#this ain’t about you Otis

[queenielacy]

The ref for the USAvsWales match is doing too much. This is not about you, sir!

[daincrediblegg]

Francis would send flaccid nudes. (And lady terror would like them)

[lunajay33]

New World🍂Part.4

Summary: Things go wrong when you’re stuck on the highway and Daryl has been acting strange ever since you told him you loved him

Part.3

•Masterlist•

Along the way we had to ditch Daryl’s truck and now he was on his motorcycle leaving you to ride with Shane, but you all had to stop due to the road block and the RV breaking down……again

It’s been a hard few days the drive was tiring, a heard of walkers came threw and now Sophia was missing and people have been out looking for her for a day now, you were now out with Rick, Shane and Carl helping look when you came across a beautiful deer

You held carls hand as you both slowly approached the deer as we got closer he stood infront of you admiring the little magical moment as Shane and Rick watched

Then a bang was heard and you felt a boiling pain in your side, you looked down seeing blood quickly seeping from your shirt

You fell to the ground as Rick and Shane ran over putting pressure on your wound, you were so confused everything was a blur, the shouts your vision, everything

“What’s hap…happening?” Dazed you faintly heard another man approach then everything went dark

Feeling shaken you opened your eyes seeing Shane frantically running with you in his arms

“Ya hold on, we ain’t losing no one else ya hear me?”

You couldn’t answer nothing felt right

~~~~~~~~~

You woke up feeling hot, hair sticking to your face you tried to sit up but screamed out in pain

“You need to stay down dear” an older man said as he gently pushed me back down

“What happened, where am I?”

“You were shot, this is Hershel he’s gonna help you” you looked to your right to see Shane sitting by the bed, maybe Shane wasn’t that bad after all

“I need Daryl, please” you pleaded scared something might happen and you won’t have him in your finally moments

“I’ll find him” a girl in the corner said as she left the room

Then everything felt cold and you passed out again

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

Daryl’s pov

We were walking out in the woods lookin for Sophia when we heard a gun shot, there was a feeling in my chest that something happened but she was with Shane and Rick she should be fine and it was only one shot

We kept walking when a girl came riding up on a horse knocking out a walker

“Who’s Daryl?” She asked in a hurry

“Who’s askin?” How the hell did she know my name

“Y/n’s been shot you need to come with me” usually I wouldn’t trust this but she knew her name and I couldn’t risk it, I threw my bow over my shoulder and hoped on the horse

We rode off for a while till we came to an old farm house, rode right up to the front door where Rick and carl came out

I jumped off and tried pushing past to go in but Rick held me back

“What the hell happened?” I asked feeling angry, scared

“We were looking at a deer and Otis was tracking it, bullet went straight threw, grazed my shoulder and went right into her side” Carl explained

“She’s been in and out” Rick said as he led me inside to a room where she was laying, pale as snow, a sheen of sweat covered her skin

I sat my crossbow down and sat on the bed next to her, Shane was in the corner and a man with white hair was coming in

“Will she be okay?” I asked pushing her hair back

“She’s getting weak, her blood pressure is dropping, I’ve gotten a few fragments out but I can’t get some she’s lost too much blood”

“Giver mine, we’re the same, take it” I said ripping my shirt up readying for it

“Are you sure?”

I nodded as he came over and put the needle in, making me think about what’s happened between us lately

She told me she loved me, I didn’t say it back, don’t know why she’d say that, why would she love me she could hold out and wait for anyone, someone good she can’t love me…..no one can, and now I can barely look at her without feeling a tightness in my stomach, my heart clenching when I see her eyes full of worry

When the walkers came through the highway I couldn’t find her, all I heard was a scream and I thought she was gone and she would’ve died thinking I was…..well I don’t know what I feel but I know I can’t lose her

Hershel went on with the surgery now that she had the blood transfusion and stitched her up now I was just waiting for her to wake up….if she’d wake up

~~~~~~~~~

Normal pov

You woke up with a thumping headache and a sharp pain in your side, all the memories of what happened came flooding back, you looked around frantic but still so weak

No one was around so you got up slowly trying to maneuver yourself without ripping open your side, you managed to to get up and walk out to the front door, the fresh air was nice

You sat on the top step of the porch and let the air blow across your face cooling you down as you felt a lump in your throat

It’s been so hard lately, one thing after another keeps happening and you didn’t know how much longer you could take it

Tears slide down your cheeks and dropped onto your thighs, someone must have changed you cause you were in baggy shorts and an oversized shirt

You just felt like a burden to everyone now, you were looking for Sophia and you got injured and maybe she was out there dead now because everyone was too focused on you

You wiped your tears as you saw Daryl come walking towards the house, seeing tents were set up near by everyone must be here now

“The hell are ya doin out of bed?” He asked with a bit of anger to his voice

You didn’t answer, too tired mentally and physically you respond

“Y/n? Are ya okay?” You just shrugged finally looking at him

“Come on ya need to stay in bed” he said picking you up slowly and bringing you back inside to the bed

“I missed ya” he said as he sat next to you

“Why?” After his treatment and avoidance of you lately felt like he didn’t care anymore, he’s never done that to you before

“Why? Cause yer my best friend, yer all I got” he said confused

“Didn’t seem like that the past few days” you groaned as a pain shot from your side

“ ‘m sorry”

It was silent between you both as the tears welled again

“I’m tired Daryl, I’m so tired”

“Told ya, ya need to sleep”

“No, I’m tired, I should have stayed at the CDC with Jacqui, I don’t wanna do this anymore” you whined

“Don’t speak like that, I ain’ lettin ya give up, ya can’t, yer my person peach, please don’t leave me” he whispered as he felt a pain in his chest, seeing you like this for the first time trying to give up made his heart hurt

“I’m sorry D, im just scared, when I got shot all I could think about was you, how if I died you wouldn’t be there, how you were ignoring me and that would be our last memory, I just don’t wanna hurt anymore Daryl, I love you too much for you to ignore me” he wiped you tears away and held your cheek

“I luv ya too, I should’ve said it ‘fore, just never had someone love me like you do” he said as he leaned forward and placed a quick gentle kiss to your lips

It was a small kiss but a big step for him, he pulled back and you were both smiling

“Ya promise to never give up” he asked pleading

“I’ll try Dixon, for you I’ll try”

—///—///—///—///—///—///—

Part.5<-

If you wanna be a part of the taglist lmk in the comments and what you’d like to see more next in the story

Taglist: @thebadbatch2022 @deansapplepie @writer-ann-artist @ghostboneswrites

[cartermagazine]

Today In History

My forever Aretha Franklin, the “Queen of Soul,” was born in Memphis, TN, on this date March 25, 1942.

Universally acclaimed as one of the world’s greatest singers in any style, Ms. Franklin brought the righteous fervor of gospel music to secular songs that were about much more than romance. Hits like “Do Right Woman — Do Right Man,” “Think,” “(You Make Me Feel Like) A Natural Woman,” “Chain of Fools,” and “Ain’t No Way” defined a modern female archetype: sensual and strong, long-suffering but ultimately indomitable, loving but not to be taken for granted.

When Aretha Franklin sang “Respect,” the Otis Redding song that became her signature, it was never just about how a woman wanted to be greeted by a spouse coming home from work. It was a demand for equality and freedom and a harbinger of feminism, carried by a voice that would accept nothing less.

The Lady Soul, the first woman inducted into the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame.

CARTER™️ Magazine

[slashv1xen]

Hiii! I have an idea in my mind, but you don't have to write about it!!!

Maybe Otis brings home a person he liked (not a victim, they met somewhere else) and waiting for them to realise about his deeds and THEN he can kill them because of their reaction. But the person is like "Oh, cool" and continues talking to Firefly family carelessly. What would be his reaction?

ooh this one got me thinking 💭

i reckon otis would be stunned, and have a blank expression on his face as he thinks why this person isn’t scared senseless. ‘what? how they ain’t scared?’

but if otis is interested in u he would probably have a smirk on his face and probably keep u around (ur also now baby’s best friend, good job!), but if not he’ll most likely kill u out of spite.

the two of u probably met in either a bar (this man is a heavy drinker), captain spaulding’s gas station or at red hot pussy liquor (he’s incredibly sleazy what can i say).

one shot 💗

“okay, enough!” you announced as you put the shot glass down, gasping from the taste of the strong vodka. the man beside you, who introduced himself as otis just laughed and took a swig straight from the bottle (much to the bartenders protests).

“what’s wrong honey, i thought you could handle this, hm?” he teased, chuckling at your annoyed expression. “not more than 8 fuckin’ shots!” you snap, in disbelief as he looked at you, amused.

“how about you come home with me, i ain’t so drunk i can’t give you a ride liar and my mama can fix ya somethin’ real nice. least i can do, especially after you paying.” you rolled your eyes at his offer, but a small smile on your face was present.

“fine, you’re right. least you can do after giving me damn alcohol poisoning,” you say, to which otis laughs and says that you’re being dramatic.

after 20 minutes otis pulls up into what looked like an abandoned farm house. if you didn’t know you’d think the house was derelict. the door happened to be unlocked, to which otis let out a grumble and pushed it open, the two of you stepping inside.

the house was a mess, to say the least. you stepped over the empty glass bottle and year-old newspapers and sat on the couch, smoothing over your pants. otis said that he’ll be back in a second, and for you to just “hang tight cutie pie”, smiling as you laughed.

after what seemed like a few minutes two women came down the stairs. a younger one, about your age, and an older one who looked about 55. they both sat down next to you and introduced themselves as “mama firefly but just call me mama” and “baby”.

you were chatting with baby about movies while mama was making you a “special meal”, when otis pulled you aside, a devilish grin on his face.

“well, i figured now would be a good time to tell you…” he started, purposely being slow to create tension (to be an asshole)

“yeah? what did you need?” you reply, looking back at baby who waved to you, and you waved back. otis sighed, that grin still present.

“i tell this to everyone that comes here, and well, none of ‘em have made it out…” you were confused, why was this man talking in riddles? “i’m gonna kill you.” he whispered in your ear, his hot breath on the nape of your neck.

“shit, really?” you ask, no emotion in your voice. he nods, waiting for your reaction. “okay, just make it quick then.” you shrugged and walked back to the couch with baby, chatting again as if nothing happened.

otis however, was dumbfounded. he just said he would kill you, and you didn’t care? how? he was so confused, he can’t even think straight. hell, he can’t even think at all. the smirk slowly returned to his face as he thought of his next move.

‘maybe we could have a future together…’

hi hi, this was so much fun to write! in my eyes, this is so in character and i can totally imagine something like this happening in one of the movies. please never shy away from requests, i’m happy to do anything (that is SFW ofc). have a good day and i hope you enjoyed!

[jokeringcutio]

Otis B. Driftwood X F. Reader - Migraine (Explicit 18+ ficlet)

Fandom: House of 1000 Corpses, Pairing: Otis B. Driftwood x Reader Warnings: Period/Blood, Menstruation Kink, Migraine!Reader, Headache!Reader. Dub-con situation, Dom/Sub tones, Explicit Smut, 18+ material, Dark Romance stuff. One-shot/Ficlet/Drabble written on a whim for my dear @myers-meadow 💜Hopefully this will elevate some of your pain.

Otis B Driftwood x Reader ->  Headache.

The ache was incredibly bad today. The blinding light was too bright for your eyes, the sounds the other family members made were too loud for your ears, and the smell of the decaying bodies was too putrid for your sensitive nose.

You rolled over in the bed, curtains drawn so you basked in a peaceful silent darkness. A breath of relief escaped your lips. Your arm was drawn over your head, elevating some of the pain you felt like a band around your forehead, pushing against your temples, stabbing into your skull on occasion.

