#and I haven't been feeling it nearly as bad this time so that's nice. more like a restless dog and less like a caged wolf thirsty for blood.

[neverendingford]

skyglow:

(alternative title: photo dump of a midnight desert run)

[scribefindegil]

been having some really bad curse days again and I ammmmm So scared about the winter.

[wishmkr-jirachi]

...

[sansaorgana]

— LADY OF THE ROSES (III)

PART ONE || PART TWO || PART FOUR

PAIRING — Ser Gwayne Hightower x fem!Reader // Tyrell!OC

SUMMARY — Six moons of marriage have passed and an unexpected visit of Lord Jason Lannister causes Ser Gwayne and the new Lady Hightower to have their very first disagreement. Not long after, she gets pregnant with their first child.

AUTHOR’S NOTE — It’s written as an usual x Reader fic without describing anything about the Reader’s looks but I still classified it as an OC as well since she is a Tyrell. + You don’t have to know the previous chapters to understand this one. I wanted to include Gwayne and Reader having their first child in the previous part already but it was too long and the time skip would be too big so I decided to turn it into yet another chapter of the story. Since the pregnancy and birth would be quite boring, I added some drama with Lord Jason aka Reader's previous suitor from the first chapter (but the details are not required to be known if you haven't read the first part!). There will be one more part to this story for which I am very excited! 😊 Thank you for all the nice comments. 💚

WARNINGS — Lord Jason being himself, pregnancy, birth

WORD COUNT — 6,130

ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.

LADY OF THE ROSES (III)

First six moons of your marriage had passed by quickly and peacefully. You couldn’t believe it was half a year already and you were very pleased with how everything you had been so scared about turned out to be not so bad – performing marital duties was nothing but pleasure and fun, meanwhile running Oldtown could be exhausting sometimes but you still enjoyed it most of the time and you proudly held your head high while helping your husband with all his obligations around the city and the castle.

Having your own property with your own servants to order around was a good feeling, too. Not that you wanted to abuse the power that had been given to you but it was simply nice not to be someone’s daughter but your own Lady. Well, your husband’s – but he had never made you feel like that. Ser Gwayne Hightower was a chivalrous knight who was treating his duties and honour very seriously. He knew that being a husband did not only mean getting but it also meant giving. He was your protector and a shoulder to cry on, a strong hand to hold you and lead you and fight for you. You trusted him with your life and you would never doubt his loyalty to you.

Sometimes you wondered why had gods blessed you with such a good husband as you doubted if you had deserved him. Not that you were a bad person but you had your flaws – your pride, your stubbornness. Yet, you had not fought even once yet with your Lord Husband.

Well, once, nearly. Gwayne had suggested that perhaps you should start wearing more modest clothing because The Highgarden fashion was a bit too revealing for Oldtown. You had scoffed at that and he had not brought that up ever again.

You knew that The Highgarden fashion was considered too exposing for lots of regions of Westeros. Only Dornish women liked even riskier gowns but Oldtown was a part of The Reach so its people were not shocked to see a Tyrell Lady in a revealing dress. You had a feeling it was your Lord Husband’s personal preference because his own sister was known as a woman of strong faith and modesty like her mother before her.

Despite being Lady Hightower now, you still felt a very strong bond with The Tyrells. You always wore a golden ring with a rose on it and you loved all sorts of ornaments and decorations in the shapes of roses. You were corresponding with your Lady Mother and sisters every week and sometimes you were still signing the letters as Lady (Y/N) Tyrell – out of habit that was visibly saddening your husband whenever he’d catch you doing that.

Just like right now as you were sitting by your desk and Gwayne was handing out letters for you to sign them. Those were some official matters that he was supposed to send out to his vassals but ever since he was married and Oldtown had a Lady, he insisted on you both signing them even though it was not a popular custom for husbands to insist on such things.

You didn’t even read those letters since you trusted him as you mindlessly kept signing a letter after a letter. You gave him back the last one and he sighed, which made you look up and raise an eyebrow at him.

“What is it?” You asked.

“Lady (Y/N) Tyrell,” he read out loud and you felt bad at the sight of his sad expression.

“I am sorry,” you reached out to squeeze his wrist. “I was not focused enough,” you admitted.

“I shall rewrite this one,” Gwayne waved the letter in the air.

“No, I shall do it,” you took it from him gently. “Or will it be seen as something inappropriate when they realise it was the wife’s handwriting?”

“No, it won’t be,” Gwayne smiled at you and allowed you to take the letter. “Can I stay here and watch you work?”

“What kind of husband asks such a thing?” You chuckled at him. “Of course, my love,” you leaned into his hand as he caressed your cheek and you placed a soft kiss upon his fingers.

Gwayne sat in the armchair by the window inside your chambers. You would spend some of your days here but all nights so far you had slept with him. However, the chambers he had prepared for you were so beautiful that it would be a waste to never spend your time inside them.

You rewrote the letter and handed it for him to sign and then you could start working on answering the letters that were addressed to you specifically. Gwayne kept sitting in the armchair and looking at you, occasionally staring out of the window. It was peaceful and quiet and you wished that moment could last forever.

The next envelope on the pile of letters made you furrow your brows. It was red and the golden wax seal had The Lannister lion on it. You checked twice if it was really addressed to you and not to your Lord Husband but no, it was very clearly addressed to “Lady (Y/N) Hightower of Oldtown”.

“Weird,” you hummed to yourself when you opened the envelope with a small dagger, without breaking the seal.

“What is it, my darling?” Gwayne turned his head around to look at you since he had been gazing out of the window and staring at the water.

“It is from Lord Jason Lannister and it is addressed to me instead of you,” you told him. It felt quite inappropriate so you wanted your husband to know for you would never hide anything of such a matter from him.

Perhaps you would not be so suspicious about it if you didn’t have a history with Lord Jason. He had been one of your suitors and your father’s favourite. In fact, he had been plotting with your father behind everybody’s back to win the tournament for your hand and he had been playing dirty by using his knight brother to pretend to be him.

“And what does he want?” Gwayne crossed his arms.

“Well, allow me to read the letter first,” you rolled your eyes playfully as you began reading.

Gwayne was trying to be very patient but from the corner of your eye you could see that he was tapping his arms with his fingers and you found it pretty amusing so you read the letter three times before putting it down and taking a deep breath in as you laid your eyes on your husband.

“He wishes to visit us. He claims he was around for his friend’s wedding and he wishes to stay at The Hightower for the night on his way back home,” you explained.

“What friend, I’m wondering?” Gwayne snorted. “Oldtown is never on anyone’s way. It is usually a destination, not a stop.”

“He says his friend is Lord Bulwer, they are our vassals from Blackcrown. He must reach Oldtown to get on the Rose Road. It is a faster way to get back to Casterly Rock than to travel alongside the shore,” you explained because, sadly, Lord Jannister’s excuse sounded very realistic. “Well?” You asked Gwayne. “We must give him an answer.”

“We are not in a state of war with The Lannisters, are we? We shall let him stay for the night,” your husband sighed and stood up to read the letter himself as if he wanted to make sure there was nothing inappropriate in it.

In the meantime, you began working on a reply letter to Lord Jason Lannister. Your husband kept standing behind you and examining every word you were writing down. He had never done that before, even when you had been writing letters of much bigger importance.

“I don’t mind you being in the same room as me while I work but this is a little uncomfortable, my love,” you tried to make him realise calmly when you were about to sign the letter.

“Do not forget your surname this time,” Gwayne reminded you and you furrowed your brows at the tone of his voice. It was not rude but certainly harsher than usual.

“Lady (Y/N) Hightower,” you signed silently, “of House Tyrell,” you added, just to spite Gwayne and you didn’t have to look up to know that he rolled his eyes. However, he did not say anything.

Lord Jason was supposed to come three days later in the evening, right in time for the supper. You wore a green dress for that occasion but you had a rose-shaped jewellery that your husband usually did not mind but on that day he seemed to be bothered by it.

“This jewellery is beautiful, dear wife, but are you sure it goes well with the dress?” He asked during breakfast as you froze.

“Since when are you an expert?” You turned your head around with widened eyes. Well, Gwayne knew quite a lot about fashion but his comment had irritated you.

“Since I am a married man,” he cracked a nervous smile at you.

“Yellow roses always go well with green for those are the Tyrell symbols,” you reminded him with a forced, ironic smile.

“Is this how you wish to greet Lord Jason in Oldtown? As Lady Tyrell?” Gwayne raised an eyebrow at you.

“I have been walking around this city in this very dress and jewellery many times before and you have never said anything!” You protested and Gwayne blushed a bit because he had no idea what else to say.

You went back to eating because you didn’t want to torment him more by pointing out the flaws of his argumentation, however he did not choose silence at all.

“The dress is also quite low-cut,” he mumbled.

“Yes, it is, my beloved Lord, and what about it?” You clenched your fist around the fork you were holding.

“I suspect not many Lord Husbands would want their wives to greet their previous suitors in such a dress,” he commented.

“I have never treated Lord Jason as my suitor,” you scoffed. “And what is wrong with the dress?”

“Nothing,” Gwayne quickly fixed himself. “Nothing is wrong with the dress, my beautiful Lady,” he assured you and went back to eating.

“Are you perhaps jealous of Lord Jason? Do you wish to impress him or show me off as your property?” You asked after the sudden realisation as you laid your eyes on him again.

“Property? No. My wife,” Gwayne clenched his jaw as he explained. “I want to show you off as my Lady Wife.”

“My darling,” you smiled and shook your head as your anger subdued. You leaned in to kiss his cheek. “I would have chosen you as my champion during that tournament even if you were a beggar knight from a peasant family. I would love you even if you were a miller, a carpenter, a fisherman. And no amount of Lannister gold would convince me to go with Lord Jason anywhere,” you assured your husband and fixed his hair gently. “I want to show you off as my Lord Husband in front of him just as much.”

That seemed to calm Gwayne down for now as he nodded with a small smile and even stole a little kiss from your lips. You were alone by the table and the few servants walking around would not scold you for that anyway.

The sun was slowly setting down when you were standing by Gwayne’s side in the courtyard of The Hightower and awaiting Lord Jason Lannister. Your arms were brushing and you kept looking at each other once in a while as if you were giving each other courage. Not that you needed it but Lord Jason was rather insufferable and you knew that losing temper around him would not be good for your relations with The Lannisters. The relations were pretty fragile already anyway.

Finally, you heard the horses and saw a big, elegant carriage with the Lannister lion ornamented on its doors.

“I thought he would travel on a horseback,” Gwayne mumbled.

“Well, he is not a knight. He is used to certain comfort,” you whispered and wore a fake smile that very moment when one of your servants opened the door of the carriage and you saw Lord Jason walking out.

He looked around as if he could not see you nor your husband at first. Then, he faked a smile as well and approached you.

“Lord and Lady Hightower,” he looked you up and down and kissed the palm of your hand when you bowed your head down.

“Lord Lannister,” you greeted him.

“Ser Gwayne,” he nodded at your husband.

“Lord Jason,” Gwayne nodded back. “You must be tired after the journey. Come, the supper is ready and your chambers have been prepared.”

“Thank you. I have never been to The Hightower, I must admit,” Lord Jason followed you inside. He kept looking around like a curious cat.

“How did you get to Blackcrown, my Lord?” You asked him curiously since you and Gwayne had been wondering about it earlier – why was he asking you for a room to stay on his way back only.

“I went there by a ship, Lady Hightower, but the ship was the wedding gift for my friend,” Lord Jason answered and you nodded.

“Your wedding gifts are very generous, my Lord,” Gwayne pointed out.

“Well, I can afford such,” Lord Jason grinned at him as you reached the dining hall. “You must forgive me for not sending one to you, Ser, but in my position of a failed suitor, it would have been pretty humiliating,” he explained and you pretended to understand his point of view.

And it was not like you cared about any gifts from him anyway.

“Please, let us not dwell on the past,” you showed Lord Jason an empty chair by your husband’s side and he took it after you and Gwayne had sat down as well.

“I am not meaning to, my Lady,” Lord Jason informed you proudly. “I am a married man myself now.”

“Oh, are you? Congratulations, my Lord,” you smiled at him even though he had never congratulated you on your union. “To whom?”

“Lady Johanna of House Westerling,” Lord Jason answered and you hummed to yourself.

“Well, she is a lucky Lady,” you tried to be kind.

“Thank you, that is very flattering, Lady Tyrell,” Lord Jason bowed his head and Gwayne shot him a deadly glance. “Oh, do forgive me, Lady Hightower. The colours you are wearing have misled me,” he explained with a grin and you faked a smile but you began to feel guilty for not listening to your husband earlier.

“Green is the colour of House Hightower,” your husband reminded Lord Jason.

“Indeed but the roses…”

“My wife is not forbidden from wearing the emblems of her father’s house,” Gwayne interrupted Lord Jason and it was rude enough to make all of you sit in silence for a moment after that.

“Lord Jason,” you started quickly to change the subject, “why isn’t your Lady Wife with you?”

“It was not recommended in her fragile state. Lady Lannister is expecting,” Lord Jason straightened himself and you could see pride and smugness about him.

“Congratulations, my Lord,” you nodded at him.

“Aren’t you afraid of leaving your pregnant Lady Wife alone for so long when it is no matter of life and death keeping you apart from her, my Lord?” Gwayne asked and you clenched your jaw before kicking him slightly under the table.

“Ser Gwayne, there is nothing in this world women do better than give birth. She does not need my assistance,” Lord Jason found it quite funny, though, as he laughed but he was the only one doing so. “Speaking of, I’ve expected to see Lady Hightower being swollen already. How long has it been now since the wedding? Six moons?”

You froze at his question. It was incredibly rude to be up in other people’s business like that.

You had been discussing the matter of children with Gwayne in the very beginning of your marriage and you both had decided you wanted some time for yourselves before having children and to enjoy each other’s company first. You were regularly drinking teas prepared by The Hightower’s maester to prevent you from getting pregnant and so far it had been working. But if it had failed, you wouldn’t be sad about it either, for you couldn’t wait to have your babes soon anyway.

You exchanged a meaningful look with your husband, not knowing what to say. If you told Lord Jason the truth – that you wanted to wait and enjoy each other’s company – he would only scoff at that and find it hilarious.

“And who has told you that I am not swelling, my Lord?” You answered swiftly before Gwayne opened his mouth.

Lord Jason looked you up and down before humming to himself.

“Well, congratulations, Ser,” he patted Gwayne on his back.

“Thank you,” Gwayne gritted through his teeth and gave you a scolding look. “It is still very early news, though,” he added.

“May the Gods bless Lady Hightower and her offspring,” Lord Jason nodded at you and it somehow felt very sincere.

“Thank you, Lord Jason,” you gave him the very first genuine smile that evening.

The rest of the supper went pretty boringly and you said goodnight to Lord Lannister before the servants took him to his chambers. You and Gwayne went upstairs in awkward silence.

On your way to your husband’s room, you passed the door to your chambers. They were a floor below Gwayne’s chambers that were located at the highest level of The Hightower.

“I shall join you later,” you only mumbled out and he nodded, watching you disappear inside your room.

Your maids were already waiting there to help you into your nighttime attire. You kept sighing and they were exchanging looks.

“How was it, my Lady?” One of them asked. She knew your backstory with Lord Jason because she was one of the girls you had taken with you from The Highgarden.

“Lord Jason is insufferable as always and even though he is married now himself, he finds great enjoyment in tormenting my Lord Husband,” you told her.

“Well, my Lady, I doubt Ser Gwayne is angry at you,” her eyes widened.

“I do not know anymore. I have worn a dress he did not approve of and it indeed caused trouble. I have also said something… Something I should have not said and I have said it to defend his honour but he might not see it this way,” you confessed.

“Ser Gwayne is a very understanding Lord Husband,” the girl assured you and smiled while she brushed your hair.

You kept looking at yourself in the mirror’s reflection but you weren’t sure of her words. That supper had gone worse in the beginning than you had even imagined.

You thanked your maids and they left you alone but you kept sitting in the armchair and staring at yourself and at the candles slowly burning out instead of moving up and joining your husband as you had promised.

For the first time during your marriage, you simply blew out the candles and went inside your own bed. It even felt weird to lay there since you were not used to it but it just felt like the right thing to do on that night.

You couldn’t fall asleep though. And after a while of tossing and turning, you heard the doors open as the wooden floor squeaked under someone’s feet.

“Who is it?” You sat up immediately.

“And who do you think, my Lady?” A familiar voice made you sigh out of relief.

You reached your hand out in the darkness and Gwayne grabbed it as you led him into your bed.

“Why didn’t you bring a candle with you?” You asked.

“I felt a little adventurous,” he chuckled. “And I know my way to you by heart, my beloved Lady,” he added. “Why haven’t you joined me?”

“I thought you didn’t want me to, my Lord,” you admitted when he laid next to you under the cover. You cuddled him immediately by curling up next to him and putting your arm around his waist. “I thought you were cross with me.”

“I am not cross. I simply do not understand why you lied,” he confessed and kissed the top of your head.

“Is it the lie that you’re upset about?” You furrowed your brow. “I do value your honour but…”

“Not the lie itself,” Gwayne interrupted you. “Why didn’t you allow me to inform Lord Jason that we do not wish for children yet?”

“Because he would not understand and find you weak or assume you are unable to produce an heir and it is nothing but an excuse. I wanted to spare you further embarrassments,” you explained. “And… I am sorry for the dress…” You added, looking down.

“Do not be. I am sorry for insisting,” Gwayne rubbed your back. “And thank you for wanting to spare me embarrassments but now we are facing quite a challenge, aren’t we, my love?”

“What do you mean, my Lord?” You looked up, finding his blue eyes in the darkness of your chambers.

“I mean that Lord Jason now believes that you are expecting, my darling,” Gwayne smirked a little and you furrowed your brows.

“Oh no,” you gasped, faking the dramatic aspect of it. “And what shall we do about it now?” You wondered theatrically.

“Well, I have quite a few ideas,” Gwayne leaned in to join your lips together in a kiss as his hands pulled you even closer by your waist.

“Are you sure?” You breathed out between one hasty kiss and another.

“Only if you are,” he assured you.

“I am,” you nodded. “I am, I am, I am…” You kept repeating, suddenly realising how eager you indeed were to have your own little babe before you allowed your husband’s lips to devour yours with yet another passionate kiss.

Thankfully, Lord Jason was supposed to leave Oldtown after breakfast. You greeted him in the morning in another green dress and even though this one was pretty low-cut, too, you decided not to wear any roses on that day. Instead, you wore a necklace with The Hightower that had once belonged to Gwayne’s late Lady Mother.

