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#I'm very very very happy and i went in very afraid so
enixamyram · 3 days
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Basically I saw people arguing whether or not Charlie would accept any of the Vees (especially Valentino) into the hotel. And it gave me ideas that I know I'm never gonna write so I'll just share it instead! XD
Random Story Idea I Got Based On Seeing Others Discuss:
What If The Vees Checked Into The Hazbin Hotel
Since the big fight with the angels, it has been proven once and for all that demons can be redeemed via Sir Pentious visiting with Emily to confirm Charlie's dream for her. The Hotel's all happy and celebrating but not everyone in hell is.
The Vees as some such people because if Charlie starts redeeming sinners then that will be less souls they can get contracts with. But they have no way to stop them since Sir Pentious and Emily made a pretty grand display and if they fight too hard then it could backfire on them. So, they come up with their plan. They decide to pretend they also want to be redeemed. All three of them ask to join the hotel with the secret purpose of spying on them and sabotaging it from the inside out.
Charlie knows they are full of shit. Everyone knows it. But if Charlie refuses them without any proof, it would cost the hotel since Charlie's whole point is that everyone and anyone should get the chance if they ask for it. In the end, she knows that if they say no, they would essentially be sabotaging the hotel's good reputation and lose other sinners who genuinely want to redeem but are too afraid to come forward for fear of being judged for past sins.
So, Charlie is forced to say yes and let them in. But then immediately gets Vaggie, Husk and Alastor to work spying on the Vees spying on them. The goal is to catch them breaking any of the main hotels rules so that Charlie has a legit reason to kick them out.
On the very first night, Val tries to go to Angel's room since he avoided him all day only to find Nifty dutifully cleaning the hallway just outside. It turns out Charlie assigned her the job of keeping the Vees (specifically Val) from distubring other guests (specifically Angel). Cue some humor as Val is freaked out by Nifty because, well, it's Nifty and she tore a chunk out of him and then went on to kill the first man.
So, Husk is trying to get dirt on Val and the two have confrontations about Angel - which leads to Huskerdust! Alastor is riling up Vox to get him to do something stupid and the two just repeatedly try to one up each other and get on each others nerves. And Vaggie is assigned Velvette who isn't giving anything away and even mocks the fact that she knows Vaggie is spying on her (like taking a selfie with Vaggie obviously hiding in the background and tagging her in posts on her socials).
There'd be a bit of humor but also some dramatic angst with the Vees using the spying/riling/confrontations to show the Hotel is picking on them and whatever other techniques they can to turn people against the Hotel.
So yeah. That's my rambles of an idea!
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went to my first con in 4 years on Friday to meet Kaiji Tang and got a Dazai autograph + video recording of him reading to me. He was the sweetest person (as I knew he would be) and interacting with him was lovely, but also at the same time oh boy it sure was an extremely stressful, ugly wake-up call of what it feels like to live in a world now where everyone around you has blissfully moved on from covid and can enjoy things normally and happily, while you'll forever be trapped in a hellscape of perpetual fear 🫠🫠🫠
#like. to be clear this was the first time i've been literally anywhere but doctor's appointments in 4 years#not just because of the pandemic but because of mental and physical exhaustion#so it was a Big Mistake to go from 0 to 100 and not ease myself into it at all#but at the same time........ it was a fucking hellscape of people. i don't think any kind of buildup could have prepared me for it at all.#it was so much less crowded in 2020 (ironically the very last place i ever went; literally on the BRINK of covid)#and now idk what it's become. a monster con. it was unbelievable.#but i was only there for less than an hour but i was so so so terrified that i very nearly left before even seeing him#i couldn't even fully enjoy meeting him as kind as he was because i was so anxious and distracted#and when i got back to the car i just fucking cried.........#the last five days i've just been sitting in fear waiting to feel Any sort of symptoms#i wore two masks and again was barely there for long but Still#and everyone around me was so chill as if everything was normal and No One was wearing a mask :))))) it's not fucking fair man :)))))#insert the 'they don't know' meme; they don't know how much covid can destroy your body even if you get a 'mild' case#i would never want to be that ignorant even if i wasn't disabled and didn't have reason to worry (but everyone has reason to worry!!!)#but also. ignorance is bliss and it just really fucking sucks man.#it really fucking sucks. why do they get to be happy and enjoying life and not /me?/#why can't i do just ONE thing for myself without having it tainted by anxiety and fear that i'm going to die horribly???#while they get to do fucking EVERYTHING???#if they all just wore masks we could all enjoy ourselves much more comfortably than some of us are now#but no that's too much to ask from people 🙃🙃🙃#shit sucks man. the world sucks. something that should be a happy memory for me was simultaneously the most awful experience#and i don't know how to feel about it now that it's over#he knew that i was afraid and at the end he told me that he hoped to see me again at another event someday#and that made me cry because it felt like dazai telling me to live. and i want to. but i don't know how to when the world is like this now.#i desperately want to be able to see him again someday but right now after how terrifying that was i never want to go to a con ever again..#i wanted to ask him things about the manga and about dazai but i was being rushed and stressed so i couldn't ugh#(and doing that is hard enough anyway cause disability and i have to talk with my phone bahhhh)#at least i was able to give him my note *sigh*
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bettyfrommars · 2 months
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Whole Lotta Love
Eddie x fem!Reader
18+MDNI, oral (f!receiving), fingering, unprotected piv, creampie, pet names like baby and sweetheart, both Eddie and reader are over 20.
I received a request for a fic where, no matter how hard he tries, Eddie can't make you cum, and I was happy to do it because it's a much more common situation than how it's represented in most media. I'm not sure this is exactly what they were looking for, but it was a very fun thing to write. This Eddie had me giggling.
a/n: I wasn't sure I would finish this wip after I wrote the first two lines, but then I was in the mood yesterday and smashed it out. It was a very quick write, definitely not my opus, but a true joy, all the same. I hope you like.
wc: 3.1k
Eddie flopped onto his back, huffing out a satisfied breath. “That was so good,” he hummed. 
The fingers of one hand drew a lazy circle on his bare chest as it rose and fell, while his other hand scrambled over to capture yours.  
Shifting his gaze, he caught you staring at the ceiling, unblinking.  “Was that…did you…?”
“Um,” you paused.  It wasn’t that you were afraid to be truthful with him, but the fact that orgasms weren’t flying out of you at the same rate made you feel inadequate, like maybe you were the problem. 
He propped up on his forearm, searching your face, brow creased with concern.  “Did I hurt you or…?”
“No, no,” you rolled over, pulling the sheet up over your hips.  “It felt great.”
At that, he gave an actual sigh of relief.
“But, I didn’t cum.  Or at least, I don’t think I did.”
“You’re not sure?” 
You chewed at your top lip.  “No, I am sure.  I didn’t.”
He traced a few hearts on your shoulder with the tip of his calloused finger.  “Have you ever? With me?”
Your silence spoke volumes, and Eddie’s mind raced to all of the times you’d been intimate in the past few weeks since you’d been together.  He blamed himself for being too eager and sloppy, and shit—he was so crazy about you, it made him dizzy.  He couldn’t believe you let him touch you, let alone cum inside.  
His head snapped up.  “But what about that time I went down on you in the closet at Robin’s party? I swear I felt you—”
“I was close that time,” you admitted, remembering how your legs shook and that heat began to build, in the same way it did when you pleasured yourself.  “But then Gareth was shouting, looking for you and it went away.”
“Fucking Gareth,” he mumbled. “You were close then, okay.  Can I try that again? Now?”
He was already moving down the bed, palming the crook of your knee to slide your leg open.
You put your hand on his head, glancing over at the digital alarm clock.  “Not now, silly, I have to get ready for work.”
You wrapped the sheet around you and got to your feet, leaving Eddie to stare into space, alone with his tortured thoughts.  “Come over tonight?” He yelled while you were in the bathroom. “Wayne leaves for work at 6, we’ll have the place to ourselves.”
“I’ll come over,” you said with your mouth around a toothbrush.  You spat into the sink and then, “But I might be too tired for…other stuff,” your words were met with nothing but silence from the next room.  “We can watch a movie or something?”
Eddie appeared sullen in the doorway next to you in his checkered blue and white boxers. “Do you not want to have sex with me anymore?”
“No, baby I do!” You assured him, eyebrows high on your forehead.  You cupped some water into your mouth and spat it out while he ran his knuckle down your arm. “I really really want to, I just don’t want us to force this.  It’s okay if I don’t have an orgasm every single time.”
“Yeah but it’s not okay with me,” he muttered. 
You turned and planted kisses down his throat, dotting smooches along his collarbone, and then the final peck was on his pouty mouth. You rubbed the tip of your nose against his, “I’ll see you tonight.  I love you.”
—------
You parked on the other side of Eddie's van at the trailer that night and assessed the windows curiously.  At a glance, it looked like the living room had caught fire from the amount of candles that were lit. The song Whole Lotta Love by Led Zeppelin poured out into the soft yellow light of the porch, and you knocked.  
A few raps of your knuckles were met with a loud curse and something like a metal pot crashed to the floor in the kitchen.  No one came to the door, so you entered with caution, and your senses were greeted with the smell of something burning in the oven.
Eddie was by the sink and he spun around with a startled look, wiping his hands down his jeans. He wore a Slayer shirt with the sleeves ripped off, and his feet were bare, letting you see the black toe nail polish you’d delicately painted on a few days earlier.  
“What’s with all this?” You blinked a few times, marveling at how tidy it was.  But also, there were at least 15 mismatched candles ablaze on the side table, the top of the tv, and the counter. 
He wiped his mouth and went over to greet you.   “I just wanted to set the mood,” he grinned, grabbing onto your hips to pull you close. “I read somewhere that the atmosphere can help with, you know.”
“You read somewhere?”
“Just one of those magazines at the grocery checkout.”
“I missed you,” he smiled against your mouth as you said it.  His warm skin smelled spicy and sweet, like he’d recently showered and put on cologne. The yearning you felt for him was all-consuming.  A few hours apart weighed on you like an eternity.  You tilted your head to deepen the kiss, and already your loins were giving you the nod like, “yep, we need to have him inside of us.”  You absolutely craved him on a sexual level, so why was it so hard to find your climax?  It seemed to come easy for everyone else in the world: everybody at the party was cumming but you.  
Eddie was nervous.  He hadn’t felt that out of his mind since the day he confessed he had feelings for you, but if you didn’t feel the same that would be cool, because he didn’t want to fuck up the friendship: you were too precious to him.  Your presence in his life made him feel sane and loved and seen in a way he’d rarely experienced in his life, if ever.  A miracle happened that day, and you’d flown into his arms, asking him what took him so long.
But what kind of boyfriend would he be if he couldn’t please you? In every way?
You watched a sitcom while you ate dinner on TV trays, and when you came back from using the restroom, he had everything put away, dishes thrown in the sink, and he was sitting very propper at the end of the couch, watching you expectantly.  
“Are you, um,” he cleared his throat.  “How are you feeling?”
This was weird, he thought. He was making it weird.  He needed to loosen up and not be so hyper focused on his mission.  Maybe you were tired, maybe you needed to let your spaghetti and burnt french bread settle.  
You straddled his lap, brushing hair away so that you could kiss his forehead. 
“I think I’m ready to try again,” you whispered, and then you ducked down to nibble his earlobe.  “Unless you’d rather stay here and—”
Before you could finish the thought, he was up and the two of you were moving out of the room and down the hall, kissing and fumbling with clothes as you went.  
“I’ve been thinking about this all day,” he nipped your jaw and side of your neck, banging the bedroom door open with the side of his fist. “I hate being away from you.”
There were a few candles around the bed too; on his nightstand, and a red one dripped wax from the window sill down the wall.  
You stopped abruptly, staring at the bed.  “Are those…rose petals?” 
“Tulips, actually,” he rushed to the scene and swiped the soft pink curls away with his arm. “That was stupid, I just thought it would be—”
You caught his mouth with yours, tongues lashing at each other in such an erotic way that a small moan escaped him. 
He wondered if that night would be the night he came in his jeans.
He wasn’t going to let himself cum before you, that was the plan.  He’d jerked off shortly before you’d arrived, but that didn’t mean shit because he was absolutely ready again.  
Suck it up, Munson.
All was off but for your underwear and while Eddie licked greedily at one of your nipples, you reached down to undo his button fly.  “Release the beast,” you cooed.  
He caught your wrist.  “Not just yet, I can’t, I mean, I want this to be about you.”
“I need an even playing field if I’m going to be relaxed enough to…you know.”
He couldn’t get his pants off fast enough at the urging of your hand that was quick to breach the waistband of his boxers to stroke him. He was rock hard and the tip was already weeping, needy for you.  
“Is this all for me?” You ran your thumb in circles over the tip.
Eddie tensed and huffed out a breath that fanned the hair away from his face.  “Fuck, baby, every inch.”
If he wasn’t sharp, he’d cum right there on the spot.
You bounced when your body hit the bed, and Eddie dropped to his knees between your legs.  The visible wetness on your panties were taking a toll on his already fragile state.  He wasn’t patient enough to take them off of you, he just put his mouth right on the material, nuzzling at your pussy through the fabric in a way that pulled a few sharp gasps out of you.  
“I missed her so much,” he pulled back the final barrier with one finger, licking a few times on your swollen lips, and then cursed.  “You’re so wet already.”
“Well, that’s what you do to me,” you propped up on your elbows to look down at him, sucking in your bottom lip at the sensation of his breath on you.
He slid your underwear off the rest of the way, trying to recall what he’d read in that Playboy article he read a while back? Something about writing out the alphabet, and the woman you are with won’t make it to “x” without cumming.
“How does this feel?” His tongue rolled along your folds in a way that made you wonder what he was doing.  He lost track of the letters at around “M”, hips bucking into the side of the bed, cock pulsing so hard, he had to reach down and take some of the pressure off.  
“G-good,” you gasped.  “Just like that but then, up a bit higher.”
You weren’t exactly an expert when it came to your own pleasure, either, you only knew what felt good when you touched yourself.  If Eddie made you cum, it would be the first time you ever experienced that with another person.  You wondered if you should tell him that.  
He followed your instructions, swallowing while he consumed you, until he found the tiny pearl treasure at the top and your grip tightened on him.
“Hmm I think I found it. Hey there pretty baby,” he murmured into your cunt rolling his tongue around the spot. 
“Yesyesyes, right thereeeee Eddieeee.”
The pressure and the speed was perfect and your hand went to his head for encouragement, but then he slowed down and moved locations, licking up the arousal that dripped down  your slit.
“Baby? Could you go back to that thing you were doing a second ago?”
He compiled without a word, trying to find the same pacing again, but the moment was gone. 
“Eddie—” you spread your legs wider as an invitation. “I really need you inside of me now.”
Well, he wanted that more than anything.  But one pump and it would be all over for his dignity.  His eyes were rolling back, seeing cartoon stars just thinking about it.  
Truth? He wasn’t going to make it.  
You noticed his hesitation.  “We can keep trying…after.  But I need to feel you.  It’s lonely up here.”
“You’re so beautiful it hurts,” he crawled up onto the bed, kissing along your stomach, up between your breasts as he went, and then nuzzled at your neck.  “My dick can wait until—”
But he choked on his last words when you took hold of him and rubbed the tip of his length along your wetness.
“Sssshittt,” his whole body trembled. 
Sliding himself in, becoming one with you, made him emotional in a way he’d be embarrassed to share with anyone else. 
“I love you so much,” your voice came out as a cry when he sank halfway in, locking eyes with you.  The stretch made you squeeze around him, eliciting a whimper from so far back in his throat that he wondered if it came from somewhere else, some far off place. 
Once he started to move, he thought about that sweet little pearl and lifted up enough to put his thumb there and move it around.  Your head went back and  you exposed your throat to him.
Eddie grimaced at how close he was, fuck that—he had to slow down.  The way he was touching you, it was making you stiffen like you had when he was on his knees, and he was taking note of everything.
But then you started telling him how bad you needed him to cum, to fill you up, to make you his.  He tried to hold out but then his eyes locked onto yours when you told him you loved him again and he couldn’t stop the wave once it started, no matter how hard he clenched his jaw and his buttcheeks.
One long babble came out of him as his thrusts got sloppy.  “Oh fuck I love you so much I’m cumming so hard, I’m…I’m…holy shit I love you.”
He didn’t ask if you had come that time, because he knew better.
After he caught his breath, he pulled you with him, twisting onto his side, slipping two fingers where his cock had been.  “What if I push all of this cum back inside so it will stay there? Hmm?”
You moaned against his mouth, grabbing a fistful of his hair.  “That feels good, keep doing that.”
“You like that?” He asked, just to be certain.
You nodded, and then, your hand slotted down between your bodies and his arousal spiked when he realized you were touching yourself.  
He curled his fingers to feel that soft, spongy spot, asking how fast you wanted it.
You couldn’t speak, your concentration was intense, eyes screwed shut. 
Oh sure, he was getting hard again.  The feel of his warm spend in your tight hole was doing nothing for his resolve.  
You clenched around him, and then he was whispering, “let me try again,” as he kept his digits buried and made his way down between your thighs.
His mouth had no trouble finding the treasure that time; it practically peeked up at him, begging for a resolution.  He relaxed his shoulders, breathed in the musk of your arousal, and took you into his mouth with a vibrating groan.
“Right there!” You hadn’t meant to scream it, but it was an actual eureka moment.  “Oh fuck Eddie, don’t stop…keep doing…keep doing that.”
He hadn’t moved his fingers in a while, but when he tried to incorporate that into the mix, you stopped him.  “Keep them still,” you held his head, locking him in place—not that there was anywhere else he wanted to be.  “Don’t move your hand just…Ahh yes yes…”
Your jaw went slack in a silent scream, but then his pace quickened, and before you knew what was happening, the blinding white wave crashed through you, rolling through your limbs like satin electricity, making you whine an extended, “cummingcummingcumming,” while you clung to his hair so you wouldn’t fall off the earth. 
Eddie was astonished to learn that could feel it happening.  The juicy walls around his fingers spasmed, fluttering like tight ripples, and he drove his tongue in eager circles, wondering if he could make you cum twice in one go.  Was that even possible? His heart all but flew out of his chest, it was beating so fast, and he moaned long and hard.
But after a bit, you were trying to push his mouth away.  “Wait wait, now it’s sensitive,” but he was so determined, he didn’t pull off until you physically lifted his head.  
He stared up at you, licking his wet, swollen lips.  
You were breathless, letting the final bits of glitter swim through your veins.  “That was—”
He kissed your cunt one two three times.  “That was what?”
He was grinning now, feeling like he’d just won the lottery, or at least a new car. The sense of satisfaction was officially unmatched.
He made his way up the bed to hold you, but you surprised him by taking his fingers into your mouth to suck them clean, dragging teeth along his flesh.  
“I’ve never cum that way with anyone else before,” you said in a whisper, but when he finally registered the weight of the words, his eyes widened.
“My sweetheart,” he pulled you flush against him, giddy, holding your face to brush his lips over yours. “I’m really your first?”
You gave his shoulder a teasing love bite. “And my last.”
“Oh nowww you’re in trouble,” he rolled on top of you, interlacing his fingers with yours to brace your hands above your head, and then he went to work munching at the side of your throat, growling as he did so.  
You screamed and giggled, realizing he was hard again as it nudged at your hip. “I see you’re ready for battle again.”