All you wished for was a little peace and quiet. A wish that was denied when Otis came barging in under loud noises. The soles of his boots creaked, his clothes rustled, the gun in his hands clicked and he was cursing. None of it quiet.

He was followed by Baby who wasn’t nearly as loud, but neither was she quiet. She chuckled as she came to stand in the doorway and observed you. “Bloody dark,” you heard Otis say, then flinched when he switched the light on. You drew your arm even tighter over your face, covering your eyes which you squeezed shut tight.

“I need some goddamn release, babe,” you heard him say. Then felt how his hands were upon your thighs, prying them apart until he pushed himself roughly in between them. “Open up those pretty eyes, sweet cheeks.”

When you refused, you felt his grip falter. “Open up, sweetpie,” he tried again, his voice growing darker. Like a warning.

You heard a huff, then felt his grip on you tighten.

Behind Otis, you heard Baby push herself away from the doorpost. “She ain’t into it, Otis,” she said. You heard her footsteps and the sound of her voice coming nearer to you.

“What’s wrong?” Otis asked, but it was met with silence. “Is she broken or something?” Must be to Baby. “Are you broken?” Otis asked gruffly, this time obviously to you. You felt a slap against your inner thigh, then felt how he moved out from between your legs with a growl.

“Let me guess,” Baby said, her sweet voice near your ear. She must be leaning forward to you, you guessed, for you felt her hot breath roll against your ear. “You’re having a headache,” here she hesitated to give you a once-over, then licked her lips. “And you’re on your period.”

You grunted, and Baby straightened again with a smile. “See!” she said, sounding way too happy. “I am a real people person!” Yeah, when those people are toys you can play with or dead, you thought grumpily.

But the fact was, you were suffering from a really nasty migraine attack. It had crawled upon you all too slowly, and yet you hadn’t noticed it had until it was there. Your head hurt, it throbbed and was pierced all at once. Your tummy hurt, your abdomen squeezing painfully while the first of your monthly blood was violently brought forth. Really nothing was pleasant about this situation. You felt tired, angry, sick. Moody to a point you didn’t even want to meet yourself at this stage. Could they not fuck off and leave you here to die?

Well, not really die, but… You felt horrible, and not at all in the mood for anything. You just wanted to lie there until the pain inside your head faded and the ache in your belly subsided.

“Then we can fuck in the dark,” Otis said, the words instantly followed by the clicking of the light switch. Darkness surrounded you once more. You heard Baby click her tongue, probably shaking her head.

“Yeah, you do whatever,” you heard her say. “I’m off to my own room. Come join me if you want some daylight fun.” Then she was gone.

The bed dipped again as Otis came to sit over you, a knee pressed at either side. He dipped his head forth. Warm hands grabbed your wrists, pulling them away from your face until your arms were trapped above your head. You felt how his long hair tickled your skin before his warm lips were placed over yours, capturing them in a kiss.

So he was truly doing this? You gasped once the kiss broke and opened your eyes to stare up at him in the darkness the room provided. The vague outline of his shape was visible, like an angry grey silhouette that moved in the dark. Only, his shape was filled with colorful blocks, little colored lights that your head filled in despite the darkness. A method of torture, you were sure. A reason you hated to have headaches like these. Even with the lights out, your eyes still managed to hurt, and in effect, so did your head.

“You’d better not be fucking with me,” the angry growl came from above you, where Otis sat up to take off his top. You could hear him unzip his pants before his hands sought yours to unzip them as well. He started to tug them down your hips. “If this headache stuff is just bullshit,” he warned you.

“It’s real,” you croaked, then flinched as you tried to look at him. “I wouldn’t fake-“ you flinched again, then tried to wiggle when you noticed he was trying to take your underpants down. The attempt was miserable. Your hips hardly moved. Your head spun too wildly to coordinate your body.

Then you felt how his hand came to rest between your thighs, pushing them apart. A slap of his palm against your bare cunt alerted you that he had succeeded in taking your pants off. A growl escaped your lips as you arched your back again. A finger slid roughly into your slit, pressing deep until you felt his knuckle. His nail scraped past your sensitive walls that instantly fluttered around the digit, earning you a rough laugh.  “Not want this, eh?” you heard Otis say. “Liar.”

You gasped again, arching your back. A wet squelch was heard when he retracted his finger till only the tip was inside, then he pushed in again.

“I said no,” you gasped, breathlessly. “I’m not feeling well. I’m bleeding.”

“So?”

That caught you speechless. Because indeed. So? So what? Why wasn’t he bothered by it?

And then you reminded yourself who you were dealing with here. If anyone wouldn’t be repulsed by blood, it would be this artistic murderer. While you were still in a daze, he kneeled between your legs. A sinful sound came from your cunt when his lips engulfed your sensitive bud. You felt his lips upon you, joining his finger while he pumped, eagerly suckling your clit and licking your cunt. as if he were hungry for your blood. You gasped, this time in pleasure, then you moved your arms down until your hands came to rest on the top of his head. Your fingers curled in the strands there before tightening and pulling him closer, effectively forcing him to slobber and suck and nip at your aching cunt until you had your fill.

He lapped at you eagerly, desperate for the nectar that spilled from your core. Slick mingled with blood. Your womb clamped painfully inside of you, but the pleasure was making the sensation more and more bearable until you’d forgotten your period pain completely.

You were moaning, guiding Otis up and down and closer. His nose against your pussy lips while his tongue dove in deep. His finger was joined by another. The two thick digits curled and twisted inside of you. And then, when he considered you ready enough for him, he jerked from your grip and sat up between you.

He propped your legs up and over his shoulders and nearly folded you in half as he bent over you. The tip of his hard cock, throbbing and dripping pre-cum, pressed against your opening, then slid in without little resistance. Both of you cried out in tandem while you felt him bottom out. A growl escaped Otis, and you saw the white glint of his gritted teeth in the dark.

Otis’s hands were upon your arms, gripping you while he set a steady pace. Slick sounds filled the room while you shortly worried about staining the bed. A stupid notion, you thought. The bed had been stained by the blood of so many others before you.

Otis was a murderer after all. An Artist. A lover of gore.

No wonder he took you with such fervor while your blood spread across his shaft. Your pussy was sensitive, more than you remembered it to have ever been before. It pulsed around his shaft, milking him, begging for each and everything he could give.

You heard how it affected him. How his low grunts and husky curses became more passionate and more desperate with each thrust and with each pull of your cunt. All too soon, he had you arching your back in pleasure while an orgasm washed over you. Your nipples peeked against your shirt, your cunt clenched down tight. And still he kept thrusting.

“Fuck,” he groaned. It took him more effort to enter you when you clamped down on him like a vice. He had to forcibly pull back his cock and slam it in again, time after time, until the head of his cock hit a pleasurable spot deep inside and your walls started to flutter again.

Your toes curled with delight. He fucked you through your first orgasm, and onto the next. You bit your lip to keep from crying out, but he was thrusting mercilessly, pounding you deep and hard, battering that sweet spot deep inside of your cunt until you saw stars again. This time not from the migraine. These were the stars of horny pleasure. Stars of eroticism. Of sheer luck.

Of him giving you his essence.

Because you felt it. Felt how his hips stuttered and how his warm cum shot deep inside. You heard his hoarse yell, the obscenities he uttered while his hands sought your face and cupped your cheeks.

Then you felt how his lips captured yours in a kiss. His hips pressed tight against yours, his softening cockhead nudging your cervix with the last spasms of his orgasm. Then he slid out.

“Fuck, I think I’ve found a new favorite pastime,” Otis said while he sat up and ran a hand through his hair. You squinted your eyes when he clicked on the bedside lamp, and quickly hid your face behind your arms again. Okay, so the migraine hadn’t gone away. But the pain in your lower region had been replaced by the soft tingling of your afterglow. That was an improvement.

You watched through half-lidded eyes how Otis smirked down at you. He was still undressed, pants tucked to his ankles while yours were discarded halfway across the room. Then he bent over and dipped a finger into a pool of juices that stained the sheets. You watched, mesmerized, as he lifted his finger. He held it in front of his eyes to study it. The bright red blood glinted in the light of the lamp.

Then his eyes turned to you, a similar glint within them, while a smile spread on his lips. “Oh, we’re definitely gonna do this again, pumpkin.” You parted your lips to protest, but he saw the attempt and quickly interfered. “Na-ah,” he tusked you patronizingly so. “Need I remind you? You’re mine.”

And then he was upon you again. His lips ravishing yours in a fiery kiss. Besotted with twisted love and hungry for more of your blood.

He was inside of you before you could protest. And you knew, your life would never be the same again.

[workingforthewidow]

Woah look at me actually posting 2 things within the same month lol- this is a part 2 to the Otis fic i posted a few days ago. You don’t HAVE to read it to understand this but it does help! I have honestly fallen in love with Otis and his Princess so I might start doing small one-shots in this universe so if you have any ideas or request let me know!

Warnings: as stated reader is in deep for Otis like so much Stockholm syndrome going on. Slight smut. Reference to non-con. This is Otis we are talking about so he can be a warning himself. But also OOC Otis like he’s super sweet but still in an Otis way. Blood. Lots of blood. Killing people. Knives. If there’s any major i missed please let me know! But yeah- don’t like it don’t read it.

She/her pronouns for reader. I tried to keep descriptions to a minimum, did mention pulling readers hair a lot but I mean i pull my husbands hair a lot and he has short hair so yeah.

18+

Word count 3,698. Link to part 1

She woke up to hear steady soft snores in her ear and the feeling of shallow sleepy breaths under her. A long pale arm wrapped around her waist held her securely to him. He stayed. He really stayed this time like he promised. Usually he was gone by the time she woke up. Maybe it was still night and she had just woken too early. But she could see the rays of light streaming in from the window. It was morning for sure. She lifted her head as much as she could and luckily she could see the clock on the wall. One of his few gifts to her. He wouldn’t give her a calendar but he at least got her the clock so she could have some time awareness. The hands of the clock read 1:49. They had gotten home at 1:30am. And by the time all was said and done she imagine she fell asleep no later than 2:30am. They had slept for 11 hours. He never slept that much. She was about to try to wake him when his grip tightened on her waist pulling her against him. He brushed his nose against her hair and kissed her forehead.

“Stop fucking moving and go back to sleep Princess.” He mumbled against her skin.

She relaxed against him and hummed contently. “But it’s almost 2 in the afternoon. We’ve been sleeping all day.”

“And if I say go back to sleep you fucking go back to sleep. Sleep for the next week if I say so.” He grunted out at her.

She nodded her head against his chest and closed her eyes again. What game was this? For sure a new one, they had never played a game like this before. Maybe it was the calm before the storm and next time she woke up he’d have her hanging from meat hooks on the ceiling or thrown back in the basement.

She was never able to fall back asleep. She just stayed very still against him other than occasionally tracing her fingers up and down his chest lazily like she was in a dream. Finally once the sun was setting did he stir awake. She was mid way up his chest near his heart when his hand clutched hers. If she wasn’t so use to him it would have hurt but she knew his grip was stronger than an alligators bite.

“Mornin’ Princess.” His still half asleep voice was low and rough. She laughed a little and shook her head.

“Ain’t mornin’ anymore. Almost dinner time.”

As if on cue Baby’s voice could be heard from the bottom of the stairs, “Otis! I haven’t seen my little best friend in two whole days. It’s about time you let her down here to see me and Mama.”

