tears comin out of my face

It’s Not Your Fault

Inspired by this concept


Today is the first anniversary of his family’s murders.

Work couldn’t have gone by any slower as your mind stayed on Frank all day. You hadn’t seen him in a few days and with today being what it was, you were worried for him.

Both relief and surprise flood through you when you hear a couple quick taps on your window before it was being opened.  In steps a no-bloodier-than-usual Frank Castle.

Words escape you as you don’t know if you should carry on as normal or make some kind of statement about the day’s memory.  Before you can make a decision, Frank decides for you.  

Keep reading

  • Travis: Step 1 - Take a knee, left or right, doesn't matter.
  • Griffin: No, right knee! 'Cause if you take a left knee...you know how the divorce rate is fifty-fifty? It's because, the knees. So go down on the right, or it's over.
  • Travis: Okay, now you're gonna reach in your pocket and make eye contact. This is very important.
  • Justin: Don't fall over.
  • Griffin: Don't fall over 'cause then you'll be a joke.
  • Justin: Yeah. And look at her straight in the eye, if she has eyes. Let's say she has eyes. Look her straight in the eye, okay?
  • Travis: Have like a half smile.
  • Justin: Like a half, knowing smile.
  • ...
  • Travis: Now you're gonna pull your hands out but you're gonna do this, like, clam shell kinda thing, where like, you're covering something up in your hand, what could it be?
  • Griffin: And it's a candy. It's a Werther's Original. Catch her off guard first.
  • Justin: She won't see that comin'.
  • Travis: And then explain to her that you got her a picture of a ring.
  • ...
  • Justin: No, you have a ring. Get the ring out. You open the ring, but open it sorta close to her face so it looks bigger. This is key. You gotta do it just that way. Now pull it back a little bit, 'cause you're freakin' her out. Hopefully she's crying at this point, right?
  • Griffin: Oh she's openly weeping.
  • Justin: Okay good.
  • Griffin: It's happy tears, though.
Imagine John Winchester (your father) hits you... Dean and Sam react badly... [REVISED] PART 1

BAM! The motel door slammed behind you as you stormed into the house, depositing your gun and knives on the bed furthest from the wall. BAM! BAM! It slammed open and right back closed again. “(Y/N) Winchester, don’t you dare walk away from me when I’m talking to you!”

“Well I’m done talking to you!” you growled back under your breath as your father rounded the corner of the bed towards you.

“That was stupid, (Y/N)!” John Winchester, your drill seargent of a father, roared at you. His face was red and the veins in his neck were bulging beneath the skin. The hunt had gone wrong that night, as all great nights go, and the wendigo had almost gotten a hold of your dad. You had burst out from your hiding spot too early, taking a blow to the ribs from the beast. John had shot flares at it, but your bloody torso had needed taking care of. The wendigo ran off, lost in the woods once more.

“An ammature mistake!” John roared again, turning his back to you and stalking to the fridge for a beer. He popped the top and took several deep gulps, giving you time to protest.

“Yeah! A mistake! I said I’m sorry a million times! Jeesh, would you let it go?!”

Your father turned and began shouting again. “Let it go? Let it go?! Dean would have never made a mistake like that! Hell, Sam wouldn’t have made a mistake like that!”

“I’m not Dean or Sam!” you shrieked at him, throwing your hands down in front of you.

“Well maybe you should be!”

“I’m not and I’m not ever going to be!! I’m not a frickin’ soldier, Dad! You can’t do this to me! You’ve gotta let it go, let me go-”

That was it for John. With two strides, he was across the room and right in your face. Fear sparked in your belly and you attempted to push him away, but he grabbed your wrist in a death grip, sending chills up your spine and making your mouth dry. “DON’T YOU DARE TELL ME WHAT TO DO! I AM YOUR FATHER, YOUNG LADY AND I WILL DO WHAT I SEE FIT!”

By now your anger was completely replaced with fear, its icy tendrils wrapping around your lungs and making it hard to breathe. “D-Daddy, p-please let go-”

“I SAID YOU DON’T TELL ME WHAT TO DO! I AM YOUR FATHER AND I WILL GRAB YOU IF I WANT TO!”

“DADDY!” you sobbed as his hold became unbearable, “PLEASE-”

SMACK!

The air left your lungs completely as the back of John’s hand impacted your cheek, making your head swing to the side and sting your skin. Eyes growing wide, you gasped and managed to shove John away, if not just because of his own shock. “(Y-Y/N)…” he stammered, jaw slack and beer bottle dropped to the floor, forgotten. “Oh God, baby, I’m so sorry-” he reached out towards you, and you backed away, clambering over the bed towards the door shrieking, “STAY AWAY FROM ME!”

“(Y/N), baby, I-”

“DON’T TOUCH ME!” you screamed at him, opening the door and sliding through it before John could grab you again.