Lord Jason kept staring at your chest and the necklace until it became a little uncomfortable and he cleared his throat before looking up to meet your cold gaze that you were gracing him with.

“I must admit I have not expected The Hightower to be that grand. It really is as tall as they say,” he bowed his head at you.

“We Light The Way, Lord Lannister,” you reminded him with a forced smile.

“Of course, Casterly Rock remains taller,” he added and you put the cutlery down, irritated. Gwayne gave you a look to remind you to stay polite.

“My Lord, why the remark? Is it a contest?” You asked him, trying not to sound too angry. “It is not the size of the castle that proves manhood. I do believe that you have already shown yours during the tournament for my hand in marriage,” you reminded him of his shameful behaviour and cheating. “The tournament which my husband has won fairly and justly,” you added.

Lord Jason did not say anything. He looked down and went back to eating while his cheeks' colour started to resemble The Lannister emblem.

You squeezed Gwayne’s hand under the table and the rest of the breakfast went pretty smoothly. You went outside to the courtyard to watch Lord Jason ride away. His farewell was pretty short and official. He was not trying to make any jokes anymore.

“My darling, you have acted as if you were a knight and I was a lady in distress,” Gwayne chuckled at you once you were finally free of Lord Lannister.

“Sometimes you are, my Gwayne,” you smiled at him sweetly and leaned in to steal a kiss from his cheek.

“Shall I get you a sword, my sweet?” He teased you and you rolled your eyes at him.

“Perhaps another time, Lord Husband,” you chuckled at that.

Two moons later you were watching Gwayne training with his sword as he was teaching a young squire on the courtyard. The day was quite hot but you had nothing else to do and you loved to watch him train anyway so you were sitting on a wooden bench, trying to remain in the shadow but you felt awful nevertheless. The sun felt too warm, the corset seemed to be too tight no matter how many times you had asked your maids to loosen it and you were hungry but too nauseous to eat. You blamed your condition on the weather and your upcoming monthly bleeding, which was late already but the soreness of your breasts could only mean that it would come very soon.

Gwayne kept looking at you from the corner of his eye with a worried expression because he could see that something was not right – you looked exhausted and your skin was a shade paler than normally. There were bags under your eyes and your voice sounded weak whenever you cheered for him or his squire.

He knew he was most likely overreacting but he was panicking deep inside that you could be seriously ill like his mother had been. The beginnings of each illness looked the same and losing you so fast after marrying you would surely kill him, too.

You were too exhausted to even notice the worried look on his face. You raised your head to shield your face from the sun and you felt a sudden dizziness that made you flutter your eyelids as your head grew heavy before losing consciousness for a short while.

When you opened your eyes again, the very first thing you saw was Gwayne’s furrowed brows and blue eyes filled with worry and fear. His cheeks were so pale that his freckles were more visible than ever and the strands of his auburn hair were tickling your face. His squire was standing behind him with widened eyes.

“Wh-what happened?” You asked and looked around while your vision was slowly coming back.

“You have fainted, my love,” Gwayne swallowed thickly.

“It must be due to the heat,” you tried to explain.

“Mayhaps. But I shall not underestimate your condition,” he picked you up the bridal style, carefully.

“What are you doing, my Lord?” You chuckled weakly at him.

“I am taking you to the maester,” your husband answered with all seriousness.

You didn’t protest because you knew he was worried and to be honest so were you. You only hoped that the maester would confirm that it was nothing serious.

Gwayne’s squire opened the door leading to maester’s chambers in front of you both and The Hightower’s maester stood up to bow his head. He had been sitting by his desk and working on something before you came inside.

“My Lord, My Lady,” he greeted you. “Is everything alright?”

“No, maester. My Lady Wife has fainted,” Gwayne laid you down gently on a bed.

“It is because of the heat!” You protested.

“Mayhaps,” the maester hummed to himself and approached you to examine you with his hands as Gwayne stood above him and watched worryingly. “Have you slept well, my Lady?”

“Oh, I can’t sleep for about two weeks now,” you admitted and yawned a little at the mention.

“I understand. What have you had for breakfast, my Lady?” The maester furrowed his brows.

“I was too nauseous to eat,” you confessed.

“May I ask you when was your last bleeding?” The maester raised an eyebrow.

“It should come any day now for it was more than a moon ago… I am sure it is going to come, though. My breasts are sore,” you lowered your voice a little, feeling uncomfortable with the way he was looking at you and Gwayne’s presence hovering above the both of you.

“May I?” The maester lifted his hands and you opened your mouth to answer but you noticed that he was looking at your husband and not at you.

“I mean, if you must…” Gwayne cleared his throat. “And if the Lady agrees,” he added and only then the maester laid his eyes on you.

“Go on,” you nodded and your heart skipped a beat when he grabbed your breasts gently through the fabric of the dress and squeezed them carefully. You hissed at the feeling.

The maester hummed to himself and moved his hands away before looking up at Gwayne again. Your husband shook his head out of anticipation.

“And?!” He asked.

“Lady Hightower is expecting. Congratulations, my Lord,” the maester informed and you opened your mouth slightly at that revelation.

“I… I am with child?” You inquired and sat up, feeling the sudden outburst of energy.

“I am quite certain of it. Too many symptoms confirming,” the maester nodded. “And when was it that my Lady stopped drinking the tea? Two moons ago, right?”

“That is quite right,” Gwayne answered and took you by your hand. He squeezed your fingers gently and sat on the edge of your bed. He placed a gentle kiss upon the palm of your hand and looked deep into your eyes with such a loving expression that you felt butterflies all over your body even though you had been married for more than half a year now.

The maester walked away and sat back by his desk to give you some space but you completely forgot about his presence anyway for all that mattered was your husband and his child you were apparently carrying under your heart.

“Oh, Gwayne…” You stuttered out as your eyes filled with happy tears. “So it is happening… And to think we have Lord Jason Lannister to thank…”

“My Lady!” Gwayne frowned and chuckled. “Do not say such things. Some people might get ideas…”

“That is true, I guess,” you laughed at his comment. “Are you still certain that you will not mind a daughter if it is a girl?”

“All I care for is your safety. And the child’s. In that exact order,” he answered and you gave him a faint smile.

“Whether they’re a boy or a girl, I just wish for them to be like their father,” you squeezed Gwayne’s hand lovingly. “That is my greatest wish.”

A slight blush covered his cheeks and you smiled at his reaction. It was quite easy to make him flustered with such compliments for he had not been getting many in his childhood. He had been left alone at eight years old, raised by all the septas and maesters of The Hightower alongside older knights teaching him the craft and chivalry. His life had been quite a lonely one but it no longer would be for you would fill the corridors and courtyards with tiny little Hightowers running around.

Your screams could be heard on every floor of The Hightower – a monument taller than The Wall itself – at least that was what your husband had claimed with a chuckle when you nearly crushed his hand while squeezing it tightly. You gave him a deadly look and he lovingly wiped your sweaty face, pushing away all the hair strands that got stuck to your forehead.

You knew that Gwayne was trying to distract you with his jokes here and there but overall he was very worried – perhaps even more than you were since your pain was too overwhelming to focus on anything else. The septas were busy around you, wiping your sweat away, helping you to drink water and telling you when to push as they monitored the birthing process.

You had not expected your Lord Husband to actually be there for you but he had not disappointed you. You had been conflicted at first for you had been told once that wives should not allow their husbands inside during labour. But you were too scared to go through this alone and the pain was much greater than what you had imagined as well. Gwayne’s presence was bringing you great comfort even if sometimes he was annoying you.

The birth had started after breakfast and the sun was slowly going down already but the septas were assuring you that it would not take long from now on. Gwayne had not left your side even for a moment throughout the whole day.

“I did not mean to upset you, my love,” he explained, caressing your hand as if it was the most delicate thing in the world and not a deadly machine that had nearly crushed his hand on several occasions that day. “You are the bravest woman in the Realm to me. In all the Realms of this world, in fact,” he assured you and you just couldn’t be angry at him any longer.

You smiled and wished to tell him something equally sweet when a sharp pain distracted you and you turned your head around while wincing and squeezing your husband’s hand tightly again.

“I can see the head!” One of the septas screamed. “Go, fetch the maester!” She ordered the young girl who was only getting her training but seeing her pale face and terrified expression, you wondered if she regretted her decision to become a septa.

On the other hand, as a septa she would never have to go through what you were going through at the moment.

The girl ran out of the room and you kept taking deep breaths in and pushing like the eldest septa was instructing you. Gwayne kept holding your hand throughout that but seeing his face, he needed the breathing instructions as well.

The maester entered the chambers in a hurry with the scared young septa after him and in that very moment the child’s screams and crying filled the room. The sound was so loud and determined that you immediately knew that there was nothing to worry about for only a healthy and strong child could make such a fuss.

The maester hurried to the newborn baby and Gwayne was trying to see as much as possible through all the septas swarming up around you to clean you up a little and wipe your face from all the sweat.

“It is a boy,” the maester informed and you couldn’t help but sigh with relief.

You knew your Lord Husband could not care less about it but you did care – you loved him and you wanted to give him an heir.

“Is he alright?” Gwayne asked with a raspy voice.

“See for yourself, my Lord. He is a perfectly healthy babe,” the maester approached you two and handed Gwayne his firstborn son. He showed your husband how to hold the little head up and you watched with a loving smile the little bundle of joy staining your husband’s clothes with blood as he was screaming his lungs out.

“He is beautiful,” Gwayne mumbled and moved closer to you as you reached out your weak hands to hold your own babe as well. He placed him gently on your chest but his eyes were fixated on the boy. “Thank you for him, my love.”

“I thank you, my Lord,” you answered but you did not look up at him either since you kept staring at the screaming child. But when he felt your skin and your heartbeat, he stopped crying immediately and just kept staring at you with huge eyes. You chuckled at that and cried happy tears. “How do you want to name him?”

“Lord Edmund Hightower?” Gwayne suggested. It was no surprise to you that he did not propose his father’s name and you liked the sound of Edmund Hightower, so you nodded. You could not care less about the name, you were just glad to have a son and you thought it was only fair for the father to choose his heir’s name anyway.

“I like the sound of that,” you assured your husband as you looked up to meet his gaze.

“So do I,” Gwayne nodded. “And the sight, my Lady,” he added and you felt your cheeks heating up.

Only Gwayne knew how to make you flustered still, after over a year of marriage and right after giving birth to a child, dirty with blood and sweat but to him you were nothing but a victorious warrior that had just survived a battlefield and he admired you now more than ever before.

MASTERLIST

[sanguineterrain]

sunset anew | dick grayson

Summary: You're a little nervous to become the Mrs. Grayson. Luckily, your husband-to-be knows just what to say to soothe your worries. 

Pairing: Dick Grayson x fem!reader 

Word count: 1.7k

Warnings/tags: wedding, anxious reader, the batfam actually gets along, fluff!! (dick is my wife.)

If you like this fic and want to see more, please let me know through reblogs ♡

the divider

Contrary to popular belief, Gotham isn't a complete eyesore. 

Sure, it's no vacation spot, and it's probably not the ideal place to settle down. But there are beautiful parts within the grunge. 

Your wedding planner had shown you multiple locations, from Napa to the Bahamas. Bruce had insisted cost was no problem.

But that wasn't what made you choose Gotham. 

Your forearms rest on the polished stone-top railing that surrounds the rooftop of the nicest hotel in the city. Thirty-two floors, all rented out for you. 

You look down at the tiny cars and people below. Your heart swoops. 

Your heels are in one hand. The sun crests the horizon; soon, yellow will melt into buttery orange and pink. It’s the first sunset you knew. The only sunset you know. And it’s the same one you saw the first time you met your almost-husband.

You'd come up here so you wouldn't miss it. Just this one time.

“Found her!”

You jump as the roof access door opens. Damian and Duke walk out. Duke gives you a warm smile.

"Jesus, you guys," you say, hand on your chest. “Way to scare a girl.”

“Sorry. You look really nice,” Duke says, smoothing his bowtie. 

Damian crosses his arms, clearly unimpressed.

“Frightening you is the least of our concerns. We thought you’d run. Which would be understandable, considering the family you’re marrying into, but Father spent a lot renting the hotel. Plus, Grayson would’ve been inconsolable, and extremely annoying.”

“Dude,” Duke says, elbowing Damian. “Chill out. It’s not like she was actually going to leave him at the altar.” He squints at you. “Were you?”

“No! I wasn’t going to leave him at the altar, oh my God.”

Damian nods. “Good." He taps his watch and speaks into it. "Grayson, our work is done. Come to the roof.”

Duke gives you a wave and they wordlessly leave the way they came. You sigh and start to slip your heels back on. There’s some whispering at the bottom of the stairs, and Damian shouts “no!” before it’s silent. 

You have one heel on when Dick emerges.

He’s unfairly handsome in his tux, hair somehow both neat and tousled. He also has what looks to be Damian’s tie wrapped around his eyes. You step out of your heel, unsure.

"Hey, sweetheart," he says, sounding genuinely apologetic. "Sorry about that. Didn't mean to scare you."

"It’s okay, baby. Why are you blindfolded?"

"Bad luck to see the bride, duh."

You can't help your idiotic grin at that. "I think it'll be fine, Gray. You didn’t have to take his tie.”

"Maybe you haven't met my family; we're not known for our good luck streaks.”

"I'm madly in love with you,” you say, feeling gooey.

Dick beams, and you nearly forget about the sunset altogether. 

"I'm madly in love with you too." 

You kiss him and he blindly returns it, following your lips even after you step back. You cluck your tongue and nudge him away. He obeys, though not without sliding his hand onto your waist and tugging you away from the roof. You follow because he's such a worrier.

Dick reaches for your hand and squeezes. 

"You okay?" he asks.

"Yeah. Sorry I disappeared. I didn’t know the calvary would be sent after me.”

“Yeah, uh…” Dick rubs the back of his neck. “Sorry about that. Again. I got worried.”

The guilt sinks its claws deeper. You frown and touch his cheek. 

“I would never leave you at the altar, Dick.”

“I know! I know that. They’re idiots; don’t listen to ‘em, whatever they said."

You cup his face with both hands and kiss him again. He squeezes your wrists and you can feel the relief rolling off him in waves, as much as he tries to hide it. 

“Was my absence noticeable?” you ask.

"Just to us. Don’t worry about it. The Wayne family are professional crowd entertainers."

"I take it Bruce is doing card tricks?"

"Yep,” Dick says. “He’s pretty good too. Might retire the suit." 

You laugh. "Sorry I'm missing it."

"Trust me, you'll get your fill soon."

“We can go down now,” you offer, even though you’re still waiting for that sunset. 

He shakes his head. “There’s no rush.”

You smile and rest your head on Dick's shoulder. He accepts you instantly and wraps his arm around your waist.

"You feel really beautiful," he says. 

"Charmer."

"I'm serious!"

"I know. That's why I'm so damn sweet on you, Gray."

"I've got a shot with you, then?" he asks. 

"Oh, big time." 

He nuzzles your neck. You breathe in his scent: wine from earlier, detergent, the hair gel he uses to effortlessly capture the bed head look. 

"We didn't have to do this today, you know,” he says, voice vibrating through you. 

You pick your head up in alarm. 

"What're you talking about?" 

"If-if you're getting cold feet, I mean," he adds. "Second thoughts. We can always reschedule."

"Dick, no, I'm not getting second thoughts. I want to marry you today. I will marry you, okay? We've been together for almost four years."

"So? You know how long Batman and Catwoman have been skirting around each other? We've all got a wager going. Including Alfred!"

You snort. "Okay, well, excuse me if I don't want your family to bet on how long it's going to take us to marry."

"Afraid that ship's sailed."

"Of course it has."

You wrap your arms around his neck and pull him in. His arms drape over your hips. You trace the shape of his lips with your index, up his Cupid's bow and up the tip of his nose. Dick has such a lovely nose. You've always thought so. 

“So who bet that I’d actually made a run for it?”

“That feels like a trick question,” he says. 

“Jason?"

“Jason adores you, actually. He didn’t doubt your loyalty once.”

“Damian had his doubts." 

“Damian's thirteen, he doesn’t know shit.”

You snort and kiss his cheek. “Well, I forgive him. He was protecting you, that’s all.”

"If it helps, everyone else was certain of your loyalty," Dick says, letting you paw at his face. “Myself included.”

"That does help, actually.”

Dick stops your hand in its journey and rests your palm on his cheek. 

"What were you thinking about?" he asks quietly. 

You stiffen a little. "Nothing. Just needed some air."

"You sure?" 

You know what he's doing: feeling your pulse to see if it changes, listening to your breathing, watching if your shoulders tense. He's a detective first, and a damn good one. 

You slump in defeat. 

"What if I'm not… good at this? At being… us?”

"What?" Dick asks in disbelief. "What are you talking about? Of course you’ll be good at it. The real worry is me, babe. I mean, you're incredible. I'm the one who runs around in spandex at night." 

"Gray, I'm serious," you say, resting your head on his heart. "All those people who’ve been watching us, waiting for the future Mrs. Grayson to slip up. I just—I can't help but wonder if it's prophetic. I wonder if maybe you deserve more." 

"Hey. Now I can't predict the future. But even if I could, I don't believe there is a timeline out there where I could ever want or need anyone but you. And you're not alone in this, you know? I'm scared too. I'm terrified I'm putting you in danger. Of fucking up completely. But I also know that sometimes… we get good things, you know? It's not all doom and gloom. I mean, you being in my life is proof of that." 

God, he always knows how to make your heart ache just right. 

"I really want us to work," you whisper, clutching his suit coat. "I just don't wanna let you down, Gray." 

"Baby," Dick says, curling around you. "Sweetheart, where did this come from? What makes you think that? You've never let me down, not once. I love you. It's okay if you feel like you don't know what you're doing, 'cause I don't know either." 

You reach to untie the tie. Dick lightly grabs your hand, but you continue to tug anyway. 

"Wait, babe—"

"Dick, it's okay. I want to see your eyes. Please?" 

He lets you pull it off. He squints at the light, adjusting. Then his gaze drops to you and his lips part.

"Wow," Dick says, hands sliding up your arms. 

You smile. "Like it? Selina helped me pick the dress, so it's all thanks to her."

"Fuck, baby. I wanna marry you right now. Screw everyone down there. Let's elope."

You laugh, combing back his hair with your fingertips and tucking loose strands behind his ears. 

"Gray, you know we can't do that. What about Bruce? He'd be devastated and more than rightfully pissed."

He shrugs. "So what? I'm the favorite, I can get away with it."

