#he’s doing his absolute best 💜💜💜

[chloesimaginationthings]

I drew a picture of your Michael!

I LOVE IT!! NERVOUS GUY,,

[sollucets]

veiled zhou zishu

[uhbasicallyjustmilex]

words can’t express how much i love him, his courage and fearlessness of expression in everything he creates is pure magic 🖤

[cherry-bomb-ships]

OH btw I watched the first episode of the powerpuff girls and Mojo jojo’s voice is so so cool!!! @lficanthaveloveiwantpower

AAAAAH OMG OMG ISN'T HE THE COOLEST 💖💖💖💖💖 What's funny about that first episode is that the VA, Roger L. Jackson was still figuring out his voice for Mojo, so its actually a bit awkward compared to later episodes. So if you thought he sounded cool there, just imagine how he sounds later on!! >w< 💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖

[the-kipsabian]

i feel like my entire agenda on this site now is just to make people understand what an important figure kip sabian is tbh

[psychedelic-ink]

'𝐦𝐲 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 𝐧𝐨𝐰.

pairing: contractor!joel miller x f!reader

genre: no outbreak au, modern au, explicit smut, minors dni

word count: 3k

summary: joel is used to asshole clients, and when one of them calls him an old man and basically demands him to finish his girlfriend's kitchen in time, he expects you to be the same. But you're the opposite. when he learns how you've been treated, he comes up with a plan to get back at your boyfriend.

warnings: hints of reader being in a toxic relationship, age gap, daddy kink, piv, dirty talk , revenge sex and filming it, infidelity (reader cheating on her bf), praise kink

a/n: This was completely spontaneous, normally I was going to finish one of the haunted hoedown entries but I saw a ✨ s p i c y ✨ video and instantly got up to write this because that video was something else I tell you. Sucks that they don't credit those things on twitter so I can find more of the guy he was also older hence the age gap fgbgfbf

thank you to @johnwatsn for beta'ing this (and sorry for all the typos lmaodfbfg) and thank you to @pedrorascal for the stunning gif 💜

“I’m not paying extra if you do overtime, old man. You said a week and you’ll finish in a week. I don’t care if your knees hurt or you have a heart attack in the middle of hammering a nail—you finish my girlfriend’s kitchen in time. Got it?”  

Joel had a lot of unpleasant customers. John was just one of many but his comment had stuck with him. And it wasn’t the rude comments or the tone that basically told Joel that John thought of him as dog shit; no, it was none of that. It was the old man that had bugged him. The hissed comment of his age slithering under his skin and agitating his body. 

Joel knew that it only bothered him because it was true. He was an old man. His daughter in her last year of college, doing her absolute best and growing while he was getting old. His skin creasing at the eyes every time he laughed and his hair more salt than pepper. 

The thoughts continuing to swirl in his head, with a sigh, he knocks on the door of John’s girlfriend, expecting a woman as equally as unpleasant and demanding. 

You’re far from what he expected. Your smile is bright, your eyes kind and lips looking soft and shiny. Joel has trouble gathering himself when you extend a hand, not a care in the world. His eyes drop to where your sweetheart neckline pushes your breasts together, slightly spilling over the fabric. His mouth goes dry, cock twitching under the denim. 

Guess some parts of him didn’t get the memo that he was an old man now. 

“Joel, right?” you ask, voice unsure and timid. Your eyes gradually take in the height of him, moving to explore the broadness of his shoulders and stopping at his eyes. “John mentioned you.” 

Joel’s stomach suddenly turns sour, it’s enough for him to snap out of the sudden lustful gaze he found himself in. He grabs your hand, giving it a firm squeeze. “That’s right. Joel Miller at your service, ma’am.” 

He might be imagining it, but he swears your breath hitches just a little when he takes your hand. 

“How chivalrous,” you smile and move to the side. “Come on in, Mr. Miller.” 

“Joel is just fine,” he grunts, reminded of the old-age comment. How young were you, he wonders. Late twenties, early thirties? He has no idea. He’s also not sure if he wants to know. 

You close the door behind him and nod, “Alright then Joel,” you step in front of him, walking towards what he assumes is the kitchen. Joel dutifully follows. “I’m sure John told you about what needs to be done, so hopefully you don’t have any questions.” 

He raises an eyebrow at that, confusion swirling in his expression. You don’t turn to look at him, entering the kitchen, you continue, “I had something else in mind originally but he told me to trust him so... I guess that’s what I’m doing now.” 

“That don’t sound right,” Joel mumbles. He gives the area a once over, he sees a lot of pink, clean, and polished furniture. The windows are large, allowing the sun to bathe everything within. He vaguely remembers John mentioning a dark, minimalist look but he wasn’t really listening at the time. “Isn’t this your kitchen?” 

Your shoulders raise at his question and you finally turn to face him, kind eyes now tainted with a hint of sadness, “It’s going to be our kitchen soon. He probably thinks it’s too girly.” 

“That’s no reason to leave you out of the design process,” Joel answers, taking a step closer. You smile helplessly with a shrug, your eyes dropping to his lips before averting them. His pulse races, something wicked forming in his head. He stops an inch away from you, a mere breeze would’ve been enough for your bodies to touch but he keeps still and so do you. You’re flustered, he can tell. “You wanna tell me what you had in mind?” 

Your eyes briefly go wide, something like shame crossing your face but the expression is quickly replaced by understanding, “Oh the design,” you murmur, voice barely a whisper. “I honestly would’ve loved some more counter room since I love to bake.” 

“Well, you’re in luck darlin’ because I don’t remember much of the details your boyfriend gave me,” he smiles when your brows furrow with confusion. “Meanin’ you have to lead me with the design.” 

He swears your smile is the brightest damn thing he’s seen in a long while. 

It’s the last day of the constructions in your kitchen but you’re not thinking of the new kitchen counter or the new cupboard, all you’re thinking of is Joel’s proposition, and how you were soaked with just the mere thought of it. 

You and Joel had grown close during the time he fixed up your kitchen. Surprisingly, you actually went with the design you initially wanted and not the one John had in mind. You knew it would lead to a fight and some part of you was glad—John was meant to be perfect but it was only on paper. He was a dream boat when in public and amongst friends, but alone? Not a chance. He belittled you, hated almost all your hobbies and always made unnecessary comments on what you looked like. 

Despite yourself, you had blabbed all of that to Joel. He made you feel safe, and the fact that he was very pleasant to look at helped. He didn’t say much but you could tell that he was livid, which secretly made you pleased. It was good to see that how John treated you wasn’t actually the norm. 

You loved watching him work. The way sweat would slide all the way down to his neck and how his muscles would tense, straining the fabric of his shirt. 

He told you about how John had treated him, confessed he thought you would be the same. Your insides had boiled with anger. You apologized profusely and he just shook it off, saying it wasn’t your fault. 

Then the kiss had happened. 

It had happened on a particularly bad day. You were upset, filled with negative emotions to the brim and all you wanted was unconditional comfort. You kissed him, he didn’t stop you until your hand reached for his belt. 

“I wanna show that asshole how amazin’ you are,” he had said. “Will you let me?” 

At the time you hadn’t known what he meant by that. 

But now you do. 

“Look into the camera, sweetheart,” he murmurs, mouth pressed against your ear. You shudder, your bare body feeling good against his, like you were made for him. Your pussy throbs and drools all over his cock that slides agonizingly slow between your folds. You try to do as he says but it’s just too hard when your eyes are constantly on the brink of rolling back into your skull. He drags his lips down your neck as his large hands knead your breasts, your nipples achingly hard. “Don’t make me say it again, honey. Don’t make me be mean when you’re such a good girl.” 

“Oh, fuck—” your body shudders, lashes fluttering as you stare right into the camera with a lost expression. You see yourself, Joel right behind you. You don’t know how but he looks even taller while his body splays over yours, bending you over. He presses his palm over your forehead, forcing the arch of your back. Your inner thighs are soaked, his cock moving between your legs. You see the flash of the glistening head every time he rocks himself forward. 

He looks into the camera and your entire body clenches with want, “Look at that,” he hums, laving your neck in open-mouthed wet kisses. “Your girlfriend already going stupid with my cock. Not so bad for an old man huh?” 

Joel’s lips stretch menacingly, eyes shining  with amusement. Letting go of your forehead, he pushes both your tits closer to the camera, thumbs moving over the pebbled flesh. You moan loudly and your legs quiver. 

“Sweet thing over here tells me you don’t let her ride you—I thought you were a dumbass before but now I think you’re a downright moron. Fuckin’ hell, who wouldn’t want such an eager thing jumpin’ up and down his cock.” 

You whimper, eyes going teary. Your heart races wildly in your chest. “J—Joel, please. . .” 

“Hear  that, John,” he growls, the tremble of each word reverberating into your skin. “She’s beggin’ for my cock. Ain’t that right, darlin’?” 

You nod but it’s not enough for him, not enough for Joel. “Don’t be shy now, tell him. He ever got you this wet?” 

“N-No,” you breathe out and maniacally shake your head. “N-Never.” 

“Poor thing,” he clicks his tongue. “Poor poor thing. Don’t worry, daddy’s got you now. Doesn’t he?” 

“Yes,” you slur, pushing back your hips. “Fuck me, fuck me—Fuck me, daddy, please.” 

“Say it again,” his teeth sink into your skin. “One more and I’ll fuck you.” 

“Daddy,” you moan, eyes rolling back. “Daddy, need you, need your cock. Fuck me, please.” 

He hums in satisfaction, “Well, since you asked so darn nicely,” Joel kisses your temple and his lips move over your skin as he speaks to the camera, “Looks like she’s my girl now, my good girl.” 

