#i jus got a scan n cut

[eyenaku]

oh my god i could sell stickers

#i jus got a scan n cut #was like haha stickers #omg i could make the stickers. and then the funny guys could . they could go places #to people

[eyesxxyou]

Fun & Games

☆🕷️。・hobie brown x blackcat!reader

rating. m

word count. 3.3k

synopsis. you and Hobie have long been playing the game of cat and spider. you chase, you fight, you fuck, you fight again, and you two love your games. but it's truly all fun and games until you manage to get your hands on an interdimensional device.

✩°｡ ⋆⸜ 🐾warning: p in v sex, unprotected sex don't do that children, possessive!hobie, public sex, y/n is a real hoe and I love her for that, odd love hate relationship, clit slapping, Gwen's here very briefly, wall sex, bondage, mentions of injury, just me being horny so it's kinda horribly written, lemme know if I missed anything

"She's gotta be somewhere." Gwen sat perched on a ledge, the eyes of her mask wide and alert for any sign of the anomaly. In other words, you. You had somehow managed to get your hands on a interdimensional device of Miguel's making and have been hopping all around the multiverse causing mayhem. "You sure you have no idea where she's at? She's from your dimension after all, not to mention-"

The thing is, the devices don't show exact locations. They just tell you what dimension others are in. Leaving Gwen and Hobie hopping about right after you to put you back where you belong.

It was Hobie's fault after all. Being the Black Cat of his dimension meant you were good at sleight of hand. A single run in with you and next thing he knows his device is gone, his cock is hard, and he misses you so fucking much.

"Yeah, yeah, i's my fault or whateva." He spoke over the communicator, his eyes scanning across the streets for just a peek of that brilliant white hair of yours. "I'll keep an eye out, jus' stay where you are and don't underestimate 'er. She'll put you on ya arse before ya know it." He's gone toe to toe with you plenty of times to know that you're rather skilled in combat. And for reasons he'd also know that you're flexible.

He cut off his device, the one Miguel reluctantly gave him after laying into him over his incompetence. "You're gonna deal with this mess you've made!" He almost crushed the device in his hand from gripping it so hard as he pushed it into Hobie's chest. "You get her back to where she belongs then you're out. You're done."

Hobie honestly couldn't give less of a damn about being booted from the society. Taking orders and being a part of a team was really cramping his style. Preferred it when it was just him and his own dimension's problems.

He hopped between buildings in this dimension looking for any marker of you. Your cloud-like hair done always in wild, untamed curls that somehow manage to sit perfect around your face. You wore black leather, nice sharp spikes, claws you made yourself that left their scar against his chest as well as down his back.

Hobie liked how complicated your relationship is. How you constantly kept him on his toes, remained so inconsistent that he never got bored. One second you were on your knees, his cock weighing heavy on your pretty tongue, just narrowly missing the angel bite piercings you had with fangs in, and the next, you were trying to claw his eyes out of his face. You were batshit fucking insane and he was absolutely in love with you though, he'd never admit that.

He hoped he found you before Gwen did— it's been just a little under a month and he's been feening for you, spending his lonely nights when he doesn't have a million wounds and a few broken bones to tend to with his hand wrapped firmly around his cock and your name wetting his lips with prayer. He's fucking pussy-whipped, desperate, absolutely nuts for you.

And when he finds you (which he always does somehow), you're hopping across a rooftop and sliding down a gutter into a nearby alleyway. He follows you stealthily, lingering in the shadows as he rounds the corner and drops into the shady alley. But he finds you aren't there. He pauses, talks a moment to let his instincts take the lead.

It just took a second, a small tingle, the hairs on the back of his neck standing but he hardly had any time to react before you were on his back with your claws pressed against his throat. "Ya missed me?" You whispered in his ear with the touch of a smile in your voice.

Hobie moved quickly, pushing the both of you back until your back slammed against the jagged brick wall and your grip loosened just enough for him to pry himself out of your clawed hold. He webbed you up with your hands trapped above your head. Your goggles were already pushed up into your wild hair and your cat-like eyes gleamed at him. "I'd say you do."

Hobie reached up and pulled off his mask. “Nice to see ya too, Y/N. We can have our reunion once ya back where ya belong.”

“Never took you as the type to join a committee of interdimensional spider fascist.” You scoff, wriggling your wrist against the binding of his webs but you know all too well how strong they actually are. Many times have you been caught in his web, bent in all sorts of positions. He’s always been your favorite toy.

“No’ by choice. You did me a fava’ actually, they gave me the boot ‘cause of you.” He came close, his tall, lean stature looming over you as he removed the watch from your wrist and deactivated it. Hobie looked down at you, looking into your sultry eyes that told him you just wanted to sit on his dick then make your grand escape. You’re always dressed in leather, your shorts so tight and small it leaves hardly anything to the imagination. You were wearing those torn up, distressed tights he loved so much and that he’s definitely torn his own fair share of holes in.

“Don’t you want to know why I went to the places I did?”

“There’s a reason?” He thought it was just you fucking around, trying to cause as much mayhem as possible, begin a nice little collection of diamonds stolen from different dimensions. Your motivations were always a bit hard to decipher.

You leaned in as close as you could in the position you were stuck in and whispered to him, “All the dimensions I went to had a version of you in them. I wanted to see which one was my favorite.” It was a confession of sin just between the two of you in this dark little alleyway he had you stuck in. “Would you like me to tell you about the other yous I’ve met?” You took his stoic silence as answer enough.

“There was one with the prettiest eyes. One blue and one brown. I got to look in them while I rode his pretty face. He made me cum so hard.” Your voice was so heavy with the memory of it but you didn’t linger. “And the other one, nice, long locs. He fucked me so good my legs were shaking. Oh- and the other one made me squirt for the first time-”

Your descriptions sparked something primal in Hobie, something carnal and possessive. A part of him was aroused at the thought of your pretty little cunt he was absolutely addicted to getting ran through by different versions of himself. Maybe you were just as obsessed with him as he was with you, why else would you do something like this?

“You a lil’ whore, ya know tha’, kitty?” His hands were already at the waist of your shorts, undoing the makeshift button you had made after he broke the original one a while ago. His lips were on yours, licking and biting feverishly in attempt to get a taste of you. “Guess I gotta remind you who you belong to.” He needed to tame your pretty little pussy, domesticate it, make it purr for him.

“I don’t belong to anyone, you know that.” You murmur against his lips, shifting your hips to make it easier for him to get your shorts out of the way. He pulled them down to your knees just above your boots and shifted away from you to duck under and slot his way between your nylon-clad thighs. He trailed kisses up the length of your body as he made his way back up, shoving your torn shirt up so his lips could feel your heated skin. “I’d beg to diffa, luv. I think you know ya slutty pussy belongs to me because why else would you hop aroun’ the multiverse just to hook up wit’ me ova and ova again?” He forced your shirt up over your tits, leaving you nice and exposed, unable to do anything about it even if you wanted.

“I’ve just gotta show you tha’ the original is always the bes’.” He had no time to take his time, to worship every inch, every curve, every dimple. He wanted his cock in you, he wanted to fuck you hard, fast, and deep. He wanted to destroy that pride of yours and force you to admit that he will always be your favorite.

He knows that's just how you like it. Rough, quick, and almost animalistic with a hint of risk. You can't get off without it. 

He tears a new hole in your tights right that the crotch and finds that your panties are already soaked, the vague outline of your plump pussy pressing against the fabric that clings to you like a second skin. He gets so hard at just the sight of it, so hard it becomes painful. "I's been a long fuckin' time." Hobie breathed out under his breath. "Ma favorite girl missed me I can see." He pressed the bulge of his cock against your wet, desperate cunt.

Your muscles tense and shudder uncontrollably as your lips attempt to contain a horrid little whimper. You weren't usually so sensitive, Hobie could feel your thighs clamping at his hips in an attempt to close your legs. His fingers slid past your panties and pulled them to the side just to find that your pussy was already pink and swollen, abused and misused by all the cocks you've already taken. You were so damn sensitive, your bud throbbing and engorged.

Hobie couldn't help but let out a chuckle, a smirk framing the scoff he let out. "A fuckin' slut, I tell you. You've already been so damn ran through." He slapped your pussy nice and firm and your whole body jolted with the pain and pleasure it caused and you cried out a little too loud.

"Migh' wanna be quiet. Ya don't wan' someone coming down and seeing your poor cut gettin' abused." His fingers slid between your slick folds, every part of you tender to the touch, every movement leaving your body trembling. It's pathetic how quickly he can have you and squeaking, whining, crying mess. A street cat tame by those long, slender fingers of his as he plays in your mess, a reminder of all the other hims you've had. You had been out on a conquest and somehow it's ending with you getting conquered.

It was easy for him to glide his fingers into your heat, the pad of his thumb drawing circles on your poor clit while he used his other hand to grab your chin and force you to look him in the eyes. "Can you feel tha'?' Your cunt was swallowing his digits down to the knuckle and squeezing. "Nice lil' kitty is purrin' fo' me. Think I migh' make 'er a house cat."

"Go fuck yourself." You manage to choke out between the strangled moans of your throat. Hobie chuckled and kissed you, nice and hard with his tongue against yours and his fingers playing your pussy like a fiddle. God, he was so good at what he did, knew just where your sweet spot was to have you crumbling in his hold. 

He pulled back a little, both of your lips wet with saliva, and nipped at your bottom lip. His fingers pumped in and out of your trembling pussy that wept for him, your slick dripping from his knuckles. You writhed against your restraints, claws sawing at his webbing to little avail. And you knew his fingers were nothing compared to that gorgeous cock of his that fit in you so snuggly and touched places that, before him, you hadn’t even known existed.

But his fingers were so good, able to caress your walls in ways his length couldn’t. His thumb rubbed your clit ferociously, sending spiked balls of pleasure to every muscle in your body. You spasmed, back arching off the walls, eyes rolling, vision blurry. “S-stop fuckin’ with me.” You manage to spit out at him in a shaking gasp.

“But fuckin’ wit’ ya is my favorite part.” Hobie slipped his fingers from your messy hole and took it upon himself to get a taste. “Plus, i’s no’ like you show me any mercy when ya in one of ya moods. I’ve gotta point to prove here.” His hands began to undo his belt with rushed persistence.

“And what point is that?” You watch him pull himself out, the length of his cock pressed against your pelvis. Prettiest you’ve ever seen, nice and long with subtle veins and dark brown tip beading with pearls of precum that weep from his tip and roll down the underside of his shaft.

Hobie maneuvered (more like manhandled) your fame so that your legs were up over his shoulders. He spat on his fingers, used it as lube to spread down his length. “Tha’ you ‘n I both know you can’t replace me with some off brand version.”

“Oh, I’d argue they were very on brand. All had that pretty face of yours. That prettier cock.” Your words faltered a bit as he pushed into you without so much as a warning, jealousy getting the better of him. His fingers grip your thighs, body pressing you into the wall while his hips rutted against you. He fucked you like an animal, his teeth gritting, his cock brutalizing your used up cunt. And the position allowed him to sink so deep you felt him in your gut, in your throat, in your very head. He fucked the air out of your lungs but that didn’t stop your cries of pleasure.

And as pretty as they were, Hobie didn’t need the two of you being stumbled upon. He placed his palm over your mouth, kept you placid and quiet white he fucked you with intention. He was gonna claim your pussy, paint it white, make it his, let you know that no matter how hard you try the two of you will always find yourself dancing to this same song. You’d fight, you’d fuck, you’d fight again, you’d fuck again. Sometimes you were allies, sometimes you were enemies, but at all times you were lovers.

He spanked your swollen clit while he fucked you in such a brutal nature. There was no sympathy for you, no mercy, no kindness offered. Just carnality unmatched by any of your other affairs. It might be the spider venom bound to his DNA making him this way. Hobie– normal Hobie, rational Hobie– was not a jealous person, especially not towards someone who, in all cases, did not belong to him.

The emotions of it were conflicting. The mixture of jealousy and arousal at the thought of you with another version of himself because in all the ways that made him who he was on paper was, he was with you every single time. Genetically, generally, the vague outline of himself. But the experiences were different, slightly tweaked in a way, and in the way that matters you had fucked entirely different people. And that was the fun of it. What would be the point of sleeping with the same person over and over again if not for the slight differences every time.

Hobie wondered if they made you feel this way, your back arching so dramatically off the wall, your eyes going cross with pleasure as your moans are contained behind his palm. The two of you had so much shared history that even if they were better, it still wouldn't compare. He knew you like he knew many things, on a level balanced by emotion and technicality.

The two of you were never meant to be anything more than this, a quick, filthy fuck in the back alley of some random place and yet you both were sure you were soulmates in some sick twisted way. You'd both go around in these pointless circles having the most fun with never making the effort to define yourselves or restrict yourselves to something that wasn't completely and entirely you.

Your toes curled in your boots as you felt the brutality of an orgasm coming your way. It built within you, clawing to get out like you clawed through the webs. It seized you like being strangled, curled around your body, left you warm and fuzzy and delirious.

"Look a' me, luv. Look a' me with those pretty eyes of yours." The way he fixed your face forward, made you look him in the eyes. "Nice lil' pussy gonna make me cum." Your walls spasmed, hugged him, squeezed around his length, molding to every curve, every vein. If only his hand weren't over your mouth, you'd kiss his pretty lips and tell him to shut the fuck up and just fuck you, just lose himself in you.

And oh, was he losing himself. An orgasm quickly approaching on the horizon. Hobie pressed his forehead against yours, his eyes low and sultry as he removed his hand from your mouth and gripped your thighs once more. "Fuck-" Hobie gasps and shudders, his abdomen tightening with the beginnings to a climax.

"Go ahead, pretty boy. You said you have a point to prove, right? Go ahead and prove it." You watched in breathless pants as he takes his pleasure in you, comes undone for you, his fingertips pressing bruises into your supple skin. "You're my favorite, my pretty boy." You confess to him. In all versions, you were simply looking for him, something you didn't find, no matter how eerily similar they all were.

Hobie murmurs something incoherent under his breath as he cums. He's swift with pulling out, just in time to spill his hot semen all over your heat. He claimed you like he always wanted to, with the way his hands left bruises in your skin, with the way his trembling cock spread his cum all over you, how his lips claimed yours in a moment of passion.

"You can stop pretendin' to be trapped now." Hobie murmured against your lips, pulling away and running his thumb across your kiss-swollen bottom lip before making himself decent. You had long sawed your way through his webs, they never last that long. You let your arms drop. "Finally, they were startin' to hurt." 

Hobie removes himself from your body, letting you take the time to get yourself together. "How much time do I have this time?" It was back to business as usual, not that either of you minded. You both enjoyed your games.

"A minute before I call my partna. Two before I start chasin' you myself." He always gave you a bit of a head start, maybe out of some soft spot he had for you. Sometimes he caught you, sometimes he didn't, it was all up to chance.

You pull your goggles out of you disheveled hair and fix them over your eyes. You lean into him, close enough that he thought you might kiss him. "I'll try not to break your nose this time, lovely." You peck his lips as a distraction as you slip your hand into the pocket of his vest and attempt to steal your stolen watch back.

Hobie's already thinking one step ahead of you. His hand grasps your wrist. "No' tha' generous. An' you've got 'bout 40 seconds lef'. Better get goin'." He's dealt with your bullshit more times than he can count. He knows what goes on in that pretty head of yourself, how you're always scheming, even against him— especially against him."

You scoff then chuckle. "Fine— c'ya 'round, Bee." You turn and rush off, grasping a gutter to leap up on the rooftop and run off.

You both love your fun and games.

#across the spiderverse #spiderman atsv #hobie brown #atsv #spiderman #hobie brown fic #hobie brown smut #spider punk #black cat #hobie x reader

[realisticfanfictions]

Being Sanji's Girlfriend & Baratie's Head Waitress.

Sanji x Waitress!Reader

Working at Baratie wasn't without its challenges, and the fights that sprung up because of them weren't rare either. You and your boyfriend never sweated the small stuff, after all working in a high stress environment made you, well, stressed. But maybe some things can't be resolved that easily.

Tags: Sanji x Reader, Waitress!Reader, constant bickering, mostly fluff with some angst, (heavy) swearing.

A/N: I love the Waitress!Reader so much for OPLA, so I've decided to do another one! I had to split this up into multiple parts, cause this ended up being a bit long. (Link to part two.)

Word Count is 4,829. Hope you enjoy!

"Where the fuck are my entrees?!" Your voice echoed in the enclosed space, cutting through the melodic and rhythmic sounds of frying, chopping and other things that went on in a kitchen. You brushed past another waitress who wisely got out of your way, your heels clicking against the tiles as you marched up to the pass and slammed your copy of the meal ticket down. "Chef!" You called out, pushing back a strand of your hair as you scanned the chefs who were cooking at a ferocious pace. You locked eyes with an unfortunate new chef, but despite him immediately looking at his feet and trying to walk by, you reached through the window and pulled him by the collar. "Who the hell is on entrees?" He stumbled over his words and you groaned in frustration at his pathetic attempt at the English language.

"That's me." You pushed him back and looked past the cowering chef at the man who had just spoken up, your boyfriend and the love of your life, Sanji. His normally pressed and tidy chef attire was in disarray with his shirt untucked and his sleeves stained with various sauces. He sounded hoarse and was covered in a thin layer of sweat as he cooked some type of meat, flipping it over in the pan to cook it evenly. Intense concentration was etched into his face and the way he scrunched his nose was adorable, but right now you couldn't think of anything else but punching it.

You opened your mouth to speak, but a nearby busboy ran in front of you and you snarled at him. "Watch it, asshole!" You refocused your attention back on the blonde in front of you. "I have thirty-eight tables out there with at least four head a table, and only two waitresses working the floor-!"

He shook his head and his pan aggressively hit the stove top each time he moved it. "You know, it sounds so hard to look pretty and run around in heels all night, but I actually have a real job-"

"Oh really?"

"Yeah, really. And I'd appreciate it if I didn't have you bitching in my ear all night!" He threw some butter in the pan and began to bast the meat.

"Then maybe, if you were actually good at your 'real job'," You said with quotation marks. "Then you'd tell me why the shit it takes thirty-five goddamn minutes for a premade french onion soup!"

He whipped around with a laddle in his hand and he marched over to the pass. You both bent down to see each other through the window. "Hey, if I had any fucking help around here I would have gotten that to you twenty minutes ago, but I'm stuck here-"

"And here we go!" You exclaimed as you threw up your hands dramatically and walked through the swinging doors. You avoided Pattie walking out with a tray of fresh bread and popped on an apron attached to a nearby hook.

"-with my thumb up my arse because apparently no one knows how to plate a damn steak in this kitchen!" He moved around you as you took his place, grabbing the offending meat and placing it atop of the mashed potatoes.

Annoyed, you grabbed the garnish. "Well, where the hell's the plating station?"

Sanji came back and unceremoniously dropped a large stock pot next to you. He bent down to look you in the eye and threw his hands up in the air. "He quit."

Your eyes widened and followed him as he walked to the other side of you and started plating beside you. "He what?"

"He fucking quit! Just like every other bitch who couldn't handle Tuesdays at the Baratie." His brows furrowed and he let out a small shout of frustration. "Whoever the fuck did the halibut, refry it!" He yelled as he set it off to the side. "Just 'cause we're busy doesn't mean you can push out a shit and pass it off as fine dining!"

You plated another order and put it under the heat lamp at the pass, then rang the bell, but no one came. "And we're short-staffed on waitresses too!" You exclaimed and spotted the busboy from before, "Oi! You! Get off your ass and start serving!" You threw your ticket-book and pen at him, which he barely caught from where he was sitting.

"B-But I'm washing dishes-!"

You dramatically gestured around. "We aren't even sending anything out, so unless you've been storing them up your rectum, what fucking dishes are you washing?!" You grabbed the french onion soup in the stock pot that Sanji had given you and quickly poured it into three bowls laced with garnish on top. "Take these to 12, and the steak to 24. Tell 12 that they'll get a free dessert in about twenty minutes. Well? Get a move on! You aren't getting paid to sit there and look pretty, 'cause you sure as hell ain't fucking pretty!" He scrambled to pick them up and he quickly ran out of the kitchen.

"That turned me on more than I'd like to admit." Sanji appeared beside you with another plate and rang the service bell. "If we weren't busy I'd kiss you, darling." He exclaimed as he grabbed a handful of garnish and placed it atop of the plate.

"Oi, fuckface." When he looked over, you quickly pressed a kiss to his lips and grabbed the metal tray of halibut. "Now, let's get these pretentious pricks fed!"

You both worked side by side, barking orders at each other and bickering over every little thing you could - even Zeff yelled at you both to shut up. But it worked. Within minutes, you both had worked through the back orders and finally got to a point where you weren't struggling to complete orders from guests who'd been waiting for hours. When the last table left, you and Sanji just about collapsed. Leaning against the cool wall tile with you by his side, he sighed. "That was definitely one of our busiest days," He said with pure relief that it was finally over.

You couldn't remain standing and slid down the wall, your high heels clicking as you sat down. "Yeah, who knew so many people would wanna celebrate Father's Day?" You replied sarcastically, but a playful smile told your boyfriend that you weren't being mean. He softly chuckled and followed suit, sliding down the wall until he reached the floor with a groan.

He pulled out his cigarettes. "I've earned one of these." He says as he puts it between his lips and waits for you to light it. You roll your eyes and oblige, taking out your lighter and lighting the end of it for him. He took a slow drag, closed his eyes, savoured it, and then exhaled out the smoke.

"You almost make lung cancer look sexy." You remarked with a grin, and he returned it with his own charming, beautiful smile.

His eyes slowly flicked up and down. "And you always make yelling and shouting look so sexy." He licked his lips and leaned in, giving you a kiss that lingered. Your eyes fluttered shut and you enjoyed the small respite from the craziness you had both just experienced. Even when the kiss eventually ended, neither one of you moved away. "Are you working tonight?" He asked under his breath.

You sighed and pecked his lips. "In two hours."

"Till?"

"Four."

"Shit."

"I know." You pressed your lips against his once more and moved some hair out of his face. "But, I'm not working tomorrow so we can sleep in."

He sighed. "I start at nine tomorrow."

"Till?"

"Six."

"Shit."

"I know." You both quietly laughed and pressed your noses together, then rubbed them together while stealing kisses and giggling like you used to when you were kids.

You'd been at the Baratie ever since you were fifteen, and you'd been dating Sanji since you were sixteen. It wasn't really something you both had officially decided on, nor did either one of you do this big, elaborate confession that made both of you ugly-cry. It happened slowly over time. Many customers and fellow staff would constantly tease you both with things like, "Where's your girlfriend, Sanji?" and, "Aw! You both are so cute together!" At first you both denied it, but eventually you just... stopped correcting people. You were each other's first kiss, first love... first love, and despite how it looks from the outside, you couldn't be happier.

"Oi, Sanji." You called out as you leaned closer to the mirror to focus on your eyeshadow. "Be careful, there's been a lot of pirate activity lately. They might stop by, so Zeff has officially-unofficially instated a no-tolerance policy for- Sanji!" You laughed when your boyfriend wrapped his arms around you and you struggled to do your makeup while Sanji hung off of you and pressed kisses along your cheek. "You toad! You're going to ruin my smokey eye."

He playfully moaned. "But you're so sexy," He whined and pulled back enough to give you puppy eyes. "And you shouldn't work tonight if there's pirates anyway."

"I still have to work." You replied, giving up on doing your makeup and stealing a quick kiss from him. "I'm the head of front-of-house, I can't just ring up Zeff and say, 'hey, your son wants to sleep with me so I can't come in today!'"

"No, you can't." At the sound of his voice, you looked up to see that your boss had entered you and Sanji's shared room. He would have seen the neatly pressed and ironed button-downs wrapped around hangers, and two mismatching pairs of high heels strewn about the floor. His eyes met yours. "We have a full house of rich, but important pricks tonight, and I need all hands on deck. If someone calls in sick, drag them out of bed if you have to."

Your boyfriend pouted playfully. "But she never gets any time off, can't we just-"

"(Y/N) is our head of house, she's too important to lose tonight." Zeff straightened up and crossed his arms over. "Little Eggplant, you can't distract (Y/N) from doing her job. Unlike you, she has to work to stay here." The old man looked over at you and you nodded, you knew that you were a staff member first and foremost - being the girlfriend of his adopted son was second to that.

Sanji's smile tightened, and he stood up. "I know." His blue eyes flashed with something that you meant he wanted to say something but didn't. His smile returned when he looked at you. "I'll see you in the morning."

As he brushed past Zeff and walked out of the room, you furrowed your eyebrows at your boss and father figure. "Now that's one way to get him pissed off at you." The words came out a little more aggressive than you meant to, but you didn't bother correcting yourself.

He sighed and turned to leave. "Leave it alone, (Y/N)."

"And one way to get me pissed off at you too." You dropped your eyeshadow onto the table and followed after him. His wide frame took up quite a bit of space in the hallway, but you squeezed past him to block his path.

Zeff groaned when he saw you and squeezed the bridge of his nose, then released it to gesture while he spoke. "(Y/N), I apologise if you felt offended. You're a part of our family, and--"

"I don't care about that." You scoffed in disbelief and gawked at his lack of social awareness. "You must be really thick in the skull if you think I'm upset about that."

His face scrunched up. "Then what are you upset about? Hm? What are you upset about now?" He gestured behind you. "I have dinner service to prep for," He started to list off on his fingers. "I have a team of flaky waitresses-your team of flaky waitresses to deal with, and I need to make sure that we have enough lamb being delivered for our special tonight. So what could it possibly be that is so important you're holding me up for?"

You counted to five in your head before opening your mouth to speak. "I love him. And I don't give a rat's ass that you sign my paycheck, or give me a roof over my head. You don't make Sanji, my boyfriend and your son, feel shitty just because you think it'll toughen him up. And you certainly don't use me to do that." You keep your gaze locked onto his. "You ever do that again? I walk." You stepped backward and straightened up. "I'll get the team ready for service."

You never regretted what you said. Was your tone harsher than it should've been? Yes, but you needed to get your point across to him. There wasn't any time to think about it though, because it was Friday night and thirty minutes before opening - you didn't have the time to regret what you said.

"Ladies!" You called out, then smiled. "And Sapi." Said fishman smiled at your acknowledgement as your team of staff gathered around to form a semi-circle in front of you. You held up your checklist. "We have fifteen V.I.P tables tonight. I expect everyone to be on their best behaviour. That means no frowning, no blowing your nose on the customer's napkins, and no- oh my God, Macy. If you don't shut the fuck up." The red-lipped, pigtail-wearing waitress jolted back from where she was gossiping with another waitress. You raise your brows at her as if to ask if she was done and rolled your eyes. "And no unprofessionalism." You finished with a glare.

Spai cleared his throat. "How many free tables do we have tonight?"

You looked back at the clipboard and flipped over the page, counting quietly to yourself. "There's two at seven and one at eight. The two at seven are one and eight, and the one at eight is seven. One can be for eight, but don't offer seven to under six because seven and six are over eight. Got it?"

The room was quiet for a moment, and Sapi slowly blinked. "May I have a copy of that, please?"

"I'll bring one to your station," You looked around. "Any questions?" Silence. "Good. Now, put on your fakest smile and happy ga-ga voice - we've got a line of ships waiting to be fed!"

"Let's do this, team!" Macy's voice screeched out and she was met with silence.

You exhaled gruffly and squeezed the bridge of your nose. "Macy, I swear to- let's do this, team!" This time, it was met with a round of cheer as they dispersed to familiarise themselves with their tables for the night.

A pleased sigh escaped you, content with your small but mighty team that you had managed to drag out of bed to work the floor. A glance to the suspiciously blank specials menu made you curse under your breath. You were going to have to talk to Zeff to get tonight's specials. With a defeated sigh, you clipped your pen to your shirt and sucked in a deep breath, before making your way to the kitchen where it sounded like food preparations were already underway.

"...and get those lamb in the cold room!" Zeff's voice was apparent the second you walked through those doors. The kitchen was a mess of people marching backwards and forwards like ants while Zeff, their queen, barked orders as they passed by. You thought about just turning around and pretending that the fight had never happened in the first place, but the old man spotted you and waved you over with a finger. "What can I get you, Sprout?" You breathed out a sigh of relief, hearing his nickname for you was like a wave of fresh air.

You straightened up and grabbed your pen. "Hey geezer, what's the specials tonight?"

He waited for you to finish writing "Specials" across the top of your sheet of paper. "We have Lobster Thermidor paired with the 1500s Chardonnay, or a White Burgundy if they snub the Chardonnay. Then we have classic Red-Wine Braised Lamb Shanks that you can pair with any Grenache you find." He slid a piece of paper to you. "These are the prices. I only want you handling checks tonight."

Out of sheer habit, you slipped the piece of paper into your bra. "Why's that?"

"Because someone messed up the till last night, and I want someone I can trust running it."

That made your heart clench. You sighed. "Look, Zeff," You started and lowered your clipboard. "I'm sorry for stepping out of line earlier. I was angry. Sanji was trying to get some 'us' time because we haven't even been awake at the same time for the last couple months. And when we have it's been with me running the floor and him- you know what I mean. Look, I'd never walk out on you, Zeff."

His face, as always, was blank, but you can tell he was processing what you had just said. He was quiet, but then he nodded. "Get those specials on the board. We open in ten." You bit the inside of your cheek and nodded, then turned around. "Don't fuss, little brussel sprout."

A smile wormed its way onto your face and you looked over your shoulder at him. "Fussin' ain't worth fussing over. Isn't that what you say?" You barely dodged an incoming head of lettuce.

"Good evening, welcome to the Baratie. My name is (Y/N), can I get you started with some drinks tonight?" You were a natural at this. It didn't matter if you were having an "anti-person day", as Sanji called it, there was no denying that you had talent.

The man with soft, pink hair hummed and looked over the menu. His brass knuckles glistening under the dim lighting of the restaurant. "What are your specials for the night?"

A polite smile went a long way. "The chef has prepared for you a selection of the most wonderful meals made only from the finest and freshest ingredients in the Ease Blue. We have Lobster Thermidor paired with a Chardonnay that I find adds a bit of a fruity, uplifting compliment to the meal. And we have our high-in-demand Lamb Shanks braised in a nice red wine, and paired with only the best Grenache you can find for miles." You didn't bother telling him that it was the same Grenache you had found in the back of the freezer from four months ago.

"That sounds lovely, and what is the cost?"

You quietly hissed and looked over at the beautiful blonde who was sitting across from him, then leaned in to whisper. "I find it's best not to discuss such things on a date. You wouldn't want her to think she isn't worth it, right?"

Well, that certainly worked. He slowly looked between you and his date, who smiled sweetly and encircled the rim of her glass with her perfectly manicured french tips. He cleared his throat and leaned back in his chair. "You're right. We'll take one of each, and I'll have to rely on you for what pairs best."

You took the menu he offered with a smile and a nod. "Very well sir, I hope you two enjoy yourselves. Our bar is open all night." And with a wink, you danced away to the kitchen to place 'his' order. It was easy with men like that. All you had to do was dangle their woman's respect in front of them and they'd eat shit just to keep her smiling. But despite the monotony of it at times, you met a lot of interesting people from different backgrounds. You gave a small wave at the man at table two, a regular who had just come back from his royal ballet tour appearance and was with his rich, aristocrat girlfriend, who he said wasn't feeling well.

An set of voices, loud and uncouth, came from above and you stopped to cast a glance upwards. They were... pirates? Well, Zeff did say that they'd been more active around this area as of late, so it wasn't that much of a surprise - especially since there was already a couple tables of them. Sapi looked a little overwhelmed, so you sighed and grabbed a nearby waitress. "Could you take an order to the kitchen for me? It's table three with the two specials, two too. The man at two in the tutu wants it blue, but not at two with Ms. Sue in the red shoes. She has a touch of the flu, so any red meat or roux will make her spew. Got it?"

She blinked. "I think so?"

You patted her on the shoulder and briskly floated up the stairs with as much grace as a head waitress could muster. Their conversation slowly grew louder and you were able to hear some of their conversation. "My apologies, but I don't accept money for-"

"Is there something I can help you with?" At your words, the group looked over and Sapi, who had been trying to refuse some berri the orange-haired woman was offering him, visibly relaxed.

"Nothing is the matter, this group was just leaving." He answered and looked at them to see if they got the hint. The woman sighed in defeat and pocketed her cash. You looked over at the two young men leant against the railing staring into the restaurant below, they were very excited and looked as if they hadn't eaten a proper meal for a few days.

With your mind set, you glanced over at the time, then straightened up and smiled. "You know what? It's seven, so I believe we might have a booth available if that's suitable for your needs?"

She smiled and breathed out a small sigh of relief. "Thank you, here-"

You held up a hand before she could reach into her pocket. "Save that for your meal." With a quick nod to Sapi, you stepped aside and gestured toward the staircase. "Follow me." The man with green hair and three swords rubbed you the wrong way almost the second you laid eyes on him, and you could tell he felt the same way. It was almost a sense of mutual familiarity. But you broke off eye contact to lead the rest of this strange, rambunctious crew further into the Baratie. "The Baratie was established by our current owner Zeff, and we recently celebrated our tenth anniversary."

The boy in the straw hat gawked at everything he saw and heard you say, and smiled brightly. "This place looks like it serves good food!"

That brought a smile to your face. "It does," You said as you guided them to their booth amidst other pirates and similar rough-looking guests. "And I don't just say that because my boyfriend's the sous chef."

"Are you sure about that?" The guy in a pirate costume asked, his eyes sparkling with mischief and laughing along with his young friend.

You smiled along and shook your head. "I'll let you guys get settled in and will return in about five minutes with a menu. Please enjoy the music." With a few friendly waves and a "see you in a bit!" from the straw hat boy, you turned and walked toward the back of the room to collect a few menus.

Suddenly, the door slammed open and your boyfriend appeared looking more than a bit annoyed. You didn't even think he was on the line tonight, but your attention was drawn to two men who had began to cause a bit of a ruckus. You weren't close enough to hear what was being said, but you tucked the menus under your armpit and darted toward the pair that were now being consoled by Sanji. "...we don't waste food, and there's no fighting at the Baratie." You slowed your walk toward them and continued at a crawl. The man you had served not that long ago was dealing with a rowdy pirate. You heard something that sounded like a threat and Sanji spoke up again, his voice cutting through the argument before it had the chance to escalate. "And I'd like to pour you each a glass of Ithürzburger Stein. On the house."

The pirate nodded. "Okay, I'll have that drink." His brows furrowed and his voice grew irrate. "After he apologies for his bad manners!"

"Over my dead body." That was certainly the wrong answer. With a growl, they both lunged for each other and you sped toward them, watching as Sanji, in a blur, flipped over the table and kicked each of them.

The pink haired man grunted and got back up on his feet, drawing his gun but then froze when he felt something cold dig into his back. "I wouldn't do that if I were you." You warned, shoving your own gun into his back and whispered in his ear. "Drop it." Like the coward he was, he did and you effortlessly slammed the butt of your weapon into his temple - knocking him out cold.

You motioned for a nearby waitress to deal with the unconscious men, then snapped your attention to Sanji who picked up his plate of scones and continued his walk. "No cause for alarm, folks. Please, enjoy your meals." He called out and you quickly pocketed your gun back into your thigh-holster, smoothing out your dress and turning to the waitress who had arrived at your side.

After gesturing for her to take them out the back door, you readjusted yourself and quickly walked up to Sanji's side who's forced smile made you tilt your head in confusion. He shook his head, he didn't want to talk about it just yet. You both made the few steps over to the table you had just seated and, despite his mood, he set down the plate with his usual grace. "Hi, welcome to our shitty restaurant where the only thing worse than the ambience is the food. My name is Sanji. What can I get for you?" While he spoke, you placed down some menus and tried to ignore the straw hat boy who was currently stuffing his face full of our complimentary scones.

The woman grabbed a menu from you with a smile, but the others had their eyes locked onto Sanji. "One of everything, please!" The straw hat boy called out without taking a look at the menu you had walked twenty feet in high heels to collect.

"Any drinks?" Your boyfriend offered as he shoved his hands into his pocket, unconsciously looking for his packet of smokes that you knew he couldn't light. You briefly wondered if you should offer him a smoke break to calm him down. "One of our signature cocktails to help you choke down your meal?"