"Well, what about Alfred? You'd break his heart."

Dick pauses, mulling that over. You kiss his chin. 

"Damn it," he says. "You're right. I couldn't do that to him. He's arguably more excited about our wedding than we are." 

"Mmhm. But I appreciate your attempt to be spontaneously romantic," you say, smiling. 

Dick tugs you closer still, rubbing your back. 

"I would elope," he says. "If you really wanted to. You could convince me to do just about anything. Even if it unleashed Alfie's wrath."

"Don't tell me that," you chide playfully. "You'll give a girl all sorts of notions." 

"Oh, I'm counting on it."

Dick starts to kiss up your neck and you happily let him, eyes slipping closed. It's good, until—

THUMP!

You jump. Dick immediately pushes you behind him. 

The roof access door swings out so hard it slams against the wall. Jason glares, bowtie already loosened. 

"Are you fucking kidding me? You're gonna miss your own wedding, dumbass!" He nods at you. "Hey, future sis. Looking good." 

"Thanks, Todd." 

"Mm. Everything okay?" 

You smile. "Everything's wonderful."

"Yeah, I'm okay too, thanks," Dick says, scowling. 

"I know you're fine, idiot. Now come put a ring on it before Alfred hunts you down himself." 

Jason turns on his heel, shaking his head. "Responsible one, my ass…"

You look at Dick, grinning. 

"Seems like we should go do the marriage thing," you say.

"Seems like." He squeezes your hip. "Do you feel better?"

"Yeah, Gray. I do. Thanks. I love you."

"Love you too, baby. Let's go marry the hell out of each other." 

The sunset has morphed into a violet night. But you don't mind that you missed it; you know there will be countless sunsets to come. 

[mickandmusings]

vi. 'tis the damn season

part of the 'hangman & honey' series!

summary: for the past six months, jake has spent every spare moment attempting to mend communication between he and honey. for months, he uses his phone calls to phone her, leave long voicemails, and writes her multiple letters a week. his efforts come with no avail, she never calls or writes him back. with christmas around the corner, jake makes his way back home to texas, but not before making an important stop along the way.

word count: 6.1k

warnings: 18+ mdni!! (dirty talk, but no explicit descriptions); definite military inaccuracies; definite college inaccuracies; general angst; christmas story in august?

-

'Dear Honey,

I know this is the third or fourth letter this week, and I'm not even sure if you're receiving these, but I can't just not write to you. I left you another voicemail, and I'm not sure if you're listening to those either, but I have talked to you nearly everyday since we were nine, and, well, that's not a habit you break easily. I called you on your birthday last week and left a message, and I sent you a card, I hope you got them both.

Honey, I'm sorry. I'll say it in every voicemail and every letter until you believe me. I shouldn't have taken so long to tell you the truth. I regret it. If I could take it all back, you know I would. I didn't do it to hurt you, I never want to hurt you. But I know I did, and no words I could say or write will change that. I'm sorry. I'll say it over and over again until you understand how much I mean that.

I know you likely don't want to hear about my time here, but I've always told you everything. If you don't want to hear me talk about it, I thought you might read about it. I can't ever remember a time you weren't reading.

Life here is different. Not bad, just...hard. The weather is certainly cooler than the winters back home. We even got snow, true snow, not the shitty kind we get in Haven. It sticks to the ground, and you can actually play in it, not just bust your ass on ice and sleet. Things are always very routine and strict, but, considering it's a week til Christmas break, things are looking up. Honestly, I've never been more ready to go back home to Texas. Granny said she spoke to you about coming home for Christmas, since you missed Thanksgiving? I really hope you'll come around. I miss you, Honey. I haven't heard your voice since that voicemail you sent me in October. Look, you can stay at the other house, I'll set it up for you before you even get here. Or, I'll stay there, and you can have our my room. You don't even have to talk to me, just please come. Just seeing you would be enough.

My bunkmate, Javy, the one I've mentioned to you for the past few months, he's from New Orleans. He's coming home for Christmas, and he's going to drop me off at the airport there. I'll fly back to Austin from there, and Pawpaw will be there to pick me up. Sometimes, at night or when we have spare time, Javy tells me about his life back home in Louisiana. More often than not, it makes me think of you. They make me think of the birthday beignets you make for Pawpaw, and how you'd make us gumbo in the winter. Frankly, everything makes me think of you. Honey, I see you everywhere. There are these bushes outside Bancroft Hall, and they're full of these little white and red flowers. I'm not sure what they're called, but they're pretty, and I know you'd love them. There's a kid in one of my morning classes, and he's got your accent too. It's nice to hear, I haven't heard your voice in so long. I hope the Magnolia State is treating you well. I imagine you're much happier with your favorite flower all around you.

I don't have much else to tell you about. I'd like to tell you my other stories when we're face to face again. I just wanted to let you know I miss you, and I love you, always. Call me back or write to me whenever you get the chance, if you're feeling up to it.

All my love,

Jake'

Honey holds the paper tightly in her hands, letting it crinkle under the pressure of her grasp. If he'd sent this letter when they'd first split, she'd have balled it up or ripped it to pieces with her blinding, white-hot rage. She had been so angry when she'd first moved away, ignoring his incessant phone calls and numerous voicemails. She had let his letters pile up on her desk, unopened and unread. In the chance that he'd sent this letter just a few months later, she would have stained the ink of his letters with her tears. After her anger came a fierce sadness, one that seeped into her bones and left her incapacitated, ridden with the agony that threatened to pull her under like a rogue wave. But now, as she stares down at Jake's scratchy handwriting across the lined paper, she simply feels numb. His letter does not spark an onslaught of tears or suffocating sobs that leave her chest heaving. She simply folds the letter back up and slides it back into its envelope, placing it gently on her desktop, deciding to deal with it later, much like the emotions it evoked.

She knows she shouldn't, but she grabs the familiar orange sweatshirt that lives on her bed and throws it over her head. It comes to her knees and the sleeves are far too long, but it provides her with a comfort she almost wishes it didn't. In her tiny dorm room in Starkville, her small college town (although bigger than Haven,) she feels isolated. Her entire life for the past six months had simply been going-through-the-motions of life: wake up, go to class, come home, study, finish assignments, work a shift at her on-campus job, shower, repeat. Life had become monotonous, something that her life with Jake never was.

She knows she shouldn't wallow. She should try and get out, make more friends-more than just the lady at the circulation desk in the library-and try to enjoy her life at nineteen. But, once again, that gnawing, creeping feeling infiltrates her chest, Honey wasn't like her classmates. She wouldn't enjoy sitting in a bar or attending a frat party. She'd sit in the corner alone, nursing a drink she likely wouldn't finish, and leave with an Irish goodbye. Now, all she had was a sweatshirt that smelled faintly of the boy she once slept next to each night, and it was her only source of comfort.

Honey knows she should get up and call Mrs. Janet, to let her know that she's okay, and that she was settled. The last time she'd spoken to her or Mr. Jacob had been nearly two weeks ago. She should call Haley and Sarah Grace back, both of her hometown friends had been calling since they'd met up for the last time in October. She knows she should stop shutting those who loved her out-Jake included-but that was a different situation entirely.

Instead of doing any of the aforementioned, she simply sinks into her comforter and puts her headphones on, effectively shutting out the rest of the world. She was glad her roommate had left for her own home state, leaving her alone in the dorm room for the next two weeks. Deep down, Honey knew she was lying to herself. She yearned for the feeling of home, her true home, on a farm in Texas. She craved Mrs. Janet's cowboy cookies that she made at least two dozen too many of, and Mr. Jacob's Christmas ham that took hours to get just right, but was so worth it when it practically melted in her mouth. She missed sitting around a room full of the Seresin family, watching the children open new toys and heaps of candy. She'd laugh as they opened new clothes with sour faces, quickly ditching them for the next box in shiny wrapping. Their childlike joy made her own flare, leaving her chest warm as she giggled quietly in Jake's arms. She missed Jake sneaking them eggnog from the kitchen, and the babbling laughter they erupted into when they realized no matter how much older they got, it was always just as disgusting as the first time he'd snuck it when they were thirteen. Mostly, she missed the warm, peaceful feeling she felt when she was in a room full of people she loved most. In a bout of honesty, she admits that maybe, just maybe, she just missed Jake.

Through her headphones, she can hear the rain patter against her window, and she sighs, the weather only adding to her melancholy mood. Honey knew if she chose to rot in bed, her emotions would only grow heavier, so with a deep sigh, she rolls out of bed and slides on her worn sneakers. She takes off Jake's Longhorns hoodie and swaps it for her own, tosses the hood over her head, and grabs the keys to Jake's truck. She grabs her finished library books to return, and her wallet, deciding to wallow in the secluded section of the library instead. She walks out of her dorm room, locks the door, and takes the stairs down to the lobby. She pushes the door open and heads out into the rain.

Honey would never make it to the library that day.

-

Two weeks prior...

"You scribblin' away for that girl again, Seresin?"

Javy's voice fills Jake's ears, and Jake doesn't bother looking up as he shoots his roommate a middle finger salute. Javy laughs at the action before climbing into his top bunk, leaning his head against his pillow. There's silence between the two before Javy's voice cuts through again.

"So when are you gonna tell me about her?"

From the second that Javy had met Jake, it seemed like something was weighing his bunkmate down. It wasn't until a week or so later, when they both were calling home, that Javy learned it wasn't something, it was someone. Jake kept information about his girl on lock, so Javy knew little information: her name was Honey, which Javy found odd, but brushed it off. She was studying English at a college in Mississippi, and Jake had, somehow, royally fucked things up with her before he'd come to the Academy.

Jake sighs, stopping his writing as he looks up at his friend on the top bunk.

"If I tell you, will you shut up for ten minutes so I can write?"

Javy nods, his brown eyes sparkling with a stream of questions he'd been burning to ask.

"Fine, what'dya want to know?"

Javy is quiet for a moment, looking up at the ceiling, as if pondering something.

"What's she like? Wait! No, let me guess! She was a cheerleader, pretty little thing, prom queen, the whole nine-yards to your little All-American thing."

Jake lets out a laugh, thinking of Honey as he shakes his head.

"You couldn't be more wrong. Except the pretty part, she-she's gorgeous."

"Really?" Javy sits up and leans over the metal railing of the bunk. "What? Is she like some metal chick with the eyeliner?"

Javy motions around his eye to emphasize his point.

Jake's eyes widened, continuing to shake his head.

"Definitely not."

"Then what's she like? C'mon man, you gotta give me something! You're always callin' her and writin' her, and I never see you get a response. She got you under Love Potion Number Nine or something? She do the whole magic thing? Can't trust that man."

"No, no, she's not like that. She's-," Jake pauses, trying to find the most accurate words to describe Honey. "She's quiet, shy, she's practically the opposite of me. She likes to read, a lot. I don't think there's ever been a time in our lives when she didn't have a book in her hand. She's kind, never lacking patience when it comes to all of my bullshit. And smart, ridiculously so, she's the smartest person I know. Honey is...witty, and funny, she's got this sarcastic sense of humor that you'd never expect from her. W-We've been friends since we were kids. We started datin' in high school, and we had this fight before I came here, and, obviously, she's still mad about it, so...yeah."

Javy notes the glimmer in Jake's eyes as he talks about his girlfriend, a small smile forming across his lips. Javy hadn't known Jake for more than six months, but this was probably the happiest he'd seen his bunkmate. Javy shrugs, giving his friend another incredulous look.

"So what are you gonna do about it, Seresin?"

Jake's jade eyes look up at him, his letter finished but suddenly forgotten.

"What do you mean? She obviously doesn't want to speak to me. The only time she's spoken to me in six months is when she left me a drunk voicemail on Halloween, saying how I made her cry. What am I supposed to do with that? If she saw me, she'd probably knock my lights out."

Javy shrugs. "But do you love her?"

Jake looks down at his well-kept shoes.

"More than she'll ever know."

"You said she's studying in Starkville? You think she's going back to Texas for Christmas?"

"It's unlikely," Jake responds, his voice somber at the admission. "Why?"

"Well," Javy props back onto his pillow, his hands tucked under his head. "I'm driving back home for Christmas, passin' right through Mississippi. It sounds like if you messed this up, you need to be the one to fix it. Show her you haven't given up, and you want her back. If you surprise her, maybe she'll give you a chance to explain yourself."

Jake's heart hammers in his chest, his friend's plan wasn't entirely bad. Jake looks up at his bunkmate, his face set in a knowing look.

"Honey hates surprises."

"And you hate living without her, which one will be worse: her temporary anger, or never speakin' to her again?"

Jake sighs, he hates that Javy was right. Maybe it was a stupid idea, cancelling his flight back home from Austin, tagging along on a road trip with Javy to get the love of his life back. But, a week later, Jake's duffel was slung into the backseat of Javy's car haphazardly as he rode shotgun, giving his friend directions toward a small Mississippi town.

-

Now, Honey makes her way across the rainy parking lot. Through her blurry eyesight, she quickly finds Jake's truck in the nearly empty parking lot. She fishes the key from the bundle of keys in her hand, sliding it into the key slot on the door and unlocking the door. Before she could remove the key and pop open the door, Honey hears a voice call out her name. She pauses, and for a split second, she thinks she hears Jake's voice. She shakes her head, pulling at the driver's side door. It was often shut too hard, and she had to pull with a good portion of her strength to get it to open. As she tugs on the handle, she hears it again, her name in Jake's voice. She tugs harder, thinking she was finally losing her mind.

"Honey, wait!"

The footsteps behind her alert her that the voice she had been hearing likely wasn't just a hallucination. She turns abruptly, and her heart stops in her chest. There, standing before her in a rain-soaked Navy sweatshirt and jeans, his significantly shorter blonde locks plastered against his forehead, was one Jake Seresin. Honey's eyes widened in shock, the breath in her chest growing short and ragged. She pulls her books closer to her chest, an action of both shock and keeping them as dry as possible. Her eyes dart back and forth between his own. She's quiet for a moment, rendered completely speechless.

"Jake?!" Her eyebrows furrowed. "What the hell are you doing here?! You-You're supposed to be on a plane to Austin right now!"

Jake stands in front of her, motionless, as his eyes take her in completely. It had been so long since he'd seen her, and he simply wanted to peer at her forever. She hadn't changed much, she was still shorter than him in stature, still an avid reader by the small pile of books she'd finally tossed onto the truck seat, but her eyes didn't quite shine like they once had. Jake's heart hammered in his chest, staring at the girl he loved standing in front of him in the pouring rain, arms crossed over her chest, shivering in the cold.

"Jake, hey?!" She waves her hand in front of his face, attempting to gain his attention. "What are you doing here?!"

Honey's voice is loud enough to hear over the rain pelting around them both. Her eyes are wide as he looks down at her, his hands itch to touch her, but he keeps them at his side. He takes another look into her eyes, and he simply loses every ounce of control he has. He takes a step forward towards her, his hands come to rest on either side of her face. Honey wants to knock his hands away, she wants to let her anger simmer forever, but the warmth of his calloused touch provides her with a comfort she hadn't felt in so long. If it had not been raining so fiercely, both halves of the pair would realize the tears running down one another's face. He's silent for a long moment, simply taking in her face for the first time in months.

"Honey, I-I fucked up," Jake starts, his voice trembling with a flurry of emotions. "Honey, I fucked up so, so bad."

He pauses, allowing the rain to soak through both their clothes, his thumb brushing carefully against her cheek. His bottom lip trembles, his hands beginning to shake against her face. Honey says nothing, only braving a look into his green eyes darkening with tears.

"I-I've apologized a thousand times over the past six months and it's not enough. It'll never be enough, because knowin' I hurt you?" He pauses and shakes his head with his lips pressed into a fine line, effectively keeping him from bursting into sobs. "Honey, that shit has ripped me to shreds everyday since you left. I-I never meant to hurt you, ever. I'll spend the rest of my life apologizin' to you if that's what you want." His eyes bore into her own, his breaths shaky.

"I'll spend the rest of my life on hands and knees, grovelin' if that's what you want. A-And if you tell me to fuck off and never speak to you again, I-I'll do it. Just-just know that all of me-body, heart, soul, everything I am-it belongs to you. If you've decided that you're movin' on, and you want to do everythin' we planned with someone else, I won't try to stop it. But, you have to know somethin', and I need you to understand that it doesn't matter if you move to Canada, o-or you stay here, or you move back to Haven, my heart forever sits in your hands. It's yours, forever, whether I have yours or not. That house on my grandparent's farm? I fixed it for you, it's yours. This truck? It's yours, take it. Honey, you can have whatever you want, I'll buy you whatever you want, I'll make it if I can't buy it. Tell me what you want, and I'll make it happen. Whatever it is, baby, it's yours."

His chest moves quickly with his rapid breaths, his hands shaking from his contained emotions. Honey simply looks at him, still a bit shocked that he's standing in front of her. If she wasn't overwhelmed by the landslide of apologies he'd just spouted, she'd have given him her own back. Instead, she stands a bit still, her chest just as heavy as his. He mistakes her silence as rejection, and his face falls as he gives a subtle nod of his head. His hands move from her face, and, in that split second, Honey is shocked into action. She wouldn't lose him again, she couldn't lose him again. In one quick swoop, she grabs the wrists of his sweatshirt, pulling his attention back to her. She speaks a tad louder than her normal tone, ensuring he would hear her over the pelting rain.

"You, all I want is you. That-That's all I've ever wanted, Jake!"

He catches a glimpse of her face, her cheeks pink as she shivers, but her eyes, they were the same love-filled gaze he'd remembered. He wanted to begin another string of apologies, to assure her that he meant everything he said, but he never got the chance. In an action almost completely out of nature for the shy girl he knew, her arms were around his neck, pulling his lips towards hers in a heated passion. He wasted no time in indulging in the action, his hands coming to her hips, lifting her a bit higher to deepen the kiss. The sweet kiss quickly turns to a clash of teeth and heated movements, and Jake quickly hoists her up, her legs wrapping around his waist as if it were muscle memory.

From his car across the lot, Javy shakes his head and smiles as the two embrace one another. He cranks his car back up, backs out of the parking spot and turns back onto the main road. He shakes his head as he thinks of his friend, mumbling to himself as he drives:

"Tis the damn season, Seresin, you lucky dog."

Back at the school, it only takes a split second for the couple's kiss to grow a bit too intense for the parking lot setting, and, without thinking, Jake pulls her through the lobby's double doors and into the elevator, where the two finally break apart for a split second.