Otis groaned and rubbed his face before flinging her off him onto the floor. He stood up and looked down at where she had stayed on the floor like his good little girl. “Put some clothes on.” He threw her a pile of fabric at her. She separated it to reveal her shorts and one of his ‘burn this flag’ tank tops. Another change to the game. He never let her wear his clothes outside of the flannel she got to wear during the winter. Even then it was just the one and she had to keep track of it or else it was taken and hidden from her in a wicked game of hide and seek. She slid the clothes on without questioning him. “Perfect.” He grabs her face and kisses her harshly. But not as harshly as during a game. It wasn’t a true romantic kiss like the one from the night before but it wasn’t a one sided “I own you and can put my mouth anywhere I please” kiss either. “Come on Sweetheart.” He took her hand and led her down the stairs to the table.

The family were already seated and she noticed four guest sitting on the far end of the table. Two men and two women. One of the men looked extremely excited to be there while the other man and the women looked like they’d rather be anywhere else.

Mama immediately got up at the sight of them and floated towards them. She was so elegant and graceful.

“Oh my sweet Otis and little Darling. You joined us. How special is this? Come sit, sit. We have guest and it’s Halloween. I am blessed today.” She cooed before returning to her seat. “Masks on everyone.” She announced placing her own masks on her face. The others followed suit with the expect of one of the women and Otis and his girl.

“Put the damn mask on or she won’t let us have dessert!” Grandpa huffed from across the table.

The women sneered towards Otis and her, “They don’t have masks. Why do I have to do it?” Oh she was an entitled thing. Otis hated that kind of girl, his princess was never like that not even when he first got her.

“Playin’ by different rules sugar.” Otis spat out at her with venom laced words. She looked at him shocked before placing the mask on her face. The group ate in silence for a few minutes before the man who was acting like he was at DisneyLand spoke up.

“So uh any of you heard of Doctor Satan?” Everyone’s eyes shot up and glared holes into his head. She looked around at Mama and then to Otis who cleared his throat. He went on to spin the tale of Doctor Satan as if it were just that, a story. But she knew better. She knew the truth. Before anything else could be said Baby rang the gong. Time for her show.

Everyone filed into the show room and watched as Baby did her performance. She was a natural talent. She could even be in the picture shows. Baby was dancing close to one of the men and the woman next to him seemed to be jealous. She thought that’s probably what she would like that when Baby was all over Otis if she didn’t know the truth about their relationship. Sure they had done things in the past but once Otis brought her home and finally into his room and Baby claimed her as her “little best friend” all sexual acts between them stopped.

“A girl doesn’t two-time on her little best friend, Otis. She’d get all upset and cry. Best friends don’t make each other cry.” She had told him once he tried to get handsy with her. He didn’t care if the stupid girl got upset. He just wanted a good fuck and the girl locked in his room had yet to truly prove herself to him. Sure she could spread her legs and open her mouth but she wasn’t as exciting as Baby. Until one day out of the blue she was. She was doing everything just how Baby did it. Turns out the poor girl had begged Baby to tell her what to do to keep his attention on her. And boy was she a quick learner.

Lost in her head she didn’t realize all the movement going on around until screams hit her ears and she was picked up, thrown over Otis’s shoulder. He threw her into one of the empty rooms that only held a bed and a dresser. He pushed her onto the bed and held his knife to her throat.

“You move out of this room. You die. You scream or make a noise. You die. You do anything that’s not staying in this room and shutting your fucking mouth. You. Die.” He pulled her by her hair to lock eyes with her. His eyes were even more blood thirsty than usual. “Understand me, Princess?”

Her lip quivered, what was happening? She had never seen guest end like this. Yes they killed and took their cars and money but this felt different. He pulled her hair harder and pushed the knife deeper into her throat waiting her response.

“Yes, I’ll be good. Stay here and be quiet.” Her wide eyes glistened with tears threatening to fall from the pressure on her head from her pulled hair. He nodded and let her hair go, running his fingers through it for a moment.

“Good girl. If I haven’t come to get you by morning you can come find me okay?” She nodded again quickly. He grabbed her chin and pulled her into a kiss. “I love you Princess.”

He said it again! Twice in one day! She happily kissed him back and smiled wide at him, “I love you, too.” He brushed her hair out once more before leaving the room making sure the door locked behind them.

She didn’t even realized she had fallen asleep until she woke with a jump. Had it really been that long? After Otis had left she paced the room before she decide to explore the dresser a bit. In the top drawer was an old worn copy of some book she’d never heard of but from the picture on the cover it looked to be some cliché romance. She sat on the bed resting her back against the wall and started reading, having nothing better to do. She must have fallen asleep mid-read. She looked out the window. Sunshine. It was morning and Otis hadn’t come back for her. What if something happened? Was he hurt? Did those guest hurt him or Baby or Mama? She was even worried for Hugo. She leapt to her feet and bounded towards the door. Just as she was about to fiddle with the lock she heard the click of a key and the turn of the doorknob. She jumped back so the door wouldn’t hit her when it swung open.

On the other side of the door stood her Otis. Her sweet, loving, blood covered, Otis.

“Sorry I’m late Princess had to clean up someone else’s mess. But I got a surprise for you.” He smirked and took her hand. He led her back to the room they shared and covered her eyes to keep her surprise from her. Was this a real surprise? Like a present? “It ain’t much but we gotta start ya off with something easy, okay?” He removed his hands from her eyes and she blinked at the sudden light from the darkness. Once her eyes adjusted she saw the surprise. Tied to chairs and knocked out sat two of the guest. The man in glasses that Baby had sang to and the women she assumed was his girlfriend or wife.

Otis pulled her against his chest and kissed the top of her head. “I have an idea for these two fuck ups and I need my pretty little Princess to help me. Gonna teach ya to be a real artist not just my muse.” He handed her one of his knives and took one in his own hand. “You get the girl shes more your size. Don’t fuck it up Princess.” He moved over to the man and bent down by his ankles, “All it takes is a clean up to the ankles.” He swiftly sliced the knife threw the mans skin causing him to pop his eyes open with a scream. His screaming then woke the woman. “Your turn Princess.”

She twisted the handle in her hands and looked at him nervously. “Come on Princess, it ain’t hard.” Somehow she only heard his voice. She knew the people were screaming and crying but she was focused on him. Tired of waiting he grabbed her hand and pulled her to the floor and held her smaller hand in his. “Like this.” With a flick their wrist the knife cut one of the woman’s ankles. “You do the next one.”

She took a breath and moved closer to the other unharmed ankle. Her eyes flickered to his for a moment before exhaling and cutting through the skin. She hit a vein just right and blood splattered on her face and chest. She stood up as Otis whistled at her.

“Damn didn’t think you could get any prettier but I was wrong. This is how you’re meant to look Princess.” He pulled her close and licked some of the blood off her face. “Let’s give the happy couple some alone time. Should be done by the time we come back.” He smirked and jammed his knife into the woman’s thigh. He looked at her than to the man and back to her. She got the message. She walked to the man and stood above him.

“Wait, wait, wait! I know you. You’re that girl who went missing last year. The millionaire’s stepdaughter. Just let us go and we can take you home to your family and away from these psychos.”

Otis growled and almost pounced on the man but she raised her hand to stop him. “This is my home. This is my family. This is all I need. You don’t fucking know me. You know my face and you know my name but you don’t know me. Only my family knows me. Only Otis knows me.” She screamed in his face so close it fogged his glasses before stabbing him the thigh twisting the blade a few times for extra hurt.

The man and the woman continued screaming and begging for their lives as Otis took her away. He took her to the bathroom and ran the shower. Peeling off her blood soaked clothes slowly before removing his own. He pulled her under the water and watched as it mixed with the blood on her face and ran down the drain. Wordlessly he titled her head back and let the water run through her hair.

All of this was so new. Never had they done this before. And if they had she was sure it would have just been about sex. But he was being gentle and soothing. She could his erection plan as day but decided if he wasn’t making this about sex she shouldn’t either. She hummed as he brushed through her wet hair getting all the blood out. Normally he would be smearing all over her. She always let him do it. She always let him do whatever made him happy. But as soon as he was done with her she would run to the shower as fast as she could to clean herself. But now he was cleaning it off her. Gentle rubbing his hands down her body in a non-sexual way. Once he was satisfied with how clean she was he moved their places and let the water trail over himself. All of this done in silence. Only the water running and their breathing could be heard. Finally he cut he water and stepped out leaving her standing in the shower.

“Feel better Princess?” He asked wrapping her in a towel that was honestly probably dirtier than them when they entered the shower.

“Yes, thank you.” She smiled at him wide eyed.

“Have another surprise for you while we wait for those fucks to finish up.” He walked her back to their room, “Get your clothes on. Whatever you want.” He said as he went to inspect the people in to the corner who’s yelling had turned to whimpers.

She dug through her clothes finally able to pick her own outfit. She quickly put on a soft lavender purple matching bra and panties then looked over to him.

“All your clothes. We’re going back down stairs.” Oh she really got to pick her own outfit. This never happened. She went back to drawers and dug again finding her blue jean shorts and a black shirt. She slipped them on and looked to him again. “That’s better Princess. Now down the stairs.” He gestured to the door and followed her down the staircase. “This way.” He pulled her outside and towards one of the sheds where they kept the extra clothes and other items from guest who never left.

He opened the door and pushed her inside. He lit a match and fired up a lamp hanging from the ceiling. She stood still as he rooted around looking for something. She thought about asking him if she could help him find whatever it was he was looking for but as soon as she opened her mouth to speak he turned to her box in hand. “Come here pretty girl.” He called her closer and held out the box to her. “A pretty princess needs a pretty jewel. Take whichever one you want.”

She looked inside the box and gasped. Inside were tens if not hundreds of shining rings. Some silver, some gold, some with diamonds, others with colored gems, and some that were just metal. She dug around looking for any she might like and took a few in hand. She went to try and size it to her right hand finger but he stopped her.

“Other hand Princess.”

She cocked her head to the side in confusion, “But that hands for a wedding band.”

“Just do it don’t fucking argue with me.” Hell for once in his damn life he was trying to be genuine and she had to run her mouth.

She nodded and moved to her other hand. She tried a few too small. A few too big. And a few she just didn’t like how they sat on her finger. Otis was starting to get impatient with her once again, always taking forever. He looked around in the box and found he liked and grabbed her hand sliding the band over her finger. She looked at her hand then to him and back at her hand again. The gem was a deep ruby red similar to his ever beloved blood and the band was the same silver as his knives. It was perfect. Just like her Otis was perfect.

“It’s perfect.” She whispered as if it would break if spoke too loud. “But why?”

“What can’t do a fucking nice thing for you?”

“No. No. Thank you. I just don’t understand what’s happening.”

“I’ve told you a hundred times. You are mine forever.” Why couldn’t she get that through her thick skull?

She fiddled with the ring on her finger, “I know. And I’m happy to be yours forever. But, but this feels like you wanna marry me or something. And I…”

“Well we ain’t having no big ole party and it ain’t gonna be legal. But married and forever are the same things,” he interrupted her.

She took a deep breath, she imagined he wouldn’t like what she was about to say and needed to muster up all her courage. “I know I get that. But married also means one and only forever. You are my one and only but am I yours? Married means no other girls.”

Otis put the box holding the rings down and grabbed her face in both hands making her look up at him.

“Princess, ain’t had anyone in my bed except you since I brought you in it. Knew you was something special. A man’s gotta settle down sometime. Get him a sexy little housewife. Hell maybe even knock you up have little brats running around. Mama and Baby would love that.” Sincere. He was being sincere and true and kind and all the things she didn’t even think Otis Driftwood knew what the definitions were.