"Giving us the hard sell, huh?" She asked as she slowly lowered her menu and you found it increasingly harder not to smack the blond.

And, as usual, his entire demeanour changed. "Apologies, madam. I didn't see you there. Would you care for an aperitif to start? We have several rare Micqueot vintages in stock. Or perhaps you'd like a glass of Umeshu? You know, something sweet-" He winked. "-for someone sweet."

"Something wrong with your eye?" She asked, quirking an eyebrow.

You cleared your throat. "No, but there is something wrong with his head if he thinks he can flirt with another girl in front of his girlfriend."

That garnered a few giggles, snickers and mock gasps from the table. Sanji chuckled and turned to you. "I hope I'm not in the doghouse tonight?" He pulled you in and gave you a quick kiss on your cheek, but you waved him off.

"We'll see." You shot him a not-so-serious warning look and focused back on the table. "Sorry about that, did I hear you were after some drinks?"

The green-haired male looked you up and down, faint recognition in his eyes as he cleared his throat. "Can I get a beer and something for my friends?"

The pirate-costumed man spoke up. "Two beers. I usually have three, but-"

"And a milk!"

You scribbled down their orders, and Sanji's hand crept around your waist. "Three beers and a milk. And, uh, for madam?"

"Water."

"Still, sparking, mineral? With ice or without? Cubed or crushed?"

You stopped writing and slowly looked up to your boyfriend. "...Taken, Sanji." You reminded him and he stared back at you innocently.

Even the woman leaned back in confusion. "Regular water, in a regular glass. Thanks."

"Right away." He said with a wistful expression, and with the roll of your eyes, you dragged him away before he made a further fool of himself.

AN: Sorry about ending it there, but it was getting WAY too long and I figured it'd be easier to break it up into multiple pieces rather than having one solid chunk of 12k words. Or however long this fic ends up being. I'm actually kinda digging it, so I may continue to write it for a while! Also, I have no idea how old Sanji is meant to be in this universe? According to the internet (and the massive reddit fight I accidentally spawned) it's a tossup between 19 and 26 (OP Sanji's vs the actor's actual age.)

I also hope you appreciate the word-puns. I don't know why but I really enjoy writing them and love to include them in my writing-

#sanji x you #opla sanji x you #sanji x reader #one piece #fanfiction #anime #one piece fluff #one piece headcanons #vinsmoke sanji #sanji #black leg sanji #one piece sanji #roronoa zoro #blackleg sanji #sanji vinsmoke #straw hat pirates #opla #opla sanji #opla x reader #one piece netflix #one piece live action #opla sanji x y/n #sanji x y/n #opla sanji x reader

[intoxicated-chan]

𝐏𝐚𝐲𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭-𝐈𝐧-𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐝

Summary ➳ With a suspended license, you took the risk of picking up your brothers from a bar and when caught, Officer Walsh gives you a choice.

(A/n) ➳ I just realized that I’m still on season 3… I might end up rewatching season 1 and 2… Yeah, I’m rewatching it.

Word Count ➳ 1.4k

Content Warnings ➳ Female reader, NO OUTBREAK, DARK SHANE, DARK CONTENT, DUB-CON/NON-CON, sexual content, , heavy profanity, mentions of drugs, alcohol use, oral (M), abuse of power, face-fucking, dacryphilia, hair pulling…

DARK CONTENT UNDER THE CUT. MDNI 18+

“Don’t be blamin’ me you damn dipshits!” You shouted over the phone as you struggled to boot your boots on. “How the hell did he even get kicked out?” You threw on your jacket.

“The hell was I supposed to know he was gonna get drunk?”

“You’re with him!”

“Jus’ get yer damn ass over ‘ere!”

“My license is suspended! Where’s your car?!

“The piece of shit broke down! It’s late, the cops ain’t gonna do anythin’.”

“Easy for you to fuckin’ say.” You groaned, grabbing Merle’s truck keys and walking out of the door. You angrily hung up on him, cutting off his cursing at Merle and loudly crashing.

You shoved the worn out key into the ignition, and felt that familiar click. You turned the key and waited for the engine to turn on. There’s a low rumble but then a silence.

You grumbled and turned the key again, it grumbled a little louder this time but nothing. “For fuck’s sake!” You shouted and tried it again, finally it turned on.

You changed gears and backed out of the driveway, and hurriedly drove to the only bar closest to where you all lived.

You again changed gears and turned on the radio as an attempt to calm down, but you knew it wasn’t helping when you were still cursing about Merle. You gripped the worn out steering wheel, trying to tune out the strange rumbling from the engine.

Urgency ran through your veins, and you didn’t pay attention to how fast you were going. It was nearly midnight, barely anyone was on the road.

From the familiar signs, you were at the outskirts of the town, just a couple of minutes away.

“Dammit!” You smacked the steering wheel as the red and blue lights appeared right behind you. A wave of uneasiness overcomes your anger, the last thing you wanted to was be arrested for evading the police.

The flashing lights illuminated the dark road as you pulled over, bringing the truck to a park. You can see from the mirror the officer leaving his car and speak to his radio.

You rolled down your window as he approached the truck, leaning towards the window. “Evenin’, ma’am. What brings you out here so late?”

You contained your frustration and put on a smile. “Just tryin’ to pick up my brothers from a bar.”

You felt like he stared longer than he should, you could see him scanning the inside of the truck, taking note of various Merle’s stuff scattered across the back seat.

“License and registration.” He asked.You reached over and opened the glove box and handed him your registration. He took the paper and lifted an eyebrow. “License?”

“Look officer…?” You looked at his badge but he beat you to it.

“Walsh.”

“Walsh, I don’t have it.”

You could see the disappointment in his eyes, he pulled out his pen and notepad. “Name and birthdate?”

“(Y/n) Dixon-”

“Dixon? Which would make you related to Merle Dixon?”

You reluctantly nodded. “Yes, he’s my brother. Look, I ain’t got time to talk. Can’t I just-”

“I’m assumin’ this ain’t your truck.” Before you could say anything else, he began to circle the truck with a lit flashlight in hand.

“Fuck me.” You mumbled, knowing Merle, he probably had some illegal substances hiding in wherever. “Fuck you Merle.” You cannot have a drug charge on your record, you could not have that.

“Can you step out of the vehicle for me?” He said out loud, coming back to the door.

“Officer-”

“Don’t make this difficult, Dixon.” He took a couple steps back, a hand on his hip as he waited for you. You unbuckled your seatbelt, turned off the truck and stepped out of it. “You have anythin’ you hidin’?” He questioned you.

“Nope.”

“Are you certain?”

“Yes.”

Shane smirked, turning off his flashlight. “You know what happens when you drive without a license?”

“Officer Walsh, my brothers need me to pick them up. Just write me a ticket and let me be on my way.”

“Drivin’ late at night, without a license? You know how dangerous it is?” He said. “Givin’ you a ticket ain’t gonna be enough.”

“Officer-”

“I’ll give you two choices.” Shane maneuvered around you, shutting the truck door, blocking the door. “I can arrest you and get you booked which could take…” He counted using his fingers. “A hour to a couple hours-”

“Then arrest me-”

“Minus waitin’ for your case.” Shane lowered his hands, grinning. “Or…” His hands reach for his belt, ready to unbuckle it. “You can get on your knees.”

“The hell I am-!”

Shane loudly hushed you. “You want me to turn a blind eye?”

You stumbled over your words, a mix of excuses and curses. But the shit eating grin was still on his face and when you took a glance at his crotch, he was already hard.

“You’re disgustin’.”

Shane shook his head and clicked his tongue. “Be a good girl, Dixon. Don’t be keepin’ your brothers waitin’.” He pulled himself out of his pants, and pumped himself slowly. “Get on your knees.”

“Fuck me.” You muttered under your breath, doing as he said.

“Don’t tempt me.”

You rolled your eyes and took him into your hands, jerking him off with a disgusted look on your face. You refused to look at him or his cock, keeping your gaze on the ground.

From base to head, you stroked, twisting your hand around it.

You wished to yourself that he would quickly cum and get on with your night. You tried to focus on something else and hoped that if anyone did pass by they wouldn’t see.

Shane grabbed a handful of your hair and pulled it back roughly, a gasp lifted your lips. He shoved his thumb into your mouth as the rest of his fingers held your face.

He breathed heavily and plunged himself into your mouth. He forced you down to the base, his pubic hair itching your nose, making it scrunch. His hips began to buck and your jaw slacked.

Your hand clutched his pants, your nails digging into them. Your eyes shut tightly as each time he touched the back of your throat, you gagged.

Your saliva dripped down your chin, and when he tugged at your hair, you whimpered. The pain was unbearable as he took joy in seeing you in pain, your hot tears spilled from the corners of your eyes.

“You’ve done this before?” Shane sneered at you, throwing his head back and moaning quite loudly. It was like he didn’t care if he got caught. “You sure have a fuckin’ talent!”

Shane didn’t care for any discomfort you were feeling, all the stress that Merle and Daryl caused in the past was being taken out on you.

He pulled back until it’s just the head of his cock in your mouth then thrusted back in. Again and again, his hand tight in your hair, thrusting as hard and deep as he could and his cock glistening with saliva.

“Look at me.” He panted. “C’mom, look at me.”

Your eyes fluttered open, your eyes snapped to his, watery and wide, full of anger.

He cursed at you, biting down on his lip as the orgasm builded in him. He then held your head still as he was so far deep that your body jerked.

Shane gave out a loud grunt as he came inside and down your throat. You started to choke, you punched his thigh a couple of times before he threw you off him.

You hit the ground, coughing. You hissed and wiped your mouth with the back of your hand. The salty and bitter taste in your mouth made you retch.

He let out a sigh of relief, tucking himself back into his pants. “Drive safely ma’am.” He laughed once again as he walked to his car. Once you were sure he drove off, you picked yourself up from the ground and quickly drove to the bar.

“Took yer sweet ass time!” Daryl shoved an unconscious Merle into the backseat before getting into the passenger side. “The hell happened?”

“Cops.” You packed out of the parking spot and drove, trying to focus on the road.

“Anythin’ happen? Ya alright?”

“Yeah, let me off with a warnin’.”

“Seriously-?”

“I’m tired Daryl. Just let me get this asshole home.” You couldn’t focus, not without the bitter taste in your mouth, drowning out Daryl’s attempts to wake his brother for his phone.

© Intoxicated-Chan 2024, I do not allow my work to be copied, translated, modified, adapted, or put on any other platform without my permission

#x reader #x female reader #shane walsh x y/n #shane walsh x reader #shane walsh #shane walsh x you #twd x y/n #twd x you #twd x reader #the walking dead x you #the walking dead x reader #the walking dead daryl #the walking dead fanfiction #the walking dead shane #the walking dead #The walking dead smut #shane walsh smut #twd smut #twd shane #twd daryl #twd fanfiction #jon bernthal #jon bernthal smut #jon bernthal x reader #jon bernthal x you

[ch3rrytales]

take care of yourself - remus lupin

a/n: hi everyone, i'm florie! i used to have another writing blog but i've sort of grown out of what i used to write so i thought i would start off fresh. so here's a quick little remus blurb for you :) requests are open. thanks for reading and all support and criticism is appreciated! (unedited)

pairing: remus lupin x fem!reader

summary: you just wanna take care of your boyfriend. your boyfriend is a stubborn git who thinks he can take everything on all on his own.

word count: 893

warning(s): none as far as i'm aware

You skipped up the steps to the girl’s dormitories, books still heavy in your arms. You longed for a warm cup of tea and the comfort of your bed, OWLs prep was steadily chipping away at your energy and you were sure you would practically burst into tears at the next mention of them. 

As you reached your door you could hear a faint grumble coming from inside, so before you entered you cracked it open a sliver and peeked in, finding it odd that someone would be inside as none of your roommates shared a free period with you. 

With a quick scan of the room, which appeared to be empty, you shuffled inside, toeing off your shoes and tossing your books onto the large mound of blankets atop your bed. When your books landed however the mound rustled and a pained groan cut through the room making you jump against the wall, a squeak of fear slipping past your lips. 

With your body rigidly pressed against the wall and your wand clutched tight in your hands you called out, “Sirius, if you’re trying to scare me again, I swear to Merlin I’ll cut off all your pretty hair. It stopped being funny after the first 4 times.” 

A head of sandy curls peeked out from the blanket and you felt relief seep into your bones. 

“S’just me, darling.” Remus mumbled, his voice much fainter than you were used to. 

You sighed and walked over to your bed, Remus haphazardly kicking his feet until your books fell to the floor. 

“Sorry,” you winced, placing a kiss on the top of his head.

“I’m fine.” he responded, opening the blanket as an invitation to join him. “M’sorry I scared you.” 

“Don’t worry about it.” 

You climbed in beside him and he immediately wrapped himself around your body, the action uncommonly needy of him.

“Are you alright?” you queried, twisting around in his grasp so you could see his flushed face. 

He huffed and twisted his fingers into your hair, “Actually, I feel quite shit.” 

“Sore?” you questioned, a genuine pout coming to your lips at the thought of the constant pain your sweet boyfriend was in. 

Remus laughed weakly and tightened his hold on you, “Always.” he replied. “But, that’s not it…it’s my head. S’been killing me since I woke up this morning.”

His eyes looked glossy as you looked up at them and you were suddenly aware of the intense heat radiating off of his skin. 

“Do you have a fever, Rem?” 

He shrugged and looked to the ceiling. 

“C’mere.” you cooed, sitting up. “Lemme check.” 

“Doesn’t matter, love.” he protested. “I’ve got an OWL in 30 minutes, can’t miss it. Jus’ needed to see you before I go.”

You rolled your eyes and took his face in your hands. “Who cares about the bloody OWL’s when my boyfriend is sick?” 

He raised his eyebrows as if in disbelief, but you could see the fondness lingering in his irises.  

“The world doesn’t stop turning just because I’m sick.” he argued. 

“Mhm,” you agreed. “It also won’t stop turning if you let someone take care of you every once in a while.” 

He ducked his head to hide the grin he was biting back. He was never quite sure what he did to deserve you but he found that questioning it was a rabbit hole he best stay away from. 

You pushed the hair off of his forehead and leaned forward, centimeters away from his face. 

“Nuh-uh.” he fought, leaning back. “You’re gonna get sick.” 

You used his temporary weakness to your advantage and pulled him back to you firmly until your foreheads were pressed together. 

“Stop whining.” you whispered fondly. “M’just checking your temperature.” 

‘You gotta thermometer in your forehead that I don’t know about?” he teased, his breath fanning over your bottom lip. 

“You’re burning up.” 

He bumped your nose with his own and smirked lamely, “You too, doll.” 

“Don’t flirt.” you scolded. “I’m assessing, Rem.” 

You pecked the tip of his nose, and pulled yourself off of the bed heading towards your dresser where you had stashed a pain draught for next month’s full moon. 

Remus burrowed himself further in the blankets, immediately missing your body against his. “What’s the diagnosis then?” 

You plopped onto the edge of the bed, “Probably just a little head cold.” you decided. “You can take this.” 

You handed him the little bottle. 

“Don’t need it.” he dismissed. “I need you to stop playing doctor and c’mere.” He opened his arms beckoning you to him. 

Ever appeasing, you crawled into his arms and laid your head on his sweater clad chest.

“You still have to take it.” you insisted. 

He rested his chin on your crown and breathed in your peachy shampoo. “I don’t need some measly pain medicine, just need m’girl is all.” 

“Rem,” you whined, pouting against him. 

“Alright, fine.” he huffed. “You know, you’re always getting your way w’me?” 

“Mhm.” you nodded. Grinning as you could feel his chest move swallowing the draught. 

He pushed his hands under your shirt, rubbing up and down a few times before resting his hands against the bare skin of your back, and kissing the top of your head lovingly. 

“And I wouldn’t have it any other way, love.” he admitted, finally letting his eyes close.

#remus lupin #remus lupin blurb #remus lupin drabble #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin x y/n #remus lupin x you #marauders imagine #maruaders x reader #marauders fluff

[sturnrm]

When u posting that ficccc

Right now !!

This was a requested story

~ HOTEL ~

Matt sturniolo X Dom!reader

Warnings: sub Matt, p in v,smut smut smut, riding d

“I’m sharing a room with my girlfriend Alex and your sharing with madi” chris said pointing to nick

“So Matt and y/n have to share a hotel room there’s no other spaces” Nicolas said heading with madi to their room.

Matt groaned rolling his eyes making his way to the room not even looking back at me, I don’t know what I ever did to him but damn he’s an ass.

“I can’t believe this is actually happening right now” Matt huffed

“Get over it neither one of us wanna share a room but what choice do we have, go sleep on the balcony if you are so mad about it” I rolled my eyes.

He didn’t say nothing but if looks could kill I would have DROP dead right there and then.

I had just finished unpacking my case, Matt was in the shower, I decided to post some pictures I took at the beach earlier that day to my Instagram.

Matt had finally got out the shower and I grabbed some shorts and an oversized shirt pulling the one I had on right now over my head then taking off my shorts, completely forgetting Matt was behind me.

I turn to him in my matching underwear his eyes scanning my body.

“Sorry I forgot” I quickly spoke heading to the bathroom.

I let the water hit my face before fully stepping under the hot water still semi embarrassed that matts basically just seen me naked.

—————————

Matts PoV

“Sorry I forgot” the words left her mouth as she practically ran to the bathroom.

I lay in bed scrolling through Instagram liking post, “damn” i huffed out as I landed on y/n’s new post. She’s so perfect, the way boobs sat perfectly, the way her wet hair stuck to her body and just the way she looked in that slutty swim suit.

I felt myself harden my hands slipping under my pants palming myself feeling myself grow as I swiped through the pictures from earlier.

I knew y/n would be about 10 minutes in the shower and that’s all I needed to finish, I pulled my pants and underwear down to my knees slowly rubbing my hand up and down my shaft.

Low moans escaped my lips quickening my pace continuing to look at pictures of her.

As much as y/n pisses me off, damn she’s so beautiful.

Thought from moments before of her turning to me in her matching red lingerie set flooded my mind.

“Fuck” I whimpered feeling myself getting closer to the edge.

The shower stopped running. Shit.

I jerked myself faster to the picture of her on the 5th slide, she was on her knees, head to the side.

I closed my eyes thinking about her boobs bouncing whilst she rides me taking every inch of my cock.

Although I knew she was about to walk out I didn’t stop, “fuck y/n” i groaned finishing in my hand.

Shit what did I just do.

I pulled my shirt over my head cleaning myself.

I heard the door unclick, I closed my eyes pretending like I didn’t just nut to pictures of her.

——

Y/N’s pov

I stepped out the shower slipping some shorts and an oversized T-shirt on, I brushed my hair smiling at myself as this long day had finally come to an end.

“Fuck y/n” I heard Matt moan from the room, my eyes widen as my stomach dropped. What is he doing ?

I opened the door looking over at the bed

“Matt was u ju-“ I cut myself off

matt was either sleeping and I’m hallucinating or he’s pretending I thought to myself.

I lay in bed brushing off what I just heard facing matt who was ‘asleep’ I closed my eyes feeling matts arm making its way to my waist, my heart pounded.

"matt i can feel you staring at me." I spoke before opening my eyes. he was already staring into them. fuck. I wanted to be mad at him for not letting me sleep, but i couldn't.

he laughed slightly before sliding his hand under my head, separating me and my soft pillow. I don’t know what came over me or why I’m feeling like this, maybe it’s because i just heard him moan my name or maybe it’s because as much as I hate to admit it hes the one thing that I sexually crave.

I leaned closer to him and he kissed my lips softly.

he pulled away for a moment as I

grinned. "Fuck come here." I said grabbing his face and brining it to mine,hungrily smashing our lips together.

I bit his upper lip and he licked my lower, and soon after matts tongue pried my lips apart. he sat me up against the headboard, not separating his lips from mine for a second. he unclasped my bra, taking a tit in his hand.

I gasped at his touch “You okay” he asked, I nodded his lips pressing back against mine

Every second that passed made the kiss more heated.

My tongue explored his mouth hands running up and down his body, I pushed him down straddling on top of him.

I slowly grinded my hips the kiss still not being broken his hands immediately grabbing my waist.

I got up sliding his pants off then sliding my shorts down kissing his torso all over my ass stuck in the air.

I kissed down to his member kissing it softly looking up at him, his jaw hung open.

I took his length down my throat gagging as the tip hits the back of my throat, he grabbed a fistful of hair pushing me up and down.

“Can you please just get on” he begged letting go of my hair and grabbing my thigh pulling me over him

“Is that what you would like” I whispered leaning down to his ear, he nodded in response

I lined his cock with my hole slowly sinking myself onto him

“fuck fuck fuck” I moaned out taking him all inside me

“Mmm y/n” he squeezed my thighs

“Not the first time I heard that come from ur mouth today” I joked

His eyes widened, his lips parted as he was about to speak but I cut him off by starting to bounce on his dick.

Matts eyes screwed shut one of his hands reaching up to my tit, my lips connected to his continuing to bounce on him swallowing eachothers moans.

“Your so uh- mmm fuck” he whimpered out

“So what” I ask smirking at him, his big submissive blue eyes looking back up at me

Matt couldn’t get a single word out it was all ‘ummms’ and ‘ahhh’ noises very time he tried too.

His dick filled my hole perfectly hitting all the right spots.

I felt my climax get closer as I knew his was aswell since I could feel him twitch inside of me.

I sucked on his neck, my hips slamming down on his.

I held his hands next to his head lifting mine up from his collar bone pressing my forehead against his.

“Fuckkk~ I’m s-so close” he mumbled

“Me too” I breathed out

I reached my climax as squirming and moaning throwing my head back

“Oh my god im cumming” he whimpered squeezing his eyes shut.

moments after I felt strings of hot liquid inside splurge inside of me.

———

We cleaned ourself up as I lay back down next to him

“I know what you was doing when I was in the shower” I giggle

Matt just rolled his eyes bringing me closer to him

“This is what you do to me y/n” he said right before passing out

—————

GUYS ITS FINALLY OUT !

sorry it took long to post I’m working on a series and I also have to revise so I got a lot going on at the moment I also have a lot of requests that I’m trying to do

#chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturn #sturniolo fanfic #nick sturniolo #sturniolo edit #sturniolo imagine #edit #smuty #smut #sturniolo smut #fupシ #matthew sturniolo #matthew #stromboli

[gxdsfavgal]

Brotherly

Pairings: Shelby Brothers x reader

Warnings: based on season 5, no canon events, there's no violence in this only bc idk how to write that properly

Request: I would love something with Finn and his brothers like Finn gets hurt and they all get protective ( John still alive ) thank you xx

A/N: ahhh first time writing Peaky Blinders!! this is around 1.4k words

-

-

We weren’t doing anything, just leaned up against a brick wall talking it up. Just Finn, Isaiah, and I. Normal things that we do when we’re not doing shit for Tommy.

That’s when it hit. Brick flying everywhere, dust sticking to our hair and skin. Ours ears ringing. The bright cloudy sky immediately turning dark as my body collapsed.

I look up from the ground where I laid, the building we were leaning against was blown up. My lungs burned as I got up to my hands and knees, my body tingling. I blinked my eyes up at the bright sky.

“Get up! Get up!” I heard muffled.

“Get up!” Isaiah yelled as he pulled me up by my arms, dragging me to the other side of the road.

He sat me down on the floor, holding my shoulders trying to see if I was injured.

"Does anything hurt?" he asked, but my ears were still ringing.

Isaiah did a quick scan of my body, checking my back, my arms, my legs, and more. My mind was running 1000 miles per second, until it wasn't. I had quickly snapped out of it as I was replaying the scene in my mind.

“Where’s Finn?” I was able to say with a coarse throat.

“I-I don’t know.” he looked back at the scene trying to scan the area.

“Did you look for him, Isaiah?” I look up at his face, seeing that he was also covered in stone. He has a gash on his forehead and chin, bleeding down his neck.

“Shit, you’re hurt.” I stood up from the ground, starting to assess his injuries.

“It’s just cuts.” He lowered my hands away from his face. “I don’t know where Finn is.”

Concern was flowing out of him through his tense shoulders and watery eyes.

“Fuck. Okay, go to Tommy. Come back.” I moved past him to look through the rubble as he ran to get Tommy.

“Finn!” I yelled out, standing at the edge of the broken bricks.

I scan the area to see if I can see him. Nothing. Nothing but bricks and wood.

I began to think that he’s dead, wondering what the fuck i’m going to tell the Shelby’s. Started to think about the hell that will be raised if Finn is not found alive.

“There’s a body here!” a elder lady yelled frantically, her weak hands trembled as she began to pull away bricks.

I quickly ran towards her and began pulling the bricks off, revealing a unconscious Finn. His body limp as I couldn’t tell if his chest rose and fell.

“Water! I need water and a towel!”

The lady immediately ran into her home to grab the things I need: water, towels, and vodka. I didn’t even have to ask.

The other civilians watching from afar, gossiping and pointing.

"What the fuck are you all looking at? None of you fucking helped!" I screamed out as I was revealing more and more of his body with each brick taken away.

She handed me the water and towel. I poured the water over him to clean his face, not wanting him to inhale more dust.

I noticed a deep cut on the side of his head, which can even mean brain damage. At this point, I won’t know until he wakes up.

“Where the fuck is he?” I heard a familiar voice yell out into the streets.

“Tommy!” I yelled over my shoulder as I continued to clean up his younger brother.

Tommy, Arthur, and John jogged up towards me with Isaiah following behind.

“Everyone back to your homes!” Arthur advised, everyone obeying quickly.

The streets were quiet with the civilians watching through their windows.

“Fuck, Finn.” Tommy crouched down near me as he rubbed his own face.

"What happened?" Tommy's nose flared.

“I- I don’t know what happened. We didn't do anything." My hands were shaking as I was tending to his younger brother.

Tommy's face was emotionless, it sent more chills around my body. I didn't know what he was thinking about, what he was going to do.

"W- We were just talking a-and then I woke up on the street. Right Isaiah?” I looked up at him as he shared the same hectic look as me.

“You two are fine. Make sure Finn is too.” John spoke up as the two older brothers began to assess the scene.

“Okay, I have to pour Vodka to prevent the wounds from contracting infection.” my face winced at the thought of the feeling.

Isaiah held Finn’s shoulders as I began to pour the alcohol onto the large gash on his head.

A loud and excruciating scream ripped out of Finn’s throat. His body jumping off the ground, legs flying up in the air but thankfully Isaiah held him down.

The brothers quickly ran over from the sound of the scream. Tommy’s face showed how he wanted to calculate and execute this as safely as possible.

“Take him to your house.” Tommy ordered.

“My house?” I yelled out in confusion.

“Your house. Let’s go!” The two other brothers carried Finn to the back of their car with me tending to him while Tommy ordered Isaiah and the others.

The drive was fast, soon enough we were rushing into my family’s kitchen and swiping cups off of our dining table.

“What in God’s name?” my mother yelled as she ran down the stairs from all the ruckus.

“Finn is hurt.” I reassured her.

She immediately grabbed her medical bag from the counter, opening it up to reveal all her tools.

Finn was groaning on the table as she examined his cuts, the adrenaline getting to him.

His eyes blown wide and shaky, his hands trembling.

“You’re in good hands.” I cooed as I cleaned his wounds better for my mother.

“Who did this?” Tommy asked as he leaned against the counter, smoking.

“I don’t know, but I think you guys do.” I looked at him as I crossed my arms.

He silently nodded his head, knowing who he’s pissed off recently.

"The fucking Billy Boys." Arthur mumbled.

"We'll get them for you Finn!" John yelled with a cheer and a smile. "We'll fucking get them!"

Arthur and John is already following behind Tommy as he stormed back into their car, handgun and steering wheel both gripped in his hand.

I didn't know where they were going, but I knew that at least one man was going to die. God knows that it wasn't any of the Shelby boys. Polly made sure God was on her side.

Finn seemed like he was going into shock with the way his jaw clenched and his eyes shaky. I'm holding him down as my mother picks away debris from the open flesh on his head.

"Are you hurt?" My mother whispered as she kept a steady hand.

"I don't think so." I said but got a stern look from her. "No. No, I'm not hurt."

She quickly nodded and went back to tending to Finn.

"You shouldn't h- you shouldn't have been there." Finn was able to speak out through his clenched teeth.

"I'm a Peaky Blinder." I shook my head side to side as I threaded the needle for my mother.

She scoffed from the side. We all knew that's how my father died, being a Blinder. She didn't want me to follow behind him.

"This is going to hurt." she told Finn as she waved the needle in front of his eyes.

I grabbed a kitchen rag and stuffed it between his jaws, hooping that it will muffle his screams.

My mom and I nodded to each other as I held Finns arms down.

The sharp metal pierced his skin over and over, his groans and screams barely muffled by the piece of cloth I lended.

It was quickly over. We splashed some vodka on it and even gave the bottle to Finn so he can nurse it. We bandaged him up and check for any other injuries on him.

Finn rested on the couch, his body tired from the amount of adrenaline that rushed through him.

While my mother and I was cleaning up, the Shelby brothers strutted through our front door.

There the three were, covered in blood but none of them hurt. It truly was a miracle every time.

"He's all patched up." My mother spoke up, eyeing the floor and her furniture to see if they've made any stains.

"Thank you." Tommy reached into his pocket, taking out a large wad of cash and handing it to me.

"Oh no, I cannot accept." I pushed his hand away.

"You put Finn first even when you were in the accident too." he held out the money again.

"For God's sake." My mother walked her way over in front of me. "I accept."

She took the money with a smile and went back to cleaning.

"What'd you all do?" Finn groaned out as he slowly walked from the living room to the kitchen where we all stood.

"Left a little message for Jimmy McCavern." Arthur chuckled out as he held out a bullet to Finn.

Finn was too weak to grab it, so he nodded for me to get it for him. I spun the bullet in my palm, examining each and every crevice.

"McCavern." I whispered out as my thumb slid over the engraving.

"Do I get the shot?" Finns eyes shot up to Tommy.

Tommy silently nodded with the side of his mouth slightly curled up.

"You get to shoot him in between his fucking eyes." John said nonchalantly.

#gxdsfavgals masterlist #cmac</3 #peaky blinders #tommy shelby #arthur shelby #john shelby #finn shelby #polly shelby #polly gray #michael gray #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinders smut #peaky blinders fluff #peaky blinders angst

[siempre-bucky]

Hello 🧡 may i make a request for TOP GUN BLURB NIGHT? Bob with the prompt (going to an amusement park, sharing a kiss in the alley way)

Please and thank you!

Bob Floyd x Reader

wc: 824

a/n: thank you for requesting my dear! I hope you like it!!

At first, you weren’t sure what a first date with Bob would’ve been like. You were expecting something quiet like a trip to walk along the sandy beach or a simple dinner and movie where he didn’t have to talk. You didn’t expect a carnival for your first date with the shy wso, and you certainly didn’t expect to learn so much about him in one night. 

You first learned that he was a gentleman, everything a young man should be. He arrived on time with flowers in hand, Bob dressed in his casual clothes alone made you want to invite him inside and skip the event altogether. He never let you open your door, playfully smacking your hand once or twice when you tried out of habit. Your wallet? Forget about it. Bob respectfully told you to put it away. 

“Bob it’s just lemonade, I got it,” you laughed, holding up your wallet. 

He shook his head and pouted his lips, “No, ma’am. Can’t let you do that,” he smirked. Heat rose to your cheeks, but you lowered your wallet and snatched the cash he held between his fingers, murmuring that you’d buy him something before the night was over. 

You then learned he was a little league champion pitcher and that he didn’t respond to the game booth worker's taunts kindly. “They’re assholes, Robby, don’t buy into that,” you told him, holding onto his arm. The dark blond shook his head and walked over, the baseball fitting nicely in his hand. The sight of it made you weak in the knees, you suddenly had a thing for baseball players. 

It was so very hot watching him adjust his glasses and seeing how his arm muscles flexed as he threw the ball. “For you,” he hummed as he held out a small brown bear from the dumbfounded worker to you. You took it gladly in one hand and held his hand with the other. 

“Did you play a lot as a kid?” you asked as you walked, your eyes scanning the happy crowd. 

Bob nodded as his thumb swiped along your hand for comfort, “Y-yeah, played all the way through high school. Some of my wso friends and I get together and play when we’re stateside,” he admitted shyly, obviously, he didn’t enjoy talking about himself, but you loved when he did.  

He talked your ear off, swapping stories as you stood in line for rides and for food. He told you of his childhood and you shared about the town you grew up in. You learned that he had a weak stomach for food smells, one whiff of a turkey leg stand and it cut him off mid-story. You held him up and guided him out of the area, placing him on a lone bench.

“Are you ok?” you asked, searching his face for discomfort. 

“I-I’m ok,” he grumbled while he held his stomach, “That truck just smelled really bad—jus’ got a little nauseous,” he tried to laugh it off. You smiled and rubbed his back before telling him you were going to buy him some water. For once, he didn’t protest which made you smile, happy that you could do something for him.  

You sat there for a while, talking and watching the people pass you. His knee bumped into yours and you didn’t flinch away, his touches were always soft. You assumed physical touch was his love language. His hand always seemed to find yours when in a crowd, he thought himself to be daring by putting his hand on your knee. “Are you feeling better?” You asked. Bob blushed and nodded sheepishly. 

“Much better, I’m sorry we had to take a break.” 

You giggled and took his hand, pulling him up with you. 

He was a boy scout, he told you in line for the Gravitron. “We were earning our camping badge and one of the other kids swore he was a UFO in the sky,” he blurted out, his blue eyes watching the machine spin rapidly. 

“A baseball player, a boy scout, and a weapons systems officer—do you have any more surprises for me, Floyd?” you giggled, nudging him with your elbow. Bob jokingly covered his stomach and let out the prettiest laugh you’d ever heard. 

Bob did in fact have one more surprise up his sleeve: he was the best kisser in the world. The way Bob had you pinned up against the wall with his hands digging into your hips and a knee between your legs had you melting. The alley was dark enough so you wouldn’t be seen but you could still see the bright fluorescent lights on his features. “Robby,” you whined as he pulled back, dragging your lower lip between his teeth. 

“Is this ok?” he asked, his voice low and husky near your lips. 

You nodded eagerly and cupped his face, “Don’t stop,” you whispered before crashing his lips back into yours.

#bob floyd #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd x you #bob floyd imagine #bob floyd blurb #top gun #top gun maverick #siempre-buckys top gun blurb night

[danganronpafan777]

Teruya Otori x Reader Comfort

A/n: Things haven’t been going great, and I had a pretty shitty day. Decided to write this since Teruya is my favorite character, and I wish I could help brighten someone else’s day. Idk, I hate how this turned out and might delete it later.

Welcome to part 4 of ideas that no one asked for; under the cut for depressing themes

"...Y/n?"

At the sound of your name, you approached the door. It was a tiring day. Every day just felt like an opportunity to prove your worth by being useful, and every day, you failed. A part of you yearned for company, while another just wanted to be left alone with your thoughts. 

They knocked at the door. You were snapped out of your thoughts and opened the door. 

You recognized the voice of course, he was your boyfriend after all. 

"Yeah, Teruya?"

Teruya held his hand behind his back and looked up at you with his green eyes that never failed to make you swoon. However, his mouth seemed to twitch, and his eyes seemed to scan you before he finally spoke,

"...Is everything okay?"

"...?"

Everything was fine. That's what you told yourself. That's how you got through every day. That's how you got through the tears and the stress. That's how you got past your sob story that no one would care to hear.

"I'm fine."

Teruya continued to stare at you. He blinked a few times before asking again,

"..A-Are ya sure? Ya seemed a lil'... off today." 

Huh... no one else seemed to have cared. So why did he? Why would someone as kind as him ever like you?

"I'm alright, what about you?"

"...I wanna talk 'bout you." 

"What about me?"

You were beginning to feel irritated. Why was he wasting his time with you? Teruya was the heir to a giant company, and loved his job just as much as he loved his friends. Why was he throwing it away for you?

Teruya was hesitant in his response, instead using his hand to open the door a bit more. Now the two of you were completely face to face. 

"..."

"..."

"Y/n, can I hold your hand?"

You were confused, but slowly held your hand out. Teruya took it, curling his fingers around your hand.

"What's wrong?"

"There's nothing wrong, Teruya."

"...You're not happy right now. And I want you to be happy Y/n."