"J-Jake, I-I never should've left like that, I-,"

She doesn't get to finish, Jake's lips are back on hers, this time with more fervor than before. Honey shudders, with both the cold from her wet clothes and the heat building in her torso. They break apart as the elevator dings, and Honey is pulling Jake by the hand back to her dorm. She all but shoves him inside, locking the door behind her. Jake wastes no time in crossing back to her, slowly pulling off the hood of her hoodie, his eyes widening when he glances at her mostly dry hair.

"Y-Your hair, it's...shorter."

She chuckles. "Yeah, I just needed a change...you're one to talk, J, I've never seen your hair that short."

He pulls her in closer by her hips, lifting the soaked hoodie over her head as he speaks.

"Yeah, well, plebe summer wasn't my best look, you're just lucky you missed me bald, baby."

Even in the dim light of the dorm room, Jake notes the darkening look of her gaze, her lids growing heavier with desire. Honey's hand comes to the short hair growing on the nape of his neck, her head cocking to the side as she threads her fingers through the new growth, a look on her face he can't quite place. He pulls her flush against him, attempting to read her look.

"Hm, yeah," she starts. "I'm real glad I missed that part. Y'know, why?"

The girl below him moves to kiss the underside of his jaw, making his hands tighten on the grip he has on her hips.

"Why's that, baby?"

Honey's lips move to his neck, his hands slipping past her hips and to the round of her bottom. Above all else, Jake Seresin had been raised to be a Southern gentleman, but his resolve was slipping.

"Because," Honey starts, her accent slipping through, causing the heat in Jake's lower half to grow unbearable as her lips continue their course down his skin. "I like havin' somethin' to hold onto when you're between my thighs."

Long gone was Honey's shy demeanor, and long gone was Jake's gentlemanly resolution. Without a word, he's tossing his own damp sweatshirt over his head and throwing it to the floor with her own. Honey has ditched her drenched shirt and sweatpants, now standing nearly bare between Jake's arms. Without a second of hesitation, Jake pulls her onto the ridiculously small bed, but he pays it no mind, more focused on the grinning girl beneath him. He kisses her lips passionately, his hands resting on her bare thighs. His own heart hammers, and, as he kisses down Honey's neck, he can feel her own beating just as loudly. He pulls away, tossing off his damp jeans to the floor. He looks down at her almost bare frame, his emerald eys heavy with lust, but his voice is cased in affection.

"If this is what you want, that's certainly fine with me, but I need to hear you say it, baby."

Honey looks up at Jake's kind but intense gaze, her heart slowing a bit.

"After that whole The Notebook-esque apology you pulled, yes, I want this."

She nods in confirmation, and Jake wastes no time in attaching his lips back to hers. Honey's hands fly back to his hair, her fingers digging into his locks. Jake's hands come to her torso, carefully sliding off the clothing constricting her chest and tossing it onto the floor. He pauses for a brief moment, staring down as he hovers over her. Honey looks up at him, her head cocking to the side.

"Jake? Hey, what's the matter?"

Jake's mind is in overdrive, and he simply feels the urge to stop and stare at her. She's bare before him, cheeks flushed, eyes blazing with affection. Jake swallows thickly as he pushes hair out of her face.

"Honey, you-you're beautiful. I am the luckiest man on fuckin' Earth, baby."

Honey blushes at his compliment, pulling him back in with a heated kiss.

"You're such a smooth talker, Seresin...but right now, I need you to use that mouth of yours for somethin' other than talkin'."

Jake grins from ear to ear, the usual smirk she's used to seeing painted across his face. His thumb brushes against the fabric adorning her hip, gently pushing it down. He tosses them to the floor along with the other clothes they'd shed, and nudges his way in between her legs. Heat fills the space between them completely as he speaks:

"Yes ma'am."

-

Hours later, in the late hours of the night, Honey is woken by the vibrating of something nearby. Jake-who has her pressed into his chest with the strength of a bear-doesn't budge. Honey, ever the light sleeper, groans, lightly tapping Jake's shoulders. His body moves, but he simply curls back into their shared pillow. She shoves him again, a little harder this time as she speaks.

"Jake," Her words receive no response, so she speaks again. "Jake!"

It's Jake's turn to groan, his arms pulling her closer to his bare chest.

"Hm? What is it, baby?"

Honey's lack-of-sleep induced annoyance fades at the nickname she so adores.

"Your phone is ringing."

Jake groans again, slipping out from under the blush pink sheets and searching for his phone that he assumed was still lodged into his jean pocket. Honey opts to glance at his newly toned arms and strong, broad shoulders, his time training in Maryland obviously having physical gain. He hits the button on the screen, not bothering to look at the caller ID, and speaks:

"Hello?"

"Jacob Thomas! Where the hell are you?!" His grandfather's voice fills his ears, and Jake pales. Shit. He had completely forgotten to tell his grandparents about his detour. "I've been sitting at the airport for three hours, son!"

"Pawpaw, I-I'm sorry, Javy just decided to take me all the way back to-" He's cut off abruptly.

"Look, that's fine, but you could've called. Your grandmother's callin' and she's pissed, son. Just get home, alright? Preferably sometime before Christmas Eve? She's already distraught about Honey not comin' around, so, the sooner the better. Heard?"

"Loud and clear."

"Alright, well, I love you, kid. Be careful."

"Love you too."

Jake hangs up the phone, crawling back into Honey's sheets and pulling her back into his arms. Honey's nose burrows into the crook of his neck, Jake's warm skin against her own far warmer than any blanket she owned. Jake's hand ghosted against her side, the other threading through her hair. His voice is low and soft as he speaks:

"How do you feel about Christmas in Texas?"

Honey's eyes open, looking up at her boyfriend with a shy smile, completely retreating back into her usual quiet self, a stark difference from the heated confidence that had run through her only hours before. Her eyes glimmered in the moonlight, a wide grin on her face as she buries herself back into his neck, his toned arms pulling her in tightly.

"I don't know if they'd even want me there, I should've called Mrs. Janet back, haven't responded in like two weeks."

Jake scoffs, pushing back a hair from her face.

"Don't even think like that. They're gonna be more excited to see you than me."

"Guess we'll find out." Honey pushes up from her spot next to Jake, sliding out of bed and slipping on new clothes before packing a small bag for the road. Jake watches from the bed, a smile across his face. He rests his hands behind his head, his blonde locks tossed about from their rendezvous. Honey turns to him once she's dressed.

"Are you gonna show up like that? Not that I mind this look, but your grandmother might have some issues with it." She laughs lightly, tossing him his now dry shirt. "You might want to get dressed, babe."

Honey stills and grows red when the nickname falls from her lips without any thought. She turns to Jake, his eyebrow furrowed humorously at the nickname, his right pointer finger beckons her closer. She stands next to him beside the bed, his hand pulling her in by the waist.

"Where did that come from?"

"I-I don't know," she admits bashfully. "B-But if you don't like it-"

"Baby, I more than liked it."

He pulls her closer, plopping her back into the sheets with him. She practically rests completely atop him. His hands move to pull up her shirt, his hands resting on her now bare waist. She makes note of his gaze darkening as he looks down at her, his arousal evident against her leg.

"Jake," her voice is a whisper. "We should really get on the road."

Jake smirks, his lips now kissing the sweet spot behind her ear.

"I'll get up as soon as you do."

Unable to resist one another, they were nearly another two hours before they got back on the road. After those hours and a ridiculously long drive back home to Haven, Honey now rested comfortably in the passenger side of Jake's her truck, Jake's thumb rubbing against her thigh. Both of them were incredibly tired from the prolonged trip, and more than ready to collapse into his childhood bed they'd shared for years. As Jake turned onto Seresin Farm Road, Honey felt her nerves kick in. Despite her excitement to return to the home that had nurtured her, she worried that she was going to be a burden for Janet and Jacob. She hadn't told either of them that she'd be coming home, and Jake hadn't either. She slid closer in the seat to Jake, her head resting on his arm. He looks down at her as they pass one of the many fields on the property.

"You alright, baby? You're lookin' a little out of it."

"M'fine, just nervous."

Jake's eyes cut down at her. "Nervous?"

"It's stupid, I know. I just, didn't tell anyone I was coming, and I don't want to be a burden to your grandparents."

"Honey, you're family. You don't have to let us know you're comin'."

Honey smiles, her nerves fading as the house comes into view. Jake parks the truck, the backwards baseball cap over his head covering his short, blonde locks completely. He cuts her a sly grin, a look of mischief drawn across his face.

"Want to really surprise them?"

Honey cocks her head, puzzled. Jake simply kisses her cheek and hops out of the truck, moving to open the door on her side. He comes to the front door, opening it and promptly hiding Honey behind his taller frame. He comes to the entrance of the kitchen, raising his finger to his lips as he leaves her only a few feet away in the foyer. She can hear his boots against the hardwood as he walks.

"Hey," he speaks simply, both Janet and Jacob Sr.'s eyes cutting to their grandson standing in their doorway.

"Jacob! You scared the devil outta me! Get over here!" Janet shuffles the towering young man into a hug after lightly chastising him.

"Sorry I'm late," Jake's voice is muffled against his grandmother's neck. "Had to make a detour and pick up a little surprise for you."

His grandmother pulls away, her eyebrows furrowed as she gives the blonde a questioning look. "Surprise?"

Jake sends her a blinding smile. He pokes his head around the corner, beckoning Honey forward with his pointer finger. Honey shakes her head as she approaches, and Jake slings his arm around her shoulder.

"Hi," Honey speaks quietly. Janet and Jacob Sr. both turn, smiles painting across their faces.

"Honey! Oh my, sweet girl, you did surprise us!" Janet's voice is bubbly as she shuffles over to her grandson's girlfriend, pulling her into a tight hug. "Oh! And look at that hair, it's just darlin' on you!"

Honey feels her heart hammer, and she has to swallow down her tears as the older woman embraces her. Jake's grandfather follows suit, and Honey can no longer stop the tears rolling down her face. Janet wipes them away with the back of her hand.

"You alright there, Hon?" Jacob Sr. fills her ears. Honey nods through her tears, crossing the kitchen back to Jake's arms. He pulls her close, kissing the crown of her head as her tears stain his shirt. Janet's eyes gleam as she sees the two being affectionate again. She had been so worried about them both being apart for so long.

"I'm fine, promise." Honey's voice wobbles slightly. "I'm just really, really happy to be home. I didn't want to be a burden, but, I-I've really missed you guys."

"Oh nonsense! I promise we're happy to have you home, sweetheart." Janet's own face wobbles with emotion. "Now, c'mon, I'm glad I waited to make desserts, now I've got double the help."

She shuffles her bowls of ingredients around on the counter and Honey pulls away from Jake, more than happy to lend a hand with making sweets. Jake slips out of the kitchen to allow them to share their moment, and finds himself lounging next to his grandfather in the living room.

The graying man peers up at him over his glasses, giving him a satisfied look.

"Smart move there, son."

Jake directs his eyes from the black and white film on the TV to his grandfather.

"What do you mean?"

"Bringin' Honey home, makin' things right with her. Me and your Granny learned real quick this place doesn't feel the same when you two aren't around."

Jake smiles, shocked by the amount of emotion behind his usually stoic grandfather's words. The older man only gives him a hint of a smile before focusing on his western movie again. Jake listens as he hears Honey's laughter from the kitchen, and for the first time in six months, he feels content. Exhausted from hours of driving and he and Honey's activities in her dorm, he falls asleep on the couch.

Later, after Honey and Janet have finished their baking for the night, Honey spots Jake sprawled across the sofa, his boots and hat abandoned at the end. She covers him up with the blanket that rests behind him, placing a kiss on his forehead. She hadn't intended to wake him, but his eyes popped open. He's not fully awake, still a little bleary eyed as his hands fumble for her torso.

"C'mon, J, you're tired. Let's go to bed."

"Hm, lead the way, baby."

That night, Jake sleeps with Honey under his chin, tucked comfortably into his hold as tightly as possible. He dreams of Honey vividly-although mundane and simple, his dreams are a comfort: them sitting placidly with one another as she reads and he looks on as her voice fills his ears. For the first time in nearly six months, both of them slept peacefully and deeply, in a way they never could without sleeping next to one another. Tomorrow, when the Texas sun blares through Jake's thin curtains, they'll both be thrown headfirst into holiday preparations. But tonight, under the same roof where their story had ended, it begins again: Honey, in Jake's arms, sleeping content and comfortable in the bedroom up the stairs.

-

taglist:

@djs8891

@unattainablesillygoose

@psuedochakra

@fraaaaankiiiiieee

@mrsevans90

@86laura11

@cmiguelbilinski

*if you asked me/want to be on the taglist and you weren't tagged, pls message me, i would love to add you!!

[elusivewildflower]

Never Leaving You Again | Colt Seavers x GN! Reader

Pairing: Colt Seavers x GN! Reader

Summary: After getting into a car accident and being unconscious for several days, Reader wakes up to find their ex-boyfriend Colt in their hospital room. They haven't spoken since his own accident over a year ago and Reader isn't exactly thrilled to see him.

Warnings: Hospitals, mention of injuries, very angsty as reader was ghosted by Colt a year ago and now he's shown back up. Ends happily, though!

Word Count: 1.9k

A/N: As always, thanks to the Goose Groupies for the help with ideas and encouragement!! This is loosely based off of this idea that @hederasgarden reblogged the other day! I've still got another Colt fic that is nearly finished, as this idea was a nice surprise to take over my muse! I hope you all enjoy! Please like and reblog!

As you regain consciousness, the first thing you notice is the sound of rhythmic beeping. Your eyelids feel heavy and your mouth is drier than the Sahara Desert. It takes a few attempts of opening your eyes before you’re finally successful. When you do, you’re greeted by the sight of a tiled ceiling. A few moments later and you begin to become aware of the rest of your body. Your head is pounding, you have a sharp pain in your ribs every time you breathe, and you’re pretty certain one of your legs is broken. There’s other aches and pains radiating throughout your body, but you’re unable to pinpoint exactly where quite yet. 

You’ve deduced that you’re in the hospital. The sound of machines beeping, the familiar weight of an I.V. needle in your arm, and the harsh lighting made that easy to figure out. Now, you just needed to remember how you had gotten here. As you push yourself up into a sitting position, which causes your ribs to ache in protest, you let out a hiss of pain. Suddenly, you’re aware that you’re not in the room alone. 

“Oh thank God, you’re awake!” A cry of relief came from a voice that sounded all too familiar. 

Your brows furrowed in confusion at first, and then with anger. Sitting in an uncomfortable looking chair was none other than your ex, Colt Seavers. He certainly looked worse for wear. His short blond hair was all disheveled, he had bags under his eyes, and his clothes were wrinkled. 

What the hell was he doing here?

You opened your mouth to ask that very question, but no sound came out. A hand rose to your throat as you realized you desperately needed something to drink. 

Sensing what you needed, Colt rushed to your bedside table to pour you a cup of water from the pitcher that sat there. Wordlessly, you accepted the drink and gulped it down in record time. Colt took the empty cup from you and sat it back down. 

“How are you feeling? Would you like more water? Do you remember anything?” Colt fired questions rapidly as he worried over you. 

He was acting as if everything was completely normal between you. As if he had never ghosted you over a year ago and broke your heart. It was bad enough that you were still trying to piece together what landed you in the hospital in the first place, but for him to be here too? You were beyond confused and you were livid. 

“What the hell are you doing here, Colt?” Your words didn’t hold as much menace in them as you felt, but you chalked that up to the fact that your voicebox felt strained.

Colt’s face fell drastically. He looked like a puppy that had just been kicked. His blue eyes darted back and forth as he tried to find his words. “I….I was your emergency contact.” He spoke softly, sounding deflated. 

You sat there in silence for a moment as that information sank in. Fuck, did you really forget to change that? You shook your head, just because he was your contact and he showed up doesn’t make everything alright. He nearly died over a year ago from a stunt gone wrong and he didn’t let you sit at his bedside, so why did he deserve to sit at yours? 

“You shouldn’t have come, Colt. You need to leave.” You finally broke the silence with your firm words. 

Somehow Colt’s face fell even further. You didn’t understand why he looked so devastated. Neither of you had spoken since his accident, and it wasn’t from lack of trying – at least on your part. He ignored every single phone call and text message you sent. After a while, you had to give up. It wasn’t healthy to continue begging a man to let you take care of him – to be there for him. 

Tears began to well up in Colt’s eyes as he looked away from you. He sniffled and chuckled ruefully before speaking. “I thought if you still had me as your contact, then that meant you would want me here…” 

Your mouth dropped open for a moment as you were at a loss for words. You stared at him in disbelief. “We haven’t spoken in over a year, Colt! You….you ghosted me!” Colt flinched as your voice raised, but you continued on. “You ignored me!” Your arms flailed around wildly as you shouted. “You shut me out!” By now, tears had welled up in your own eyes and were trailing down your cheeks. “Why would I want you here?!” 

Colt didn’t have a chance to respond as the volume of your voice must’ve alerted the nurses you were finally awake. Seconds later, one popped in with a concerned look. “Is everything alright in here?” 

You glanced between the nurse and Colt with a heavy sigh, but nodded. Colt remained silent and his gaze was now glued to the floor. Every so often you could hear him sniffle and his hand would raise to wipe at his nose. You tried your best to blink back your tears as the nurse came over to check your vitals. 

The air in the room was heavy and uncomfortable as the nurse asked you various questions about what you remembered. It started with your name, your birthday, where you worked, and ended with what you recalled from your accident. Thankfully, in the last ten minutes of arguing with Colt, the memory of the car crash had come back to you. What you didn’t realize, however, was that you had been unconscious for several days. The nurse took her time explaining to you the extent of your injuries and that you’d be staying in the hospital for at least a few more days. She refilled your cup with water and told you the doctor would be in to see you shortly before leaving. She shot one last glance towards Colt on her way out. 

Now, the two of you were alone again. After you reached over to grab your cup of water and take a few sips from it, your attention settled on Colt. God, he really looked like shit. Even more so now that his eyes were red and puffy from crying. He still refused to look up from the tiled floor, but you could see the tears that continued to fall down his face. You let out another heavy sigh, ignoring the sharp pain in your ribs. He was crying because of you. While a part of you rejoiced to know that he felt at least a fraction of the hurt you felt when he left you, the other part of you ached with regret. 

You set your cup back on the bedside table. “Have you been here the whole time?” You asked softly.

Colt finally lifted his gaze to meet yours and nodded. “I came as soon as I got the call.” He then chuckled wetly as he brushed away a few tears and sniffled. “I didn’t want you to be alone.” 