When he buries himself into you, inch by inch, your jaw goes slack and your nipples go tight. You forget about the camera, about John who’ll see this. You only think of him. He stretches you to your very limit, his cock thick and hard. It takes you everything not to move your hips. You want Joel to tell you what to do. You want him to fuck you so good that your mind will go blank as you start bouncing on his cock. His one hand grips your waist firmly as the other remains underneath your breast, the sensitive flesh spilling over his hand while holding you. 

“How does it feel?” he murmurs into your ear, his cruel teasing from earlier gone. 

“Good,” you whimper, squeezing him tight. “So fucking good, the biggest I’ve ever had.” 

“Fuck, darlin’,” he kisses the skin behind your ear. “Such a filthy mouth on such an innocent lookin’ girl. You were wasted on that jackass.” 

He knocks the air from your lungs before you can answer. The drag of his cock like lightning searing your skin. He fucks you hard, almost angrily, but you know it’s not directed at you. Never at you. The smack of his balls against your ass fills the bedroom, and you’re positive the phone is recording every wet, filthy sound. It doesn’t take much for Joel to reduce you into a withering mess, every word forgotten, his hips relentless as he fucks deeper and deeper into you. 

Then suddenly you’re tilting back, his arm an anchor around your stomach as you find yourself between his thighs sitting on his lap. Your eyes move to the screen, you look perfect between his legs, the muscles tensing and flexing as he grinds his hips. Your skin pleasantly burns. 

“Come on, sweetheart, show him what he’s been missin’ out on.” 

Joel leans back, palm planted firmly on your mattress with pretty pink flowers that John hates. 

Your body takes control, your brain swimming in a fog of lust and pleasure. You grip his thick thighs, bracing yourself, you begin to move up and down his cock. He fills you beautifully. His gaze is fixed on the tiny camera, staring directly into it as you try your best to please him. Arousal coils tight in your stomach. Your breasts sway with your every move, your body coating him in shiny slick. 

“A throne for a princess,” he groans, eyes moving from the camera to your reflection on the screen. Fire burns down your spine. His gaze and presence alone choking the air from your lungs. You twist yourself to get a better look at him, catching his gaze momentarily, you moan wantonly at the sight. Him only sitting, relaxed while you’re breaking down sends jolts of electricity up and down your spine. You sit wholly, grinding down while keeping his cock buried deep inside, searching for that devastating spot inside you. 

The world around you becomes a bright white when you do. 

Your ears start ringing, and you begin to shake, legs clamp together as you shudder around the length of him. A choked sound between laughter and bewilderment tears from your throat. Your body moves of its own accord now, helplessly bouncing on his cock, the bulbous head grazing against a certain spot that just makes you want more and more and more—

“Yes yes yes yes,” you chant. Joel’s head disappears from view everytime you move up. You hear his moans, they become louder and louder, his southern drawl becoming prominent the more fucked out he gets. 

His sounds only spur you on, making you ride him harder, sweat beading at your tailbone. Your pussy swallows him hungrily, every inch of him without protest. While you’re absolutely lost on his cock, you notice him tilting his head so he’s in view again. You hold your breath. His mouth parts, the tip of his tongue touching the corner of his lips, he gives the camera a taunting look. Joel’s expression turns into a half smile and he wraps his arms around you. One going over right above your breasts and the other around your stomach. His hand cups the side of your neck. He drags his mouth down and up your cheek. 

“Come on, pretty girl,” he rasps, kissing you. You look to the camera, hips slowing but not stopping. “Yes, pretty girl, just like that,” another kiss. “Look at that pretty girl getting fucked.” 

Joel squeezes your breast as  his arm comes down, both of them now tight around your stomach. You feel him pulsing deep inside you. His voice is thick with arousal. “Look how beautiful you are on my dick. Don’t you agree, sweetheart?” 

You nod and grind against him, loving how deep he feels. He kisses your neck, tongue tracing shapes into your skin as both his hands come up to your tits and squeezes them, the plump flesh spilling from between his knuckles. His lips move down your shoulder and back up your neck, following the same path over and over again, decorating it with slow kisses. 

Joel gives the camera one last look before disappearing behind you,  fingers sprawled over your stomach and down between your legs. You feel the rough hairs between your shoulder blades first, then the softness of his lips follows through. Your eyes flutter closed and your head falls back, his mouth is so goddamn soft, the skin tingling and burning at the same time. 

His hips snap up, and with the sudden movement, a fresh wave of wetness coats his cock. You lean forward, face closer to the camera, while he lays back, watching hungirly at the way your ass moves. 

“Yeah, just like that,” he groans, smacking both your asscheeks simultaneously. 

Then before you know it he’s moving, pressing you fully over the table in front of you, the phone shaking as he begins to hammer into you. You can’t even see what you look like anymore, your head dropping, you cry out his name. If it wasn’t for his hands on your hips, you would’ve collapsed to the ground. 

“That’s it, come on my cock,” he nips at your shoulders. “Fuck, you’re so fucking wet—can you hear that? Can you hear how fuckin’ soaked your girlfriend is on an old man’s cock?” 

It takes you a second to realize he’s not talking to you, but the camera. You flutter around him, squeezing him tight enough that he moans, hips slowing. “Daddy,” you gasp. And with that, you finally let go, cunt gushing around him, coating him with slick. Joel peppers your back with soft, quick kisses, whispering praise between every kiss. 

“That’s it, sweetheart, bet you never came that hard before. Good girl—my good fuckin’ girl, wettin’ my cock so well.” 

You tighten and gush around him a second time, you swear by how hard you’re clenching your insides most likely have taken the shape of him. 

“Where do you want me?” he whispers into your skin. Words coming muffled and hoarse, dripping slow like molasses. You push back against him, looking into the camera with a small smile. 

“Inside me, daddy, please.” 

“Oh shit—” he picks up the pace, the thrust of his hips sloppy and needy. “Shit shit shit—so fuckin’ perfect, so good for allowin’ this old man to wreck her good—So good for tellin’ me to fill her up—fuck—” 

You’re blindsided by how honest he suddenly is, the rasp of his voice going straight between your legs. His hips stutter and Joel comes with a loud, thick moan, spilling into you. You moan right alongside him. He continues to rock into you with shallow thrusts, laying kisses on every patch of skin his lips can reach. 

While you’re lost in complete bliss, he reaches around you and grabs the phone, stopping the recording before collapsing back to the bed, pulling you along with him. 

“You feel so good,” he says, cock softening inside. You feel his come trickling down from between your thighs and shiver. 

“You feel good too,” you say, wrapping your arms around him and covering his lips with your own. “I don’t think I’ve ever come that hard.” 

“Guess this old man still has some tricks up his sleeve,” he chuckles weakly and you press another kiss, this time on his cheek. “We don’t have to by the way.” 

“Don’t have to what?” 

“Send the video.” 

You stare at the phone for a second, brows furrowed as you think. Then with a quick shrug, you turn back to him. “Nah, let him see it. I could’ve forgiven how he treated me but not you.” 

He clicks his tongue with disapproval, “You shouldn’t forgive him for how he treated you either, darlin’. You deserve better.” 

“Well, I guess you’re just going to have to prove it me then,” you smile and with a sudden impulse, boop his nose. He laughs, nipping the pad of your finger. 

“I guess I will.”  

[merbear25]

Hello!! Can you do asking Buggy, Mihawk, and Crocodile who’s the prettiest girl in the world??

Hey, hello! So, I feel like this question can be interpreted in two ways: you wanting to be called a pretty girl, and you asking them like they’re a puppy… I came at it from the latter. Hope you like what I’ve written for you.💜💜

CW: SFW, gn!reader, headcanons, some fluff, smidge of humor

Who’s the prettiest girl? (Cross Guild)

Buggy

His face turned tomato red both from embarrassment and flattery.

The way his breath caught in his throat made him sound like a snorting bulldog.

The audacity of it all! He was a grown man, an intimidating man, an emperor!

His face twisted into a pout the longer you looked at him with absolutely no malice or ill intentions in your presence—just adoration for him.

Sinking into his armchair, he grumbled a bit. “I am…” he murmured.

“Hm? What was that?” You teased.

“I am!” He huffed loudly.

You threw your arms around him and gave him the cuddle he was secretly after upon confessing that he was, indeed, the prettiest girl.

Mihawk

He blinked at you.

When he took a bit longer to respond than you’d anticipated, you felt like shrinking into your skin as the awkwardness you were creating dawned on you.

“You are,” he said flatly.

Your lips quivered a bit and you let out a soft, “Aww.”

When you inched closer, he could tell what you wanted from that sweet look upon your face. 

He opened his arms and gave you that hug you clearly wanted.

As he rubbed your back gingerly, you blurted, “I am the prettiest!”

“Yes. Yes, you are.”

Crocodile

His posture tensed as your question fell on his ears. 

He looked up at you, annoyance written all over his scarred face. His tongue flicked at his cigar.

“Hope this isn’t your way of being cute.” There was a faint huff of amusement in the ridiculousness of your question.

Okay, maybe you caught him in a bad mood…well, worse than usual.

You’d always been a bit of a wild card in your own right, one to play with fire. He both loved and despised that about you.

An exasperated sigh left him when he realized you weren’t going to let it go. “Me.”

That was the best you were ever going to get out of him, so you gladly took it as a win.

[fuerrziah]

Staying anonymous because I'm way too embarrassed but OH MY GOD I absolutely love your art so much. The way you draw Elliott and then Beau too awhwsbna..... The husbands fr fr I love them so much.

If you take requests can you draw Elliott in a flower dance outfit.... Yk with his best button up shirt and flowers in his braided hair (He would look so ethereal like that, change my mind). If you'd do that I'd be on my knees fr (but please don't overwork yourself!!) 😭🙏🏻💜💜💜💜

ilysm I hope you have a wonderful day!