Out on the sidewalk of the motel, you ran. You ran and ran and ran, the fear-fueled adrenaline filling your veins and making your vision blur. You darted across the street, narrowly missed by a car crossing. The driver honked at you and yelled profuse curses, but you couldn’t hear him over the pounding of your heart in your ears.

After running for a solid ten minutes, you came to a panting, shaking stop in front of a sleazy diner. The door chimed as it opened, and you stumbled to sit in a seat in the farthest booth from the door. Your skin was clammy, your heart still racing and the adrenaline replaced by a terrible sting from both your wrist and cheek. The cuts on your side had stopped bleeding, but still hurt like a bitch. You felt ready to collapse into exhausted sobs, but pulled yourself together by the frays when a plump waitress walked over to her.

Her face was concerned, brows furrowed and bright red lips pursed. “Sweetheart, are you alright?” she asked gently, reaching down to touch the table in front of you. Despite yourself, you flinched.

“I-I’m f-f-fine,” you stammered, really not wanting the woman to go away.

The waitress, as if sensing your thoughts, hollared towards the kitchen. “Marty! Gimme a cup of cocoa!” She sat down in front of you and took your shaking hand. “Sweetheart, you’re shakin’ like a leaf!” she exclaimed, her voice taking a motherly tone that reminded you of Missouri. “Is there someone I can call for you, baby?”

When she said that name- baby- you flinched and withdrew your hand, pulling your knees into the seat and hugging them. You only then realized how small you were, even for a young teenager. “C-Can I call my brother?” you asked quietly, sniffling and rubbing at your eye. Your cheek was no longer stinging, but a low, thrumming throb had replaced the earlier sharp pain.

The waitress nodded, giving you a pitying smile that made your stomach churn. “Gimme one second and I’ll get you the phone, doll.”

It really was only a few seconds before the waitress returned, steaming cup of cocoa in one hand and phone in the other. It was a clunky plastic phone that looked archaic, but you could hardly care as you looked at the numbers through a murky vision. You had two options- Sam, or Dean. Sam was at Standford, and the last time you had spoken with him was a few months ago. Dean was off on a hunt with Caleb, probably out of cell range. You called him anyway, and it went straight to voice mail.

I don’t know how you got this number, but unless your last name is Winchester, don’t call again. BEEP.”

“D-Dean,” you stammered into the phone, tears flowing from you now that you were actually speaking. “Dee,” the helpless sob wracked your frame and you dropped your head to your knees. “I-I need you, D-Dee…”

BEEEEEEP.

The dial tone sounded, and you sobbed again, dialing a different number this time. After several rings, a groggy voice answered. It was, to your surprise, a woman.

Hello?” she asked, sounded partially annoyed but partially worried.

“H-Hi,” you mumbled meekly. “I-Is Sam there?”

Yeah, one second,” the woman mumbled. You heard shuffled in the background followed by, “Sam, baby, the phone.”

A groan resounded, and you felt a tiny giggle bubble up desbite yourself. That groan just sounded so much like Sam that you couldn’t help yourself. “'Ello?” came the familiar voice, and your tears returned anew.

“S-Sam,” you sobbed out, unable to help it.

Wha- (Y/N)? (Y/N), kiddo, is that you?”

“Sam,” you managed through the tears, “I- I need- I don’t-”

More rustling came across the line, and you could practically see Sam rolling himself out of bed, training kicking in as he threw on clothes and shoes. “(Y/N), what’s wrong?”

You were unable to answer, throat constricting around itself. The waitress that was hovering around you put a gentle hand on your shoulder, frowning at your flinch, and took the phone from you. “Hello?”

You didn’t hear Sam’s part, but you could barely hear the squat little waitress talking to him in hushed tones as you struggled not to hyperventilate. “Poor thing came in all in a flurry. She’s still shakin’ like a leaf… I dunno what happened, hon, but she’s got a nasty bruise on her cheek… No sir, she’s alone… 1616 Lan- huh? Oh, um, Mound House, Nevada. Where are you again, hon?… Oh, goodness, that’s a drive- No, no! It’s no problem, we’re open 24/7… Okay, honey, I’ll put you back on with her.”

(Y/N)?” came Sam again, and you felt a small warmth just from the sound of your big brother’s voice. “(Y/N), I’m comin’ to get you, kiddo, it’s only a four hour drive so I’ll be there soon- just stay there, alright? Stay with the waitress and I’ll be there really soon, okay kiddo? Just stay there and I’ll be there soon…”

“S-Sam,” you gasped out, tears running down your face freely.

It’s gonna be okay, kiddo, alright? I promise you, it’s gonna be okay.” There was a loud beep, and Sam coughed. “I’ve gotta hang up now and give Jess the phone back, but I’ll be there really soon, okay? I’ve got my cell phone and I’ll call you when I’m close-”

“D-Don’t got my phone,” you told him, and Sam cursed.