Tears flowed down her cheeks flooding over his hands. “Really? You want a family? With me?”

“Fuck yeah I do Princess. Any woman that can slice an ankle that clean and not flinch when the blood hits her face is a woman I wanna keep.” He kissed her and rested his forehead against her, “Don’t mean I’m gonna be nicer. I will still cut your throat if you leave or do anything stupid. Still gonna pull you by your hair. And fuck you how I like whenever I like.” He grabbed her hair and yanked her to slide before sinking his teeth into her neck. There was the Otis she knew and, in a sick twisted way, loved. He pulled back and grinned at her with her blood running down his chin.

“Let’s go back and finish our art piece.” He led her back up the stairs and found their models ready to pose.

After working on the art piece for hours she was again covered in blood and guts and pieces of someone else’s flesh were stuck to her. Otis gave the piece a once over and turned to her, equally as messy as she was.

“I don’t think I’ve seen anything more perfect. Besides you Princess.” He smirked at her and winked.

She didn’t know what game this was but she hoped they played it forever. All the sweet words he had been whispering in her ear, as he guided her hands showing her how to work on the art piece and use his many tools, were sounding more and more like a dream come true. He wanted to marry her, well he had ‘married’ her, and wanted a family with her. That was something she always dreamed of- being a mother and having a family. Even if her family was messed up and sick in the head. She was excited about the future.

“Let’s get you clean up and off to bed, Princess.” He kissed her forehead and took her to the shower to clean again. She truly felt like she was in a dream. Once they were clean he took her to bed and let her curl up on him like he did the day before.

“We‘ll take them to Spaulding tomorrow. I’ll bring you with me.” He promised her.

“Thank you. For everything you have done for me. I don’t think I’ve ever been this happy in my whole life.” She looked up and pressed a kiss to his jaw.

“Me either, Princess. Me either.” He held her face and kissed her forehead. “Now sleep and don’t fucking wake up until the sun is shining.”

[harrisonarchive]

George Harrison, backstage in Philadelphia, PA, on August 16, 1966; photo by Bob Bonis.

“[George showed us] his music room, which has one wall covered with the famous Harrison guitars, his collection of Indian instruments and a small jukebox standing just by the door. I looked at the titles on the jukebox and there were very few Beatle songs amongst them. The Beach Boys, Mamas and Papas, Lovin’ Spoonful, the Stones were all well represented.” - The Beatles Monthly, January 1967

“George Harrison’s Fab Forty… George — like all the Beatles, incidentally — has his own juke box at his Esher home. It’s in his ‘den.’ Along with tape recorder, radio and record player. […] But back to the juke box. It’s a KB. Maybe you saw it in the film ‘Help’? Says George: ‘It’s so much easier to have all my favorite records on the juke box at once. It saves me going through piles of records to find the ones I want. Then when I get sick of them, I just throw them out and put some new ones in.” - Tony Hall, Record Mirror, January 1, 1966

George’s Top Ten… 1 “Harlem Shuffle” — Bob and Earl 2 “Good Things Come To Those Who Wait” — Chuck Jackson 3 “Be My Lady”/“Red Beans and Rice” — Booker T and the MGs 4 “Please Crawl Out Your Window” — Bob Dylan 5 “Baby, You’re My Everything” — Little Jerry Williams 6 “Back Street” — Edwin Starr 7 “Work, Work, Work” — Lee Dorsey 8 “The Little Girl I Once Knew” — The Beach Boys 9 “My Girl Has Gone” — The Miracles 10 “I Don’t Know What You’ve Got /But It’s Got Me)” — Little Richard (“[P]arts one and two — the second is George’s favorite.”)

The rest… 11 “I Can’t Turn You Loose” — Otis Redding 12 “My Girl” — Otis Redding 13 “I Believe I’ll Love On” — Jackie Wilson 14 “Plum Nellie” — Booker T and the MGs 15 “Everything Is Gonna Be Alright” — Willie Mitchell 16 “A Sweet Woman Like You” — Joe Tex 17 “Something About You” — The Four Tops 18 “I Got You” — James Brown 19 “Ain’t That Peculiar” — Marvin Gaye 20 “Turn, Turn, Turn” — The Byrds 21 “See Saw” — Don Covay 22 “I’m Comin’ Through” — Sounds Incorporated 23 “Don’t Fight It” — Wilson Pickett 24 “Bootleg” — Booker T and the MGs 25 “I Ain’t Gonna Eat Out My Heart Anymore” — The Young Rascals 26 “Respect” — Otis Redding 27 “Try Me”/“Papa’s Got A Brand New Bag” — James Brown (“instrumentals”) 28 “I’ve Been Loving You Too Long” — Otis Redding 29 “All Or Nothing” — Patty Labelle and her Belles 30 “Pretty Little Baby” — Marvin Gaye 31 “Oowee Baby, I Love You” — Fred Hughes 32 “The Tracks of My Tears” — The Miracles 33 “Yum Yum” — Joe Tex 34 “Agent 00 Soul” — Edwin Starr 35 “Money” — Barrett Strong 36 “Some Other Guy” — Ritchie Barrett (“George’s ‘Revived 45’ list — he’s dug these since they first came out.”) 37 “It Wasn’t Me” — Chuck Berry 38 “Mohair Sam” — Charlie Rich 39 “Let Him Run Wild” — The Beach Boys 40 “Do You Believe In Magic” — The Lovin’ Spoonful

“George really knows his records. It’s always a pleasure to talk to him about them.” - Tony Hall, Record Mirror, January 1, 1966 (x)

George's "Fab Forty" playlist: on YouTube, and on Spotify.

[kingdaddydaichi]

slow dancing barefoot in the kitchen with katsuki

⋆ pairing: k. bakugou x reader

⋆ wc: 600±

⋆ cool, cool. but adult!pro hero!katsuki isn't all bark and no vulnerability. sometimes i think we don't give him enough credit or look far enough ahead to a time and place where his devotion to personal growth extends beyond his achievements or hero ranking. what if, with time and maturity, adult!pro hero!katsuki shows his goofy side and laughs with you while watching try not to laugh cat videos on youtube? to be with you, he's willing to lose...

⋆ soundtrack: these arms of mine || otis redding

🎶

Katsuki stood over the freshly cut veggies simmering in the wok as you stirred the sugar into the rice vinegar for the sushi rice.

You hummed along with your favorite playlist as it droned in the background.

In his flow state, your otherwise hot-headed husband spoke calmly. “Don’t forget the splash of sake.” Cooking was his therapy, his creative outlet.

“Shit, thanks for reminding me baby,” you said, grabbing one of the bottles of rice wine from the fridge. But not just any of them. The right one for sushi vinegar - the ginjo. Katsuki was very particular about which types of sake he used in various dishes and recipes. “Still not used to making it this way.”

“Put a drizzle in the skillet too while you’re at it?”

You mostly covered the mouth of the bottle with your thumb and leaned over his arm slightly to shake several drops into the wok. It bubbled and hissed, the sweet aroma mixing with the hot sesame oil and crisp vegetables before steaming off the searing Teflon. Just by breathing it in you could taste the toe-curling umami on the back of your tongue.

“Fuckin perfect, baby. Damn, that’s hot,” Katsuki said, flipping the contents up and over themselves once, twice before setting it back down on the circle of yellow flames on the gas stovetop.

“Well don’t touch it, genius." You winked at him from the corner of your smiling eye.

He turned the heat down and leaned in close, his chin resting on your shoulder, his breath tickling your cheek. “I ain’t talkin bout the food.”

You chuckled, raising your shoulder towards your ear in a weak attempt to fend off his advances. As the contents in the wok simmered, your husband hugged you from behind, watching as you broke off 2”x2” squares of konbu to marinate in the sushi vinegar - just like he taught you. 

After a brief pause between songs, Otis Redding’s voice suddenly saturated the room. Katsuki’s arms squeezed tighter around you as he began to sway. You leaned back against him as you closed your eyes, opening them only when he twirled you around to face him.

You giggled quietly and took his proffered hand, gracefully following him to the middle of the kitchen floor. You slid your right hand into his left as he placed his other on your lower back and fastened you to him.

Without a word, your bodies swayed as you followed his lead. Cheek pressing against his hard, thrumming chest; your bare feet slotted between each other on the cool, bamboo floor.

“I’ve missed you, babe,” he murmured, pressing his lips against the top of your head.

“You work too much, Katsuki…” you sighed, your eyes closed, focusing instead on his scent and his voice. “...'n i miss you too.”

With his cheek pressed against your hair, he grumbled, “I know.”

Following his steps without missing a slow-dancing beat, you looked up at him. With your chin resting on his chest you said, “M’so happy we got to make dinner together tonight.”

“Me too, babe,” he said, looking down at you with his crimson eyes full of soft admiration. Lowering his head and voice to your ear, he said, “Maybe that’s not all we can make together tonight, hm?”

Hiding your burning face from his intensity you pressed your cheek against his chest again, thinking I owe you, Otis.

k. bakugou m.list

[bellaireland1981]

1k Celebration! Summer Pool Party Playlist

Details: 

I just hit 1000 followers!!! THANK YOU!!!! This is truly mind blowing and humbling and I am eternally grateful to all of you who follow, read my stories, interact and just like to geek out over these Top Gun hotties with me! I cannot even thank you enough for all of your support and encouragement. I have met so many incredible people on Tumblr and in this fandom. I know we recently hit some dark days but even in the not so great times, it’s important to remember that there are still awesome people here and it’s not all dark days. SO…. to celebrate this milestone and to hopefully bring back some fun, happy, bright, and sunny days…. I am hosting a Summer Pool Party Writing Challenge! Let’s kick off summer with our favorite aviators! 

Rules:

You can sign up for as many Songs as you’d like! 

Message me with your song choice and who you’re writing for!- I will update the list so everyone knows what’s still available! 

18+ Only! Minors DNI

You can submit for a series, one shots, mood boards, drabbles, etc… The point is to HAVE FUN!

Must be appropriately labeled (Smut, Angst, warnings, Fluff….etc)

HAS to include SONG in some shape or form (i.e. in the title, included in the story, lyrics in the story, etc.) 

General:

Your creations are due by July 31, 2024! Tag me @bellaireland1981 and #1kPoolPartyPlaylist  in your work so that I add your link to the Challenge Page! 

Playlist: (Note: If you have another summer/pool party themed song in mind that isn’t on the list– message me! We can add it)

Walking on Sunshine- Katrina & The Waves

Margaritaville- Jimmy Buffet

Dance the Night- Dua Lipa

I Don’t Want This Night to End- Luke Bryan

Summer- Calvin Harris

Party in the USA- Miley Cyrus

I Wanna Dance With Somebody- Whitney Houston

One Margarita- Luke Bryan

Southbound- Carrie Underwood

I Ain’t Worried- OneRepublic

The Sound of Sunshine Going Down- Michael Frani and Spearhead

Made You Look- Meghan Trainer

Summer Days- Martin Garrix - ( @bellaireland1981 - Bradley x Reader)

Shut up and Dance- Walk the Moon

Summer Love- Justin Timberlake

I Was Made for Loving You- Oliver Heldens

Can’t Stop This Feeling- Justin Timberlake

Let’s Get Loud- Jennifer Lopez

Addicted to You- Shakira

1999- Prince

House Party- Sam Hunt

Hot Stuff- Donna Summer

Good Vibrations- Beach Boys

Love Shack- B52’s

Cake by the Ocean- DNCE

Sweet Home Alabama- Lynyrd Skynyrd

Dancing Queen- ABBA

Heat Waves- Glass Animals

Toes- Zac Brown Band

Summer Girls- LFO

Under the Boardwalk- The Drifters

California Gurls- Katy Perry - ( @startrekfangirl2233 Phoenix x Reader)

Kokomo- The Beach Boys

Watermelon Sugar- Harry Styles

Cruel Summer- Taylor Swift

Hot Fun in the Summertime- Sly and the Family Stone

Summertime Blues- Alan Jackson

(Sittin’ on) The Dock of the Bay- Otis Redding

Summer in the City- The Lovin’ Spoonful

Hot in Here- Nelly

When the Sun Goes Down- Kenny Chesney and Uncle Cracker

I Don't Know About You- Chris Lane

Let's Have a Pool Party!!!!!!