“I was born ready, baby,” he straightened to see your face. “You want to try a new position? I was reading this—”
The front door to the trailer burst open.
“What the hell? Edward? You tryin’ to burn the place down?”
It was Wayne.
Shit shit shit shit it was Wayne!
Home hours early from work, for whatever reason.
The door to the bedroom was wide open and his heavy footfalls were rapidly approaching from the hall.
Eddie threw the sheet up over you, and a few tulip petals fluttered to your face.  “I’ll be right there!” He shouted, trying to jump into his jeans. He missed a leg hole and stumbled back onto the mattress, making you snort out a laugh. 
He got to the door just in time to greet his Uncle, blocking any view of the room, buttoning his pants as he stood there.  
You could hear Wayne’s voice change. “Is, ah, is your girlfriend here? Sorry, I didn’t see her car.”
“No that’s cool, we were just—” and then he maneuvered him out into the hall, shutting the door behind him.
You lifted up to listen to their murmuring voices, and then Wayne asked, “why is there wax all over the carpet? Blow these fuckers out before the curtains catch fire.”
You had to bury your face in the pillow to muffle your laughter.  
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ilovechuuyasm · 2 months
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I'm delusional, so I came up with a beautiful scenario with Alastor in which he loves the reader 😭
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It's a situation where you've known him while you were still alive and you both were dating, but he died lmao.
Well, after a while, you died too, and since his death, you haven't been able to love anyone else. You went to hell after death and heard about some Hazbin Hotel on the news. Normally, you would ignore it completely, but your attention was caught by a host who looked remarkably like your beloved one from Earth, but more demonically, and what caught your attention even more was that he had the same name.
You went to the hotel because apparently everyone was welcome there, but when you got there he wasn't there because he had something to do. Everyone was shocked that you were looking for him and that's how you found out what he was famous for in hell. This only confirmed your suspicions that you had found your loved one after death, not many people could do such a fucked up thing, and you knew Alastor well, you just hoped he would recognize you too.
Finally, Alastor returned to the Hotel, before anyone could tell him about your arrival, when you saw him, you couldn't help but hug him out of nowhere. Bro was shocked. Before he even realized who you were, he pushed you away from him in one move. You saw a huge smile on his face, but he looked annoyed.
"Huuh, who might you be-?" He started talking and looked at you "Y/N..?" he asked quietly, in disbelief. When you nodded he hugged you again. "You died?" he asked.
"Umm, yeah?" You chuckled "And you killed a large part of the rulers of hell?"
While you were asking each other questions, wanting to immediately learn as much as possible about each other, everyone in the hotel was even more shocked, seeing Alastor hug a random person and being so nice to them.
"You look impressive as a radio demon" you said, judging his appearance and you touched his ear "And you have such adorable fluffy deer ears!" He still had that wide smile on his face, but you knew you were embarrassing him. A quiet "aww" could be heard coming from Charlie in the background.
"HA! I think we have a lot to talk about, darling!" Alastor said to you "In a more private place..." His eyelid twitched slightly, but you weren't afraid of him lmao, so you hugged his hand gently and you went to the room he called his own.
"Well, darling, what brought you to this hotel?" He asked, when you were admiring his half-forest room "Are you looking for redemption?"
"Uh, not actually, I just wanted to make sure it was you who.. was in the advertisement. What are you doing here anyway? Don't you think this idea is quite... ridiculous?" you chuckled.
"That's exactly what I think! But I have my reasons for being here, you'll understand everything soon, darling HaHa!" he looked at you, still smiling "And watching these people seek redemption is very entertaining" he tilted his head slightly.
"Yeah.." you randomly petted his hair, touching his ears, because for some reason you were so fascinated about them and you noticed Alastor squinting gently. (Sorry, I love the headcanon that his ears are sensitive and he reacts like a pet being scratched behind the ears) "Okay! Why don't you introduce me to your... friends?" you asked.
The hotel members were shocked again when Alastor told them that you were his partner, but Charlie was very happy that another person would stay at the hotel.
And this is something like the second part (self-advertisement):
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biggaybunny · 6 months
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The inherent conflict of being alive is that your cells just love water. Great stuff for cells. Excellent for transporting things around in, really helps counteract gravity and make that 3rd dimension fully accessible. You as an organism however, want atmosphere. It's got all those awesome gases, like oxygen. Those gases are great! But they're not very good at getting in the water. Lots more of them outside the water.
Now some organisms went ahead and said "well, our cells want to be in the water, we're made of cells, we're staying in the water". And I respect that! Gotta respect that. Lots of 'em stick to the surface, get a little bit of the good gases, but keep themselves nice and watered up (wet) to keep their cells happy. Some make do with whatever cool gases have managed to dissolve into the water, thanks to a process known as "churning that shit up" that happens on the water's surface. Doesn't work out great for them, but you know, they made their decision and they committed to it. You gotta respect that.
Now some organisms, especially a lot of old ones, were afraid of commitment. They hung out at the water's edge, breathing all the gases and shit, but still needed to make sure they could stay wet. Like, their plan was to leave the water, but stay wet. Not a great move, if you ask me. Usually it works, but only until it doesn't. You ever seen dried up moss? Ask it how it's "stay wet but not in water" plan went. It can't answer you. It fucked up. That's what you get for not committing.
Now trees though, trees had the other idea. Trees and some other plants were like, no problem. I'm gonna take my water with me and never ever let it go. They developed specialized cells and shit. They got whole layers dedicated to keeping the water the fuck in. They got other cells dedicated to hunting down any water in a square fuckometer and taking it for themselves. That's hustle. That's a game plan. Some plants got so good at it they saw these dry-ass stretches of land that saw rain less often than you saw your mother smile as a child and were like "okay but is the amount of water not literally zero? Yeah? We're good."
The moving orgisms tried to copy trees, naturally. Making hard outer layers to trap the water in for their cells. But it was pretty weak. They kept going on about needing holes for the moisture to leave, and wet surfaces for their eyeballs. Then some of us got stupid and decided maybe we only needed like a half-decent layer protecting our water. "Semi-permeable" they marketed it as. Oh it's fine they said. We'll live somewhere wet, they said. Yeah how'd that work out for that moss again.
And now I get a headache if I go like 3 hours without drinking a glass of water. I should've been a pine tree.
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neil-gaiman · 7 months
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Going to preface this with a trigger warning for spiders.
So I have been absolutely terrified of spiders my whole life. Like, can't even look at where one once was without getting immediately anxious and feeling ill. Because of complicated reasons I'll not get into, I currently sleep in a shed in my parents garden. Have done for 5 years. As I'm sure you can imagine, I get a lot of spiders in there. But somehow my broken brain has figured, because Crowley would probably tease me for being afraid of them that they're silly to be afraid of. And so, I'm happy to announce that after 30 years of life on planet Earth, I just removed a spider the size of my hand (alive) from about 6 inches above where I lay my head to sleep, to the outdoors, without a care in the world. So I guess in a very weird way, thank you.
P. S. Aren't brains marvellous things?
They are. My small son is not scared at all of spiders. I have low-key arachnophobia. When we were last in Florida we went behind the scenes at Gatorland and Ash, delighted, got to have a tarantula walk on his hands. And then, politely, they asked me if I would like to hold the tarantula too. And I realised I couldn’t say no to something my seven year old son had just done. So I said yes. And enjoyed it. Brains are wonderful.
I do worry about you sleeping in the shed, though.
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maggie-atwood · 2 months
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Last Night on Earth
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Summary: During your time with the Atlanta Camp, you form an unlikely friendship with the younger Dixon brother. When the group finds their way to the CDC, you feel safe enough to push past the lines of just friends.
Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader
Era: Quarry/CDC (TWD S1 E4-6)
Word Count: 11k
Warnings: typical TWD violence, character death, guns, alcohol use, explicit language, sexual content (don't know if I would call it smut but it's in there!)
A/N: this is my first ever fic, and it definitely ended up being longer than anticipated, but I'm pretty happy with it! I am open to feedback, just please be nice about it i am so anxious to be posting this on the internet
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Everyone sits, laughing and eating around the fire. Amy and Andrea had caught a whole bunch of fish today, and the group was feasting for the first time in a while. Dale even cracked open a few beers for the adults of the group. You had gladly taken one, determined to have a good time tonight, determined to ignore the twinge of fear in your gut. You didn’t want to ruin the fun of the evening. Everyone was happy.
Well, you think to yourself. Not everyone.
A group had gone into Atlanta today, Daryl among them. He wanted to go because the new guy - Rick, Lori’s husband (which could’ve fooled you, with the way she has been acting around Shane) - had handcuffed his brother Merle to a roof and they went back to find him. You know that Daryl can handle himself - he was pretty much made for the apocalypse - but you can’t help but worry about him.
You and Daryl are unlikely friends, you know that. Before the world fell to shit, you were down in Florida, visiting friends from college. When the news broadcasts started becoming concerning, you had decided to cut your trip short and start driving back north, trying to get home to your family. But you had gotten caught in the traffic outside of Atlanta, with everyone trying to get in. You ended up stopped not far from Lori, Shane, and Carl and quickly became acquainted with them, as well as Carol and her family. You had watched the bombs get dropped on Atlanta with Lori and Shane, and since then, you were adopted into their group. It took a bit of convincing on Shane’s part - Lori had fought him very loudly about not wanting to leave you behind, since you were traveling alone - but one look at Carl clinging to your neck sealed the deal for him, and you’ve been with them ever since.
From there, your little group, including Carol and her husband and daughter, met Dale, Andrea, and Amy, and set up a small campsite not far outside of the city limits. A few days later, the Dixon brothers stumbled upon your camp. Most people were afraid of them; Merle and Daryl did not initially look like the friendly type, but their ability to hunt and provide food for the group was enough for everybody else to begin to tolerate them. 
But you did more than tolerate them. You actually began to form a bit of a friendship with the younger brother, Daryl. Merle was an ass, spitting nasty comments at everybody for any given reason, but Daryl was different. While he followed his brother almost everywhere, he was also more reserved and, once you got to know him, exceptionally kind. 
It started small, with him making sure that you had enough to eat whenever they brought back game from their hunting trips. But then it blossomed into him finding reasons to be around you; he started walking with you when you needed to go to the lake for water or to wash clothes or yourself. Eventually, it led to him inviting you to go hunting with him when Merle was still sleeping or too fucked up to go with him. You didn’t know anything about hunting, but he brought you along anyway, teaching you how to walk quietly through the woods, as to not scare any animals off, and even how to set up a few basic snares and traps. After a few trips, he gave you one of his hunting knives, showing you how to use it both for hunting and for fighting off walkers.
You later realized that Daryl actually seemed to like your company. And you were surprised to discover how much you liked his too. A deep gnawing feeling inside of you reminded you that you were as much of an outsider to the group as the Dixons were: Lori had her family, especially once Rick came back from the dead; Carol had her family, as shitty as her husband was; Andrea and Amy had each other, and Dale had them; the Morales all had each other too. So you had the Dixons, even Merle and his ridiculousness. 
You started spending more time with them. You ate your meals with them around their smaller campfire, as they were rarely invited to sit with the rest of the group. You even moved out of Dale’s RV and started sleeping in their tent, much to Merle’s chagrin. With that in mind, Daryl also insisted on you sleeping behind him, probably so that he could keep an eye on his brother. Eventually Merle began to lighten up about you being around, nicknaming you “dollface,” which was a huge upgrade from “slut,” “whore,” or “that nice piece of ass.”
So when Glenn, Andrea, Jacqui, T-Dog, and Morales came back from Atlanta with Rick instead of Merle, you were able to anticipate Daryl’s meltdown. Unfortunately, the men had found Daryl first, and an altercation occurred. When Daryl stalked off into the woods, you knew he needed space, but you followed him anyway.
“I have to go get him,” he kept saying, pacing back and forth. “I have to.”
“I know,” you had reassured him. “You will.” 
But that was hours ago, and they still weren’t back. So as much as you wanted to enjoy the fish-fry with everyone else, you worried about your friend. When the plates of food were passed around, you took extra and hid it on another plate, making sure to save some for the Dixons when they came back.
Because they will come back, you kept telling yourself. Struggling to eat with your stomach in knots, you keep to slowly sipping your beer and trying to focus on the conversation around the fire.
“We’re out of toilet paper?” Amy calls from the Rv. You laugh with the rest of the group, paying little mind to her until you hear the screaming. All of your heads snap to the young blonde, and the walker taking a bite out of her arm. 
The camp quickly erupts into chaos as walkers appear from every direction. Lori and Carol grab their kids and run for cover while the men get their weapons out. You unsheathe the hunting knife that Daryl had given you, sending up a grateful prayer to him, wherever he was. You run forward to stab the nearest walker in the head with your knife, making sure to hit the brain, just like Daryl had shown you. You yank it back out and jump backwards as a second walker lunges for you.
The air is full of gunfire as Shane unloads round after round into the oncoming walkers. All around you, people are screaming. You see multiple members of the group getting taken down by walkers, and you run away, knowing it's too late for them.
Daryl, you think into the universe, where are you?
A cold hand grabs your arm, and you turn to find a walker latched on to you. You scream, but no one’s around to help - everyone is fighting their own battles. You’re on your own. You raise your foot and kick the walker in the stomach with enough force that it has to let go of you, then you quickly ram your knife into its head before it can try again. It falls to your feet, taking your knife with it. You try to pull it out but it’s caught. You hear the groan of another walker stumbling towards you, so you try even harder to get the knife out but it won’t budge. The walker gets closer, and you’re about to give up on the knife when the walker's head explodes, blood splattering your face. 
Frozen in fear, you don’t register the face in front of yours until it yells at you.
“C’mon!” Daryl yells, looping an arm under yours and pulling you up. His strength is enough to help you pull the knife out of the dead walker’s skull, and he nearly drags you towards the RV. He shoots two more walkers along the way before the two of you are surrounded. He lets go of you, using the butt of his gun to smash in the heads of a few walkers. One goes for his back but you catch it just in time, driving your knife into its skull just before it can bite him. You stumble but Daryl catches you, pulling you the rest of the way to safety. 
When you get to the RV, Daryl pushes you behind him, putting himself between you and any other potential threats. After scanning the scene and seeing that it’s clear, he turns back to you.
“You alright?” he asks, grabbing your face. “You good?”
You nod the best you can, still recovering from the shock of it all. “Ye-yeah,” you manage to stutter out. “I’m okay.”
“Good,” he grunts out, still holding you. You place your hand over his, still cupping your face, close your eyes and take deep breaths, happy that the two of you are alive, despite the carnage that surrounds you.
You spend most of the next day helping the group dispose of the bodies, both walkers and fellow group members. Daryl uses a pickaxe to hit them in the brain so that the bodies can be burned. You follow him around, using the hunting knife to gently prevent your former friends from turning into walkers themselves.
When Daryl gets into an argument with Glenn about what to do with their bodies, you can’t help but agree with Glenn. 
“These were our friends,” you say to Daryl, when he was huffing and puffing about it afterwards.
“Not mah friends,” he spits out. “Not yers, neither.” This stings, so you look away, not wanting him to see the tears pricking your eyes. But of course, he does anyway. “‘m sorry,” he mutters, not meeting your eyes. “That was mean.”
“It’s okay,” you say, sniffling. “You’re not wrong.” Then you glare at him. “But they were still people. Our people.” He looks up at you. “So we bury them, okay?”
“Fine,” he mutters. He may not agree with you, but he works with you anyway, helping to move the bodies to the graves that Jim had ominously dug the day before.
When Jim is discovered to have been bitten, Daryl immediately moves in front of you, using his body as a shield to keep you safe. He pushes you back before moving in to lift Jim’s shirt and reveal the bite to the group. You slowly move to where Lori and Carol stand with the kids, ready to grab one of them and run if it comes down to it. Thankfully, it doesn’t.
The group discusses where to go and what to do. You hang back with Sophia and Carl, knowing that you don’t have much to add to the conversation since you’re not from around here. But when Daryl runs at Jim with the pickaxe and Rick puts a gun to his head, you quickly jump in between them. 
“Hey!” you yell, startling both of the men. You stare Rick down, his gun pointed between your eyebrows. Daryl lowers the pickaxe and wraps an arm around you but you plant your feet and refuse to move. 
“We don’t kill the living,” Rick says through gritted teeth.
“That’s funny coming from a man who just put a gun to our heads,” Daryl snarls. You smack him in the side.
“We may disagree on some things, not on this,” Shane drawls in agreement with Rick. “You put it down,” he orders Daryl. “Go on.” Daryl slams the pickaxe on the ground and stalks off, taking you with him. 
The two of you return to his tent. 
“Pack up yer things,” he murmurs, still glaring at Rick and Shane. “I feel like we’re gonna be moving soon.”
“Okay,” you say. “Don’t do anything stupid.” 
The left side of his mouth lifts into a small smirk. “Never,” he says before turning his back and returning to cleaning up the campsite.
After you pack up your few belongings, plus Daryl and Merle’s stuff, you pop back out of the tent to see Daryl handing the pickaxe to Carol. She then drives it into her dead husband’s skull time after time.
Good for her, you think to yourself, smiling. He sucked anyway. 
Not long after, the group convenes up by the graves. You stand next to Daryl as everyone watches Andrea and Dale lower Amy’s body into her final resting place. Andrea is clearly struggling, and you feel for her - of everyone in the group, Amy was one of your favorites, always so positive despite the dire circumstances you all lived in every day. A tear runs down your cheek, surprising you. You quickly wipe it away, hoping no one noticed, but Daryl always does. He takes your hand and gives it a quick squeeze. You squeeze his hand back, before he pulls it away, a blush creeping up his neck. He disappears as soon as the group disperses.
You walk back from the graves with Carol and her daughter. Carol is also one of your favorite people in camp. You saw how her husband mistreated her and always felt the urge to step in and protect her. You wrap an arm around her, and she drops her head onto your shoulder. The two of you walk this way until you get back to camp. Carol gives you a small smile before heading to her destroyed tent with Sophia to pack up their belongings. Your heart breaks for her too, but not as much.
Shane calls for a group meeting. You take a seat in one of the plastic folding chairs around the fire. Daryl appears behind you, resting his hands on the back of your chair. You instantly feel safer with him there.
“I’ve been thinking about Rick’s plan,” Shane says to the group. “Now look, there are no guarantees either way. I’ll be the first one to admit that. But I’ve known this man a long time. I trust his instincts. I say the most important thing here is we need to stay together.” He looks around the group as he talks. “So those of you that agree, we leave first thing in the morning. Okay?”
Most of the group nods in agreement. You just sit there and listen, taking in the information as well as the events of last night.
When everyone heads towards their own tents, Daryl falls into step with you.
“So what do ya think?” he asks you. “You wanna go with ‘em?”
You just shrug. “I got nowhere else to go,” you say simply. “You?”
Daryl looks at the ground, suddenly incredibly interested with the tip of his boots. “I go wherever you go,” he mutters.
You can’t help but smile. “Then I guess we’re going,” you say, unzipping the tent. You crawl inside. Daryl looks around a few times, before following you in as well.
The next morning, you wake up to a heavy weight on your stomach. You crack up an eye to find Daryl’s arm draped over you. For once, you didn’t have to sleep squeezed between him and the edge of the tent, with his body acting as a barrier between you and Merle, so you got to sleep on the inside. Apparently in his sleep, Daryl curled into you, wrapping his arm around you. You smiled, unable to help feeling safe this way. You close your eyes, savoring the moment.