Does Dad have his? I’ll call him-”

“NO!” you exclaimed, and the waitress jumped. There was a frightening silence across the line before Sam spoke again.

(Y/N), did Dad… Did he hurt you?”

Having your night finally put into words, the dam finally broke. Sobs wracked your frame and you were unable to answer, snot and tears running down your face as you rubbed furiously, only aggravating the bruise on your cheek. The waitress took the phone back and talked to Sam again, although you couldn’t tell what they were saying. You could hardly even think, for that matter.

After a few minutes- or hours, time seemed to fly when your brain was trying to poud its way out of your skull- the waitress pulled you up to stand and took you to a little room in the back of the diner. And there you sat for the full four hours waiting on Sam. Every couple of minutes a head would poke in and offer you something- food, drink, a jacket- you declined every offer with a dull shake of your head. By now, you sobs had settled into soft hiccups and frail, shallow whimpers.

Hours, minutes, weeks, days. Time had no meaning to you as you sat there in the back room, knees drawn up to your chin, as you lolled back and forth, fighting sleep.

Finally, blessed finally, the door creaked open and a shaggy brown head popped in. Big, hazel eyes looked around the room for a minute before settling on you, and a broken voice muttered, “(Y/N)…”

Before you knew what was happening, your brother was around you, hugging you, kissing your forehead and nose, checking out the bruise on your cheek. He was whispering sweetly to you the whole time, placing his jacket around your shoulders and rubbing your arms warmly. You thought you had cried out all of your tears, but they began anew when Sam lifted you up into his arms, holding you like you weighed nothing. You nestled up close to him despite th pain it caused your scratches, gripping his hoodie tightly and burrowing your face in his shoulder. You heard the waitress- the oh-so-kind waitress- talking softly to him and felt her pat your shoulder.

“You make sure to take good care of her, young man.”

“Yes, ma'am.”

It was so like Sam to say that, to be so confident. You knew he couldn’t protect you, though. You would eventually have to go back to John- you were underage, after all- and then Sam would go back to Stanford, and you’d be alone once more.

You were set down in a car, the heat turned up on high and making it cozy despite the chilly sleet outside. “(Y/N)? Kiddo, please look at me, please.”

Sam sounded so broken that you had to look up, look deep into his hazel eyes. It was the first time you had actually sat up straight in nearly five hours, and your back popped painfully. Sam’s face softened even more when he saw the bright blue bruise that stretched from your cheekbone up towards your eye. “Oh, kiddo,” he whispered sadly, hugging you once more. “I’m not gonna let him ever lay a hand on you again, (Y/N),” Sam promised you. He kissed your forehead, resting his lips there as he spoke. “I swear to God, he’s never gonna touch you ever again.”

For the first time in a long time, you felt a warm blanket of safety rest over you. And you fell into a blissful, painless sleep…

Twins

first can i just say everything you’ve posted lately has been incredible!! (especially Addicting <3) so my request is the bau is on a case, and reader is one of the kidnapped victims, that spencer had a onenight stand with years ago. and while theyre working the case, he find out she has twins girls from then? and they eventually actually get together after the case, thanks!!

Oh my word, I am so glad you are enjoying everything!  Really!!  I can do this.  I hope that you enjoy your one-shot, because here it is…comin’ ‘atcha!


Staring wide-eyed at the man beside you, your battered face still dripping blood as tears well in your eyes, your mind flashes back to that night as his head turns quickly towards you, a wet rag coming up to wipe away at the droplets of blood as he tries to keep from connecting his eyes with yours.

But he couldn’t.

He had thought of your face, twisted in pleasure and pried open with yelps of submission, every night for years.  He remembered how you breathed his name, how your touch ignited a side in him that not even he was aware of.  You hadn’t judged him for his lack of experience, and had told him to do what he wished…to explore what he wanted…for an entire weekend.

The two of you had not only shared personal, primal sexual experiences, but the two of you showered together.  Bathed together.  Ate together…for an entire weekend.

And then you were gone.

“Y/N?” he asks, his voice trembling as you are ripped for your thoughts, the same thoughts, as you blink your good eye rapidly.

“Y-yes?  Uh, yes, S-…Spencer…?”

As he looks at the agent driving the car, a stern man with dark features, you see him give a light nod before Spencer turns his face back towards yours.

He knows.

Oh god, he knows.

But before either of you could say anything to one another, you feel the large SUV come to a stop in front of the police station.

“We’re here,” the man says, opening his car door as you and Spencer continue to hold each other’s stare.

And just as the man rounds around and opens your side door, you clench your jaw lightly before tears spring to your eyes.

“I’m so sorry,” you whisper before sliding over on the seat, your feet dropping to the pavement as you scramble inside to the police station.

You couldn’t wait to wrap your arms around your girls.