"It's not that simple."

"I-I know...but... whenever I was sad, my pops would always stay with me and bring me som' candy, and it always made meh feel betta. So I wanna do the same fo' you!"

You couldn't help but chuckle at his expense as he brought out your favorite treats, placing them on a nearby table. He was sweet. It was only natural that he'd pity someone like you.

"I don' pity yah! I love you, Y/n!" He cried. Did you say that out loud? How stupid were-

Your thoughts were interrupted as your boyfriend threw his arms around you. Teruya nuzzled into your shoulder, the same way you would nuzzle his neck whenever you teased him. 

Was he crying too? You'd never forgive yourself if you made him cry.

"I love ya, Y/n... and I'm here for you. I jus' wan' ya to know dat..."

"....why?"

"Huh?"

"Why are you here for me? Don't you have better things to do?"

"...There's nothing more importan' than you, Y/n."

What isn't more important than you? What did he even see in you? Couldn't he see that..

"...I'm worthless." The words slipped out. You didn't even bother to stop them. It was like you wanted to say it but hated yourself for it after. Just like every other goddamn thing you did in your life.

"N-No! You're.. you're not worthless, Y/n... Why would you think that?? I- I love ya! S-So much! I think about ya every day and I don' kno' wha'd I'd do without ya!" Teruya cried, looking back up at you and holding you tighter. His words made you feel nothing but numb.

"..."

"...Y/n... have I evah told you how proud I am of ya? I'm thankful for every day I spend with ya, and our whole class wouldn't be happy without ya! W-We all love you, Y/n. I know it's hard righ' now, but I kno' you'll get through it! I'm here for you. Every step of the way." Teruya's fingers fiddled a bit with your own. He kept eye contact, even as his face was coated in a light blush.

Your eyes burned a bit with tears, but you just held him and didn't let go. The two of you sat like that for a while, and you began to tell him about your day. He stayed quiet through your rant, rubbing your back and giving your hand a small squeeze every few minutes.

Whether you knew it or not, you were everything to him. Even if you thought the world was against you, he was always by your side. Even if the world thought of you as one person, to him you were the world.

Art by @hydrabeebers on Pinterest

#teruya otori #teruya otori x reader #dra x reader #dra #danganronpa another #danganronpa x reader

[grizzlybearsarecool]

Thanks for da likes and follows from the beautiful (I had a little malfunction there I forgot how to write beautiful hehe..) people and.... My Todoroki one got likes a little fast so what's my hero academia without cinnamon roll deku right?

*SOFT SURFACE*

Spelling mistakes, wrong use of words sorry about those

This is FLOOF I mean simply Fluff! And a UNLIMITED CUTE IZUKU MIDORIYA!! Ahem... Carrying on....

•sometimes, you should thank the friend that exposed your liking towards someone•

It was a beautiful day.. the sun was smiling.., PERFECT temperature, the wind taking your hair on a ride, you didn't feel sleepy, and you were early .

You were peacefully sitting on your chair inside your class untill one of your classmates arrive. As you were zoning off staring into a Blank wall while imaging a fake scenario of you being a total badass. You saw Kirishima enter the classroom, you were quiet amazed "you were the last person that was on my mind to enter the class this early.. I expected bakugo!" You said joyfully "oh no! He's here he was here before me technically but he went somewhere else to do something he told me it was none of my business" he said as he smiled at you with his shark like teeth showing witch is supposed to be scary but it made you we warm. "OI! Shitty hair did you take my drink?!?" He screamed which made both of you jump at his oh so angelic voice (he's pointing a gun at me 😭) "oh, yea you left it on the bench I took it because I thought you forgot it! Here.." he handed it over "DO YOU THINK IM THAT IRRESPONSIBLE HUH?!?" he shouted, but yet sounded like those angelic high notes in choirs (hElp 🙏) "dude it isn't like that! I jus-" he got cut off by the handsome spik- (OMG IM SORRY DONT KILL ME HAVE MERCY BAKUGO!) gentleman " WHA-" now he got cut off by the REAL ANGLE "Shut up! My brain can't process a fight this early so shh don't you have stuf- nvm" you cut off mid sentence because you didn't want anymore chaos happening.

Soon one by one of your classmates entered inside the classroom totally not looking like dead corpses. But as the dead was entering the spotlight was taken away by the All Might obsessed Izuku Midoriya approaching you and slapping two movie tickets on your desk "PLEASE COME TO THE MOVIES WITH ME BECAUSE NO ONE ACCEPTED MY INVITATION TO WATCH YOUR FAVOURITE MOVIE... THAT DIDN'T MEAN THEY HATE IT OR SOMETHING THEY JUST DIDN'T-" you cutoff holy child's gibberish speaking and said "whoa dude, slow down are you ok and it isn't even that hot in here and you are sweating for a second I thought you fell into a pool!" You said as you tried to process everything he said "BAHAHAHAHAA, YOUR SO FUNNY BUT CAN YOU PLEASE GO WITH ME BECAUSE IM LONELY AND IM SCARES OF THE DAR-" he posed and thought about the words he said •they won't bully me about it right? I'm probably a definition of coward to them right now! But.. anything for Y/N-chan to come with me!• he thought in his clean mind "your scared of wha- nvm that but perfect timing Izuku because I wanted to got watch it really bad and I'm free too!" You said excitingly " OH REALLY!? Thank you so much!" He said as he started walking in a weird way...

You were done with your morning classes and now it's time for food ! You can't even remember what anyone said you don't even know what you had! You were still a little worried about Izuku's way of talking to you. You went to his women killing room mate and and scanned with your eyes around the lunch room to see if Izuku was near by so you can ask him and hopefully get rid of your curiosity " hey pokéball!" You said joyfully "oh hey Y/N, would you please consider not calling me pokéball I prefer icyhot or half-and-half" he said in his calm voice "oh hell no, besides I don't like copying you know? Never mind that but do you know what's up with Izuku?" You said curiously "oh, I think you mean the way he talked to you this morning right? He has a 'big crush' on you according to what I heard him say when he deflated himself on the floor as he regret saying he's afraid of the dark to someone..." He said "what!" You said as you formed into mina "yes, you should be careful.. I'll try talking him out of his thought of crushing you to death but lock your doors and windows before going to bed.." he said like a concerned father. "Huh? Never mind you and your thinking right Todoroki but are you sure he said ..'big crush?'" you whispered the two words "yes, oh look izuku's coming you should give him some space to sit we have important business to talk about-" he stopped as he saw your inner sonic appear as you ran fast. "Was Y/N talking to you?" Cinnamon butt cheeks said (oml what wrong with my simile's 😭) "yes, she asked me about you wired behavior and I said you have a big crush on her now you have no chance to crush her- Midoriya?" He said worriedly looking at his pale face "You- s-said w-h-what?.." he said dumfoundedly. "I said 'you have a big crush on he-" He was cutoff by a deflated balloon Midoriya on the floor.

TIME FOR THE MOVIE GURLLLL-

You were getting all dolled up to accept or confess or whatever to be izuku's "OMG IN GONA BE A GIRLFRIEND!" You said excitedly. You went to izuku's dorm since he was late to show up to yours and knocked on his door " hey! Izuku!" You heard clashing inside of the room you got a little worried and said "hey, is everything... Okay?" You heard more clashing. You got worried so bad you tried opening the door surprisingly it was open "Izuku?" You said concerned •dammit why do I always forget to lock the door• Izuku cursed to him self while hiding under his bed "Izuk- hey what are you doing under the bed, bro what?" You said confusingly •oh, I got caught I'll just act like nothing happened maybe todoroki was just joking with me• he got out from the hiding place "uh... H-hi!" He said nervously "hey izu, didn't you get ready!?!" You said as you were looking at his face which made him have butterflies "oh yea, sorry about that I'll be quick stay here" he clumsily walked to the bathroom with his clothes and everything while celebrating the fact todoroki joked at him which is sus but what else should he think right?.

After a while you both got ready and started walking to cinema peacefully untill you decided to be brave and hold his hand "this is okay right?" You asked while trying to read his reaction 'y-yeah it-its fine" he said as he was turning to a pink flower that just got some butterflies attention. He held his stomach as he felt the butterflies going crazy in there "sooo.... I heard you have a crush on me is... Is this true or Is it just a lie" he froze then and there •of course todoroki didn't lie that's totally suspicious of him-• "umm.. I know your too shy to admit so let me just say I like you too.. Izuku Midoriya" you said as you rubbed your neck nervously.

He's falling... not to mention he fell into a soft surface that was suspicious.. the ground is normally hard and he is supposed to be bleeding to death by now.. he looked up and saw you red face after a few seconds he has processed the fact that he was on y/n's soft cuddlable boobies, he turned into a beetroot as he started mumbling apologies to you and saying he should suffer himself for doing this to you "ARE YOU Crazy izu? It was just an accident besides you didn't tell me the answer... " you grabbed his face and made him get face you and said "you like me or not sweetie?" You said Izuku was internally dieing it was so damn hot "YE-yes i- I lov- like you v-veh-very muha-much.." he said as he was falling apart by being so close to your face. he successfully built his confidence to kiss you and he tried leaning in but.." so you just like me? I was told you loved me though.." You said dramatically you were technically the queen of teasing so it's your job to tease ya know? "Huh... Oh-oha-ohaky u-uh i-i l-loa-louw you vewy much" he said as you were squeezing his freckled red cheeks and then he finally received his price "good boy!" You kissed him gently and I took him to a trip to cloud 9 "thank you momm-" he said but the last word made you smirk "what did you just say?" You said smug "NOTHING" He shouted "okay then, let's move on shall we, I don't like wasting prescious money on movie tickets and not going to them" you said as sarcasm dripped down like blood. "Okay.." he said as you both held hands and made your way to you movie...

~THE END~

I hope ya'll like it if you like my work please feel free to double tap and give me a note a.k.a like

If you wanna see more of my work feel free to follow me to and sorry about the spelling mistakes and all babes! Love ya! Goddesses and have a great day byeees!..

#grizzlybearsarecool #mha izuku #mha x reader #mha #my hero academia #colour ful text #izuku has a crush on reader #midoriya has a crush one reader #deku has a crush on reader #izuku midoriya #deku #flirty reader #flustered #flustered deku #mha fluff #mha romance #movie date #confident reader #SOFT SURFACE #Soft Surface

[solarianradiance]

The Caravan rolled it’s way along the road, back to the Corwin’s farm and there the Kindred found a sight most Grim.

Goblins. Everywhere. Dead ones specifically, while many of the bodies were intact, a large number of the corpses were missing limbs, guts strung about and some bodies were just mangled beyond reconition.

“Oh Good Lord the stench!” Commented Monique. “What the Heck happened?”

“Goblin Raid, obviously.” Said Dixon, almost giving into being sarcastic. He scanned the farm as he brought the Wagon to a stop near the House. While there was a bit of damage and blood all over the place, nothing too serious save for a broken window or two. But he had greater concerns than property damage. “CHARLOTTE!!!” He screamed.

There was no reply, which sent a mild chill of worry down the Patriarchs spine. “JIMMOK! CHARLOTTE!!!”

“WAT?!” Screamed a shrill annoyed voice of the Orc, putting Dixon at ease as she came out of the House, glancing around to spot the source of her annoyance. “Oh you’re back. Good. See you brought some friends wid-ya.” She then sniffed the air deeply. “Tha’ who I think it is?”

“Aaaay, Charlotte!” Cried Jebidiah. “Been a couple years! Brought ya a fe-”

“Got fatter I see.” She said, planting the seed of mild annoyance in Jeb. “What were they feedin ya in the land of the higher n’ mighter than the Northerners? Pig slop? Or were ye jus’ being lazy and rode the wagon ere’where like usual?”

Her words conjured up a ping of embarrassment cutting deep into Jeb. “See the ole Nanny ain’ uh… ain’ changed one bit. Here I was hoping ya did.”

Charlotte spat on the ground and gestured around the area. “Forgive me fer not greetin ya in mah prettiest dress then, oh lord’a’tha’manor! Case ya’ hadn’ noticed, we had some uninvited guests!” She said, her words thick with syrupy venomous sarcasm.

“Cut the crap Charlotte, what happened!? Jimmok okay? Dogs? Livestock?”

“Luv ya’ too Boss boy!” She said with a playful smirk.

“Oh hush, we all know you’d be the one to survive anything!” Monique countered.

“Like I said, uninvited guests!” Charlotte began as she approached the Wagons. “Gobs ‘ttacked bout an hour ago. Swarmed the farm they did, hundreds of em!”

“Hundreds?!” Asked Phoebe, bargining in on the conversation. “How!? Was it a Warband?”

“Nah, far more than a mere war party. Musta been the whole clan of the bastards.” Answered the old Orcish Woman. “Saw plenty of lil Goblets among em, hangin near them extra thicc Goblette sows far from the fightin. Most of em steered clear of the foightin as they done rushed cross the fields like piglets runnin from Wulves.”

“Which means one’o you didn’ do ya checks properly this morning and let one them wards go weak!” Dixon scolded Bonnie and Pheobe.

“That can’t be!” Protested Bonnie. “We double checked every post, just as you ordered!”

Dixon wanted to reprimand her for her back talk, but trusted her judgment. Charlotte spoke again before he could.

“Nah, they didn’ care ‘bout the Wards.” The elderly lady commented. “They were lookin fer the weakest point n’plowin thorugh it, sprogs in tow n’everythin. Didn’ stop em!”

“Damn!” Said Jeb. “Must’ve been fleein from somethin scary if they took grit and went through them wards!”

A sudden rumble of footsteps could be heard. “Zat who I think it is?!” Bellowed the voice of Jimmok the Ogre as he stepped around the house. When he saw Jeb he grinned and came even closer. “IT IS!! HAHA! HOW YA DOIN LIL BOSS!?”

“Jimmy Jim Jim Jimmy Jimmok!” Cried out Jebidiah as she made his own way towards the towering Ogre.

The two embraced eachother in a great hug, Jimmok was still far larger, Jeb wasn’t as nearly as Dwarfed as someone such as Josiah Dixon would be. In fact, Jebediah looked like a dark skinned smaller reflection of Jimmok, but wearing Orange and far less bloody.

“Ows mah lil buddy been?” Asked he Ogre as he tightened his hug a little in a bid of familial affection, but not too much, knowing full well that even the like of Jeb would be crushed like a berry. “Ah, seems like ya got bigger since I last saw you!”

“Hah, I ain’t any talla since I last saw ya!”

Jimmok let his dear friend. “I know! I meant you seemed to be a bit wider!” He then poked Jeb in the belly with his finger.

“I could say the same to you!” Jeb chuckled as he jabbed the Mini-Behemoth in the gut, something Ogre barely felt. “Been eatin three hawgs a day ‘stead’a’two?”

“Eh, tryin to cut back lately, so I only eats a few dozen Sheeps instead!” While the joke wasn’t very funny and they both knew it, the two laughed heartily anyways, all because they were happy to enough to be in each others company again.

“S’good to see you bein in good health old buddy… even if you got… things sticking outta you.” Jeb gestured to the spears and arrows sticking inside the Ogre’s body, namely his back. “The Hell happen to you?”

“Kinda obvious they gave me a hard time. Kept shootin at me, thinkin they could get through muh skin… guess they never fought the likes o’me huh? Kinda easy bein big as a barn as I is!”

“Sure looks like you gave these suckers plenty cause to know they made an error.” Dixon added.

“Did ya have’ta be so damn messy though!?” Monique asked with a bit of anger. “Look at all this gore! Looks like a Fox got in the chicken coop!”

“Heh, I think m’self more as a Coyote than a Fox.” Grinned the Orcess as she stroked her knife as she observed her work as a pleased craftswoman.

“Oh God, quit actin like a Butcher!” Monique moaned in dramatic frustration at the Orcs Sadism. “I dunno sugar, always seems like an apt title for my ole’ Nanny.” Dixon countered.

“That it is Josie~” Agreed Charlotte, pleased with her old charges approval.

“EEEWWW!!” Exclaimed a plethora of young girls in unison.

“Good Heavens what the bloody, bloody, bloody Hell happened out here?!” Yelled Kentucky.

“Yeah, we done walked into a slaughterhouse by the looks of it.” Missouri stated, a fact most obvious.

“Zat all y’all were shootin at earlier? Buncha Gobs?” Asked Arkansas, her question peppered with sour disappointment. She was expecting something a bit more interesting than glorified pests.

“Told ya!” Tenny said with confidence and a snort as she rubbed her nose. “Should trust yer nose more!”

“All we could smell was the fancy flower perfume stuff in the wagon ya dumb fool, you know that?”

Tenny took her now empty sack of chips and started filling I with bits of Goblins. “Maybe if ya stopped sniffin around-”

“TENNY WHAT ARE YA DOIN?!” Yelled Monique, startling the Raccoon girl.

“T-taken these Gob-guts fer later!” Tenny stuttered, shaken by her Mothers anger.

“Well stop it! S’disgustin n filthy!” Spat the irrate Matriarch.

“But it’ll go to waste! Gob-guts makes good bait n’ string!” Tenny begged.

“Shes’ roight!” Added Charlotte, still holding a pleased grin. “Makes good bait it does! ‘Tracts plenty of prey that way! Raptor in particular!” Charlotte was partially right, but she was mostly teasing, as the smell of blood attracted most any predator, but kept prey away, especially other Goblins in this case..

“S’all the reason to cease your encouragin! NOW STOP IT!!” Demanded the Mother. But Tenny ignored her and kept taking handfuls of Goblin bits and innards, a mistake Monique would not let go unpunished. “Oh no you don’t.” She then swiftly untied her boot and stood up on the wagon to take aim. Tenny then realized her error too late as she tried to bolt for cover from her Mothers wrath only to feel it upon the back of her head from a hard ‘thwack’ as the boot landed on the back of her skull, knocking the little rascal fact first into the dirt, nearly knocking her unconcious.

“NOW BRING IT BACK!” Monique ordered.

The sisters around her giggled, partially out of how funny it looked and partially out of stressful empathy. They too all felt their mothers wrath that way a few times. Though to be honest, the boot was a sign of mercy, if she was angry, really angry, she would use the belt, that was traumatic.

But if things got particularly bad, their Father would step in and use the belt, or worse, give a flogging. Thankfully, such a punishment was only used four times on the farm, twice on Phoebe, once on Louisiana, once on Dixie and Arkansas. Everytime before that was always on Virginia, and that was when she was a Hellraiser on the Plantation.

The only punishment that would be on the table would be a lashing with a whip and it was never used. But it was considered when Virginia broke an old ancestral statue in a tantrum. Father went and got the Overseer to get the his whip so he could do the lashing himself, but Monique stopped him and argued it down to a flogging by Monique instead at the time. She was 9 years old when it happened and that was all that saved her from getting permanent scars to remind her of her intentional act of destruction.

Bonnie got a share of her punishments, as did Georgia, especially by their Grandparents and occasionally the Elderly slaves with little better to do than looks after the children, but Virginia was as viscous and spiteful as a Proud Cat and would take nothing but the most stinging of punishments lying down. Even belting her across the face would have only spur her on at times like it was some sort of challenge to her own authority.

Thankfully, those days seem mostly gone and it’s just getting a boot to the head, something their mother would occasionally remind the girls that if they displease her too much, she has it in her will, they will each receive one at the reading of it by the Lawyer.

“Said bring it back dammit! Not lay there!” Monique demanded again.

Tenny picked herself up off the ground, rubbing her coony colored scalp, hoping a knot didn’t form. She picked up the boot and proceed to return it to her mother, who merely stuf her foot out.

“Now put it on.” Her Mother commanded her.

Tenny obeyed, she slip boot onto her Mothers foot and began to tie the laces, but before she could finish, the irate pregnant woman gave her daughter a mild kick to the cheek. “Wrong knot! Start again!”

Tenny obeyed with a huff and started over.

“So are all the-” Monique began to ask the Orc before stopping as she heard a ‘sQUlch’ and the stamping of a puddle.

She looked around to hear what it was and spotted Alabama stomping on the various bodyparts of the dead Goblin, heads, organs, all while seemingly giggling like a child stepping on puddle or dirt in a most morbid manner.

“ALABAMA!!” Shouted her Mother, causing the girl jolt in fear and everyone to give Alabama their full attention. “STOP...THAT… NOW.” She commanded her child. “That ain’t what Ladies do! Ain’t what decent folk do!”

Alabama, despite being a touch slow, was more than quick to obey her mother when she was angry. “Y-yes mama…” The girl said with a shiver, like she felt the biting breeze from an Icewind Dale in the dead night of a Fimblewinter. She stepped away from the carcasses and went up to her elder sister Georgia for comfort, which was given freely.

Monique then gave a huff through her nose. “Look at you both, y’all made ya dresses dirty. GEORGIA!!”

“Y-yes Mother?” Asked Georgia, trying to hide her timidity for the sake of Alabama.

“Take Tenny n’ Bammy inside, give em baths and make em clean their clothes good! Understand?” Dictated the Matriarch.

“But I ain’ dirty!! I done bathed yesterday!!” Said Tenny as if she didn’t have a face full of dirt and black blood on her blouse and sleeves like just played with oil. Y’know, like a moron.

“You want the belt?” Her Mother asked, wanting to make it clear she wasn’t going to deal with her behavior right now.

Tenny knew this and averted her eyes. “...No… I’ll take the bath without a fuss.” She said with obedience.

“AND?”

“...And clean my clothes.” Added the small teenager, something she was hoping to avoid. Cleaning clothes took took long.

“Good. Get to it!”

The trio of girls marched heir way into the house, Alabama clinging to Georgia.

“And get dinner started, honey! We got a celebration to hold!” Dixon added, causing Georgia to slow down to give a mild sigh. She was planning on doing that anyways, but being told to do it made her want to do it less, even if she loved cooking for her family. But boy, did Georgia ever wanted to backtalk to her Father right then. But she didn’t, because her Mother was there and Georgia liked being alive more than being angry, so instead of risking a boot to the head, she let it go and went inside, thinking about slaughtering a few naughty chickens to work out her inner rage. Maybe she could rope Tenny in to feather and gut them later, she’d like that.

“Sounds like they’re gonna need help.” Commented Missouri aloud.

“Yes, it does! Lets go aid our dear cousin in her tasks, those two are going to be a handful!~” Added Kentucky, the two then began to make their way into the house trying to follow their family inside.

“You think you two are slick?” Said Jeb in a raised voice, irritation peppering his words like well seasoned chicken. “Get your tails to the wagons and start workin ya lazy bums!”

The pair didn’t say anything other than giving a huff at their ruse being found out immeadetly. They did indeed intend to do the easier work of cooking instead of moving enormous amounts of goods. Physical labor wasn’t their forte, but they knew the price of disobeying at this point and marched back to their wagons to start unloading.

“Now, for the fence line!” Began Dixon. “Virginia! Take your sisters Bonnie n Phoebe along with Jimmok and check the wards! Reinforce em!”

“But we checked em this mornin Daddy!” Phoebe protested.

Dixon wanted to scold his daughter at her negligence, but that might upset her to the point of being resentful, so he tried something else. “Go. Now. If find any Goblins out there, you can roast em all you want! Heck, you can burn all these carcasses once they’re all piled up! Now how does that sound?”

Phoebe was tired and wanted to rest, but liked the idea of using her fire magic as much as she wanted to, so instead of pressing the matter out of being tired, she relented. “I’ll help check the wards, Daddy.” She sighed.

“Good, now go!” Dixon commanded, Ogre following the girls in tow with Virginia in the lead. Bonnie wasted no time berating her Twin for refusing the duty of checking the wards.

“See ya later, buddy!” Said Jimmok to Jebidiah.

“Now, for the rest of y’all, start unpackin the wagons! I’ll be out to help in a minute” Said the Patriarch as he helped his wife down from the Wagon, both being careful as to not slip, or else risk the precious life growing within her. “Get to it Jebby! Charlotte!”

The spotted Orc woman obeyed with a snort and went to the rear of the wagon train, curious to see what Jebidiah had been up to, but also to make sure the Korwin Kousins weren’t slacking off like she suspected.

Jeb heeded his younger brothers wordsm and turned to the girls as their parents made their way into the house. He then heard his brother say under his breathe ‘Stop it! Not right now, save it for later!’ causing Jeb to turn his head back to the couple to see Monique grabbing her Husbands rear only to have Josie to slap it away.

Jeb gave a smile, his little brother was a lucky Dog, but also unlucky in some ways. Too much of a good in this case, Monique sure ran him ragged in the bedroom. He was happy she was bought for their family, even if she was meant for Jeremiah instead Josiah, she blessed the family with many new members.

If only one had been the son his brother craved. Jeb shook his head of his thoughts and turned back to his nieces.

They were a bit tired from the day, but were already dutifully making their way over to their family wagon to unload it, keen on finishing the task. Though he could sense the girls were expecting a bit more out of the Goblin attack, things must be a bit tedious here. A Goblin raid might be a highlight for them, even if it would be a glorified turkey shoot.

Were they Orcs or Savages, things might be different. Still, their Uncle did spend time in Mitharia collecting contracts.

Jeb clapped his hands together to attract the attention of the gaggle. “Okie Dokie, who wants to find out what Uncle brought from Mitharia!”

Just as the girls were about to begin unloading the wagon, the gaggles heads spun around and after a brief moment to soak in what their uncle just said, they realized what he meant; Presents.

And with various cheerfully excited shouts, the gaggle then began making their way towards their Uncle who was eager to show off what he had gotten them, as if he were Saint Klaus himself.

Dixie and Arkansas were both halted however, as their shawls were yanked back before they could bolt, choking the both of them briefly.

“HOLE UP YOU TWO!” Yelled the voice of their sister Missi. “You ain’t runnin off! Daddy told us to unload!”

“Oh c’mon, Missi, not like its gonna hurt nothin!” Dixie protested.

“Oh yes it will! Daddy told us to work, so we’re gonna work! Uncle wants to play with Louis, Texas, Florida and our cousins, he can!”

“Well, I wanna relax for a bi-” Began Arkansas before she was choked by her shawl as Missi yanked hard on it.

“You wanna upset Daddy, be my guest, but I ain’t lettin you drag me down with you!”

Arkansas simply yanked her shawl back and turned to give her elder a mean look. “Who said you’re the boss of me?!”

“My age.” Said Missi coldly. But she regretted this, as although it was true, she was the elder, she knew it was the sort of inconvenient truth tha would upset people and was not good enough. She then tried what her Father had done with Pheobe. “And I need your help anyhow. Can’t exactly reach the reins for the wagon and control the animals, given how small I am.”

“You mean… I can drive the wagon?” Asked Arkansas, fidgeting her fingers.

“Yes, to the barn! Gotta get this salted lard into the larder.” Answered Missi, adjusting her specatcles. “Afterwords you can drive it back to the house so we can unload whats left. Then you can goof off and play til dinner. Does that sound good to you?”

Arkansas looked pleased, even if she tried to hide it in an attempt to play hard to get. She did like to drive the wagons, but Daddy was worried she might cause it to tip over at times, so he often denied her. “Mmmm okay!!” She said as she bolted to the front of the wagon and climbed her way into the seat.

Dixie looked over the many metal containers of lard in the back before making her own way to the front with Missi. Arkansas then cracked the reins to get the animals to start moving. Thankfully Arkansas was a bit tired and so was much more patient with them, so they moved at a slower pace than Missi expected. Which was fine by her, the Barn wasn’t far from the house to begin with.

“Hey Missi.” Began Dixie. “Why Mama buy so much lard?”

“Yeah I was wonderin that too!” Added Arkansas. “I thought we sold Lard with all these pigs we got to rend it from!”

“Oh, that? Daddy wanted it.” Answered Missi. “I believe it’s for the factory, Daddy is going to sell it or give to them so that it can be used for canning pork and beef. The salted lard should add flavor and keep the canned food for longer.”

“Wait, so we’re not gonna use it?” Asked Arkansas, confused as to what her sister means. “Why buy all of that then?”

“We ARE going to use it! It’s an investment! To make certain the factory can actually operate and we have money for the future. The kind that can’t inflate, or so Mr. Holk says. Should get us over the hump for the first few years when we go home and won’t have to dip into the old treasure Troves.”

“Uh...okay? What’s en-flayed mean? We skinnin the money?” Asked Arkansas.

“Wha-...no!!! They’re making a currency backed by food instead of gold!” Answered Missi.

“Wait, so food is gonna be the money?! I thought money was money!?”

“No! It’s not! Wait, no! I MEAN YES! I-” Missi became flabbergasted and scatterbrained getting worked up over the confusion, threatening to throw a temper tantrum. She let out an exhalation to deal with her stress. “Look, just drive the wagon! It’s nothing but the pure sweet fat of the hog back there for all you care!”

Dixie giggled at her sisters frustrated fluster, she might have been her elder, but Mississippi was still cute when she was angry. Bit like a small animal that was full of itself and trying to be sassy.

Arkansas was still confused, but didn’t let the question linger and shrugged, she was enjoying her time to drive the wagon, even though they were almost there.

It only took another minute in fact, Arkansas having enough foresight to turn the wagon in a way that it brought its rear closer to the barn, reducing the time it would take the lard to the barns larder, which was a good place for larder, because a larder was where lard was meant to be larded. It would be silly to put it anywhere else except maybe for the pantry, which is where at least some of it would go.

Arkansas and Dixie hopped off the wagon, with Arkansas grabbing her older sister as if she were a mere child, because physichally was, to help her down. Missi then noticed the door of the barn was slightly ajar already. She remembered that she had closed it before leaving it this morning and guessed Jimmok or Charlotte had been inside and forgot to close it all the way.

Regardless, she opened the door and a breeze could be felt coming out. Suddenly the wagons Oxen were mooing, but the girls ignored them. Missi went inside and went straight to the steps that lead down to the Barns larder and marched down to unlock it, popping a loose brick, pulling out a key and using it to pop the lock with a smooth ‘snack’ and pushing the door open. She could smell the salted pork fat inside on the cold wind coming out.

Missi then replaced the key and brick back in their places and marched up the stairs, going passed her sisters who were already bringing in the Lard. Dixie stopped as she heard the sound of creaking of the boards from above and assumed it was the wind pushing the barn around.

She then went back to work and brought the lard down the steps and into the larder, where she placed the contents that is nothing but the pure sweet fat of the hog onto a shelf that was furthest away from the door and using her farm girls strength, pushed the older containers along, sliding them down so they would be used first when they were needed.

Arkansas did the same on her side. It was heavy, but years of farm work and the smoothness of the shelves made it possible to do. Still, it was a lot of effort and it made them both wish they could knock a red boy over so easily.

“Hey, if we’re s’pposed to give this to the new factory place thingy, why we puttin it here?” Arkansas asked. “Seems like a waste o’effort if we’re just gonna pull it back out ‘gain.”

“Guess there ain’t a place to put it really.” Offered Dixie, trying to reason out her sisters question, scratching her head. “Think Daddy might just sell it with the farm or something.”

“To who? The factory?” Arkansas asked for clarity.

“I don’t flippin know! Ask Daddy if you care ‘bout all that stuff.” Answered Dixie in a fit of frustration, sick of being pegged for answers she did not have by her slightly taller twin.

“Don’t have ta be a stick in the mud.” Replied Arkansas as she made her way back up the steps.

Dixie followed her, reaching the top and back out the barn to get another load of lard, walking passed Missi, who struggled a bit with the container. For Dixie or Arkansas, the containers were big, but manageable. For Missi, it seemed it was far larger, but not so much the elder sisters tiny body could not handle it.

Dixie saw the back of the wagon and it was full of lard in addition to other things, like sugar and spices and such, it would take a while to put all of this way, even without the lard. Either way, it meant the younger twins would be handling lions share of the work, both of them were hoping they would get to relax after all this.

Arkansas and Dixie took a load of lard, Dixie taking the lead with Arkansas following her. When they were inside the barn, both of them heard scratching from above and the two stopped where they stood to listen, Dixie at the top of the stairs and Arkansas behind her.

It wasn’t the boards settling in the wind.

“You hear that?” Dixie asked while looking up and around to see what it was, hoping she wasn’t just being paranoid.

“Yeah! I did!” Arkansas then felt and heard something behind her, she spun around to see the barn doors were closed. Her eyes bolted around to see what had shut them, but saw nothing

With instinct, she stepped forward, wanting to open the doors again. Maybe it was the wind that had shut them? She felt a sense of fear, a distinction that they were not alone here.

She was about to kick the door open while still holding the lard, but stopped as she was jolted by the sound of her sister shrieking.

“AAAAA!” Screamed Dixie, dropping her lard as something fell upon her from above.

Arkansas spun and saw something small, bigger than Missi but smaller than Dixie, upon her sibling, its lanky legs firmly planted upon her shoulders as it pulled on her hair like somekind of foul jocky.

A Black Goblin was assailing her and snarling and screeching as it did so in some sort of pitched tongue, occasionally kicking her until she fell on her knees.

“AA-AAAA!” Dixie screeched in a panic, trying to pull her hair back as the creature tried to drag her.

Arkansas lifted the lard over her head and threw it as hard as she could at the monster, thrashing the thing into letting go of her, knocking it over, only for it to get back up almost immediately and looking like it was about to charge as it crouched, sneering at the girls with a cruel demonic grimace on its face.

The monster had a mouth full of pointed sharp teeth behind it’s thin lips, if it had any, with a pointed chin, its eyes were cat-like yellow eyes, short pointed ears, a mat of stringy black hair with a tuft held up by some sort of cord adorned with trinkets of skulls of small animals and glittery metals that might have been coins. Its complexion was on the darker side of gray, a lanky form it was, with rags of animal hides, leathers and stolen cloths covering it. Its hands were claws and its feet seemed springy and more lizard than mammal.

Despite the size difference, it was clearly the more dangerous creature in the barn and it made that fact clear as it stepped towards the girls, towards its prey.

Dixie shuffled back on her arms, trying to get away from the thing, bumping into her sister, whom she turned her head to ensure it was her.

“YOU OKAY?!” Arkansas asked frantically as she helped her sister up, trying to keep her eye on the Goblin.

“I-I-think so!” Dixie stuttered in fear as she stood. She only felt a mild pain on the back of her neck, but felt nothing bloody leaking out. She then focused on the creature in front of her and felt her panic simmer into fear, her body on full alert and wanting to run like Hell.

Dixie motioned towards the doors of the barn and the Goblin snarled and dashed towards it with a frightening speed by hopping, almost like some sort of demonic Frog, cutting them off. There was no way they were going outrun this thing.

The thing encroached on the girls slowly, who gave brief shrieks, unsure of what to do other than stay close and away from it. Arkansas looked around frantically, looking for something. She thought of picking up the lard cans to throw at the thing, but was too fearful of it pouncing on her. She then saw a rack of tools, including a sickle and a pitchfork, but she was also scarred to go for it.

The Goblin crept forward, trying to get into striking range. If it got one of them, the other would be easy to gut. He knew there was a third smaller one down the steps and knew the tiny child would be too fearful to come up the stairs and could deal with her when he wanted to.

“What are y’all screamin-” Began Missi as she stepped up the steps, until she spotted the commotion and realized what it was. “HOLY HELL!!”

The Goblin looked at the girl with equal confusion. Manlet sprogs were supposed to be fearful and not seek out screams and it left the Goblin stunned for a moment, uncertain of what to do at the unforeseen event. He could strike at her, easily killing her, but he did not want to risk the other fleeing and bringing the Ogre, or worse, the Orc. The Ogre he could easily outrun, the Orc he could not, he saw how easily she ripped through his Band, their hit and run attacks backfiring on them.

The Arkansas saw the Goblin being distracted and took her chance to get the pitchfork. The Goblin then took notice of Arkansas fleeing, assuming she was making a break for it just to get away from the Goblin despite nowhere obvious to go while leaving her sister and lunged at Dixie.

Dixie simply stepped back and screamed until she hit the wooden wall of the barn as the creature charged her. It might have been a bit smaller than her, but it might as well have been a small Jaguar or Cougar to her. Dixie lifted her leg up instinctively, trying to kick the creature away. The Goblin grabbed Dixie by the boot and yanked back hard, easily bringing the girl down with its strength.

Then, with its free hand, tried to reach for her face, attempting to grab her throat to slit her neck with its claws, something it had done many time before. But it only felt a sudden sting in its side and shrieked.