The ache in your heart only worsened at his admission and tears were blurring your vision. But there was still one nagging question you had to ask. “Why didn’t you let me be there for you?” 

Now it was Colt’s turn to sigh heavily. His hands rubbed up and down his thighs as he shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “I…was embarrassed and felt like a failure.” His eyes refused to meet yours as he continued. “I nearly killed myself in front of you and the whole crew because I made a miscalculation– which turns out, wasn’t a miscalculation at all.” His words confused you, but he didn’t leave any time for you to speak. “But, at the time I thought I had screwed up. I didn’t think you’d want to deal with all of the….serious stuff.” 

All you could do was shake your head as Colt rambled on. “You know, the surgeries, the rehab, the…bathroom stuff.” He gave a shrug of his shoulders. “After a while, I realized my mistake. But I thought it was too late….That you had probably moved on.” He sucked in a shaky breath. “When I got that call…” He trailed off for a moment, wiping away fresh tears that had fallen down his cheeks. “I finally knew how you felt that day and I am so sorry for shutting you out.” Colt finally let his baby blues meet yours as he apologized. 

“I thought that if I was your emergency contact, that maybe I hadn’t missed my chance.” His eyes fell from yours once more as he shook his head solemnly. “I see now that I was wrong…” Colt pushed himself up from his seat and heaved a sigh, glancing towards the door before speaking once more. “For whatever it’s worth, I’m still in love with you.” 

As you watched him walk towards the door, your heart felt as if it was breaking into two all over again. You knew deep down that you couldn’t let him leave. “Colt, wait–.” 

He halted in his tracks and looked at you expectantly. You could see it written all over his face – the hope that you would tell him what he desperately wanted to hear. 

More tears cascaded down your cheeks and your lips trembled as you drew in a shaky breath. “I’m still in love with you too.” You admitted softly.

A beaming smile spread across Colt’s face as he laughed with relief. He was happier than you had seen him in a very long time. In mere seconds he crossed the room and crashed his lips against yours. His large, calloused, hand reached for your jaw and held you in place. He didn’t want you pulling away from him any time soon, but you had no plans of doing that anyway. One of your hands threaded through his messy hair as you passionately devoured each other. His thick beard scratched across your skin, but you loved every second of it. Your heart rate was increasing by the minute, the rhythmic beeping kicking up in tempo, but neither of you cared. It had been far too long since your last kiss. When you absolutely had to pull away for air, there was hardly a gap between you. Your breaths mingled and noses nuzzled against each other gently. 

After a moment of having full oxygen in your brain again, your confusion from earlier returned. Your brows furrowed as you posed your question. “What did you mean by your accident wasn’t a miscalculation?” 

Colt chuckled softly, planting another kiss on your lips. “Oh, sweetheart, we’ve got a lot to catch up on.” 

This time, you couldn’t help but laugh too. “Mm, eighteen months is a long time to be apart.” Your mind is briefly filled with all of the things you would have to catch him up on. For the first time in a long time, you feel giddy.

“And I’m never leaving you again.” He murmured confidently, the tears in his blue eyes finally drying up as a light now shined within them.

You captured his lips in a tender kiss and he responded eagerly. It wasn’t long before his tongue was licking into your mouth and exploring every inch that he had missed in your time apart. You knew there was much for you to discuss, and you had a lengthy road to recovery, but there was no one else in the world you’d rather be with than Colt.

The two of you would figure it out – and that gave you hope for the first time in over a year.

[luv-unknwn]

Serene

daryl dixon x fem!reader

summary - ♡ you and daryl go on a run and things dont go entirely as planned....but in a good way

SMUT SMUT SMUT

a/n - ♡ ik this isnt that good i haven't slept and its almost 6 am so i aint editing it anywaysss, im watching the show for the first time rn and i just could NOT resist writing smth for daryl so enjoy!! 🤭

(changed the name cause i realized i forgot to change it so it didn't make sense pls)

"no- god damn it girl gon get us killed out here if you keep lookin round so much" daryl grabbed your wrist to pull you along the muddy trail, nearly falling on your ass from his fast pace. "keep up, quit draggin your feet"

"fuck off man its nice to get out of that damn prison sometimes and see the world even if it is filled with walkers and assholes like you" you snort, pushing forward so you're walking ahead of him. "besides, the slower i walk, the more time we spend together, and i know that you love hanging out with me so much, dont you, D?”

going on runs had become a favorite activity of yours, somehow even with daryl being such a grumpy gus, it was serene. walking through completely empty towns; the opposite of the now packed prison you were living in.

“oh come on, don’t pretend you don't love me” you giggle at daryl's annoyed look. you'd grown somewhat of a crush for daryl in the last months, as much as you wish you hadn't, it's been nice having something to focus on rather than the overwhelmingly loud but silent nights in the prison.

it was the simple head nods as you pass each other, and him asking specifically to take you on runs, always staying in front of you when something goes wrong. those were the things that really fueled this crush, which carol had pointed out to you. you'd honestly always thought there was something going on with those two but when she asked you about how close you and daryl had gotten she assured you they were only best friends.

“ain't got time for your wanderin today girl, lets go-” a twig snaps to your left. “get behind me”

the walker stumbles out from the trees grunting, growling, and drooling toward daryl before he shoots an arrow right into his left eye. not so aware of your surroundings a walker comes out of the trees behind you grabbing onto you, you fight against its hold. just as you get a hand free to reach for your knife, daryl shoots the walker and it falls loudly to the ground.

“-shit” you gasp in big breaths of air. you reach for daryl's arm grabbing hold for stability, “thanks, D.”

“‘course, won't let nothin’ bad happen to you” you practically melt at his words and the vulnerable look in his eyes when he says it, like he's telling you an important secret he's never told anyone else.

you're so close you can feel the heat coming off his body as your eyes move from his to his mouth. never wanting something so bad in your entire life.

he's pulling away before you can even think to move toward him.

“best keep goin ‘fore it gets dark” his words are dismissive, completely ignoring the clear sparks flying between the two of you just seconds ago.

“right, you're right” clearing your throat a bit awkwardly, you speed up so you're walking ahead of him, trying to focus as hard as you can just on the task at hand.

the first few houses you search were pretty much empty save for a can of beans. the next one however had an entire cabinet filled with things you could take back to the prison, but not before you and daryl have a few snacks to refuel for the trip back.

“maybe we should stay the night here? we can hit a few houses on the way back in the morning, it's getting late and i dont wanna be walkin’ back in the dark” you suggest to daryl from the living room of the house.

“‘kay, lets find some blankets n stuff we'll camp out in here” daryl's voice is right behind you when he speaks, startling you from looking at broken picture frames of the family who used to be here.

you managed a makeshift bed on the floor with the few blankets and pillows you found in the bedrooms. you and daryl now laying there staring quietly up at the ceiling.

“were-” daryl starts to say something but stops before he can even get the first word out.

“what is it, D?” you whisper, turning your body so you're laying on your side facing him.

“were you gonna kiss me earlier?” daryl's uncharacteristically hesitant voice whispers into the quiet room.

the air in the room is suddenly thicker than before and the closeness of you and daryl seems almost too close.

“was i- was i gonna kiss you? i mean i don't know you were so close and just you know it's not like i meant t-” you're cut off by daryl suddenly pressing his lips against yours gently, staying unmoving for a few seconds until your brain catches up with you enough for you to kiss back.

the kiss deepens when you reach your hands around his neck to pull him impossibly closer to you, his own hands sliding down from your cheeks to your shoulders to your hips.

“daryl i- i need you,” you whisper against his lips when you pull away a bit for air.

he pulls back farther to look into your eyes.

“you sure ‘bout this?” his voice is genuine, even as his hands are already under your shirt going farther up until he reaches your bra, stilling there while he waits for your answer.

“yes, please daryl” you'd be lying if you said you hadn't thought about this many times. daryle above you while you're begging for him.

the moment the words left your mouth he was sitting you up to pull your shirt over your head, quickly reconnecting your lips with a moan so low it could have been a growl.

daryl pulled away to reach around you and unhook your bra, letting it fall between you.

“fuck,” he sighed, letting his head fall to your shoulder at the sight of how perfectly your boobs fell naturally.

seconds later you were pushing his vest off and pulling his shirt over his head, throwing it across the room and leaning down to kiss over his muscular shoulders. daryl's hands fell to your boobs while you left reddish-purple spots all over his throat and shoulders.

“lemme get these off baby” he was already unbuttoning your jeans when you rose to your knees to help him pull them down off your ass, sitting back on the floor so he could pull them and your shoes completely off. he was feeling up and down your soft legs, the way he was squeezing your thighs making your core tighten around nothing. “so pretty f'me.”

daryl's hands trailed up your legs to the soft cotton of your panties, he groaned when his rough fingertips grazed the wet spot leaking through them.

“lift ya pretty legs honey” he grunts out, when you listen he pulls your panties down your legs. the cool air of the room hitting your wetness makes you whimper quietly. “s'even prettier than i imagined,”

daryl pushes your knees farther apart to get a better look at you before he bring a finger up to graze your wet entrance, sliding it up to press gentle circles against your clit, making you gasp from the stimulation.

“god that feels good, please don't stop” you're whining when he finally pushes two fingers into you, starting a steady pace while keeping his thumb on your clit moving quicker each second. you're an absolute moaning mess below him, your back arching against him.

“y'like that sweetheart? like how m'fingers feel inside you, yea? y’gonna cum f’me baby?” his words are only pushing you closer and closer to the edge, your legs shaking around his hand.

“fuck- shit you're g-” you cut yourself off with a louder moan when he quickens the pace of his fingers, “s’good at this”

“c'mon baby, cum f'me, all over my fingers. thats right, good girl.” his words are what push you over the edge, the filthy words mixed in with his gentle praise has you shaking as you ride the intense waves of your orgasm. “such a good girl f'me”

when your breathing starts to slow back to a normal pace you feel daryl pull his fingers out of you and being them up to his lips, sucking your juices off his own fingers.

“that was- wow” you saw still trying to catch your breath, legs not fully stopped shaking either. before daryl can say anything else you're reaching for his belt to undo it.

“no, s'alright. wanted to make you feel good, go to sleep” he says grabbing your t-shirt and pulling it over your head.

“but-”

“nah if ya really feelin’ up for it, in the mornin’ you can, but we gotta get some sleep tonight” daryl leans over and kisses your forehead and pulls you down to lay on his chest.

and that's exactly how you woke up in the morning, cuddled up on the floor, clothes thrown around the room, hickies everywhere.

[pretty-red-garnet]

Sparkly Blues

Daryl Dixon x fem! Reader • Pre-apocalypse/Prison • Fluff/Angst

I’m not really sure how I feel about this one. I kept going back and forth about it and deleting parts and then rewriting and blah blah blah. But it took way too long to write, so I’m posting it anyway lol. I hope someone enjoys it. Also! I’m taking requests! So give me some for our love Daryl. <3

You had met Daryl by bartending. You were new to the town and it was the only shit job you could manage to get. You were staying in the small Georgia town to take care of a sick family member, and all the money you could get was needed. Even if the job sucked.

It was the hot spot for the local bikers. The patrons you were forced to deal with were all seedy, loud, and rude. You had to stop a bar fight at least twice a night, and got groped and flirted with at least a thousand times. You had only been there a few weeks and you were about to quit. If you thought your sick aunt could make it back to your home town, you would've packed her up in a second.

But then Daryl showed up, in toe with his rowdy older brother. They sat at the bar, and one flash of his sparkly blue eyes and you were hooked. Your heart did one hard thump and your knees just nearly buckled. Damn he was cute.

"Hey, give us two pints!" His brother demanded, his eyes also blue but lacking the sparkle the younger man had. Lacking what made his eyes so pretty. His were empty and had blown pupils. His demand broke your daze, and you rushed to give them their beers. You smiled lightly at Daryl, who just avoided your eyes. You could just barely see in the dim lighting his face was a little pink.

At closing, you questioned your coworker about the brothers, mostly to learn more about the cute quiet one. She paused her wiping a table to look at you with confused eyes.

"Merle and Daryl? They've been coming for years, they go on hunting trips a lot though. That's why you haven't met them," she explains.

"Sooo... who's the quiet one?" She gives you a questioning look with a brow raised.

"You mean Daryl? Daryl Dixon?" She had asked.

"Is Daryl the really cute one with pretty blue eyes?" She laughed and rolled her eyes. "What? I'm serious!"

"Y/N, he's a Dixon," she said, like that was all the explanation you needed. You raised your brows at her to keep talking, she rolls her eyes. "They're no good. Believe me."

"He seemed plenty nice to me..." you say with a shrug. "Quiet, shy, he even thanked me! I mean I think it's the first 'thank you' I've gotten since I got hired."

"Daryl isn't bad I guess. He doesn't really talk to anyone." You nod and when she stops talking, you nudge her. "Y/N believe me, maybe he was ok today, but he's gotten in his fair share of fight. He doesn't say much, but when he does, it's usually yelling. And he's Merle's brother, who you should really stay away from."

"Damn," you mumble with a sigh. "He's really cute though." She laughed and slapped your shoulder.

"This isn't the place to find boyfriend material." She sighed dramatically and fumbled with something behind the bar. You looked at her with a puzzled expression. "But it is the place to drink!" She slams a hefty bottle on the bar and you laugh.

     When the weekend rolls around the Dixons come again. You try to snap yourself out of your daze and do your work, but it's a little hard with the handsome stranger sitting there and your coworker snickering whenever you so much as glanced at him. When closing time came around, you grabbed the wet towel you were cleaning with and snapped her behind with it.

     "Can you blame me?! Have you seen his eyes?!" You snapped at her with a red face, but she only laughed even harder.

     This little routine continued for another two weeks. Stealing little glances at the man and your friend laughing and poking at you until you were red as a firetruck.

    One night though, during a busy Friday night, your friend called out. You were all alone managing both the bar and waitressing as she did. You scurried to the bar from the backroom as you heard a loud ruckus and yelling. And to no one's surprise, it was another bar fight.

     This time it was the Dixon brothers against another two biker assholes. Merle against one and Daryl the other. You yelled and shouted at them to stop, but no one was letting up. Daryl was almost underneath the biker he was fighting, and so against your better judgment, you stepped in.

     "Alright, alright! Enough!" You shouted and tried grabbing his arm that was just about to wail on Daryl. He looked back just a split second before breaking his arm from your grasp and slamming it back into your face. You immediately stumbled back and onto the floor clutching your head, where he got you with a big metal ring right in the temple.

     Finally, an older, more respected biker stepped in. He broke up the fight and shoved the two bikers— who you assumed must've started the fight— out the door.

     You reached up a hand and slightly panicked when you pulled your fingers away and saw blood. Your vision was a little blurry and you looked up blearily to who crouched in front of you, only to see the prettiest eyes imaginable.

     "You alright?" Daryl asked. You nodded in a daze, but his brows furrowed in concern still.

     "Y-yeah. I'm ok." He nodded and reached his hands out to help you up. Even in your state, you can see his knuckles are bloodied and busted.

     He helped you to sit on a bar stool before walking off, and you took a quick glance around. It was just about closing time now, so most were gone. All that remained was the older biker that broke up the fight, a few stragglers, and Merle bragging that he won the brawl.

     "Everybody out! Come on," Daryl calls out. The stragglers filter out the doors pretty quick, still probably buzzing from the excitement of the fight.

     Daryl retuned to you with a little first aid kid. He grabbed a clean wet towel and wiped at the blood on your face. If you weren't still seeing stars, you'd probably be having a conniption right now.

"You gonna fix up the girl, baby brother?" Merle asks with a sickening grin. Daryl just hummed a yes. "Don't come home without getting some tail first!"

"Shut up, man!" Daryl yelled, turning to him. He turned back once he was out the door and his checks were a little flushed.

     "You need a hospital?" He asked a moment later, recovered from Merle's obnoxious comment. His tongue was peaking out of his lip in concentration as he puts a little bandage to your cut. Oh boy.

     "No, no," you stammer out. Now that you were beginning to recover from your state, you realize you were completely alone with him, and he was helping you. Being all gentle while he wipes your face softly, close to his face, staring into his eyes... this is heaven. "I'm ok. Thanks."

     He nods, biting the inside of his lip. He closes the first aid kit and stashed it where it belongs behind the bar.

     "'M sorry you got hurt," he mutters. You just give him a small smile.

     "It's ok. I know you didn't start the fight." He shuffled back over to you and hovers awkwardly. "And you cleaned me up. Thank you."

     "My fault anyway," he says with a shrug. He still didn't meet your eyes.

"Well," you start, but hesitate. Daryl looks at you and waits patiently for you to continue. "I know a way you can repay me. If you really want."

"What's that?" He asks.

"Drive me home?"

From that day forward you and Daryl were somewhat inseparable. He always came to the bar if you knew you were working, sometimes even without Merle which you appreciated. He gave you the creeps, even though Daryl had assured you he wouldn't do anything to you. He also might've threatened to knock him out for you if he ever stepped out of line.

Despite your coworkers concerns, Daryl was pretty perfect— even if a little rough around the edges at times. He was sweet, and while Merle and most of the other bikers looked at you as if you were meat, Daryl always looked at you so genuinely. So sweetly.

He even drove you home most nights now ever since that first night you both really talked. He learned your car broke down, and between your aunt's medical bills and your job's shitty pay, you couldn't get it fixed. Daryl had tried to fix it, but the part you needed was way too pricey. He didn't like that you walked home at almost three in the morning, so he drove you after every shift. Even if he didn't hang out at the bar that night.

You were pretty positive Daryl was the greatest guy you had ever met. So kind, and attentive, and always doing his best to help you with whatever you needed. Helpful without expecting something in return.

     When your aunt eventually died, a few months after being close with Daryl, he was the first one you called. You were in hysterics, and he sped over to the hospital as fast as he could just to hug and hold you.

     He stayed with you for days, made your meals, even hunted so you would have fresh meat for him to cook you. But mostly, he stayed by your side like wet on water.

     Daryl wasn't the best with comforting people, or really with emotions at all, but he tried. And you always appreciated it. Even if he didn't know what to say, and he'd just hold you tight and let you cry. Or played with your hair when you couldn't sleep. Daryl was better with actions than with words, and you didn't mind a bit.

     It was during this time that you knew you didn't just care about him as a good friend, or even as a crush, but was in love with him. You loved how caring and loyal he was, how you were completely comfortable with him and knew you could always rely on him.

     "Daryl, I need to tell you something," you murmured, you voice cloudy with tears still. It was only a week after your aunts passing and while you were getting better, you had a really rough day. Memories flashing through your mind and making it nearly impossible to get through your day without breaking down.