“Mom!”

As the two twin girls, identical in nature, scramble towards you, they run hastily into your arms as a wide-eyed, shocked man rounds the corner, his voice deep and his skin dark.

No one could deny exactly how much these girls looked like Spencer.

From the disheveled hair that bounced around their shoulders all the way down to the big innocent eyes and the full lower lips, everything about them screamed their father…

…and all Spencer could do was stare in wonder.

The girls couldn’t be more than two, he thought as he counted the months, days, and even minutes back to that night.

Two years and three months, to be exact.

“Mommy hurt,” one girl says.

“Oh, Ava,” you breathe as you press your chapped lips into her chunky cheek, “Mommy’s just fine.”

But the other little girl only continued to cry.

“Sssshhh sh sh sh.  It’s ok, Olivia.  Mommy’s right here.”

Ava and Olivia.

Hotch and Morgan watched Spencer murmur their names, his lips contorting as he felt how their names rolled off of his tongue.

Picking the girls up as the cling their arms and legs to you, you stumble over to a desk as Spencer rushes in front of you, wiping his entire arm over the desk as he knocks everything to the floor.

He had a family.

Spencer Reid had two daughters.

Watching you struggle to set the girls down gently, he grabs one of them without thinking as the both sit on the desk, Olivia looking at Spencer oddly before he quickly removes his grasp.

“Let’s…give them some time,” Rossi says as he begins ushering everyone out of the room, the police and the team flooding out of the station muttering things about food and clean-up and evidence.

Looking over at Spencer tentatively, fearing the worst, you watch as his head slowly turns towards you, confusion stained with a bit of wonder peppering his face as your brow twitches lightly.

“Girls?” you begin as you whip your back to them, “This is Spencer.  He’s the man that saved me.”

As the girls turn their big brown towards him, their faces lighting up, the begin to smile big at him as Spencer smiles back.

His girls.

They were smiling because of him.

“Thank you,” one of them says.

“You’re very welcome…”

“Olivia,” you whisper lightly towards him.

“Olivia,” Spencer smiles.

But Ava looked a little more tentative.

“Ava…?” you urge lightly.

“I see him,” Ava says as she looks at you with a frown on her face.

As Spencer furrows his brow, he looks towards you as you cock your head lightly at your daughter.

“No, no, sweetheart.  You’ve never met Spencer,” you say.

“Pi’cher,” she says.

“Pitcher?” Spencer asks.

But your mind was wafting back to a few weeks ago…

…when you caught Ava pulling out your bedside drawer and rifling through its contents.

“The picture…” you breathe.

“I see him in pi’cher,” Ava says as she points at Spencer.

Sighing as you close your eyes, tears begin rising behind them as you open them, the salty stains trailing down your cheeks as Spencer takes your hand lightly within his and urges you to look at him.

“You have a picture of me?” he asks.

“I uh…” you stammer.

Your daughters were flickering their gazes between you two as they swing their legs off the side of the desk.

“…maybe took a picture of you with my phone that weekend,” you admit.

Spencer’s body was now fully turned towards you as his hand squeezed yours reassuringly.

“You were, uh…”

Beginning to tremble, Spencer wraps his arms around you as he rubs your back, your daughter’s continuing to stare as you sniffle deeply into his chest.

“…you were reading.  And the sun was streaming through the window.  So I took a picture.”

Spencer held his grip on you before you pulled away from the hug.

“I had it printed off later…” you mumble to yourself.

“Mommy ok?” Olivia asks.

“Mommy’s just fine, sweetheart,” you breathe.

“Eats,” Ava says.

“In a moment, Ava,” you breathe.

“Now,” she demands.

“I said in a second, honey,” you coo as you turn your tired gaze towards her.

“Fench fi!” Ava says as she claps her hands.

It made you sigh and roll your eyes as you shake your head.

“So demanding,” Spencer murmurs before he chuckles lightly.

“Welcome to my world,” you roll your eyes.

The sentiment caused you both to pause.

“I’d like to be…” Spencer trails off.

“I didn’t-…I didn’t mean it like that,” you begin as you stumble over your words.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he pleads lightly.

“Tell what?” Olivia asks.

“Tell what, Mommy.  Tell what.  Tell what tell what tell what!” Ava begins to chant.

“Girls,” Spencer steps in as you close your eyes to try and rid yourself of the deep-seeded ache in your body, “give the adults some time to talk.”

“Yes, sir,” they both answer in deadpan unison.

“It was just a weekend,” you breathe as you shake your head.

“Is that what you thought when we walked away…?” Spencer asks, hurt rising in his eyes as he thinks back quickly to all of the times your face, your…your sounds…got him through the rough cases over the past two and a half years.

Your silence as you wafted back into your own memories answered his question for him.

“Fench fi,” Ava mumbles to herself.