Arkansas had plunged her pitchfork into the monsters side, forcing it off of her sister. She put all of her weight into forcing the prongs in deeper, trying to wound the thing.

“MOVE!” Shouted Arkansas at her sister, which Dixie did, rolling away as fast as she could, fear gripping her a she crawled, standing up. “GET THE SICKLE!!” She yelled at her sister again.

“W-W-W-WHAT!?” Yelled Dixie, unsure of what her sister said, the fear making it hard for her to think.

Missi stepped forward in order to try and help, thinking she could use her own weight to push in the pitchfork further. But she stopped in her tracks as the Goblin rolled over, forcing the prongs out of itself and into the barn wall.

Arkansas pulled back, but was stopped as the Goblin grabbed onto the fork, yanking it back and not letting go. The creature had the strength Arkansas did not have and despite her effort to hold on tight, it away. It had the Goblin had the pitchfork now and it was all too eager to skewer the girl that had made it bleed.

Arkansas had stepped back as the monster had sprung up and got ready to attack again, looking around to find her sisters were also stepping back. Then she noticed Dixie still had not gotten the tool.

“DIXIE! THE SICKLE! GET THE SICKLE!!” Yelled Arkansas. She would have gotten the tool herself, but she was closest to the Goblin and knew it would go after her first.

“Uh...uh…” Dixie murmured as she looked for what she meant and saw it and went to get it, barely holding back her panic.

“GET BACK!!!” Yelled Missi as she yanked as hard as she could on her sibling, the Goblin seeing the girl as distracted and lunged at her with the pitch fork, aiming at her upper chest, but hit her shoulder instead, sinking the prongs deep, far further than Arkansas did with him.

Arkansas felt a stinging pain and yelped as she fell backwards onto her elder sister, pinging her to the ground. Instinctively she tried to kick the creature away, but it grabbed her then kicked her in the gut with its sharp clawed foot.

A belch came forth and a new stinging pain, it had wounded her as blood flowed out from both her gut and her shoulder. The Goblin kicked her again with more force, hitting her in the front of her upper thigh, making her scream again. Then it twisted fork with as much might as it could muster, causing greater pain, please the creatures sadism.

The sense of power over a Manling was sweeter than a Goblette as is gave a giggle. It was about to reach down and snuff the life from both of the girls with its claws, intending to pull out their throats after an incision.

Then it’s ears twitched as it heard movement to its side. The other Manling girl was about to attack with a sickle and the Goblin reacted masterfully, he let go of the girls leg and used his free hand to grab onto the others girls wrist as its weapon came down, stopping her dead.

She was terrified, Dixie was certain she was going to kill or at least gravely hurt the monster attacking her sisters, but instead it had her and she uncertain of what to do. She dropped the sickle and tried to pull back, but only felt the force of the Goblin keeping her there. It then pulled her towards it and hit her with a mighty punch with all of its strength, right to her cheek, knocking the girl down.

She had never been hit so hard in her life. She wasn’t seeing stars, but didn’t feel much of anything at first, then the pain hit her, tears were welling up in her eyes. She wanted to run away and now. She looked up and saw the ladder up to Missi’s workshop on the second floor. Without thinking she crawled towards them in a frantic panic.

Arkansas had tears beginning to roll down her own eyes from the pain, but saw the Goblin was distracted again and took her chance to kick it in the back of the legs, hoping to topple it.

She kicked with all her might, hitting it in the back of the knee with her own, tangling it up as it fell down. She then rolled off of her sister as best as she could, who began to stand up. Arkansas then felt scream leave her lungs again as the Monster bit down on her leg as deep as it could, casuing a delicious crimson liquid to leak forth, which the creature sucked up like some sort of Trashyard Vampire.

The Goblin then crawled away, wanting the sickle to kill the Man Sprogs once and for all, but it had the weapon it then felt the sting of the fork again, as it was jabbed in the back of its head.

The midget sprog at stabbed him this time and the other was trying to stand up, that it would not let happen. The Goblin sprang up and drop kicked the child into its sister sending them tumbling down into the lower level.

The girls were still alive, they were moving, but immobile. If the Goblin wanted them all dead, now was the opportunity and it had to start with the struggling up the ladder. He grabbed the sickle and raced towards the ladder.

Dixie was barely up on the 2nd level, looking where the windows were to leap out of it, or least climb down from there to run for help. She barely noticed the windows were shut to prevent anyone from entering when she heard some skittering on the wood from below and saw the Goblin climbing up, sending the girl back into a panic as she screamed again.

The creature had made it all the way up at an incredible speed, even Tenny would not be able to match, as the girl stumbled back, falling onto her rear as she shuffled away from the thing.

It was creeping towards the girl at first, pausing briefly as she shit the stool behind her, wondering what she would do as she kept her gaze upon him, the panic deepening in her. The Goblin then ran at Dixie with a lunge, bringing the sickle down on her, making her shriek as he struck her.

She held her arms up as the beast hacked away at her, but was doing minimal damage. The Goblin wondered why it wasn’t cutting her and examined the blade. He realized he was holding it backwards. The Man filth was stupid at times and spun the blade around to get in a blow only to feel the blow of the stool against the creature as it fell to the ground.

This enraged the Goblin and Dixie scuttled as fast as she could under Missi’s workbench. She was breathing heavily, tears rolling down her eyes. She did not want to die and wanted a wall between her and the monster. She pulled as hard as she could on the workbench, it was heavy but she was strong enough to make it tip.

The Goblin lunged at her as the bench came crashing down on it’s back, pinning its lower body down. The beast shrieked once more, partially out of pain, but mostly out of anger. It wanted to kill this dark skinned rat and take its bushy scalp as a trophy for the Goblin Women. It would have its right to mate and it would make the process of taking that scalp slow and painful now.

It lashed at Dixie with the sickle, hitting her in the legs. Her skirt catching the blade, preventing any real injury, but the point was enough to stab the girl in the side of her knee, thigh, hip, shoulder even face. It was enough to drive the girl into a frenzy terror as she kicked the creature in the face, hoping to kill it, but only made it angry as it summoned its strength again to lift the workbench off of itself.

This was enough to make Dixie run away, wanting to jump down off the 2nd floor. But the Goblin tripped her up with the sickle, doing no damage, but making her tumble. This was all it took for it to grab onto her boot and it held on, refusing to let go.

Dixie screamed and kicked its face frantically, but it did little other than to anger it. It fought through the pain and tried to drag her closer while wiggling out from under the bench. Dixie kicked it aiming for its eye with her heel, making it scream and let go to grab its source of agony.

Dixie wasted no time trying to get away, to the light of the outside from this dark world through the open barn doors. She wanted to run as fast as she could, away from this monster. She crawled, ready to fall to the ground, not caring if he would break any bones. She just wanted her Father, her Mother. She wanted to be away from this thing, for God to save her from this Demon.

The Goblin however, was fighting through the pain and managed to wriggle its way out from under the workbench in no time and saw the girl with its good eye. It had enough it would kill her then and there. It let out a cry of hate and with sickle in hand, lunged at the crawling bitch planting its body on top of her.

Dixie let out another scream straight from Hell as it pulled her by the hair to expose her neck. Dixie locked eyes with the monster and she knew she was caught. She tried to pull her hair away from it, like a frantic animal in a trap, but the Goblin was too strong. The Goblin saw her terror and it was thoroughly pleased, it wanted her to be gripped by fear as she died, if only he could make her own clan see her like this. Seeing the neck, the Goblin it lift the sickle up to end filth's life and swung down to slash at the girls throat to drain the life from her.

But it did not do this.

It could not do this.

The Goblin could not move it’s hand, or it’s arm, something with a vice like grip was holding it and it was crushing it’s hand.

“AAA-AA!” It yelped. It looked at its limb and something was holding it firmly and crushing it.

It was a hand, dark skinned, the Goblin looked behind itself and saw the yellow eyes of a predator staring down at it, into its soul, if it had one. A cold terror had gripped the Goblins heart and paralyzed it in fear and the Goblin started to breathe heavily and its low jaw started to quiver. It was not certain what it was looking at other than perhaps death itself.

Dixon subconsciously gave the vermin a look of deathly hate. Not only had it attacked his family, his farm, his livelihood, his land, it had attacked three of his children and was about to kill one. This was not something Dixon would let go unanswered and because it was not a creature like Redfist, who had friends and was in fact, a Goblin, Dixon could do as he pleased with itwhen it attacked his children.

He looked into its eyes that were filled with fear for its life with pure hatred and he brought down his boot onto its ankle, causing a loud CRACK to ring through the barn making the pest scream bloody murder and recoil. It made an attempt to bite him out of instinct, but Dixon lifted the creature with not effort and kicked it in the back of the head. The creature fell over the edge of the floor and fell down to the ground where it laid in pain.

Dixon then turned his attention to his daughter, who was in tears.

“D-da-a-a-ddy!” She stuttered, reaching towards him with both of her arms, hands open, like a baby begging for comfort.

Dixon gave it without thinking, embracing his daughter, gentle as a lamb as she sobbed into his vest.

“I-I-thou-ought-” she began before Dixon interjected.

“Ssssshhhhh-sh-sh-sssshhhhh…. S’all right now. Daddy’s here darlin.” He cooed to his child, rubbing her back, holding her close in a hug, rocking back and forth as she cried.

“I was… I was-so sca-...sc-…” Dixie sobbed, she could not speak properly as the thought of dying overwhelmed her.

Dixion pulled her away and held her head. “Look at me, look at mah eyes! Don’t look ‘way Dixie, this ain’ the song, y’hear?” He asked, bit of trying to be humours and invoke his daughters favorite song, but also trying to keep her focused. “Okay?”

“O-o-k-k-ay…” She agreed.

“Take a deep breathe then.”

She obeyed, taking in a fast deep breathe and exhaling.

“Slower.”

She obeyed again.

“You hurt?” He asked.

“Uh…” She paused trying to figure out his question.

“Are. You. Hurt?” He enunciated. “Did that freak hurt you? Cut you?”

“He-…” She felt herself, remembering the pain. “The thing stabbed me!”

“With what?” He asked calmly with a mild smile, trying to seem like a lighthouse in a storm for his child while wanting to hear exactly what she had to say.

“Wi-...with sick-sickle!”

His gaze darted around for a moment, then he saw the sickle the Goblin was holding and picked it up. He examined it and saw a bit of blood on it, mostly on the tip. It caused a chill to run through his body.

“Where? Where it stab you?” He asked, barely keeping his fear in check.

Dixie took a moment to consider where it hit her. “A-arm, s-shoulder… hip…”

He looked at her bodyparts, and while it did seem like she was hit he didn’t see much blood on her. Must have only just grazed her with scratches. Her cheek however was a bit more bruised and fat now.

“Can you stand? Move?” He asked. “I won’t letchya go or nothin, just need to know how bad it all is.”

“Y-yes! I-I can!” She said as she tried to stand up.

Dixon picked up his daughter, holding onto her tight like the fragile treasure she was. “Hold on to me honey.”

Dixie obeyed, gripping her Father tightly, feeling a sense of safety. Dixon walked over to the edge of the floor, spotting the Goblin, it was still alive, the light of the coming Dusk bathing the oversized rat in an yellow glow.

He stepped over the edge, aiming for the Goblins bad leg, the one whose ankle he broke, and made it worse. His weight snapped the creatures limb in another place and is shrieked in agony. Breaking its leg broke his fall. Still hurt him a bit, thankfully nothing of value was lost on the way down.

He wasn’t thinking entirely clearly in that moment, bit of a dumb idea to do, especially with a precious treasure in hand like his Daughter, but he was full of love for her and hate for that thing that dared to harm her.

He then looked up to see Bonnie and Phoebe carrying up Missi and Arkansas who were both crying, especially Arkansas. He saw crimson running down Bonnie’s dress as she held Arkansas.

“How are they?” He asked as Dixie clung to him for dear life.

“Not sure if anythings broken, but shes got a stabbin and a bit wound that looks worse than it is. Nothin a cleanin and some bandages won’t heal.” Said Bonnie with a smile.

Dixon knew his daughter Bonnie well enough to know that when she smiles, its good compared to what might have been. He felt a sense of relief, though he tempered it with a tinge of reality, they might still have a broken bone or an infection.

“Hmm, so one hid huh?” Asked Charlotte as she stood there with her hands on her hips, glaring at the Goblin who was trying to crawl away as it winced in torment of several broken bones. “Must ‘ave ‘ad somethin to prove.”

“Here.” Said Dixon as he gave the sickle to the Orc. “Have fun with him.”

Charlotte looked at Dixon with a bit of shock, she took the sickle in hand and asked. “Y-y’mean… I can…”

Dixon gave subtle nod of approval to the Orc and saw her face light up with a tinge of excitement that was barely contained.

“And here I thought you’d be angry!” She said.

“I’m not angry, I’m vengeful.” He answered coldly. “And I want that Trash over there to know that.” He stared at the Orc, he felt a sense of anger towards her for her failure to secure the Farm fully, but he knew she would not let something like this happen if she could help it. Besides, this lot chose to take the wagon to the barn, not like she had any control over that. Charlotte felt he was a bit mad at her, but not enough to reprimand her, at least in front of the girls, she knew he was happy the children were relatively fine and more importantly, wanted some payback against the creature that caused him and his wife such terror. She was actually a bit worried Monique might give birth out of stress.

“Anyways, go have your fun, take your time, make sure it lives until it wants to die, y’hear?” He asked, but it felt more like a command.

He wanted that thing to suffer for as long as possible. “Oh… I hear.” Chalotte acknowledge with a grin most Devlish. She was going to have a lot of fun with this.

“Good, see you in the morning!” Dixon said with a smile as he walked back the Orc, giving her a firm slap to the rump of the old Nan, making her grab it out of pain.

Bonnie, Phoebe and Virginia walked passed her with their sibling in hand.

Jimmok the Ogre was running as fast as he could, slowing down and collapsing to the ground, making the ground shake the entire time, fully out of breathe.

“I...I...IIIIIII-” He gasped for air, trying to find enough to say what he wanted to say. “I’m-….HERE!” Ogre were not made for running, especially from the otherside of the farm.

“Thank you Jimmok, take a break.” Said Dixon, understanding the Ogres issues as he walked passed. “They’re fine by the by.”

“Go-….-oood!”

“Just breathe you ol’ fool! Gonna throw up a lung!” Chided Phoebe.

Charlotte walked into the barn and drew the doors closed. She looked over her shoulder and saw her subject was awake and trying to lift itself up in spite of its pain. When it noticed her finally, it felt ice enter its veins as it locked eyes with her green orbs and saw something it did not want to see.

“He must REALLY hate you…” She said with a grin most wicked. “to give you to me~”

The Goblin’s instincts, its will to live, took over and took to flight and began crawling away as fast as it could.

“Oh… you still want to live… good.” She said as she followed the creature, ready unleash the full swath that was her inner Fantasia cruelty upon the creature. “We’ll stomp lil fire for life that you still got out cold, don’t you worry!~”

Finally, at last, its been years since she could have fun. Real. Fun. The kind she was forbidden to have, the kind her Blood demanded. The fact she was about to be having fun for the sake of the girls was a nice bonus to her.

She grabbed the Goblin by the ankle, it turned to look at her and saw an inhuman creature, a daughter of Likoth, staring back at him with a Demonic glee most wicked.

“COME TO CHARLOTTE!”

Dixie Lee Corwin & The Farm of Hobbesville - Chapter 1 - Zalloj - Dixie Lee Corwin [Archive of Our Own]

[asimpforthe80s]

This was the death of Eddie Munson

Warning: not Canon. Heavy angst. Character dying. Male kissing at the end. Crying- a lot of crying.

A/N: God, I cried even writing this!

Steve had been asleep when he heard a knock at the window beside his bed. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and looked to see who it was-

*Eddie Munson*.

He felt the sleepiness snap away and he jolted up. How is this possible- Eddie had *died*.

Steve opened the window hurriedly, “Munson, what-?”

…somethings.. different. "S.. steve.. that's.. you, right?" He opened his mouth to respond, then stopped. There was something odd about the way Eddie was.. speaking.

His voice? More melodic. But-

He shook those thoughts from his head. He focused on the fact that Eddie was back.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s me. How..how are..?”

"Steve.. I just.. ugh.." You were holding your lover stomach with your left arm. You seemed.. in pain. His eyes scanned Eddie’s stomach, the hand. He felt his heart break when it hit him- Eddie was-

He cut his thoughts short.

He felt an itch, deep down, that he knew what this really was. He swallowed hard, “Yeah, you don’t look very good.. maybe.. maybe you should sit down.”

"N-no, that makes it worse-" His eyes snapped up to Eddie. He felt a spike of panic run through every cell of his body, but he managed to mask it with his tone of voice, “Right. What makes you feel better? The couch?”

It was a couch Steve wasn’t using- and Eddie was looking more and more in pain as every second passed. "Standing up?"

“Okay. Sure.”

He offered a hand to Eddie. After a second, Eddie took it and Steve helped him stand. As if his legs weren’t steady enough on their own.

He felt his heart beating out of his chest.

Suddenly, he thought of that *itch*. "You got any medical boxes, Harrington?"

“Yeah! Um, downstairs, follow me!”

He rushed down the stairs, and practically forced Eddie over to the cabinet beneath the sink. It usually had extra detergent, bleach, and cleaning supplies, and… first aid?

That was the itch.

He grabbed the first aid kit and practically threw it at Eddie. "God.. thanks, I might be dyin'.." you said casually as you went through the box, trying to find rubbing alcohol and bandages. The way Eddie said that sent a chill through Steve.

He felt a bead of fear roll down his spine- and he had to know.

He blurted out, “Did… did you come back for me?”

God, he could sound like a fool sometimes. But he needed to know. "Why wouldn't I?" That made his heartbeat a little faster. “I just- you went through so much.. “

He felt his mouth go dry. “Why *did* you come back?”

He wanted to know. "I don't wanna die!" The answer was not what he was expecting- it also didn’t answer his question, which was now a nagging *itch* in his head.

“I mean, yes. Of course, I don’t want you to die!! But like… is there a special reason-“

"Steve.. not now, I'm kinda dying." You grabbed a bottle of rubbing alcohol and a roll of bandages and went into his bathroom.“Oh, of course, sorry!” He felt sheepish suddenly. Eddie *did* just die- and he was being a little insensitive.

His brain was screaming at him to go ask again- but he could hear the pain and desperation in Eddie’s voice.

He backed off.

“Are you okay in there?” He called out. "Yeah, yeah, yeah- ah, fuck!.. jus.. just fine.." He heard the rustle of cloth- and then a loud *thud* a moment later. His heart stopped.

“Eddie? Eddie, you okay?”

"Huh?.. y-yep.. I'm fine.. uh.. are you okay with blood..? Quite a lot of it..?" His eyes widened and he felt himself shake his head in response at the question, “That depends- *a lot* of blood? I’m fine with blood- but, uh- “

He trailed off, not knowing how to finish. The idea of Eddie.. bleeding out in his bathroom was something he didn’t want to think about- "Like.. a third of the blood in my body?" Steve was speechless.

He felt his world spin suddenly.

The only response he could muster was this;

“Are you…?”

"Hm?" *Oh no..*

“You’re-“

He trailed off. He needed to say the words though, he had to get it out.

“You’re pregnant, aren’t you”

"WHAT?! Steve I'm a guy!" Steve stopped moving for a moment. He felt his heart beat faster and faster as it hit him.

He was an idiot- Eddie was a fellow guy, after all. But then- why was he saying he had so much blood?

“Ah-“

He felt stupid. But then his heart sank as the realization hit him.

“You have a… a stab wound, then?”

"Multiple!" Steve felt the blood drain from his face, “W-w-what?!”

He felt his heart pounding in his ears suddenly, “Do you- we need to get you to a hospital!”

"Hospitals costs too much for me and Wayne.. I'm fixing myself up, Harrington"

“God, do you have any experience fixing yourself up?!” He snapped suddenly. He felt terrified as he thought of the multiple stab wounds Eddie had mentioned- and what they might’ve *hit*.

He didn’t trust his ability to do more than apply a band-aid, never mind anything more serious. "Of fucking course I do! I wouldn't try fixing myself up if I didn't know how to do it... I've got years of experience.."

“Well, that’s reassuring.” He said, not able to keep his worry out of his tone.

“How bad are they-“ he trailed off suddenly. It sounded bad, but he was curious- and his curiosity was getting the best of him. "Uh, the 'fuck, I'm dying' kind if stab wounds?"

“That’s- not good.”

He heard Eddie open the door, and Steve’s jaw dropped. Eddie had bandages all over his body- all of his limbs.

He had a large bandage wrapped around his stomach, and he was leaning against the wall- looking drained.

“Jesus-“

"Yeah.. sorry, I kinda.. got some blood like.. all over?"

“I… yeah,” Steve said with a grimace, “I noticed.”

He looked at Eddie’s stomach, the bandages. He couldn’t hide it any longer- the answer was on the tip of his tongue, and he knew he had to ask.

He gulped in air, and asked, in as gentle a tone as he could muster, “Eddie, why- did they stab your stomach specifically?”

"The demobats just tried to eat me alive, it's nothing special.."

“Nothing special?..”

He paused.

“Eddie, uh, I-“

He felt like an idiot. “Are you- uh, are- are you-“ he trailed off again. His words stuck in his throat, as if he was afraid of *knowing*. "Huh?" His heart was pounding, and he felt like the world was ending.

He blurted out, “Are you pregnant???”

"Steve.. ARE YOU FUCKING STUPID?!" Steve flinched, and his brain short- Circuited as it processed Eddie’s sudden yelling.

His jaw slowly dropped, and he went silent. His face was a mixture of shock and embarrassment now.

After a long moment of awkward silence, he finally said in a quiet voice, “Yes. Yes, I am.”

"Obviously! We're both guys.. do I have to spell it out to you? I' m a l e!" Steve felt his face go hot with embarrassment and shame. He looked down at his own legs, not making eye contact with Eddie.

“I- yeah, okay, I get it. I know. I’m a dumbass,” he said after a tense moment of silence. “I don’t know what I was thinking, I know damn well that guys can’t get pregnant, so I’m just. Sorry.”

"Exactly.. now you get it.." It was hard for Steve to admit it, but Eddie was right- he had been an idiot, plain and simple. He knew guys couldn’t get pregnant- yet he’d asked anyway.

No shame in asking, but he felt a bit stupid now- as he usually did when he got something wrong.

He cleared his throat, “Okay, uh, next question- what are those bandages on your stomach for?”

"Uh.. you're stupid as fuck.. is this because it's like.. 3 am?" It was close to that time in the early, early morning. He was running on less than two hours of sleep- and Eddie was back. He felt his heart pound in his chest, and he felt tense.

The answer to Eddie’s question was a blunt response- “yes.” But then, he raised an eyebrow- and his words slipped out like water.

“Your stomach, how come it’s-“

"God damnit.. it's because the demobats tried to eat me alive.. Dustin should've said that already.."

“I mean, I *figure* as much- but like, how badly did they-“

He trailed off, he didn’t want to ask again. He felt a pang of guilt in his heart- after all, it wasn’t just Eddie’s wounds that bothered him.

He wanted to know the answer to *his* question- and at this point he was a little too stubborn to let it go. "***LIKE AN ANIMAL EATING ANOTHER ANIMAL ALIVE***" Steve felt his heart skip a beat when the gravity of the question hit him.

The wounds on Eddie’s stomach- had they *shredded* him?

“Oh.”

Was all he managed to get out as his face went white. "I literally said that five minutes ago.. how stupid can you be, Harrington?" He didn’t respond, and Eddie was right- Steve felt stupid.

So stupid in fact, it was all he could do to *not* snap back at Eddie.

But then a new thought hit him- his words tumbled out in a mess, his fear, and excitement, and worry, all tangled up in a knot of emotions that were hard to read.

“Are- are you okay??”

"*no!* That's quite obvious! I've got wounds only dead animals should have, and I was dying ten minutes ago.."

“How did you *not* bleed out?”

He felt fear, and excitement, and a million other emotions as he ran through the questions he wanted to ask- and the realization that Eddie was back.

It took his brain a moment to process it all and figure out what to say.

“Is.. is it okay if I look at the wounds?”

"Go sleep.. 'm takin' the guest room.." Steve felt his heart sink a little as Eddie said that- but he couldn’t blame Eddie. It was late, and if the boy was *bleeding from animal-like wounds* it made sense for them to sleep in separate rooms.

He knew this- but he still felt a pang of hurt in his heart, even as he forced his face to smile.

“Okay, good idea. I-“

A sudden thought hit him.

“Eddie, uh, before you leave. Can I ask you something?”

"Fine, but it better not be stupid" His heart felt like it was going to burst, as if it wanted to fly out of his chest- and it took a ton of courage to even ask.

That question he had wanted to ask all night, it was nagging in his mind- and he needed to ask before he could go to sleep. He needed to know.

“How did you, come back? I… I mean-“ he floundered for a moment, knowing it wasn’t really a good question to ask. “I thought- you were gone. You died.”

"Yeah, uh.. let's take that tomorrow.." Steve’s jaw dropped, and he felt his whole world stopped again.

He knew he was tired, and so was Eddie. And he knew Eddie had already told him he’d answer the question tomorrow.

But..

He felt compelled to ask, his curiosity getting the best of him.

He blurted out, “but, why the hell are you back? Like, you’re- *dead*!! How are-“

"I'm not in my body, okay?! I'm some damn spirit that you can see and hear.. that's what's making your wounds hurt when we talk.." Steve felt a bead of sweat roll down his face, the answer finally sinking in.

He was so sleep deprived that he thought he had imagined Eddie, that the boy was in a bad dream.

Eddie- was dead. A *spirit* now.

A ghost? Steve hadn’t believed in those- not until now.

He felt every fear hit him in an *instant*.

“So… you-“

*Did he have a soul?*

“Are you-“

*Was Eddie here? For real?* "I don't know what happened.. but.. my body.. it's alive.. down in the upside down.." Steve felt himself freeze at that answer. *Alive?*

So Eddie’s *body- the one he’s speaking to right now- the one that’s very much bleeding*- wasn’t *Eddie*.

He felt his brain short circuit as he tried to wrap his head around the idea of… a spirit talking to him.

He felt his stomach drop.

“So, I’m talking to… your *spirit*?”

"I.. don't know.. I'm not dead, but this ain't a physical body" Steve’s jaw went slack.

His eyes went wide, and he felt his heart drop even farther than it had before.

If it wasn’t Eddie- if Eddie was still *alive,* as in *in the upside down- alive- right now..* then who.. *what..*?

His brain raced, and he blurted out, “Are you still Eddie?”

"... how sleep depraved *are* you?" The boy in front of him looked like Eddie, talked like him- but it *wasn’t* Eddie. He had to remind himself of that- he was speaking to Eddie’s spirit.

*Spirit. God, he felt like an idiot now.*

“Pretty damn sleep deprived, but- listen, spirit or not. You sound exactly- exactly like Eddie. I-“

"Yeah, still me, stupid" Steve shook his head.

*If his corpse was still in the upside down… what the hell* was *this?*

But he was too tired now, too sleep deprived to ask further- and it would have to wait until morning.

For now, he had to ask one thing. *One question he *needed* to know the answer to right this very millisecond.*

He paused before saying, “are you- you know, happy to see me?”

"... why you askin'?" Steve felt his heart race, and he tried to steady his voice.

“I was just, uh, wondering if you’re happy to see me. Even though- well, y’know, you’re a spirit, and all…”

He didn’t want to *say it,* he hoped to god that Eddie understood. "Yeah.. 'm happy to see ya.." He couldn’t see Eddie’s face, but he felt his *heart melt*.

He was relieved more than words could describe- even if Eddie was a spirit, Eddie was still very much Eddie.

And- Eddie *was happy to see him*. He couldn’t have asked for more.

He cleared his throat, “God, that’s- that’s a relief to hear, Eddie, I- uh-“

"Now.. go.. to.. sleep.. stupid bitch" Steve couldn’t help but laugh, the comment feeling *like Eddie.*

“Yeah, yeah. I will- Jesus Christ, it’s weird talking to a spirit.”

He paused and frowned, looking serious for a second.

“But uh- yeah. I’ll sleep- and we can talk more about this in the morning, okay Ed?”

"My body ain't dead yet, Harrington!" You said with a laugh as you walked out, giving him a yes to talking tomorrow. He felt relieved as Eddie’s spirit walked out- and then laughed a moment later, trying to let out all the energy that had built up in his limbs.

He felt himself yawn and yawn, the exhaustion finally catching up to him.

“Ah, screw this- I’ll ask in the morning.”

He climbed into Eddie’s bed and crashed, his head almost instantly falling onto the soft pillow. "Mh?.. why you in mah bed?"

“Because it’s almost 5 in the morning, and I can’t be bothered to get up and go to my own bed.”

He paused, his back hit the mattress.

“Besides, it’s comfy- wait, what the hell am I saying?”

"Pft.. okay" Steve closed his eyes, the exhaustion making him feel almost delirious.

He tried to say more- about Eddie’s body, about where Eddie was, about how it had to be some miracle that Eddie wasn’t dead. But the exhaustion was getting to him now, making his head swim.

He closed his eyes and hoped he was making the right call by sleeping on Eddie’s side of the bed.

The exhaustion hit him too fast, however- his eyes closed. Sleep finally claimed him.

Steve’s eyelids fluttered open, and he felt the bed shift under him as he opened his eyes- and immediately remembered where he was.

He felt his heart pounding in his chest- and then it hit him all at once.

He was in Eddie’s bed. Eddie was a ghost. Ed’s body was in the upside down, alive.

Goddamn, this was going to be a strange morning.

He sat up in bed, and stretched as he tried to regain his composure. He looked around and noticed that you weren't there. *Huh?*

Steve looked around, and then he stood- and he felt his heart skip a beat.

He looked toward the door, which was wide open. And- there were still blood stains *everywhere,* even though Eddie’s ghost was gone..

*Was he in the real world now?*

He tried to figure out how all of this made any sort of sense-

But then, something hit him.

Like a train. A car. A plane flying-

*Eddie’s body was still alive.* About an hour later, a cop came to his house and knocked on the door.

"Hawkins Police, open up" Steve went from 0-100 in about half a second. He felt his heart pounding in his chest, as he quickly walked over to the door.

He opened it, and he felt his heart skip a beat.

He wasn’t sure how to act, because *what the hell would he even say?!* “Uh… I…” *Was Eddie alive?* “How can I help you, officer?”

"Do you have any idea who Eddie Munson is?" *Well, damn.*

“Yeah- I- yes, I know Eddie Munson.” He looked shocked, “Why- what happened?”

"He's at the hospital.." Steve felt his heart sink- and then *race.*

“What?! Is he… is he okay? Is he alive-“

"He's alive.." the cop said and mumbled something. “What was that?” Steve leaned in, wanting to hear *everything.*

His entire world had been turned upside down in the last- what, 24 hours?

His brain felt fried. But he had to hear, he had to know what was happening to Eddie. "*for now*" Steve paused, and felt his heart skip a beat. His eyes widened, hearing that word- *for now.*

“*For now*!? What- what do you mean *for now*?”

"He's alive for now.. we don't know if he's gonna survive.. it looked like a damn wolf had tried to eat him alive.." Steve couldn’t help but look worried at that word- *wolf.*

His jaw dropped, and he felt his mind going a million miles a minute.

Eddie had fought a *wolf*? And he was still alive?

He couldn’t believe it for a second.

“Oh Jesus, okay- okay- I- uh… how- is there anything I can do? To help?”

"We can't find anyone willing to be Mr. Munson's guardian at this state, we need you at the hospital if you're willing to come.." Without a second thought, he said, “I’ll meet ya there.”

He shut the door and turned, immediately looking for his shoes- and he put them on.

“What the hell *happened*..?”

"He walked in very hurt.."

“But- but how?”

Even Eddie’s wounds hadn’t been… *that* bad.

Unless Eddie was hiding something. Which was possible, because Eddie was Eddie. He was secretive- he knew things, but he would never say.

And- what was even going on? He would figure that out later, after he got to the hospital.

He picked his keys up off the floor. This was gonna be a long morning. The cop drove away at the same time as him. He quickly got in the car, and he followed the cop. *Jesus*, he thought, *what the hell happened to Eddie?*

As soon as he thought it, another thought crossed his mind. A thought he was afraid to ask- the question burning on his tongue that he wasn’t sure he wanted the answer to.

*Is Eddie going to be okay?*

That simple- that one thought. He didn’t want to ask, to put a jinx on it- not until he saw Eddie with his own two eyes.

*Hospitals and police stations. Two places Steve hated.*

But as they pulled into the hospital parking lot, he suddenly realized- *that wasn’t the worse place for Eddie to be, at this point.*

The car slid into a stop in front of the busy Emergency Room. The cop was the one to get out first, which meant Steve took his time, walking slowly toward the entrance.

He took in his surroundings, trying his best not to look nervous. The nurses came up to him immediately and brought him into one of the rooms. Steve walked in, feeling every heartbeat thudding in his chest. He was still a nervous wreck- but he wanted to see Eddie, he needed to see Eddie.

He could handle seeing Eddie in a bed, hurt- he could handle all of that- as long as he got to *see* him. There was a lot of groaning and crying coming from the room. *it was Eddie* Steve’s eyes widened.

It *was* Eddie. Alive, in pain, but Eddie.

He walked in, and he felt his guts twist as he saw the state Eddie was in. Eddie seemed *broken,* covered in bandages, crying in pain.

He felt tears fill his eyes as his heart went out to Eddie. And- suddenly, a wave of regret filled his soul.

“Eddie… jesus-“

"H-hey, S-steve.. good news.. g-got my b-body back" Steve didn’t know what to say. He felt his throat tighten up, and in the moment, he didn’t want to say the wrong thing.

So, in a rare move- Steve just.. *hugged Eddie.*

“God, I have a million freaking questions, but- I had no idea you- you were alive... where does.. where does it hurt?"

"E-everywhere.." Steve paused, trying to understand. “Everywhere- Ed, are you-?”

His brain short circuited, as he realized that Eddie had tried to warn him about *something.*

“Eddie, did something- you were trying to tell me something earlier. About something ‘eating ya’ or…” He couldn’t find the right words. “You were trying to tell me about… something.”

"Uh-huh.."

“Eddie, what *is* it?” He paused, then said it plainly. “What can eat you?”

The question burned in his stomach, as he tried to get Eddie to answer it- he needed to know. *Please, please, please don’t be a monster.* "The d-demobats i-i talked about.." Steve’s jaw dropped, his heart racing.

The demo*bats.*

They couldn’t be real- there’s no way.

But in his heart, he knew they were. And- there was one more question he needed the answer to, and he needed it now.

“Eddie… did they- I mean- did they… *hurt* you?”

"Y-eah.." Steve’s mouth shut. And then he asked a question that his mind immediately tried to stop him from saying.

But no matter how many ways he rephrased it in his head, he had to ask it all the same.

“Did they- d-did you lose any limbs?”

God, he hated saying it- but he had to know the state Eddie was in. He had to know how bad Eddie’s wounds were, how bad the damage and the *pain* was. "D-does it look l-like I have both a-arms?" Steve paused.

His mouth dropped, as he tried to hold his tongue.

But- “N-no, Ed, I- I’m sorry.” He said, before immediately regretting it.

“I just- I wanted to make- to make sure. You’re not….”

He felt himself freeze up- and he paused, before he finally finished the thought.

“You’re not dead, Eddie?”

"N-not dead yet.." Steve felt his heart break.

His friend, Ed- he wasn’t dead yet. That was both *good* and *disastrous* at once.

Because if Ed was “not dead yet,” then that meant he was close to death. And- Steve didn’t know what to say.

“Ed…” It was strange for him, speaking to Eddie’s spirit. But he knew he had to say the right words. “You can’t *die,* not like this. Eddie, you know that.”

"No, H-harrington.. I a-aint survivin' t-this one.." Steve felt shock, horror, and *dread* fill his soul. Because- if Eddie said he wasn’t surviving this, he wasn’t.

Eddie wouldn’t say it if he were going to survive.

“W-what are you saying?” Steve said, his voice choking as he stepped closer to the bed.

“What are you meaning, Eddie?”

His eyes went to Eddie’s wounds- the burns and the cuts and the blood.

*Oh god.* "I-i meant what I s-said..." He felt panic begin to rise in his stomach- and he knew he didn’t want to ask this question.