     "Hm," Daryl hummed. You felt the vibrations in your chest, as he held you close to him and stroked your hair.

     "I love you," you said, nuzzling your face in his neck, too scared to see his face. To see that he didn't feel for you that way. Or try to push you away. You couldn't look at him.

     Hesitantly, he gently pulled your face away from his neck to look at you. Your eyes were still red and rimmed with tears, which he brushed away with a thumb. You were scared to see rejection, but when you worked up the nerve to look at his face, you saw anything but.

     You saw pure love.

     "Daryl," you called.

     "What?" He said from the other room, shortly before entering the living room where you stood. He was shirtless, wearing only jeans. His hair was still damp from his shower and you took a second to take in the sight before voicing your concerns.

     "I don't think you should go on that hunting trip." You looked back to the news, who was reporting about strange serial killings around the country, now hitting Atlanta. They were eating the bodies.

     He walked up to stand by you. You looked at him in worry. He smiled and brushed a hand down your face gently.

     "That's Atlanta. If anything, me and Merle will be safer from those freaks in the woods," he says and presses his lips to yours to smooth away your worry. "You should come, too."

     "I can't." You level him with a serious look. "My coworker is sick with some flu, I'll be taking care of the bar all by myself."

     Daryl pushes his face into your neck and lays down kisses on your neck, moving down to your shoulders, then chest. You adore the scratchy feeling of his stubble on your delicate skin.

     "Come on," he complains into your chest, and you giggle a little at his whining. "They can close the bar for one goddamn weekend."

     "The money doesn't hurt either, Mr. Dixon," you tease. He pulls away to look you in the eye, hands on your hips and that same soft and genuine look on his face that you fell in love with to begin with. And those eyes. Despite all the years you've been with the man, his sparkly blues were still the prettiest thing you've ever seen.

     "Fine," he obliges, but he still with a little frown. You wipe it away with a firm peck and a caress to his cheek. His eyes close momentarily, soaking in the feeling, before opening them again. He gazes at you with half lidded eyes, so lovingly and tenderly. "Whatever you say, Mrs. Dixon."

     That morning was the last time you'd seen your husband. The flesh eating 'serial killers'—which you now are reanimated corpses— made their way to your small town while he was gone. You tried to stay as long as you could, but soon a herd trying to make their way into your house and you couldn't stay.

     You tried to get to where the Dixons were camping, but was too late. They were already gone for god knows how long. And so you moved around, trying to find him. You had no clue where to look, you weren't a tracker like Daryl, but you tried.

     You moved through the woods and stayed at cabins you found, or made a little camp with cans on wire surrounding it so you can hear anything coming. Daryl had taught you that, when you stayed at a campground with him once where there were larger animals roaming around.

     You missed him.

     You missed how he could always ease your worries and calm you down. His gentle touches and soft kisses. How soft he was with you. The way he always looked at you with love and care. You missed all of him.

     You're ashamed to think that maybe you'll never find him. Or maybe he only lives in your memories now. Maybe the last time you saw him was truly the last time.

     You could still see his eyes in your mind whenever you tried to sleep. You stayed awake most of the time now.

     You move around an abandoned gas station. It was your little camp for the moment. It had four walls and the doors held well enough, for now anyway. It's been almost a year of this now. Of moving around trying to find Daryl, with not even a clue. You needed to hunker down for at least a week, you're growing too weak and exhausted.

     The gas station was littered with dirt and grime, along with some candy and other snacks that weren't scavenged. Some water bottles were still in the coolers, but barren shelves took up most of the space.

     You're moving some of the shelving to the door, hoping that blocking it would keep the monsters out. If they didn't hear or see you, maybe they'll just wander by.

     You set up a blanket in the corner and throw your pack down before laying your head on it. You take a deep breath and try to fight the tears. You can't do this anymore. You can't just survive anymore. Is there even a point? Tears burn at your eyes and you close them shut.

     You must fall asleep at some point, because when your eyes fly open to voices, it's bright out.

     "There's something blocking the door," a woman says, trying in vain to push the doors open. You grab your gun quickly and rush to hide behind some shelving.

     "Hang on, let me try," a man says, before you hear more loud screeching from the metal shelves scraping on the floor. You point your gun in front of you, really hoping you don't have to use it.

     You hear footsteps, and see light streaming in now that the shelves weren't blocking the sun. Your hands shake a little on the gun.

     "Seems clear," the man says. You hold your breath. Maybe they'll just leave. You peak ever so slightly over the shelve to see the two. Ones a Asian guy, and the other is a pretty brunette girl.

     "Glenn," she says, and points over to your blanket and pack. "Someone was here."

     You slink back down, slowly and carefully. You can hear as the two begin to walk cautiously around the tiny store. The guy—Glenn— begins to walk around the shelf you're hiding behind, so you try to move to block yourself from his sight. But you didn't see the empty can by your foot, and kick it, causing it to roll out in the open. Shit.

     "Whoever's back there, come out!" Glenn calls out. "We won't hurt you, just come out slow."

     You weight your options in your head, but decide to walk out. They looked put together and well kept, maybe they had some sort of camp? A stable enough place that they wouldn't kill you for a can a beans and a half empty bottle of water?

     "Put the gun down," the girl says, flanking you from behind while the man is in front. You oblige, and the gun drops to the floor with a metallic thump. Your heart beats a million miles a second.

     "You have a camp?" Glenn asks.

     "This is my camp," you answer. Your hands were raised slightly in front of you, not wanting to startle them in any way and end up with a bullet between your eyes.

     "What about a group? Are you with anyone?" He asks. He eyes your warily, but they seemed kind. The girl walked out in front of you, her gun in hand but not held up. They didn't seem malicious. Maybe this could work out?

"No, just me," you answer. He and the woman give you a long look.

     "We have a camp, answer our questions and we can take you back," the girl says, holstering her weapon. Glenn lowers his but keeps it in his hand. "My names Maggie, and that's Glenn." You nod, and your eyes dance from one to the other. They didn't seem bad, but you can't be too careful nowadays.

     "How many walkers have you killed?" Glenn asks.

     "I don't know," you say with a shrug. "I've been moving around a lot, so a bunch I guess."

     "How many people?" You gulp at his question.

     "I shot a guy trying to rob me, not sure if I killed him." The man nods, and you wonder what's going to happen to you. They have a camp, but is it safe? Even if it is, would you go? Daryl could still be out there...

     "Our camp is a prison not far, you can come back with us," Maggie says, a kind smile gracing her pretty face. "What's your name?"

     "Y/N, Y/N Dixon." The couples eyes fly open, their jaws drop slightly. "What?"

     "You wouldn't happen to know a Daryl Dixon, would you?" She asks, and your heart just about burst right out of your chest.

"Yeah, he's my husband," you say, excitedly. Your heart is thumping almost painfully against your ribs. "You know him?"

"Daryl's married?!" Glenn shouts out. Maggie thumps him once on the shoulder and gives him a stern look. "What?"

The whole trip to the prison you thought you were dreaming. Maybe this isn't happening. I'm asleep still. Daryl is gone.... You still tried to hold onto hope, your chest tight and fingers anxiously drumming against your leg.

Maggie and Glenn were sweet, both with matching grins at the idea of yours and Daryl's reunion. They asked questions along the way, how you'd met him and how long you were married. You answered them all happily, almost to the point of tears.

When the car drove up to the prison fences, you looked around in awe. There were animals and crop gardens, kids running around the fields. It was something you never thought you'd see again.

A man opened the fence for you three, and a grey haired woman followed after seeing you step out of the car. The man had a beard and cowboy boots on, and he smiled warmly when he saw you. The woman had a look just as kind.

"Rick, Carol, you'll never guess who this is," Maggie says, a huge smile plastered on her face as she jumped out of the car. They both give you a second glance and look at her a little confused, and the man— Rick— nodded for her to continue. "Daryl's wife."

"Oh!" Carol gasped, a big smile on her face. "So nice to meet you! I've heard so much about you!"

"Only good things I hope," you say. You're still buzzing, and your eyes fly across the field in hope of catching a glance of your husband. Your heart flutters, your knees feel weak, and you still feel this may be a dream. A figment of your imagination.

And then you see him.

Your eyes widen, and with one last glance at your four new friends, you book it towards him. Your feet barely touch the grass as you bolt towards your husband.

"Daryl!" He turns sharply at the sound of your voice. He's half bent over his bike, hands full of grease and grime, and still he's the most beautiful thing you've ever seen. He stops in his tracks for just a second before running to meet you in the middle.

You jump into his arms, his grease caked hands rubbing all over you but you couldn't care less. His fingers tremble where they lay on your back. Your face is shoved into his neck and you relish in the feeling of him.

"I thought I lost you I—" he says, cutting himself off, like he couldn't even think of it. "I looked for you everywhere."

"Me too," you say, voice laced with tears. This has to be a dream, it has to be. Your burrow your face even deeper into him and tighten your hold. "I don't want this to be a dream."

     "Shh, it's not," he murmurs lovingly in your ear. "I promise, I'm right here."

     Tears flow down your face even faster. Negative thoughts still plague your brain. Daryl brushes his hands down your back, up to caress your shoulders, before moving back down to clutch at your hips. His touches become more desperate and clingy. You think he's never going to let you go, you never want him to.

     Finally, you muster up the courage to look at him. You slowly peel your face away from his neck. Daryl presses a kiss to your forehead, resting a hand on your cheek softly. You look at him with matching tear stained faces, smiling. Gently, you push his grown out fringe away from his face.

     He's smiling, probably the happiest you've ever seen him, even with tear tracks down his pretty face. And when you finally lock eyes with those sparkly blues you've only seen in your dreams for so long, you know he's really there.

[luimagines]

Super excited you opened requests! If possible could you do one where the chain (individual or together dealers choice) ends up in the readers time after the adventure ends and thinking they wouldn't see each other again? (Maybe a sprinkle of confessions that they didn't get the chance to say before)

Secret conclusion to Leaving before he confesses? o.o Yes, no? Maybe so? Doesn't have to be. Take it as you will. :D

Masterlist

Part one will include Time, Twilight and Warriors!

Content under the cut!

Time

Time was about to lose his mind. Wasn't he suppose to be done with this whole adventuring thing? He's getting too old for this.

Why doesn't he know where he is? Why is he so far from home? He doesn't even remember walking through a portal this time. All he knows is that he was walking home after his shift on Lon Lon Ranch, then the world melted and he was in the middle of a forest.

This is getting obnoxious. He doesn't even have any of his weaponry nor does he have his armor. If he were to be attacked at this very moment, he would have to get creative. It's unfortunate that he's not as young as he used to be.

There's a trail he can follow at least. Maybe it can lead him to civilization and he can get some answers and start to figure out what he's supposed to do now.

Thankfully, he finds a town. It's small and quaint but it would suffice. Time isn't particularly picky about his options right now.

He walks into the town, glad that he's arrived before sunset when he spot a familiar face walking into a nearby house. He calls out your name in the hope that he's not fully lost his mind.

He sees you freeze before shaking your head and turning the doorknob to your house.

Time takes off running, calling your name again. This time you turn around and you drop the items in your hands. You scream but also star running toward him.

He can't help it. When you collide, he lifts you into the air and spins. It gets the stares of many people around and he can already hear the whispers but he finds that he couldn't care less.

He can smell your hair and whatever perfume you have on. It's nice.

You start crying.

Concerned, Time leads you back to the house you were about to enter, guiding you inside and picking up the items you've dropped in the process.

You don't seem to want to let him go. He feels the same, but he doesn't need to make a public spectacle of you. Although it takes a hot second, you both enter the house. You latch onto him again and this time he holds you firmly and tightly against his chest.

"I thought I would never see you again." You say with a broken voice.

"You and me both." Time admit with a sigh. He kiss the tears from your eyes and runs his hands over your face and hair and shoulders- trying to memorize and refamiliarize himself with your shape, your feel- your presence. "I've missed you."

You nod and nearly break down into sobs again.

He shush you gently and holds you close. He can't find it in himself to speak any more- less he start crying as well.

"I loved you." You blurt. "I still love you. I haven't stopped. I don't care if you don't feel the same- but I can't keep this inside me. I need to you know-"

Time kisses you.

He's been meaning to say the same but he finds this gets the message across quicker.

Twilight

Twilight felt like he had taken this one a little better than he did the previous one. Once again someone he had felt like he loved left without much of a goodbye. Things were left unsaid, things he wanted the other party to know- with the idea that there was no way for them to see each other again.

It hurt, but it wasn't like he hadn't gone through this before.

That being said, he kept to himself nowadays. With the children growing older, they were being put to use as extra hands around the village. They were starting their apprenticeships and were learning the tricks and trades of the generation before them. Ergo, they didn't need someone like him to watch after them as often anymore.

Which wasn't so bad. It was quieter around his place, sure. But it gave him time to think. Time to heal. time he didn't know he needed.

He still misses you though.

The idea of what could have been still sits in his mind. He sighs and cleans his house for the first time in weeks. You always seems to be cleaning something when you traveled together. Whether it be their clothes, their weapons, their equipment- it just became your job whether they acknowledged it or not.

He can already hear you yelling at him in the back of his mind for letting his home fall to the state it has.

He personally doesn't care all that much- but a clean house is still nice to have.

Suddenly the reflection in his mirror changes. He's no longer looking at himself- but at the inside of another house entirely. He stares at it for a good moment before putting his hand to the glass.

It goes through. It's as if there wasn't any glass to begin with.

Ever curious, he climbs onto the table and through the mirror. He looks through the other, still not wanting to step all the way through just in case.

"Weird." He mutters to himself. "Well this has never happened before."

Someone screams.

Twilight jumps and hits his head on the railing before ducking back into his house for safety.

"Wait, wait, wait!" You scream before he can retreat and haul him through the mirror completely. "Is it really-? Tell me it's truly you! Link! It's me! How did you get here?"

Twilight rubs his head and looks in you in quiet awe. "...The mirror shifted..."

You sniffle, almost instantly bursting into tears and hug him around the neck. "Oh my goodness! I thought I would have lost you forever!"

Twilight hugs you slowly. His limbs don't seem to keep in pace with his mind. Can it be-? It is really-?

Twilight says your name slowly and lifts your head up to look him in the eye. You smile, tearful but beaming. You put your hand over his and lean into his touch. "I have no idea how you got your mirror to connect to my house, but I'm not complaining."

"It wasn't in my plans." Twilight feels like laughing. It is! It is you!

He picks you up and spins you around. "It's you!"

"It's me." You laugh.

Twilight puts you down gently and cups your cheeks. "I think I'm in love with you."

You blush fiercely but snort. "I've been in love with you, Link. I'm glad you caught up finally."

Warrior

Warrior didn't to let himself get too lost in his heart ache. If you didn't know how uselessly in love her was with you, then you didn't know. You weren't worse off because of it. If anything, you were blissfully unaware of his emotional turmoil and therefore, living happily without a single thought of him in your head.

Maybe this was a blessing in disguise. Although more so for you than for him.

And maybe he could take solace in that. You were living your life as you did before, so why can't he? It's not like anything will come from it now.

He sighs and puts the outgoing documents into the bin. He has a head ache now too. Not only can he not stop thinking about you, but the issues with the castle staff and the monster beyond their borders have been keeping his candle burning at both ends.

He needs a break.

Warrior stands up and walks out of his office, rubbing his temple as he goes.

He misses you. It's the only thing he can think about. Even if it's selfish at this point. He wishes he could have told you how he felt. Granted, he wasn't sure if that's knowledge that he should drop on you, and realistically he's glad that he didn't but the issue remains. He would feel better if you knew.

You might feel worse though.

What a pickle.

He walks through the castle with no destination in mind until he trips and falls down the stairs. He's already cursing himself in his head- hoping that there's no one around to witness this.

He hits the bottom and almost considers laying there to further the embarrassment.

He hears something shatter and he looks up in shock.

The first things he notices is that he's no longer in the castle. If anything, he looks like he's in a small house. He's still at the bottom of the stairs though. He pushes himself up, half in a daze and half aware that something having to do with more magical shenanigans has just happened.

"...Link?"

His blood goes cold. Oh how he's longed to hear that voice again- to hear you say his name. But this could be a trap.

He turns towards the sound cautiously. You're standing there, shattered plate by your feet with your hands over your mouth.

Warrior can feel himself tense up. You're stunning. Even now- "You look just as beautiful as the day you left."

You scramble over to him and hoist him onto his feet, breaking down into sobs before kissing him.

His eyes go wide as his hand land on your hips.

Well, this is certainly unexpected. But he's not complaining.

It takes him a moment to regain the use of his brain but he slowly kisses you back.

You pull away before he can get into it, wiping your face and running your hands over his upper body, taking him in. "...I missed you."

Warrior has to laugh. "Clearly... But it's ok." Warrior takes a chance kissing you once more. "I missed you too."

You bite your lip and blush a beautiful shade of red. You cough and play with the lapels of his uniform. You both stand there in silence, taking each other in.

Suddenly, as if the bubble pops, you both look each other in the eye a quiet breath passes between you both as you both speak in unison.

"I love you."

Part 2

[l0v3tast3]

ooh can i request a 141 witha reader that has bad abandonment issues and needs constant reassurance?

if it’s to much please then don’t do it, don’t wanna make you write something you don’t want to

but if you do mwah ily! ❤️❤️

as someone with severe abandonment issues. and also needs constant reassurance. thank you for this request lmao also mwah ily2 !!! (っ˘ω˘ς ) this was rlly cute to write lol also sorry this took like a month im finally trying to get caught up on requests lmaoo

✎ tags: gn!reader, young military reader, angst, mentions of violence, comfort, fluff

✎ word count: 900 words (not proofread)

masterlist | requests

✧ ˖ ° they all notice it when your eyes shift towards theirs for their approval when you do well during training, when you never say "no" to whatever they ask you to do for them. they think you're just eager to please. you're the shiny new recruit to the team, beaming bright and always ready to take on your next task, so they brush it off.

✧ ˖ ° simon is the first to really figure out how deep your servitude runs, what the real reason behind it is. it's during one of your missions together, him and johnny and you in a firefight. johnny gets separated from the two of you and he can nearly feel the panic radiating off of you at the thought of your teammate, your friend, being gone. you do a good job of concealing it, of pushing through it to clear the area before you bolt to go looking for him.

✧ ˖ ° it clicks for simon so quickly because he's been where you are before. he's felt that trepidation too many times, the dread dripping cold down his spine when the other end of the radio goes silent. he's felt that same dizzying relief when you both reunite with johnny and your shoulders visibly relax. so when you're all back at base and you're hanging back while you fiddle with your gear, he pats a heavy hand on your shoulder with a gruff "y'did good, kid," before he walks away.