“In a minute!” you roar, taken aback by your own anger as your eyes widen, watching the fear contort on your girls’ faces as their eyes begin to water.

“Girls, I-”

But you watched them cower back from your outstretched hand as your jaw begins to quiver.

You bit your tongue in order to hold back the string of curses as the guilt started to waft into your gut.

“Girls, you wanna go get some food?” Spencer asks as he steps in front of your trembling form, the team looking in on you all now as you begin to slowly back up.

You felt your own panic rising up in your throat as Hotch strides quickly over to you.

“Come here, let’s go get you some water,” he says lowly as he wraps his arm protectively around you as you listen to Spencer convince your girls…his girls…to go get some food at the diner up the road.

“But Mom?” you hear Olivia ask.

“She just needs some time.  She’s been really scared the past few days, and she needs to rest for a bit.”

“Yell,” Ava sniffles as a tear pours down her cheek.

It was then that Spencer reached out and touched his daughter for the first time, soaking up her tear with his thumb as he smiles lightly through the tears in his own eyes.

“Do you like running outside?” Spencer asks.

He watches his daughers both nod their heads.

“Do you ever have to stop and catch your breath?” he asks.

And again, he watches them both nod.

“Well,” he says as he takes their hands and helps the off of the desk, “your Mom has been running for a long time, and right now she just needs to stop and catch her breath.”

“Then fench fi?” Olivia asks.

“We’re gonna go get some food now,” Spencer smiles down at them as they each take his hand, “while your Mom rests.”

“Ok,” the two girls say in unison as they walk outside with Spencer, your body shaking as Hotch helps you sit down.

“It was just a weekend, I never meant to hurt him.  Please, I never meant to hurt Spencer.  It was just a weekend…just a weekend…”

“Hey,” Hotch coos as he rubs your back, feeling someone place a bottle of water in your hand as you cover your face with the other, “he may be confused and a bit side-swiped, but he’s not mad.  Reid rarely gets mad.”

“Reid?” you ask.

“Yeah…?” Hotch says as he furrows his brow.

And then realization dawned on him.

You didn’t even know his last name.

And he realized, then and there, that even if you had wanted to find him, it would have been close to impossible.

“I’m so sorry,” you breathe as you begin to sob, the bottle of water falling to the floor as you curl in on yourself.

“I’m so, so sorry,” you whisper into your knees.

I Thought You Were Gone

Request: Hey! I absolutely love your blog. Definitely one of my favorite TWD pages. I was wondering if you could write an imagine where Carl has been missing on a run for a few weeks and when he comes back you tell him how worried you were and that you love him. Thanks :)

Title: I Thought You Were Gone

Today marks the third week Carl has been gone. For exactly 21 days my mind conjured up absolutely terrible ways Carl could be shot down, ripped apart, and taken away from me forever.

And the worst of it all is that he doesn’t even know how much I truly care for him. Yeah, we spend most of our time with each other considering we’re the only teenagers in the group, but I’ve never gotten the confidence to tell him I’m in love with him. Maybe it’s because he’s never mentioned anything relationship-wise after all this time we spent with each other, which makes me wonder if he feels anything at all for me other than a friendship. I regret not telling him that I loved him before he left… ugh, enough with this mushy stuff. I’m never this emotional.

I roll out of my bunk and slip into my jeans and throw on my brown leather jacket. It’s starting to get colder outside, making me worry more about Carl and the others’ safety… I’ve gotta stop thinking about them. Worrying will not help them get here any quicker or safer.

I take a left turn out of my cell, then down the stairs and out the doors to get outside. Being cooped up inside this prison makes me go crazy, I gotta get out and do something.

I go out to the garden out front where Maggie occupies herself at the moment. We greet each other quietly, both of us lost in our own thoughts of our friends getting into trouble out there. Rick, Glenn, Daryl, Carl, Michonne— they’re all out there somewhere, hopefully all alright and just waiting it out somewhere safe.

We pick vegetables in a comforting silence, occasionally making small talk ‘bout the weather or the soup Carol’s cooking, anything but our missing friends.

The sound of somebody coughing up blood yanks our attention away from the vegetables, and my eyes find people just outside the gate. I jolt upright, dropping whatever I had in my hands and sprinting to the gates to get a better look.

“O-Open the gates!” the man coughs as their group gets closer, killing off nearby walkers.

I recognize that voice immediately. “It’s Rick! Maggie, get those gates open!” I yell over my shoulder, adrenaline surging through my veins as I race to them.

They’re safe. My group— my family— is safe. My family is alive and out of harms way, and I couldn’t have asked for this at a better time or place. I mean, they definitely could have came sooner and made us worry less, but right now that’s the last thing I’m thinking about.

Maggie cranks open the gates and by now, most of the group inside the gates have joined me to greet the others. My eyes scan over them, not seeing any major injuries that could be fatal. Suddenly, I lock eyes with Carl, and I can’t hold back my sobs. He’s here. He’s alive. He’s safe.