But he didn’t have a choice.

“What- *what* are you saying, Eddie?” He repeated.

The words were already on his tongue, he could feel them. And now, he couldn’t *not* say it.

“Are you dying, Eddie?”

"Heh.. ye-yeah..." His heart sunk, his mouth falling open.

He had known it- he had *feared* it- but now, Eddie was saying it.

“No, Eddie, no, no, no-“

He could feel tears forming at his eyes, but right now, he couldn’t let himself break down. He would go through the motions, he would act the way he had to act, but he wouldn’t let himself crumble.

“Eddie, I- I don’t want you to die. You cannot die, Ed.”

"I don't wa-wanna die either, St-steve.." He felt his jaw shake, as he felt his soul shatter with every second he was in this room.

Eddie was dying. Eddie was dying, and there wasn’t anything Steve could do.

“I- Eddie, I can’t-“ The words came out in a shaky breath.

“I don’t- I- can’t- Eddie…”

He suddenly felt sick- and so he shut up, trying to contain himself as he let his tears fall. "It- it's okay, st-eve.."

“No, Ed, no it isn’t okay.”

He tried to keep his mouth shut but the words just… fell out of him.

“This isn’t okay, Ed, it’s- Eddie, I-“

“*This isn’t okay*.” He said, his tears falling faster. The thought killed him. *Eddie* was dying.

It was awful. Truly awful, and everything in him felt *broken.* "Hey.. take.. t-take care of the l-little sheepies f'me.. o-okay?"

“You-“

He was at a loss for words, and instead of trying, he settled for the most common response, the one that always showed up when he didn’t know how to respond.

“Yeah, Ed.” He said, his voice wavering.

He suddenly remembered what Eddie meant by the sheep - Dustin, Max, Lucas, and the others- and he looked up at Eddie.

“I’ll- I’ll take care of the little sheepies, Ed. Don’t you worry.”

"Yeah... i-i trust ya, s-steve.." Steve felt his throat tighten, and tears begin to fall.

“Thanks.” His voice was shaky, but he still tried to show how much he appreciated Eddie’s gesture.

“I- uh, Eddie…” He was at a loss for words, he didn’t know what to say.

He wanted to say that it was going to be okay. He wanted to promise Ed that it would be okay.

But it wasn’t going to be.

And Eddie knew it too. "I... i-i know it.. a-and no, i-it ain't gonna be o-okay.." Steve gulped, and tears began to fall faster.

He wanted to deny it, to deny what Eddie was saying- but, he couldn’t.

It wouldn’t be okay. Eddie knew it, and Steve knew it.

But maybe- maybe Eddie could be a miracle, just this once. He wanted to hope that- but that was his heart talking, not his mind. Because he knew- Ed couldn’t possibly be a miracle, not when he had burns and wounds all over his body.

Why was this life so cruel to Eddie? "I need a-a miracle.." Steve’s eyes widened, when Eddie spoke.

Eddie was praying- for a miracle.

And with those words, the universe did a funny thing- it seemed to go silent, as if it had its fingers crossed, hoping for the same.

*Could Eddie be the miracle?* It was a stupid thought, it was an impossible thought- but he wanted to believe it.

“Eddie…” His voice was barely a whisper. “I-I think a miracle-“ He tried to stay calm, to remain sane about it. “I think a miracle can happen, Ed.”

"How? H-how, Steve?"

“E-Eddie- I-“ His mind went blank- because, the answer was obvious.

He didn’t want to say the word though- he was afraid of the universe hearing him, and the thing he was afraid of finally happening.

So he took a deep breath, before speaking the words that were on his tongue.

“You know what- a miracle would be, Eddie?” His mouth trembled as he answered. “A miracle would be- y-you surviving this.”

"Yeah.. i-ill believe in miracles i-if I survive.." His heart broke, because Eddie *was* his miracle. He had prayed to the universe, and Steve was praying right alongside him.

“Eddie, I-I-I-“

He didn’t know what to say. But- he knew what he wanted to do.

He wanted to hug Eddie. He wanted to hold him, to let Eddie know that it was going to be okay. But if he did- he knew it wouldn’t help.

So he did the next best thing. He took Eddie’s hand. "Heh.. preparing f'me t-to die already, h-harrington?"

“No! Oh god, no.”

He gulped, and paused.

“Eddie, I just- I- I don’t know what to- what to say- but you need to know that I-“ He tried to keep his words clear, to make them as strong as possible.

“I love you, Eddie.”

He paused, and he said the word he was always afraid to say.

“Eddie, I love you, and- I- and you can *beat* this.”

"Wha.. you.. l-love me..?" Steve felt a wave of fear wash over him. He hadn’t planned it- it had slipped out, almost like a stutter.

Was Eddie going to try to laugh it off?

“N-no, Eddie, please, I-“

He couldn’t let this happen. Eddie couldn’t die *minutes* after he had confessed his love.

“No wait- Eddie- I- I mean- I mean…”

"You.. love me..?" He stopped. He stopped trying to deny it at that point- he tried saying the words, *he tried telling Eddie they weren’t true-*

“Y-yes Ed, goddamn it, I- I love you! Okay?!?”

He blurted it out, and his eyes widened. It finally happened. He- he had said it. He had said the words he had always been afraid of, the words Eddie had always wanted to hear from him.

But Eddie was *dying.* Eddie was dying and he couldn’t die knowing Steve loved him! "C'mere a m-moment.." Steve’s heart was beating at a million miles a second. What was Ed doing- was this a trick? Was Eddie going to make fun of him, was Eddie-

Wait- did Eddie just want to hug him?

As he moved closer to Eddie, tears started to fall- and he opened his arms.

He wasn’t worried about anything if it meant- if it meant getting one more hug- *if it meant getting to be close to Eddie once more…* "Can.. c-can you.. k-kiss me?" His heart skipped a beat.

For a solid minute, Steve stood there, his eyes widening in shock, his body frozen as he tried taking in Eddie’s request.

*Kiss him?*

Eddie asked *him,* to *kiss him?*

Steve looked for the hidden camera- it had to be a prank! But- no, there was no hidden camera. There was just Eddie and his wounded body… and his eyes, which had tears in them, and he looked… broken.

He looked vulnerable.

“Yes, Ed. *Yes.*” You started crying as you felt death creeping into your head. You went limp and stopped seeing things. "*i-i l-love y-you, h-harrington*" were your last words. You had a slight smile on your face as you died, and now it faded away like the life you once had. You heard him but couldn't respond. You wanted to yell. Then everything stopped. You weren't thinking. It was like being asleep. Permanently. He pulled away, feeling tears still fall from his eyes.

He didn’t know if he should close Eddie’s eyes, or-

“Ed?” He asked, feeling his heart break. “Eddie- Ed- Eddie, c’mon, please, c’mon, Eddie, Eddie… Ed, Ed- *Ed, Ed, Ed!* PLEASE!” His voice was breaking as tears flowed down his cheeks. He pushed on Eddie’s chest, trying to make it beat again, trying to get Eddie’s lungs to fill with breath again- He felt his body shake, as his last bit of hope left him. He felt his eyes burn, as he let his tears fall.

He kept pushing, and pushing, and pushing, and-

He stopped, and his head fell against Eddie’s chest.

He knew that he had died, and he felt his soul break.

“No.” He said, in a voice that was so close to a whisper.

“No, no- please- no, Eddie”

But- the word ‘please’ wouldn’t work.

Because- Eddie was gone..

#eddie munson #steve x eddie #steve harrington #steve harrington angst #eddie munson angst #angst #heartbreak #crying rn #i made myself cry writing this

[siriusmydeer]

his bunny

remus lupin x fem!reader

summary: remus sees you tutoring someone before a full moon, and he gets jealous.

word count: 3.1k

warning: fem!receiving oral, pet names, breeding kink, degrading, creampie, choking, penetration, missionary, edging, marking, possession kink, swearing, kissing, mentions of tearing up, mentions of subspace, dom!remus, sub!reader, daddy kink, size kink

a/n: this wasn’t requested but i wanted to write a long smut for 500 followers so THANK YOU. also happy birthday daddy lupin

5:04pm— fuck, you were late.

three hours of incessant tutoring, i mean making amortentia wasn’t immensely difficult but you had top marks in potions so you could’ve been biased. well that was unless you were a fifth year hufflepuff with their head up their own arse.

the only reason you agreed to use your your at liberty time was mainly because mcgonagall bribed you with house points that could’ve meant well later on.

“no— you stir anti-clockwise four times, not clockwise three times.” your teeth were gritted, in a jaw lock as your patience slowly drained because he failed to make such a simple potion yet again. a harsh sigh left your mouth while you to undergo all the steps again and fix the potion and restart it yet again.

“sorry—“ “nope, it’s fine. don’t apologize.” swiftly cutting off the younger boy with the only stoicism you had left. you were tremendously trying to restrain yourself from screaming in his face that he was keeping you from your boyfriend and all you wanted was to be done with this foolish potion.

as you were in the midst of explaining how to put the powered moonstone into the cauldron you heard the mahogany door of the library swing open with a small creak, revealing your agitated boyfriend. his face was flushed, he was angry; due to his low amount of patience and mood control of the week before the brimming moon he so effortlessly dreaded.

you watched his eyes erratically scan the room, eying every student before his narrowed eyes watched your dumbfounded figure, startled by his sudden outburst. of course, you weren’t surprised by his high-temperamental acts that landed right smack in the library but you had made a promise to a professor you had adorned and you were silently trying to create a monologue to reason with your short-tempered boyfriend.

your breath suddenly slows into shallow breaths at the view in front of you. a sharp march in your direction, walking over to your table wondering why you’re in the library with another male, that was not him. your thoughts were barely registering in your brain like a puzzle you had to quickly put together, kyle, the hufflepuff you had been tutoring finally put together in his brain to stir in the correct direction and actually finished the potion error-free.

“y/n.” you heard deep voice of your boyfriend suddenly a meter away from your sat figure on the old wood of the chair. his arms are crossed in a defensive manner, his patience suddenly cut short and anger starting to freely bubble in his tone and body language.

“yes— sorry! i was— am tutoring, erm... kyle, remus, remus, kyle.” your words sputtered by the intimidating tone of your boyfriend, attempting to ease the tension by introducing him to the hufflepuff.

what was usually to come with the full-phase of the moon is recurrent mood swings, immense possessiveness, overbearing jealousy, teeth-gritting impatience and the overflow of sorrow. yes, it was almost maddening how he just assumed anyone with a palpitating heart was interested in you.

on the other hand, it also made you tremendously turned on by his demeanour of wanting to claim you all for himself.

“oh, sorry— must’ve kept you... finished my potion. thanks for the help, y/n.” the boy awkwardly trailed off, remus freezing up at the boy just saying your name.

you were his, and he wanted everyone to know it.

the younger hufflepuff sensing the tension grabbed his satchel as well as his books and giving you a nod on the way out of the library. “remus— i promise, it’s just studying.” the sentence incoherent from the rapid blubbering of your words attempting already trying to ease your boyfriend, standing up and putting your agile hands onto his fit torso.

his body slightly loosening from your delicate touch, but still feeling the swing of his mood suddenly change back into short tempered and angered from another male keeping you from him; feeling the dominating jealously run coarse through his system sensing the feeling of of dominance about to explode through him like a firework.

as we was in a daze, his eyes narrowed onto your figure. you awkwardly shifted confused on what you were suppose to do as he stood there staring at you. in an attempt to create a less tense environment for you both you started to pack your things. your mind putting the puzzle pieces together slowly, preparing you for a long intense night.

his attention quickly snapped on your smaller figure, his whole body being able to hover over you with his slender one. he blinked at you for a moment before carding your fingers together and dragging you out of the library as subtle as possible all the way to the gryffindor tower where his dormitory had been for the last six years.

much to remus’ content, that day was quidditch practice so that knocked out both sirius and james from occupying the dorm. peter had been out with his ravenclaw partner working on a defence against the dark arts essay, which meant his dormitory was completely empty; and free for use.

as soon as the oak wood of the door was closed you were immediately pressed against it; feeling small splinters hit the back of your blouse and the feeling his abrasive fingers squeezing the sides of your throat. your flat adam’s apple bobbing his his velvety palm whilst he held you against the door.

“you’re. mine.” his tone dark and possessive, his face lowering to meet yours to the point you could feel his heavy breath fan over your flushed face; caught off guard from his actions.

“only mine to love, only mine to touch, only mine to fuck.” he emphasized his words as he spoke, his grip growing tighter on your throat feeling the tips of his fingernails graze your skin.

your breath heaving as he continued to keep eye contact slightly intimidating you, your irises blowing out in lust at the tone of his voice. “show me... show me i’m yours.” you jabbered, your voice slightly shaking in a whisper due to his hand restricting your throat but still able to keep a steady breath aside from your exceedingly high heart rate.

he was taken a back by your insist for his dominance amplified by the full moon. your sentence clicked in his brain, his other hand carding through the nape of your hair and the remaining hand holding your throat unapplying all the pressure, eventually pulling your face in his direct view, he was debating on what to do; still afraid that he might go to hard and hurt you.

he opted for the option that pursued him pushing your lips together, feeling your chapstick-coated lips meld into his. continuing his actions but slipping his tongue slip into your mouth, his familiar and comforting flavour bleeding onto your taste buds and the the tinge of mint and strawberry transfusing onto his own tongue.

the male started to squeeze the column of your throat, squeezing the sides emitting an almost incoherent whine from you. the grip he had on your hair was enough to tug you towards his four poster bed. letting your back fall against the made bed and his own body loitering above your own.

his lips were aggressively separated from yours, before you could even muster another whine his lips collided with the side of your neck. feeling his lips suck into your skin, giving little bites as he continuing his marks across the expanse of your neck.

he sat up for a moment to admire his work, looking at your neck in awe of how beautiful you look with his markings. his hands got a hold ripping off both his tie and his dress shirt from his body that was beginning to burn in desire.

he finally got his fingers around your house tie instantaneously chucking the fabric across his dorm, and jerking open your white blouse almost tearing most of the buttons that were sewed into your top in the process.

“remus— my top!” you abruptly cried out at the broken blouse that now lied on the floor. “be quiet.” he demanded, not in the mood to play little games. his lips now suckling against your collar bone, his large hands grazing down your torso and firmly digging into the sides of your waist.

you squirmed at the sudden pressure that was pressed into your sides. his other hand grabbed at your thigh vigorously melding you into his mattress, the other securely wrapping his fingers around the depth of your throat. feeling your pulsating heart through his fingers that had been plummeting in anticipation since your arrived in his dorm.

“daddy— please.” you whimpered, the sudden urge of lechery scathing your nervous system completely, drowning out any other forms of feeling. you wanted him, you needed to feel him.

“awe— you’re begging like the whore you are.” his voice in strict mockery and faux-sympathetic tone, grinning at your squirming figure beneath his own.

“m’sorry- i jus’ i need you!” continuing to plead as his face that was smirking like the cheshire fucking cat. his hand moved from the level planes of your thigh all the way to your bum, kneading the flesh, bound to become scarlet, within his smooth palms.

“be a good girl for once, and be quiet.” remus reprimanded, his tone thick and hoarse; his dominant headspace slowly blurring his vision.

he glanced upon your torso, the gryffindor pride running throughly around his veins knowingly that everyone would see the fuchsia and plum hues that rested prettily on your skin, that everyone would know whom you belonged too; him.

you stared up at his hovering body, his torso moving lower to and his lips beginning to sponge needy kisses to your lower abdomen, then further flipping up the fabric of your hemmed school skirt. ”dirty girl, these f’me?” the boy slurred while smirking, toying with the hem of your red-lace panties.

“mhm, yes daddy.” you feverishly nodded whilst answering your boyfriend. he snapped the red-lace against your navel once, producing a small shock through your body due to his manipulation; ultimately making your need exceedingly more in the time he spent trifling with your underwear.

“please— stop teasing daddy, i need you!” the whine escapes your throat as you spoke in anguish. the feeling of urgency for you boyfriend to touch you was plummeting through the roof as you attempted to restrict yourself from compressing your legs together and rid of the urge between your thighs.

“stop teasing? don’t you deserve it, hm?” he continued to mock at your inevitable squirming, snapping the thong right against your hip bone. hearing the small ‘snap’ that emitted from it following a small whine of need.

his face got closer, nosing at your core than further dragging the red-lace down the planes of your legs; tossing them on the oak wood floor. starting at your thighs splotching small wet kisses continuing whilst he progressed further up.

you began to card your trembling fingers through his fawn tresses, your fingers quivering from expectancy. his lips progressing further up the expanse of your inner thighs continuing to suck small splotches of vermillion on your inner thighs like he previously did across your throat. your body basically screaming ‘i belong to remus lupin!’

his eyes darted towards you once, one of your hands clutched onto his plaid bedding and the other clasping onto his roots; your head was thrown back, eyes rapidly blinking in suspense.

his to tongue made contact with your folds, feeling your arousal glaze his tongue while he constructed figure eight movements. he felt the gasp that was pulled through your lungs, and trifling moans trembling from your from your throat.

you felt remus’ tongue dive into the depths of your cunt, a small shockwave running up the crevices of your spine and settling itself in your belly awaiting for the feeling of pleasure to build.

“s’good daddy, so, s’good.” babbles of praise emitted from your lips as you clutched harder onto his fawn-coloured tresses. 

he continued to lap into your core, hitting sensitive spots that could make your legs mindlessly quiver. “daddy— m’gonna—“ as you were about to notify your boyfriend of your orgasam his lips pulled away entirely.

his own lips were slightly puffed out and wet from your arousal, his face slightly flushed from the dominance that had overtaken him. “y’didnt think i’d let you come that easily, did you?” remus taunted, a smirk making its way into his lips as your legs were starting to settle and the fire that was burnt into your belly had washed away like a small wave only awaiting his tongue more.

“but dadd—“ you attempted to coerce him, before he cut you off. “c’mon bunny, ‘ve got to teach you a lesson now. y’know what happens when you beg like a little whore, hmm?” he reprimanded yet again, whilst sneaking his tendril fingers back towards your thighs that he had previously marked; drawing small little swirls on the flesh of your skin.

he ran a slender finger through your folds once, feeling you spring up a bit in sensitivity. you felt tears prick your waterline in desperation, further feeling a second finger swipe through your arousal once more.

he lowered his face again beneath your skirt, kissing the skin of your navel once before putting his tongue to use: drawing lazy circles upon your clit.

your body started to feel the shockwaves of pleasure build slightly faster from the previous edge that had made your body sensitive to the touch. his abnormally large hands placed both your thighs on the density of his shoulders, pulling your cunt closer to him; his impossible werewolf strength giving him the means for his hands ableing himself to maneuver your whole body in anyway he wanted.

the burn in your lower abdomen is quickly rebuilt, pleasure running thick through your bloodstream. you were immensely fraught if he would let you finish, awaiting for the pleasure to take you in.

you felt him remove his tongue and replace its absence with his ring and middle finger, dragging through your walls that were clenching around his fingers. the sudden shock of being full beyond pleasuring you enough for your eyes to roll back, your back completely arching at his fingers dragging against your g-spot.

“daddy, daddy, please! ‘ve been good, learnt my lesson. i promise!” you jabbered in between moans at his swift fingers that could’ve had you gripping your own tresses if it weren’t for your hands being occupied with remus’ hair and his bed sheets. “let me cum, please let me cum.” gasping in a pleading and dire tone.

you felt suddenly empty again, no contact made with remus as he pulled his fingers from inside your clenched walls and swiping them through his tongue. he began to hover over your quivering body, the burn in your abdomen slowly began non-existent. you began to recoil your body; the same feeling of pricking tears making an appearance on your waterline.

“c’mon puppy, you can’t think your begging will break me now?” his tone condescending at you jutted your lips out with a pout. he ran his thumb across the expanse of your pouted lips once, before rapidly grabbing the nape of your hair forcing his bronze irises with green swirls into your own desperate-pleading eyes.

“if you’re such a good girl, you’ll cum when i say you can.” his tone strict, his hand ripping away from your tresses that began to become mangled from all the squirming you had previously endured from your orgasam pulled from you.

he quickly slotted his fingers around the buckle of his belt, swiftly pulling it off along with the material of his slack pants leaving him adorned in a pair of tight briefs. his hard-on obnoxiously present and intimidating, remus pulled your view up from his cock to his eyes with his thumb and forefinger resting under your almost-quivering chin.

“y’gonna be a good puppy and do what i tell you to, or y’gonna be bad and m’gonna have to punish you again?” remus questioned, seeing you eagerly nod at his question.

he anxiously rid himself of the intolerable tight material of his boxers. “m’little whore, this little skirt on.” he observed running the tip of his cock leaking in precum through your folds again. your body reacting to it extravagantly, additionally sensitive from his previous denied orgasams.

you panted in suspense, eyes widened and your arms grappling upon his scarred forearms that rested by the sides of your flushed face.

his velvet like hand grabbing both sides of your cheeks, jutting your lips into a recurrent pout. he smirked at your vulnerability and imprudence; the lust in your pupils directly for him.

“beg. beg like m’little fucking slut.” he spoke with a necessitated tone. you gasped a bit, suddenly feeling the immense pressure of his hands grappling at your cheeks and his prick slowly entering your cunt.

“please— please daddy, need you. need so you so, so bad. please i’ll— anything daddy, i’ll do anything.” gasping out slightly slurring your words that were mumbled, from his hands grasped on your face ; you felt as as he continued to push into you.

“finally, y’know how to do something right.” then you felt him slowly pulse in and out of you, your cunt hypersensitive feeling the pain and pleasure dance on your clit as his pubic bone rubbed against it with every thrust becoming more aggressive and rough.

from the built pleasure of seeing your writhe underneath him, his cock was ready to be overstimulated in the warmth of your cunt.

“m’little cockslut, doin’ so well f’me. gonna breed you like m’little bitch.” his voice slurred from pleasure as he praised you in the midst of his dominant blurred headspace. the building pleasure in his prick, was moving rapidly as the friction between you both building up briskly from the unabating tension and teasing.

“m’gonna cum, please, let me cum!” your voice rasped from crying out to him, and your gasps filling the empty spaces between your words.

“cum bunny, want you to cum.” his voice was sharp as he grunted, his jaw clenched almost at his point of own release but awaiting you to finish first.

at his que you sputtered out a mix of moans and ‘thank-you’s’ to him, feeling like a bunch of shock waves had warped your nervous system and releasing all of your arousal over remus’ cock. feeling like a bunch of stars at washed over your blurred vision, almost pushing you into further submission of him.

you panted deeply, trying to catch your breath feeling him plunge into your cunt one last time before his release had throughly coated your walls with his cum.

he was heavily breathing whilst he hovered over your quivering body, staying completely inside of you; keeping you full of his cum and clenched around his prick.

“that’s what happens when you’re late, m’dear.”

taglist: @fathermarty @idk-maybe-snape-did-it @kittykylax @terr0rizer @aspiringsloth20 @maddoxsmythologicalmind @georgeswh0re @amourtentiaa @dear-luna @famdomhideout @hufflepogue

#remus lupin fic #remus lupin fanfiction #remus lupin angst #remus lupin one shot #remus lupin x you #remus lupin x y/n #remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #sirius black x remus lupin #remus x you #james & peter & remus & sirius #remus angst #remus x reader #remus lupin smut #remus lupin supremacy #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter smut #harry potter

[crossbowking]

Honey & Whiskey

Summary: (Set throughout series) When the world ended, everything good died along with it. At least, that's what Daryl Dixon thought. But then he met a stranger in the woods and his entire world turned upside down.

A/N: HOLY MOLY. I can't believe it's here! I've been working on this story since October and I'm so excited for y'all to finally read it. This story is absolutely my favorite of all time and it's 20,835 words of pure Daryl POV (which is just *chef kiss*) — that being said, it’s also a slow burn...and I mean an entirely self-indulgent SLOWWWW burn. So strap in, y’all.

PSA: There are mentions of 'Dog' in this story that are sort of non-canon, especially now that we've seen a backstory as to how Daryl actually found him in the show...so for the sake of the story, let's just pretend 10.18 doesn't exist :)

Anywho, please be sure to share your thoughts with me afterward!

Happy reading!

xx Jess

Masterlist

Tip Jar

The sun dipped below the horizon, the sky alight with brilliant orange and yellow rays.

Daryl tilted his head back, glancing up at the shifting colors as night drew near. The air was crisp, a welcomed change from the usual summer heat. The streets of Alexandria were fairly empty, most already settling into their respective homes before nightfall. Though the unusual silence was near deafening, the archer paid it no mind.

He appreciated the quiet these days.

The grass poked and prodded beneath where he sat, but he simply shifted, drawing one knee to his chest, the other leg splayed out in front of him. He picked absently at one of the holes in his worn jeans, tugging at the string hanging off the fabric.

And then he thought of her.

Leaves and twigs crunched beneath Daryl’s boots as he traversed through the otherwise silent woods.

The farm was destroyed, winter was approaching, and there seemed to be an ever-looming pang of hunger in the pit of his stomach. He pushed away any inkling of weakness, forging ahead with determined strides. His people were waiting for him, hunkering down in an abandoned diner less than a mile East, hoping he’d bring back something to dull the growing ache inside all of them.

Daryl’s steps faltered — ‘his’ people.

The thought had come so naturally it nearly took him off guard. The feeling of community, of belonging, was something he’d never felt in his entire life. It was a strange notion, but that drive, that need he felt to provide, pushed him further out into the forest.

The archer kept his footsteps light, practically imperceptible, listening for noises only a seasoned hunter could distinguish. When a twig suddenly snapped off to his left, he froze, scanning the stillness around him. He raised his crossbow, the weight familiar in his grasp as he took a small step in the direction the noise had come from.

A moment later, Daryl spotted it — a lone raccoon just a few yards ahead.

The archer felt a rush of adrenaline, a tingling sensation in his fingertips as they hovered over the trigger. He exhaled a soft breath, focusing all his attention on the animal. But with his concentration elsewhere, it wasn’t until after he’d pulled the trigger that he’d realized he was no longer alone in the woods.

Daryl spun around, coming face to face with an incredibly grotesque-looking walker, teeth bared, arms outstretched, launching itself towards him. The archer braced his arm against the biter’s throat just in time, grunting under its weight as he stumbled backward.

“Shit,” he snarled through gritted teeth, tossing his unloaded weapon aside as he fought against the attack. Using his free hand, he reached for the hunting knife secured on his belt, grabbing onto the hilt.

But before he could yank it out, the world began tilting rapidly around him.

Daryl’s back slammed against the harsh wooded ground, his foot tangled up in an exposed root. He spat another vicious curse as the walker thrashed on top of him, snapping its mangled jaw closer and closer, growling in starved desperation.

Then suddenly, it stilled.

The archer froze, his gaze locked on the unexpected sight of one of his arrows now embedded through the biter’s temple. He snapped out of his reverie, shoving the dead off his chest and scrambling back to his feet.

And then he saw her.

She stood just a few feet away, her rapid breathing mirroring his own, looking as though she was seconds away from passing out. Her hair was matted by a mixture of blood and dirt, her clothes were torn and ratted, her wide eyes seemingly too big for her gaunt features. She had a nasty cut across her temple, blood dripping down the side of her face, past her neck, pooling at the collar of her shirt.

Daryl’s eyes bounced back up to meet hers — his guarded and calloused, hers unsure and fatigued.

“I’m assuming — this — is yours?” she spoke between heaving breaths, tossing something in his direction, the motion causing her to sway unsteadily.

Daryl glanced down, spotting the raccoon he’d shot earlier now lying at his feet — but the arrow he’d used to kill it was no longer there.

Now, it was lodged through the skull of the walker that’d attacked him.

The archer focused back on the stranger — but before he could respond, her skin was suddenly paling, her body crumpling to the ground like a paper doll.

Daryl stared down at her unmoving form in bewilderment. He could tell by the shallow rise and fall of her chest that she was at least breathing. The cut on her temple was still bleeding, the wound looking fairly recent — his best guess was a concussion or exhaustion. Most likely both.

He took a small step forward, almost hesitantly. But when his approach didn’t stir the stranger, he found himself facing an unforeseen decision.

He could leave her — he should leave her. She wasn’t his responsibility. She was a complete stranger. She chose to intervene, not him. She made that choice. Not him. Her.

Though as he turned to leave, as he scooped up the limp raccoon and shoved it into his bag, as he grabbed his strewn crossbow and strapped it across his back, one thing became startlingly clear.

He couldn’t do it — he couldn’t just walk away.

Daryl huffed a defeated breath. “Shit.”

He could’ve sworn that day in the woods was an entire lifetime ago.

Rick had nearly lost his damn mind when he’d returned to the diner with not only a small woodland creature in his pack, but a stranger slung over his shoulder.

“Is she dead?” Carl pressed nosily, hovering by the booth where the stranger was now laid out, still unconscious.

Lori quickly intervened, moving forward with one hand on her protruding belly, the other grabbing onto Carl’s shoulder. “Step back, baby. Give Hershel some space to work, okay?” she cautioned, pulling the inquisitive boy away.

“Oh, it’s quite alright — I’m just about done here anyways,” Hershel drawled, setting aside the blood-soaked cloth he’d been using to tend to the stranger’s head wound.

Daryl watched the exchange from across the room, arms folded tight against his chest, ignoring the stares coming from other group members.

The front door of the diner suddenly swung open as Rick marched through. He shot the archer a disapproving look before addressing the others. “I think we’re okay,” he finally spoke, re-holstering his pistol. “If Daryl had been followed here, I’m sure we would’ve known by now. We’ll keep somebody on watch — jus’ as a precaution — an’ get back on the road first thing.”

The archer gnawed on the inside of his cheek as the rest of the group began whispering amongst themselves, clearly distressed about the possible danger his decision may have put them in.

Rick approached a moment later, his steadfast strides immediately setting Daryl on edge. “Can I speak with you?” the sheriff hissed, glancing over his shoulder and locking eyes with Lori’s worried gaze. “In private?” he added in a hushed tone before turning around and storming back outside.

Daryl scoffed under his breath, pushing away from the counter he’d been leaning against and stalking after Rick.

The archer yanked the door open, the cool air biting at his skin as he followed suit. He spotted Rick pacing back and forth across the parking lot, surveying the surrounding woods warily before spinning around and facing him head-on.

“What the hell were you thinkin’?” Rick demanded, taking a step forward.

Daryl fought back the instinctual urge to be on the attack. Instead, he took a breath. “What was I supposed ta’ do, man? Jus’ leave her out there?” he countered, eyes narrowing.

“You don’t bring her here,” the sheriff snapped before pinching the bridge of his nose, attempting to collect himself. “We — we have ta’ look after our own, Daryl — you know that. We have no idea who she is, where she came from, who she’s with,” he specified sharply before shaking his head. “That’s jus' not a risk I’m willin’ ta’ take. Are you?”

Daryl held Rick’s gaze for a long moment before looking away, glancing towards the tree line. The sheriff had a point, he couldn’t deny that. But there was something inside him, a nagging sensation in the pit of his stomach that said otherwise.

Rick slowly nodded, interpreting Daryl’s silence as an answer. “When she wakes, she’s gone,” he finally resolved, stepping past the archer and back towards the diner without another word.

But Daryl couldn’t let it go. “Hey,” he called after Rick, the sheriff’s strides halting mid-pace as he glanced back, the harshness in his features fading, unveiling a man with nothing but the weight of the world on his shoulders. “Back when Carl got shot, if Hershel had turned us away, what’d ya think would’a happened?”

Rick paused before exhaling a long, heavy breath, some of the fight leaving him with it. “That’s not — it’s not the same —”

“It is,” Daryl interjected. “It’s the same damn thing.”

The air grew quiet as Rick’s shoulders sagged, one hand resting against his hip. “My family…” he suddenly murmured, shaking his head sadly. “I can’t risk it.”

Daryl nodded once. “I get it. After everythin’ with Shane an’ Randall, losin’ the farm the way we did, I get it, man,” he rasped, regarding him earnestly. “But m’ tellin’ ya…this’s the wrong call, Rick.”

The diner door suddenly flung open, interrupting the conversation and revealing a flustered-looking Glenn.

“Uh, hey guys,” he interrupted, sending the pair an awkward wave. “Just wanted to let you know that she’s, uh — she’s awake.”

Rick and Daryl shared a look.

“And kinda freaking out,” Glenn quickly tacked on at the end.

Daryl didn’t hesitate. He stormed past Rick and back into the diner, making a beeline towards the small crowd that had gathered around her.

“— okay, it’s okay. We’re not gonna hurt you, sweetheart,” Lori spoke softly, holding her hands out in front of her as though approaching a caged animal.

The archer pushed through the group, spotting the stranger a moment later.

She was still sitting in the booth he’d initially laid her out in — though now she was huddled away from everyone, back pressed up against the wall, knees drawn to her chest in a cowering stance. Her gaze darted frantically around the room, clearly confused and disoriented and overwhelmed.

Daryl couldn’t even begin to understand why, but he felt a wave of outrage course through him.

“C’mon, people. She ain’t a fuckin’ zoo animal,” the archer growled abruptly, taking a defensive stance in front of the booth and motioning for the rest of the group to move back. “Give the girl some damn space.”

The archer waited until everyone stepped away before turning back around and glancing down at the stranger. He was surprised to see her eyes trained on him — even more surprised at the flush of heat that spread across his chest. He held her gaze a second longer before Rick appeared, parting through the crowd like Moses and the Red Sea.

The stranger shrunk away.

Daryl wondered why the sight bothered him so much.

Rick came to a slow halt in front of her. “What’s your name?” he finally asked, his tone measured and firm.

The stranger did another sweep of the room, as though surveying just how much possible danger she was in. But when her eyes flashed up towards the archer once again, some of her unease faded. “Y/N,” she spoke hesitantly.

Rick nodded slowly before extending his arm. “Rick Grimes.”

Y/N looked at the gesture cautiously. Still, she reached out and took his hand in hers.

She appeared composed but Daryl noticed the slight tremble in her grip.

After a brief shake, Rick grabbed an empty chair and sat down at the end of the booth, resting his forearms against the table. “So, Y/N,” he began, giving the archer a look of resolve. “What happened ta’ you?”

The time after the farm fell was foggy, each day blurring into the next, suffocated by a heaviness the unknown inherently brought. But that day, the day he met her, ran stark against the rest.

Y/N had told her story like Rick asked her to do. She spoke of the small group she’d been staying with and the refuge they’d built, ultimately destroyed by the dead. Everybody had scattered — and if they hadn’t…

Any previous hesitancies the group held melted into understanding and sympathy almost immediately.

Daryl had known Y/N would be accepted into the group. Rick had hardened since the farm, but he wasn’t heartless. He wouldn’t be able to turn her away, just as the archer hadn’t been able to leave her out in those woods.

Spending the winter season on the run had been difficult for everyone — constantly running from the dead, cold and bitter nights, supplies growing scarce. The road was unforgiving, proving time and time again how completely fucked this new world was, how things would never return to the way they were, how this was now the new way of life.

Though for Daryl, if he was being honest, it wasn’t all bad — not in comparison to what his old life had given him.

He’d choose a lifetime of running over the stench of whiskey and the sting of belt buckles any day.

The only other person who’d appeared unaffected was Y/N. Besides showcasing a natural skillset in survival, she’d found her place amongst the group with ease — so effortlessly that Daryl hadn’t been able to recall what life looked like before her. She exuded a warmth that people were drawn towards — that the rest of the group clung to during the darkest of days.

But not Daryl.

He’d kept her at a distance, kept her at arm’s length because he refused to let her in as everyone else had.

Little did he know.

Daryl swiped at the beads of sweat dripping down the sides of his face.

The Georgian heat was nearly suffocating, blanketing over his body and setting his skin ablaze. He pushed away the discomfort, bending down and grabbing the ankles of one of the many walkers spread out across the prison’s courtyard. He’d lost track of how many bodies he’d dragged out, his group working tirelessly to clean out their newfound home.

The archer had just pulled the limp body through one of the fences, nearing the pickup truck used for disposal, when he heard someone approach.

“Need a hand?”

Daryl stilled — he glanced up, his eyes locking with Y/N’s, a small smile tugging at her lips.

Her hair was pulled back out of her face, a thin sheen of sweat laid out across her forehead. One hand rested on her hip, the other hovered near her face, blocking the sun rays. The sleeves of her shirt were rolled up past her elbows, streaks of dirt and blood visible against her exposed skin.