HERE YOU GOOO!!!

Also AHH thank you so much im glad you like thise two together!!!! 😻😻😻

[il-miele-che-scrive]

another Y/n Verstappen x Lando smau

madmax.jpg Gelukkige Verjaardag, Y/n 🎉 geniet van uw speciale dag! We've had our ups and downs but I'm overall happy that you're my little sister

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y/n_verstappen Thanks for always being there for me even when I drive you crazy 😌🩷

username1 Lando influenced Max to make a jpg account, I'm dead 😭

landonorris she's so lucky to have you as her brother

↳y/n_verstappen Excuse me?? Are you dating me or my brother?? What's up with the ass licking??

landonorris well you're a bit of a pain in the ass aren't you? max had to deal with you since you were born

y/n_verstappen If I'm such a pain in the ass how about I leave your ass alone

landonorris hey, he didn't have a choice, I chose my pain in the ass

y/n_verstappen You're on thin ice, Norris

username2 guys, mother and father are fighting on mother's birthday 😭

username1 Nahhh, no worries, that's just how they are

y/n_verstappen True, we might be a little mean to each other but we're very much in love

landonorris I totally didn't force her to say this

lewishamilton Happy birthday to Y/n! 🎂

↳username3 Oh to have Lewis Hamilton wish me a happy birthday 😩 one can dream

↳y/n_verstappen Thank you Lulu!💜

username3 AND she's calling THE Lewis Hamilton Lulu😭

username4 Probably got that from Lando 😂

danielricciardo Time flies, huh?

↳y/n_verstappen It does 😭 Max and I went from me driving him insane to me watching him driving around in circles

danielricciardo I'm sure you still drive Max insane from time to time even these days😂

madmax.jpg That's absolutely correct

username5 Max having flashbacks of the day he found out his lil sis is dating Lando lmao

y/n_verstappen At least now he got used to that idea😭

carlossainz55 Sending all the good vibes to Y/n, have a blast celebrating! 🥳🥂🎈

↳y/n_verstappen Thanks, Carlito!! 🫶

carlossainz55 I still remember how back in the days Lando would complain to me about that huge crush he had on you

y/n_verstappen Ahhh, it was just a few years ago and yet so much has happened

landonorris and I still do have a crush on her wtf

y/n_verstappen That's literally so obvious ❤️

carlossainz55 I didn't say you don't anymore, I was just saying it took you a few years to fianlly take some action

landonorris And look where it got me, it was worth the wait

francisca.cgomes Wishing you the happiest birthday Y/n! You were so adorable as a kid 🫶

↳y/n_verstappen Am I not adorable anymore? ☹️

francisca.cgomes You are! Just in a different way! You're a grown woman now

charles_leclerc Happy birthday to my favorite Verstappen

↳username6 HE DID NOT

username7 HE DID...

↳y/n_verstappen And all this time I thought Max was your favorite

charles_leclerc His constant victories killed it a bit for me

madmax.jpg You're just salty you can't keep up

charles_leclerc Sorry? I got P2 last race, each time I'm closer to beating you

madmax.jpg Keep dreaming, mr 20secs behind

lando.jpg Happy birthday to the most amazing person in my life ❤️ you deserve all the happiness in the world, I'm so lucky to have you by my side. Cheers to you, my love ❤️🥂

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maxfewtrell She's the most amazing person in your life now? 🙄

↳lando.jpg you're on the 2nd place let's say

↳y/n_verstappen Sorry not sorry <3

maxfewtrell Happy birthday by the way! Sending my best wishes

y/n_verstappen Thanks a lot 🫶

username1 THE 5TH PIC

oscarpiastri Never expected to see Lando so in love

↳y/n_verstappen Honestly I don't think he expected that himself

oscarpiastri Happy birthday, thank you for taking care of Lando!

landonorris taking care of me?

oscarpiastri Yeah! You're so different now. I guess you're finally an adult. Which now is kind of weird that I'm saying this on Y/n's bday but whatever

username1 Awwwwhhhh mr I don't wanna mature I'm happy where I am has finally matured!

y/n_verstappen All I'm doing is trying to keep him from getting too silly, but thanks for the credit!

username2 I don't know if I wanna be her or wanna be WITH her

y/n_verstappen Petition for Max to let you win this weekend since it's MY BIRTHDAY @/maxverstappen1

↳maxverstappen1 The day Lando wins I'm allowing you to get married

y/n_verstappen Pls just let him win this once

maxverstappen1 If he were fast enough he would've won

lando.jpg that's how you speak about your brother in law?

maxverstappen1 And I'd do it again

username3 I'm crying why are both Y/n and Max so aggressive

username4 That's just the Verstappen genes 🤷‍♀️

username5 Don't tell me Max saw pics nr 4, 5 and 6 and didn't say anything

↳y/n_verstappen He chose to ignore them 😌 better for him I guess

riabish You make such a great couple 😭

↳y/n_verstappen I know right 😭

riabish Anyway girls night when?

y/n_verstappen As soon as possible I guess?!?!

username6 Y/n is precious and needs to be protected at all cost

username7 I've never seen a man as in love with their gf as Lando is with Y/n

username8 She's so goofy I love her

username9 The best wag tbh, the rest is just stuck up bitches

↳y/n_verstappen EXCUSE ME?? They're all amazing women, if you hate on them don't call yourself my fan

username10 I saw Max's post and I waited for Lando to post, I am not disappointed 😂

georgerussell63 You're so in love mate

↳lando.jpg obviously, why wouldn't I be!

alex_albon You guys are a perfect couple

↳y/n_verstappen Noooo I love the vibe you and Lily have!! You're each other's wags

alex_albon I guess if you put it this way 😂

y/n_verstappen Both of my boys on the podium today!

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charles_leclerc And this time Lando didn't break Max's thropy 😂👏

↳carlossainz55 That would be too risky now that he's dating his sister 😂

landonorris You promised Max would let me win ☹️

↳y/n_verstappen I did not! You saw I had a talk with him but it didn't work out

francisca.cgomes Is that what you used your birthday wish for?

↳y/n_verstappen It just might be 🤭

username1 Should've used it for a Lando win 😭

y/n_verstappen I guess nothing can stop Max 🤷‍♀️

username2 I love seeing them both getting along 🥺

username3 Let's go Lando Lando it's okay

↳username4 Let's go Lando he is here to stay

username5 Let's go Lando he is one of us

y/n_verstappen He's racing like a lion shouldn't he be Dutch

username3 OMG Y/N FINISHING THE LYRICS

y/n_verstappen GIRL I love this song 😭 AND THE PODIUM SONG

username6 So happy to know Max isn't angry anymore 😭

↳y/n_verstappen He's... Dealing with it. We're still not allowed too much PDA around him

username7 The way people chanted Lando when the Dutch national anthem was playing lmao

↳username8 Am I delusional or was Max also mouthing the chant?

username7 HE WAS!! And Y/n in the crowd too!!

username8 Damn even the Verstappens are bored of their own anthem

username9 Y/n you looked stunning in the paddock this weekend!

↳y/n_verstappen Thank you I'm gonna blush 🤭

username10 So when are you getting married?

↳username2 Max said when Lando wins, a podium is not a win 😭

username10 That's a never I guess 😂 or at least not for as long as Max is in F1

username11 Y/n is a fangirl just like us

↳username12 Hard to not be when your brother and your boyfriend are both F1 drivers

username13 I wonder if Lando has ever talked to Jos?

↳username14 I don't think even Y/n is on speaking terms with Jos? She seems to avoid him

username5 Yeah, I've heard Jos tried to fix the relationship with his daughter but Y/n doesn't want it

username14 Queen behavior tbh

username12 Not really queen behavior. If not Jos, Max wouldn't win a single championship

username14 I'm sure abusing helped build up his career

username12 What abusing? Jos is a strict father, not a psycho

username14 "My father once stabbed a mechanic's hand with a fork 😁" and don't even get me started on Jos leaving Max alone at a gas station

alex_albon Look at the 5th photo!

↳charles_leclerc They're so cute together aren't they?

landonorris I think you meant the 4th?

alex_albon Nope 😊 pretty sure I meant the 5th

y/n_verstappen Lando and Max together are precious 🫶

username15 now... do we call them Maxando or Lax?