Not long after, you feel Daryl start to stir behind you. You feign sleep, not wanting to make him feel embarrassed or anything about how your bodies ended up during the night. You expect him to jump up, snatching his arm back, not wanting to be caught with it around your sleeping form. But to your surprise, you feel him let out a deep sigh and curl even closer into your back before getting up. He carefully crawls over you, thinking you're still asleep, and unzips the tent. You don’t hear anything for a minute, but you can sense that he’s still there. You hear a low chuckle before you feel the tent move as he exits it.
You wait at least ten minutes before moving yourself. You crawl out of the tent to find the group circling up. Daryl walks back towards you as you slide into your boots, and he extends a hand to you, which you gladly take, helping you up. He doesn’t let it go as the two of you walk over to everyone else as Shane addresses the group yet again.
“Everybody listen up,” he instructs. You fight the urge to roll your eyes. He really loves the sound of his own voice,  you think snarkily to yourself. “Those of you with C.B.s, we’re gonna be on channel 40,” he continues. “Let’s keep the chatter down, okay? Now you got a problem, don’t have a C.B., can’t get a signal or anything at all, you’re gonna hit your horn one time. That’ll stop the caravan. Any questions?” He looks around the group.
“We’re, uh,” Morales starts, and your heart immediately drops. “We’re not going.”
“We have family in Birmingham,” his wife continues for him. “We wanna be with our people.”
“You go on your own, you won’t have anyone to watch your back,” Shane says, like he's trying to convince them not to go. 
“We’ll take the chance,” Morales says. “I gotta do what’s best for my family.”
“You sure?” Rick asks, earnestly.
“We talked about it,” Morales replies. “We’re sure.”
“All right,” Rick says, bending down. He and Shane whisper to each other about who knows what. Then they step toward him, handing him a handgun and ammo. 
“Box is half full,” Shane explains. 
Next to you, Daryl is clearly frustrated. He’s biting his nails on the hand that’s not holding yours. Then he scoffs and turns, letting go of your hand and stalking off, leaving you with the rest of the group. They’re all giving each other heartfelt goodbyes. Morales claps you on the shoulder and tells you to take care of yourself. “And Dixon,” he says with a smirk. You smile back. To your surprise, his kids latch on to your waist as his wife pulls you into a tight hug. You didn’t expect the affection from them, but you appreciate it nonetheless.
After you peel yourself away from the Morales family, you walk towards Daryl’s pickup. He has Merle’s motorcycle strapped to the back, and all of your stuff in the backseat.
“Got room for one more?” you ask playfully.
Daryl looks up at you from the other side of the truck. “ ‘course,” he says.
“Wasn’t sure if you were trying to pawn me off on somebody else,” you joke.
“Shut up,” he says, smirking. He climbs into the driver’s seat. You hop in the passenger side and barely close the door before he starts driving, following the rest of the caravan out of the quarry.
The caravan drives for several hours. You entertain yourself by bothering Daryl while he drives. This time, you’re reading the horoscopes off of an old newspaper you found on the floor of the backseat.
“When’s your birthday?” you ask him. 
“Why?” he asks, trying to sound annoyed with you but you can see right through him - he’s happy to not be alone on this drive. 
“Stop being so difficult and tell me,” you snap, hitting him with the newspaper.
“April 7th,” he answers, reluctantly.
“Hmmmm,” you say, reading. “So you’re an Aries. That makes sense.”
“What’s that supposed t’ mean?” he demands.
“‘Aries have bold personalities,’” you read from the newspaper. “‘They are courageous and determined individuals, natural leaders, but tend to be moody and aggressive when they don’t get their say.’” You burst out laughing.
“Shut up,” he says for the millionth time on this car ride, but you can see he’s trying not to smile. 
“It’s so true though!” you yell between laughs.
“Yeah?” he says, giving into his smile, “what about yours?”
“April 23rd,” you tell him. “Taurus.” You quickly scan the paper. “‘Reliable, patient, and as devoted and loyal as they come,’” you read. “‘Stubborn to a fault and possessive of those they love.’” 
It’s Daryl’s turn to laugh. “That sounds right,” he says. “Yer stubborn as shit.” You hit him with the newspaper again, laughing with him, before he has to slam on the breaks. The caravan has stopped.
“Stay here,” he says quickly, putting the truck in park and sliding out of it. 
“What, am I safer here?” you ask, rolling your eyes.
“Nah,” he says simply. “So you can protect my bike.” He dodges the newspaper that you ball up and throw at him, laughing, as he takes his crossbow and runs up to the front of the RV. 
Asshole, you think to yourself, but you can’t help but laugh too. 
After a while, Daryl walks back to the truck, all the laughter and levity from before wiped from his expression.
“What’s going on?” you ask, suddenly concerned. 
“Jim’s done,” Daryl says, looking at the ground. “He’s struggling. Wants to be left behind, so that’s what we’re gonna do.” He comes around the truck and opens the door for you. You slide out, and follow him up to where the rest of the group is.
Jim is sitting up against a tree when you get there. Jacqui talks to him softly before planting a kiss on his cheek. Rick offers him a gun - you guess to end it for good - but he refuses it. 
“I’m okay,” Jim reassures him. 
The group takes turns saying goodbye to him. You and Daryl weren’t particularly close with him - to be honest, he kinda gave you the creeps, not for any fault of his own but because of everything he had been through before he joined the group - so you both give him a goodbye nod before walking back to the truck. 
This time, when you and Daryl get back into your seats, you stay quiet while you drive off.
Just before sundown, the caravan parks outside of the CDC building. When you jump out of the pickup truck, you struggle to take in the scene in front of you. There are bodies everywhere. Piles of sandbags suggest that the military was there, but there are no surviving humans in sight. There are several walkers stumbling about, but for the most part, the place is a graveyard. Flies buzz around everywhere.
Daryl has his crossbow raised and a shotgun in his other hand, ready to fight. You grip the hunting knife he gave you and follow him and the rest of the group. As quietly as possible, you all approach the building.
Rick knocks on the shutter doors. The sound is so loud compared to the silence of the place. It immediately draws the dead.
“Walkers!” someone yells. 
You and Daryl turn, ready to fight them off. He shoots the closest one with his crossbow, but more are quickly approaching. He tosses you his gun.
“Aim for their heads,” he tells you. “Do yer best, I’ll handle the rest.”
You raise the gun, never having shot one before, and aim it at an approaching walker. You fire, hitting it in the chest. You pump the gun again to get another bullet in the chamber and this time, you hit the walker straight in the face. Next to you, Daryl takes out two more.
Behind you, Shane and Rick are arguing again, and you can hear Lori trying to get involved too. But you don’t have time to focus on what they’re saying - Carol cries, holding Sophia to her chest, and you refuse to let anything happen to them. You shoot another walker that tries to close in on them, then place yourself between Carol and any more of the dead that try to follow. You take aim at another one, when all of a sudden, there’s a loud sound and a bright light behind you. You turn, and see that the doors to the CDC are open.
The group rushes inside the building. Daryl pretty much pushes you through the door, keeping his eye on the walkers stumbling their way forward.
You step into the lobby of the CDC. It’s bright, even with most of the lights off. The place is amazingly clean, given the carnage that lays just outside its front doors. From what you can see, it’s empty. Everyone that’s armed keeps their guns up, reading for the next attack, but it doesn’t come.
“Anybody infected?” a voice calls from inside. You can’t see where it’s coming from.
“One of our group was,” Rick explains. “He didn’t make it.”
“Why are you here? What do you want?” the voice asks again. Now you see the lone man with a gun approaching the group.
“A chance,” Rick answers. 
“That’s asking an awful lot these days,” the stranger says, still approaching. You raise your gun at him, not even sure if you have any ammunition left.
“I know,” Rick says simply.
There’s a pause as the man surveys the group in front of him. You can only imagine what you all must look like to him.
But after a minute or so, he announces, “You all submit to a blood test. That’s the price of admission.”
“We can do that,” Rick assures him. 
The man lowers his gun. “You have stuff to bring in, you do it now. Once this door closes, it stays closed.”
Daryl quickly hands you his crossbow as he runs outside. You stand in the doorway, watching his back as he collects your bags from his truck. You don’t breathe until he comes back in, and the group piles into an elevator.
You and Daryl stand in the back corner. He moves himself in front of you, placing himself between you and this strange new man. You are grateful for it, and you lean your forehead into his back as you take deep breaths, trying to calm yourself down. We’re safe, you tell yourself. We’re safe now. 
When the elevator dings, you follow Daryl and the rest of the group out and down a long hallway.
“Are we underground?” you hear Carol ask. 
“Are you claustrophobic?” he asks back.
“A little,” she says quietly.
“Try not to think about it,” is all he says back.
Dick, you think. 
He leads the group into a big room with a lot of computers, where he announces that he’s the only one left there. Rick and several others ask him a bunch of questions, but you can’t be bothered to listen. You are still trying to process the events of the last half hour, and have to lean heavily on Daryl to keep your breathing steady. He lets you, giving your shoulder a small squeeze as he leads you to the next room where the man - Dr. Edwin Jenner, you find out - takes blood samples from you all. 
After he takes Andrea’s blood sample, she stumbles.
“Are you okay?” the doctor asks. 
“She hasn’t eaten in days,” Jacqui explains. “None of us have.” 
Jenner looks around at the group thoughtfully, then leaves the room without a word.
A short while later, the smell of food fills the air. You follow Daryl into yet another room, and see a table covered in food. There’s pasta and vegetables and bread. And wine! So much wine. Jenner pops a bottle open and pours some for all of the adults around the table. You swallow half of yours down, and savor the fuzzy feeling you get as it hits your brain. 
T-Dog piles a mound of spaghetti onto your plate and you dig in right away. It’s been so long since you’ve had something as simple as pasta, and you nearly moan after the first bite. Your cheeks burn, almost embarrassed at your reaction, but everyone around the table is reacting to the food as well, so you’re sure your reaction went unnoticed.
For the first time in what feels like weeks, the atmosphere of the group is pure happiness. Everyone is eating their fill and enjoying the drinks that Jenner has provided. Dale goes around the table, topping off everyone’s wine glasses, and everyone laughs as Carl takes his first sip of wine and nearly spits it out onto the table. 
Having finished eating, Daryl has taken to leaning against the counter behind where you sit, bottle of Southern Comfort in hand. You keep turning around to steal peeks at him as he taunts Glenn, making the group laugh even more. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him smile this big before. He catches your eye, and you match his smile, holding your glass out to him. He clinks his bottle with it and you each take a sip, not breaking eye contact until Rick starts tapping his knife on his glass.
“It seems to me we haven’t thanked our host properly,” Rick announces, standing and lifting his glass into the air.
“He is more than just our host!” T-Dog calls out, raising his glass too.
Everyone in the group raises their glasses in cheers to Jenner. 
“Booyah!” Daryl yells, and Dale and T-Dog echo his cheer. Everyone goes around, clinking glasses together and laughing and drinking to your host, thanking him for his hospitality. 
Shane is the first one to break the levity of the evening. “So when are you gonna tell us what the Hell happened here, Doc?” he asks Jenner. The room goes quiet. “All the—the other doctors that were supposed to be figuring out what happened, where are they?”
“We’re celebrating, Shane,” Rick says quietly, sitting down. “Don’t need to do this now.”
But of course, Shane continues. “Whoa, wait a second. This is why we’re here, right? This was your move—supposed to find all the answers. Instead we—” he stops, chuckling to himself. “we found him. Found one man, why?”
Jenner clearly looks uncomfortable, but answers him anyway. “Well, when things got bad, a lot of people just left, went off to be with their families. And when things got worse, when the military cordon got overrun, the rest bolted.”
“Every last one?” Shane presses him.
“No,” Jenner replies, staring him down. “Many couldn’t face walking out the door. They… opted out. There was a rash of suicides.” He looks away, as if reliving it. “That was a bad time.”
This time, Andrea leans in and asks, “You didn’t leave. Why?”
“I just kept working, hoping to do some good,” he answers sadly, looking up at her.
An awkward silence falls over the group. Everyone takes quiet sips from their drink, not making eye contact with anyone else, waiting for someone to break the tension.
Glenn wanders forward, looking at Shane. “Dude, you are such a buzzkill, man,” he mumbles. 
Shane at least has the courtesy to look a little ashamed of himself.
After dinner, you stumble behind the rest of the group, the effects of the wine hitting you harder than you expected. Daryl swoops in, reaching an arm around you and holding you steady.
“You all right?” he asks, concern lacing his glassy eyes. He’s probably just as drunk as you are.
“I’m more than all right,” you answer, a smile breaking across your face. “I feel great!” You sway as you say this, and Daryl is the only thing keeping you from falling. He smirks as he pulls you upright, and the two of you nearly trip over each other, trying to follow everyone else. 
Jenner is explaining things to those of the group who can actually listen. But whatever he says last catches Glenn’s attention. He turns back to the rest of the group, and says excitedly, “Hot water?”
“That’s what the man said,” T-Dog replies, and both of the men start laughing.
Then, the group splits up, each running to a room to call dibs on a shower. You are too busy laughing to try and claim one for yourself. Thankfully, Daryl has you, and he pulls you into one of the rooms with him.
Inside, there is a twin bed, a nightstand, and another door that you are assuming leads to the bathroom and the glorious shower with hot water. You fall onto the bed, laughing still as you sit up and look at Daryl. He stands by the door, looking at the ground awkwardly.
“What?” you ask him, giggling.
“You can go first,” he says shyly. “In the shower, I mean.”
“Oh,” you say, standing up off of the bed. You grab onto the doorframe of the bathroom to keep from falling. Daryl is right behind you, a hand on your waist, steadying you. You smile at him, then once you get your balance back, you walk into the small bathroom, and turn the water on for the shower. It comes out cold, so you decide to give it a minute before getting in.
When you turn around, you see Daryl trying to walk out of the bathroom.
“Wait,” you say, grabbing his arm.
“What?” he asks, looking at your hand on him rather than your face.
“Come with me,” you say quickly.
His face shoots up to yours. “What?” he asks again. You see the tips of his ears turning pink.
“There’s not much hot water,” you say. You feel your cheeks burning, not sure if it’s the wine or what you’re saying, but you carry on anyway. “This way, we’ll both get some.”
“Are you sure?” he asks quietly.
“Very sure,” you reply, pulling him towards you. 
When his body nearly collides with yours, you bring your hand up to his face and crash your mouth onto his. You can tell you took him by surprise - for a moment he freezes, but before you can pull back and apologize, his hand finds the back of your neck and he’s kissing you back. His kisses start off gentle but quickly deepen as he pulls you even closer to him. You run your tongue along his bottom lip and he parts his, letting you slip inside. He tastes of cigarettes and whiskey, and the taste alone is enough to make you moan.
Daryl pushes you so that your back is up against the wall, the hand that’s not on your neck finding your waist, slipping his fingers under the hem of your shirt. You raise your arms so that he can slip your shirt off entirely, only breaking the kiss when it gets in the way. Once it’s off, you wrap your arms around his neck and deepen the kiss even further as the two of you wrestle for dominance. 
You slide your hands down his muscular chest and move to unbotton his shirt, but he catches your hand, stopping you. “Wait,” he says.
“I don’t want to,” you say, trying to catch his mouth with yours again but he dodges it, looking at the ground instead.
“You don’t want-” he starts, but you cut him off.
“I do,” you say quickly. “Whatever you’re going to say, I do.” You cup his cheek with one hand. “We might die tomorrow. Who knows in this world.” You rub your thumb along his cheekbone. “But what I do know is that I want this. I want you.” You bend your knees, putting your face in front of his so that you can look into his eyes. “Please, Daryl.”
He gazes into your eyes. “You sure?” he asks.
“If you ask me that one more time, I’m taking your crossbow and shooting you with it,” you say smirking. At this, he smiles, grabbing your face with both of his hands and smashing his lips onto yours.
You and Daryl kiss each other while also trying to kick your shoes off. You have to break apart so that you can each wrestle with your pants. You’re suddenly really regretting your choice of skinny jeans, as you have to jump and yank to get them off. When you finally do, you find Daryl standing in front of you in just his boxers, and you take in his muscular form. His chest and arms are littered with scars, all of which you plant kisses on before he places his hands at the back of your thighs and picks up you, pushing you back into the wall. You wrap your legs around him and you catch his mouth with yours, savoring every moment of this kiss. 
He reaches one hand out and feels the shower water.
“It’s hot,” he murmurs into your kisses.
“Put me down,” you nearly yell, wiggling out of his arms. “I want in!”
Daryl laughs as he drops you to the floor, then he catches his fingers under your sports bra and pulls it up over your head. You grab the waistband of his boxers and yank them down just as he does the same to your panties. You stand in front of him, naked as the day you were born. Daryl looks you up and down, and you swear you can see the hunger in his eyes.
“C’mon now,” he says as he takes your waist, and pulls you into the shower with him.
You can’t decide what feels better: the hot water or Daryl Dixon’s kisses. The water sprays your back as he kisses and nibbles your lips, your jaw, your neck, your collarbone. Your hands find their way into his hair, running your fingers through it. A small moan escapes you as he worships you with his lips. Daryl kisses you lower and lower until he gets down onto his knees, hooking one of your legs over his shoulder, and he bites the inside of your thigh. You grab a fistful of his hair as he moves in to kiss your core.
The effect is immediate: you fall back into the wall as Daryl licks his way from your entrance up to your clit. One of his large hands grips your waist, holding you in place. Your head falls back in pleasure as he sucks on the sensitive nub, sending jolts of pleasure through your body. Your knee buckles beneath you, but he doesn’t let you fall. His free hand finds your entrance, teasing you by circling around it before he slips one finger inside.
You moan loudly as his finger enters you. You can’t remember the last time you felt this good, the last time you even hooked up with someone, and it sends your body into a frenzy. You tug on his hair, pulling his face up from kissing your core.
“I need you,” you say, breathlessly. “I need you now.”
Daryl immediately yields to your desire. He stands up, towering over you. When he kisses you, you taste yourself on his lips, and it makes you crave him even more. One of your legs already around his hip, he gently lifts you like you weigh nothing. You wrap both of your legs around his waist as he lines himself up with your entrance. He catches your lips in his, then presses his forehead to yours, looking deep into your eyes.
“All right?” he asks, his voice low and husky. You want to melt just at the sound of it.
“All right,” you whisper back. And when he pushes himself into you.
His head falls into the space between your shoulder and your neck as he does, starting slow. Gradually, he pushes into you further until he bottoms out. He pauses there, giving you a moment to adjust to his size, before he pulls his head back up, catching your lips in his. 
You kiss him back fiercely, letting him know you’re okay, and then he begins thrusting into you. He is gentle at first but he quickly picks up the pace. Your back slides up the wall with the power of his hips, but you can barely tell. All you can think - and feel and taste - is Daryl. Arms circling his neck, you kiss any part of him that you can reach: his lips, his jaw, just under his ear, his neck. When you bite down on his shoulder, you elicit a deep groan from him, and the sound makes your toes start to curl.
The mix of the hot water, his thrusts, the friction between you from his closeness lights a fire deep in your lower belly. You can feel your orgasm approaching, starting as a little spark and growing into a wildfire. With all your might, you pull him closer to you, moaning his name as you do.
“Oh Daryl,” you say breathlessly. “I’m gonna- I’m gonna-” and then your head falls back as your orgasm crashes over you.