He realized then that she was really rather beautiful.

The intrusive thought caught the archer completely off guard. He quickly turned his attention downward, grunting a half-assed ‘nah’ before continuing his trek to the pickup truck, determined to preserve some space between them.

But instead of leaving, as he’d assumed she would, Y/N remained rooted in place.

Daryl faltered, the expression that flickered across her face hinting that maybe she hadn’t come to just ‘lend a helping hand’. She had something on her mind — he could tell by the way she snagged her bottom lip between her teeth, gnawing absently as she shifted her weight back and forth.

The archer dropped his hold from around the walker’s ankles and straightened. “What?” he demanded gruffly, curiosity getting the best of him.

Y/N’s eyes found his as she took a small step forward — Daryl fought back the urge to back up. “I, uh —” she paused, her mouth twisting to the side as though fumbling for the right words. “Just — thank you.”

Daryl’s brow furrowed. “For what?” he huffed.

Y/N’s head cocked to the side, seemingly surprised. “I — I don’t know,” she murmured, a soft, sort of bewildered laugh slipping past her lips. “For bringing me here, for introducing me to your people — for everything, I guess,” she expressed sincerely. “You could’ve just left me out in those woods that day — most people would’ve.”

The archer chewed on the inside of his cheek, feeling incredibly exposed for some strange reason. “Was nothin’,” he finally grunted, ignoring the prickle of heat at the tips of his ears.

“It wasn’t nothing,” Y/N replied indignantly, like she was offended at the notion that he didn’t deserve her gratitude. “You saved my life.”

Daryl shifted uncomfortably, wanting nothing more than for this interaction to be over with — because once that happened, he could go back to maintaining his distance, he could go back to allowing the air between them to be just that. “Figured I owed ya,” he finally mustered, recalling the first day they’d met.

Y/N’s lips curled up into a megawatt smile and Daryl could’ve sworn he’d never seen anything so damn captivating in his entire life. “Okay,” she grinned, sticking her hand out in front of her. “We’ll call it even then.”

The archer glanced down at the gesture before warily reaching forward, taking her hand in his, and shaking once, twice, three times. Her grip was firm and she didn’t seem to mind the grime coating his skin.

When she pulled away, Daryl felt the empty spaces she’d filled set ablaze.

Y/N shot him one last smile before turning around and heading back towards the courtyard. But she’d only made it a few feet when she paused, glancing over her shoulder. “Make sure you eat something, okay?”

She didn’t wait for a response — instead, she narrowed her eyes, shooting him a look in mock-seriousness as if to say ‘I’m watching you’. Then her face broke out into another grin before she sent him a small wave — and she was gone.

Daryl watched her leave, unable to pull his gaze from her retreating form.

He tried to ignore the mess his mind was becoming, littered with confusion and insecurity, the nagging voice that lingered telling him he’d never be good enough, strong enough, brave enough for anything other than what he’d always known.

He wouldn’t let her in — he couldn’t let her in.

But as he bent down, grasping onto either ankle of the walker at his feet, he felt a tingling sensation in his fingertips he swore had everything to do with the Georgian heat and nothing to do with her.

A gentle breeze roused Daryl from his thoughts.

He shifted from where he sat, reaching into the pocket of his jeans for the pack of cigarettes he kept there.

The package was falling apart, half-crushed, half-wrinkled from everyday wear and tear, but the archer slipped one of the few remaining cigarettes out anyway and caught it between his lips.

It hadn’t taken long for him to realize that keeping Y/N at arm’s length was a futile attempt — he’d been naive to think it was possible in the first place.

Before he knew it, she’d wormed her way into the forefronts of his mind and found herself a nice, cozy corner to call home. She’d done it as effortlessly as the blink of an eye or the beat of a heart. It just happened — no rhyme or reason, no explanation or logic. It just happened.

Which made leaving that much harder.

“Daryl!”

The archer ignored Glenn’s shout, marching further into the woods and approaching a snide-looking Merle. “C’mon, bro,” the younger brother grunted, worried if they didn’t leave right then and there, he’d change his mind and return to the prison with the others.

Merle’s booming laugh sounded, drawing Daryl from his thoughts. “Well, I’ll be damned,” the man sneered, tossing an arm around the archer’s shoulders. “Looks like somebody decided ta’ grow himself a big ole’ pair a’ cojones while I was gone,” he snarked, pushing Daryl forward and falling in step beside him.

The archer pressed his lips together, swallowing his retort and focusing ahead.

“Hey, wait up!”

The voice that sounded halted Daryl in his tracks. He spun around, spotting Y/N making her way through the forest, her strides long and determined as she headed straight towards him.

“Well, would ya look a’ that,” Merle quipped under his breath, leering at her approach, his tone sending a swell of aggravation through the younger brother.

“Jus’ gimme a minute,” Daryl quickly waved him off, ignoring the prickle of heat creeping up his neck as he trudged towards her.

Y/N came to a stop in front of him, slightly out of breath, her eyes searching his for a long moment.

She seemed to have something to say, a reason for chasing after him — but it was as though she couldn’t get the words together. She glanced down, shaking her head slowly before taking a deep breath. When she looked back up, Daryl noticed a resignation in her gaze that wasn’t there before.

“Are you sure about this?” she finally asked, her troubled expression sending a pang of guilt through him.

Daryl looked away. Truthfully, he wasn’t sure — he wasn’t sure about anything anymore.

He shifted his weight, focusing back on her. “Ya watch out for yourself, ya hear me?” he rumbled, pushing away the unexpected worry gnawing at him.

Y/N’s shoulders sagged in disappointment, her defeated expression damn near changing his mind altogether. “I will,” she murmured, a bittersweet smile ghosting across her features.

Daryl held her gaze a moment longer before nodding once, turning without another word.

But he’d barely taken a step when he suddenly felt her grab his wrist and twist him back around.

Before he knew what was happening, Y/N was hugging him. She threw her arms around his middle and squeezed tight, leaving Daryl completely and utterly dumbfounded. His arms hung limply at his sides, caught off guard by the surprising gesture. Though as soon as it’d begun, it ended. Y/N unwound herself from around his body and took a step back, a pink tinge to her cheeks he hadn’t noticed earlier.

She whispered a somber goodbye — though Daryl couldn’t hear it over the sound of the blood rushing to his ears — and then she was gone.

The archer fought back the urge to follow, telling himself over and over again that he was making the right decision — he was choosing blood, he was choosing family, he was choosing —

“Hey! Where’s my hug at, sweet cheeks?” Merle’s suddenly hollered, calling after Y/N.

She didn’t look back and Daryl fought back the impulse to start swinging.

But Merle just laughed, the noise loud and boisterous as he sauntered forward. “Damn, lil’ brother. Didn’t think ya had it in ya! I was startin’ ta’ think ya played for the other fuckin’ team’,” he jeered, clapping the archer on the back with more force than necessary.

Daryl’s entire body tensed up, his darkened gaze snapping towards his brother. He noticed then that Merle was also watching Y/N — though his eye line was fixated on one specific part of her body…

“Let’s go,” the archer spat under his breath as he spun around and stormed off, his hands balling into fists.

He had to walk away. Otherwise, he’d lose it — he’d give in to instinct, he’d allow the rage coursing through him to take over, and all of this would’ve been for nothing.

So he took a deep breath, relaxed his clenched fists, and dismissed any lingering thoughts of her.

Daryl scoffed at the memory, an unlit cigarette still caught between his teeth.

He pulled out his lighter and flicked his thumb against the wheel, sparking a small flame before inhaling a deep breath. The familiar taste of nicotine and ash filled his senses as he drew smoke into his lungs, immediately feeling a rush of calm flow through him.

Daryl existed in the quiet, taking another long drag of his cigarette. He pulled his legs towards his chest, resting his elbows atop his knees, letting his hands dangle in front of him. He watched the lit cigarette butt dim and dance between his fingertips, the embers burning off and drifting into the grass.

It’d only taken a single day for the archer to come to his senses — to realize the mistake he’d made in leaving with his brother. And if he was being honest, it’d had nothing to do with Merle. He couldn’t blame his brother because his brother hadn’t changed — his brother was still the same brash, volatile, ill-tempered redneck he’d known his whole life.

No, it was him — he was the one who had changed.

“Would ya slow yer damn roll? I ain’t the athlete I used ta’ be, ya know!” Merle bellowed from somewhere behind Daryl, clearly struggling to keep up with the younger brother’s pace.

But the archer didn’t slow, his strides matching the beat of his pounding heart. He ducked under tree branches and side-stepped exposed roots, the prison growing nearer with each step he took.

It wasn’t until Daryl heard a sudden thud, followed by a viciously snarled curse, that he slowed. He spun around, spotting Merle pushing up off the forest floor.

“Ya good?” Daryl called out, crossing back and reaching down, offering his hand.

But Merle just swatted him away, his expression twisting in contempt as he staggered back to his feet. “Lemme ask ya somethin’,” he growled. “How the hell ya think this’s gonna go, huh? Ya think those assholes are jus’ gonna forget ‘bout everythin’ that happened? Ya think we’re jus’ gonna hug it out an’ sing ‘round the campfire like some kinda damn afternoon special?”

The archer fought back the urge to roll his eyes. “Ya —”

“This ‘bout that skirt from yesterday? Huh? That it?” Merle steamrolled over his attempt to interrupt, taking a step forward, the brothers now toe to toe.

Daryl felt a prickle of heat flush the back of his neck, his chest tightening. Merle was just trying to get a rise out of him — he knew that deep down — but damn, was it working. “It ain’t ‘bout her,” the archer growled defensively, fixing him with a glare. “It’s ‘bout survival, ’bout rebuildin’ — ‘bout tryin’ ta’ make somethin’ outta this shit world. It can’t jus’ be us out here, man — not anymore.”

Merle rolled his eyes. “Oh, c’mon, did Officer Friendly force-feed ya that bullshit?”

Daryl stiffened before huffing a breath and waving his brother off. He turned away, determined to continue his trek back home before it was too late — but he’d only made it a couple of feet when Merle called after him once more.

“It ain’t ever gonna work,” the older brother voiced, his usually brash tone dimming into something surprisingly vulnerable. “It — it jus’ ain’t. Not after everythin’ — not after what I did.”

The archer glanced back, watching Merle’s notorious bravado finally melt away, replaced with something he could’ve sworn looked like guilt. “We ain’t dead yet, man,” Daryl rumbled simply. “Still time ta’ make shit right.”

Merle considered his words for a long moment — but before he could respond, the sound of barraging gunfire exploded through the air.

Daryl’s head snapped in the direction of the noise, feeling his stomach drop when he realized where exactly it was coming from.

He took off into a sprint, Merle’s pounding footsteps echoing directly behind him.

Daryl lied to his brother that day.

In his defense, it hadn’t been deliberate. When Merle had questioned his intentions, alluding to the idea that Y/N was the main reason for his urgency to return home, the archer had denied it.

He hadn’t known it back then, but the truth became startlingly clear once he’d made it back to the prison, marched up the pathway leading to cellblock C, and laid eyes on her.

Daryl found Y/N crouched down beside Axel’s unmoving form, one hand resting on his shoulder.

His steps faltered, feeling as though he was intruding on a private moment — but he couldn’t help himself. The Governor had attacked the prison, his people were shaken, and damn it, he just needed to make sure she was okay.

She stood a moment later, turning to rejoin the rest of the group huddled by the fence, her despondent expression filling his bones with a red-hot rage.

But then her eyes met his.

Y/N’s footsteps stilled, her gaze widening in disbelief as she looked at him. A heartbeat passed between them before Daryl noticed how she was holding herself — hunched over slightly, one hand wrapped around the opposite arm, blood seeping out from between her fingertips.

He crossed to her in three long strides, ignoring the heat that flushed his chest the closer he neared.

Instead, he focused on the wound — that he could deal with, that made sense.

Unlike the unexpected and rapid thrumming of his pulse.

“Daryl,” she breathed in disbelief, her voice thick as though the word had gotten tangled somewhere in her throat.

His name sounded like honey the way it rolled off her tongue.

He shrugged off his crossbow and tossed it aside, wordlessly reaching forward and pulling her hand away from the injury. He examined the laceration carefully — which upon closer inspection appeared to be a gunshot wound — though luckily enough, the bullet seemed to have only grazed the side of her arm.

The archer reached into his back pocket, grabbed the red rag he kept there, and gently pressed it against the wound. “Jus’ keep pressure on it, alright?” he rasped, guiding Y/N’s limp hand to rest over the cloth, stalling the blood flow.

He glanced down at her, doing a slight double-take when he realized she was watching him, a slightly strained smile pulling at her lips. “You came back,” she whispered, her eyes warm despite the blood splattered across her cheek, the pallor in her complexion.

Daryl swallowed the lump in his throat, incredibly aware of how little space remained between them. He managed a stiff nod in response, his voice suddenly lost.

But Y/N’s smile merely grew, like the first hint of sunshine after a devastating storm.

And the tightness in his chest finally faded.

The archer inhaled another long drag from his cigarette, the smoke spilling past his lips and disappearing into the growing night.

Returning to the prison had given Daryl a sense of purpose, a sense of hope — he was back where he belonged and the threat of the Governor just didn’t seem so insurmountable anymore.

And then his big brother went and got himself killed.

Daryl stormed across the field that led to the prison’s courtyard, shoulders set, fists balled, eyes rimmed red.

The Governor would pay — he’d pay for what he’d done.

To Glenn, to Maggie, to countless others.

He’d pay for what he did to Merle.

The archer’s footsteps faltered, only briefly, when he spotted Y/N pacing back and forth behind the gate. Her head snapped towards him as he approached, her worried expression melting into relief as she quickly pulled the gate open for him.

“You okay?” she called to him, brow furrowing as she craned her neck, now looking behind him. “Where’s Merle?”

Daryl kept his gaze forward, digging his fingernails into the palm of his hand as he marched past her without a second glance. “Dead,” he grunted, ignoring the prickling sensation growing behind his eyes.

“What?” he heard her exclaim, though he didn’t turn around — he kept his momentum pushing ahead, hellbent on going after the Governor and taking him down once and for all.

No matter what the cost.

He stalked towards where he’d parked his motorcycle, slinging his crossbow over his back and mounting the bike in one swift motion.

But Y/N was just as quick.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” she jogged towards him, planting herself in front of the bike, an alarmed look in her eyes. “What’re you doing?”

Daryl felt a swell of anger wash over him, an unusual feeling when directed towards her. “Move,” he growled, using his heel to knock the bike’s kickstand up.

Y/N’s brow furrowed, his intent becomingly startling clear. “No.”

He was caught off guard by her protest, though snapped out of it just as soon — his scowl deepened, his eyes darkening, seeing nothing but redness and fury and Merle’s reanimated corpse flickering through his mind. “Move, damn it,” he snarled once more.

But Y/N stood her ground regardless of the wariness in her gaze. “No.”

The archer’s rage churned inside him, his grip white-knuckled around the throttle. “Ya —”

“Please, don’t do this,” she interrupted his brusque retort, shaking her head. “I promise — I promise — he’ll get what’s coming to him, but Daryl…this is not the way.”

He knew deep down she was right, but he didn’t want to hear it — he didn’t want to hear ration or reason or the pity in her voice.

He didn’t want to hear any of it.

“I’m sorry,” she suddenly whispered, emotion clouding her eyes. “God, I’m so sorry about Merle. I’m —”

Something inside the archer snapped. “Ya know what, ya can drop the damn act,” he hissed, springing off the bike and shoving it to the ground with a deafening crash. He ignored the way Y/N flinched as he barreled towards her like a surging storm. “Ya can stop pretendin’ like anyone in this fuckin’ place gave a single shit ‘bout my brother!” he fired back, his voice rising. “Or me, for that matter!”

Y/N recoiled away from him, eyes wide. “I’m —” she started, shrinking under his heated approach. “I didn’t —”

“Forget it,” the archer spat, unable to stop the fervor spewing out of him. “Ya don’t know shit.”

A beat of silence passed as they stared one another down — but the more the quiet stretched on, the more a different emotion began to seep through the archer.

Guilt.

Unable to watch the hurt settling across Y/N’s features, Daryl turned away, allowing his brewing vehemence to carry him across the courtyard and to the doors leading into cellblock C. He paused at the doorway, unable to stop himself from looking back.

He watched Y/N’s head lower, her shoulders drop, before she slowly reached down, grabbing his toppled motorcycle by the handlebars and propping it upright.

The archer swallowed his remorse, buried his instincts, and stalked inside.

Daryl hissed a breath as the burnt end of the cigarette singed his fingertip. He stubbed the flame out against the heel of his boot, flicking the butt away into the grass.

Still, to this day, he felt bad about losing his temper. The anger had clearly been misdirected, but in the moment, he hadn’t been able to get a handle on it — Y/N had simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Despite the aftermath of his outburst weighing heavily on him, he’d kept his distance from her throughout the days that followed.

Old habits die hard.

Daryl woke with a start, his eyes snapping open, chasing away lingering images of the nightmare he’d found himself immersed in.

Sleep had never been kind to him, even before everything went to shit — tonight was no different.

He could still see flashes of redness and death, smell the scent of rotting corpses and bloodshed, hear the sounds of tormented screams and anguished whimpers —

Daryl’s thoughts faltered as he quickly pushed up onto his elbows, straining his ears.

He realized then that the whimpering wasn’t coming from just his imagination. No, it was real — and it was coming from somewhere inside the cellblock.

The archer sprang up, untangling himself from the bed sheet coiled at his feet before shuffling towards the doorway. He paused there, his senses on high alert, the hair on the back of his neck standing on end as he listened carefully.

When another soft cry sounded, he moved from the entryway, slowly slinking past cell after cell and following the noise.

It wasn’t long before he found himself standing outside Y/N’s cell.

Daryl peered into the shadowed room, just barely able to make out the shape of her beneath the covers. She murmured something jumbled and incoherent, her words muffled as though her face was pressed into the pillow. She tossed and turned for a moment before finally settling.

When she remained still, the archer nearly left for his own cell.

But then he heard a quietly gasped sob and began moving forward before he could think twice.

Daryl crouched down beside Y/N’s bedside, turning on the lantern she’d left sitting on the floor. He shielded his eyes from the light until they adjusted before focusing on her.

She was curled up, covers drawn to her chin, faint tear tracks marking the sides of her face. Her brow was knitted, causing lines to form across her forehead — he fought back the urge to reach out and smooth them away.

Apparently, he wasn’t the only one sleep was unkind to.

Another soft whimper blew past her lips and Daryl reached for her, gently shaking her shoulder.

Y/N immediately jolted awake, shooting upright, disoriented and alarmed as her bleary eyes darted around the cell.

“Hey, hey,” Daryl quickly rasped, holding his hands out in front of him. “It’s alright.”

“What — what happened?” she croaked, her voice thick with sleep, her wide gaze finally settling on him.

The archer shook his head, pulling back slightly, second-guessing his decision to wake her. “Nothin’ — nothin’, alright? We’re okay.”

“What —” she sounded, a bewildered look flitting across her face as she settled her hand against her undoubtedly racing heart. “Are you okay?”

Daryl’s brow furrowed at her question, confused as to why that would be her next question and not ‘what the fuck are you doing in my cell?’ Regardless, he nodded once. “Yeah,” the archer brushed off her concern, sitting back on his haunches. “Ya — uh, ya were cryin’,” he revealed hesitantly, scratching the back of his neck as he watched for her reaction.

Y/N straightened, the top bunk just grazing the crown of her head as she dabbed her fingertip at the corner of her eye, appearing almost embarrassed suddenly. “Oh,” she whispered, wiping away the tears that’d formed.

Daryl gnawed on the inside of his cheek. “Ya alright?” he rasped after a long moment.

She quickly nodded her head, waving off his worry. “Oh, no — yeah, no, I’m fine,” she replied flippantly, shooting the archer a tight-lipped smile.

Despite Daryl seeing right through her bullshit, he didn’t push.

Instead, he nodded once and clambered back to his feet.

But he’d just barely turned to leave when Y/N spoke up once more. “Hey, Daryl?”

The archer faltered, glancing back at her. “Yeah?”

Her demeanor appeared collected, though he could see her hands twisting nervously around the sheet splayed out across his lap. “I —” she paused, seemingly working up the nerve to say what was next. “Are we okay?”

Daryl felt his chest tighten, the heaviness that’d grown between them splintering in that moment. There was something about her words, the smallness in her voice, that had him kicking himself for being so damn stubborn, for not making things right sooner.

She raked a hand through her tousled hair. “I just — I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have — I mean, I wasn’t trying to —”

“Stop,” Daryl cut off her rambling, shoving his hands into his pockets. “I was actin’ like an asshole,” he grumbled admittedly, the shame he’d buried creeping back in.

The tension in Y/N’s features softened as she regarded him. “It’s okay.”

For some reason, her easy forgiveness made Daryl’s insides churn.

“Nah, it ain’t,” he shot back sharply, almost wishing she’d curse him out instead. “Wasn’t right ta’ take that shit out on ya.”

“You were grieving,” she justified, her explanation simple and understanding.

Daryl worked his jaw, clenching and unclenching as he stared at the far wall of her cell, his gaze darkening — he didn’t deserve her compassion. “Well, ya probably stopped me from doin’ somethin’ real stupid,” he muttered dryly.

She merely shrugged, still completely unfazed. “Grief makes us do stupid things,” she murmured, defending him yet again. “I am sorry about your brother, you know,” she whispered a moment later, the sincerity in her voice knocking down the wall Daryl had worked so hard to keep between them.

He nodded slowly, clearing his throat before speaking again. “Merle was no hero,” he finally rumbled. “But he died tryin’ ta’ make shit right,” he mustered, his eyes finding hers amidst the shadows of her cell.

Y/N shot him a small, somewhat sad smile. “Then he didn’t die for nothing.”

Daryl swallowed the lump that formed in his throat, feeling as though his heart was moments away from bursting out of his chest. It was as though the cell was shrinking around him, the walls closing in — and the only thing keeping him above the surface was her.

“Get some sleep,” he managed gruffly, turning to leave once more.

“Daryl?”

The archer stilled. “Hm?” he sounded, not trusting his voice.

“Can you stay?” she whispered, so softly he almost missed it entirely. “Just a little longer?”

Daryl shifted his weight back and forth, feeling the overwhelming urge to run, to retreat to his own cell and pretend he hadn’t heard her.

But the slight tremble in her voice, something others surely would’ve missed, pulled him right back in.

The air thickened as he walked towards her, every fiber of his being screaming at him to make a run for it while he still had the chance. Y/N watched him approach, slightly wide-eyed, his steps faltering the closer he neared. She maneuvered slightly on the bed, moving towards the wall as though making room for him beside her.

Instead, Daryl did the most rational thing he could think of — he grabbed the empty mattress on the top bunk, slid it off the frame, and dropped it onto the floor next to her.

Y/N’s brow furrowed. “Oh, you don’t have to —”

“G’night,” Daryl interjected abruptly, avoiding her gaze as he quickly turned off the lantern and laid down. He crossed his arms tightly over his chest and squeezed his eyes shut, his face surely on fire.

The silence that followed was deafening.

Daryl peeked an eye open, certain she could hear his thrumming pulse from where she sat. But a moment later, the bed creaked as she settled back down against the rickety mattress.

He released the breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.

The archer wasn’t sure how much time passed before Y/N’s breathing evened out, the stranger from the woods all those days ago finally falling into a deep and restful sleep.

He, on the other hand, remained awake until morning came.

She’d asked him to stay and that was exactly what he was going to do.

Not even sleep could take him from her.

Everything changed after that night.

After the people from Woodbury moved into the prison, the demand for supplies nearly tripled. The archer found himself going on runs more often than not, hunting for game or scavenging local businesses — but the days and nights he was home were spent with her.

They fell into a routine of sorts. The days were spent working the fence or tending to things around the prison — but most nights, they’d sneak away from the others and spend hours sitting atop one of the unused watchtowers.

It became ‘their spot’, as Y/N had put it.

Some nights they sat quietly, existing in comfortable silence, watching the vast night sky. Other nights, Daryl would learn things about her — those were his favorite nights.

Y/N would talk about anything and everything — the mundane stuff, the deep stuff, the things in between — while Daryl would rest his head against the watchtower and close his eyes, listening to the way her voice rose and fell. She’d tell stories of her life before the end and her hopes for the future as though there still was one.

And over time, despite the world decaying at its very core, even Daryl started to believe that maybe, just maybe, there could be one.

She became his solace.

Hell, maybe she always had been, but he’d been too damn stupid to realize it.

“I’m sick of hearing myself talk,” Y/N suddenly spoke, a soft laugh following.

Daryl’s eyes snapped open as he glanced over at her, his brow furrowing.

She shifted from where she sat, the side of her face illuminated by moonlight. “Tell me something about you,” she said sweetly, her knee brushing against his as she rested one shoulder against the watchtower, giving him her full attention.

The archer felt his face warm under her curiosity. “Ya know plenty,” he grunted — and it was the truth. He’d told her more about himself than anyone else in his entire life.

“Oh, come on,” she countered and though Daryl couldn’t see it, he sensed an eye roll. “Just one thing? Something I don’t already know and then I’ll leave you alone.”

He huffed a breath. “Fine,” he grumbled, giving in.

Y/N waited patiently as the archer fell into thought, racking his brain for something to share — something even worth sharing. The silence that dredged on wasn’t helping either — if anything, it only added to the pressure. His life wasn’t all that interesting, never had been, never would be.

Daryl snuck a glance at Y/N — well, maybe that wasn’t entirely true.

“Uh,” he rumbled, scratching the back of his head. “I don’t know. Guess I always wanted a dog?” he mustered, the confession coming off more so a question than an actual statement.

Still, Y/N’s face broke out into one of her million-dollar smiles. “I can totally see you with a dog,” she beamed. “You never had one?”

Daryl almost shook his head, but then a faint memory came to mind. He looked away, propping his elbows against his knees and focusing straight ahead.

“When, uh —” he cleared his throat uncomfortably, picking absently at the skin beside his thumbnail. “When I was a kid, I was walkin’ home from school. Found this stray covered in mud, damn near skin an’ bones. An’ so I took it home,” he pressed his lips together before snorting a breath. “Even tied my shoelace ‘round its neck like a leash.”

“Aw,” Y/N sounded softly.

“Mhm,” the archer mumbled, the corner of his mouth quirking up.

After a stretch of silence lingered, she spoke up once more. “But you didn’t keep it?”

Daryl began picking at his skin a little more aggressively. “My old man — he was on a bender. Started screamin’ an’ hollerin’ when he saw me ‘cause he ‘didn’t wanna take care a’ no mangy mutt’,” he bit out, echoing his father’s words from all those years ago. “He threw somethin’ — don’t remember what. Maybe an empty whiskey bottle. Poor dog was scared outta its mind,” he murmured, shaking his head. “It pissed on the floor, right in front a’ him.”

Y/N’s expression turned troubled, her lips forming into a small frown.

Daryl ignored the tightness growing in his throat. “So he tossed the dog in his truck, drove off, an’ that was that — I never saw it again,” he finished, wincing as he ripped a small piece of skin off his thumb, drawing a drop of blood.

“What’d your dad do?” Y/N asked, her voice small.

The archer wiped the blood off onto his jeans. “Don’t know,” he shrugged, glancing over at her. “He never said an’ I never asked.”

She held his gaze for a long moment before letting out a soft sigh.

Daryl turned his head, staring out over the railing and into the darkened forest. He’d never told anyone that story — not even Merle, who’d been doing another stint in juvie at the time. The truth was, he carried a lot of guilt from that day. Sure, he was only a kid, but he was the one who’d brought the stray home in the first place.

Whatever happened to that dog…well, that was on him.

“Hey,” Y/N murmured, gently poking the side of his arm, drawing him back to her. “Maybe we’ll find you a dog of your own someday.”

Daryl quirked a brow, unconvinced.

“You never know,” she shrugged. “What would you name it?”

He scoffed softly in response, shaking his head.

“Come on,” she reached over and poked him once more. “Humor me.”

“How ‘bout this,” the archer relented. “If — an’ that’s a big-ass if — we ever find a dog someday, ya get ta' name it.”

Y/N’s face immediately lit up. “Me?”

“Mhm,” he nodded his head, feeling the corners of his lips twitch.

She exhaled a breath, her gaze widening. “This…this is a shit-ton of pressure, Dixon,” she whispered, the wheels in her mind, very obviously, turning.

Despite everything, a soft laugh rumbled from deep inside Daryl’s chest, the sound strange and unfamiliar. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d genuinely laughed — the noise got stuck in his throat, like his body was physically rejecting the sensation.

When he noticed Y/N watching him, a cheeky grin plastered across her face, his skin flushed.

“Okay, okay, let me think…” she grew serious, closing her eyes and resting her chin against her clasped hands. Not even a second later, her eyes shot open. “Got it!”

Daryl motioned for her to continue. “Lemme hear it.”

“Alright,” she shifted, facing him head-on. “Dog.”

The archer’s brow knitted together, his gaze narrowing. “Dog?”

“Dog,” she nodded resolutely.

“Ya — ya wanna name the dog ‘Dog’?” he questioned dubiously.

“Yup,” she grinned, popping the ‘p’.

Daryl rolled his eyes, fighting back a smirk. “Ya got a couple a’ screws loose, ya know that?” he teased, tapping the side of his head.

“Shut up,” Y/N laughed softly, nudging him with her elbow.

A beat of quiet passed between them before Daryl cleared his throat. “We ought'a head back,” he grumbled, starting to stand.

But then Y/N reached out, grabbing onto his hand. “Hang on,” she objected, looking up at him. “Just a few more minutes?” she asked, gently tugging his arm down.

The skin on his hand tingled beneath her touch as her gaze, warm like honey, melted further into his.

Before he could think twice, he found himself settling back down beside her, his hand still intertwined around hers.

Besides, when had he ever been able to say ‘no’ to her?

Daryl could’ve sworn those nights up in the watchtower were the best nights of his life.

Then the prison fell.

And destroyed everything good along with it.

“Do you miss her?”

Daryl’s eyes snapped open, just then noticing the quiet that’d settled over the funeral home. He glanced over at Beth, who remained seated in front of the piano, her kind gaze watching him curiously.

Settling further inside the casket he laid in, the archer turned to stare up at the ceiling, folding one arm behind his head, the other laid out across his stomach. He ignored Beth’s question — not because it wasn’t true, but because he knew if he spoke, if he started talking about her, the hollowness inside his chest would swallow him whole.

“I think she’s still out there,” Beth assured him quietly, steadfast in hanging onto whatever hope she could muster. “I think they all are.”

Daryl grunted softly in response, not trusting his voice.

He wanted to believe that — he wanted nothing more than to believe that Y/N and the others were out there somewhere, somewhere safe. But he wasn’t a foolish man — and he just couldn’t bring himself to feign the kind of certainty that came so effortlessly to Beth.

“‘And whatever you ask in prayer, you will receive, if you have faith’,” she suddenly murmured, her eyes glowing against the candlelight, a bittersweet smile tugging at her lips. “Daddy used ta’ quote scripture — that was one of his favorites,” she explained, her voice growing thick at the mention of her father. She pulled herself together before continuing. “I have faith,” her words were resolute, as though not only trying to convince him but herself as well.

The archer huffed a breath, crossing his arms over his chest. “Got enough for the both a’ us?” he muttered dryly, quirking a brow.

Beth laughed, breaking the heaviness that’d spread. “Sure do,” she beamed before shooting him a meaningful look. “You can thank me later.”

With that, she swiveled around on the bench and faced the piano once more, her fingers dancing along the keys, filling the room with a gentle melody.

Daryl wasn’t a religious man — never had been, never would be.

He didn’t buy into all that bullshit. If there was a God out there…what the fuck was he doing? Where was he? Why didn’t he stop the world from ending? Why did he let the bad destroy the good, time and time again?

He just couldn’t put his faith into something so cruel, so merciless.

Daryl wasn’t a religious man.

But for the first time in his entire life, he closed his eyes and prayed.

The archer felt his throat constrict.

He tilted his head back, looking up at the darkened sky. The sun had melted into the Earth, in its place thousands upon thousands of littered stars, surrounding a glowing crescent-shaped moon.

Maybe he’d been wrong. Maybe there was a God out there — some higher power or greater being — who’d been listening that night in the funeral home.

Because somehow, someway, despite all the odds stacked against him…he’d found her.

Daryl felt his lip split beneath another vicious punch, his head snapping to the side.

He was losing strength, his bruised body slowly giving out on him as two of the Claimers continued to relentlessly beat him. It seemed like no matter how hard he fought back, he just couldn’t get the upper hand.

He was outnumbered and unarmed, but as long as their attention remained on him, he wouldn’t back down — because once they were done with him, they’d move on to the others.

They’d move on to her.

Daryl caught Y/N’s horrified gaze from the other side of the road — she was knelt in front of Tony, who had a fistful of her hair in his grip, simultaneously holding Michonne at gunpoint. Y/N was struggling against his hold, attempting to break free, her features twisted in pain.

A low growl rumbled from deep inside the archer, a red-hot rage coursing through his veins as he fought even harder against the two men.

He managed to dodge another punch, but in the process, connected with a swift jab to the ribcage. He exhaled sharply, losing his breath as the two closed in on him once more — though as the archer braced himself for the next strike, he noticed that the men had suddenly frozen in place.

Daryl followed their stares, finally understanding what had caused the abrupt standstill.

Rick was staggering away from the leader of the Claimers, red staining the bottom half of his face — the archer didn’t even realize it was blood until he saw Joe. The man swayed unsteadily on his feet, eyes wide, mouth agape, as his hands reached for where his throat should’ve been.

Taking advantage of the distraction, Michonne grabbed Tony’s gun and turned it on himself, shooting him once. Daryl followed suit, landing a solid hook against the side of Billy’s face. He heard another gunshot ring out but was too focused on the man at his feet to notice. Without any hesitation, the archer stomped the heel of his boot into the man’s skull, killing him instantly.

He backed away from Billy’s crushed form, stumbling over Harvey’s body, a bullet hole now between his lifeless eyes. He spun around, steadying himself against the hood of the car in front of him as he worked to control his heaving breaths. He’d turned just in time to see Rick mercilessly stabbing Dan, over and over again until the man’s center was nothing but a mess of blood and guts.

And then he saw her.

She was still on her knees, though now hunched over beside Tony, staring silently at his unmoving figure.

Daryl pushed away from the truck and rounded the hood, his heart leaping into his throat as he made a beeline towards her. His footsteps faltered the closer he neared, the sight before him suddenly registering — Tony had been shot through the neck by Michonne, but the front of his skull had also been caved in.

His gaze flickered towards Y/N, just then noticing the blood-soaked boulder clasped tightly in her hand.

It took every ounce of strength to not rush forward, to not pull her into his arms and hold her close because damn it, she was alive, she was okay, she was here.

The archer stepped over Tony’s body, slowly crouching down in front of Y/N — when his approach didn’t stir her, a jolt of unease shot through him. Her vacant eyes were trained on the dead man, her features expressionless and ashen. There was a cut just above her eyebrow, a small trail of blood trickling down the side of her face, but other than that, she appeared relatively unharmed.

Daryl gently took her hand in his and carefully unclasped her fingers from around the rock. He tossed the boulder aside before settling down, kneeling opposite her, his deep blue eyes maintaining a watchful look.

The archer brushed his thumb over the back of her limp hand, squeezing softly a moment later.

And then, almost hesitantly, she squeezed back.

Daryl held his breath as her eyes found his, welling with unshed tears, the helplessness in her haunted gaze twisting his insides. “I never killed someone before,” she whispered suddenly, choking on her words as though speaking shards of glass.

He wasn’t used to seeing her this way — she’d always been so steady, a light others were drawn towards, that he’d been drawn towards. And now…well, now he wished the Claimers would come alive so he could rip them apart all over again.

Unable to stand the sight of her broken expression any longer, Daryl reached for her. “C’mere,” he rasped, slipping his hand behind the back of her head and pulling her forward.

Y/N’s features crumpled as she fell against his chest, a hitched sob catching in her throat. She buried her face into the crook of his neck, gripping onto the front of his vest as though he was the only thing keeping her afloat.