[hopefulatrocity]

From The Ashes-Chapter 7

Note:  Note: First off, thank you for your likes and comments. This is a lot later post than I intended it to be. I’m working really hard on Chapter 9 and it’s taking me longer than I thought. That chapter is when Pheonyx and Daryl officially start the search for Sophia.  So, they’re alone and there isn’t a lot of show dialogue for me to bounce off of. I had a couple days of writer's block and I’ve been working slowly on it. I keep rearranging how I want their conversation to go and also rewatching the season over and over to make sure I’m characterizing Daryl correctly. I want it to be believable. Long story short, I don’t want to post chapter 8 until I have 9 done, so it might be a bit until I’ve posted it. I think once I get over this hump, since it’s the first one on one scene with Daryl and Pheonyx(with Kismet as his wingman) that I’ll be able to write faster. Hopefully. Also sorry for how short this is. The last chapter and this one was originally one chapter but I want to keep my chapters around the same length(3-4k) and it ended up over 6k. So I split it up. 

Chapter TW/CW: internal homophobia, transphobia, descriptions of past abuse, denial of sexuality?(Not sure how to describe it), self-deprecating thoughts, parental death.

Dividers by: @firefly-graphics and @omiyours

Banner by: @liminal-creations​ 

Next

Masterlist

DARYL'S POV

As Daryl was making his way away from the service, fully intending to head straight into the woods to continue the search for Sophia, Rick caught up to his long strides and cut him off. The cop stood in front of him and Daryl narrowed his eyes at the man. 

“Before you head out, I want to get the group together to make a plan for the search.”, Rick said. 

“Ain’t got time for that, man. Shoulda been out at first light lookin’ for the girl.”, Daryl snapped, annoyed at being held up. 

Rick placed his hands on his hips, one hand hovering on the grip of his Colt Python. “Just listen, please. Hershel’s stepson has offered his help for the search. And I’d like you to partner up with him.” Daryl was about to cut in, but Rick continued,  “He’s an experienced tracker and hunter, and he knows these woods better than any of us do. He says he’s been working with his dog on scent tracking, too. With both of you, and the dog, looking for Sophia, I think we have a better chance of finding her.” 

Daryl shook his head, irritated. He worked better alone. His focus needed to be on finding the girl and he couldn’t do that with someone else following him around. Having the group with him yesterday was bad enough. The woods were his domain, his comfort zone. Some stranger on his coattails, mucking up the trails, and making noise while he was trying to concentrate, wasn’t something he wanted to deal with. Not when a little girl’s life was on the line. 

As if reading his mind, Rick said, “Just talk to him. That’s all I ask. If you don’t want to work with him after that, then fine.” 

Daryl wanted to tell him off, or to just walk away. Before he could, Rick was turning and waving a hand to call over Pheonyx, who had been walking back towards the house from Otis’s tribute. Daryl noticed a slight hesitation and stiffening of the man’s body as he looked between Rick and himself. But it was gone in a blink of an eye. The hound dog followed behind Pheonyx and they both stopped in front of the two men. 

Rick smiled at the younger man. Daryl felt his ears warm as Pheonyx lifted the corners of his mouth in return. The heat spread to his face as the other man’s green eyes met his own. The light shade of green reminded him of the pair of fern plants his momma planted in front of their trailer when he was 7 years old. The old mobile home had been extremely run down. Paint was peeling off the walls and several windows had cracks or were missing from his Pa’s violent outbursts. The small grass patch in front of the trailer was often overgrown and full of weeds. But his momma wanted to fix the place up. Unfortunately they didn’t have a lot of money for paint, or pretty flowers to plant. They didn’t have a lot of money for anything really. Momma worked as a waitress at the local diner but most of the money she made, his Pa stole to use for drugs or alcohol. He remembered the day she brought home those little ferns though. His Pa had been off on a bender for a week, like usual. She carried the tiny plants in with a huge smile on her face. They'd been on clearance at the local hardware store because some of the leaves were dried out but his momma was convinced it just needed a little love and care. That afternoon, Daryl and Merle helped her clean up the yard. Merle borrowed the neighbor’s push mower to mow the small yard and Daryl helped Momma weed the area around the front door. He and Merle dug the small holes on either side of the door for the plants, stopping to throw dirt at each other occasionally. When the ferns were planted, the trio stood, Momma’s arms wrapped around both boys’ shoulders, and looked at the trailer. It was still shitty. The paint was still falling off and there was still cardboard on the windows. But the little plants with dried leaves made it look like home. Over the next couple of years, as his mother’s depression and alcohol problems grew, so did the plants. They grew so big that his Pa forced him to cut part of them down because he kept tripping on the long leaves when he would stumble home at night. Despite that, the plants thrived and every time Daryl saw them, he was reminded of that day with Merle and momma. The look of joy on her face. It was one of the few happy memories he had with her. And it was all destroyed the day the trailer caught fire.

The ferns burned away. Right along with his momma. 

Daryl felt his heart ache at the reminder of his mother. But the green of Pheonyx’s eyes still reminded him of that happy day and he was almost entranced. He barely even registered Rick standing next to him. 

“Pheonyx, this is Daryl Dixon. He’s the tracker I mentioned yesterday. He’s been headin’ up the search for Sophia. Daryl, this is Hershel’s stepson. Both Maggie and Hershel say he is an expert on the property and woods surrounding it. He’s offered his services-”, a loud bark from the mutt sitting at Pheonyx’s side had Rick pausing for a moment. “And his dog, to help find Sophia. I’d appreciate it if you two would work together to head up the search for her.”

The arms he had crossed over his chest tensed. As entranced as he was by the man across from him, he couldn’t work with him. In all honesty, he was slightly scared of the emotions he was feeling. They were unraveling the identity that he had clung to for so long. He hadn’t even spoken to Pheonyx yet and his stomach was already in knots. He had to stay far away from him. Maybe then, the feelings would go away. He wanted to lash out at Rick, at Pheonyx, the emotional turmoil raging in his head. But that wouldn’t do anything besides alienate himself further from this group. It might even put them in jeopardy of being kicked off the farm. And he couldn’t do that to them. 

“Work better alone”, he grunted at the man, not even looking at Rick. 

Pheonyx gave a nod, not taking offense to what he said. “So do I. But I spent last night creating a plan for the search. We can split up tomorrow but I need your help at least for today. I’ve been working with Kismet,” he tilted his head towards the dog at his side, some of his brown hair falling over his forehead. Daryl fought the urge to reach out and brush it back. “, on scent tracking for the last month. I need you to take me to exactly where she and Rick split up. He can follow her trail from there. It hasn’t rained so he shouldn’t have too much trouble.”

The sound of the younger man’s voice was like a soft blanket draping over his sweaty shoulders, it eased the tension in his muscles on contact. The sound wasn’t deep but husky and light. Creeping around his head like smoke from a campfire and easing the ever-present vigilance that Daryl had grown accustomed to. Almost losing his train of thought over the drug-like effect of Pheonyx’s voice, Daryl looked towards the sheriff, wondering why he couldn’t be the one to show the other man where Sophia went missing. As if reading his mind, Pheonyx continued, “Rick needs to stay here for Carl and Lori. And Shane fucked up his ankle at the high school. Or else one of them would take me.”

Pheonyx was right about Rick. Daryl couldn’t, in good conscience, ask the man to leave his son, who had just been at death’s door the day prior. And his stomach clenched at the idea of sending Pheonyx off with Shane. Daryl wasn’t entirely certain about Pheonyx’s gender identity. He could just be a biological male with more feminine features. But he suspected the man was transgender. It was no issue to him, but he had a fair idea that it would be an issue to Deputy Douchebag. Shane wasn’t as openly hateful as Merle was, but he was judgmental and sexist. Merle was a loud hateful person. He screamed and hurled slurs, made threats but he rarely ever reached the point of violence, unless he was high. But Shane, his hate was a simmering cauldron, just on the cusp of boiling. Quiet little bubbles that could easily lead to an exploding pot.   At the Quarry, the man kept camp duties fairly segregated in regards to gender. Women weren’t ever allowed on watch or runs, and were mostly kept to cleaning and cooking duties. Shane made the argument every time that the women weren’t trained and therefore would be liabilities. But he also refused to do gun training for anyone, citing lack of ammo as the reasoning. He didn’t go on long winded rants like Merle did. He chose sly comments and verbal digs as his weapons of choice. Offhand comments about “women’s work” and snorts when Andrea offered help with watches or runs. While Shane had never specifically said anything about LGBT people, Daryl just had a feeling that the man’s views would not be friendly. And with his suspicions regarding Otis’s untimely death, Daryl refused to put Pheonyx in the possible firing lane. Why he cared so much about a man he just met was something he was trying to avoid thinking about. 

Despite his personal preferences of working alone, and avoiding any more contact with Pheonyx to quell the feelings building in his chest, Daryl had to admit that having a scent tracking dog would give them a leg up in finding Sophia. Looking down at the dog, he had to contain a snort. The pup was on his back, body curled around, chewing on his back leg like it was a rawhide. He met Pheonyx’s gaze. 

“That mutt is a tracker? He don’t look like he’s got much goin’ on behind those eyes.” 

Pheonyx’s eyes drew together in confusion and he looked down at Kismet. Daryl noted a blush spreading across his tan cheeks when he realized what the dog was doing. At the sheepish look, he couldn’t contain his snort, and he heard Rick chuckle along beside him. 

The younger man nudged the dog with his boot, causing him to roll over into a regular down position. Daryl heard him mutter something unintelligible. Pheonyx stood firm though, the conviction in his expression settling in Daryl’s chest. 

“Okay, Kismet may not be the brightest crayon in the box, I’ll admit. But when he’s got a job he works hard. Unfortunately, you guys don’t have the luxury of shopping for a certified dog. I stand by him though. We’ve only tracked wildlife so far, but I would bet my life on this ‘mutt’”

Despite the voice in his brain telling him it was a bad idea, Daryl nodded his agreement to work with him and the dog. His heart sped up a bit at the thought of working closely with Pheonyx, but he brushed it off. He’d work with him to find Sophia. Then that was it. He’d back off and these intense feelings would fade. 

He hoped.

Next

Masterlist

Taglist: @yoongibaybee, @edgyboi10000

[myers-meadow]

Otis B. Driftwood x reader: Knocking on a stranger's door

Title: Knocking on a stranger's door

Warnings: none.

Pairing: Otis B. Driftwood x gn reader.

Wordcount: 787

Summary: You're stranded with car trouble, but a kind family helps you out. Otis puts your mind at ease with a warm drink and a movie - and keeps you warm in more ways than one.

This is the alternative beginning of this fic 'sweet thing/forgotten hot cocoa', so if you want to know how this continues, read that one!