All at once, your body feels as if it engulfs in flames. The knot in your stomach explodes like a firework show. Eyes closed, you moan and whimper into Daryl’s ear as he fucks you through your orgasm. He keeps the pace of his thrusts slow and steady. Your arms start to slip, but his grip on your thighs tightens, refusing to let you fall. He places gentle kisses and bites along your neck and jaw as you ride out your high.
When you start to come down, you catch his lips in yours.
“You good?” he asks into your kiss.
“So good,” you mumble out, smiling into his lips.
Daryl bites your lower lip, pulling on it lightly before letting go. His forehead finds the crook of your neck again as he thrusts into you harder, searching for his release next. Your nails drag along the back of his neck and his shoulders as he keeps pushing you up and into the shower wall. His thrusts become more erratic as he approaches his own orgasm. You grab a handful of his hair and pull, forcing him to lean his head back so you can kiss and bite along his neck. 
This undoes him. Quickly, he pulls out of you, lowering one of your legs to the floor. Eyes squeezed shut, he pumps himself once, twice, three times before he comes too, trying his best to aim it away from you. One leg still wrapped around him, you lay kisses along his chest, sucking on his collarbone as he rides out his own high. You steady him the best you can, then he falls into you, groaning as he does.
You kiss him on the forehead. “You good?” you ask, smirking.
Daryl chuckles before responding. “Amazin’, darlin’,” he drawls. He catches your lips again, then gently lowers your other leg so that you are standing on your own. You kiss him deeply, exhausted and giddy, wanting to draw it out for as long as possible. His hands are on your waist again, with one slowly dragging its way up your body, sending a shiver up your spine.
He pulls away, looking up into the stream of water. “Guess we should actually shower, huh?” he asks, smirking.
“Yeah,” you say, a little reluctantly, not wanting this moment to end. “If we run out of hot water, I’ll cry.”
Both laughing, you and Daryl break apart to start cleaning up. Thankfully, the CDC has body wash, shampoo, and conditioner dispensers on the wall of the shower. You grab some of the shampoo and dig your fingers into Daryl’s hair before he can stop you. You massage it into his scalp, eliciting another deliciously low groan from him. While you work on his hair, he reaches behind you to get some of the soap, and starts lathering your body, working meticulously from your shoulders to your chest, down your legs. He grabs you, switching your places so that he’s under the stream of water, rinsing out the shampoo as you start to shampoo your own hair. 
By the time the water starts to run cold, you and Daryl are both washed, rinsed, and conditioned. He jumps out of the shower first, tying a towel around his waist before wrapping you in one. Arms trapped inside, you have to let Daryl pull you out of the shower and back into the room. You trip over your discarded shoes, and land on the bed, giggling. 
As soon as you feel the softness of the mattress, your exhaustion catches up to you. You dry yourself the best you can, before chucking the towel across the room.
“Don’t be getting mah bed all wet,” Daryl says from across the room. He’s already slipped back into his boxers and sleeveless flannel shirt.
“Shut up, Daryl,” you mumble, sinking into the pillows. You pull the blanket out, making space for him to lay with you. He scoffs, but he climbs in anyway. You lay your head on his chest, pulling him tight. You barely feel his kiss on the top of your head before sleep overtakes you.
The next morning, you wake up, still snuggled into Daryl’s chest. You can tell that he's already awake; you can feel him gnawing on his fingernails before you even open your eyes. Anxiety radiates off of him.
Using your arms, you squeeze into him tighter, then lean up to kiss his neck.
“Good morning,” you murmur, eyes still closed but smiling.
“Mornin’,” he says, shortly.
Your eyes shoot open at his tone. All the affection, the gentleness from last night has been replaced by a coldness. You sit up, leaning on your elbow so you can look at him. He looks away.
“What’s wrong?” you ask.
“Nothin,” he grunts out.
You nudge him. “Liar,” you say. You grab his face with your free hand, and pull it towards you, forcing him to look at you. “Talk to me.”
“It’s nothin,” he mutters. He moves to get out of the bed but you don’t let him go.
“It’s not,” you say, more forcefully this time.
Daryl looks away from you again. It makes you want to punch him in the face.
“So that’s it?” you ask, trying to ignore the prickling of the tears in your eyes. “You get to fuck me once, and then go cold on me? That’s what we’re gonna be now?”
“That what you want?” he asks, still not looking at you.
“If you would look at me, you could see that’s not what I want at all,” you snap. 
This makes him look at you, and he immediately sees how glassy your eyes are. He hesitates, eyes flicking between yours and your lips. “You don’t?”
“Not at all,” you whisper. You cup his cheek with your hand, and he leans into it, eyes falling closed. “I want you. Just as much as I did last night. I want you. I want this. Forever. Even if forever is just for today.”
His eyes snap back open. “You do?” he asks, and you can hear the eagerness in his voice, even as he tries to hide it.
“I do,” you say breathlessly. You lean your face in towards his, pausing less than an inch away from his lips. “I really do.”
You can feel his breath hitch at your words. Gingerly, you close the gap between your lips and his, and place a soft kiss upon them. He kisses you back timidly, as if waiting for you to be repulsed. But when you deepen the kiss, he relaxes, his hands crawling up your back to pull you in closer.
Without breaking the kiss, you lay back onto the mattress, pulling him on top of you. Using one arm to hold up his weight, Daryl’s free hand trails up your side to cup your face. You slide your hand down his body, feeling the muscles of his chest again and then catching on the waistband of his boxers. Taking your hint, he pulls them down, releasing his cock, already hard, and lines it up with your entrance. He breaks the kiss only for a moment to look into your eyes, before pushing into you again.
Forehead pressed against yours, Daryl grinds into your body slowly. You lift your hips to meet him with each thrust, your hands exploring every inch of your body. The warmth that radiates off of his skin reignites your fire from last night. You catch his mouth with yours, his lips parting to allow your tongue in as your kisses deepen. 
Your bodies begin to flow like one, melting into one another with every movement. One of your legs wraps around his hips, pulling him in even closer. Daryl’s kisses become sloppy, slipping from your mouth to your jawline, trailing along it and down to your neck. Every one of your nerves feels like it's been pulled taut; every place that he touches you is like him strumming them like a guitar. 
The deep pool of desire inside of you begins to overflow, and your fingers find his hair as you come undone in his arms again. You moan his name, pepper him with kisses, drag your nails along his arms as your body gives into the pleasure that only he can give you. Your walls clench around him, and he barely lasts through your orgasm before he has to pull away, shooting his own onto the bed just beneath you. 
Daryl lays his head on your chest as you both recover from your mutual releases. Eyes closed, you rub his back as he pushes kisses into your skin. He eventually crawls back up to you and kisses your forehead, your nose, then your lips. When you open your eyes, you can see a gleam in his eyes that you’ve never seen before.
“Let’s go find some grub,” he says through his smirk. “I’m starvin’.”
You can’t help smiling, feeling happier than you have in a long time. But you should’ve known better.
By the time you and Daryl make your way to the breakfast room, most of the group is following Jenner out. You look at him, but he just shrugs and moves to follow the group. You stop to pour yourself a cup of coffee; the smell alone is making your mouth water, and you refuse to miss out on a luxury you used to take for granted. You assure Daryl that you’ll be in there in just a minute. 
“I won’t be missing out on anything too exciting,” you say to him with a smirk.
Boy, were you wrong.
When you walk into the main computer room, everyone is crowded around Jenner and watching the big screen. On it, you see what looks like an x-ray of a brain, and you nearly jump out of your skin when a streak of light shoots through it.
Carol asks, “God. What was that?”
“He shot his patient in the head,” Andrea explains, turning to Jenner. “Didn’t you?”
Jenner hesitates, before talking to the computer. “VI, Power down the main screen and the workstations.”
The computer voice responds, “Powering down main screen and workstations.” The room starts to go dark. 
As people hound the doctor with questions, you move over to where Daryl is standing. He watches the doctor carefully, and you can feel the tension radiating off of him. You try to place a hand on his arms but he pulls away, starting to pace the floor.
“So it’s not just here,” Andrea questions Jenner. “There’s nothing left anywhere? Nothing? That’s what you’re really saying, right?”
When he doesn’t answer, realization hits the group like a bag of bricks.
“Jesus,” Jacqui mutters, exasperated.
Daryl rubs his hands into his eyes, still pacing, “Man, I’m gonna get shitfaced drunk again,” he complains, leaning on one of the computers. 
Dale speaks up, “Dr. Jenner, I know this has been taxing for you and I hate to ask one more question, but…that clock—” he points to a big red countdown clock on the wall. “it’s counting down. What happens at zero?”
“The basement generators—they run out of fuel,” Jenner answers quickly, before walking out of the room.
“And then?” Rick asks, but Jenner ignores him. Instead, Rick turns back to the supercomputer.  “VI, what happens when the power runs out?”
The computer answers, “When the power runs out, facility-wide decontamination will occur.”
Daryl throws his hands up into the arm and curses before stalking out of the room. You look around at the rest of the group, who all look just as confused as you are. Rick nods his head towards Shane and the two of them, followed by Glenn and T-Dog, run out of the room. You look over at Carol and Lori, who are both holding their kids close. You decide to go find Daryl and try to figure out what the fuck is going on.
You find him back in the room where you had spent the night with him. He’s pacing the room, bottle of whiskey in hand. Every few steps, he takes a swig from it, muttering to himself.
“Daryl,” you say gently. He doesn’t seem to hear you. He keeps pacing and talking to himself as if you’re not even there.
“Daryl,” you say again, louder. He stops and looks at you. “Calm down,” you say, moving closer to him. “We’ll figure something out.”
“But what if we don’t?” he asks angrily. But underneath that anger, you can hear a twinge of fear laced in his voice. 
“We will,” you reassure him. “Rick and some of the guys ran off, probably to go look at those generators.” 
Daryl only grunts at you. You chuckle a little, before snatching the whiskey out of his hand. You plop down on the bed, patting the space next to you.
“C’mon,” you try to coax him over, but he doesn’t move.
“What are we supposed to do now?” he asks, quietly.
“I mean, you did say something about getting drunk,” you trail off, taking a long sip of the whiskey.
With a huff, Daryl lands on the bed next to you, snatching the bottle back from you and drinking.
A short while later, you are still sitting on the bed, legs draped over Daryl’s lap, enjoying the fuzziness in your head, courtesy of the whiskey. Daryl’s sitting with his head leaned back against the wall, one hand making lazy circles along your thigh. You take another sip from the bottle before passing it back to his open hand. As you do, the lights in the room dim.
Daryl immediately jumps, and moves to pop his head out into the hall. “What’s going on?” he asks. “Why is everything turned off?”
Jenner walks past your room, dressed in a shirt, tie, and lab coat, and takes the whiskey bottle from Daryl as he continues moving down the hall.
“Energy use is being prioritized,” he says as a means of explanation.
“Air isn’t a priority?” Dale asks, dumbfounded. “And lights?”
Jenner takes a swig from the bottle and says simply, “It’s not up to me. Zone 5 is shutting itself down.”
Daryl starts following him down the hallway. “Hey! Hey, what the Hell’s that mean?”
But Jenner keeps walking, and your entire group follows. You trail behind everyone else, just barely able to make out Daryl yelling at the doctor. “Hey, man, I’m talking to you. What do you mean it’s shutting itself down? How can a building do anything?”
More lights begin to turn off as you follow Jenner back to the computer room. Rick, T-Dog, Glenn and Shane come running from another doorway to join the rest of the group. Rick runs ahead and meets up with Jenner, demanding answers. The rest of you trickle down the stairs to join them at the computers.
The clock on the wall reads 30 minutes left.
Jenner pauses, allowing everyone to catch up. He hands the bottle to Daryl, who angrily snatches it out of his hand, spilling some whiskey on the floor.
Then Jenner turns to Andrea. “It was the French,” he says.
“What?” she asks, confused.
“They were the last ones to hold out as far as I know,” he explains. “While our people were bolting out the doors and committing suicide in the hallways, they stayed in the labs till the end. They thought they were close to a solution.”
“What happened?” Jacqui asks.
Jenner looks defeated as he continues. “The same thing that’s happening here. No power grid. Ran out of juice. The world runs on fossil fuel. I mean, how stupid is that?”
Shane jumps up to confront him but Rick pulls him back. He calls out behind him, “Lori, grab our things. Everybody, get your stuff. We’re getting out of here now!”
But as you all turn to run back to the rooms, an alarm starts blaring.
“What’s that?” Shane asks Jenner.
The computer answers for him, announcing: “30 minutes to decontamination.” Everyone is looking around the room, at each other, panic in their eyes.
“Doc, what’s going on here?” Daryl yells. But Jenner is too busy messing with the computers to answer.
Shane addresses the group, “Everybody, y’all heard Rick. Get your stuff and let’s go! Go now! Go!” 
But as everyone starts to run again, there’s a loud bang: the security door to the computer room has slammed shut.
“He just locked us in!” Glenn yells, fear almost causing his voice to break.
You look for Daryl in the chaos, and you find him running at Jenner, the bottle in hand, ready to hit him.
“You son of a bitch!” he yells as he tries to swing, but Shane and T-Dog catch him before he can connect with the doctor’s head.
Rick stalks up to him. “Hey, Jenner, open that door now,” he demands.
“There’s no point,” Jenner explains, dejected. “Everything topside is locked down. The emergency exits are sealed.”
“Well, open the damn things,” Dale yells.
“That’s not something I control,” Jenner continues. “The computers do. I told you: once that front door closed, it wouldn’t open again. You heard me say that. It’s better this way.”
Rick looks at him, confused. “What is? What happens in 28 minutes?” When Jenner doesn’t answer, Rick asks again, “What happens in 28 minutes?!”
Jenner shouts back, “You know what this place is?! We protected the public from very nasty stuff! Weaponized smallpox! Ebola strains that could wipe out half the country! Stuff you don’t want getting out! Ever!” He pauses, sitting back down. He continues, quieter this time. “In the event of a catastrophic power failure—in a terrorist attack, for example—H.I.T.s are deployed to prevent any organisms from getting out.”
“H.I.T.s?” Rick asks, approaching him.
Jenner orders the computer to define it for him. “H.I.T.s—high-impulse thermo baric fuel-air explosives consist of a two-stage aerosol ignition that produces a blast wave of significantly greater power and duration than any other known explosive except nuclear. The vacuum-pressure effect ignites the oxygen at between 5,000 degrees and 6,000 degrees and is useful when the greatest loss of life and damage to structures is desired.”
“It sets the air on fire,” Jenner explains in a low voice, not making eye contact with anyone. “No pain.”
The group stares at Jenner, understanding hitting everyone differently. Rick grabs Lori and Carol, holding them close. Carol is openly crying now, hugging Sophia to her chest. Dale and T-Dog just stare, mouths agape. Your hands reach up to cover your mouth as you try to process what you just heard: Jenner is going to kill us all.
Only Daryl still has his wits about him. Kind of. He throws the liquor bottle at the sealed door, yelling at Jenner to open it.
Shane runs at the door with a fire ax, trying to cut it open. T-Dog tosses a second one to Daryl, who catches it and starts working with Shane to get the door open. Lori and Carol slide down to the floor, each with their kid in their lap, trying to keep them calm. You move closer to where Shane and Daryl are working on the door, trying to watch for any indication that it’s working. As far as you can see, they aren’t making a dent.
After a few minutes of no progress, they both stop, out of breath. You try to catch Daryl, but he and Shane are moving back to where Rick is talking to Jenner, practically begging him to let you all out.
“Can’t make a dent,” Shane tells him, out of breath.
“Those doors are designed to withstand a rocket launcher,” Jenner explains, smugly.
“Well, your head ain’t!” Daryl yells, running up, swinging his ax at the man.
It takes Dale, Rick and T-Dog to hold Daryl back. T-Dog pulls the ax out of Daryl’s hands, who pushes past them all and stalks back over to the door. You follow him.
“Daryl-” you start, but he cuts you off.
“Don’t tell me to calm down,” he snaps at you.
“I wasn’t-” you try but he moves in swiftly, taking your face between his hands.
“You said you wanted forever, right?” he asks. Tears in your eyes, you can only nod in response. “Then I’m gettin you yer forever.” He leans in, touching his forehead to yours, and looks deeply into your eyes. “I’m gettin’ us out of here.” 
You nod again. “O-okay,” you manage to get out. You and Daryl stay this way for a minute, soaking each other in, only breaking apart when you hear the sound of a shotgun cocking. Both of your heads snap back to the group as Shane runs up to Jenner with the gun, pressing it into his face.
“Open that door or I’m gonna blow your head off. Do you hear me?” he threatens the doctor.
Rick and Lori try to talk him down, but Shane begins yelling and shooting at the computer monitors. The other members of the group duck for cover as pieces of the machines start flying in different directions. Daryl nearly has to knock you to the ground as Rick tries to get the gun from Shane, causing a stray round to hit the light fixture above you. 
Rick wrestles the gun away from Shane. Everyone looks to him for guidance. He hands it off to T-Dog before turning on Jenner again. “I think you’re lying,” he says. “You’re lying about no hope. If that were true, you’d have bolted with the rest or taken the easy way out. You didn’t. You chose the hard path. Why?”
Exasperated, Daryl finds the ax again and returns to beating on the door. You follow him with the second one, and stand between him and the rest of the group, trying to hear what they’re saying in between the slams of the ax on the door. Each slam of the ax on the door lines up with your heart, which is pounding in your chest. Fear threatens to take over, but you shove it back down. Daryl’s going to get us out of here, you tell yourself on repeat. We are going to live.
After a while, Daryl’s hits on the door begin to slow down. He stops, hands on his knees, panting. He refuses to look at you. Don’t give up,  you want to tell him, but your throat feels like it's closing. You look back to Jenner, who is watching Rick intently as he continues to plead. 
Whatever he says to Jenner must work, because all of a sudden, the door shoots open.
“Come on!” Daryl yells, signaling for everyone to follow him. You reach him at the door, pulling him into a quick hug as everyone runs up behind you.
Everyone except Jacqui.
“Let’s go. Let’s go,” T-Dog says to her, trying to pull her along.
But Jacqui pulls away. “No no. I’m staying,” she tells him, tears in her eyes. “I’m staying, sweetie.”
“But that’s insane!”
“No, it’s completely sane,” she continues. “For the first time in a long time. I’m not ending up like Jim and Amy.” Everyone stops and stares at her. She looks at the group, and motions them forward. “There’s no time to argue. And no point, not if you want to get out. Just get out. Get out.” She pushes T-Dog to urge him to go.
Daryl grabs your hand. “We gotta go, girl,” he says as he starts pulling you down the hallway. You stumble along behind him, doing your best to keep up. You hear the footsteps behind you as more group members run out, but when you peer behind you, you see that Dale hasn’t left the computer room, and neither has Andrea. You want to yell out but you can’t as Daryl throws open the door to the stairwell and you have to start climbing.
When you make it to the lobby, T-Dog runs forward, trying to open the doors. They’re locked.
Daryl and Shane take the axes again and start trying to break open the windows, but they barely even splinter with each hit.
Your blood is pounding in your ears. There has to be only three minutes left on that timer, and you can’t find a way out of the building. You look around for something to use to try and break out, but there’s no use. T-Dog hits the window with a chair but it bounces right off each time. Shane shoots at it with the shotgun and, while it makes a small crack in it, it’s not enough to break it open.