He wrapped his other arm securely around her back, keeping her cradled against his body. “S’ alright,” the archer rumbled as she held on tighter to him, her frame trembling as she cried. “I got ya, Y/N, I got ya.”

Daryl wasn’t sure how long they stayed like that, woven around one another, his pounding heart echoing hers.

But he didn’t mind — because he’d found her.

And nothing else seemed to matter much with her engulfed in his arms.

The weeks that’d followed nearly destroyed them all.

With unrelenting heat, dwindling supplies, and the hollowness of loss inside each of them, morale had been at an all-time low. The little amount of food they’d managed to scrounge up had been divvied into morsels — though not enough to soothe their aches of hunger. The water supply eventually depleted, leaving their throats raw and mouths like cotton as they walked — day after day, down winding road after winding road, searching for salvation that was nowhere to find.

The line that’d separated them from the dead had become alarmingly thin.

And it’d only been a matter of time before that line disappeared altogether.

Daryl roused from his sleep, somehow feeling even more exhausted than when he first closed his eyes.

He scrubbed at his face, wiping away the thin sheen of sweat that’d formed before huffing a breath. The sign of first morning light seeped through the canopy of trees above him, visible through the motionless overgrowth of leaves and greenery. The heat was already suffocating — his clothes stuck uncomfortably to his skin, his throat desperate for water he couldn’t afford to drink.

But focusing on that, focusing on the discomfort, was much easier than acknowledging the looming darkness that lingered.

The archer pushed up onto his elbows, the forest floor digging into his skin. He scanned the makeshift camp his group had set up, positioned just off the main road. Almost everyone was still asleep, curled up on the harsh wooded ground within the permitter they’d barricaded.

Except for Y/N who was nowhere to be seen.

Daryl felt his stomach lurch as he pulled himself off the ground and staggered to his feet, ignoring the wave of dizziness he felt — it’d been days since he’d eaten, since any of them had eaten. He grabbed his crossbow and slung it over his shoulder, tiptoeing around the others as to not wake them — they deserved a few more minutes in a reality that wasn’t as fucked as this one.

The only other person awake was Glenn, who’d volunteered to be on watch. He sat with his back against a large tree trunk, Maggie at his side, her head resting against his shoulder.

Daryl headed towards them, drawing Glenn’s attention. But before he could say anything, Glenn nodded his head towards something on the main road, careful not to jostle Maggie awake.

The archer followed his gaze, spotting Y/N through the trees. He nodded once in silent ‘thanks’, feeling the pit in his stomach loosen as he marched out of the woods and crossed over the asphalt.

Y/N was sitting on the hood of a long-since abandoned car, her feet perched atop the dented front bumper. Her eyes flashed towards him as he approached, prominent dark circles beneath a weary gaze, so unlike the warmth he was used to seeing.

Daryl felt his throat constrict — he could handle his own demons, the heaviness that’d latched onto his bones after the last few weeks.

But hers?

She needed to be okay — he needed her to be okay.

He slid onto the hood, the car dipping below his weight as he settled beside her. A comfortable silence stretched on as they stared down the long and desolate road ahead, each lost in their own thoughts.

“I miss ‘our spot’,” Y/N suddenly murmured, her tone wistful.

Daryl grunted softly in response, the nights they’d spent up in the watchtower flashing through his mind.

He missed it too — he hadn’t known peace like that before.

“God, we had it so good back then,” she exhaled a breath, lowering her head.

The archer peeked over at her, hearing the hint of emotion growing in her words, the sadness she tried to conceal. But she couldn’t hide it — not from him.

He could tell how she was feeling by the steadiness of her breath.

“We still had Hershel…” she whispered, clasping her hands together, her knuckles turning white. “Bob…Tyreese…” her voice cracked slightly before she glanced up. “Beth.”

It was Daryl’s turn to look away.

He couldn’t think about her — not without smelling moonshine and ash, not without feeling the weight of her lifeless body in his arms.

He never got to thank her.

When the prison fell, Daryl had been certain he’d never see Y/N again — that somehow, someway, she’d burned along with it. But Beth…she’d known — she’d known he’d find her again one day.

And he never got to thank her.

“I know you’re in pain,” Y/N’s voice broke through his guilt-ridden thoughts, drawing him back to her. “And I know how easy it is to just shove it down and push it away and pretend like it doesn’t exist,” she looked over at him then, her gaze steady and knowing — and despite the scrutiny, he couldn’t find it in himself to look away. “And I’m not asking you to talk about it. But please, just — just don’t pretend like it’s not there.”

Daryl gnawed on the inside of his cheek, his teeth breaking skin and filling his senses with the metallic taste of blood.

When Y/N reached towards him, he stiffened.

She slowly brushed away the hair that fell in front of his eyes, smoothing the strands back out of his face. “You’re not carved out of stone, Daryl,” she murmured gently before resting her palm against his flushed cheek.

The air suddenly thickened, the archer becoming painfully aware of how little space remained between them. There was a pull — almost magnetic — that urged him to lean closer, to draw nearer, to take her in his arms and shut out the rest of the world.

But before he could give into instinct, he pulled away and hopped off the hood of the car, landing on his feet with a huff.

Daryl looked anywhere but at her, ignoring the slight tremble in his fingertips. “M’ gonna —” he quickly cleared the thickness in his throat. “M’ gonna take a look ‘round — see what I can see.”

Y/N was quiet, though the archer didn’t dare look at her. “Okay,” she finally sounded — and even though Daryl couldn’t see her expression, he could hear the tangible defeat in her tone.

He clenched his jaw, kicking himself for being the source of her disappointment as he beelined towards the woods on the other side of the road, opposite the campsite.

But he’d only taken a couple of steps when he faltered, realizing then that he couldn’t just walk away — he’d never been able to just walk away.

Not from her.

“I hear ya,” he rasped, glancing back at her, the words tumbling from his mouth before he could stop them. “Ya know, what ya were sayin’ before an’ — an’ all that. I jus’ — I hear ya,” he mustered, the jumbled explanation all he could offer.

A tired smile tugged at Y/N’s lips. “I know,” she assured him softly.

Daryl held her gaze before nodding once, turning without another word, and disappearing into the trees.

A newfound determination coursed through the archer as he ventured further into the woods — there had to be something else out there, somewhere his people could call ‘home’. They couldn’t keep going on like this, fighting day-to-day just to survive — it couldn’t be them and the dead anymore.

There had to be something else, something more.

The world couldn’t be all bad.

Not the same world that’d given him her.

Daryl pulled his gaze away from the darkened sky.

His eyes trailed over the towering gates that surrounded Alexandria — sturdy iron sheets and impenetrable steel, the only thing keeping away the dead that roamed just outside them. He brushed his fingers over the ground, tugging at the overgrown blades of grass beneath where he sat as he fell back in thought.

Despite his initial doubt that Alexandria was all it promised to be, in time, the community had proven him wrong. Sure, there were fractures in its foundation, but it was better than nothing.

It was better than before.

And for the first time since the end of everything, there was hope for a future.

Smoke spilled past the archer’s lips, wafting in front of him before disappearing into the night air.

The streets of Alexandria were still — a welcomed change in comparison to life outside the walls. Daryl shifted on the porch steps, taking another drag from his cigarette as he rested his back against the railing. He tilted his head backward, blowing out a lungful of smoke, feeling his nerves calm in the process.

“Hey, stranger,” a voice suddenly called, breaking the quiet that’d stretched on.

Daryl knew that voice — knew it better than the back of his own damn hand.

He quickly shook away the hair that’d fallen in front of his eyes, watching as Y/N approached.

She looked different — her hair was washed, her clothes no longer blood-stained and tattered. The lines of worry that’d marred her features were smoothed away, replaced by a warm smile that only grew the closer she neared. It was strange — almost like getting a glimpse of her before the dead started walking.

Her footsteps slowed as she stopped in front of him, her head cocking slightly to the side. “What’s that look for?”

Daryl ducked his head down, his face feeling fuzzy — like a kid getting caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “Nothin’,” he shook his head, inhaling another drag from his cigarette before stubbing the flame out against the porch steps.

Y/N plopped down beside him, propping her back up against the railing opposite his. “So,” she started, turning her attention towards him. “Deanna was asking where you were tonight.”

The archer scoffed as he flicked the cigarette butt away. “Aaron’s,” he rasped, pulling one knee to his chest, resting his elbow on top of it.

Y/N appeared surprised at his response but didn’t push further. Instead, she exhaled heavily. “This place is like the fucking Twilight Zone.”

He huffed a breath, nodding in agreement. “Ya headin’ back over there?” he rumbled after a moment, jerking his head in the direction of the welcome party.

“Oh, no,” she quickly shook her head. “I’m sick of people,” she admitted before glancing over at him. “You don’t count.”

Daryl snorted a laugh, rolling his eyes despite the strange sort of pride her words brought him.

A beat of silence passed before Y/N spoke again. “Aaron seems like a good guy.”

The archer grunted softly in response, their conversation from earlier coming to mind. “He wants me ta’ start scoutin’ with him — findin’ other survivors, bringin’ ‘em back.”

Y/N’s eyebrows shot up. “Really?”

“Mhm,” Daryl sounded, nestling the side of his thumb between his teeth.

“Is that something you’d wanna do?” she asked, leaning forward a fraction.

He paused, taking a minute to consider her words. If he was being honest, he felt more comfortable outside Alexandria’s walls than inside — and having a good enough reason to be back on the road didn’t seem like such a bad thing. But if he was being really honest…

Daryl’s gaze met Y/N’s once more — he hadn’t been away from her since the prison fell.

That wasn’t exactly a time in his life he’d like to revisit.

“I do alright out there, I guess,” he shrugged a shoulder up, dropping his hand back into his lap.

A look of amusement flashed over her features in response. “That’s quite the understatement.”

The corner of his mouth quirked, but he couldn’t seem to ease the sudden worry gnawing at him. “Ya gonna be alright in here?” he rasped, steadying her with a serious look.

“Shouldn’t I be the one asking you that?” she countered smoothly — but Daryl could hear the hint of something in her tone, something he couldn’t quite place. When he remained silent, Y/N’s expression turned reflective. “I think it’ll be a good thing — you could help a lot of people out there who need it.”

The archer picked up on her deflection. “That ain’t what m’ askin’,” he retorted, calling her bluff.

Y/N looked as though she wanted to argue — but then her lips pressed together, forming a thin line. “I don’t know,” she finally said, avoiding his gaze. “I just — I don’t like being away from you, that’s all,” she admitted quietly, wringing her clasped hands together.

He stilled, never having been more grateful for nightfall — otherwise, she surely would’ve seen the sudden redness creeping over his cheeks.

“But, like I said,” she continued, exhaling a slightly awkward laugh. “It’ll be a good thing.”

He nodded once. “Mhm,” he sounded, not trusting his voice.

Her eyes softened before she began pulling herself up off the porch steps. “Well, I’m gonna get some sleep — see you in the morning?”

The archer cleared his throat. “I’ll see ya,” he rumbled.

A small smile tugged at Y/N’s lips as she headed up the steps, gently squeezing his shoulder as she passed.

He didn’t move a muscle, listening intently for the sound of the front door shutting before closing his eyes, ignoring the tingling sensation beneath where she’d touched him.

Daryl huffed a defeated breath. “Shit.”

Had he given into instinct that night, he would’ve told her the truth.

He would’ve told her that he felt the same way, that being away from her felt like losing half of himself, that nothing in his life had ever made sense until he met her. The words had toyed at the tip of his tongue, desperate to be heard after being swallowed time and time again — but he just hadn’t been able to do it.

He could almost hear Merle’s snide voice in the back of his head — taunting him, calling him ‘whipped’ and a ‘pussy’ and a ‘good-for-nothin’ redneck’, mocking him for even considering that someone like her could feel anything for someone like him.

So instead, he’d reverted back to what he knew best — shutting down and pushing away.

It wasn’t intentional, merely second nature after years and years of repetition.

But the wall he’d worked so hard to build stood no chance.

Not against her.

Daryl knew something was wrong the moment he crossed back through Alexandria’s gates.

And then the screaming started.

He took off into a sprint, his heart mimicking the echo of his footsteps pounding against the asphalt. He could hear Aaron and Morgan just behind, right on his heels, their heavy breathing mirroring his own as the sounds of anguish grew louder.

The archer felt his stomach drop the closer he neared, his mind repeating one, single phrase over and over again —

Just let her be okay.

When he and Aaron had gotten trapped in that car earlier, surrounded by walkers, he’d thought that was it for him. He was going to lead the dead away and give Aaron enough time to make it out, to make it back to Alexandria where he could continue doing what he did best — bringing salvation to those who needed it.

He’d made peace with his decision.

And as he’d grabbed the door handle, moments away from pushing into the raging swarm, he’d only been thinking one thing —

Just let her be okay.

For some reason, he’d been given a second chance and all he wanted was to see her again. It was nearly overwhelming, setting his nerves ablaze, sending his heart racing — it consumed him entirely, the thought of her.

He’d realized then what he should’ve known all along.

He’d never felt for anyone the way he felt for her.

Daryl finally found the others, all gathered in the center of town — but he barely had time to register what was happening when a single gunshot rang out.

Aaron and Morgan stood frozen beside him as they took in the scene — Rick had a gun in hand, the barrel pointed towards the ground, directly above Pete’s now-shattered skull. The crowd looked on in horror, huddled together near a dimly lit fire, eyes wide, mouths agape. Then he saw Reg — his throat sliced open, his body splayed out across Deanna’s lap, Michonne’s bloody katana lying beside him.

“Rick?” Morgan suddenly spoke, breaking the deafening silence that’d followed.

The sound drew Rick’s attention, his vacant eyes finding Morgan’s — but Daryl’s gaze drifted, meeting hers instead.

His stomach dropped when he saw her — she had one hand pressed against her cheek, blood trickling out from between her fingers, her face frozen in disbelief.

Daryl moved towards her, the rest of the world fading away.

Just let her be okay.

Y/N’s expression shifted as he neared, the apprehension that’d marred her features melting, turning into relief despite her ashen complexion and the chaos surrounding them. She absently shook her head back and forth, opening her mouth as if to say something, but no sound came out.

The archer came to a stop in front of her, his own voice lost somewhere deep inside his chest. So instead, he reached for her, very carefully, as though she’d been spun from glass. He wrapped his fingers around her wrist and gently pulled her hand away from her face, revealing a gash that stretched across the entirety of her cheek.

The swell of rage that coursed through him felt red-hot, flushing his skin as he stared at the wound, his eyes glinting dangerously by the light of the fire.

“She caught the nasty end of Petey-boy’s backswing,” came Abraham’s gruff voice.

Daryl hadn’t even realized the man approached — he was too busy thinking up new ways to bring Pete back to life, all so he could shoot the dead prick dead all over again.

Abraham crouched down a few inches beside him, taking a closer look at Y/N’s injury before whistling softly. “Ya must be ridin’ the gravy train with biscuit wheels, lil’ lady. That sack a’ shit damn near took your eye out,” he drawled before glancing over at Daryl. “Don’t think she needs stitches — unless someone wants ta’ reincarnate Dr. Dickwad for a second opinion.”

Y/N attempted to huff a laugh, but the motion had her wincing, her features twisting in pain.

And Daryl had seen enough.

He grunted a gruff ‘I got it’, giving Abraham a nod of appreciation before taking Y/N by the elbow and maneuvering her away from the others, back onto the street.

She allowed him to guide her elsewhere, neither saying a single word.

The two houses Deanna had provided to the group had been split amongst the lot of them. Daryl chose to reside in the finished basement — it was small and dingy, but he didn’t mind. The room had a couch and a bathroom and was much nicer than any other place he’d ever stayed at — even before the end of times.

And right now, it was serving as a makeshift infirmary.

Y/N sat perched on the edge of the couch, her knee bouncing anxiously as she watched Daryl barrel around the space like a rampant tornado. He grabbed whatever he could think of — the first aid kit stored beneath the bathroom sink, a bottle of water, a clean t-shirt to swap out for her blood-spattered one — before making his way back to her. He set the items down on the coffee table in front of the couch and took a seat on the edge of it, opposite her.

Still, neither spoke.

Daryl kept his eyes focused on the slash mark — that was much easier than acknowledging the absence of space between them. He unscrewed the cap to the water bottle, emptying a small amount onto a dry piece of gauze before leaning forward. Ever so slowly, he dabbed at the blood that’d dripped down her face and onto her neck, ignoring the near-palpable tension.

Y/N sat still as a statue, tilting her head back slightly as he wiped away the redness. But when he moved further up, nearing the wound, she flinched, hissing reflexively. Daryl snatched his hand back as if slapped, his eyes meeting hers, quietly apologetic.

She nodded for him to continue, taking a deep breath and balling her hands into fists atop her thighs.

The archer worked his jaw, lightening his touch.

He wasn’t sure how long they sat like that — all he knew was that when he was with her, nothing else really seemed to matter.

Luckily, the wound wasn’t as severe as it’d initially appeared — it was fairly shallow, faint towards the edges, and in time would heal completely. He wanted to tell her so, but the words wouldn’t formulate — the silence that’d stretched on felt untouchable.

So instead, Daryl focused on her hands, wiping away the blood that’d stained the grooves of her skin — and although she tried to conceal it, he could feel the slight tremble in her fingertips.

After he was done cleaning her hands, he sat back, his knee brushing against hers. He glanced up, flicking his hair away and studying the cut on her face — it’d stopped bleeding, though the edges were an angry-red, spiking his own temper once more. The collar of her shirt was soaked crimson, the color more muted in areas that’d already dried.

He hadn’t noticed the way their hands remained intertwined until Y/N squeezed softly, snapping him back to reality.

Daryl pulled his hand from hers and stood, grabbing the extra t-shirt off the table and dropping it into her lap. He scooped up the first aid kit before spinning around and stalking back towards the bathroom, giving her privacy as she began to change.

The archer avoided his reflection entirely, certain he’d see nothing but flushed skin and remorseful eyes. He squatted down, yanking open the drawer beneath the sink and tossing the kit inside. He gnashed his teeth together and grabbed onto the counter, his grip white-knuckled around the edge.

He needed to get a fucking hold of himself, that was for damn sure.

After regaining his composure, Daryl slammed the drawer shut with more force than necessary and pulled himself up in one swift motion.

But his entire body froze, his blood running ice-cold, when he noticed Y/N in the reflection of the bathroom mirror, standing in the doorway behind him.

Their eyes met through the glass before the archer twisted around, facing her head-on.

Her brow was furrowed as she stared at him, her head tilting to the side, the wheels in her mind visibly turning though her expression remained unreadable. She looked like she wanted to say something but didn’t quite know how to say it. She inhaled a breath, opening her mouth, but quickly snapped it shut — and then something different flickered across her features, an expression he hadn’t seen before.

Daryl waited for her to speak, to finally break the prolonged quietness that’d carried on.

But then she was suddenly crossing towards him.

He didn’t realize what was happening until Y/N’s lips crashed against his.

It was as though a dam had broken open — every fleeting feeling, every moment of suppressed longing coming to a head after dancing around one another for so long. At first, Daryl’s entire body went numb, his brain scrambling to figure out just what in the hell was actually happening. His breath caught in his throat as he stiffened instinctually, years of touch deprivation and self-consciousness clawing their way to the surface, leaving him paralyzed against her.

But when Y/N pulled back, breaking away from the kiss, he found himself craving her in the spaces she’d filled.

Her eyes were wide, boring into his, her gaze a mixture of shock and awe that he was certain mirrored his own — like even she couldn’t believe what she’d just done. She clung onto the collar of his shirt, the material balled in her fists.

Daryl’s chest heaved beneath her touch, his breathing syncing up with hers as they stared at one another, their noses only a few inches apart, each soaking the other in for what felt like the first time.

Something inside the archer fractured, right then and there. The wall he’d created inside his mind, the one designed to keep everyone at arm’s length, began to crumble. His guard fell to pieces, brick by brick, shattering at the very foundation he’d built it on.

And in its place…her.

Without any hesitation, Daryl slipped a hand behind Y/N’s neck and surged forward, closing the gap between them and bringing his lips to hers once more.

A soft gasp escaped her at first — one of surprise — the feel of it against his mouth sending a tingle down his spine before she returned the kiss with equal fervor. Her hands slid down his chest, snaking around his middle as she pressed herself against him with similar desperation.

He slid his hand up the back of her head, holding her in place as their lips parted, exploring each other with a deeper intensity. His fingers tangled throughout her hair, desperate to feel her in all of the ways he’d denied himself of, his other hand rising to gently cup the side of her face.

But when Y/N inhaled sharply, suddenly jerking back a fraction, Daryl’s eyes snapped open.

“Ow, fuck,” she hissed, her expression pinched.

“Shit,” the archer rasped, realizing then that his hand had brushed up against the cut on her cheek. “Ya alright?” he rumbled, pulling back further to get a better look.

Y/N let out a breathy laugh, her face lighting up in a way he’d never seen before. “Yeah,” she whispered hoarsely, her cheeks tinged pink, her lips red and slightly swollen.

Once again, Daryl found himself fighting to catch his breath.

He swallowed the thickness in his throat, carefully reaching forward and picking at a strand of hair that’d been swept out of place, tucking it behind her ear instead.

Y/N leaned into his palm, laying her hands against his chest, staring at him like she thought he’d hung the moon and painted the stars.

The look shifted into something deeper as she stepped back, ghosting her fingertips down each of his arms, his skin catching fire beneath her touch. She intertwined her hands around his calloused ones and began inching backward, slowly leading him out of the bathroom without another word.

The archer felt something stir deep inside him, a warmth settling in the pit of his stomach as she guided him towards the couch. He was entranced — like a man who’d been lost at sea for far too long, finally catching a glimpse of salvation from a lighthouse, beckoning him home.

And for the first time in a long time, he wasn’t afraid.

Daryl flushed at the memory.

She still had that same damn effect on him. It didn’t matter how much time passed, how many years went by, he’d never tire of her. She was, without a doubt, the best thing that ever happened to him.

He’d always felt out of place — even before the end. It was like everybody who’d ever lived was somehow born knowing the same song and dance — and yet there he’d been, stumbling along, fighting to catch up and fall in step with the rest of the world. It’d isolated him, made him feel weak and undeserving — like no matter how hard he tried, he’d never truly belong.

And now?

The only comfortable place his mind seemed to know was her.

Daryl fought back a wince, his entire body tensing up.

“Almost done,” Denise murmured as she continued stitching up the laceration on his back.

“Ya said that an hour ago,” the archer grumbled in response, grinding his teeth together.

“It definitely wasn’t an hour and you’re the one who refused the numbing cream, remember?” she countered evenly, her tone unwavering.

The archer merely huffed in response, fighting back a scowl as he gripped tightly onto the edge of the metal table he sat on top of. He ignored the feeling of Denise’s needle digging into his skin, closing up the knife wound he’d received back on the road, surveying the quieted house-turned-infirmary instead.

Rick was in the next room over, not having moved from Carl’s bedside since the survivors had taken Alexandria back from the dead. Glenn and Maggie were huddled together on the cot across the room while Michonne rocked Judith back and forth, exiting the infirmary with her a moment later. The others were gathered outside, recuperating after the long and harrowing fight that’d taken place mere hours ago.

And then there was Y/N — she sat on the floor beside his dangling legs, her head resting against the side of his knee, his vest laid out across her curled form. He could tell by her steady breathing and the way her head lolled every so often that she’d fallen asleep against him.

The entire community was running on little to no sleep, having fought through the night, taking on the herd that’d invaded their home — now, hundreds of bodies littered the streets, the wall that’d collapsed needed to be rebuilt, and those they’d lost during the attack needed to be buried.

Daryl glanced down when he heard a soft sigh, feeling his chest constrict as Y/N nestled closer.

She hadn’t strayed far since he’d returned and honestly, he wasn’t quite ready to be away from her either — especially after what happened on the road. Over the two days he was gone, he’d nearly lost his life on more than one occasion — and from what he'd heard, she’d nearly lost hers when the Wolves attacked.

But they were okay — she was okay — and that was what mattered.

Michonne reentered the infirmary a moment later, the exhaustion on her face mirroring his own. Judith, on the other hand, had fallen asleep in her arms, curled up against her chest, dark blonde wisps of hair sticking to her forehead.

“How’re you holding up?” Michonne asked softly as she approached the table, not wanting to wake Judith — or Y/N, for that matter.

“Jus’ a scratch, is all,” Daryl rumbled in response, peeking over his shoulder at Denise who remained focused on the wound.

Michonne nodded, rubbing small circles against Judith’s back. “I sent everyone home — Rosita and Heath are keeping watch where the wall came down. We’ll clear the dead once everyone gets some rest.”

“Alright,” Daryl rasped, a bone-deep tiredness beginning to seep in.

Before leaving, Michonne paused, looking down at Y/N’s sleeping form. When she glanced back up, her expression had shifted into something softer, something less tense. “She’s good for you,” she suddenly murmured, a small smile tugging at her lips. “You deserve that,” she whispered, reaching out and squeezing his hand, still latched around the edge of the table.

Daryl’s hand flexed beneath hers as he glanced down at the top of Y/N’s head — did he really deserve someone like her?

He’d spend the rest of his life wondering that.

Michonne patted the top of his hand before pulling away, disappearing into Carl’s room without another word, Judith still fast asleep against her.

“Alrighty,” Denise exhaled, drawing him back to the present. “You, my friend, are free to go.”

The archer grunted a gruff ‘thanks’ as she began cleaning up the supplies she’d used to stitch him up. He bit back a grimace as he pulled his shirt over his head, feeling the stitches stretch as he moved.

He reached forward then, gently ruffling the top of Y/N’s head, stirring her awake. She rubbed the sleep from her eyes before craning her neck and looking up, her bleary gaze meeting his. “All done?” she murmured, her voice slightly croaky.

“Mhm,” he sounded, sliding off the table and offering his hand to her.

The corner of her mouth quirked up as she grabbed it, allowing him to pull her to her feet. She swayed, fighting back a yawn, Daryl’s hand finding the small of her back and steadying her. Wordlessly, she held out his vest, which he slowly slipped back on, grinding his teeth together as a sharp jolt of pain shot across his shoulder.

Y/N’s brow furrowed as she watched him, her eyes narrowing — but before she could comment, Denise approached once more.

“Change the gauze in a couple of hours and take two of these for the pain,” she informed, holding out a small bundle of supplies, including fresh bandages and pills. “Doctor’s orders."

But Daryl waved her off. “Save ‘em,” he grumbled, carefully adjusting his vest.

He saw Y/N throw him a glance from the corner of his eye, though she didn’t protest — instead, she stepped forward and held her hand out.

Denise passed the supplies to her before lifting her glasses and rubbing one eye with the back of her hand, her fingertips stained red with blood. “Make sure he doesn’t do anything strenuous for a few days or he’ll tear the stitches,” she continued, speaking solely to Y/N as she set her glasses back in place.

Daryl huffed a breath. “M’ standin’ right here, ya know.”

Y/N nudged him in the ribcage, giving him a look that clearly translated to ‘be nice’.

Denise directed her attention back to the archer. “Don’t tear my stitches,” she reiterated emphatically before her expression eased. “Rest, relax, sleep — both of you.” She shot Y/N a pointed look before shooing them towards the front door, heading over to check in with Glenn and Maggie.

Y/N glanced over at Daryl once they were alone, her eyebrow quirking playfully. “I like this new side of Denise.”

The arched scoffed in response, flicking the hair from his face. “I liked it better when she was scared a’ me,” he grumbled as they fell in step, making their way out of the infirmary and back outside.

A laugh slipped past Y/N’s lips as they crossed over the porch. “Sounds about right,” she grinned, thoroughly amused.

“S’ true,” he shrugged his uninjured shoulder up as they made their way down the stairs and back onto the street.

“You know, you really aren’t that sc—”

Y/N stopped mid-sentence, her footsteps halting abruptly. Daryl faltered as well, glancing back at her, his brow knitting together. Before he could ask what was wrong, he realized what she was looking at.

In the light of day, the aftermath of the attack was startling. There were more bodies than he could count, rotted and decaying, bones torn through skin, blood spilling out onto the street, stark against the asphalt. The carnage was overwhelming, the reality of what they’d accomplished, as well as what they’d almost lost, suddenly settling in.

“We’ll fix this place up — make sure nothin’ like this ever happens again,” Daryl rasped, not entirely certain if he was trying to reassure her or himself.

Y/N’s expression turned solemn. “It’s not the dead I worry about,” she fixed him with a stare, her gaze flickering towards the wound on his back before she continued surveying the damage done to their community.

There wasn’t anything he could say that would make her feel better — not in a world as dark and void and meaningless as the one they lived in.

The only thing he could do was just be there.

Daryl reached for her, slipping his hand around hers and squeezing softly, drawing her back to him.

Although Y/N kept her eyes forward, he felt the tension leave her.

And then she squeezed back.

The archer huffed a breath, nestling the side of his thumb between his teeth.

Well, maybe the world wasn’t entirely meaningless.

Daryl stood still beneath the shower head, warm water washing over his body.

But he couldn’t focus on that — all he could focus on was Y/N, standing behind him, her arms wrapped around his middle, her bare chest pressed against his back. He closed his eyes, committing the feeling to memory — her heart steadily pounding against him, her cheek resting against his shoulder as water continued to cascade down their bodies.

She pulled back slightly, gently pressing her lips against one of the scars on his back.

Daryl felt a chill run down his spine despite the steam around him, fighting back the instinctual urge to stiffen — and as she moved to the next scar and the next, softly kissing each one, he couldn’t help but melt beneath her touch.

He turned then, feeling the tips of his ear redden at the sight of her before he quickly averted his gaze.

Y/N laughed, soft and sweet, reaching towards him and brushing the hair from his face.

Daryl caught her hand with his own, pressing her palm flat against the curve of his jaw. The cut on her cheek had healed, leaving only a faint, thin line below her eye. His own knife wound was still fresh, but in time, would heal as well.

He brought his hand up and gently brushed his thumb across the length of the mark before tilting her head back, bringing his lips to hers.

He wasn’t sure where the sudden boldness came from — still, Y/N returned the kiss, her arms snaking around his neck, his around her waist.

It wasn’t until the water began to run cold that Daryl, begrudgingly, turned the shower off.

They moved about in comfortable silence — drying off, changing into clean clothes, completing eerily normal and mundane tasks that had the archer wondering if he’d somehow transported into an alternate reality without realizing it.

But the blood and muck that’d washed off their bodies and collected at the bottom of the tub reminded him otherwise.

It’d taken three whole days to clear Alexandria of all the walkers that’d infiltrated their walls. Now, they could start rebuilding, reinforcing, doing whatever they needed to do to make sure an attack like that never happened again.

Daryl climbed into the bed he shared with Y/N, having moved up from the basement and into her room after that first night they’d spent together. He winced as he rotated his shoulder — despite Denise’s instructions to limit arduous activity, he’d worked the past three days from sun up to sun down in removing all the bodies from within the gates.

Y/N had tried to get him to take it easy, but he hadn’t — that just wasn’t in his nature.

She crawled into bed after him, sighing softly as she settled by his side, sitting with her legs crossed beneath her. She held her hand out towards him and in her palm, two pills — he recognized them as the ones Denise had given her.

Daryl huffed a breath.

“Don’t make me say ‘please’,” she warned, raising her brow expectantly.

The archer fought back the urge to roll his eyes but took the pills anyway, popping them into his mouth and washing them down with the bottle of water he’d left by the bedside. Y/N shot him a cheeky grin as she laid down, curling onto her side, facing away from him.

He reached over, wrapping an arm around her middle and dragging her towards him, eliciting a surprised laugh from her. She nestled closer, her back pressed against his chest, one hand clasped around his forearm, drawing absent circles against his skin with her thumb.

Daryl felt himself fading, slipping into unconsciousness after a long, tiring day of survival.

But just before the world darkened entirely, a whisper broke through the quiet.

“I love you.”

The archer’s eyes snapped open. Part of him wondered if Y/N was sleep-talking. An even bigger part of him figured he’d imagined it because there was no way — no way in hell — she could’ve consciously and deliberately said that to him.

But then she was shifting, rolling onto her back and looking up at him.

He searched her gaze for something, anything — a punchline, an explanation, a ‘hah, fooled ya!’ — that would explain what in the fuck he’d just heard.

Except that didn’t happen.

Instead, Y/N slowly nodded, like she was finally coming to terms with her own blatantly impromptu confession. “Yeah, I-I do — I —” she fumbled slightly in her admittance before steadying. “I love you,” she murmured, blinking up at him.

Daryl swallowed the lump in his throat, his mind screaming at him to say something instead of just staring at her like he’d seen a ghost. He could feel the words toying at the tip of his tongue — he wanted to say it, he did, because…well, of course. Of course, he wanted to. But it was like his body was physically rejecting a response.

Y/N patiently watched him struggle, giving him a second to get his shit together, a small, knowing smile playing at her lips.

The archer pushed up onto his elbow, clearing his throat, his cheeks burning red. “I, uh,” he grumbled, shaking his head slightly. “Y-Yeah, I —” he faltered, clearly struggling. But when his baffled gaze met her kind one, almost instantly, his wall of insecurity diminished. “Yeah,” the single word came out resolute and sure, everything he needed her to hear.

Y/N’s smile grew, stretching across her face, bright enough to light the sky on fire. “Yeah?” she asked softly, reading between the lines.

Daryl nodded once. “Yeah,” he rasped thickly, like it was the most obvious thing in the world — because it was.

He’d felt that way since the day he met her, even if he hadn’t known it.

She reached up, twisting her fingers in his hair and bringing his face down to meet hers, pressing a gentle kiss against his lips.

Then she was curling onto her other side so they laid chest to chest, her head tucked beneath his chin as she snuggled closer, his arms wrapping around her instinctually.

Daryl wasn’t sure how long they laid like that, limbs weaved around one another like coiled rope. But when her breathing evened out, he pulled back and snuck a glance, tracing every inch of her face as though the first time and the last. He brought his hand to her face, carefully brushing back the hair that’d swept over her features before leaning in and pressing a kiss against her forehead.

Then sleep came for him as well.

Daryl dropped his hand back into his lap, drawing his legs to his chest.

Being with Y/N was effortless — as easy as breathing. It came, somewhat alarmingly, natural to him. He’d never pictured himself with anyone ever. Before the end, before her, he’d been content to sit on the sidelines and watch all the relationships around him undoubtedly burn — it was all he’d ever known, it was all he’d ever seen.

But then she came along and flipped his entire world upside down.

A love that came without warning.

“Let’s get this shit loaded up — looks like it’s gonna rain soon,” Daryl rumbled, peering up at the darkening sky, noticing a cluster of bulbous clouds rolling in.

Y/N tilted her head back, following his gaze before humming a breath. “I don’t know — the wind’s blowing East. It might just miss us,” she remarked, catching the archer’s eye, a mischievous look flashing across her features. “Wanna make a bet?”

Daryl scoffed a breath in response, shutting the car trunk filled with scavenged supplies and adjusting the strap of the rifle slung across his chest — he was still getting used to the weapon. It felt unfamiliar in comparison to the weight of his crossbow. The reminder of his stolen weapon sent a flush of anger through his veins. He’d find those assholes someday and get it back, that was for damn sure.

“Come on,” Y/N grinned, drawing him back as she hefted another box over to him, dropping it onto the ground with a huff. “How about this? If it rains…I’ll take your watch shift tonight with Elizabeth.”

The archer quirked a brow, suddenly intrigued. Elizabeth was one of the original members of Alexandria — and she was…chatty. “Fine,” he nodded, opening the car door and lobbing the box she’d brought over onto the backseat. “She’s always yappin’ ‘bout books an’ shit I don’t know nothin’ ‘bout. Damn irritatin’ sometimes,” he grumbled.

Y/N laughed at his aggravation, turning to pick up another box. “I like her,” she shrugged, making her way towards him.

Daryl huffed a breath, waving her off. “Alright an’ if it doesn’t rain? What’d ya want?” he questioned, taking the box from her hands and sliding it into the car.

Before she had the chance to respond, Rick suddenly appeared, pushing through the front doors of the high school they’d been scavenging — it’d been turned into a FEMA evacuation center right at the beginning of the end. It’d somehow, miraculously, been left untouched — the doors and windows had been barred and chained, but luckily they’d had the tools needed to break in.