✧ ˖ ° kyle doesn't quite figure it out in the same depth as simon, but he picks up on the way you get nearly giddy at any kind of praise or validation and how anxious you seem to get when you think you haven't done something as well as they want you to. as he gets to know you and grows more and more fond of you, he'll make it a point to encourage you and try his best to help you build your confidence in your abilities. it's subtle and obvious at the same time, a quick "nice shot!" over the radio during missions and a huffed "are you ever gonna let me win?" while you're sparring together.

✧ ˖ ° it's not something that's spoken between you two, but you know he'll always be there for you. being the closest in age (and social media knowledge) helps you both to bond quickly and strongly when you join the team, and eventually people start joking that the two of you are attached at the hip. and it's pretty much true; when you aren't together you're texting, sending memes back and forth and talking about how bored or entertained you were in the moment. during missions, you're checking in with each other every few minutes, to the point where simon starts getting annoyed.

✧ ˖ ° price can see it in you the same way he can see it in so many of the recruits that join the military seeking purpose and approval. you're looking for a reason that others will give you to keep going, and he wants to tell you that you need to find your own reason, that you will find your own reason, but it's not something for him to explain. instead, he'll show you a gentleness that he doesn't often show; it's not outright obvious, not enough that others besides probably the rest of the 141 will notice, but it's enough that you'll see it. encouragement and very slowly helping you build your confidence is the road price takes to help you. quiet affirmations after training sessions, positive feedback surrounding the negative, a heavy hand thumping against your back when you do well- price is quiet, but he notices.

✧ ˖ ° as for johnny, well... he's not oblivious, per say, but he'll be somewhere along the "realization scale" close to kyle. it's not something that he's personally worried about himself all that much. johnny knows his talents and capabilities, and the confidence he's built up after a decade in the military is unquestionable. but you haven't had as long as him, as any of them to climb to their level of self-assurance, and he's aware of that much at least.

✧ ˖ ° when he sees you struggling internally with your self-doubt, johnny always swoops in with something to lighten your mood. he brings up that you've mastered a particular move in training already or how impressed he was that you're already able to bring himself down while sparring. johnny sticks near you when he can; he'll eat meals with you and work out with you and just enjoy your company during your free time at the base. if he sees you struggling with something during training, you become certain that he'll always pull you aside after everyone leaves and help you until you've got it down.

✧ ˖ ° as a whole, the men of the 141 task force aren't great at outright reassurance and emotional help. they're hardened soldiers who've proven their worth time and time again, but they know you haven't had a chance to yet. so with their unknowingly combined forces, they'll do their best to make sure you do get that chance, to make sure that you know how much of an irreplaceable and valuable cog in their well-oiled machine you've become.

[prettypinkporkchop]

-3 years ago-

Jake groans while standing up from fixing the new engine in his old red truck. "So, who is Bella?" You ask, picking up a tool and examining it. He smiles at you, grabbing it from your hand. "Just a childhood friend. She hasn't been here or really with Charlie in a long time." He sighs. "Is this someone I should be concerned about?" You raise an eyebrow. He shakes his head and then kisses your forehead. "Nope." He walks away.

---NOW---

Oh, but you should have been worried. He was up her ass. You went from a teen and in love to an adult and watching everything fall apart. All of his friends have separated. Jake and Quil are the last of them. The others joined Sam's gang. That's the last you've seen or heard from them. You moved away for a job that did not feel right.

You park your car in the driveway to your old house. Your eyelids are heavy, considering you've been driving for nearly seven hours. You barely slept the night before because of anxiety. The front door opens, and it's your old guardian.(can be anyone for you).

After settling back into your old bedroom, you climb in the bed and attempt to rest some more. "Y/n! You have a visitor!" You groan and push yourself up.

You walk towards the open front door.

Of course. It's Jacob Black. Short hair and a tattoo. You're not so surprised. You're not even mad about the teenage love drama anymore. You just hope the dude isn't in any drugs or gang related shit because of Sam.

You look up at him and lean on the door frame. "Long time, no see, Black." You smile. He just stands there, staring. It seems like he's in shock. His eyes are wide open, and his eyebrows are raised. "I know. I'm still super hot." You joke. Saying this brings him back, shaking his head and then smiling. "Hey y/n. Small town noise, ya know. I heard you were back, and I just wanted to say 'hi'." He tucks his hands in his pockets. "Thank you? I mean, not that I mind you being here, but why is it important to say hi to me?" You giggle awkwardly. "Also, I'm not mad. We were kids. But, how's your lady, Bella?" He sucks in a breath. "Uh, yeah, about that. She's with the weirdo Edward Cullen. They're married now." He chuckles.

"Oh, I'm sorry." You awkwardly say. Deep down, you're singing JoJo Siwas Karma. But, at the same time, you're over all of it. But truthfully, you don't care. "It's not a problem. I've learned some lessons."

"Yeah, which made you join Sam's gang?" You raise your eyebrow with a smirk. "It's not a gang. It's a lot more than that. No drugs like we thought. We are just helping people and each other."

You don't respond. "Well, how about we catch up? I'm sure my people would love to see you again." He smiles. "Eh, I mean, it'd be nice to see your dad. I just don't want to bring back memories I've worked so hard to let go of." He frowns, and you can see the guilt wash over him. "I have some things to say. I really think it'll be worth your time. Everything will make sense."

You think and then nod, "Okay. When do you want to go?"

He perks up with a grin. "Now, I mean, whenever you are ready!" He pipes up.

"Look who's back. Couldn't stay away from Jake, could you?" Embry nudges you. You roll your eyes. "You haven't changed a bit." You laugh. "Hey! That's the joys of being an imprint. The universe always brings you back."

"Embry." Jacob glares at him. "Imprint? What?" You look at them. Embry raises his eyebrows. "Oh. My bad, cuh." He runs away. "Damn it."

A couple weeks later:

"DAMN IT!" You scream and drop the knife in the sink. A stinging pain runs through your whole hand even though the cut is just your middle finger. Blood drips into the sink. You try to keep it away from the food you are cooking. "What? What is it?" Jacob runs to you. He grabs your arm and looks over your hand. "Oh, baby." He wraps a paper towel around your finger. He kisses the top of your head. "Are you going to be okay?" He anxiously looks over your face. You nod through the pain. It's not deep enough for medical attention.

"Come on." He brings you over to the first aid cabinet. He wraps your finger and kisses your forehead. "I'll finish cooking." He presses a quick kiss to your lips. You lean up and press a lingering kiss on his lips. One that he melts into. He presses your back against the counter and has his hands on your waist.

His phone starts buzzing on the table. "UGH. What the hell." He goes to see who it is. "Bella." He groans and declines the call. "She's been blowing up my phone. Something about Edward getting her pregnant. I don't know. I don't care. It's not my problem." He laughs. You smile at him and walk up to him. You grab onto his shirt and pull him down, attacking his lips.

He groans and bites your bottom lip. "You trying to tell me something?" He breathes out before kissing your neck.

"Mhm."

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for breaking up with my boyfriend because I caught feelings for someone else? Context: I (26 F) had a boyfriend (28 M) of nearly 5 years. We met at the end of my college career and instantly hit it off. We moved in together not that long after we started dating, and things were great. A bit over a year ago, my boyfriend got a new job that requires him to travel a lot. We managed fine for a while, but him being gone for long stretches of time did put a bit of a strain on our relationship. I feel the need to clarify now that I have never had any suspicions of him being unfaithful during his travels. Despite the distance, he continued to be as sweet to me as the day we started dating. We used to do a lot of face time calls when able to, and he would take me out on date nights when he was home. So, at first, it wasn’t too bad. But as time continued, he got busier and busier with his job and had less time to face time me. Well, around 6 or 7 months ago, I ran into an old friend from high school. She (27 F) and I were practically inseparable in high school, but we’d grown apart after we both left for college. It was such a pleasant surprise to learn that she’d recently moved to my area. We’ve spent a lot of time catching up and hanging out in my free time, and she fit in with my friends super well. It was nice to have her as a friend again, especially when I was dealing the physical distance of my boyfriend. She’s honestly so incredibly wonderful and amazing. I really do care deeply about her. Back in high school when we were both single, we were far more affectionate with each other, but since we’ve reconnected she’s actually been super respectful of my boundaries as someone in a relationship. I know that’s the bare minimum but it really does make me happy that she was conscious of that. About a month ago, I got hit with the realization that, somewhere along the line, my feelings for my boyfriend had faded, and I had developed feelings for my friend. The moment I had this realization was when I was sick with a pretty bad cold, and she came over to my place to drop off soup to make sure I had at least something that would make me feel better. After she left, I was left with an immense feeling of guilt. Because suddenly I realized that I had very strong feelings for her, and because I suddenly realized that I may have unknowingly been emotionally cheating on my boyfriend. Of course, the next time he came home from work, I broke the news to him that I felt like we weren’t working out. He was devastated, and I feel really bad, but I feel like it would’ve been worse if I had stayed in the relationship even knowing I had feelings for someone else.

I haven't even brought up my feelings to my friend yet. Because I feel like it would be unfair to my ex-boyfriend to immediately get into another relationship, and also because I think maybe I should allow myself to be single for a while. But I still can’t help but feel like I’m the asshole for essentially emotionally cheating on him. So, AITA?

What are these acronyms?

[punkshort]

Chapter Two

Pairing: Joel x F!Reader, pre-outbreak and post outbreak

AU (the only thing I kept was the outbreak, Joel, and Tommy's characters. Joel's backstory is different, and the way he finds Jackson is different. I may include Ellie one day, I just haven't planned that far)

Fic Summary: You worked for Joel and Tommy a few months before the outbreak. The outbreak happens, and you and Joel get stuck traveling the country and keeping each other safe. Neither of you spoke about the feelings you had for one another pre-outbreak, and in a post-apocalyptic world, it seems like survival should be your only focus. But feelings can't be ignored forever.

Fic tags: Explicit Smut (18+ MDNI), Smut, Language, Canon-Typical Violence, Alcohol Use, Age Difference (Reader is 10 years younger than Joel), slow burn, mutual pining, angst, trauma, SA referencing later but I will put a big warning on those chapters

May 2003

It had been almost a month since you started your new job and you were getting the hang of things quickly. You always prided yourself on learning fast and being an overachiever. Everybody in your department seemed very friendly and helpful, but you really hit it off with Colleen and Debbie, given the proximity of your desks, and your mutual age range. It felt nice to have a couple friends, although you have yet to hang out outside of work, so were they really your “friends”? They had invited you out drinking with them a couple of times, but you politely declined, still feeling a little shy.

You had, however, been spending more time with one of the few men in your department, Justin, who worked in payroll. You could tell he was interested in you as more than just friends, so you weren’t shocked when he asked you out on a date. In a moment of weakness, you agreed, figuring it was about time you got out on the town and had a little fun. Justin was a little taller than you but not by much. He had sandy blonde hair and kind, brown eyes, always clean shaven, and most importantly he was a safe bet. You could tell by the moment you met, he was a mild mannered, sweet guy, very non-threatening. He was easy to get along with, and you hoped with time, maybe you could develop stronger feelings towards him. You haven’t had a boyfriend since college, and you were starting to become lonely. A quiet, sweet guy is just what you thought you needed to shake the dust off.

As far as work went, you were getting rather confident in your abilities in your new role. You were even beginning to learn about some of the company’s clients over the phone when you called requesting payment status on past due invoices. Today was one of those days. You had been on the phone for nearly half an hour with Mr. Sullivan, a client who was behind a few months on his payments.

Miller & Miller was remodeling a few floors of a high rise into office space for Mr. Sullivan’s insurance company, which had been growing exponentially to the point where Mr. Sullivan was having trouble keeping up with all the business, let alone his bills. However, you sadly learned that Mr. Sullivan’s wife had unexpectedly been hospitalized for the past 3 weeks, and you could tell listening to his voice shake over the phone that it was hard for him to talk about. You patiently listened to him and gave gentle words of encouragement when the moments called for it, and at the end of the call he assured you that the check he promised to mail out today would cover all the backed invoices. You hung up the phone, thanking him for addressing the matter, and wished him and his wife well.

“Sheesh, that was a long call, what was that all about?” Colleen asked, craning her neck around the wall of your cubicle. You turned and filled her in on Mr. Sullivan and his wife, and how you had felt bad asking for money when he clearly had just too much going on at the moment. She stood from her desk and entered your cube as you spoke. She was wearing her hair in a ponytail today and a floral skirt with a pink blouse. You started to wonder if all she owned was pink.  It definitely matched her personality. Colleen leaned against the back of your desk as you finished your story, nodding along, brows knit.

"Make sure to fill Heather in before our meeting today, in case Joel asks what the deal is,” she reminded you. You froze for a second, forgetting that today was the department meeting with Joel. It was your first meeting with him, and even the first time laying eyes on him. Having only heard stories for the past month, your imagination was beginning to make this man out to be a big, bad wolf.

“Right,” you nodded, jotting down the reminder on a post-it note. “Good call, thank you. I completely forgot; I should get some notes ready on the other clients I know about.” You chewed your lip nervously, and Colleen picked up on it.

“Don’t stress it! He probably won’t even acknowledge you today, just lay low, and avoid eye contact. Ha, it sounds like I’m describing a how you should act if you see a bear!” She joked, and you gave her a forced laugh in response. Colleen walked back to her desk and you began furiously looking up all of the clients you are familiar with, jotting down notes on your pad for the upcoming meeting that afternoon.

The morning flew by, and Heather was booked with meetings all day. You never got a chance to touch base with her about your notes, so you sent her an email around 11am with all the information you had, praying she would be at her desk at some point before your department meeting with Joel and print it out, at the very least. Still, just in case, you grabbed your notepad as the whole team filed out the door together to the 10th floor conference room after lunch.

Once upstairs, you all settled into a long room with an equally long table, with a huge glass wall that overlooked the city, and another wall with a large TV screen installed so that presentations could be displayed. A conference phone, and a pitcher of water with glasses sat in the center of the long, dark wood table, the Miller & Miller logo emblazoned on the glasses.

Justin settled in the chair next to you. He shot you a shy smile and reassuredly grazed his pinky finger against the back of your hand. You glanced up from the contact and smiled back at him. He was so sweet and gentle, but you were still lacking that spark. It had been a few weeks of you seeing each other several times outside of work. You knew you had to decide soon about this relationship, either take the next step and sleep with him, or end things. You dreaded thinking about the tension in the office if you stop seeing Justin, but the spark just wasn’t there yet.

Heather hurriedly entered the room, taking a seat at one end of the table. You opened your mouth, about to get her attention and ask if she saw your email, when the door swung open behind her and in walked Joel. You snapped your mouth shut and your eyes darted up to finally take him in.

You already picked up on the vibe everyone told you about: he radiated a certain level of irritation across his tanned face. He had an angular nose; and messy, dark curls for hair that somehow also looked styled, and a patchy beard along his jaw, which ticked to the side as he walked. He had dark eyes that did not even bother to sweep over any of you already seated as he made his way to the head of the table. He wore a pair of grey dress pants and a light blue button up shirt, sleeves rolled up to the elbow, showing off toned and tanned forearms. Behind him walked another man, who appeared to be a few years younger than him, hair longer than Joel’s but just as dark. He had a smattering of facial hair, but less so along the sides of his jaw.  He wore a dark black suit with a white shirt, and a blue tie. Tommy – you determined for yourself, as you watched the two men sit next to one another.

Tommy ran his eyes over the group and shot you all a tight smile as he readjusted himself in the chair next to his brother. Joel kept his eyes down on the papers in front of him as he sorted them, still ignoring the presence of everyone else in the room. It was so quiet, you thought everyone could hear your heart hammering in your chest. It appeared nobody planned to speak until Joel decided the meeting began. You averted your gaze from the two brothers and reviewed your notes again for the hundredth time, your stomach twisting in knots over the tension in the room. You snuck a glance back over to Heather at the other end of the table. Her face was stoic and unreadable. She kept her eyes down on her portfolio, placing a calculator next to her on the table, patiently waiting.

Just when you thought you couldn’t take the tension any longer, Joel finally stopped shuffling his papers around and looked up. You tried your best to not look over at him again, the advice about staying below the radar swimming in the back of your head, but something about him was magnetic.  Your head remained tilted downward at your notes, but you found your gaze was slowly making its way along the length of the table, reaching his large and rough looking hands resting on his papers, continuing up his forearms to take in his broad shoulders that looked to be fighting against the fabric of his button down, and finally landed on his face again.  Your eyes widened when you found that his gaze had already been settled on you, and noticed the whole time you were checking him out.

Were you checking him out? Or were you just curious? Shit.

Your eyes darted away and back to your notepad. You felt your pulse quickening in your throat, as you gently swallowed and nervously squirmed in your chair. It was then that Justin discreetly placed a tender hand on your knee, sensing your discomfort. Unbeknownst to you, Justin’s movement hadn’t been all that subtle. Joel saw, and then flicked his eyes away from you, back to Heather.

“Alright, let’s get started, I got a full afternoon so I'd like to keep this short. What're the numbers for month end, let’s see ‘em up on the screen.”

His voice matched his gruff and harsh demeanor. He had a deep baritone, with a slight twang to the way he spoke, which made you think he must have grown up somewhere else but tried to suppress the accent. You did your best to stay focused on the meeting, but your mind kept wandering to Joel, in a way you did not expect before entering the room. You stay tuned into his voice, trying to pick up little hints as to where that accent was from, and you found yourself daydreaming about those large hands, what it would feel like if –

Stop it. Get ahold of yourself, you have a boyfriend! 

You gently shook your head, as if the physical motion would actually make those thoughts go away. You figured you must be losing it; this guy was at least ten years older than you and certainly not the type of man you had been with before, not your type at all. Maybe that’s why he’s in your head.

You had not been paying attention to the meeting well enough, but when you heard the name ‘Sullivan’, it snapped you out of your daydream. Joel repeated himself, with an edge to his voice now, staring Heather down from across the table, hands twitching on his papers.

“How the hell have we let this guy get away with 3 weeks of unpaid invoices?” he growled. “I am alternatin’ two crews a day on that job of his, I ain’t gonna waste another minute of my time if he can’t be bothered –“ Suddenly, a voice cut him off.

“He is mailing a check today, for the entire balance due on his account.”