We’re not going to get out in time, you think to yourself. You feel your chest tightening as fear takes over. Tears start to prick your eyes again as you look at Daryl. He’s frantic, looking up and down the lobby, trying to come up with another plan. But you can tell he comes up empty-handed.
Then Carol runs forward, digging in her purse, “Rick, I have something that might help,” she cries. Shane mutters under his breath, but she ignores him. “Your first morning at camp, when I washed your uniform I found this in your pocket.” She pulls out a grenade - a grenade?! - and hands it to Rick before running back to her daughter.
As Rick runs towards the window with the grenade, Daryl runs at you, looping an arm around your waist and dragging you behind a low wall. He spins you around so that his back is to the windows, and he holds you tight. You grip his arms and squeeze your eyes closed, bracing for whatever is about to happen.
The grenade explodes, shattering the window. Daryl pokes his head up, peering over the wall, then grabs you by the arm. “Run!” he yells, and you and the rest of the group make a break for it. 
Daryl reaches the window first, tossing the ax out before jumping down to the ground. Then he turns around, grabbing you by the waist and pulling you down next to him. He picks the ax back up, and yells at you to stay behind him. You pull your hunting knife out of its sheath on your hip and follow him.
Together, you make a beeline for his truck. Everyone is running. Shane and Rick shoot a couple of lingering walkers, clearing a path to the vehicles. Daryl drops your hand to take the head off of an incoming walker with the ax. He pushes you on ahead of him and you sprint to the pick up.
When you reach it, you run around to the driver’s side, trying to put as much distance between yourself and the building as possible. Daryl runs up, yanking the door open.
“Get in, get in,” he yells, half lifting you into the truck. You barely make it on to the seat before he jumps in behind you, slamming the door shut. You go to slide over but Daryl pushes you down so that you’re laying on the seat. He lays on top of you, holding you close to his chest. You squeeze your eyes closed and wrap your arms around him the best you can, and you pray for the first time in ages.
Please god, you beg. Let us be okay-
Then you hear the explosion. The truck rattles at the sheer force of it. Daryl pulls you even closer to him, his face lost in your hair. 
It feels like it goes on forever. Eventually when it starts to quiet down, you feel Daryl sit up slightly. You lean forward too, trying to peer out of the window, and you gasp.
The building is gone. All that’s in front of you is a pile of rubble and massive flames, with black smoke reaching up to touch the sky. You let your tears stream down your face now, thinking about your friends who stayed behind. 
You crawl out from under Daryl to get a closer look. Behind one of the sandbags, you see a blonde ponytail pop up.
“Oh my god,” you cry out, hitting Daryl’s arm. You point. “Look!” He leans in, and the two of you watch Andrea and Dale stumble towards the RV. “They made it,” you sigh, leaning back in the seat. Daryl leans back too, chest heaving. 
The two of you sit there for a moment, catching your breath and taking in the destruction around you. Eventually, you hear the RV’s engine start up. Daryl puts the keys in the ignition of the truck, starting it too. He turns and looks at you.
You place a hand on his thigh. “So forever, huh?” you ask.
A small smirk reaches his lips. “Yup,” he says, putting the truck into gear. He wraps his arm around your shoulders, pulling you across the bench seat and into his side. “Forever.”
693 notes · View notes
angelltheninth · 9 months
Note
HSR men and the romance cliche where they wake up married after a night of drinks and partying
Ah, the premise of so many enemies to lovers movies.
Pairing: Blade, Dan Heng, Gepard, Jing Yuan, Luka, Luocha, Welt x Fem!Reader
Tags: fluff, developing relationship, accidental marriage, enemies to lovers, rivals to lovers, confession, angry make outs, fake/pretend relationship to real relationship
A/N: Its funny that as much as I hate romance movies I'm a sucker for so many of their tropes.
Blade takes a lot of delight in this situation because he thinks its funny that you claim to hate his guts but a little drinking, some kisses and one wild night in bed and you're marrying him. Oh this is too good for him to let go of. You can deny it all you want but you're attracted to him on some level, these scratch marks on his back and the rings on your fingers are proof. You can make this easy by admitting it, just a simple "yes" will do.
Dan Heng is confused how you even got to this phase. Yes you like each other to some degree but it's never been like this. When you're at work you have lots of playful banter, it never went much farther. He doesn't want to hurt your feelings because he can see that as much as you're freaking out you want his support too and maybe give this a try? Just for a little while cause it might look bad if got divorced right away. When he sees you looking at the ring with that little smile on your face he starts to wonder if this was something he's always wanted, but was too afraid to ask for.
Gepard is horrified that he allowed himself to get so under the influence that he would marry one of his fellow knights. And you... slept together too... oh... what if... are you pregnant? Right, right you don't know yet, of course. But if you are then he's ready to support you! He's getting a little ahead of things isn't he? It's not as if he doesn't like you or enjoys your company, he wouldn't call it love but would seem odd for him to have a secret wife. So why not start small, you'll get washed up and then he'll take you to breakfast. Who knows maybe you can work your way up to a wedding.
Jing Yuan doesn't think its a big deal, it was just a spur of the moment decision and if he was being honest one that doesn't bother him at all. Everyone's been telling him its time to settle down, why not with his secretary? You've had a friends with benefits relationship for a while and you've both shown no intent in seeing other people. That may be true but this means you'll have to come out about your previous relationship as well. Don't worry, if anything has any objections they can say it to him, if they dare.
Luka hates this as much as you do. You're his rival, you trade blows in the ring, not kisses in the sheets. Although you've both had those dreams too, he himself needed many cold showers because of it. Being forced to endure this for a few months won't be easy, not with the press asking questions, how long you've been dating, why did you act like you hated each other. It wasn't an act, but your happy lovey-dovey attitude sure is. When the doors close behind you all you can do is take out your anger on each other via kisses, trading them as you move to the bedroom to get the frustrations out.
Luocha thought about breaking things off right away but couldn't bring himself too when he saw the lovestruck look on your face when you looked at him. This marriage needs to end sooner or later, unless you plan to follow him to the road, which he doesn't want to do to you. Your life is here, not out there. But he will, at least for a little while be the best husband you could hope for. He never thought he would find himself falling in love and opening a clinic in the process.
Welt kind of wants to give this a shot. Sure he doesn't know you that well yet but from what he has seen of you, you're a very hard worker, you keep a calm head on your shoulders and you look very cute when shy, he remembers that from last night very well. He's never been married before so this will be a learning experience for you both, one that will go from pretending to be in love, to longing glances, to good night kisses just because it feels right, to cuddling on the couch every day, and finally to confessing your love to each other.
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babyleostuff · 7 months
Text
my favourite person | joshua hong
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prompt | i'm not a lot of people's favourite person
word count | 1.3k
genre | angst & (mostly) fluff
author's note | ugh i haven't written a longer fic like this in a while, i've missed this
Joshua was that type of person who never wanted to bother you with his own problems. He cherished you and your happiness way too much, so what would be the point in sharing his own worries with you?
He was a big boy, he could take care of himself, no matter how much he wanted to find peace and comfort in your arms.
You knew something was wrong, despite him insisting he was fine. You knew him like the back of your hand and something has been clearly bothering him.
His bright smile was gone and even if he did smile, it didn’t reach his eyes, like it usually did. He didn’t share any funny stories from the practice room, he went to bed without giving you your mandatory good night kiss and you woke up to his side of the bed cold and empty.
“Joshua, you really have to tell me if anything is bothering you,” you said and squeezed his arm. “I’m here for you.”
But the only response you got was a small smile and a “I’m fine darling. Don’t worry about me,” which didn’t make the case any better.
You decided to let it go and wait for him to come around. Especially, because he had a company dinner soon, which you hoped would cheer him up a bit.
Perhaps a talk with Jeonghan or Seungcheol wouldn’t hurt as well.
Leaving with a quiet goodbye and a kiss to your forehead (like he always did before leaving), made you hopeful you were slowly getting your Shua back.
Some of the boys posted a couple of pictures of them together, before the party even began and Joshua was in every single one of them.
He seemed fairly happy, but you knew very well he could have been pretending.
Nonetheless, you decided to put your phone away, there was no point in dwelling on whether he was fine or not.
He wouldn’t be coming back to your apartment tonight anyways, he never did after big parties. He was always afraid that he’d make too much noise and wake you up, so he always went back to his own place after a night of drinking.
Settling down for the night, you unawarely stroked the pillow on your boyfriend’s side, where his head would usually be. He had never told you this, but his heart always skips anytime you run your fingers through his hair, as a warm feeling settles in his tummy.
He was always convinced that love was an emotion that he’d never be able to describe, but the genuine care in your eyes and the happiness in your smile could make him talk about love for hours.
“Fuck.”
You tiredly rubbed your eyes with your (Joshua’s) sweatshirt, trying to pick up where the sounds were coming from, while still being half asleep.
You stumbled out of bed, not so gently running into your dresser, while trying not to freak out over a thief who's probably robbing your apartment right now.
Finally, reaching the kitchen, you exhaled in relief as you saw that it was only your boyfriend, trying to take off his shoes.
But then you realised something. Why was he here? And then you realised something else.
He was definitely not sober.
Seeing your boyfriend drunk was nothing new, but seeing him wasted was something you thought you’d never get to see.
“Honey, are you okay?” you asked, quickly grabbing his hand to get his attention. You couldn't help thinking that something bad had happened, as his eyes were wide and he seemed almost… scared?
Shaking his head, he clumsily grabbed your other hand, putting them on his cheeks.
For a second you thought about calling Jeonghan. You’ve never seen your boyfriend in such a miserable state before and it was scaring you. The light in his eyes was gone and his beautiful face showed nothing but pain.
Nothing about this was good, but the worst was that you still had no idea what had happened.
As you got lost in your own thoughts, you felt something wet hitting your fingertips and that was when you realised Joshua was crying.
“Oh baby,” you whispered, as he collapsed into your arms. His sobs echoed through your quiet apartment, while his shoulder shook with every breath he took.
He held tightly onto you, almost as you were his lifeline - the only thing keeping him alive. Your own heart was breaking with every cry that he let out, the sound shattering any ounce of hope that you had that he’d be all right.
You lowered both of you to the ground, so you could sit in the dark curridor, illuminated only by the moonlight coming through the window.
Taking a shaky inhale, he put his head on your lap, while you gently stroked his head and placed small kisses on his forehead, to let him know that you were there with him.
“I’m not a lot of people’s favourite person.”
The not so comforting silence of your apartment was finally broken by your boyfriend, who seemed to have calmed down, even though he still struggled to take a deep breath.
“What did you say honey?” you said quietly, brushing his hair away from his face.
“I think I’m not a lot of people’s favourite person,” he repeated, slowly pushing himself up to seating.
You looked at his tired expression, wanting nothing more to take all of his burdens away from him.
He was usually very good at avoiding the hate he got online, but from time to time, it could really get to him. It was unavoidable, you both knew that, but sometimes he wanted nothing more but to talk to his fans and have a good time with them.
But because a lot of people want to harm him, his reputation and his feelings, it wasn’t easy to manoeuvre between the good and the bad comments.
It seemed like this time he stumbled upon some really nasty shit.
“Why do you say that? Where did it come from?” you asked rhetorically, voice laced with concern.
He didn’t respond, only put his head on your shoulder, putting all of his weight onto you.
Not wanting to dig deeper, you put your arms tightly around his shoulders, and placed one of your hands on his tear stained cheek.
“You know,” you muttered so as not to startle him. “You might not be a lot of people’s favourite person, but you’re definitely my favourite person,” you kissed the side of his head, as you felt more tears rolling down his cheek.
“I have no idea how you’re feeling right now, nor will I ever get to experience what you’re experiencing, but I want you to know that despite all those horrible people that want to cause nothing more but pain, there are thousands of people who love you and cherish you.”
“Take a look around you. You have me, you have your brothers and you have your true fans that want you to be happy,” you whispered into his hair.
“I think that’s more than enough,” he said quietly, lifting his head to look at you.
His eyes were red, but to you they were the happiest they’ve been in a while. Even the corners of his lips were slightly turned upwards, to which you couldn’t help but smile.
“You cannot make everyone happy, Shua. There are going to be people that’ll want to hurt you, but remember that you’re always surrounded by people that love you,” you said.
He turned away to wipe his wet cheeks, feeling slightly embarrassed about his emotional outburst.
Usually, he’d go to his own apartment and cry himself to sleep, but tonight something made him come back home to you.
“Joshua,” you put your hand on his shoulder. “Next time, please talk to me before it gets that bad. I know that you don’t want to burden me with your worries, but I can't stand seeing you like this.”
“I love you so much, and I want us to go through the good and the bad together.”
He nodded and took your hand in his.
“Together.”
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nackrosor · 4 months
Text
~Your Wish~
(pt.1/3)
PART 2 - PART 3
Brahms Heelshire x nanny!Reader
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warnings/tags: smut, voyeurism, masturbation (nothing explicit), not much happening tbh, it's more of a teasing for what might come next... (i'm thinking somnophilia, dub/con, eventual consensual sex but we'll see...) words count: 1,1k. a.n: this is just a lil' something to keep the writing block away and to get used to writing less but posting more. Also, for once I focused on the character's - in this case Brahms's - feelings/thoughts instead of the reader's, so there's that. Enjoy!
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The boy watched you as you placed Brahms in its bed with the care of a mother. You've been looking after the doll for weeks now, treating it with such gentleness; he noticed it and it made him happy, proud of you. He liked you even more because of it. 
He's been watching you the entire time, peeking through the slits and gaps between the walls. Every time your hands held the doll's small form tight to your chest or each time your lips brushed its ceramic face for a goodnight kiss, he wished it was him instead of his fake counterpart. He wished to be touched like that, to be cared for like that… By you.
Despite his ardent and ever-growing fondness for you, he stayed back, hidden behind the walls, only coming out when you were outside in the garden or asleep in your bed. He was afraid you'd be scared to see him, scared of him. That you would run away, leave him alone… He would not be able to bear it. No. You were his. His y/n. 
He'd stay hidden for you, content to watch you and admire you from a distance… fantasising about your touch, your warmth, your lips... 
You leaned down and gave the doll the mandatory goodnight kiss, drawing Brahms's attention back to you. A soft groan left his lips at the sight. Everything you did aroused him. It was an instant reaction. Even at that moment, he could already feel himself growing… 
"You know, Brahms?” 
His ears perked up at the sound of your voice. He eagerly leaned in against the wooden panel in the hope of hearing you better. 
“Sometimes I wish you were a real boy so that we would keep each other company in this big, scary house." 
You admitted with a little smile on your lips as you caressed the cold doll's face, and he almost lost it. He would have punched through the wall and wrapped his arms tight around you, right there and there, if only he could. Would you have accepted him? Without reservations? He had just heard you say you wished he was real… Would you have been happy to see him? To see that he was, in fact, very much real and just as desirous to keep you company.
The melodious sound of your chuckle drew his attention back to you, and he saw you shaking your head in amusement before you tucked the doll in and retreated towards the door to leave the room. 
Brahms ran after you without even a second thought, rushing through the maze behind the walls to follow your path.
You made it to your bedroom and started undressing yourself to get ready for bed. His breath caught in his throat; the sight of your bare body always made him twitch in need. Oh, how he would love to strip you out of your clothes at least once... His probing eyes raked over your curves, his breathing becoming ragged, while you slipped into your nightgown and crawled into your bed with a tired sigh. 
The light went out, and he hissed. It was difficult to watch you with the entire room enveloped in pitch-blackness, but at least he could make out your faint silhouette since that night the moon shone high in the sky, its kind rays gently illuminating your soft curves through the dark drapes.
He kept watching you for a while, making sure you fell asleep, making sure you were alright. 
As he was turning around to crawl back to his place and take care of himself, he heard a soft, muffled sound coming from your room. He immediately moved back to the hole to peek inside. 
You were stirring under the sheets. Were you having a bad dream? Or perhaps you couldn't fall asleep? 
He leaned in further, squinting through the gap in an attempt to see you better. More weak noises came out of you, causing him to frown in confusion. It didn't sound like you were in pain… But your breath came out in short gasps, as if you were having trouble with something.
Brahms felt his muscles tense up, his whole body urging him to follow his instincts and barge into the room to help you. 
“Ohh, f-fuck…f-fuck…”
The sound of your voice made him freeze on the spot, his eyes growing wide. He watched as your legs spread apart under the sheets and your body arched up slightly. He could see it clearly now; your arm hidden beneath the sheets, resting right between your thighs. 
It took all of his strength to hold back the deep grunt that was about to spill out of his mouth when he finally realised what was happening. His legs gave out, causing him to fall to the floor, but his hands muffled the thud by holding onto the wall, slowing down his fall.
He leaned his forehead against the wooden panels, his breathing shallow and his body trembling in restraint. His hand tentatively reached for his pants, while the other rested on the wall in front of him for support. He had to bite down on his lips to muffle a moan the moment he palmed himself from above the fabric. His bulge twitched, desperately screaming for attention but he knew he couldn't answer… He would make too much noise… and alert you… Scare you… No… He couldn't risk it… He had to wait… Wait until you finished and fell asleep… Only then… Only then he could… 
Reluctantly, he tore his hand away from his pants and rested it on the wall as well, going back to focus on the sight of you. Your voice was growing louder, and each single moan and whimper that escaped you went straight to his throbbing erection, making him grit his teeth. His hips started bucking up, thrusting into the air on their own accord, moving in unison with your own as if he was the one pleasuring you… hitting your most precious spot inside you instead of your fingers. 
He had to summon every ounce of willpower inside him to control himself and hold back when he heard you cry out in pleasure, your body spasming violently, shaken by waves of ecstasy. 
The muffled sound of his ragged breathing drowned out your sounds as it reverberated through his mask, his hot breath condensing into tiny drops on the cold ceramic. 
Brahms kept staring at you, raptured and shuddering with barely contained lust as you came down from your high and tucked yourself in again, ready to fall asleep this time. 
He nearly came only from watching you, or rather, hearing you. If he could have truly seen you, nothing could have prevented him from bursting inside his pants without even touching himself. It would have been so much better than what he was going through at that very moment —shivering, gasping for air, trying to remain silent, and not answering the urge to relieve himself. 
He had to make sure you were asleep first. 
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[A.N: let me know if you would like to read part 2 of this...]
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[Also consider leaving a tip here on Tumblr or BUYING ME A ☕, if you particularly like what you read. Thank you! 🥀]
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ashwhowrites · 4 months
Note
Eddie Munson x cheerleader! Reader, Chrissy tried to help her best friend, reader, with her crush, Eddie Munson, but she's very nervous when he's around her, meanwhile, Steve tries to help Eddie with his crush, Reader, but she makes him really nervous, they go to a party, where Reader sees a girl talking with Eddie, she has piercings, tattoos, wears leather and she thinks that Eddie's into that girl and not her, so she goes out of the house and Eddie goes to look after her and tells her that that girl likes Steve, not him, and that she's his cousin and Reader just throws herself at Eddie's arms, and tells him that she was jealous bc she likes him
I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it! Thank you for requesting <3
Shy game
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Even though Y/N was popular and a cheerleader, had a strong voice and wasn't afraid to speak up. There was one person that made her so nervous that nothing came out of her mouth. Eddie Munson.
"He stares at you all the time! Just talk to him." Chrissy encouraged, once again here she was trying to get her best friend to just talk to Eddie.