It’d been a little over a month since Alexandria had been overrun with the dead — the wall had been rebuilt and fortified, but the survivors had been hesitant to venture outside the gates after what happened the last time. Regardless, supplies were dwindling and a run had to be made.

“How’s it comin’ along out here?” Rick called as he jogged down the front steps and into the parking lot.

“Filled up the trunk pretty good — gonna need another car or two jus’ ta’ fit the rest a’ this shit,” Daryl remarked as the sheriff approached, motioning to the rest of the unpacked boxes lying around.

Rick came to a stop in front of them, one hand resting on top of the handle of his pistol strapped around his waist. “This is good — this is real good,” a rare smile spread across his face, so unlike the usual tension in his features.

“Tara’s finishing up around back — she’s grabbing the rest of the stuff from the greenhouse,” Y/N relayed to Rick, sharing a hopeful look with the archer. “We’ve got enough stuff to last us, I don’t know, at least another couple of months — that’ll be enough time to get some crops growing, maybe even a garden or two.”

Rick huffed a laugh in disbelief, shaking his head. “Who would’a thought,” he mused to himself before taking a breath. “Alright, I’m gonna grab a few last things inside an’ then we’ll lock up — come back tomorrow with a couple a’ cars an’ clean this place out.”

The sheriff left without another word, leaving Daryl and Y/N alone once again.

He began rearranging the boxes in the backseat, making sure there was enough room for two people to sit there on the way back home.

“A date,” Y/N suddenly spoke, catching him off guard.

Daryl straightened, turning back around to look at her, his brow knitting together. “Huh?”

The corner of Y/N’s mouth quirked up as she took a step towards him. “If I win, if it doesn’t rain today…I want you to take me on a date.”

The archer tilted his head to the side, trying to distinguish if she was joking or not. “Ya serious?”

“Yeah,” Y/N nodded, a sort of awkward laugh slipping past her lips. “I know it’s stupid — and given the way you’re looking at me right now, I know you’re thinking the same thing,” she laughed again as he quickly erased the skepticism from his expression. “But that’s —” she shrugged a shoulder up, “— that’s what I want.”

Daryl scratched the side of his head, flicking the hair from his face as he studied her, crossing his arms over his chest as he leaned back against the car. “That really what ya want?”

“Mhm,” she sounded. “And it doesn’t have to be anything special — just us and, I don’t know…maybe Aaron can whip up some of his famous spaghetti,” a soft smile grew on her face as she looked at him. “I, uh — I just — I want to do this right, you know?” her expression turned earnest. “I want those moments with you, Daryl.”

The archer felt a swell of warmth spread throughout him as he looked at her, feeling his resolve give way. “Alright,” he managed to rasp, his throat tight with emotion.

“Alright,” Y/N reiterated with a nod, sticking her hand out, a playful look in her eye.

Daryl snorted a laugh as he reached out and grasped her hand with his own, shaking once to seal the deal.

Y/N shot him a cheeky grin as she pulled from his grip. “We should —”

“Guys?” Tara’s voice suddenly sounded, drawing their attention.

Daryl knew as he pushed off the car, as he turned around that something was very wrong — he could hear it in her tone.

It took a moment for him to fully register the scene before him — a wide-eyed Tara just a few feet away, standing straight as an arrow, holding her hands up near her head.

Then he spotted a man.

The stranger stood just behind Tara, one arm wrapped around her neck, the other holding a gun, the barrel pressed against her temple. He was young, maybe early twenties, though it was hard to tell with all of the blood coating his skin. He peered over Tara’s shoulder, his frantic gaze bouncing wildly back and forth between the archer and Y/N.

Daryl’s protective instinct kicked in as he took a step forward, drawing the man’s attention, keeping Y/N out of his line of fire. His hand automatically reached for the rifle strapped around him but his movements stilled when the man’s eyes widened, his arm tightening around Tara’s neck.

“Hey, take it easy,” Daryl held out his hands in front of him.

“Move,” the man growled, jerking his head to the side. “Away from the car.”

Daryl felt Y/N grab a fistful of material from his shirt, slowly pulling him back as the man moved towards them, keeping Tara in front of him to conceal his body.

A tense standoff of sorts stretched on as they maneuvered around, the man never taking his eyes off of Daryl. When the stranger made it to the driver’s side of the car, he unwound his arm from around Tara’s neck, using it to open the door instead — though his finger remained twitching above the trigger. Once the door was opened, he faltered, realizing he’d lose the coverage of Tara’s body if he tried to get inside.

“Take it,” Y/N suddenly spoke, stepping out from behind Daryl with her hands near her head, drawing the man’s attention.

The archer shot her a sharp glance. “Y/N —”

“Take the car, take the supplies, take whatever you need,” she continued calmly, ignoring Daryl’s growled protest. “Just let her go, okay? No one’s here to hurt you.”

The stranger’s expression shifted, the animalistic look on his face shifting into something that resembled more of a quiet desperation than anything else. “I —“ he shook his head quickly, shifting back and forth. “I just need — I just need to go — I need to go.”

Y/N took another step forward, the side of her arm brushing against Daryl’s. “Okay,” she nodded, exhaling a breath. “That’s okay — just let our friend go and —”

Her sentence was interrupted by the front door of the school swinging open.

Daryl whipped his head around, feeling his stomach drop when he spotted Rick walking out with a stack of boxes — but when the sheriff noticed the standoff happening just down the steps, the boxes came crashing down, falling out of his hands, and instead…he grabbed his pistol.

It was as though everything happened in slow motion.

The stranger’s expression twisted as his sights set in on Rick — he swung the barrel of his gun away from Tara, who instantly dropped to the ground as the man pointed the weapon up the steps, and then…

A barrage of gunfire sounded as Rick and the man began shooting at one another in rapid succession. The sheriff used the front door as a shield, attempting to fire from around the frame, the awkward angle throwing off his aim. The stranger, on the other hand, fired away in no particular direction — his aim was erratic and panicked as he tried using the car door as coverage.

When a bullet flew past the side of Daryl’s head, he dove towards Y/N. He knocked her off her feet and onto the pavement, attempting to take cover from the shootout. The archer flipped onto his back, fumbling for his rifle before finally getting a grip and pointing it at the man.

But before he could take a shot, the stranger threw himself into the car, slamming the door shut, bullets from Rick’s pistol embedding into the metal. He peeled recklessly out of the parking lot, still firing from out of the opened window as he made his getaway.

Despite one of the back tires exploding after getting hit with a stray bullet, the stranger kept driving, disappearing onto the main road and out of sight, leaving a wake of destruction in his path.

“What the fuck?” Tara called from where she’d taken cover.

“Is everybody alright?” Rick yelled back, coming out from behind the door and running down the steps.

Daryl twisted onto his side, looking over at Y/N. “Hey, ya alright?”

“Y-Yeah,” she murmured shakily, pushing up onto her hands and knees. “I’m okay.”

The archer let out a sigh of relief, climbing to his feet and surveying the damage done around them as Rick appeared at his side.

“What an asshole,” Tara swore, coming to a stand as her eyes bounced between Rick, Daryl, and Y/N. “Seriously, what kind of —”

Daryl looked over at her, waiting to hear the rest — but that was when he noticed her staring at something just behind him, the horrified expression on her face filling him with a vast and all-consuming sense of dread.

The archer spun around.

And that was when he saw her.

Y/N stood a few feet away, swaying unsteadily, her hand pressed tightly against the center of her stomach. Her head was lowered, bowed to her chest as she slowly pulled her trembling hand away, revealing a stark redness pooling from her midsection, staining the front of her shirt. She looked up then, her eyes meeting his, the shock in her gaze surely mirroring his own.

“No,” Daryl whispered, the word sounding strangled in his throat as Y/N’s knees suddenly began to give out. “No!” he roared, rushing forward and grabbing onto her before she could collapse.

His arms slipped around her middle before he carefully lowered her onto the ground, her head drooping down against his shoulder. His heart pounded so violently against his ribcage, part of him wondered if it was giving out on him entirely — maybe it was. Maybe this was what dying felt like. Maybe this was what it felt like to have your soul ripped straight out of your body.

Daryl cradled the back of Y/N’s head with one hand as he laid her down flat against the pavement, her eyes wide and unseeing, staring straight up at the sky. “Hey, hey, look a’ me, jus’ look a’ me,” he urged, brushing the hair back from her face, ignoring the blood now staining his hands — her blood.

“I’m okay, I’m okay, I’m okay,” she mumbled, repeating it over and over again as though she could will it to be true — though her skin grew more ashen with each minute that slipped by.

Rick suddenly kneeled on the opposite side of Y/N, taking a piece of cloth and holding it against the wound. “Keep pressure on it,” he instructed Daryl and although he tried to conceal it, the archer could hear the way his voice wavered. “You jus’ hold on, Y/N, understand? We’re gonna get you outta here,” he promised, reaching down and squeezing one of her hands before disappearing.

Daryl watched him leave, dragging a teary-eyed, slack-jawed Tara along with him as they began frantically searching the abandoned parking lot for any working vehicles — it was their only chance at getting her back to Alexandria.

And if they didn’t…

No.

No, he couldn’t go there.

Instead, he pressed the cloth against the gunshot wound, attempting to stall the blood flow, the pressure eliciting a pained whimper from Y/N that almost made the contents of his stomach reappear. “I got ya, Y/N, I got ya,” he rasped, grabbing her limp hand with his own and intertwining their fingers, holding his other hand firmly against her stomach.

His words seemed to bring her back to him, her hollow gaze shifting into one of panic — like she only just realized what was happening. Her features crumpled, a flash of fear skirting across her face as the shock began to wear off. “Am — am I dying?” she managed to choke out, her eyes filling with unshed tears as she looked up at him.

“No,” he shook his head resolutely, feeling moisture build in the corners of his own eyes. “No, ya ain’t goin’ nowhere, ya hear me?” his grip tightened around her hand — like his touch alone could keep her there with him. “We’re gonna get ya back ta’ Alexandria an’ — an’ get ya patched up, good as new, alright? Ya jus’ gotta hang on for me, girl.”

Y/N’s bottom lip quivered as a tear snaked down the side of her face. “I-I don’t want to leave you,” she whispered, a sob hitching in her throat.

“Hey, it’s gonna — ya gonna — jus’ — Rick!” Daryl suddenly bellowed, sitting back on his haunches and desperately scanning the area for any sign of him or Tara. He spotted them at the opposite end of the parking lot, running from car to car, searching for keys or at least a way to jumpstart one of the abandoned vehicles.

But luck was not seeming to be on their side.

Daryl let out a vicious string of curses before focusing back on Y/N. He’d never felt so helpless in his entire life — and God, if he could, he’d take her place in a second.

She was fading — fading so rapidly it made him dizzy. Her skin was cold to the touch, her lips tinged a disturbing shade of blue, her eyes lacking the warmth he was so used to seeing. He felt a swell of emotion rise in his throat, threatening to consume him, but he shoved it down.

“Hey, y-you were right,” she murmured weakly, the corner of her mouth twitching up as she tilted her head to look up at the sky once more. “I think it’s gonna rain.”

Daryl felt a tear spill down his cheek as he followed her eye line, the previously blue sky now blanketed with thick, dark clouds. He huffed a humorless laugh, their conversation from a few minutes earlier ringing through his mind, somehow seeming like an entire lifetime ago. “Guess that means ya — ya gotta take watch tonight, right?” he rasped despondently, keeping his gaze towards the sky.

He stilled when he was met with nothing but a deafening silence.

He felt his stomach roll as he squeezed his eyes shut, afraid of what he'd see if he looked down. “Y/N?” he whispered, his voice hoarse.

When she didn’t respond, Daryl knew.

She was gone.

His girl was gone.

And his entire world came crashing down around him.

Daryl forced his eyes open.

His body went numb at the sight of her, his mind refusing to accept the image before him — empty eyes, grey flesh, blood trickling from the corner of her mouth. Her hand slipped from his grasp then, dropping onto the pavement beside her unmoving form as she continued staring vacantly up at the sky.

His brain couldn’t process what was happening — where he was, what he was doing, why he was there. It felt like a nightmare — a reality that wasn’t quite reality, warped and desolate and consuming him whole. The only tangible thing he felt was a sharp, physical pain in the center of his chest, his breaths short and hitched, causing black spots to dance in his vision.

Over the blood rushing to his ears, he could just barely make out the sound of a car engine, the noise muted and dull as it approached…

But it was too late.

They were too late.

Daryl reached for her hesitantly, hands trembling as he wound his arms beneath her back and carefully scooped her up off the ground, falling back slightly as he pulled her body across his lap. When her head lolled listlessly to the side, he brought his hand up, brushing his bloodstained fingers through her hair before cradling the back of her head, pressing his cheek against hers.

“Ya said —” he squeezed his eyes shut, rocking back and forth as his grip around her lifeless body tightened. “Ya said ya were okay,” he choked out brokenly, his own shock slowly wearing off as something deep inside his soul fractured.

Then he broke.

And the sky opened up and wept alongside him.

The sound of barking drew Daryl back to reality.

He glanced over his shoulder, quickly blinking away the tears that’d formed, spotting Dog trotting towards him. The German Shepard’s tongue hung lazily out of his mouth, his easy pace picking up the closer he neared, letting out another short bark.

Daryl rumbled a laugh as Dog came to a halt at his side, plopping down next to him. “Hey, boy,” he rasped softly, scratching behind his dog’s ear and earning a sloppy lick in return He wiped away the moisture from his cheek as the canine laid down beside him with a huff. “Good, Dog.”

The archer ran his fingers through his sleek fur, feeling his throat tighten. When he’d found the German Shepard a few years back, he’d remembered the conversation with Y/N from back at the prison — and it’d only felt right to name him ‘Dog’.

It’s what she would’ve wanted — and somehow, it made him feel just a little bit closer to her.

“Man, she would’a loved ya,” he whispered thickly, sighing a long and heavy breath.

Daryl looked forward once more, studying the small gravestone in front of him — her gravestone.

For a long time, he stayed away. He hadn't been able to go near where she'd been laid to rest, he just couldn’t — it was too fucking painful, like part of himself had been buried right along with her. But over time, the grief became easier to manage — it never went away, it'd never go away — but he found a way to exist alongside it.

Now, he found a strange sort of peace here.

It’d been years since he’d lost her — she’d been gone for longer than he’d known her. It was hard to keep track of time these days, they seemed to come and go without rhyme or reason. So much had happened since that day — the war against the Saviors, the looming threat of the Whisperers, losing friends, family, Rick…

Time seemed to move differently after losing the people loved most.

After that day at the high school, Daryl had tried to find the man responsible for what happened to Y/N — he’d gone back to the high school, wild and unhinged in his grief, hellbent on retracing their steps and tracking down the stranger. He’d needed revenge, bloodshed, he’d needed the man to know what he’d done, who he’d taken from the world.

Despite the improbability, the archer had no trouble finding him.

The back tire that had been blown out during the exchange of gunfire had sent the car careening down an embankment and into a large tree less than a mile from the school. One of the branches had broken through the windshield and punctured the man’s chest, most likely killing him on impact.

He’d reanimated still strapped in the driver’s seat.

Daryl left him that way.

It wasn’t the ending he’d hoped for, but maybe it was the ending he deserved.

He reached down, absently stroking the top of Dog’s head, and inhaled a deep breath.

Not a single day went by without the thought of her.

She came and went — like a flash of light or the beat of a heart. Daryl had barely had any time to hold onto her before she was gone — and he would’ve held her so much tighter had he known it’d be the last chance he’d have.

Some people were just too bright to stay, too good for what the world had become — at least that’s what he told himself on the really dark days.

The archer closed his eyes, imagining her at his side — sometimes if he sat like that for long enough, he could almost hear her voice, her laugh, he could almost feel her warmth, her touch — and it was like she was still there, sitting right beside him.

It wasn’t the same, but it was enough — at least until he could be with her once more.

Daryl opened his eyes, peering up at the vast night sky, and released the breath he’d been holding.

Someday, he’d find his way home again.

Fin.

A/N: ...hi...how y'all doin'? lol

So yeah, this is a lot to unpack. If you've made it to the very end, THANK YOU! I know this was a super-dee-duper-long oneshot but hopefully (heartbreak and all) it was worth it.

Most of this story was purely self-indulgent - I mean, come on, who doesn't want this kind of love? But aside from that, I also wanted to write a relationship for Daryl that felt authentic and true to his character (*cough cough* definitely not throwing shade at 10.18...nope...not at all...lol)

What also made this story super fun was the fact that I was able to incorporate other characters from over the course of the series! (Even though he's only in it for .2 seconds, Abraham is probably my personal favorite lol I'd never written for him before, and damn, is it fun!)

I also like the little 'twist' at the end when we realize that in the present parts of the story, he's been hanging out at the reader's grave the entire time, reminiscing. Ow, that hurts my heart.

After writing this for months, I was the last person who wanted to see the story end like this. I honestly grew super attached to this relationship and part of me contemplated ending it on more of a 'happy' note...or as 'happy' as you can get with a show like this one. But this was the ending I'd envisioned from the beginning. We got to experience a Daryl x Reader relationship from the very start to the very end. No open-ended questions, no 'what ifs'.

And I think that's sorta beautiful.

P.S. Feedback is incredibly important. I write for my own happiness, but I also write for YOU. So don’t be afraid to shoot me an ask or leave a comment with your thoughts! It truly motivates me and helps move along the writing process. Also, please consider donating to my Tip Jar. Every little bit helps!

P.S.S. I can no longer tag people on this account, so my tag list has been transferred to my side blog @crossbowking2. If you'd like to be added/removed, please let me know!

#the walking dead #the walking dead fanfiction #the walking dead fic #the walking dead daryl #twd #twd fanfiction #twd daryl #twd daryl dixon #daryl x reader #daryl twd #daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #reader insert #crossbowking #norman reedus #honey & whiskey #long reads #oneshot #fanfic #twd fic #twd x reader #twd one shot #daryl one shot #fanfiction #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixion imagine #x reader #the walking dead fandom #the walking dead one shot

[1-800-amortentia]

book club (remus lupin x reader) *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

summary: remus and y/n’s reading time turns into y/n riding him for that first time.

word count: 1.3k

tags: @juniebugg (she wouldn’t leave me alone about this)

genre: smut

warning: dom! remus sub!reader, y/n riding remus lol, pet names, idk slight breed kink? just a nickname, slight degrading and praising ofc

i’m too lazy to proof read. fuck off.

remus glanced down at his girlfriend, watching as her eyes scanned the page of her favorite novel, pride and prejudice. remus had read that book about 15 times, and it made him happy to talk to her about something they both liked. conversations like that were very common in their relationship, considering they both adored reading.

his girlfriend that laid between his legs, her head against the pillow that sat on remus’s torso, remus’ arm rubbed her shoulder as he read his book. of course remus couldn’t help but look down her night dress that cut right at her chest. his hand wandered to her leg, rubbing it softly with his thumb, making her sigh at his touch. his eyes fixed on her chest that rose up and down. up, down, up, down, in a rhythm that drove him mad. his hand moved further into her thigh, making her squirm slightly. remus noticed her nipples harden through the sheer silk fabric, making him shift slightly, as to make sure she didn’t feel him grow hard as his eyes fixated on the top of her nightgown. he was still in his sweater and tie, as he left his dorm he was studying in to go to y/n’s to tell her goodnight.

“ ‘m sorry rem...do you want me to move-“

“no! no....no i’m sorry just got uncomfortable.” he said, his cheeks burning a bit.

“oh....alright.” y/n said quietly, innocently, like she didn’t realize what she was doing to him. driving him mad, that’s what she was doing.

he stared at the rhythm again. up, down, up, down. he turned his attention back to his book, trying to focus again, but ultimately failing miserably. usually he was quiet shy about touching her, even tho once he did he changed into a completely different state of dominance. subconsciously his hand moved up her leg, up her stomach towards her chest. y/n’s chest heaved at the sudden affection, her eyes fixated on his hand as he brought it closer to her face.

“rem?” she asked. remus slowly pulled the book out of her hand, placing her book mark on her page, doing the same for his book.

“what are yo-“

“hush love.” he said, slowly sliding out from under her, pulling himself on top of her. her breathe sharpened.

“james and lily will be back anytime, remus” she whispered.

“dont care. let them see for all i care.” remus mumbled, clinging his mouth beside the straps of the nightgown, the stupid bloody nightgown he’d spent 20 minutes staring at.

“ jus’ want to take this off.” he huffed. y/n reached into his hair, twisting it softly between her fingers.

“go for it.” she replied with a smile. remus didn’t have to be told twice, and within a moment of seconds, his fingers hooked around the straps, slowly dragging them down her skin, sending goosebumps down her arms. his eyes instantly met her breasts, a smile spread across his face as he continued pulling the dress down.

“happy now rem?” y/n asked teasingly.

“not completely.” he replied. y/n frowned.

“how come?” she asked, crossing her arms over her bare chest.

“want to make you feel good too not just me.” remus mumbled.

“no ones stopping you rem.” y/n whispered. remus nodded, connecting their lips gently, standing on his knees while he wrapped her legs around his torso. remus’ hands traced gently up and down her legs, making squirm gently.

“getting needy huh bunny?” remus teased. y/n hummed into his lips in response. her hands wandered to his belt, gently unbuckling it and tossing it to the side. y/n wrapped her arms around remus’ necks hungrily, deepening the kiss as much as she could, remus pulling her into his lap.

“open.” remus demanded, referring to your mouth. y/n did as she was told, remus’ fingers digging themselves into her mouth, making her choke gently before he pulled out his now covered in spit fingers.

“turn ‘round pup” he said sternly. y/n slowly turned on her knees, resting on the edge of the bed.

“sit.” remus said. y/n crawled onto his lap once again, her bear back rubbed against his soft sweater. remus slowly took his spit covered fingers and slid them into y/n’s cunt, making her stomach jult softly, at the sudden penetration. remus dug his face into y/n’s bare neck, y/n moaning quietly, her feet twitching against his knees, as his free arm held her legs keeping her in place.

“remus i...i can’t cum on your uniform” she whimpered.

“why not love? ‘m the only one wearing it.” he said into her ear with a chuckle. her moans become louder as her hand reached for her wand.

“mu-“

“nope. no silence charm. you’re jus’ gonna have to stay quiet, got it?” remus said, pulling his fingers out of cunt, making her whine.

“hey!” she exclaimed. remus smiled at her neediness for him.

“well cmere.” he said as he laid himself down against her soft pillows. she crawled onto him, her feet digging themselves under his legs. remus caressed her arms softly with his arms, admiring her slightly sweaty chest and forehead.

“wanna ride me little one?” remus asked. y/n’s eyes widened.

“i dont....’m not sure of im ready.” she whispered. remus rubbed her cheek gently with his thumb.

“i can help you okay?” remus said gently.

“okay rem” she agreed. remus took his hands to her hips.

“alright, this’ll be fun okay?” remus reassured. she nodded. remus directed her hands to his pants. she quickly took them off, along with his boxers. y/n avoided eye contact with remus nervously.

“don’t worry....you’ll be just fine alright? if it’s too much we’ll stop. i know you can take it love.” remus said with a smile. y/n sunk her teeth into her bottom lip as remus slid into her slowly. y/n hissed quietly at the pressure.

“cmon i’ve been inside you loads of times pup” remus said.

“right. sorry” she apologized. remus shook his head, grabbing her hips.

“just gonna lead you up and down okay?” remus said.

“do whatever you want.” y/n said, feeling a fit of confidence hit her. remus slowly drug her hips up and down once, hearing her moans made him want to pound into her as hard as he could, but considering she’d never been on top before, he figuired they’d take it slow. y/n quickly took over, leading herself up and down his length, making her and remus moan.

“be quiet needy girl” remus mumbled. y/n nodded, feeling her heart rate quicken at the thought of james and lily retiring from their date soon.

“you like this?” remus grunted. y/n whimpered softly.

“kinda like you on top remus.” she moans. remus grins.

“i bet you do little one. love it when i take control over you don’t you?” remus taunts.

“ love it so much remus.” she shrilled, her walls contracting around him as she tries to contain her moans.

“pipe down pet” remus hisses, as he flips them over, taking control again. tears brim y/n’s eyes as her hands and knees dig into the mattress. remus wraps her hair in his hand.

“love it when i fuck you huh?” he taunts. y/n groans quietly, tears streaming down her cheeks as he pounds into her as quickly as his legs could take him. her legs shake profusely as her orgasm surge through her exhausted body.

“m gonna cum rem!” she exclaims.

“go for it doll.” he responds, slapping a hand over her mouth to keep her quiet. his hand trembles slightly, grunts escaping his parted lips as his orgasm follows suit. slowly he pulls himself out of her, his breathing heavy.

“you did good love.” remus says, leading his hands to her face, wiping away her tears.

“crying over me huh?” remus says jokingly. y/n sighs, grabbing her nightgown and slipping it back on.

“yes, always breaking my heart ‘n making me cry.”

“and your back huh?” he taunts. y/n wack his arm, handing him his clothes.

“now take your creepy crime novel and get out of here before lily and james come back.” y/n yawns, pulling herself into her bed. remus pulls his clothes on, walking to y/n and kissing her forehead before walking to his dorm.

#james potter #remus lupin #remus lupin smut #remus lupin imagine #marauders smut #marauders #marauders x reader #harry potter #remus lupin x reader

[lilysdaydreams]

For Them

→ Pairing : Corpse Husband X Fem!Reader

→ Genre : fluff.

→ Warnings : Swearing, Reader panicking a bit.

→ Request : Heya! I was thinking maybe a corpse x reader where the reader is playing among us with him and the gang and they use the proximity mic and he walks past her to hear her singing and she’s kept her singing like a MAJOR secret because she’s shy about it- idk you don’t have to do it if ya don’t feel like it it’s just an idea 💛

→ A/N : Oh my god, did Lily finally finish writing something??? YES SHE DID. Pretty happy with this, so I hope you guys enjoy as well! Sorry for any spelling mistakes :) Requests are open!

~~~

You grabbed the water on the table, moving to the side and out of the camera to quickly take a few sips. You could hear the rest of the group still yelling about the previous game. You laughed quietly hearing Peter and Rae yell at each other.

Looking over at chat you hummed as you took  in the questions.

"How much longer am I streaming?" you read out the question.

"Probably a few more games. Maybe like 30 more minutes. I wanna go get dinner soon." you mumbled as you kept on scanning the chat.

A random question caught your eye.

"Do I sing?" you read out with a laugh.

"Wow, that's such a random question oh my god. Um, I used to want to be a singer when I was a kid," you started leaning back in your chair. You looked at the ceiling reminiscing and chuckled when you remembered the concerts you used to throw for your parents.

"I used to get my parents to be the audience and I would sing all my different songs for them. When they weren't free, I would do it for all of my plushies on my bed. Oh my god, I probably have old videos in the basement or something."

You smiled wistfully, looking back onto the screen.

"Those were good times," you muttered.

Looking back onto chat, your eyes widened at the amount of  "SING FOR US" messages.

"Woah guys, calm down, that was when I was a kid. I don't sing seriously you know that right?" you questioned, laughing at how fast the chat was going.

"Okay okay," you said smiling when they didn't stop. "Lemme ju- Oh wait" you cut yourself off seeing the words "IMPOSTER" light up your screen.

"LETS GOOOOO" you yelled, turning your mic on again for the game. Everyone's voice slowly faded as people went different ways. You  stuck with Lily, both of you going straight to medbay.

"Lilyyyyy" you said dragging her name out.

"Y/N" she said doing the same to you.

You giggled, and asked her if she had med scan.

"Nope, I have the inspecting the sample one."

"Ohh okay," you said getting on the med scan and pretending to scan. You watched as Lily finished her task, saying a quiet "bye" and rushing off to the next task.

You sighed, moving off the scan and starting to walk towards weapons. "Lily's so nice, I'm so glad I got to meet her through this. Like, she's the absolute sweetest I swear, I'm hoping that I get to m-" you got cut off by a body being reported.

"Already?" you asked, others echoing. You gasped when you saw who was killed, immediately whining about how someone could kill Sykunno, while playfully glaring at Sean's name, who was the other imposter.

"Okay, so the body was at reactor," revealed Rae.

"I was in the cafeteria, going towards weapons. Me and Lily were in Medbay before but she left before me," you said leaning back.

Lily confirmed this, also stating that she was in weapons now.

Sean, Corpse and Felix all said they were in Electrical, and Poki said she'd been in storage.

You looked at the chat again, not saying anything while the rest said where they were.

The chat was still spamming "Sing please!" and you looked back to the game without giving an answer. If you were being honest, then what you had said before was a lie. You still sang. Hell, it had been your dream to release your songs ever since you started writing at 15. You had started singing by singing for your parents. Ever since their car crash though, you couldn't even think about  performing for anyone else. If you couldn't even  perform for them, then what was the point? For some reason, whenever you thought of  singing in front of someone, you couldn't even get the words out.

You sighed and skipped voting as the timer ticked down. No one was ejected and you started humming slightly as you moved away from everyone.

"Hmm should I sing you a song everyone?" you asked your voice very low. You breathed deeply reminding yourself that technically no one was in the room with you, and it was only your fans watching, a small community of people who were the sweetest you had ever seen.

Going into reactor and moving down to the very end so that no one could see you, you breathed in deeply and started singing lightly, noticing that the lights were off, the blinking arrow in the corner of your screen.

"I think we could do it if we tried

If only to say you're mine

Sofia, know that you and I

Shouldn't feel like a crime

You know I'll do anything you ask me to

But oh my God, I think I'm in love with you

Standin' here alone now, think that we -"

"Y/N what the fuck your voice is -"

You screamed before the person could even finish what they were saying, hitting the "kill" button without even realising, and letting out a gasp when you saw the black body flop over.

"Oh god, oh my god, what did I do?" you whispered staring at Corpses body, half of your brain freaking out over the fact that he had heard you and the other freaking out what to do. You quickly vented, coming out in electrical and pretending to do the download.

"Oh my god, guys!" you whispered furiously, playfully glaring at the camera. "This is all your fault, do you see what I did, I killed someone with my singing... I just got so scared because he came out of absolutely NOWHERE, oh my god guys." Leaving electrical, you heard someone yelling and headed closer to them laughing nervously when you found Toast and Sean yelling at each other.

"Hey guys," you said voice being unnoticed because of all the yelling and you moved into comms pretending to do a task there.

Just as you did that, Pokis body was found, and you gasped as you realised that Sean had killed three people so now there were 5 left. Toast was dead, which means that he just died, which left Sean, you, Rae, Lily and Leslie.

There was a stunned silence for a second as everyone took in the 4 kills and then Rae immediately  attacked.

"Ahh, the body was in cafeteria. Like bottom cafeteria."

"Um, So I just wanna add something, I was coming from the electrical right, and I was walking to comms, and Toast just passed in the middle of storage. I came into comms and Sean is here as well.

"Yup, shes right, toast just left and she came in." confirmed Sean.

"Well, I saw Leslie at the start of the round, we stuck together and then I was with Poki for a bit."

"Yeah okay, but where were you?"

"Well, I went to weapons then I went down into comms and storage and then I went electrical when lights were called and everyone was ther-" she said cutting herself off and gasping.  “Guess who WASNT there? Y/N wasn’t there!”

“Well yeah, I just thought someone else would do it” you replied. “I was all the way in upper engine and I couldn’t be bothered. You all did lights and I was doing my tasks in reactor and then I went to electrical and then I was waking to comms, and then I saw toast and then I got into comma and saw Sean. Even if I was the imposter and killed Toast, I definitely couldn’t have been able to kill Poki.”

“Yeah no, I still think it’s you,” said Rae after a pause, Leslie and Lily both giggling at her.

Lily chimed in then as well, “Yeah I haven’t seen y/n this whole round at ALLLLL, so I think its her as well."

Ignoring your protests, they all voted you out, and you shrugged at the camera as your character was thrown off the  ship.

"I think I'm okay with that guys, I was way too nervous to still play," you muttered, now looking at the chat.

"Guys," you whined suddenly remembering. "I was only meant to sing for you, I didn't want anyone else to hear it, Corpse literally came out of nowhere. I hope he wasn't deafened by my screeching," you grimaced.

The word "Victory" came onto your screen and you huffed out  a laugh as the lobby exploded with noise.

"Lily! I told you it was Sean!" exclaimed Rae.

"Sean was on a killing spree," you added in, sipping your water. "I only killed like two people cuz I was distracted, I swear he literally carried the whole game.”

“He backstabbed me!” said Sykkuno and you could hear the smile in his voice. “I was doing upload while he was right next to me and we were talking about how great this group was and he just killed me right there!”

Suddenly all the attention was on Sykkuno as everyone started cooing.

“Awww, Sykkuno, did you just compliment us?” Rae yelled, lots of other chiming in to tease Sykunno and him ending up stuttering because he got flustered.

“Alright guys,” you said when everyone quieted down. "I think I'm gonna go now."

"NOOOOO" yelled Rae, everyone else echoing her.

You smiled and quickly said your goodbyes, logging off the game and quickly saying bye to the viewers and ending that as well.

Slumping into your chair, your breath quickened. "Oh my god," you whispered, the realization creeping up on you that you had just sung in front of nearly ten thousand people and that Corpse had heard you sing. You and Corpse had met through Among Us with Toast inviting you to the lobby. You had fun playing with him and you'd both followed each other, but most of your interaction was in games. Like sure you'd messaged each other a few times but those were only brief conversations! and sure, maybe you had a small tiny crush on the guy but like WHO WOULDNT? He was sweet, nice and you related to him a lot. The point was, you were absolutely not ready to sing in front of him. You stood up from the chair and went to the kitchen, pouring yourself a glass of water to calm down.

Your phone rang and you grabbed it from the counter, choking on the water as you saw that it was from Corpse.

He had never called you before. Like you said you simply weren't that close.

Coughing out a "What the fuck?" you answered the call, grabbing onto the counter for support.

"Hey," you said, confused when there was no sound.

"Uh yeah, Hi Y/N. Its Corpse."

"Ah yeah, I see." You facepalmed yourself, rubbing your forehead. What the fucks was wrong with you.

"Um yeah, so uh I just- You know in the game? Um I kind of - well - I kind of heard you singing, um um, that song."

You stilled, not a breath coming out of you.

"Your voice, its -" he paused, letting out a huge breath. "It's absolutely beautiful."

You opened your mouth not even sure what you were gonna say but he continued talking.

"I just, I cant get it out of my mind. Have you heard some of my music?"

"Um yeah, I-I listened to it when I first heard about you. Your songs are so good!" you exclaimed, finally being able to move your mouth

"Do you think maybe we could do a song together sometime? Your voice would be absolutely amazing on one of the tracks I'm currently working on, its a chill one that I have, kind of like Agoraphobic," he asked, rambling through the sentence.

"Um, Oh my god," you muttered, still confused on if this was actually happening. "Yeah, Yeah definitely that would be so cool."

"Oh. Oh that's great, I-I didn't think you'd agree, that's great, I can send you a sample and the lyrics but -"

"Um," you started cutting him off. "If I'm being honest," you muttered, shoulders coming up to your ears. "I'm actually really conscious about my singing. Like this was the absolute first time I ever even sang on stream, so like sorry- I'm ruining it, but this is just a bit overwhelming for me. It's a great opportunity, and if you want I can definitely try but please don't have big expectations of me okay?" you asked biting your lip slightly. "I'm not that great."

There was a second of silence and then he whispered lightly, "Even if you don't believe it, just from those 30 seconds, I could already tell how amazing your voice was."

Your breath caught but a second later he had already moved on.

"If you want to, we could do a few singing sessions together? Just mess around have some fun? That way you can get a bit more comfortable and have some fun," he suggested, voice changing to a shy one that you hadn't ever heard from him.

~~~

"Yeah sure," you agreed, smiling. "Lets try that."

3 months later, you guys finally released your song. Titled "For Them", you sang about your parents who you had loved dearly, and he sang about his parents and their distant relationship. It showed two different perspectives, two different stories, two different lives, and you both loved it so much.

The song was a success, with fans pouring into your channel and small community and well, your life. Most importantly though, along with all of it, came a mask-wearing man, who held you on the days that it was hard for you, and who you held on the nights that were hard for him.

fin.

#corpse #corpse husband #corpse x reader #corpse husband x reader #sykkuno #Corpse husband fics #corpse x y/n #please like and comment #I like validation