↳y/n_verstappen I vote for Maxando🖐️

landonorris yeah lol Lax sounds like short for laxative

y/n_verstappen I don't know about you, but I'm feeling twenty two

view all comments

francisca.cgomes Seems like a perfect night to make fun of our exes 🥂

↳username1 Uhhhh Kika? Are you and Pierre alright?

username2 They are lol that's just the lyrics

yourfriend1 Beach birthday party ☑ one thing less on the bucket list

username3 I need to know if any drivers where there

↳username1 Seems like a girly gathering from the photos

username3 Girly gathering is such a fun term, I'm gonna steal it

↳y/n_verstappen Just a few of them 👀

username3 LIKE WHO??

username4 I bet Lando

username3 Probably I guess? But that's one and she said a few

username4 I guess she won't tell us 😭

landonorris gorgeous as always ❤️

↳y/n_verstappen I love you ❤️‍🔥

landonorris love you more baby

y/n_verstappen Not possible, I already love you the most

maxfewtrell That's so cringe

alex_albon @/carlossainz55 what have you done 😩

carlossainz55 I'm proud of what I've done, I think their cringe is adorable

username3 So it was Carlos who played matchmaker between Y/n and Lando!

yourfriend1 I'll never thank Carlos enough, Y/n is so happy with Lando 😭

username2 I guess all we can do is be happy for them, even if they're cringy sometimes

username5 Oh look, Jos claimed to be trying to fix his family issues and yet he never wished Y/n a happy birthday, I didn't see him comment anywhere

↳username2 Are we surprised tho? Disappointed maybe, but surprised? Nope

↳y/n_verstappen Hey, the daddy issues made me a cool person. And also made Max a 3 times world champion which is also nice, but I guess I was more lucky here

username2 I LOVE YOU GIRL 😭🫶

maxverstappen1 Soon 4 times

y/n_verstappen You know even you're bored of it

maxverstappen1 Papa didn't raise no bitch

y/n_verstappen I know that, Max, I know...

y/n_verstappen I'm in love with this man🗣️it was my birthday recently, so pls win a race for me

view all comments

landonorris you know that does not depend on me🙄

↳maxverstappen1 That's not a world champion mindset🙄

y/n_verstappen Shut up for once and let him win!!!

maxverstappen1 If he wants to win he has to fight for it!!!

y/n_verstappen He's trying!!!

maxverstappen1 Apparently not hard enough

username1 Imagine being such a bad driver your gf has to beg her brother to let you win

username2 What? It's all jokes, you gotta be stupid to think they're being for real in these comments

oscarpiastri Lando should start wearing orange bows more often

↳y/n_verstappen I know right?! He looks so babygirl

landonorris can you not? that's enough that I let you post that last picture

oscarpiastri Calm down mate, the anger takes away your beauty 🥺

username3 Why's everyone making fun of Lando here?😭

carlossainz55 Didn't know you're such a talented photographer 📸

↳landonorris I could've taught her a thing or two😌

y/n_verstappen Wow, you were so quick to comment huh

landonorris just in case if you forgot to mention this

y/n_verstappen Carlos commented a minute ago?!?!

landonorris you had whole 60 seconds to say it and you didn't! someone had to

username2 Lando is such a baby 😭

y/n_verstappen Maybe. But MY baby.

username4 Do I want a gf like Y/n or a bf like Lando?

↳username5 I want both and I would take them both if I ever got a chance

username6 Hey so I need to know if Lando's dutch has improved since he's been dating Y/n?

↳y/n_verstappen He thinks he made soooo much progress, but that's a lie

landonorris Ik heet Lando :) ik hou van Y/n <3

y/n_verstappen Good! That's literally the basics!

username6 Isn't that really all he needs to know?🥰

y/n_verstappen Let's say it's alright for now 😌

charles_leclerc You teaching dutch to Lando reminds me of Arthur and I teaching you french😂

↳y/n_verstappen Except I'm a quicker learner

landonorris and somehow I've never heard you speak french 🤔

charles_leclerc She's traumatized ☹️

y/n_verstappen Yes I am ☹️ learning french in school was a nightmare and the Leclercs made me experience it again, it was lovely

charles_leclerc You're welcome 😊

landonorris now I understand it all, she's projecting her trauma onto me now

maxverstappen1 She's an evil woman isn't she?

landonorris the most evil, definitely

username7 HELP ME GUYS I've imagined Y/n teaching Lando dutch with the same passion Jos pushed Max into driving 😭 it's way too funny in my head

↳username6 Great! In a few years Lando should be fluent then! 😂

↳username8 Y/n is her father's daughter after all 💀

username9 Guys, remember the time Max corrected a french guy to "bonsoir" when he said bonjour? 😭

↳username6 bonsoir ☝️🤓

↳y/n_verstappen As he should! Sometimes you gotta correct even the native speakers

maxverstappen1 At least I can speak french

y/n_verstappen Me too!! Een beetje

landonorris wow it must be een very tiny beetje

[hitomisuzuya]

hi suzu! <3 i love your writing so much! 🤍🤍

can i request smut & fluff, general! kunikuzushi x youngest daughter reader of kamisato? they are engaged and often do naughty things during family gatherings :> (maybe a little corrupt and breeding is okay)

Kunikuzushi (Scaramouche) x fem!reader. Smut. Corruption. Breeding kink. Semi public (I guess-ish?). Creampie. Scara peeks through occasionally.

Thank you so much💜

You were the sweetest, most innocent little thing Kunikuzushi had ever laid eyes on. Most especially at family gatherings, you always had a polite smile, and kind greeting. Even lending your ear to listen to guests talk about the smallest things.

It was such a pleasure to corrupt you.

Whenever a guest at the gathering casually asked you if you wanted to have children, it was like a switch flipped in Kunikuzushi. You'd looked at him, gave him the softest smile that made his heart flutter as you nodded.

The only thing he could think about was getting you alone. Right now. And breeding you full of his cum. The insatiable need gripped him like an iron vice. And he knew you would oh so willingly follow him when he "pulled you aside to have a word about dinner".

It was going to be really hard for him not to tear off the outfit he'd picked out for you to wear.

You were letting out a soft shaky pants and moans as Kunikuzushi's nimble fingers danced over your clit outside of your underwear. Your legs were spread, your palms against the wall with your panties clinging wet to your pussy.

"Kuni, please," Your fingernails dug into the wall of the nearby guest room, "Put something inside of me," Your clit throbbed with every stroke and rub, making it harder to stifle your moans. "Your fingers, your cock, a-anything."

You grinded against his fingers, gasping as he pinched your clit. The extra friction created by your panties only fogged your mind more.

Kunikuzushi chuckled behind you. "Aww, does my sweet girl want me that badly?" He taunted playfully, poking his fingers against your entrance. You were absolutely soaking his fingers, and he couldn't get enough of it.

You sounded so cute pleading for him. He felt your hole clench through your panties around the tips of his fingers. He'd spent long and blissful nights pumping his cock inside of you, making you crave him more.

"K-Kuni," You couldn't help the loud moan that escaped you as you stumbled over his name. "I just might cum, and I-I--" He pinched your clit again, cutting you off. Pleasure burst in crackles through your body.

"Use your words, kitten," Kunikuzushi purred, his cock straining in his pants as he drank in the sight of you trying to grind needily on his fingers.

"I might cum, and I don't wanna cum without your cock inside of me," You felt your cheeks heating from how lewd that sounded. You mewled feeling a light smack on your ass.

"So needy," He laughed, groping your ass before giving you a gentle push towards the bed. "Get on your hands and knees. I'll give my needy girl what she wants," An approving smirk tugged at the corners of his lips as he watched you crawl onto the bed.

You didn't need to asked twice. Going down on your elbows, you angled your hips up. He groaned seeing how wet you were. Taking out his cock, he stroked it, his eyes following your hand as you reached under you to peel your panties aside.

Kunikuzushi rubbed his cock between your soppy folds, making your toes curl in anticipation as the leaking head glided over your clit. "What would everyone say if they saw the darling daughter of the Kamisato family acting so shamelessly. Begging me to fuck her full of cum?"

You pushed back against his cock. "I don't care, Kuni. Just fuck me, please," You clamped a hand over your mouth, muffling a moan as best you could as you felt his cock start to stretch you apart.

When you sounded that sweet and pathetic how could he deny you?

"Good girl. Good fucking girl," Kunikuzushi moan, quivering in bliss as his cock parted your tight walls. He pulled out half way to bottom out in a swift thrust. "I'll breed this pretty pussy and knock you up. How does that sound?"

His fingers dug into your hips, his cock pounding feverishly inside of you. Not even your hand could quiet your moans as his cock hit consistently into your sweet spot, stretching apart and dragging along your gummy walls.

"Kuni! Kuni! I'll make you a dad, Kuni," Your hand suddenly fell away from your mouth. Kunikuzushi's cock throbbed harder inside of you at your words. He laughed shakily in delight, his soft and husky moans mingling with yours.

You buried your face into the pillow, your body quaking and limp with pleasure. He was fucking you dumb and drooling on his cock. His fingers tightened on your hips as you body twitched from your approaching orgasm.

"Fuck, you are so tight," Kunikuzushi groaned, smacking a hand on your ass again. Your walls clenching tighter around his cock was dizzying to him. "I'm going to cum," He mumbled incoherently.

You yelped in bliss, your skin stinging from the smack. Your orgasm hit you like a freight train, your milky juices making a white ring around his cock. He swallowed back soft whimpers the closer he got to cumming. Images of your belly swollen with his child served as full to the fire for his need.

Kunikuzushi let out a satisfied moan as his cock ribboned cum inside of you. He left his cock sheathed inside of you as his hips slowed to a stop. It was more than a few long moments before he pulled out of you.

"You are so precious to me," He leaned down to murmur in your ear. His hand caressed your hip in a gentle touch that backed up his words.

[dinogoofymutated]

Hey! I wanted to make a request but I wanna state right away that if you're simply not comfy with it or don't vibe with it - I completely understand!

I'm on my period rn and wanna request some SFW or NSFW head-canons with Kurt comforting F!Reader while on their period. (Totally understand if NSFW wouldn't be your thing for this. Just any comfort HCs at all would thrill me. <3)

I just can't stop thinking about him applying gentle pressure with his hand to my lower abdomen like a heating pad. I feel like he'd be so sweet. Furball cuddles for the win.

Extra note: Your writing is lovely and thank you so much for your posts. They bring me joy and I even reread some of them a few times. I hope you're having a good day/night and I'm sorry for the long ramble. Remember to take care of yourself and drink plenty of water 💜🫂

SFW! Nightcrawler/ AFAB! reader - Period HCs It's finally here!! I'm sorry it too me so long to get to this ask lol. Hope you enjoy! TWS!: depictions/descriptions of Menstrual Cycle, Blood, staining the sheets on accident. Cramps. Please do not read if you're not comfortable.

Kurt 1000000% is one of the best marvel characters when it comes to making sure his S/O is taken care of.