The gates fly open, and I bolt to Carl. He catches me, almost falling over, and embraces me in a hug so tight I can barely breathe, but that’s the last worry on my mind.

“Y/N—” Carl stutters, and I can tell he’s crying.

I squeeze him tighter, my right hand tangled in his hair and my left arm rubbing his back soothingly. “I was so worried, Carl. I didn’t think you were comin’ back,” my voice cracks at the end, and I quickly wipe at the tears blurring my vision.

“Me either… I didn’t think I was ever going to see you again,” Carl tells me, his voice soft and worried.

“I-I love you, Carl,” I finally let out, burying my face in his neck.

“I love you more, Y/N,” Carl lets me go, then grabs my face, kissing me hard on the lips.

My body goes slack for a second, not expecting the sudden act of passion. My hands rest on his chest as I kiss him back, my whole being radiating pure bliss. My boy is back, and I finally got to tell him that I love him. And to make it even better, he loves me just as much, and I couldn’t be happier.

I knew this world was gonna be different, but we can make it the best we possibly can. Love was something I didn’t think I would come across, considering the circumstances and all, but being wrapped in this boy’s arms makes be believe in everything and anything. I love Carl, and I can see it in his bright blue eyes that the feeling is mutual. Now, I know living in this world doesn’t have to be so bad.

Out In The Cold - Daryl Dixon Imagine Request

collidewithptv-me asked:
Can you do one where your pregnant with Daryls baby. And it’s pre apocalypse. Your both pretty young, he’s not happy about it. But as time goes on he accepts it. And by the end he can’t wait to meet the baby. He is there for you during labor
. -
I hope you enjoy this @collidewithptv-me I didn’t follow all the way to labour as I got so caught up with the rest of it.

CHAPTER ONE
It’s strange what you notice in these moments. You notice how your nail polished has chipped from the thumb on your right hand, a stray cat hair on your black skirt and a tiny hole forming in the knee of your tights. The package said to give it at least three minutes, you had no idea how long that could be until this moment. You stand up and look at yourself in the mirror, feeling suddenly panic stricken about how this one thing is going to change your life immeasurably. The timer goes off on your phone and you press the stop button. You pick up the little white stick and as you see the little pink cross in the result window you close your eyes and begin to cry.

CHAPTER TWO
You wrap your denim jacket around you and take a deep breath. You know Daryl’s home, you saw him pull up on his bike half an hour ago, but you’ve been sat in your car trying to find the courage and pull together the right words to tell him that his life is over. You knock on the door and a few moments later Merle appears. He smiles at you with a slight leer which makes your scalp prickle with unease. ‘Well hey there…I ain’t seen you for a few weeks..Did you finally realise you’d been datin’ the wrong brother?’ He crosses his arms over his chest and you close your eyes and take a deep breath. ‘Is Daryl home?’ Merle nods his head and stands back to let you in. ‘Hey lil brother you have a visitor.’ Daryl walks into the living room, and for a second you have to resist the urge to smile at him. You’d been sweet on him for a long time, and when you two finally started dating it was intense. But it all ended a month ago when you heard he’d slept with some girl called Tracy who worked as a waitress by day but was a stripper by night. You clench your hands into balled fists and swallow a golf ball that seems to be lodged in your throat. ‘Hey!’ He looks you over and for a second you see that glint in his eye, the one that was there when he told you he loved you, the one that was there the first time he took your clothes from your body and made you feel things you had never felt before. He nods his head and drawls ‘Hey, wassup?’ You gesture to his bedroom ‘Can we talk somewhere erm…Privately?’ Merle laughs and grabs his jacket and keys ‘I can take a hint…Hey brother, don’t go wakin’ the neighbours now!’ Merles laughter fades away as the two of you stand looking at each other across a coffee table strewn with empty beer bottles, cigarette buts and bike magazines. Daryl goes to the fridge and pulls out a beer ‘Want one?’ Despite feeling that it might calm your nerves, you shake your head and sit down on the tattered sofa, which despite all appearances is really comfy. You feel your cheeks flush with colour as you remember an afternoon Daryl spent being very attentive of you, his head between your legs.