Divider by @/delishlydelightfuldividers

Who’d thought the road trip would end with you on the couch of a strange house, watching a black and white movie, and next to you the eccentric man you met only just hours before? Car trouble lead you here, knocking on a stranger’s door for help. The big, gruff looking guy was out, fixing the car, refusing offers of payment, but not speaking much to ease your nerves. That was when Otis came, chatting with you, he took you to the kitchen where he rummaged around in the cabinets for two mugs. Deft hands with long fingers with dirt under the nails stirred cocoa powder and sugar in hot milk.

“Baby’s normally the one doin’ stuff like this for guests,” he mumbled, handing you your mug, a little roughly and it almost spilled. Without saying another word, he moved to the living room, and sank down into the couch. You followed, sitting down next to him, holding the mug with one hand, leaning it on your knee and adjusting the throw pillows behind your back.

“Thank you. You and your family are very kind,” you said. Otis put the mug down on the coffee table and shifted to look at you – really look at you. He said nothing still, just a calculating stare.

“Let’s see if they have a good movie on,” he said eventually, breaking the silence that made you fidget.

They did, or at least, to his judgement, one that was worth staring at and making  comments about every so often. After a few scenes, the female and male protagonists had a heated run in, and Otis’ hand crept up on your knee. A surprising but not unwelcome point of contact, as he was a handsome man – precisely the kind of rough around the edges that you liked. And now he was coming on to you? There was no way this was a friendly touch. He was hitting on you and the realisation made your heart hammer in your chest. You gave him a glance, which he caught; the eyes of a panther, a raised eyebrow, as if to say ‘are you gonna do something about it?’ and a barely perceptible squeeze of his hand. Then his eyes were back at the screen. The warmth of his hand spread through your entire body, and when he stroked his thumb back and forth it was a shock of electricity that almost made you jump. Before you finished the last of your hot cocoa, his hand had crept closer to the inside of your thigh. As you set the empty mug down, your hand touched his knuckles for just a second as you returned your hand to your side. You debated whether to be brave and make a move, or wait until he would. That brief touch would have to do, though, as the bravery quickly left you as he made some offhand comment about the scene that just played.

“Do you watch movies like these often? It’s an older one, right?”

He flashed a smile, “yeah, Mama likes ‘em. They’re not bad either, I mean, if you’re into that sort of thing. And Baby can quote them all dramatic like.”

“Really? That’s so cool. We never watched a lot of films, my parents and I. Is your family close?”

He leaned his head back for a second, his free hand digging into the ripped spot on his jeans. “Ain’t got nothin’ if we ain’t got family. They piss me off sometimes, though.”

You dared a short laugh when you spotted the smile he was trying to mask. “Sure they do. They sound like a great time.”

Something predatory bathed his face in shadow, but just for a moment. His grin showed plenty teeth. The hold on your thigh changed, tighter, fingers testing the give of the skin, eyes flickering over your body.

Otis turned his full attention to you then, letting go of your leg in favour of the back of the couch. “And you, you came here all alone?” his voice low and husky.

No partner – that was what he was actually asking. The way he looked at you made your breath hitch. He felt dangerous. It made you pause, before you shook your head. He grinned in response.

“Good,” he said, and two spidery fingers fell to your shoulder and walked their way to your neck, up until his hand wrapped around the back of your neck. You leaned in to him, letting one hand drop to his leg, the other copying his at the back of his neck.

“I’d love a sweet thing like you,” was all he said, and your lips met his in a hot kiss, tasting hot cocoa and whipped cream.  

[havin-fun-imagining-twd]

A measure of reverence, Pt. 2

When - about an hour and a half after you and Daryl headed off for another day of searching for Sophia, the morning of season 2′s Chupacabra. Part 2 is somewhat heavier than Part 1.

What - you get to a boarded up house and something isn’t right about it. That reveal from ‘What were your nightmares about?’ starts to come to a head.

Who - You and our mangy hick. I attempted a whisper of sensual tension and yes, y’all fight

Perspective - POV Daryl, POV You only twice. He takes over completely in the next one.

Pronouns - she/her

TWs - strong language, arguing, discussion of break-in, a child walker spotted, Daryl makes a sexist comment because he’s still learning and unlearning

Word count - it’s shorter like the Part 1

Be sure to read - What were your nightmares about?, and Part 1 of course. Why not cannonball into the whole series by checking out the Masterlist, slowpoke?

but are there terrible pictures? - always!

.............................

Mid-morning

.............................

Him

He didn’t end up nabbing a horse, he and Y/N took the motorcycle instead. It was the road they were searching first and the bike was way faster. And he didn’t want to ask Dr. Farmer about borrowing a horse because Dr. Farmer was probably gonna say ‘no,’ and Y/N was like “Dude, don’t steal a horse like it’s the 1800s. Let me go ask for you?”

Except, she was all hesitant to get on the bike at first. Kept staring at the gas tank for some reason. He didn’t think riding scared her. Didn’t she mention she’d learned how?

At any rate, they were off within a few minutes of the horse/bike debate.

Once they got there, he walked the bike to reduce the noise and save on gas...

...and the search was coming up emp-ty.

Empty houses, empty road.

Nothing but birds twittering and Y/N’s and his bits of conversation here and there. They called “Sophia!” every few minutes, and every few minutes they were let down again.

They didn’t search for supplies so much as cover as much ground as possible to try find any hint of somebody having come through.

“Those must’ve been the ones Otis checked,” she’d said, finally breaking what had mostly been silence for about half an hour. “Mr. Greene said he’d gone through to see if anybody was alive and bring back any survivors and to bury those that died. Not sure where the graves are, we saw, like, one,” she thought out loud. “But maybe most of them survived so went to a safe zone or evac spot?”

“It’s weird how there ain’t even geeks, though.” For this brief sec, he started to get creeped out. Where were the bodies? There had to be some.

“We’re callin’ them ‘walkers,’ remember. Way cooler than ‘geeks,’ like, literally.”

Always trying to lighten the mood, that one.

He actually knew (maybe?) how that nickname happened. “D’you know where that name came from?”

“Nah. Gotta say it confused me.”

“Came from the name for this crazy sumbitch at circuses who’d bite the heads off chickens.”

She didn’t even slow down, she full-on stopped walking and blurted out “What the fuck?”

“Yep.”

“Daryl, tell me you just made that up, that’s vile.”

“You didn’t hear Dale explain it around the fire that first night?” It was right after he told people about how he saw that chupacabra (he did see one, damn it) but people thought he was full of it.

She’d shivered as she tied a white strip to the telephone pole to mark the area. “Amy, Glenn and I got to talking about cryptid stuff with the kids after you said the thing about the chupacabra.” A smile. “Amy knew so much about mermaids and sirens.”

“How are we for time?”

She looked at her wrist. Dale lent her his watch again. “It’s only 9:31. High-five for this mighty good team right here, Dary-bear.”

After that, Y/N rested her hand on her stitches and looked at the property about half a football field away. “I think that’s the…that’s the one Mr. Greene mentioned.” She pointed. “Boarded up, closest to the road northside.”

From behind a big fir tree, he peered at the old house. The windows and doors were boarded on the bottom floor, clear on the top floor and attic. There were fruit trees in the big, woodsy yard. A large, faded shed. A tire swing and a metal slide. A kiddie pool. Overgrown tomato plants in what looked like a neglected garden.

A firepit. A compost heap. A chicken coop and run with a (ugh, that won’t be pretty) big gaping hole in the fencing. “What’s special about it, the fruit trees?”

“The family might, uh, they might could be inside the house. Alive or otherwise.”

A sensation like nausea swept over him for a moment, so he willed it down and he adjusted his grip on his crossbow.

“I’m guessin’ by the looks of it, it’s ‘otherwise.’ C’mon, let’s check it out,” he said. “They got fruit trees and kid stuff in the yard. If Sophia came by here, she prolly would’ve tried to go in the shed, at least.”

Y/N nodded and jogged toward the place—then shouted “Hello?”—and then started waving. Waving!

“Why you doin’ that?” he grated. He immediately started to pull her by her good arm back into the trees so they could approach less damn obviously.

Wrong move, because she wrenched it away and snipped, “Don’t you dare go grabbin’ people like that.”

He mumbled an apology (sort of) to be polite since she was his friend, but that’s it; because what was she doing? Fucking idiot. Since when was she that stupid? It would’ve been more to the damn point to superglue a target on their heads!

He said that to her, in fact, word-for-word.

Y/N’s muscles tensed up, just like before when her brother started spouting off about the search efforts. She licked her teeth, he heard her let out an exhale through her nose as if she were a bull about to charge, and the only way to accurately describe how her voice came out was ‘growl.’

“You better apologize, r-right fuckin’ now, you sorry piece of shit.”

Unfortunately, he let this fly out of his mouth: “You on the rag or somethin’?”

And she flung that shit right back at him: “Why? Lookin’ to get a used tampon shoved up your ass, bitch?”

He didn’t even realize she’d gotten up in his face until he felt her breath on his neck and under his chin. Hell, he could even feel the heat radiating off her body, she’d gotten real damn close.

But instead of looking all pissed off, her eyes got all wide like she was either alarmed or confused about something. They stared at each other.

Stared.

Swallowed.

Stared.

And it was the tiny, quiet, deer-in-headlights, shocked way she whispered, “Oh Moses, that comeback was disgustin’,” that despite his wishes made him lose it and start cackling.

............................

You

Of all things, his head bumped against yours when he burst out laughing.

It’s all good, though, it only served to break the tension more. You didn’t even realize you’d gotten so close until you felt his breath on your forehead but you were too taken aback at what had erupted out of your mouth.

Might as well make it more awkward, right? “For the record, I use pads and don’t have my period right now, though I finally did get it like two weeks ago,” you filled him in, letting yourself crack up a bit. At least the two of you weren’t having a catfight.

He groaned, “Goddamn,” and scratched the back of his head.

“Say, pookie?” you sassed, and earned a grumble in response. On second thought, you decided to leave ‘pookie’ more to Carol and stick with ‘mangy hick’ yourself. “Don’t go sayin’ stuff about girls and their periods, yeah?”

.........................

Him

That the following words out of her mouth would be a friendly, not-fake sounding: “You’re a good man, I know you’re better than that,” threw him off. Being that this wasn’t the direction he assumed the conversation would take, he looked down at the ground and shuffled slightly while he wracked his brain for a response.

‘You’re a good man, I know you’re better than that.’

But before he figured out what to say back, she muttered, “And I named-called you and got in your face, that wasn’t right, but please don’t…c’mon, man, don’t call me stupid.”

It wasn’t just the imaginary knee that kicked him in the dick that time, an imaginary fist punched him right in the ribs, too. He’d been an asshole, a big fucking asshole. Part of him is wished he really did get punched when he managed to hush, “You ain’t stupid.”

He also apologized for the thing where he asked if she was on the rag, that was shitty. He was sorry he grabbed her arm and started to pull her, too, that was way more shitty.

But hell if a civil-ass conversation didn’t follow.

Story is: she wanted anyone who ‘might could’ be in the house who ain’t a geek walker to know she and him were friendly so that they wouldn’t shoot, and that the guy who just died Otis had gone by already and wasn’t shot at.

Y/N had seemed so sad. “They live right off a connecting route, how many people must’ve seen it, stopped, tried their luck?”

“That’s why I’m sayin’ go careful and quiet,” he stressed. “Outta sight.”

“We’ll still need to trespass and potentially break and enter.”

“And if they’re alive in there, you’re still a big-ass target when you wave.”

She nodded and exhaled. Wait, why were her eyes wet?

“When we get there, I’ll knock and ask if anybody’s home. If nothing, it’ll attract any walkers might could be in there, that way they’ll all be in one place so we can put them out of their misery easier.”