"No way! He doesn't want some cheerleader coming up to him." Y/N argued. Eddie was not a fan of the popular crowd or people in general. She saw him shut down many girls before and she didn't want to be added to the list.
"And he probably thinks you wouldn't want him to walk up to you." Chrissy tried to reason with her. But Y/N shook her head.
~~~
"Dude, just talk to her. She's always looking at you. She wouldn't look in your direction if she disliked you." Steve groaned. There were only so many stories Steve could handle listening to about Y/N. But Eddie was too chicken to say anything to her.
"Probably because she thinks I'm a freak like the rest of the popular kids." Eddie groaned, slamming his dead down into his arms on the work counter.
"ow" Eddie said as he rubbed his forehead.
At first, Steve was happy to have Eddie join the family video store, but he didn't know all his shifts would be him talking about Y/N.
Eddie kept his head down as Steve continued to work. Once again his advice went straight out of Eddie's ear. Eddie felt Steve nudging him.... continuously.
"Can you not!" Eddie growled, picking up his head and using his hand to swat at Steve's arm. But then Steve nodded towards the door. Eddie looked and there she was.
Y/N giggled with Chrissy as they walked into the store. It was a Saturday morning, usually, no kids came in until the night shift. For once, Eddie was happy as hell he accepted a morning shift.
Eddie stared as she walked around the store. Her bright smile and pink glossy lips. Even though she was a few feet away, he could smell the sweetness of her perfume.
"Here's your chance! You're just being a helpful employee." Steve said, he shoved Eddie out from behind the counter. Pushing him in the direction of the girls.
"Hi, Eddie!" Chrissy said, loudly into Y/N's ear. A soft nudge from Chrissy as Y/N stood frozen. She bit her lip as she took in Eddie's band T-shirt, the green work vest, and his name tag. His vest was covered in pins of his favorite films. His black jeans and dirty white sneakers.
"Hi!" Eddie said, but his eyes stayed on Chrissy, he was terrified to even look at Y/N. He always felt like an idiot in that stupid work vest and now his crush had her eyes all over it.
"Horror movie fan! Y/N is too!" Chrissy observed from his vest, another nudge. But Y/N couldn't help but notice Eddie's eyes never once looked at her. Of course, he'd like Chrissy, she was perfect and so likable.
"That's sweet." Eddie coughed, his eyes moved to Y/N once, and went back to Chrissy. The small look was enough to make Eddie's heart race and his palms were drenched with sweat.
Eddie felt relief when his watch beeped.
"Time for my break, see ya." He gave a stiff nod and practically ran into the back. Neither girl had a chance to say goodbye.
"See! He barely looked at me." Y/N groaned.
~~~
Finally, the night arrived and Y/N planned to get drunk at Chrissy's party and ignore all the sad feelings she had about Eddie.
She was on the search for her first drink, eagerly pouring her red cup full. She threw in some ice and took in all the people in Chrissy's house.
~~~
Eddie was on his third drink of the night. His cousin Savannah was yapping in his ear about her date with Steve. But all Eddie could focus on was talking to Y/N. He knew he made an idiot of himself earlier and prayed the liquid courage would do all the work for him.
By the time Y/N worked her way into the living room, she found Eddie. But he wasn't alone.
A girl around his height stood across from him. She wore a T-shirt, which showed off her tattoos. She had piercings in her ears, nose, and lip. Y/N couldn't help but realize how much that girl was Eddie's type. The girl even had leather pants and a jacket around her waist. Thick black boots and dark nails. She was the perfect rockstar girlfriend.
Y/N gulped down her drink and raced to the front yard. She could barely see, the tears already welling in her eyes. It was all her fault anyway, Chrissy told her multiple times just to say something. And she refused, because of fear. Now Eddie could be free to anyone he wanted.
Eddie kept his eyes moving around the party and saw a split image of Y/N running out the front. Eddie wasn't sure if the alcohol did its job or if he was worried something happened to her, but he raced out the door behind her.
He found her on the curb, shivering as she held her body. Eddie carefully placed the jacket on her, her head snapped up as he took the spot next to her. He noticed silent tears streaming down her soft face.
"You okay?" He asked. She obviously didn't look okay, but always worth asking.
"Yeah! Just having a little moment." She tried to laugh it off. Even more embarrassed to be crying over a boy and he sat right next to her.
"We all have those! Maybe talking it out will help?" He offered.
"What's your type, Eddie?" Y/N asked, a bit of bitterness in her voice. Eddie was taken aback by the question and how snippy she sounded. "Because this morning, I swore you were checking out Chrissy, but now you are talking to this badass rocker chick. And I don't even know how I'm supposed to be either of them when they are both incredibly different." Y/N forgot how much of a lightweight she was, and hated how fast the liquor made her word vomit.
Eddie was in shock. He never thought he had a type, he just liked pretty girls. He never once thought Steve could be right about something, especially girls. But in this case, Steve was right.
"I wasn't checking out Chrissy. More of using Chrissy as a distraction from how scared I was to look at you. And the girl inside, her name is Savannah and she's my cousin. " Y/N loudly groaned as she covered her face.
"I'm an idiot!" She mumbled into her hands. Eddie laughed and gently removed her hands.
"No, you're not. It makes sense why you thought she'd be my type since she dresses like me and all. But my type is you. Not Chrissy, not rockstar chicks, fuck, not even another cheerleader. Because it's just you and it's always been just you." Eddie finally confessed. He couldn't believe just this morning he couldn't speak a word or look at her. But now he was confessing his love on a dirty curb with horny teenagers in the background.
"Just scared to talk to me?" Y/N asked.
"Yeah."
"I was too." Y/N smiled. But now she realized talking to Eddie was so easy. "I'm sorry for being jealous."
"Nothing to be sorry for. It was kinda hot." Eddie teased, a small wink as he threw his arm over her shoulder. The wink sent butterflies in her stomach as she giggled and moved closer to his body.
"How about a date? We can talk about all the things we were too scared to do." Eddie offered.
"I'd love that." Y/N smiled.
~~~
Steve smiled from the front door as he watched the two cuddle close.
Chrissy next to him with a proud smirk on her face.
"I did that." They said at the same time. Both dropped their smiles and looked at each other offended.
"You? No I did!" They said again at the same time.
"I DID!"
"I DID!"
Tags!
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elisiafarias · 4 months
Text
How would the Linkuei trío react when they found out that you were pregnant?Updated!!!
Sumary: pregnant Reader, Tomas, Bi han, Kuai Liang
Author's note: finally added all the boys
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❄️Bi han 花イ波❄️
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You were looking for your husband, you knew he could be training his new initiate.
However, you decided to go back to your room, you got nervous because you didn't know what his reaction would be, although you already knew your husband very well, this will change your lives a lot, and you were also afraid that he would be too strict with his future child.
You walked into your room and closed the door quickly.
You hadn't realized that Bi Han was already inside, he was changing his clothes. When you looked at him you froze.
He was bare-chested, While he was holding the top of his clothing in his hands, he began to raise an eyebrow.
-Wife.- He began to speak calmly but with a doubtful tone, he knew that something was wrong with you.
-Oh you were here *nervous laugh* I thought you were training Frost today.-You responded, trying to deflect the discomfort that your entry generated.
-We finished training early.- Your husband responded.
-Let me help you.- You told your husband trying to get him to give you his clothes to send to wash, however your husband's response was to take his clothes away from you.
-What's happening? - He asked with a frown.
-Nothing, I just wanted to come and rest, you know that yesterday I felt a little sick.- You respond him without looking at his eyes
-So you were feeling so bad that you came running?-He asked as if he wanted to get information from you, he already knew you were lying.
-Yeah, I was getting a little dizzy, I...I.-You couldn't finish talking
At that moment you didn't know why, but you began to feel so much pressure that your eyes began to water.You were afraid of everything in the future
Bi Han didn't know what he had done wrong, but internally he knew that his questioning of you triggered that reaction.
But strangely for you, he sat next to the bed and took your hand.You began to walk towards him while caressing his hand, and you sat on his lap.
-Tell me what happened- Your husband ask you as if someone had done something to you.
-I'm sorry for reacting like this, I'm a little sensitive...I spoke to the doctor today.-You began to speak.
Bi Han raised an eyebrow (again), he started to think that you were going to say that you have a serious illness.
-I'm pregnant.- You finaly said.
You saw a change in your husband's eyes, his eyes began to light up, it's the first time you've seen him excited like that.
Then he put his hand on your belly.
-He will be the first Lin kuei of our generation- He said with a sweet voice.
You began to caress his dark hair and then kissed his head.
-Remember the baby may be a girl too.- You said.
-I don't care this baby has the blood of a Linkuei... And is ours.- He responded proudly.
-Just try not to be so demanding with him.- You told him, he then looked at you.
-As you wish- Said your Husband.
Deep down you knew he wasn't being sincere, although you know he would try hard to work on it, and you would help him too.
But in the end you were happy, because you knew that you were the most important thing to your husband and he would love his future child unconditionally.
Tomas
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You were anxiously waiting for your husband, today you went to the town doctor to confirm your suspicions.
Even though you already knew it deep inside, the news gave you unexpected happiness, because you created a life with the man you loved, In the afternoon you took the time to buy a present for your husband, and planning all the words you were going to say to him.
It was already 7 pm and you had arrived at 5 pm, you were impatient, you knew that Tomas was training his new clan together with his brother, but this time the wait for you seemed eternal.
Until you could finally see your husband from the window in the distance, you prepared everything and hid.
-Hello, I'm here.- You heard Tomas say as he entered.
-Y/N? Where are you? -He asked worriedly, you were always there to receive him.
You laughed to yourself from your room.
Then Tomas saw a wrapped gift, with a note that said "for Tomas", inside the note it said, "I'm excited to meet you in the coming months." After reading it he still didn't understand anything.
Then you stood behind him and hugged him from behind.
-I'm so happy you're here.- you said excitedly. Your husband looked at you in disbelief.
-Yes…Well, I went alone for a few hours.- He answered.
You laughed and took the gift.
-I thought you understood the message, let's open it.- You told him, looking him straight in the eyes, trying to show where your emotion was coming from.
Your husband was still in disbelief, then he started to open the gift. When he opened it he realized that they were small shoes, and he came with a teddy bear.
He looked at the gift for a few seconds then raised his head and looked at you with lit up eyes.
-Wait… Tell me it's not a joke.- He said with a smile.
Then you took his hand and placed it on your belly.
-I would never joke with something like that my love.- You responded excitedly as you caressed his hand.
Tomas, after processing it for a second, hugged you and lifted you up carefully, giving you a spin. They both laughed with happiness.
Then he lowered you and stood at the height of your belly. Inside him he thought of all the happiness ahead. Tomas wanted to give his future son the same teaching that his adoptive father gave him.
-I will protect him with my life.- Your husband said while caressing your belly.You felt butterflies like the first time you fell in love with him.
-You have to live for us.- You replied, you didn't want to lose your husband.
He then got up to your height and kissed your forehead.
-I will.- He responded as he caressed your head.
-Come on, we have to tell Kuai Liang- he said while he headed to the door.
You laughed and took his hand.
-Honey, let's wait until tomorrow, your brother must be very busy with Harumi, remember that lately they have little time together.- You told your husband.
-Please, I'm impatient, I already want to tell him that we are going to expand the family- Tomas responded excitedly.
-Tomorrow we will tell him, we can have a lunch to tell him the news....¿What do you think? - You proposed to your husband, he just nodded his head.
-I prefer breakfast- your husband responded. You smiled
-Okay, we'll make breakfast and we'll tell them.-You responded defeated.
Then Tomas kissed you, you both felt like you were in love for the second time. Inside you felt that you couldn't have chosen a better husband.The universe and life smiled at you.
Kuai Liang 蒯良
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You went to look for your husband, you had to give him some very important news that you received this morning with the doctor, you wanted to wait for him to get home but just today he was taking too long.
It was already night so you went to Harumi's compound, since there they were training their new initiates, that boy Hanzo was very skilled for his age.
When you arrived you saw your husband in the distance, he was walking with Harumi… You didn't know whether to interrupt so you just managed to observe from afar. You knew that Harumi was not a bad person, but you were worried about the fact that she is so close to Kuai Liang, after everything that happened with Bi Han, she has given him all the help she has.
And the only thing you have been able to give him is only your loyalty. For this reason you feel insecure next to her, since you felt that you could not give him all that help to defeat his brother.
-Harumi, I want to thank you for everything you have done for me this time, your help turned out to be invaluable.-Your husband said as he put his hand on Harumi's shoulder.
She smiled. -It is the least I can do, since they have acted without honor, we cannot let their corruption continue.- She responded. Kuai Liang just smiled proudly.
-As a way of thanking you, I will name my clan with your last name, The shirai ryu.- Said your husband.
Those words felt like a dagger in the heart for you, however he was not being unfaithful to you, but for some reason that closeness and affection that he had for Harumi kept making you uncomfortable.
Was he falling in love with her? Would it be a good idea to tell him about your pregnancy now? Would he feel tied down by having a baby with you?
While you were thinking hidden in the tree, you didn't realize that a person stood behind you.
-¿Y/N, what are you doing here?.- You recognized that voice and your skin crawled, and your heart started beating very fast.
You looked at Kuai Liang and then at the place where he had been talking to his friend… he was already gone. ¿At what point had he said goodbye to Harumi?
-Husband *nervous laugh*, I didn't expect to find you so soon, I was bored and you weren't coming back so I thought I'd come see you.- You said very nervous.
The grand master looked at you strangely, he knew you were hiding something, but it seems like he ignored it.
-You shouldn't go out at this time, remember that you are convalescent.- He said. Then he took some bags that you were carrying in your hands.
Then they both started walking towards their home.
-Don't exaggerate, it's not like I would have gotten deathly ill.-You said with a smile, trying to calm the situation.
-Why did you buy so many things? There is enough food in the house, maybe we are celebrating something?.-Your husband asked.
You just raised both eyebrows, you did it on purpose to play with him.
-I do not know you tell me.- You answered with a smile.
-You know we don't celebrate birthdays.- He responded a little nervously. You started to laugh
-Do you think my birthday is today? When is my birthday?.-You asked playfully. Even though you know they didn't celebrate their birthdays, you never told him yours.
It gave you too much tenderness to see how your husband was confused.
As you two walked across the bridge, you stopped walking.
-It will be someone else's birthday in 9 months.-You finally said.
Then you saw how the grandmaster turned to see you with a confused look.Then he approached you
-What?.- He ask still confused, apparently he is beginning to understand the message.
-There's something of yours growing inside me.- You said while touching your belly.
Kuai Liang looked at you with an excited smile and his eyes lit up. He threw the bags
-Is this for real? .- He asked with a soft tone of voice, while he began to caress your head with his hands.
-Yes…I'm really sorry, I know that in these circumstances it is not good to bring children, you have your priority to find your brother, restore the honor of the Lin.-You were interrupted by the grand master who began to kiss your forehead.
Then he joined his forehead with yours while caressing you.
-It is the best news I have ever received.-He responded, then hugged you.-If my father were alive, this news would fill him with happiness, being a grandfather, he always talked to me about the responsibilities of a father.
-I am sure that you will honor his memory, you will be a great father just like he was to you.-You said as you caressed his cheek. He took your hand and planted a kiss on it.
Then upon arriving home, he decided to cook with you for the first time while hugging you from behind and caressing your belly. The next few weeks and months he banned you from almost all training, he only let you practice hitting, and unfortunately he kept you out of the whole conflict with Bi Han, but you couldn't debate him because you knew he did it to protect you two.
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wispythreads · 5 months
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I did catch on to that part of it with him bouncing between jobs so frequently, and some of the other things like the fridge freezer, but they were still included in the jumbled up thoughts I listed out partly because I was thinking about them before coming to an answer, and partly because I'm not fully sure if those answers are all there is to it.
Cause, yeah, there’s the newspaper clipping rebuking him for being “unprofessional and brash” (which damn that’s also just rotating in my head because Vince was clearly reading this specific clipping earlier and blatantly lied saying Rody hadn’t been mentioned at all, later scribbling out the section talking about the waiter), he’s very clearly messy and unkempt in pretty much every aspect of his life, and even if he gets the to-go question right in the tutorial, Vince appends the "Good work." with "keep tone in mind."
But, the thing is, he does know a lot of the basics. Much of the tutorial is really just for the benefit of the player to know how the mechanics of the game works, Rody meanwhile nods along and does whatever task is needed without comment, only getting tripped up when Vince mentions the way the menu for his bistro works, and when the aforementioned customer asked if he could get boxes to go or call in his order ahead of time. Which I think are reasonable things to get tripped up on! Those seem like things that would vary depending on the establishment he was working for.
I keep thinking about his reaction when Vince pivoted the conversation of "do you actually like your job" onto Rody. His awkward response that it paid him money. Vince voicing specifically “I doubt you wanted to wait tables for a living-”, and that being met with how there was “something” Rody went to school for, that he was too hesitant to tell Vince, feeling he’d get made fun of. The impression that its some passion he had that just didn't work out. The revelation later that the “something” in question was him majoring in hospitality.
He was afraid he'd be made fun of for actively going to school and choosing to study for skills that, either ironically or purposefully, would've been useful for his current job of waiting tables. A goal that he flunked out of. He has had 28 jobs in the service industry over the course of 7 years. He keeps losing his job, but he also keeps getting hired.
I keep thinking of the post-credits scene of the Best Served Hot, whisky lemon cake ending. "I can't keep watching you ruin any semblance of progress you make with yourself while trying to make me happy, it's exhausting-"
He's only 4 days into this job when he approaches Vince for a raise. He already figures he'll have enough to do something nice for Manon, his "girlfriend," by the end of the week, but he wants more to make it really special. He is very clearly told 'no.'
On the 5th day, when his shift is finally over and done, we don't next see him as we usually do, back at his apartment. He's still at the bistro, all the lights turned out. The only other person presumably being Vince hacking away at the meat in the freezer that'll be used for the meals in the morning. The first time I went through that night, I presumed Rody had just been selected to stay late and help clean up for the night, with whatever Vince was doing in the background ominous horror ambience to be unsettled by.
But we can't really do anything while there that would support this initial assumption. There are only two things you can do. Snoop around in Vince's office, and... steal from the cash register. Whether you avoid doing the latter as I did or not, it has no bearing on whatever ending you get, but just the fact that it's even an option to Rody...
How many other times did he allow his love for Manon to rule over his decisions, making choices in the pursuit of what he believed would make her happy, no matter the cost, before finally facing a price for his obsession beyond the scope of his worst nightmares?
...
And after all that I do want to defend the rollerskates a bit because
Rollerskates in restaurants are kinda a thing, in the 1960s (the year this game is set) they were a pretty popular gimmick/tool for diners in the U.S. at least, not sure about elsewhere in the world unfortunately
Yeah he canonically brought and proceeded to wear rollerskates to work at a fancy bistro. But that also means Vince watched him show up to work one day, wearing rollerskates, and just let him do it. Just watched Rody roll around his fancy bistro attending to customers that expect the highest of professionalism, and said nothing.
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roosterforme · 3 months
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Always Ever Only You Part 23 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: Bradley realizes there's some good news and some bad news. The good news is he's deeply in love with his wife who likes to be adventurous in the bedroom. And the bad news from the mechanic? He'd actually rather not mention that to you.