He's thoughtful and cuddly, and he definitely runs hot, so he's quite literally a heating pad/blanket. He hates the fact that you are in pain, even though it's a regular biological thing that happens to so many. He provides for you in any way that he can when you're on your period, making you food, running to the store, making sure you're hydrated and taking your meds.

You tell him to jump, he'll always ask how high.

And he's comfortable buying pads/tampons for you too! He memorised the brand and size you get after the first time you had your period while dating him, and he does his best to remember when you change that too!

He will also buy you the snacks you crave while on your period and will never let you pay him back.

Don't be embarrassed about your period around him. He's seen blood before, and just because it's coming from a vagina instead of a wound doesn't make it disgusting. He respects your boundaries during your period, and has a lot of patience with you if you're the type to get mood swings. He just loves you a lot, and if that includes uncomfortable menstrual cycles from time to time, he's more than willing to accommodate you however you need.

    You felt extra groggy waking up this morning. You can’t go back to sleep, but opening your eyes felt like an absolute chore. You didn’t feel well- and you can’t place why at first. You groggily sigh, uncomfortable even in bed, and are immediately comforted by a three-fingered hand soothingly petting your hair.

    “Good morning, Schatz.” His voice is soft and sweet. Even in your pain, you smile at him, trying to keep your eyes open just so that you can see him.

    “Mornin’ “ You sigh, leaning into his touch. 

    “Are you feeling well?” Kurt asks, ever the attentive sweetheart. You shake your head at him, moving closer to him so that you can snuggle into his chest. He’s warm and comforting. His tail wraps around you snugly, and he presses a kiss to your forehead. After cuddling for a while, your stomach growls, and Kurt chuckles. He mentions something about breakfast you’re a little too sleepy to remember and gives you a chaste peck before he pulls back the covers and gets out of bed.

    You only feel his weight on the bed shift a little before he seems to freeze abruptly. 

    “Is everything okay?” You ask, slowly blinking your eyes open to see what was the matter. Kurt has this soft, concerned look on his face as he looks at the bed, and then at you, turning to sit sideways where he can face you.

    “Love, you're bleeding.” He tells you. You look at him in confusion for a second, before you suddenly recognise that awful sticky wetness between your legs, and bolt straight up. You rip the blankets off, horrified at the sight of blood staining the sheets.

     “I'm so, so sorry, Kurt!” You say, frantically trying to sit up and get moving.   “- I promise I'll clean up and-”

    “Why would I make you do that?” Kurt immediately cuts you off, setting his hands on your shoulders to settle you. “You didn't do it on purpose.” He states. You don’t actually know how to respond, both embarrassed at the circumstances and thankful he’s not mad at you. 

    “I’ll start the shower for you. Just wash up and let me take care of everything else, okay?” Kurt says, taking your hands in his own before he stands. He kisses you again before he’s gone in a cloud of smoke.

    The water is the perfect temperature when you step inside, warm and cozy. You debate on turning the water scalding hot, still trying to shake off the embarrassment, but you don’t. Your cramps become more and more noticeable while you’re in the shower, causing you to ache once you finally shut off the stream. There's a fresh, fluffy towel and a new set of pajamas waiting for you when you step out- ones that Kurt must have teleported in without you noticing. The thought makes you smile.

   Kurt had replaced the bedsheets and re-made the bed while you were in the shower, also laying your weighted blanket across the bed. He’s not in the room right now, but that doesn't stop you from curling up under the fluffy cover immediately. You’re so thankful you swear to yourself that you were gonna repay Kurt ten times over with whatever he could possibly want, already knowing that he’d tell you to not worry about it.

   You’re lightly dozing, curled up in the fetal position under the covers to fight your cramps when Kurt teleports to your bedside. He’s got a tray of food in one hand with a glass of water in the other. You sit up when he sets it down on the bedside table, and he sits next to you had he hands you the glass, holding out pain meds in his other hand.

    “You know how much medicine I take?” You ask, smiling sweetly at him. He’s grinning, his tail swaying back and forth on the bed.

    “Why wouldn't I? It's the same amount every time.” Kurt says, tilting his head at you. You quickly take the medicine before you get too sidetracked, and the moment the glass of water is set to the side you pull him in for a kiss that he eagerly returns.

    “You’re the best, You know that?” You tell him, and all Kurt does is chuckle. He crawls under the covers with you, sitting by your side as the two of you eat breakfast together. When you’re done, He lays back down with you, setting his warm hand on your lower stomach as he spoons you from behind, pressing gentle kisses to the back of your neck. You’re already feeling better when you drift back to sleep again in his secure, comforting embrace.

[minisugakoobies]

I Know | KSY

Pairing: Hoshi x GNReader (no agab)

Genre: fluff, established relationship, dancer!AU

Rating: T

Warnings: drunk hoshi, grumpy woozi, hoshi is absolutely whipped for reader, this is honestly just very soft and sweet!

Word Count: 816

Disclaimers: none, other than I don’t own SVT - they just inspire me

Summary: Even when he's passed-out drunk, Hoshi still manages to amaze you with his love.

Text Prompt: boyfriend texted me "my love I am intoxicated" and then five minutes later, his best friend sends me a photo of him, passed out, phone in hand, and zoomed in on one of my selfies - tweet from himbowithnofear

A/N: I'm back with another installment of my "texts from svt" series. At some point I'll make a masterlist, but for now, please enjoy this short lil' fic about my favorite affectionate drunk, Hoshi. Fun fact, I've actually had this one finished for a while, but couldn't resist posting Mingyu first!

Unbeta'd as usual. I'd love to hear what you think (but please be kind I'm fragile 🥺) 💕

SVT Masterlist 💜 Main Masterlist

“Please come get your man.”

Jihoon’s grumpy request is the first thing you hear when you answer your phone. 

“Hey, Jihoon, how are you?” you laugh, unsurprised by his opening plea. Ten minutes ago, you’d received the following message from your boyfriend:

LOML: my love, i am  intoxicatedd

And had been waiting to hear from Jihoon ever since. Though you were a little surprised that he was video calling you instead of just calling or texting.

“To be honest with you, I’m not great right now. And it’s all your boyfriend’s fault.” 

You can’t help but laugh loudly. Jihoon scowls. 

“Why are you upset with Soonyoung? I thought you guys were celebrating tonight.” 

“Because.” Jihoon flips the camera. There’s your man, all 178 cm of him, snoring his ass off in the corner booth. “He’s driving the other customers out of my bar.”

If you’re being honest, you’d been expecting this moment long before Jihoon called you. Soonyoung had gone out for drinks with several of his friends to celebrate one of them getting a new job, and you knew your lightweight boyfriend would feel compelled to try to keep up with those lushes as always. Not at their insistence, but out of his own desire. It was a point of pride for him. 

“Don’t worry. I’m on my way.” 

“Thank you. Please hurry.” Jihoon winces. “I know he calls himself a tiger, but he really snores like a damn bear.” 

You laugh again, about to disconnect, when Jihoon makes a sudden noise of delight. 

“Hold on,” he chuckles, and the screen zooms in on the phone still clutched in Soonyoung’s hand. “Do you see that?” 

It’s you looking back at you. From a photo, one that you recognize immediately as one of Soonyoung’s self-proclaimed favorites, from the weekend you’d spent at the beach last summer. It’s actually a wide shot of you standing in front of a gorgeous sunset, soft pink light dancing on your skin, and that knowledge makes you smile right now. Because it means that your drunk sap of a boyfriend zoomed in on your face, right before he passed out. Probably to dream about you. 

Soonyoung never did anything by halves. Not dancing. Not drinking. 

And definitely not loving you.  

“Come get your simp.” With a grin, Jihoon disconnects.

Tossing your phone into the front pocket of the oversized hoodie of Soonyoung’s that you’re wearing, you grab your keys and head for the door. 

It’s not a long drive to the bar. Inside, you make a beeline for the booth in the back, familiar with the space around you. It’s basically your second home, between being best friends with the owner, and dating (though he’d never admit it) his favorite patron. And, speak of the devil, there he is, the love of your life, head on the table, mouth open, rattling the glasses on the table with his powerful exhalations. 

Something else Soonyoung doesn’t do by halves - sleeping.

Jihoon nods at you from across the bar. All of Soonyoung’s other friends are nowhere to be found, likely having gone home once Jihoon reassured them you were on your way. 

Ignoring the common advice regarding sleeping tigers, you slide onto the bench and gently lay your hand on Soonyoung’s back to shake him awake. 

“Soonyoungieeeee, time to get up,” you trill sweetly into his ear, brushing his dark hair out of his face.

He cracks an eye open. “Baby?” he asks groggily. “Is it time to go to work?” 

“No, dingdong, it’s Saturday. And you’re at Jihoon’s, remember?” 

“Oh.” Soonyoung sits up, looks around. “Right. Oh!” His eyes get wide. “Baby! Those hyungs got me soooo drunk!” 

Laughing, you brush some chip crumbs off his cheek. “I know, ‘youngie.”

“Yeah.” Soonyoung’s eyes slip unfocused as he smiles. “Wait. You weren’t here and now you are.” He hiccups himself into a confused frown. “Why are you here?” 

“To take you home, dingdong.” Running your fingers through his hair again, you grin. 

Soonyoung looks at you and you swear you see his pupils turn into hearts. “You’re taking me home? With you? To your home?” 

You shake your head, gently tugging his beanie down over his ears. “How many shots did they make you take? Yes, you’re coming with me. To our apartment, where we both live.”

“We live together!” Soonyoung’s eyes disappear behind his cheeks as he grins. “You love me!” 

“Yes, I do,” you laugh, yanking on his arm to get him onto his feet. He wobbles slightly, so you duck under his arm, trying to steady him, but he interprets this in another way, cupping your face to pull you in for a slightly clumsy but rather passionate kiss. 