Daryl looks over at the colour in cheeks and smiles at you, like he can read your mind and remembers the way he made you scream his name for hours. ‘Ya look good…How you been?’ You start fidgeting with your hands in your lap. ‘Actually that’s why I’m here…I erm…’ You take a deep breath and watch as Daryl becomes still waiting for you to talk ‘I’m…I’m pregnant!’ Daryl takes a huge gulp of his beer ‘And what you think it’s mine?’ You stand up, your fists balled once more ‘Well it ain’t anyone elses!’ Daryl stands and gets in your face ‘Oh yeah, how am I supposed to know…You ain’t exactly been lil miss chatty with me have ya…As I recall you dumped my ass!’ You push at his torso and feel your eyes beginning to cloud ‘Only because ya slept with that fuckin’ girl from the bar…You’re such a fuckin’ asshole…I can’t believe I wasted my time comin’ here to tell you!’ You start walking towards the door when Daryl shouts ‘I ain’t fuckin’ interested, you hear me? Don’t come back!’ You turn and look at him, the pain of his words overcomes you and you let out a sob as tears stream from your eyes ‘Don’t worry…My mistake..I shoulda known you’d be exactly like your daddy!’ Daryl’s face clouds over and as you make your way to your car, you hear a bottle smash against the living room wall and hear Daryl’s rage destroy the room you’ve just been stood in.

CHAPTER THREE
It’s been three months since you told Daryl the news and you haven’t heard anything from him since. The Dr keeps telling you that you’re slightly underweight considering you’re now into the first trimester of pregnancy. You don’t have the energy to tell the Dr that it’s because you spent the first few weeks crying with no appetite for food. Daryl’s words really cut you up. You’d never been one of those girls with loose and easy morals, he once told you that’s what he loved about you. The fact that you was tough and pure, just his. And you had been, you hadn’t slept with another soul before Daryl Dixon. You push open the door to the tiny apartment you’re now renting from Mrs Greenbach, a wonderful old lady who took you under her wing and is massively undercharging you to live there. Your folks didn’t take the news well and after your daddy slapped you across the face, your mother pulled all your clothes into a bag and told you not to come back. It’s been hard but you’re pleased with what you’ve achieved. You managed to get more hours at the grocery store and although you get judgmental looks from colleagues and customers, being pregnant at the age of 20, you feel a swell of pride at the fact you’ve bought most of the things the baby needs yourself. Whilst Daryl might not want to have much to do with you or the baby, you can’t help but feel love for the tiny thing growing inside of you.

You unpack your meagre groceries and put the kettle on to boil, although you don’t drink much of it you could really do with a coffee, you’ve been given an extra shift at the store and the prospect of extra money is important to you right now. You’re just about to pour the milk in when you hear a knock on the door. You walk over to the door and don’t bother checking the peephole, no one knows you’re hear and you just think it’s going to be Mrs Greenbach checking to make sure you’re ok. So when you see him stood there, you feel all the breath leave your body and you have to grip the door to stop yourself from falling. Daryl looks at you his jaw slightly clenched but when he talks he sounds amicable ‘Can I come in?’ You stand and stare for a moment, and subconsciously bring your hand to your stomach, you nod your head and stand to the side as you let him in. He looks around the room, and despite knowing where he lives you feel ashamed of the humble surroundings. Daryl sits down on the sofa as you shut the door and turn to face him with your arms crossed. ‘I’m just making a coffee, can I fix you a drink?’ Daryl  nods his head and stands following you into the kitchen area, you go through the motions of taking a cup down from the shelf, opening the tea. ‘Are you allowed to drink coffee?’ The kettle whistles and you take it from the heat and slam it on the side ‘Are you fuckin’ kidding me Daryl? You’re asking me if I can drink coffee after you accused me of cheating and threw me out of your house? What fucking right do you have?’ He stands silent, his face etched with tension. You turn your back to him, suddenly exhausted and aware of every area of tension in your body. ‘Please leave…I don’t need another lecture from you.’ You hear him exhale loudly and turn round to see him leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed ‘I ain’t leavin, I came to talk.’

You finish making him his tea and your coffee and walk in to the sitting area in silence. You put his tea on the coffee table and fold your hands around your cup. ‘Well…Just say what you need to say and leave. I have work at 5pm.’ Daryl sits down and brushes a hand through his hair, he reaches into a pocket and pulls out a cigarette. ‘Can’t smoke in here.’ You sip your coffee and appreciate the hit of caffeine on your tongue. Daryl sits back in his chair and puts it away. ‘Why are you here? How are you here?’ Daryl looks at you and you realise how his eyes used to make you feel. ‘Merle saw Janine, she told him you were..ya know and that you were here…Came home and kicked my ass.’ You can’t help it but a smile plays across your mouth. Despite all his faults Merle was always vocal about dropout dads ‘Good!’ Daryl nods his head ‘How come you didn’t tell me your folks had kicked ya out?’ You put the coffee down and lean back in the chair, once again subconsciously placing your hands on your stomach. ‘Well as a I remember you told me the baby wasn’t yours and kicked me out…Remember?..Anyway I’ve been fine.’ Dary tilts his head ‘Ya look a bit skinny and tired.’ A bitter laugh fills the room and you lean forward ‘Well shit Daryl what do you expect? I found out I was pregnant to someone I fuckin’ loved, they throw me out and then my parents do the same! I barely slept and ate for weeks until I found this place, Janine was the only person I had there for me!’ You feel your cheeks flush and your eyes begin to tear up. Daryl looks like a puppy that’s been kicked. It almost makes you want to wrap your arms around him, but you can’t, he’s hurt you too much. ‘Well ya should have told me. I could have helped, you could have moved in with me and Merle.’ You say nothing and the silence is overpowering. ‘How’s…How is the baby?’ Your eyes flick up to Daryl’s and you see a genuine look of concern on his face ‘The baby is fine..The dr told me I need to eat more but the baby is fine.’ Daryl nods and smiles ‘Good..that’s good! Do you know what it is yet?’ You shake your head ‘No, I have a scan in a few weeks though.’ Daryl comes over to where you are and kneels in front of you ‘I’m sorry ok…I’m gonna try. I want to be there.’ All you can do is nod your head. After all the hurt he’s caused you, these words are empty to you.