The whole room fell silent. You wondered for a moment what the big deal was, why everyone was looking at you like that, until you realized you said those words. You gulped, scared to look at Joel. You felt the heat from his gaze burning a hole in the side of your head. You kept your eyes glued to your fingers, which were fidgeting in your lap. You were fucked. Not only did you do exactly what your co-workers told you not to do, but you interrupted the man who runs the entire company. A man known for bursts of rage that made people cry and quit. You braced yourself, waiting for the worst, but it never came. It felt like an eternity went by without a word spoken, until finally Joel broke the silence.

“That’s great, sweetheart, but unless I got a check in my hand, promises don’t mean shit. There’s no reason this guy should be jerkin' us around, I’m gonna go down to the site today and pull my guys til we got that check.” He turned his attention back to Heather, ready to move onto the next topic.

You still had yet to look up at him until now. Something in you was still hung up on the way Mr. Sullivan sounded on the phone, the story he gave you about his wife broke your heart. The words Debbie said on your first day about ‘this company is not saving lives’ rushed back through your head, and suddenly you felt this switch flip. The company made record profits last month, and this customer was a real human being who needed to be shown some compassion. Maybe you were naïve, but it felt so cruel to just assume everyone who skips out on their bills is a crook. Before you could give it another thought, your eyes shot up and locked onto his.

“I don’t think that’s necessary,” you stated firmly, noticing in your peripheral some of your co-workers shifting uncomfortably and exchanging glances. “If you care to know, his wife has been in the hospital for three weeks fighting an infection the doctors can’t seem to fix. He’s got his hands full, he apologized profusely to me this morning and I believe he is sending us that check. If you prefer, I can go down to his office and pick up the check myself.”

A part of you couldn’t believe you said that, and not only that but said it with such resolve, your voice not even faltering. You refused to break eye contact with Joel, no matter how intimidating and uncomfortable it felt. His eyes bored into yours, his jaw clenched, and two of his fingers began to gently tap on the table in front of him. You kept it together and continued to look him dead in the eyes. You felt butterflies in your stomach begin to work their way into a frenzy, and the sweat started to accumulate on the back of your neck. You briefly wished you had worn your hair up so your neck could get more air. Your cheeks started to feel warm under his gaze, but you couldn’t back down now.

Finally, Joel gave his answer.

"Fine. But if we don’t get that check, it’s comin’ out of your paycheck.” He looked away and started asking Heather about more financial reporting, but you had no idea what was said exactly. Your head rushed with blood pounding in your ears. As the adrenaline washed away, you wanted to get up and use the restroom to collect yourself, but you could not give Joel the satisfaction of getting under your skin.

Thankfully, the meeting only went for a few more minutes. Your team gathered their things and quickly exited the conference room. By happenstance, you were the last to file out. You don’t know why, but as you walked through the door, you shot Joel one more glance over your shoulder. He leaned back in his chair, his eyes glued to your retreating form. They no longer looked hardened, but they showed a glimmer of something else, like amusement.

After you left the room, Joel’s eyes remained stuck on the empty doorway. He and Tommy were the only two that remained at the table. Tommy whistled lowly and leaned forward to catch Joel’s attention.

“She’s a sparkplug, wonder who she is, I don’t remember seein' her before,” Tommy said to Joel, who finally tore his eyes away from the doorway and looked at his brother. “Maybe I should find out what her deal is.”

“Her deal?” Joel nearly spit out, anger flaring in his belly.

Your “deal”? Your deal was clear as day to him – the Ken doll next to you marked his territory the first moment he got. The guy who looked like he couldn’t change a tire and probably never raised his voice in his whole life. The guy who likely skated by on looks, and never bothered to focus on a personality. Joel knew the Ken doll worked here for a while, but he couldn’t remember his name. It didn’t matter, anyway. Why was he even thinking about this?

“Yeah, her ‘deal,’” Tommy emphasized the last word for dramatic effect and rolled his eyes. He stood up from his chair. “She’s pretty. And she seems fiery. I like that.”

Tommy lifted his eyes from the papers in his hand to grin at his brother, who was scowling in return.

"What’s the problem? I can’t have a little fun?” he sulked, his grin slowly disappearing.

“No, I don’t think you should be screwin’ our employees, Tommy. You run this company with me, what the hell does that say about us?” Joel stood up and looked him in the eye to show he wasn’t joking. 

“Aw, come on, Joel, it doesn't got to mean anythin'. I’ve done it before, it’s never caused a problem.” Tommy’s gaze turned back towards the door you had just left, his thoughts clouded with the last image of you. Joel’s anger began to flare.

"I don’t care, you leave her alone.” he replied. He snatched up his paperwork from the meeting and brushed past Tommy, exiting the room and heading towards his office. Tommy jogged up behind him, as the realization hit.

"Oh shit, you got a thing for her?” Tommy teased, and nudged Joel with his elbow once he caught up. “Why didn’t you just say that? I won’t go near her, give you a decent shot at ropin’ her in,” he laughed, but Joel stopped in his tracks, which caused Tommy to stumble and turn around in surprise.

"I ain’t got a thing for her, I just don’t think you should be screwin’ the women around here. Sets a bad example, is all.” Joel huffed and picked up his pace once more, turning into his office.

The room was massive. It was the biggest office in the building, although Tommy’s was only smaller by about 75 square feet. The office had the greatest view over the hustle and bustle of the city. It had a couple of velvet navy couches off to the corner that were surrounded by a glass coffee table for when he entertained clients or other executives in the company, and a small mini bar in the other corner, which also housed a coffee machine. Joel rounded his desk, which was stationed so it was overlooking the fantastic city view. He sat down in the plush desk chair and looked up to find Tommy standing on the other side, who was clearly not satisfied with the conversation.

“Alright, brother, I’ll let it go. I don’t believe you, but I’ll let it go.” Tommy suppressed a small smile as he turned to leave the office. “Oh, but one more thing,” Tommy stopped in the doorway and waited until he had Joel’s attention again. “She’s definitely got a thing for you. I saw the way she was lookin’ at you, I’m not stupid.” And with that, Tommy exited to return to his own office, satisfied with the impact he made, and left Joel once again staring at an empty doorway.

Joel let a small smile spread across his face now that he was alone, glad he didn’t misread the way he caught you looking at him. 

You managed to get back to your desk without saying a word to anyone. The entire elevator car had been dead silent. When you sat down in your chair, you felt like your heart rate had finally returned to normal and your head was feeling less fuzzy. You shook your computer mouse to bring the machine back to life and tapped in your password. ‘Incorrect password’ flashed on the screen, so you tried again. It took three tries for you to slow down enough and enter in the password correctly.

OK, so maybe you were still rattled.

As you waited for your computer to log back in and load all your open programs, you closed your eyes and rested your face in the palms of your hands, elbows resting on the top of your desk.

You jumped when you felt a gentle squeeze on your shoulder and whipped around to find Justin standing next to you with his hands held up in mock surrender.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you, just wanted to check and see how you were doing,” he gave a sweet smile and stretched out his hand once again, caressing your shoulder. You sighed, giving a weak smile in return.

"I’m fine,” you said, “I don’t know what got into me, I shouldn’t have said anything.”

It was then that Debbie, who had clearly been waiting for a chance to interrupt, came around the corner.

“Don’t sweat it, girl. That was nothing, you must have caught him on a good day. That was probably the nicest I’ve ever seen him.” She assured you, leaning casually up against your cubical wall. You gave a shaky laugh, which she returned and said “I’m only kind of kidding, though. He was in a good mood, maybe he finally got laid last night.” 

Colleen came over after listening to the voicemail she had waiting for her.

"Ha, I doubt it. Nobody’s seen him with anyone for years, not since Amy left him.”

“Who’s Amy?” you asked curiously. You were surprised Colleen never shared this bit of gossip with you before.

“Amy’s his ex-fiancée. They broke up right around the time I started, so I guess that would have been 5 years ago now? Anyway, no one knows what happened, other than it made Joel the guy you saw today. Well, he was pretty tame today, but you know what I mean,” explained Colleen. “He’s been grumpy ever since.”

You all froze when you heard the electronic keypad on the other side of your locked door, indicating someone was entering the department. Colleen and Debbie quickly went back to their respective desks. Justin valiantly stayed by your side, although it was likely he stayed only because his desk was so far away, it would have been obvious he was fleeing by the time the person entered the room.

Heather pushed the door open, immediately made eye contact with you, heading in your direction. She gave you an apologetic smile once she got to the opening of your cube.

"I’m so sorry, I just saw that email from this morning, that was completely my fault, I should have been the one to handle that. How are you doing?”

Relieved she wasn’t mad at you for speaking up, you smiled back, your confidence returning.

"I’m good, really. It wasn’t that bad. I think I just got in my head about it because of the stories I’ve heard, I thought it would be worse.”

“Honestly, it usually is worse. He must have taken a liking to you. I had a voicemail waiting for me when I got back to my desk, he wanted to know who you were. He wasn’t mad, just didn’t recognize you. He wants you let him know personally when that check comes from Mr. Sullivan. I can go with you to his office when the time comes, don’t worry, I won’t throw you to the wolves!” she said with a chuckle.

You could feel the tips of your ears getting hot at the prospect of seeing Joel again so soon. You had thought you would have another month to recover. You nodded in acknowledgement, and with that, Heather bid the department farewell, late for another meeting. Justin looked back down at you once Heather left.

"Hey, I have an idea. Why don’t we go camping this weekend? There’s a great spot I like to go to just outside the city, it’s fantastic when you need to clear your head, and the weather is supposed to be perfect. What do you think?”

You figured why not. Camping wasn’t your favorite thing in the world, but it was something to do. Plus, you had to give more attention to this relationship and decide which fork in the road you were going to take.

That weekend, after having a few glasses of wine with the picnic Justin packed for you two, you did the last thing you could think of to summon up any strong feelings for your boyfriend.  As Justin sloppily thrusted inside of you while you laid spread out in a field of wildflowers, all you could think of when you closed your eyes was strong, calloused hands gripping the side of your hip and a rough, patchy beard rubbing along your jaw.

Once you returned from the trip, you gently ended things with Justin.

Chapter Three

[fir3ylolol]

sleepless in seattle

pairing: Johnny Cage x Reader

summary: johnny's been filming a new movie, which means you haven't seen him much lately. but he shows up at your door, half asleep and about to fall over

a/n: fluffffff! it's fun to mix it up and not write smut all the time lol. hope yall like this little taste of cute

word count: 909

Ao3

You watch your phone as it lights up on the arm of your couch. You pick it up to see Johnny’s familiar contact photo, a selfie of the two of you at his last movie premiere. You feel bittersweet. It’s been a long time since you guys hung out. He’s been really busy filming for his newest movie, which requires most of his time lately. He took a directorial position, as well as producer and main actor. It’s a lot, but it was his dream opportunity, and he couldn’t pass it up. His text is letting you know that he just got off work and was headed home. It was 11 pm, and you know he got there at 5 am. You felt bad, wishing you could help him more and be there for him. But you send a quick “drive safe, i love you, i miss you” before setting your phone back down to continue getting ready for bed.

It’s been about 10 minutes, as you getting settled in bed. But you suddenly hear a knock at the door, so light you get scared. You slowly walk over, looking through the peephole nervously. But your nerves are immediately eased, seeing Johnny standing there, slightly swaying back and forth. You open the door, ready to welcome him in after missing him for so long. But he stumbles in, falling forward onto you. You brace yourself, holding him up with all your might. “Hi love, you ok?” You quietly say as you strain against him. But he starts his stumbles again, walking to your bedroom with dragging feet. As you lock your door, you start feeling worried again. Not of what’s outside, but of how overworked he was taking this project on. But you shake it off, grab a glass of water, and walk into the bedroom. And there he was, splayed out on the bed, already half asleep. You sigh, setting down the glass and crouching down. One by one, you help him get comfortable, removing his shoes, socks, pants, and shirt. The last of which requires you to flip him over a bit, which you manage to do with little effort.

But you climb onto the bed to your usual spot, and Johnny pulls himself behind you, shuffling over to your side. He latches himself to you, both arms around you and one leg over you. He gets cold very easily, and the lack of clothes certainly isn’t helping. You are well and truly trapped under him, but it’s nice. Warm. You wiggle an arm out and play with his hair, a satisfied sigh escaping his lips. “Long day?” He nods, holding you closer. “Oh baby, I’m so sorry. You know, my day hasn’t been that good either…” Before you realize it, you’ve been talking about your day for a very long time. The good, the bad, even just what you had to eat.

You look down to see his bleary looking up at you, struggling to stay open. “Oh Johnny, I’m sorry, did I keep you up?” He smiles, nuzzling into you, “Maybe, but it’s nice. Comforting.” You kiss the top of his head, and he hums happily. You continue talking, but whispering this time, smoothing down his hair and holding him tight. You watch as he slowly falls asleep, breathing heavily and grasp on you going limp. You take a minute just to look at him, uncharacteristically dark eye bags and disheveled hair. He looks so unlike himself, that you know he needed this. You fall asleep shortly after him, his presence is comforting.

You open your eyes as the sunlight hits them directly. You rub your eyes and look at Johnny, who is surprisingly still asleep. He tends to be a morning person, but as you turn to grab your phone, you see that it’s 10 a.m. He’s slept for nearly 12 hours now, and you don’t want to wake him yet. He needs as much sleep as he can get. So you worm your way out of his grasp slowly, pausing each time he takes a deeper breath. You make your way into the kitchen, starting to make some eggs and sausage. As you pour a cup of coffee, you see a blanketed form shuffling in, sniffling and yawning. “Good morning love, sleep good?” You place a plate in front of him and kiss the top of his head. He smiles up at you sleepily, managing to croak out, “Yeah, I slept good with you there. You’re really comfy, you know?” You sit next to him, taking a sip of your coffee, “I try my hardest to be. Do you have to work again today?” He groans through his bite of eggs, “Ugh, don’t bring it up. I have to be there at 9.” You choke on your coffee, looking at him sheepishly, “It’s…already past 10. I’m sorry, you looked so peaceful!” He pauses, face blank, before placing his head on the table with another groan. He picks his head back up, a wide smile on his face, “Ok, then I’m here today.” You look at him confused, trying to figure out what he meant. “I’m not going in, it’s too late, they’ve probably already sent everyone home. So, what do you wanna do?” You smile, kissing his cheek and whispering in his ear, “Wanna stay home all day and watch movies?” He smiles back at you, kissing your lips. “Fuck yes.”

[frenchkisstheabyss]

❄️ Pairing: ot8!stray kids x reader

❄️ Genre: fluffy fluff

❄️ A/N: I haven't really been in a festive mood this holiday season but then I got this request and it was such a stinkin cute idea that now I'm feeling a lil merry and bright so I'm really happy that I got it. As always, hope ya'll like it.

❄️ Bang Chan ❄️

Chan wastes no time trying to cheer you up, insisting that it's really not that big of a deal. "It's not bad. There's nothing wrong with food being a little well done, yeah?" He's the first to make a plate, complimenting you every few bites. You tell him that he doesn't have to eat it, you don't even wanna eat it, but he doesn't stop until his plate's clean. With all of the work you put into cooking, he could never let your efforts go to waste. Next year though, he'll totally be in the kitchen helping you. For bonding purposes...of course.

❄️ Changbin ❄️

Binnie's already doing what he can to make the food edible before you even have time to go into meltdown mode over burning everything. The thought of letting you trash it never crosses his mind. If it takes him ten minutes to pick off the burnt parts he'll do it. It means a lot to him that you cooked Christmas dinner so he'll go to whatever lengths he must to get it down. God forbid any of the others hesitate for too long or outright refuse to touch it. "Eat it or I'll kill you! Uh, I mean, eat it. It's good." He's not being nice when he says that either. He actually ends up liking it.

❄️ Hannie ❄️

Han's part of the reason that you ended up burning the food. He has 1001 different thing he wants to do with you and he wants to do all of them while you're cooking dinner. You find yourself hanging ornaments and decorating gingerbread houses when you should be keeping an eye on the stove. He feels guilty for distracting you so he grabs a fork and shoves as much food into his cheeks as he can fit. You can't quite make out much besides "Delicious" and "Mmm" between his aggressive chewing but that only makes it more adorable. How could you be mad at that face?

❄️ Lino ❄️

Lino's reaction alerts the entire house that you've burned Christmas dinner. "Oh my gooooosh!" he gasps, going from dish to dish like a judge on one of those food competitions. You've never seen anyone side eye your food this hard. Sensing that you might be upset, he quickly switches gears and tries to act excited to eat. He even helps make plates for the others before disappearing with his own. He lies and says he ate it, that it was the best thing ever. He didn't and you know that but Lino doesn't usually protect feelings so you find it sweet that he does it for you.

❄️ Hyunjin ❄️

Hyunjin shows no signs of concern when he lines up to grab his plate. The holiday season has him feeling more hyper than usual, nearly putting him in Han territory, so he's your #1 cheerleader. "Food looks good" he sings, doing a happy dance on his way to the table. Actually eating the food is a different story though. His facial expressions always betray him and it's impossible to ignore the regret seeping through his forced smile. He really appreciates you, thanking you a bunch for cooking, but for sure spits the food out into a napkin or two. Or three.

❄️ Felix ❄️

Felix immediately gives you a hug, telling you not to feel bad about it. Christmas isn't about the food. It's about the experience of being together afterall, isn't it? He tries to distract you by asking about the different dishes you've made. "A family recipe? Oh, that's beautiful. From your mom or..." Of course, his endless rambling is meant to make you feel more comfortable. At least mostly. A small part of it is to take attention away from the fact that he's only been pretending to nibble at his food which is fine. He makes up for it by volunteering for clean up duty.

❄️ I.N ❄️

Innie stares at his plate in shock, not quite sure what to make of it. He performs surgery with his utensils, picking apart the food in an attempt to decipher what's what. After a minute or so of silence, he has a sudden revelation. "You're a genius! Why didn't I think of this?" Somehow, he has it in his head that you did this on purpose to avoid being chosen to cook in the coming years and he thinks you're the coolest person in the world for trying to game the system. All of this while scrolling his phone for takeout places cause he's still gotta eat and it still won't be what you made.

❄️ Seungmin ❄️

Seungmin doesn't even make it out of the kitchen with his plate. He takes one look at it and scrapes it into the trash. "You want me to starve! What did I ever do to you?" With his stomach grumbling, he makes his way over to one of the gingerbread houses and dismantles it to create his own makeshift dinner. He may tease you about it for a bit, acting pouty over the fact that he hasn't eaten all day but once he's done pouting he makes you come eat with him. Who needs a traditional dinner when you have the shambles of some gingerbread man's estate to devour?