Interesting way to phrase it, he guessed. Why this whole schtick was such a big deal, he didn’t get, but ‘put them out of their misery’ stuck with him as they crept smoothly through the side-yard.

It stuck with him when he noticed trails of feathers all over, starting with one leading right from the clumsy hole in the chicken pen.

It stuck with him as they saw the side-door with a sturdy wood slab covering the knobs.

It stuck with him as he peeked through a plank to look in a window and saw what must’ve been the pantry.

He had to make sure about something. “That thing you said before,” he asked under his breath, “Y’realize there ain’t nobody ‘in there,’ right? That’s gone.”

“Dr. Jenner explained what happens, and we all saw the brain scan.” Her voice got quieter. “I-I’m trying’ to maintain a measure of reverence, I guess, for who they was.”

“A measure of reverence,” he repeated.

She huffed and whispered, “Don’t,” as she firmly tapped on glass. “Hello? We ain’t—” she paused and turned down her accent. “We’re not here to hurt anybody or rob anybody, we’re only looking for supplies and a lost girl. We can’t tell if this house is occupied or not.”

She banged on the window again. Called again. “We are going to come into the house if we don’t receive some kind of response that there’s people inside.”

Following this, he thought he was having a stroke for a second before he realized Y/N said something in another language. “Was that Spanish?”

“Just giving this my due diligence,” she mumbled, then rapped on the siding yet again, and loud. “Three people are going to break in unless we know we should not! If there is someone in there, make yourself known, please!”

Smart to add a fake third person and to stay pressed against the house to remain out of sight.

Annoyed as he was at all that bullshit, he found himself stopping from making any comments because her voice had cracked a little. He looked over at them.

His annoyance shifted into something softer. “You okay?”

“What? Yeah, I’m just bein’ an idiot.”

He took it on himself to knock and call “We’ll leave if we know you’re in there, just give a shout. We don’t want no trouble.” He hoped his voice sounded somewhat gentle when looked at his friend and shrugged. “Due diligence, right?”

Her expression was tense. “Was this how you felt before you saw the chupacabra? Th-there’s somethin’ not right here, and it ain’t just that all the chickens been attacked, there’s—” A few, loud bangs on the siding and one final “Hello!” and she looked at him, not bothering to finish whatever her thought was. Then she took a few running steps back to that window to look in between the planks like he did and suddenly jolted.

“What’d you see?”

“I just—I think it was a squirrel or a rat?”

Ah. “Guess that answers if anyone’s home,” he said, talking at a normal level now.

“How did those get in? All the windows are accounted for.” She started sprinting around the house, so he jogged along. “All three doors are shut or planked, too. Roof looks fine…”

That was a little weird, he had to admit.

“Daryl? I-I don’t like this.”

Curiosity took over as he squinted up at the top floor, where all windows were either closed or had an unbroken screen. He continued to walk around, checking the top floor and attic space, but everything was intact. “I’ma check out the sheds and the well, then let’s go. We’re wastin’ time.”

Well, the first one was a woodshed, so that was a bust. Nothing else could fit in there but a few more logs. In the second, bigger shed, it was pretty tidy and had the usual stuff in there like a lawnmower, storage bins, shovels, tools, old paint cans.

The way some of the storage bins weren’t flush against the wall made him pause. That thing Y/N said the yesterday about how they’d found foster kids sleeping hidden between furniture and a wall to feel safer popped back into his head.

Wouldn’t you know it, when he looked behind, there was a tarp positioned around two of the bins to make what looked like a small, concealed sleeping area.

It was good, it was real good! And based on the map, this house was close enough to the woods by the highway to have made sense!

He called Y/N’s name and started trying to clue together any other indication of what that was and if it really could’ve been Sophia and for how long she might’ve stayed. Again, he shouted, “Y/N, I’m in the shed!”

The high he was feeling felt as if five espressos were buzzing through him. Must’ve be what Y/N felt like after that coffee mix-up this morning, ha. Where was she? She had to get in there and see it!

He called her name a third time.

It was the way she croaked back “Daryl,” that had his bolt was notched and ready before he’d even left the shed.

“Y/N? What’s goin’ on?” He aimed his sights all around when he saw her.

But his friend was simply standing there, panting, and holding a giant (and unfamiliar?) pair of bolt cutters while she stared at something.

“Y/N?”

The word “the” was repeated five times when lifted her chin toward it and was able to finally spit out the word “hatch.”

He walked closer and looked down at the basement hatch.

“I l-looked in the window again and there was a dead one inside and—” she paused to breathe, and a slow string of words that didn’t connect enough followed. “I didn’t know how the, w-with the squirrel, so I, um, the, it’s—”

“Y/N, hey. Zen.”

Her whole demeanor had changed, especially from how damn cheerful she’d been this morning. Eyes wide, she waved him closer with her good arm and crouched at the hatchway. “Th-the pachysandra was coverin’ it, but the handle,” she held up the bolt cutters, “It’s red, it-it stuck out.”

It took him a few moments to see what she was talking about.

The cellar hatch wasn’t shut. A brick was holding it open. By the looks of it, it had been broken from the outside. The latch was snapped.

“Cockroaches always find a way in,” Y/N whispered.

Nausea splashed through him again when he reached for the crowbar that had been lost in the overgrown ivy stuff and put two and two together, along with what she meant when she said ‘cockroaches always find a way in.’

“You saw just the one walker inside, Y/N?”

A nod. “I stopped looking when I saw him. He was very young. I don’t reckon he would’ve been alone when…” She trailed off and drew her gun.

“Why do you need that?”

“Just checkin’ it again,” she faltered.

“That a silencer on there?” he asked in reference to the extra thing on the end.

She shook her head. “A compensator.”

He had no idea what that meant, but he did know she was most likely fixing to go inside and use that gun. Why, he wasn’t so sure of.

“Sophia ain’t in there.”

She ejected the magazine to check the cartridges. “I know.”

“Then what are you doin’?”

With a slide and a click, she loaded it back up. “Giving them rest and buryin’ them. I don’t know exactly what happened or w-what we’re gonna find, but I can give them rest.”

Giving ‘them’ rest. There was no ‘them.’

But instead of saying that or arguing further at what he should have considered bullshit and a waste of time, he was nodding.

“We go in quiet,” he said to her. Why, he wasn’t so sure of.

“You’ll help me?”

“Quietly.”

Y/N looked back at her gun and flicked off the safety. “I want this ready when we first go in,” she stated softly. “Please trust me.”

A firm “I do,” came out of his mouth. Why, he wasn’t so sure of.

Their eyes met. She nodded and rummaged through her backpack. Took out a flashlight. Her lips wobbled when she said, “I’ll take care of the little one, okay? You don’t need to see that.”

Looking back, it should’ve seemed foreign and absolutely batshit that he would be busting into a house just to put down geeks. And yet, he gripped the hatchway with one hand, gripped his crossbow with the other, and at her go, flipped the doors open.

........................

You

Time did that thing where it sped up and slowed down, and the strangely comforting feeling of nothing took over.

It was what you feared: home invasion. The residents had been alive at the time, or at least some.

The family in that house loved each other very much, that was plain. Seems they’d all caught the fever, too, unfortunately. The perps must’ve been sick, too, because they’d also turned. Everyone in the home had.

The grandma wrote a note, but the handwriting was hard to decipher, plus it was in Spanish, so you couldn’t make out too much of it. You’d folded it up and put it in your backpack.

While you and Daryl put them to rest, you counted the ones you put down yourself, thought of your mother, thought of the memories of doing this for your middle sister and her family, and prayed that you and Daryl wouldn’t get bitten in the process. You prayed the family in the house was in a better place, and you…you battled back and forth between inwardly telling the two who broke into the house that they were trash and deserved how they went out versus hoping that they found some kind of redemption before the end.

Maybe it was all a horrible mistake and they didn’t realize anyone was still living there. It didn’t appear at first glance that they surrendered once they found out, but...still, you couldn’t know.

Dale’s watch is ticking away, reminding you that you need to get up from the chair you’d sunk into.

It’s time to bury those poor people, and get back out there.

............................

teeny-tiny taglist :D

@spenciepoo338​ @its-freaking-bats​ @whistlesalot​ @bitterteapot

(don’t sweat if you want off or on the taglist, my mailbox is open either way)

[slashv1xen]

Hi! I wonder, how will Otis comfort his crying s/o?

AH I MISSED YOUR REQUESTS TYY FOR THIS I LOVE WRITING HURT/COMFORT

otis is NOT good at comforting at all. however he’ll try (in his own way). otis would unintentionally be offensive, but just know it’s just the way his personality is and he doesn’t mean it (and if you guys are really close, he’ll apologise for it).

he would hesitate to say anything and give you affection, but he would let you rant for HOURS (he rants all the time too, so he understands).

following off that, he makes a much better listener than comforter (ex. words of aff. or physical touch). i also think that he wouldn’t judge you for the reason you were balling your eyes out (unless it’s something small in his eyes, like you getting an injury he deems as “small”)

one shot 💗

you were on the bathroom floor, sobbing. you were in a depressive mood and you were experiencing body image issues. you tried holding in your cries as good as you could, but that attempt was futile as soft knocking was heard on the door.

“baby? what’s wrong?” otis’s voice was very gentle, which was surprising as this man was far from it.

you sniffled, wiping your tears from your face, and mustered with all your strength a reply. “it’s nothing, i’m okay.” you obviously weren’t as your voice broke halfway through that sentence, and otis heard it clear as day.

“can i come in?” he didn’t wait for an answer and pushed the door open slightly, his face falling a little when he saw you with your knees to your chest and your eyes bloodshot red.

now embarrassed, you looked away, avoiding eye contact. it didn’t help that otis just kinda stood there, taking in this sight. this was the first time he’d seen you in such a vulnerable state (or anyone for that matter), so he wasn’t sure how to help and comfort you.

he sighed and approached you, sitting down on the dirty floor in front of you. he gently lifted your head and inspected your face, his expression turning slightly sad. “darlin’, what’s got you so down?”

you were quiet, and didn’t want to say what got you feeling like this. you were quite shy now, and you would rather have him just forget about this moment. “it’s nothing.”

otis chuckled, oddly amused. “nothin’? honey it ain’t nothing if you cryin’ a damn ocean. now tell me what’s wrong so i can help you.” his intense eyes stared into yours, and you suddenly felt nervous.

“i’ve just been so insecure of my body lately, that’s all.” you looked down as you admitted this, not wanting to see his reaction.

otis however, was dumbfounded. in his eyes, you were the most beautiful person in the world, and you were crying because you didn’t feel that way?

he let out a short laugh out of surprise, and your head perked up. why was he laughing? “is that it?” otis started, looking slightly relieved but his eyes showed hints of annoyance. “oh, i thought it was something serious, like you hurt yourself bad.”

you didn’t appreciate this, he wasn’t taking your feelings serious. you felt your eyes water up again and otis must’ve seen this, because his face fell for the second time and his smile faded.

he cupped your face, and took a deep breath. it was obvious that whatever he was gonna say would take all his strength.

“i’m…shit…i’m sorry, alright? look, you don’t need to feel insecure okay? you’re so damn gorgeous, i was just shocked that you. didn’t feel like that. but listen, tell me as soon as you feel like this again, and i’ll make sure you will never even have a thought like that.” his voice was soft and kind.

you gave him a small smile and he began doing something very out of character for him. he peppered light kisses all over your face, and he traced all along you back. his touch soothed you, and both of you were now basking in the embrace of one another.

[jungle-angel]

The House We Built: Part 1 (Miles Miller x Reader)

Summary: For the longest time, you and Miles have wanted a home of your own and it’s not long before your happiest dream becomes your reality. 