CHAPTER FOUR
You stand up and look about the waiting room once more before resigning to the fact that he’s not coming. You feel your cheeks flush with shame as the nurse looks at you with pity.  ‘Hold up!’ you turn and see Daryl running towards you.

You take in his appearance his jeans are covered in grease and the sleeveless shirt he’s wearing shows off his dirty arms and hands. The nurse wrinkles her nose in disgust ‘Sorry Sir but this is for the parents only.’ He nods his head and tries to get his breath ‘I’m the father.’ The sound of those words sends a warmth rushing through your body and you feel your eyes sparkle. The nurse says ‘Oh..Well ok Sir, but can I ask you to wash your hands first please.’ After a few moments you’re both in the darkened room, the nurse lifts up your top and for some reason you feel embarrassed about Daryl seeing this much of you. A ridiculous thought but it’s been so long, you breathe in as the cold jelly is rubbed on your stomach ‘Right then let’s see shall we.’ The room is filled with a sound you’re familiar with but Daryl’s face lights up ‘Is that?…’ The nurse laughs and nods her head ‘Yes sir. That’s your baby’s heartbeat.’ Daryl reache’s forward and grabs your hand in his and pulls it to his mouth ‘Well shit..What a beautiful sound!’ The nurse points to the screen ‘Well here’s the head, there’s the little things torso and arms..Look the baby’s making a fist.’ Daryl squeezes your hand ‘Shit..This is amazing..That’s my baby.’ You feel your eyes cloud over, the look on his face washing away all the doubts you had about him genuinely wanting to be there for you and the baby. The nurse continues to look at the screen ‘Right ok…Are you two ready to find out what you’re having?’ You can’t speak and can only nod your head. ‘Well…You two are going to be having a beautiful, and healthy baby girl.’ Daryl brushes his hands through his hair ‘We’re havin’ a girl…’ He reaches forward and before you can register what’s happening he’s kissing you on the mouth.

Once you’ve cleaned up and left the room to collect the scan photo. Daryl comes over to you immediately and places his hands on your cheeks ‘That was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen after you.’ You furrow your brow and push away, he looks confused ‘What?’ You roll your shoulders and walk towards the receptionist’s desk ‘What are you doing? You haven’t spoken to me three months and then as soon as you see the baby you’re kissin’ me and touchin’ me like everything’s normal.’ Daryl takes in your words ‘Well, I want them to go back to normal..If you do?’ You try to keep your voice low as you wait for the smiling woman behind the desk to get your photo of the scan ‘Are you forgetting that you fucked another girl behind my back? Or the things you accused me of? It’s too much.’ You smile at the woman and take the photo and walk to the lifts and press the button. Dary looks hurt by your words ‘I didn’t fuck anybody, she came onto me and I pushed her away. It was you that believed what people said, you didn’t even ask. And I’ve already apologised for what I said when you first told me…I know I was in the wrong. What else do ya want from me?’ You get into the lift, thankful that it’s just the two of you and you’re not sharing with anyone else. ‘All I want Daryl is to be happy. I want to be happy and healthy and I want our baby to be the same. I loved you, and what you did hurt me..It’s just gonna take some time for me to forgive that.’ Daryl reaches over and presses the emergency stop button. ‘What are you doing?’ Daryl comes towards you and looks into your eyes he kisses you gently on your mouth and runs his hands down your back, gently cupping your butt. He pulls away ‘I love ya and if time is what it’s gonna take to make you love me again, then that’s fine. But I ain’t going anywhere, not now, not ever. I want to look after you and our lil girl.’ You smile at him and for the first time in months you feel your chest lighten ‘C’mere Dixon.’ You pull him towards you and kiss him once more.

what if Taylor just shows up at the grammy’s and is like “so the new album is comin out this summer”
I WOULD JUST
JUMP OUT MY BEDROOM WINDOW AND GO SCREAMING DOWN THE STREETS WITH TEARS STREAMIN DOWN MY FACE