Warnings: Swearing, smut, anal play, anal sex, fluff, mentions of mission details
Length: 5200 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader
This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order. Always Ever Only You masterlist. Gorgeous banner by @mak-32
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"Bradley! What did you do?!"
Your shitty little car's center console was loose, propped up by Bradley's booted foot like it was on a hinge. If he moved his foot up, the whole thing went with it. "I didn't do anything," he replied, removing his foot and letting the large piece of your car interior settle back down like he was completely innocent here. 
You reached up from his lap and moved the console with your hands, and you gasped at the result. "You destroyed it!" Then you lifted it up higher and turned back to him with flashing eyes. "I can see the ground through the gigantic hole in my car!"
He winced. If you were upset when your car ended up in the shop last year while he was using it, you'd almost certainly be even more pissed off because of this. "I'll take it to my mechanic on Monday. He fixed it for you last time."
You nodded with some uncertainty, but you wrapped him up in your arms and kissed him. "Yeah... he fixed it last time. I'm just happy you're home. I made Marry Me Rooster and birthday cake for you." Bradley was practically panting at the feel of your fingers pushing back through his hair again. "And we can relax all day tomorrow." 
For the first time in a week, he felt calm and sated. The adrenaline rush had finally worn off a bit, and right now he was exhausted. It was nearly midnight. His birthday was almost over. But if you wanted him to eat dinner and have cake with you at one in the morning, he would. 
"Let's go home," he whispered. With one more kiss, you opened the back door and climbed off of his lap. When Bradley went to follow suit, he hit his head on the door frame and nearly landed on his face. "Fuck," he grunted, rubbing the top of his head. Great. Your car was poised and ready for revenge. He was going to offer to drive just in case there was something truly wrong with the thing, but he was a little afraid. He asked anyway. "You want me to drive?"
You just gave him a look. "I think you've done enough, Roo. And even though I love you, my car does not."
"That's fair." He kissed your forehead and yawned as he walked around to the passenger side. The engine started up for you without any issue, but it took you and him both pulling on the shifter to get it into reverse. And then your car made a horrible loud noise as you backed out of the parking spot. 
Bradley had a very bad feeling about this.
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It took you twice as long to get home as it should have. Your car sounded like it was begging for mercy every time you so much as tapped the gas pedal. It was a strage, loud whirring sound, and Bradley was looking at you with big, innocent baby cow eyes. 
There was a gap between the center console and the floor of your car, and you wondered how on earth he managed to push on it hard enough to rip it clean off like that. It was almost comical. You husband was huge, and he'd apparently put all of his size into fucking you just right. 
You laughed as you pulled into the driveway next to the Bronco. "So you're not too mad?" he asked quietly as he helped you push the shifter again.
"I'm not mad," you promised. "Your mechanic can fix it next week. We'll just need to share the one car until then."
Bradley leaned in to kiss you and said, "I will take care of it, Sweetheart." 
Once you made it to the front door, his lips were all over your neck as you tried to unlock it. He was being sweet and soft now even though you were sure he could tell you were flustered with need again. Even the rough fabric of his duffel rubbing against your leg was almost too much. "I love you," he murmured against your earlobe as you finally pushed the door open. But you could tell he was tired, and you weren't the only one who was excited to see him. 
Tramp came bounding out onto the porch, whimpering and whining as Bradley knelt and got his face licked. "Yeah, I missed you, too," he told the dog as he carried him inside. "Did you have fun with mommy?" Tramp kept running to his leash and begging, but Bradley said, "I'm not taking you for a walk in the middle of the night. We can go tomorrow."
"Are you hungry?" you asked, feeling a little silly for getting yourself so excited to feed your husband when it was so late. But you made a huge batch of Marry Me Rooster, and of course he insisted he wanted his birthday meal. 
"I'm always hungry for this and for you," he said, pulling you onto his lap at the dining room table. He took a bite of chicken and grunted softly, and you leaned in to kiss along his cheekbone as he chewed. He had dark circles under his eyes, and you knew he was going to need to rest tomorrow.
"You want to tell me about your super secret special mission?" you asked him while he ate. He took a few more bites and set his fork down with a sigh before he answered. 
His voice was careful as he said, "I really can't say much, even to you."
Your eyebrows shot up and your hands shook a little as you played with his hair. "Was it successful?"
"Yes," he replied immediately, which took the chill out of your body. "We had to... aid in hostage retrieval."
"Oh my god," you whispered, wrapping your arms around his chest and snuggling against him. You knew better than to ask for any more details than that. If the stakes were that high, no wonder he came back a bit of a needy mess. You could just imagine him on the aircraft carrier after completing his flight, adrenaline thrumming through his body. You rubbed your hand along his side as he finished the rest of the food on his plate.
"Thanks for my birthday dinner."
You smiled at him. "I'm just happy you're home. Do you want to save the cake and your present for tomorrow?"
"Please." His voice was soft, and his eyes closed against the feel of your fingers. You led him to the bedroom, taking the time to dig his toothbrush out of his duffle so he could get ready for bed. His new notebook was in there as well, and you flipped through it to see that he'd filled about a third of it up with his writing. But you could save that for later. 
You pulled your dress over your head and tossed it in the hamper as Bradley walked back into the bedroom from the bathroom. "Ready for bed?" you asked, standing there completely naked. He just examined every inch of you, his eyes taking you in. It never really occurred to you to be self conscious around him, and when he brought his hand up to rub his cock through his boxer briefs, your lips parted on a soft sound. 
He slowly raised his left hand which was hanging at his side, and as soon as he pointed at the bed, you were in it. Bradley stepped out of his underwear and left them in the middle of the floor, his hand wrapped around his cock as he climbed right on top of you. "Yeah?" he rasped with a grin. You supposed even through his exhaustion, he still had a little left in the tank for you, and you couldn't help but smile up at him. 
"Yes." You spread your legs wide, and he buried himself inside you, uncaring that he'd filled you up barely two hours ago and left you a mess. He was doing it again, and he was doing it oh so well.  
"Missed you," he whispered, the snap of his hips making you moan. "Missed our bed and your body and your pretty face." You watched as he took his silicone ring off and tossed it aside while he fucked you. Then his lips dipped down to your breasts before they found his wedding band where it rested against the front of your neck on your chain. 
He fucked you until he came, kissing and licking the ring, bucking his cum deeper inside you with his eyes closed. You rolled him onto his back and sat up with him still buried deep. He was all soft smiles and comically boneless limbs beneath you as he stroked your thighs. "Can I have my ring?"
You reached for the clasp of your chain and slid it past your pretty charms. Then you secured your necklace once more before reaching for his left hand. You slipped it on his finger and kissed him there as he caressed your cheek. But his eyes were already closed, and he was sound asleep by the time you went to the bathroom to get cleaned up.
-------------------------------
When Bradley opened his eyes, his stomach was growling so loudly, he thought that might have been what woke him up. He was so damn comfortable, finally back in his own bedroom. "Baby Girl?" he rasped, wanting to just go back to sleep, but needing you with him. 
Then he noticed the absolutely delicious smell coming from the kitchen and groaned. His stomach was growling so much, it hurt as he climbed out of bed and stretched. He found you a moment later cooking pancakes and bacon while sipping some coffee in his old UVA shirt. Tramp was on the floor begging his little heart out. When you saw Bradley you smiled, and he wrapped himself around you from behind, enveloping you in his arms. He could tell you were still fresh from your shower, and Bradley couldn't get enough.
"Are you hungry?" you whispered as he kissed along your neck. 
"Starving," he replied, stomach growling loudly. "And I missed you in bed."
You rubbed yourself back gently against his naked body as you said, "You can rest and eat all day today. We've got nothing planned. I thought I'd feed you breakfast and let you take a long shower and then a nap."
He sighed next to your ear, feeling completely relaxed. This was all he really needed right now. You and he had worked on every little detail of your marriage until you were on the same page about what was important. The successful completion of Operation Loophole had him feeling pretty good about going back to base tomorrow. But today, the only thing he wanted was you. 
You sat perched on his thigh as you finished your coffee while he ate. "What did I miss here while I was gone?"
"Just Jake almost fucking things up completely," you replied, biting into a piece of toast. "Oh, and I'm trying to get Bob to move in with Maria."
"The fuck?" he asked with a laugh. "As in, Bob would move into your old bedroom?"
"Yep."
"Sweetheart. Your old bedroom? We did some fucking  nasty stuff in there together."
You erupted into laughter. "He doesn't need to know that."
Bradley looked at you like you had two heads. "I'm sure he already does."
"Poor Bob." You kissed his cheek and whispered, "Do you want some birthday cake for dessert?"
"I get dessert after breakfast?" he asked, somehow perking up even more over this perfect homecoming.
"You get whatever you want for your thirty seventh birthday," you replied as you stood and headed for the kitchen, letting Bradley see a peek of your gorgeous ass beneath his shirt. And in that instant, it was the only thing he wanted. He groaned and let his head tip back. 
"Fuck." His heart was beating a little faster as he thought about tasting you there, touching you and fucking you there. You'd let him put his mouth anywhere he wanted last year on his birthday, and during your honeymoon, he'd enjoyed that particular part of your body again. But his cock was twitching, and now he was kind of mad you'd just proverbially offered up anything his horny heart desired. Because he was going to have to ask you for it. 
There was no way you didn't notice he was half hard when you walked back in holding a confetti cake with your other hand behind your back. "Oh. My favorite. Thanks." His voice was bland as you set it down in front of him before pulling a lemon cake from behind your back. 
"I was just messing with you with the confetti cake," you said with a laugh, bouncing back into the kitchen again. This time Bradley landed a little smack on your ass that left you giggling and looking at him over your shoulder in surprise. "I said the confetti cake was a joke, Roo," you told him with a wink.
This time when you came back, you had one single birthday candle and a lighter along with two forks. As you stuck the candle in the lemon cake and lit it, he asked, "Are you going to sing to me?"
"Of course," you whispered, kissing his cheek before settling on his thigh, your hip grazing his cock. Then you proceeded to wrap your arms around his neck, licking and kissing along his scars as you sang to him like you were Marilyn Monroe and he was JFK. You were giggling and enjoying yourself, and it shouldn't have been as hot as it was, but Bradley hoisted you up to straddle both of his legs as you finished singing.
You gave him a little squeak as you settled against his cock, and he got his mouth on yours right away. He ran his hand up under your shirt to where your Rooster tattoo was and caressed you there, but he was cupping your ass with his other hand. "Roo," you moaned into his mouth as he teased both of your holes. "You're still all keyed up, Daddy?"
"A little," he told you, surprised to find that he was again. He blew out his birthday candle which had burned almost all the way down, while he kept his fingers on you. 
"You want your cake or your present?" you asked softly. 
"Aren't you my present?" 
You smirked. "I got you something else, too."
"I want it."
When you climbed off his lap, Bradley reached for you, but you were already walking toward the bedroom. "Take a shower, Roo. I'll get it ready for you."
So Bradley stood under the stream of water, first cold and then hot. He was afraid to touch himself too much, because he really needed you. And his curiosity was piqued. What did you get for him? And why did you need to get it ready? 
Oh. He had asked you for another calendar. Another sexy pinup calendar featuring you, you and you. "Shit," he grunted, running his hands through his hair to make sure all the conditioner was out before turning off the water. He barely dried himself off before charging back into the bedroom. He was about to call for you when you popped up behind him and put your hands over his eyes. 
"Close them," you commanded. "And no peeking."  
"I wouldn't dream of it," he replied, going slightly crazy at your touch. You let go of his face, and he kept his eyes closed as you guided him by his shoulders until he was pretty sure he was standing in the bedroom doorway looking out into the hallway. Then you placed something in his hands.
He heard you cackle as you let go of him and said, "Okay, you can open your eyes and unwrap your gift, but don't turn around. 
Bradley had the pretty red and yellow wrapping paper off in a flash, and it fell near his feet as he moaned. He read the cover out loud. "The Bronco and Baby Girl." Oh fuck. He'd never make it through this thing. 
"Okay, now open it to January," you called out from behind him. He did, and it was a photo of you laying on the hood of the Bronco in the red bikini from the honeymoon. "Do you like it?"
"I fucking love it," he promised, his eyes roaming the high quality photograph. You looked like a real model, there was no doubt about that. "It's stunning."
You laughed and said, "Now look at February." He flipped the page and moaned at the sight of you sitting in the driver's seat wearing your skimpy red lingerie. "Now tell me which month you like better."
He flipped back and forth between the two before ultimately saying, "February. And it's a fucking shame it doesn't have thirty one days, honestly."
Your laughter filled the room and made him smile as he looked at March. You were wearing his aviators and little else. "You still like February?"
"Shit. I might like March the best now."
"How about April?" you asked, and Bradley was having a lot of fun with this game. 
"Oh, that's nice," he remarked at the photo of you bent over his tailgate. He was currently having an existential crisis over your ass, and this wasn't helping. 
"Why don't you keep going until you get to your favorite one, and then you can turn around."
"Alright," Bradley said, clearing his throat as he turned to May, which was one of you wearing the little dress you had on when you picked him up last night. You were laying on the backseat, and your tits looked like they were going to come free from the fabric. 
But when he turned to June, you were topless. You were sitting in the back on the tailgate with your hands tucked behind your head wearing nothing but the shortest denim cutoffs he'd ever seen. You were facing the side with your upper body turned toward the camera. Your back was arched, your tits were jutting out, and your nipples were hard. The photo also somehow captured the perfect shape of your ass, and it was quite possibly the hottest thing he'd ever seen in his life. 
"June," he announced. "It's June, Baby Girl. It's my favorite one." And when he turned around, you were on the bed posed exactly like you were in the calendar, but you were smirking. Because you knew him. You knew he'd stop on June. You knew he'd fucking short circuit over that particular one. And now it was right in front of him in real life. 
He tossed his calendar carefully onto the dresser as he inched forward, looking at you in those denim shorts at every angle as you bit your lip. "I knew you'd pick June," you whispered, and he leaned in to kiss your shoulder. Then he ran his palm down along your spine until his hand was on your ass. 
"You know me so well," he rasped, climbing onto the bed with you. "Thanks for my calendar." He licked your right nipple before pulling your left one between his lips and sucking gently. You whined his name, and your hands were immediately in his hair. 
"You're welcome," you gasped your hips rolling as he cupped your pussy gently through your shorts. He worked the button open and unzipped them as he kissed his way up to your neck, and you asked him, "Any special requests, birthday boy?"
But you knew. Somehow you fucking knew. You got on your hands and knees facing the headboard and wiggled your ass at him until he pulled your shorts down and helped you out of them. And then that was it. You were bare for him. He ran his hands up your soft thighs and up along your butt. He kissed you all over before he got on his knees and leaned his body over yours until his lips were right next to your ear.
"I do have a request."
He felt you shiver as he bucked involuntarily against your core. "Tell me." 
You turned your head to look at him. His voice was a harsh whisper. "I want your ass, Baby Girl."
You moaned and rolled your hips back against him, nearly sending him through the roof. "What do you want to do?"
He kissed your cheek and tried to take a deep breath. "I want to do anything that you want to do. And if you don't want to do anything, then that's fine, too." He was panting as he kissed along your shoulder and your back, unable to stop himself from pressing against you over and over.
"Do you want to fuck me in the ass, Roo?" you asked so sweetly, he thought he was going to black out. "Because if so, you need to get the lube from the nightstand. And you need to go very slow. And you need to stop if I tell you it hurts."
"Holy fucking hell," he groaned, wrapping his arms around you and caressing your tits and your belly. "Yeah?"
"Yes."
He practically fell off the bed in his excitement. Other than using your toys, you and he had never done this together or separately, but he was ready to go. You didn't even look hesitant as you folded your arms on the pillow and let your head come to rest as you spread your legs a little wider. "It's like your birthday tradition now," you said with a little laugh as he dug around for the lube. 
"Wonder what you'll let me have next year," he asked, kissing your lips before climbing back on the bed with the small tube. He needed to calm down, so he angled himself to get at your pussy with his mouth from behind. Within seconds, he had you gasping for him, and his mustache was soaking wet. He licked you up and down, swirling his tongue around one hole before slowly dragging it to the other. Your hips were held firmly in his hands as you rolled back against him for more pressure, crying out when you let you have it only on his terms. 
"Bradley!" you whined. 
"Shh," he whispered, licking along your pussy with a grin. "On your birthday, you can have whatever you want."
You were going to be tight. Even as he painted you up with your own wetness, and worked the tip of his thumb into your asshole, watching the stretch with fascination as you groaned his name, he could tell. He grunted as he flipped open the lube and coated his cock with it, never taking his lips off you.
"I'm so close," you moaned, pressing yourself back against his mouth as he played with your clit. And when you eventually came for him, he brought his slick hand up and worked his thumb a little deeper this time. 
"Do you want me to stop?" he asked, kissing your lower back and pausing. 
"No. Keep going."
----------------------------
It took Bradley a while even though you were relaxed from your orgasm. It didn't hurt, but you needed him to go slow so you could be sure of this new sensation. First his thumb. Then his cock. 
"Oh my god," you whined, your eyes squeezed shut at just how full you were. You could feel the cool drizzle of lube hitting your body before your husband's hands returned to your hips in the gentlest caress. The stretch was almost too much as he moaned and whispered your name behind you over and over again. "Go slow," you reminded him when his thrusts started coming faster, and he took care of everything you needed.
Bradley's words were becoming unintelligible. He said something about his birthday before he told you he loved you. The soft glide from the extra lubrication was aided as you flattened your back out, and then Bradley gasped, "It feels so good. Too fucking good."
When he pushed a little deeper, you grunted, ready to tell him that was far enough. But you didn't need to worry. You could feel him slowly easing back out of you until that foreign feeling of being filled to the brim eased up and then vanished. Bradley yanked your body up so you were standing on your knees in front of him. His sweaty forehead came to rest on your shoulder as he panted and vigorously jerked off, his hand working along his cock between your body and his. 
"Sweetheart," he moaned as he coated up your back and butt with his cum. "Fuck. Fuck!" He felt him run his hand through the sticky mess before he wrapped his big arms around to the front of you.
"Did you like that?"
He took a few deep breaths before his lips and mustache were tickling your ear. "I love everything we do together. I love you."
You felt warm all over from his words and his body, and he held you tight for a long time just like that as he caught his breath. 
"I didn't hurt you, did I?" he asked, slipping off the bed and pulling you carefully with him. You didn't feel sore, exactly. You were just more aware of everything as you moved slowly. 
"No," you promised, shaking your head at him. He helped you pull on his UVA shirt before he carried you back to the kitchen. "I'm just a little tired. You wear me out more than my toys do."
He laughed as he set you down and took the leftover Marry Me Rooster out of the refrigerator. "I feel like your butt is for special occasions?"
Now you were laughing. "Like your birthday?" 
"Yeah. Like my birthday. Now let's eat together and have my cake and take a bath. Then maybe you can replicate the rest of the calendar photo poses for me to see in person?"
"Oh. You really liked that."
"I really liked that."
-------------------------
Bradley held you against his chest in the bathtub. It was late now, and the bathroom was lit by one single candle in the darkness as he sang to you. He was relaxed, soothed by the feel of your hand on his thigh, and when you turned and smiled up at him, he kissed you. 
"Don't forget, my parents are coming in a few days."
He'd already forgotten. The special mission and then coming home to you had clouded his brain and made him a little shortsighted, but not in a bad way. He loved your parents. "Right," he said with a nod. "Sounds good."