“I love you, too,” he whispers, nose bumping repeatedly into your cheek as you start to lead him towards the exit. 

“I know, ‘youngie,” you repeat with a soft smile. “I know.” 

If you liked this fic, please consider reblogging! Likes do not help it get seen by other readers. 💕

© 2024 by minisugakoobies. Crossposted to AO3. Please do not copy or repost. I do not allow translations of my work.

[specialagentlokitty]

Hotch x reader - everybody’s favourite

Sorry for requesting something so soon after my Wanda ask... But all I can think of is like Hotchkiss with reader who just absolutely spoils him and jack because their like a CEO or something and want them to have the best. And one day they send Hotch to work with a gift for Spencer after a hard case (maybe a book he's been looking for but can't find). So the team get a little jealous and want to meet her. - @azeal-peal 💜

Looking at your phone, you smiled at your lock screen and went back to looking at the people you were sat in a meeting with.

“How about we take a small break?” You asked.

“Your boyfriend calling?” Someone chuckled.

You laughed softly, standing up as you grabbed your phone.

“Actually my boyfriend is here, and we’re in no rush to finish this project, I trust you all. Go take a few hours, we’ll meet back just after lunch.”

Everybody seemed happy with this arrangement, and you quickly tidied a few of the papers away, setting them aside and picked up your papers.

Heading to your office, you set them on the desk, then walked back outside, making your way across the office.

You saw him before he saw you, and you grinned from ear to ear as you walked closer.

“Hello sweetheart.” You greeted.

Hotch turned around, a smile gracing his face as he saw you.

He opened his arms and you wrapped your arms around his neck, letting him wrap his own around you and you pulled him down for a kiss.

Letting him go after a minute, you played with the hairs on the base of his neck.

“I just got back, Jack is at school so I thought I’d come see if you’re free.”

“I’m always free for you my darling.”

Hotch chuckled a little bit, letting go of you he held his hand out and you took it, letting him lead you back to his office.

He gathered your phone, your keys and your wallet for you, putting them into the pockets of his blazer, then held out his arm.

You looped your arm with his, making your way down to the parking lot.

“I was thinking about jacks trip, and I want to get him some new clothes for it, oh and a new suit for you, we have an appointment with the tailor.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I know, but I’m going to do it. So, suck it up and tell me about your case.”

Hotch nodded, opening the car door for you, and you got in.

When he was in the drivers side, he began to tell you about the case on the way to the tailors.

He explained how hard the case was for Reid, and what had happened, the fact that Reece had been hurt, and he’s really struggling with the fact he was hurt.

You listened carefully as he talked.

“The poor kid has it hard.” You sighed.

“I know, but honestly he’s one of the best agents we have, if not the best agent. I just wish there was some way to boost his confidence in himself.” Hotch sighed.

“Give it time, I imagine life has been hard for him because of how smart he is, and we know this world isn’t too kind to people who are different. Just keep supporting him Aaron and let him know you’re there for him.”

You guided your boyfriend into the tailors and over to the man who was waiting for him.

While they were measuring up a new suit, you were flicking through some others, looking at the colours and designs, then you made your way over to the accessories.

You found a nice, though expensive watch in the glass case.

“It’s nice isn’t it?” Another man asked.

“Absolutely, though I was wondering if you have something a little less flashy and more work appropriate. My boyfriend wouldn’t be able to wear this to work.”

The man nodded his head, pulling out some watches.

“Some of these are more expensive due to their unique design, but they would be more appropriate for a working environment if you didn’t want it to be easily damaged.”

You looked through them, and you looked at a pure gold one, small intricate designs carved into the links of the watch.

“I like this, I’ll get this one. He’s currently getting a new suit fitted so I’d like to wait for that before paying, I’ll probably get him a few more ties as well. Something that says professional, but can be used for formal meals and such as well.”

He nodded.

“We have a few I think you’ll like them.”

You carried on picking some stuff up for Hotch, then waited by the counter for him, also getting yourself a new watch since you wanted a change.

When Hotch had his new suit fitted, it was brought over and he stood next to you.

“(Y/N) no, you can’t. This is all too much and it has to be expensive.”

You grinned a little bit, handing over your bank card.

“Oops, too late.”

He sighed, giving you a small smile as he shook his head and he leant forward, kissing your forehead.

“You’re too good for me…” he whispered.

“I’d say it’s the other way around sweetheart, oh, and before you go to work tomorrow I have something for you to take it.”

You never told Hotch what it was, but you did go pick it up later on that night before heading back home.

Jack was happily trying on all of his clothes, and you handed the box to Hotch with the instructions to give it to Reid first thing in the morning.

And he did, when he got to the office he waited for Reid and made his way over.

“(Y/N) wanted you to have this.”

He set the box on the desk and Reid furrowed his brows a little bit.

“Oh? The mysterious rich partner has a gift for the pretty boy?” Emily asked.

They all walked over to watch as Reid opened it.

He set the lid to the box aside, and he picked up the note that was neatly placed on the top.

“What’s it say?” Rossi asked.

“It says to always believe in myself.”

He set the note aside and picked up the very old book.

“It’s a first edition of a Russian novel I’ve been looking for…” he whispered.

“Oh my god that’s amazing!” Garcia gasped.

“Damn, that must’ve cost a lot.” Morgan whistled.

They all nodded in agreement and Hotch just chuckled a little bit, shaking his head.

“They don’t care about cost, to (Y/N) they just want everybody to have the best.”

“Seriously Hotch, we have to meet them this isn’t fair.” JJ laughed.

Everybody immediately started asking him and begging him to be able to meet you.

They’d all heard about you, they knew about you from being the CEO of a large company, they’d seen photos of you and seen interviews of you thanks to Garica.

But they hadn’t had the chance to meet you, and they wanted to meet you, finally get to see the person who keeps gifting them all expensive gifts

[faithshouseofchaos]

Shut up now you opened a whole new thought process mentioning mafia 🤭 what about mafia!danny? I don’t think anyone’s wrote about him but I feel like it just clicks. OH MAYBE reader doesn’t believe it when he casually mentions it, she thinks it’s a joke because of his happy personality but then maybe she catches him doing some *mafia stuff* iykwim and then she’s shocked at first, not talking to him for a bit. He clearly says that it’s not his fault because well he did technically tell her even though she thought it was a joke. Im a sucker for the injury trope and it fits so well with mafia so like he shows up to her house all bloody and bruised with flowers or smt and he’s like I don’t know how to make it up to you but you made me feel like the mafia never existed or wtv and asks what he can do to make it up 😫 this is pure brainrot so I’m not even sure if this makes sense so work your magic 💜

A/n— this has been In my drafts since mid June 😭

Mafia!daniel ricciardo x fem!reader

Angst fluff hurt comfort you know the works

Word count— 7.3k words

Warnings — I did not edit this 😭 death but no one important slightly dark!Danny

“I don’t think this is a good idea” you groaned to your friend who had set you up on a blind date with her husband's best friends who he had known since childhood. “It’s a great idea you’ve been single for four years now y/n it’s time to get back out there and meet new people. I’m not saying you have to get into bed with him, just give him a chance” She replied. 

“Do I have to?” You asked looking at your friend with a pleading look practically begging her. 

“Come on y/n you’ll like him. Daniel’s nice and he’s funny. He's your type. Trust me, as soon as you see his smile you’ll fall and you’ll fall hard” she says, wiggling her eyebrows.

“Ok fine I’ll go on one date,” you said crossing your arms “As long as you promise to keep an eye on my location I don’t want to end up on the next episode of Dateline” you added.

“Oh relax” your friend scoffed “Daniel’s a good guy and he’s a total gentleman, you won’t have to worry about that” 

“Don’t you worry I’ll be keeping tabs on you the whole time you’ll be fine” she reassured you. “You’ll see you’re going to fall in love with him. I’ll set up a date for you two, you’ll thank me when you’re living happily ever after” she said while putting a hand on your shoulder.

 A few days later your friend had set you up on a date. You were now about to leave your house for the date and before you left your friend had messaged and asked for your location so she could keep track of you. Once you sent her the address of the restaurant you were going to, you made your way there.

You finally got to the restaurant and looked around, a little nervously, until you spotted your date. You saw a tall attractive man, with messy brown hair and a charming smile sitting at one of the tables. He seemed to notice you as he stood up and smiled, waving to you to come over. As you walked towards him he pulled out a chair for you and once you sat down he pushed it back in before he sat back down. “You’re y/n right?” He asked as he gave you a charming smile.

You nodded and smiled back. “Yeah that’s me and I’m assuming you’re Daniel?” You asked as you looked up at him, taking in his handsome features.

He chuckled, “yep that’s me” he replied as he ran a hand through his hair. “You’re even prettier than your friend described you” he added as he looked you up and down shamelessly. You felt your cheeks warm up a little at his compliment but you tried to stay calm. “Well you’re not too bad looking yourself,” you said with a hint of playful sarcasm in your voice.

"Not too bad?" He repeated, feigning a hurt expression as he clutched his heart dramatically. "I'm devastated, absolutely devastated" he added with a smirk. "Much happier, especially coming from a beautiful girl like you," he said with a smirk. A second later the waiter came by and asked what you would like to drink.

You told the waiter what you wanted to drink and Daniel did the same. As the waiter left to put your drink orders in, you turned to Daniel. “So what do you do for a living?” You asked curiously. "I run a business that modifies cars" he replied with a smile. "It's a family business, handed down from generation to generation" he added, his pride obvious in his tone.

You were a little surprised by how casually he worded it. “Oh wow that sounds pretty cool, I’m surprised I haven’t heard of it before. What’s it called?” You asked curiously. “It’s a little Mafia thing,” Daniel says casually. 