It all started with an empty Maxwell House Coffee can and a dream that you and Miles had brewing in your heads for the longest time. Ever since he had been in Vietnam and had come home to you, you both had a dream of finding a place for you two to live out your lives together. 

Miles stood at the desk, just staring at the coffee can after the last guest had checked in an hour before. His eyes stayed fixed on it as though he were waiting for something to happen, waiting for a magical genie or some sort of dragon or a baby troll to pop out. At least, that seemed to be the route his thoughts had been taking ever since he had gotten help for the severe PTSD that had kept him awake at night after returning to the states. Miles had always thought about those things, even before the war, but for some reason, they were much more prominent now. 

Miles jumped when a hand had landed on the desk bell, but when he looked up, he was relieved to see that it was only Otis, his father. “You falling asleep again?” Otis laughed. 

“Nah, just thinking, Dad,” Miles yawned. 

Otis nodded, adjusting ten month old Benny in the curve of his elbow. “You thinking what I’m thinking?” he asked his son. 

“Yeah, time to get the hell out of Lake Tahoe,” Miles said, the bored tone creeping its way in. 

“My thoughts exactly,” Otis chuckled. “It’s nice here, but there’s too many people moving out this way. Your Ma and I can’t even get a mobile home over at the trailer park for a decent price.” 

“What about the money from when you sold the house in Indiana?” Miles asked him. 

“I ain’t touching it until the time is right,” Otis told him firmly. “Besides, your mother would have a certain body part of mine if I did.” 

All of a sudden, Benny began to stretch his arms all the way out, making grabby hands for Miles. “Ok, ok, that’s the ‘I want Daddy’ look,” Otis mumbled. 

Otis handed Benny right off to Miles and no sooner had he done so than Benny did as he always did, his head dropping right to Miles’s shoulder as the ten month old sucked away on his pacifier. “You’re definitely tired little man,” Miles chuckled. 

Miles clocked out as soon as the next desk clerk clocked in for his shift, heading back to the quarters he shared with you to grab Benny’s knit blanket and his stuffed puppy. He and Otis both retreated to the back porch, taking a seat in the creaky old rockers and each with a glass full of a cool drink to stave off the afternoon heat that was hanging over Lake Tahoe. June had come at last and with it, wildfire season as well as the summer camps who would soon flood the corner stores on evenings when they would come down for ice cream. Yet summer had been the best months for you and Miles.....slow, easy and relaxing....just as it should have always been. 

“Where’d you get the coffee can?” Otis asked, pouring a small Jack Daniels nip into his glass. 

“Found it on the way back from the bank this morning,” Miles told him as he slowly rocked Benny to sleep. “I honestly have no idea why I picked it up. Maybe I went crazy again and started collecting garbage.” 

“Nah you’re not crazy, trust me, I did the same thing when I got back from Okinawa,” Otis told him, cracking into a can of Coke. “Now Mrs. Burns who lived down the street from us? THAT was crazy, right there.”

“Oh God,” Miles chuckled. “Crazy old bat was up to her eyeballs in that hoarder den she called a house. I swear Chubby came from her lot.” 

Otis cackled at the memory of the little grey tabby kitten that had become attached to Miles at three years old, growing old and happy under the Millers’ roof until St. Francis had called him back home. “Fuckin cat would follow your mother to work in the truck like he was a dog.”

As they talked on, Benny had fallen asleep. Miles carefully placed the baby in the playpen near the porch rocker, covering the top and the sides with the thick purple and gold sleeping bag to keep the sun off and Benny cool as he slept with his blankie and his puppy. 

“I dunno Dad,” Miles mused. “The more I think about it, the more I’m tempted to do something with it. But I don’t know what.” 

Otis scratched his chin and thought a minute. “You know,” he said. “A long time back when your grandparents were fresh off the boat from Ireland, your grandma used to stick any spare change she had in a tin breadbox. Maybe that’s the reason you found that empty coffee can.” 

Miles gave it some thought and had begun to wonder of his old man was right. Maybe that was all he really needed to do, just stick a little away each day until he had enough. 

The door creaked open and that was when he saw you walking in in your pretty denim sundress, your skirts brushing against your knees as you set the paper bags full of groceries down. “You have a good day?” you asked him. 

“Just long,” he answered before he playfully kissed you. “Benny’s asleep.” 

You two chattered on about your day while Otis offered to make dinner. Benny awoke just as your father-in-law had finished and as soon as Miles was done setting the table for dinner. You picked your baby up out of his playpen, taking his blankie and his puppy and setting it on the bed before you plopped him in his little wooden chair at the table between you and your mother-in-law’s place. Kathy was the last to come home and switch out her nurse’s uniform for a white embroidered sundress and a denim jacket, happy as ever to see you and the rest of your little family. 

Dinner was simple, but perfect despite having to be on the cheap, ground beef with seasoning, soy sauce, green onions and a big heap of white rice at the bottom. Benny of course, was a mess as always, but had almost cleaned his plate, something you were more than happy to live with. As soon as the dishes were cleared, washed and put away, you stuck Benny right in the bath, putting his dirty clothes in the laundry basket. 

You were in the midst of scrubbing Benny’s hair, the ten month old splashing around in the hot, soapy water and playing with his bath toys while you scrubbed away at the napiness. You looked up at your husband, noting the thoughtful look as he flicked the water on his fingers at Benny and prompted a burst of giggles from the baby. 

“Thinking again sweetie?” you asked him.

“Just a little (Y/N),” Miles answered. 

“Whatcha thinking about?” 

“I dunno,” Miles sighed. “A place of our own.....plot of land somewhere far away from here.” 

So he had been thinking about it again. 

“What do you wanna do?” 

“I don’t know sweetheart,” Miles sighed again, pushing one of Benny’s little plastic boats closer to him. “I just keep thinking that any day now, we’ll be able to just pack up and go.” 

You saw the wistfulness in his eyes, a look you knew too well from the early days of Miles being home from deployment. It was a look he usually got when he was thinking hard and deep. Though Miles hadn’t had a nightmare in over two years, you still wondered if that was where this was leading. 

You both finished giving Benny his bath and when he was finally done, you dried him off and stuck him in his little blue pjs, readying him for bed. He was asleep as soon as it was dark, the air conditioning unit cooling the room until you three could sleep comfortably. You gently scratched Miles’s back and shoulders, listening to him purr as you kissed the sweet spots you had practically memorized. He was a little bit more restless than usual, but thankfully no nightmares. 

“Baby,” you whispered, your lips pressed against his shoulder. 

“Hmm?” he hummed sleepily. 

“In my change purse,” you whispered. “There’s Two Fifty left over from the groceries. Put it in the coffee can.” 

You felt Miles’s hand gently squeezing your hip. “Baby no,” he said. “I can’t do that to you.” 

“Miles,” you whispered. “Please?” 

You whispered “please” over and over again, littering his soft cheeks with wet kisses until you were both a giggling mess, trying hard to keep it quiet so Benny wouldn’t wake. “Alright,” Miles half laughed. “I’ll do it.” 

Miles tossed aside the covers, moving through the dark to your purse sitting on the chair near the table. He opened up your little wallet and took out the two dollars and fifty cents, still feeling a little guilty of having taken your change. He put it in the coffee can on the bedside stand, crawling back in beside you and pulling you in close. 

For the next few days, you, Miles, Otis and Kathy made it a point to start putting your loose change into the coffee can, watching it all grow like a plant in a garden and hoping that soon, it would be enough for your dream home.

[morgue-ratt]

Can we get otis making reader worshipping his bloody boots 👀

Otis Driftwood x Reader Gender Neutral

813 words

Warnings: demeaning language, blood (obviously), captive reader, Otis just. in general. hes an asshole

THERE had been screaming earlier. You heard begging and then laughing and then… then nothing. You’d covered your ears and turned away from the window. The Fireflys were laughing and hollering, screaming in sheer delight as they ran through the woods and picked your friends off one by one. 

    You had been spared, dragged up to Otis’ bedroom and left here to wait, though as you heard the screaming you doubted your reprieve would be long. 

    You heard the family stomp through the house and storm up the stairs like a herd of buffalo; you wilted in on yourself as you heard them head down the hall. The door was flung open and at the sight of Otis Driftwood you felt genuinely ill; his face and forearms were covered in blood and almost immediately the room smelled like pennies. 

    Otis scanned the room, his strange eyes catching the low light and seeming close to orange in color. When he saw you he gave you a sinister grin and sauntering over, he’d obviously had fun. “Ya friends didn’t put up mucha a fight.” He ran his hand through your hair and the smell made your stomach churn, you whimpered and his grip tightened. “What’s the matter, Princess? I do somethin’ to offend you?” You shook your head as best as you could and Otis let out a snarl. “Speak up.” 

    You needed him to not be touching you. You needed his hands off of you more than you needed anything else, you could feel Otis whipping his palm against your scalp, using your hair to clean the excess blood off his hand just to watch you squirm. 

    “What’s the problem? Don’t like blood?” He slid his hand out of your hair and down your cheek, further coating you in blood. You shook your head and Otis laughed darkly. “Aw, you poor darlin’,” He cooed with no sympathy. “Feel bad now, trackin’ all this mess in here.” 

    “It… it’s fine,” You managed, your voice faint. 

    “Nah, I’m just bein’ rude, mean lookatchu. You’re pratically shakin’. Here, lemme clean up.” Before you could do anything in your defense, Otis had grabbed your hair again and was forcing your face into his blood soaked boot. “Well? Hurry it up now, get it clean.” 

    You couldn't breathe without flooding your senses with that horrid metallic scent and you thought you were going to puke. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean--” 

    “No, I’m sorry for offending you. Just tryin’ to clean up a little.” You gagged and above you Otis laughed again, grinding your face into leather. “Now, lick ‘em til they shine er I’ll be forced to do somethin’ unpleasant.” You whimpered before finally darting your tongue out to meet his boot. All it was was metal, you couldn't distance yourself from exactly what you were doing. Blood tastes like blood and that taste was overwhelming. You gave the curve of the boot another and Otis piped up; “Ain’t gonna get em clean like that, but if ya wanna spend all night on yer knees that’s yer business.”

    He was right. He knew he was right. You dragged the flat of your tongue across the toe of his boot and he crowed; “There you are, that’s it.” You didn’t want to like his praise but it made you feel good and spurred you on as you moved towards the soul and did your best with the worn rubber. Mud and blood here.

    Otis nudged you slightly and you pulled away enough for him to reposition and allow you to start on his other boot. He cocked his head thoughtfully and mused; “You know, I killed the one you were all cozy with, RJ had em cornered but I told him, them was mine.”  You didn’t look up, but if you had you would have seen his scowl at your nonreaction. You worked your tongue over the eyelets. “I had em on the ground, they spent their last moments groveling an’ beggin’ for their worthless life like a bitch.” Otis paused and chuckled darkly, nothing was ever nice about that laugh. “But you know all ‘bout that, don’tcha?” He moved his boot, the toe resting under your chin and making you look up at him, your eyes huge with fear and brimming with unshed tears. 

    He waited. 

    You swallowed thickly; “Y-yes. I know what it's like.” 

    He gave you a disturbing grin, you’d never known anyone who loved misery more. “Exactly right.” He put his boot back flat on the floor and you hesitated; “You waiting for an invitation? Best finish soon.”

    You continued the demeaning task, the blood and filth mixing so you could no longer taste either. You still felt ill, deep in your chest. 

    “There ya go. There’s a good little thing,” Otis groaned. You flicked your eyes up to meet his. “Just like that.”