"And we'll have to leave earlier tomorrow morning so you can follow me to the mechanic."
He'd forgotten about that, too. Fuck. Your car was your favorite possession. Bradley truly did not understand the appeal, but you'd had the stupid thing forever. "Sure," he grunted, already nervous again. You nuzzled his cheek and then stood in front of him, and he leaned in to kiss along your ass while you giggled. 
Today had been perfect. Last night, too. Other than breaking your car, Bradley was just happy to be home. It didn't really matter to him that you'd given him a little birthday celebration and agreed to try something new in bed, being with you was the most important thing. You and he had spent a lot of time apart over the past year and a half, and he was hoping that the successful mission might help shape the trajectory of his career to make things a little easier in that regard. Especially if you did get pregnant on your own, or if a conversation about alternative options took place in the future.
Bradley eventually fell asleep with you draped across his chest. He read to you from his new notebook, but he skipped the pages about his dream where you were pregnant. It felt like too much for tonight. He turned the light off, and your hand found his tattoo like it was a magnet for you. Even though he was exhausted, his mind was swirling as he tried to fall asleep. 
Monday morning was a rush to get out of the house on time, and when you started your little piece of shit car on the driveway, it made such a distressing sound, Bradley almost insisted you get it towed instead. But you backed it out onto the road, and he followed you to his mechanic. 
"I'm scared," you told him when you dropped the keys off at the front desk. "It sounds really sick this time." He had to kiss away the crease along your brow.
"Let's just play it by ear," he told you, taking your hand and leading you back to the Bronco. He patted your ass in your uniform pants as you climbed in, and he buckled your seatbelt. "How are you feeling today anyway?" he asked with a smirk that you kissed off his face. 
"If you're referring to my butt, I'm a little sore," you told him, running your fingers along his scars. "But I'll be interested in the next special occasion." He climbed in with you and gave you sloppy kisses as you laughed. "Roo! We'll be late for work. I have a meeting with Bickel at nine."
"Aww, you can be late. Just tell him we were talking about your ass."
"Bradley," you snorted. "I will not."
He kissed you one more time before climbing off of you and closing the door. The drive to base was short, and you held his hand the whole way. He had to keep turning the radio volume up as you sang along badly, but you just kept getting louder with it. 
"You're a nightmare," he informed you when he parked and killed the engine. "And god, I fucking love you so much." The way you kissed him made him want to put the key back in the ignition and drive you home to bed. Your hand was just about on his cock in his khakis when you pulled away. 
"Gotta run!" He watched you stroll off toward the side entrance, waving at him coyly over your shoulder as he adjusted himself and headed for the locker room. 
Bradley's day was going great. He was happy to see Nat, and he was looking forward to having lunch with you if you could get away from your lab. But when he checked his phone around noon as he walked to the cafeteria, he had a new voicemail from the mechanic. He could see you in line for your burrito bowl as you chatted with Bob. He could practically hear you laughing as he played the message and cringed.
"Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw, give me a call back. The car is totaled."
------------------------------
Oop. I can see the tears flowing already. Fix this, Bradley. Parents are visiting soon. So many things are happening soon. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls
PART 24
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fan-goddess · 11 months
Note
Helloooo love! I'm a fan lurking in the dark with a request idea for Aemond x Reader. Would love to see your take on Aemond trying to win Reader back (his wife) after she found out about Alys. Maybe this happens after the "Dance" , Aemond survives and they have to deal with the aftermath of Alys. Reader loved him with everything she had so she feels betrayed and turns cold to him and maybe because of Alys, something also happened to her (idk lost pregnancy perhaps but PLEASE exclude this if you don't feel comfortable writing it). Basically take everything you find interesting from this request and work your magic - I trust you like no other!!! Thank you I send you all the love there is - you are very very talented and please know there are many like me that think you are truly brilliant, I know it!!! :*:*
Authors Note: Oh my god thank you this is so freakin sweet! 🥺 I’m happy to take the request and spin my take on this, hope you enjoy it! :)
Also, some of the stuff Is made up like the time between Daemons death and end of the war. I don’t know it so I made it up. If you don’t like it take it up with my dms
Word count: 2.6K
Warnings: Cheating, miscarriage though it’s not explicit, she’s kinda depressed? Not sure how to describe it,
Taglist: @blue-serendipity
The Sequels: The Depressive one, The happy One
—————
If Aemond ever regretting not killing anyone throughout the war he technically started, most would’ve immediately assumed that he wished he never killed his nephew. Though they were wrong. Yes, Lucerys’ death became one of the many causes of the war and in turn deaths of so many people, but his death didn’t result in the loss of you and your child.
Alys’ death could’ve though.
When he first met Alys, he had been nearly immediately enraptured and enamoured by had. She was quite different to you. While you had always been headstrong and never afraid to tell Aemond what he needed to do or to be, Alys had been more docile and had no issue in telling Aemond all the things he wanted to hear.
He regretted the first time he laid with Alys in his bed. Though that regret went away the more time he spent with her and the more times he laid with her. He begun to think of possibly taking after Aegon the conqueror, thinking he’d have both you and Alys by his side when Aegon most likely drank himself to death.
That fantasy was soon ruined when he got that letter.
Dear Aemond,
Do you think of me as a fool? I know about that fucking woman Aemond. I know about Alys. I don’t know why you have decided to betray our marriage and honestly, I don’t think care I can bring myself to think about it nor care anymore. This letter was originally going to be happy. A letter letting you know what we prayed near everyday from the seven had finally come true and been answered. I was with child. Our child made purely of what I had thought was love. Though that changed when I was informed of what you had done. I mourned for what we could’ve had. I cried and refused to believe it at first, though soon I came to my senses. Yet it was too late. Our child is dead Aemond. I woke up a few days ago to heavy blood staining our bedsheets. The child was barely two months according to the maester. I wish for you to know it is your fault Aemond. I do not wish to ever see you again. I wish to never hear from you so if you attempt to reconcile or send a letter I will pay for our child’s blood with your own. You have dug your grave Aemond. Don’t try and dig it deeper. If you are to die in battle, I hope it is painful. I hope you suffer like I have.
From, your wife
From your former wife
Aemond had felt his heart plummet to the floor when he read that letter. He could not stop the tears that fell to the floor and stained the letter he still was holding. The ink blotting and staining the page so much the words were becoming near illegible.
He attempted to head into battle with the faint hope that you’d forgive him if he killed his uncle. Though even he knew deep down that no amount of deaths could fix anything. Yet even still he tried. He defeated Daemon, with blood of which Targaryen man he did not know staining and pooling on his ripped armour.
Aemond came home where he was met with his mother and brother, who both congratulated him on his victory. Though even with their congrats he could see the disgust that lingered in his mothers gaze as she looked at him. It made his shame all that more prominent.
He would’ve gone to see you, but Aegon stopped him before he could, claiming he was holding a feast in his name for the defeat of Daemon. He tried to look for you in the amount of people that came, yet he couldn’t. And he didn’t dare ask his mother if you would be coming in fear of her glare and disappointment.
That night he wonders something. Maybe it would’ve been better if he did die by the hand of his uncle? Then it would’ve saved him from all this torture. Though he can’t say he didn’t deserve it. Aemond can only wallow in his drinks that he keeps being given and his own sorrow.
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Aemond was back home. The words the maids said echoed in your head. He’s here, and no doubt going to attempt to reconcile. If there was one thing you ever learnt about your husband, was that he never quit at anything he started.
You already made bets with yourself on how he’d attempt to do it.
Maybe he’ll try flowers? No that’s too much of a common move for Aemond to pull… Maybe he’ll bring you some jewellery? No that’d make him feel like he was buying for your forgiveness. Like he was buying something for a mistress. Well… he’s been there and done that…
There is always the chance Aemond will not even attempt to reconcile. Hopefully becoming too overcome by the grief and pain of the loss of his and your child that he’d respect your wishes after reading your own pain on paper. The maids still look at you worriedly, especially when they find you sitting near the window. You know why they worry, you mourned Helaena and Jahaerys and you know you will not become like her.
Aegon was also the one who told you about Alys, and when you lost your child and screamed for the whole of the castle to hear, it was Aegon who ran to you to mourn with you and hold you while you cried for a life you may have been able to have. He held you in the way a brother would hold a sister. He even cried with you and helped clean you of the blood. Oh the blood…
———
It’s been a few long months, but the war between the greens and the blacks is finally over. Aegon is celebrating by holding a massive banquet and all the lord and ladies who supported him are invited. Even though Aemond knows it will not happen, he secretly hopes you will come to celebrate.
Though as he keeps sneaking glances at the door all night he eventually comes to term with the fact you’re not coming. He can only swallow more bitter wine and ignore the fact he’s drinking it like a fish in water now.
He’s attempted to reconcile from a distance ever since the incident but everything he has sent to your chambers has come back in shreds. The flowers from the garden you loved to look after, heads torn from their stems and cut into a thousand pieces. The books he sent on your favourite topic, you had more restraint on them and simply chucked them from your window onto unsuspecting bystanders bellow.
Aegon told him delightfully how after he delivered the books to you, they were seen immediately thrown from the window and one had supposedly managed to hit one knight straight on the head, effectively knocking him out cold.
Though if anything those small acts of defiance made Aemond wish to reunite and return to you even more. It reminded him just why he fell in love with you in the first place. Your wit and your wisdom made him fall head over heals for you, literally.
He had tripped in front of you and some other ladies of the court due to the load of books he was carrying. He had not yet gotten used to the visual impairments the loss of his eye provided and did not see the thrown goblet in his path. Aemond had effectively turned scarlet when the ladies began to mockingly giggle at him, it nearly made his heart beat straight from his chest when he saw you come to his help. “You need to get some help with those. It’s not that bad to ask for help you know? Means you aren’t a stubborn twat.” You grin.
He wished he could go back to those days. They were simpler. They held no knowledge of the war they would face. It held no knowledge of the bastard from Harrenhal.
Aemond had not tried to reunite with you in person. He knew you’d most definitely follow through with your threat and spill his blood. It’s why he attempted to send you items instead through the maids. Though it’s very obvious those weren’t working either. That’s when he got the idea to write you letters. There was easily a chance that you would burn them or tear them the moment you saw the writing. Yet even then Aemond knew he had to try…
———
“Princess. I have another item sent from the prince for you.” One of the maids said as she carefully approached your bed. The sun had already hit its peak that day, though you could not bring yourself to get out of bed. The only time you could bring yourself too was either with the help of your maids, or when Aemond sent a supposed gift to you which you’d immediately destroy.
“What is it this time?” You sigh. “Is it something that I am supposed to eat? Because if it is i’d like it if you took to the servants quarters and give it to them and not-“
“It’s not food related my princess. It’s a letter.” When you look towards the maid you can see the sad expression clear on her face. This maid has brought you many of Aemonds attempts at reconciliation.
“What is your name?” It does not give you any sort of pleasure when the maid looks shocked at the fact a princess is asking for the name of a maid. “Its not a trick question I want to know your name.”
“Klarisa my princess. My name is Klarissa.”
“Klarisa do you think I should read the letter my bastard of a husband as written to me?” You look carefully at Klarisas face, the decision of your lifetime hanging in a mere maids hands.
“To be honest with you my lady…” Klarisa takes a deep breath and puts on a sympathetic face. You appreciate that she wishes to give you honesty, though that sympathetic face makes you want to punch her. “What the prince did was inexcusable after the way the two of you acted before… her. You got to have a husband who loves you and cared for you, that itself is much more than most of the women who are forced into a marriage can hope for. The prince is trying to make up for it and is also respective your boundaries. Not many could say that they got to have a husband who did even one of those things. So yes my princess, I believe you should read the letter.” You take a deep breathe and loosen your hands, which seemed to have clenched so tightly your nails all but pierce into your palms.
“Give me the letter then leave. If you see the prince, do not tell him that you for once got me to think about even looking at his weak apologies. Just put your head down, and walk away. Do you understand Klarisa?”
“Yes my princess.” Klarisa moves swiftly to the doors to your chambers, opening it and moving forward, only to stop for a moment and turn on her heels towards to. “I hope you get what it is you seek my princess. For your own sake.” She turns back to the door and closes it behind her, leaving you alone with the letter in your hand which already feels like it’s burning you. Yet you prevail, and slowly open the letter to read it.
Dear ñuha jorrāelagon,
I will not waste my breath in attempting to gain your forgiveness. I know better than anyone that when you stick your mind to something you keep it that way. Though what I will say is the truth, which I know will hurt you and anger you more than anything but i know it’s what you wish to hear.
Alys was a woman I believed to be falling in love with. She was something what I believed I needed in my life. A woman to be docile and to whisper all the things I needed to hear in my ear. Though after your letter, it became my wake up. I cut off all contact with Alys after realising how much I hurt you. I regret that woman everyday I have not been with you. You are the only woman I need to be with. I love that you are not docile and will not take any man’s shit (as you so clearly and often tended to put it). I love that you challenge me and encourage the debates we so often hold. I love you Rhaella, more than any woman before in my life. I’m sorry it took another woman and the life of our child for me to realise it. I understand wholeheartedly if you wish to never speak to me again. But I hope with this letter, if you ever do decide to read this, which after all my other attempts seem unlikely, you at least know that there will not be a single day that I do not wish that I did not kill that woman when I killed all the other strongs. You are my life. My world. And I hope you know that.
From, Aemond Targaryen
You’ve never felt like you wanted to cry this much since you lost your sweet baby. You can feel the tears leaking down your face the entire time you read Aemonds words. Some of your tears drip onto the page, leaving some of the words to blur together into illegible blobs of black ink.
You feel the urge to destroy the letter. The same urge and desire you felt when you got into contact with all of Aemonds other gifts. Though you resist this time, and instead of destroying the letter, you smooth it out and place it delicately under the mass amounts of pillows that seem to always near take over your bed. That night, for the first night of the many you’d stayed in your room during your isolation period, you slept the whole night in your bed with no nightmares to wake you screaming.
———
When Aemond was standing in the corridor in the shadows and hadn’t picked up on any whispers from the maids passing him of any destruction or damage coming from your chambers, he assumed you must have kept the letter.
He does not hold though any hope that you read it. For all he knows you’ve simply just ignored it or ripped it and used it to keep your fire alight.
When he is waiting for the maid to come out of your room though, he could not help but feel hopeful when the maid takes longer than usual to come out of your room. “Well?” He asks as he steps from the shadows when the maid eventually comes out and nearly passes him. He does not dare to actually ask whether or not you took it. Even though he so selfishly wish to help hold her down and demand for
It surprises him and angers him when the maid looks at him and yet does not acknowledge him. What did you tell her? What does she know?
Aemond grabs the arm of the maid as she attempts to pass him without any real acknowledgment. “Your prince asked you a question.” He growls. He nearly felt sympathy for the woman when she looked at him with fear in her eyes. But he is not Aegon. He can control his desires towards the maids.
“The princess asked that I not speak to you. Please let go of my arm, my prince…” The maid half begs. Aemond lets go of her arm reluctantly after a moment of thinking. Why would you tell the maid to not talk to him? Maybe you really read the letter and do not wish to appear weak to him? Though only if you knew that you could never be weak in his eyes, his strong independent wife.
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kitasgloves · 4 months
Text
boyfriend! SAKUSA KIYOOMI who's unaware about how his gaze softens when he sees you interact with children. Your playful and welcoming demeanor charmed every kid you came into contact with. He just stares tenderly at the way you play with kids, taking care of them, and making sure they're happy.
Sakusa was never a fan of children but that doesn't mean he's cruel to them. Albeit awkward, but he doesn't intentionally scare them off. Seeing you getting along with children gives him a mixture of envy and pride. The more often he sees it, his perceivement of you begins to morph differently.
When you had to babysit your co-worker's son, Sakusa reluctantly offers to help. Fortunately, the child wasn't rowdy so he didn't develop any headache.
"Ki, can you watch over him? I'm going out to buy some groceries"
Sakusa nods. He and the kid waves goodbye as they both stare back at the television filled with cartoons. During a commercial, Sakusa can feel the boy's curious gaze on him.
"Mister Kiyoomi?"
"...Yes?"
"Are you [Name]'s boyfriend?"
"Yes"
"You're very lucky"
The boy replies, now it's Sakusa's turn to be curious. He looks at the kid with a raised brow.
"How come?"
"Well, she's very nice and pretty. She takes good care of me so much so she must take good care of you too!"
"Well, you're right, kid"
"[Name] tells me you play volleyball as a job, you must be very good!"
"Of course I am"
"Can you please teach me how to play volleyball?"
Flabbergasted but amused, Sakusa agrees to teach the kid to play the sport. When you return, you find Sakusa and the boy playing volleyball in the backyard with gleeful smiles on their faces.
Since then, Sakusa has looks forward to babysitting the kid. You've noticed how close they have become. The boy would greet him by running to him and hugging him then he'd pick him up in his arms, which was a pretty big deal considering your boyfriend was openly not a fan of kids. You'd catch them talking for hours, sometimes the boy would sit on Sakusa's lap. It was incredibly endearing, you're afraid your heart is going to burst out of your chest.
Sakusa doesn't dare admit it, but he's convinced he's developing some sort of baby fever. He keeps getting scenarios in his head involving him, you, and a tiny human. That tiny human would share both his and your traits. They'll babble and cling to you and him until they learn how to form sentences, play with other children, get to school, finish college, and getting married.
Woah, slow down there Kiyoomi
First off, he should be the one getting married first. However, he couldn't stop thinking about raising a child with you. It got concerning to the point that he doesn't get disgusted about changing diapers. He thinks he's not ready to become a father. There's so much to do. He needs to buy a ring and get on one knee, kiss you at the altar, then give you his last name.
"When are you and [Name] going to have a baby?"
Sakusa chokes on his tea when your co-worker's son asks him out of the blue. Thankfully, you were gone to buy some snacks. He feels himself get red all over. The kid wasn't even fucking with him, he looked genuinely curious.
"...I don't think we're going to have one"
"Why not?"
"Because I'm not ready to be a dad"
"But you already act like a dad to me, Kiyoomi-san"
"...Really?"
"Yeah! I bet your kid is going to be happy to have you as a dad!"
The boy beamed at him and he internally melts. It felt like a switch has been flipped as all form of logic went out of the window. As your co-worker comes to pick up their son later, Sakusa picks you up and carries you to the bedroom. He starts peppering you with kisses.
"Hey, why are being so lovey-dovey right now, Ki?"
"Nothing..."
"I know you, Sakusa Kiyoomi"
You poke his forehead, he pouts and buries his face against your chest.
"Can I ask you a question, love?"
"Shoot"
"Do you want to start a family with me?"
When Sakusa kooks up, there's bewilderment in your features. He purses his lips, he thinks he might've said something wrong. All of a sudden, your hand rests on his cheek as your eyes softened.
"I would love to start a family with you, Kiyoomi"
"I think I'm ready to be a dad. I got some training from the babysitting"
You laugh as you playfully pinch his cheek. He could spend an eternity like this.
"I think you'd be a wonderful dad, babe"
"Yeah? You mean it?"
"Of course, love"
You softly reassured him with a pet on his dark curls. As he smiles lovingly at you, he's already orchestrating a plan in his head. The perfect engagement ring, a flawless wedding, a romantic honeymoon, baby names, a cradle, baby formula, diapers, and a crying baby. He's especially thinking of sex positions that would knock you up successfully.
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