Your eyes widened slightly at his casual statement. “A little mafia thing?” You repeated disbelief in your voice. “Are you being serious right now?”

He chuckled, "Yes, I'm being completely serious. It's not what you think though, we're not out committing crimes like the stereotype. We're all about family and respect here, a different type of mafia" he explained, his tone still calm and casual.

“I don’t believe that,” you said.

Daniel feigns a hurt expression again. “You wound me. I’m offended that you don’t believe me” he said with a fake pout. “But seriously, I’m not lying to you. I do run a mafia business that’s all about family” he added with a shrug. You couldn’t help but feel skeptical. “I’m sorry, I’m just having a hard time believing what you’re saying. It’s not every day you meet someone in the mafia” you said, still sounding doubtful.

Daniel chuckled, clearly amused by your skepticism. “I understand your disbelief, it’s not something you hear about every day. But I assure you, I’m not lying to you. I’ve been part of this family business for years” he said calmly, trying to reassure you. You were grateful for the subject change, and you quickly gave him an answer. “I work at a local animal shelter, nothing too exciting” you replied with a small shrug.

"That's pretty cool, I love animals," he said with a small smile. "Have any pets of your own?" He added curiously. You shook your head. "No, I wish I could have one but my apartment doesn't allow pets" you explained. "But I get to see and play with so many different animals every day at work, so I can't complain," you added with a smile.

He nodded. "Yeah, I get that. It sucks when you can't have a pet, but at least you get your animal fix at work" he replied with a grin. The conversation continued on and on, you found yourself lost in conversation with Daniel. He was charming and funny, the time flew by while talking with him. Before you knew it, hours had passed and it was starting to get late. Just as you were about to say something, your phone buzzed in your pocket. You pulled it out to check your notification and saw a text from your friend asking if you were still on your date and if you were still okay.

You quickly typed out a response telling her that you were still on the date that everything was fine and you'd check in with her later. As soon as you hit send, you looked back up at Daniel, who was watching you curiously. “Everything alright?” He asked, raising an eyebrow as he looked at you.

"Oh yeah, it was just my friend checking in on me. She's a bit overprotective" you explained with a chuckle. He chuckled as well. "Ah, the overprotective friend. Gotta love 'em" he replied with a grin.

“Yeah she’s my best friend and I love her” you replied smiling.

There was a brief moment of comfortable silence between the two of you before Daniel spoke up again. "It's getting pretty late. Can I walk you home?" He asked, looking at you with a warm expression. You smiled at his offer. "That's very sweet of you, but didn't you drive here? I don't want you to have to go back to get your car" you replied, feeling a sense of guilt at the thought of him having to walk back to his car just to drive you home.

He chuckled and shook his head. "It's fine, I don't mind. Plus, I'd feel better knowing you got home safely" he said with a small smile.

You couldn't help but feel a warm feeling at his words, touched by his concern for your safety. "Thank you, that's very sweet of you" you said, feeling a hint of a blush on your cheeks.

He smiled at your reaction, seeming pleased that he was able to make you blush. After paying for the bill, he stood up from his seat and gestured for you to do the same. He walked beside you, holding the door open for you as you exited the restaurant. The cool night air hit your face as you stepped outside, and you shivered slightly. Noticing your shiver, Daniel took off his coat and wrapped it around your shoulders. "Here, you look cold," he said as he placed his coat around your shoulders. The coat was warm and smelled like him, a woodsy and earthy scent that you found surprisingly pleasant.

"Thanks," you said as you pulled the coat closer around you. The two of you started walking down the street, the city around you becoming quieter as the night got later.

The two of you walked in comfortable silence for a couple of minutes, the only sound being the occasional car passing by. You glanced over at Daniel, who was walking beside you, his hands casually stuffed in the pockets of his pants.

"Can I ask you something?" He suddenly asked, breaking the silence between you two. "Yeah, of course. What is it?" You replied, curious about what he was going to ask. He hesitated for a moment before asking his question. "Why are you still single?" He blurted out, his tone casual but his words weighted. His question caught you off guard, and you weren't quite sure how to respond. "Uh, I don't know, just haven't found the right person I guess," you said with a shrug, feeling slightly embarrassed at his direct question.

He hummed pensively, seeming to consider your answer. "I find it hard to believe that a beautiful girl like you doesn't have men throwing themselves at you," he said, his eyes scanning your face intently. You blushed at his compliment, feeling embarrassed and flattered at the same time. "Yeah right, I'm not that much of a catch," you said with a self-deprecating chuckle, trying to downplay his words. He stopped in his tracks, causing you to stop too, and turned to face you. "Don't say that about yourself" he said sternly, his gaze never wavering. "You're gorgeous, and any man would be lucky to have you" he added firmly.

You stared at him for a moment, taken aback by his intensity. No one had ever spoken to you like that before, and it stirred up a feeling inside of you that you couldn't quite explain. "Thanks, I guess" you mumbled, feeling a bit overwhelmed by his compliment. He chuckled softly at your reaction, his expression softening. "No need to thank me, just stating the truth," he said with a shrug. "But seriously, I don't understand why you're single. You have everything a man looks for in a woman" he added, his eyes locking with yours.

You felt your heart skip a beat at his words, his intense gaze making you feel a bit flustered. "I don't know, maybe I'm just picky," you said, trying to sound nonchalant, but you knew that wasn't the real reason. The truth was, you were just too scared to put yourself out there again after your last relationship ended badly. He seemed to pick up on the underlying hint in your words, and his expression softened further. "Ah, I see. Previous relationship baggage, am I right?" He said with a knowing look. You were surprised that he had noticed, but you nodded in response. "Yeah, something like that," you said, feeling a mix of vulnerability and resignation.

He nodded in understanding. "I can understand that. Bad relationships can leave a mark on us, make us hesitant to trust again" he said thoughtfully. "But just because one relationship ended badly, it doesn't mean the next one will" he added, his gaze steady on you. You had to admit that he was right. You knew you couldn’t hold onto your past trauma forever, but it was easier said than done. "It's not just that, though," you said, feeling a bit guilty for unloading everything on him. "I'm also just scared of getting hurt again. Relationships are risky, and I don't know if I'm ready to take that risk again" you added with a sigh.

He listened attentively as you spoke, his expression still soft and understanding. "I get that. Falling in love is a risk, and there's always a chance of getting hurt. But the thing is, you can't live your life being afraid of getting hurt" he said, his voice gentle but firm. "If you don't take a risk and open yourself up to new relationships, you'll never experience the joy and fulfillment of finding someone who truly loves and cares about you" he added, his eyes never leaving yours.

His words hit you like a ton of bricks, making you realize that you were letting your past experiences dictate your future. "I know what you're saying is true, but it doesn't make it any easier," you said, feeling a mix of defensiveness and vulnerability. He nodded, seeming to understand your conflicting feelings. "I know it's not easy, and I'm not saying you should rush into anything. It's important to give yourself time to heal and process your emotions. But at the same time, don't shut yourself off to the possibility of finding happiness again" he said, his voice still soothing.

You felt a lump in your throat as you absorbed his words. You knew he was right, you couldn't keep living in the past and avoiding future relationships because of your fear of getting hurt. "You're very wise, you know that?" You said with a small smile, attempting to lighten the mood. He chuckled at your comment, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "I have my moments," he said playfully. "But seriously, I just want you to consider what I'm saying. Don't let your past define your future, and don't sell yourself short. You're an amazing woman, don't forget that" he said, his gaze still fixed on you. 

You felt a pang in your chest at his words, his praise making you feel a flutter in your stomach. You had never felt this seen and understood by someone before, and it was both comforting and overwhelming at the same time. "Thank you," you said, your voice tinged with vulnerability. "I appreciate you saying that. It means a lot" you added, feeling a bit emotional.

He smiled at your response, looking pleased that he was able to make you feel better. "It's just the truth," he said matter-of-factly. "You deserve to be loved and taken care of, and I'm sure there are plenty of men out there who would be lucky to have you" he added, his tone casual yet affectionate. “I hope that you’ll do the honor and go out with me again?” Daniel added.

Your eyes widened in surprise at his unexpected question. "Wait, what?" You asked, caught off guard by his directness. He chuckled at your stunned expression. "Did I surprise you?" He asked, his tone teasing. "I thought I made it obvious that I'm interested in you," he said, his gaze still locked on yours. You felt your heart rate increase at his words, his gaze making you feel both flattered and a bit flustered. "You're interested in me?" You asked, hoping you didn't sound as dumbfounded as you felt.

He nodded, a small smirk playing on his lips. "Of course I am. You're gorgeous and intelligent, and you have a great sense of humor. Why wouldn't I be interested in you?" He said, his voice dripping with charm.

You couldn't help but smile at his compliments, feeling a swarm of butterflies in your stomach. "You're flattering me too much," you said, trying to play it cool. “But yes Daniel I would love to go on another date with you” His smile widened at your response, clearly pleased that you had agreed to go on another date with him. "Great, I'm glad to hear it. I promise not to disappoint" he said, a hint of excitement in his voice.

The two of you resumed walking, the conversation becoming lighter and carefree again. Even though you had only been on one date with him, you felt a certain ease and comfort with Daniel that you hadn't felt with anyone else before.

As you walked, you couldn't help but sneak glances at Daniel from time to time, noticing small details about him that you hadn't noticed before. The way his hair fell slightly over his forehead, the crinkles by his eyes when he smiled, the way his hands moved effortlessly in his pockets.

You were so lost in admiring him that you almost didn't notice when he spoke up again. "You're staring," he said, his tone playful. You felt a heat rise to your cheeks as you realized he had caught you staring. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to," you said, feeling embarrassed at being caught.

“Thank you for walking me home, you didn’t have to do that,” you said, thanking Daniel. He smiled at your thank you, appreciating your gratitude. "It was no problem at all. I wanted to make sure you got home safely" he said, his tone still warm and genuine.

You arrived at your apartment building, the outside light casting a soft glow over the both of you. You turned to face Daniel, feeling a mixture of excitement and nervous energy. "Well, this is me," you said, gesturing towards the building behind you. "Thanks again for walking me home, it was really sweet of you" you added, looking up at him with a small smile.

He smiled back at you, his eyes roaming over your face as if trying to memorize every detail. "It was my pleasure. I'm glad I was able to spend more time with you" he said, his tone soft and sincere.

There was a brief moment of silence between the two of you, the air thick with unspoken tension. You knew that this was the part where you were supposed to say goodbye and go inside, but somehow neither of you seemed to want the night to end just yet.

——

Weeks had passed since your first date with Daniel, and much had changed since then. You had seen each other many times since then, going on numerous dates and spending countless hours talking and getting to know each other better.

Even though you had only been official for a few months, you felt as though you had known each other for years. Daniel had become a constant presence in your life, his presence both comforting and exhilarating at the same time.

As you sat on your couch, mindlessly flipping through channels on the TV, you heard a knock on your door. You looked up, surprised that anyone would be visiting you unannounced at this hour. You got up from the couch and walked over to the door, wondering who could be on the other side. As soon as you opened the door, your heart skipped a beat as you saw who was standing in front of you.

Daniel stood there, looking unfairly attractive as usual, wearing a fitted shirt and jeans that hugged his muscular frame. He had a small smile playing on his lips, his eyes scanning your face intently.

“Hey,” he said, his voice low and smooth. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything,” he added, leaning one arm against the doorframe. You shook your head, feeling a flutter in your chest at the sight of him. “No, not at all. Come in” you said, stepping aside to let him enter your apartment.

He walked inside, his tall frame making your small apartment seem even smaller. He looked around the room, seemingly taking in every detail. 

“Cute place.” he finally said, turning to face you.

“Thanks,” you said with a small smile, feeling a bit nervous under his gaze. “So, what brings you here? Not that I mind, of course” you added quickly, not wanting him to think you didn’t want him there.

He smiled at your nervousness, clearly amused. “Can’t I just come over and see my girlfriend?” he asked, the word girlfriend rolling off his tongue effortlessly. He chuckled, clearly seeing through your act. 

“Girlfriend I didn’t know I was your girlfriend already” you replied coolly with a smile. 

“You’re such a bad liar,” he said, stepping closer to you. He was now standing so close to you that you could feel the heat radiating off his body.

He gently reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering on your skin for a few seconds longer than necessary. His touch sent a shiver down your spine, and you felt your breath catch in your throat. “You know I can read you like an open book, right?” he said in a low voice.

Daniel took another step forward, and now his body was almost touching yours. You could feel the heat he was radiating, and you found yourself leaning into him involuntarily.

“I know you like it when I call you, girlfriend” he whispered, his lips brushing gently against the shell of your ear. You could feel your heart racing in your chest, and you knew he was well aware of the effect he had on you.

Without another word, Daniel lowered his head and pressed a kiss to your neck, his lips soft and warm against your skin. You tried to keep your breathing steady, but it hitched as his lips moved to your jawline, trailing small kisses down to your collarbone.

He continued to press kisses to your skin, his teeth nipping gently at your collarbone. His hands came up to rest on your hips, his fingers digging into your flesh as he pulled you closer to him. You could feel his body pressed up against yours, every inch of him solid and warm.

“You know, I’ve missed you” he murmured against your skin, his lips moving back up to your neck. He nipped at the sensitive spot behind your ear, causing your legs to almost buckle at the action.

“I missed you too, if I’m being honest I hate when you leave for long periods” you responded.

“I know, I hate it too,” he said, his hands tracing small circles on your hips. “I wish I could stay here with you all the time but, well, sometimes work calls” he added, his lips tracing a path down your neck again. 

He pressed another kiss to your collarbone before lifting his head to look at you. His eyes met yours, and you could see the mixture of affection and hunger in his gaze. “But I’m here now,” he said, his hands sliding around to your lower back. He pulled you closer to him, his body now pressed tightly against yours, leaving no space between the two of you.

You could feel the heat and hardness of his chest through his shirt, and you could hear the steady thrum of his heartbeat. His scent surrounded you, a mix of musk and aftershave, and you couldn’t help but inhale deeply, craving more.

He pressed his forehead against yours, his fingers playing with the hem of your shirt as he spoke again. “And I plan on making the most of it.”

The intensity in his words sent a shiver down your spine, and you could feel the heat pooling in your belly. “You always do” you managed to say, struggling to keep your voice steady under the weight of his gaze.

He chuckled at your response, seemingly pleased by your admission. “Damn right, I do,” he said, his voice dropping to a sultry whisper. 

———

Months later 

You hadn’t seen Daniel in a few weeks due to him going out of town for work. You knew he was going to be home later in the evening so you wanted to surprise him. Walking up the pathway to the front door you took out the key to Daniel’s house that he gave you and unlocked the door. As you stepped inside, the house was quiet and dimly lit. It was clear that Daniel wasn't home yet, but you knew he would be back soon. You set down your bag by the door and made your way further into the house.

The familiar scent of his cologne lingered in the air, and you took a deep breath, feeling a wave of nostalgia wash over you. You missed him a lot more than you’d expected. You walked through the living room and into the kitchen, debating whether to make something to eat or just wait for Daniel to arrive. As you stood by the counter, lost in thought, you heard a faint sound in the other room. It sounded like a soft thump, followed by a muffled curse.

Concerned, you left the kitchen and headed towards the source of the noise. As you reached the door to the study, you heard another sound, followed by a low groan. 

You quietly opened the door and stepped inside your heart racing. When your eyes focused on the figure in the room, your heart skipped a beat.

 standing in the middle of the room there Daniel was surrounded by other men who stood around a man who was tied to a chair in front of Daniel. The man tied to the chair was beaten badly. Daniel's eyes were dark and intense, and his expression was colder than usual. He was wearing a black suit, the top buttons of his shirt undone, revealing a hint of his chest.

The other men in the room were all dressed similarly, and they stood off to the side, watching intently. It was clear that they were either bodyguards or associates of some sort. One of them stepped forward and handed Daniel a knife, which he took without hesitation. 

Daniel took a step closer to the man tied to the chair, his eyes scanning over him with a mixture of anger and disdain. You watched in shock as he placed the tip of the knife under the man's chin, lifting his head to meet his gaze.

“What did I tell you?” Daniel asked, his voice laced with barely contained fury. The man in the chair, who was terrified, trembled visibly at the sound of Daniel's voice. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. Instead, he just looked up at Daniel with wide, fearful eyes. 

“Cat got your tongue?” Daniel said, his tone almost mocking. He pressed the knife a little harder against the man's skin, just enough to draw a thin trickle of blood. The other man winced and let out a small whimper.

The other men behind Daniel let out small chuckles, clearly enjoying the sight of the man in distress. You stood there, frozen in shock and disbelief, not sure what to do or say.

Daniel leaned closer to the man, his eyes never leaving his face. “You know what I do to people who talk too much?” he asked, his voice dropping to a menacing whisper.

The man in the chair frantically shook his head, tears streaming down his face. He looked terrified.

“No? Well, that's a shame.” Daniel said, his tone still cool and mocking. “I thought I made it clear to you that I don't like it when people talk too much.” he continued, his eyes narrowing. “And yet here we are, with you bleeding and tied to a chair. Did you think I was joking?” he added, his voice growing colder with each word. The other men in the room shifted their weight, clearly enjoying the show. They knew not to interfere, Daniel was the boss and this man had wronged him in some way.

Daniel ran the tip of the knife lightly over the man's cheek, leaving a thin trail of red in its wake. “I guess I need to teach you some manners, huh?” he said, his voice a low growl. “Maybe then you'll learn to shut your damn mouth.”

The man in the chair began to sob loudly, pleading for mercy. “Please, I'll do anything! I'm sorry! I'll never do it again, I swear!” he cried out, his voice breaking with fear and desperation.

Daniel seemed unmoved by the man's pleading. He let out a humorless chuckle and looked over at the other men in the room. “You hear that?” he said, motioning to the man. “He says he's sorry. Do you think I care?”

The men in the room all shook their heads, some of them letting out more chuckles at the sight of the man's desperation. One of them spoke up, "He's worthless boss. Just get rid of him."

Daniel thought about it for a moment, his eyes still locked on the man in the chair. “You know what? You're right. Let's end this.” he said, his tone cold and detached. He turned to one of the men, handing him the knife. “Finish it,” he said simply, before stepping away from the man and walking over to the other side of the room.

The man who had been given the knife stepped forward, a cruel smile playing on his face. The man with the knife just laughed at his pleading. “Too late for that, buddy,” he said, his tone smug. “You should have thought of that before you crossed him.” He brought the knife up to the man's throat, the blade glinted in the light. The man in the chair let out a shrill scream just as one of Daniel’s men stabbed him in the chest. 

“No!!” You screamed making yourself known to the others. Daniel whipped around to face you. Daniel's eyes widened in surprise as he saw you standing there, horror etched on your face. He seemed caught off guard by your appearance, and for a moment he just stared at you. Then, he took a step towards you, his expression unreadable.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, his voice cold and guarded. The other men in the room all turned to look at you, their eyes appraising you with curiosity and suspicion. You stood there, frozen in shock and fear. You hadn't expected to walk in on a scene like this, and the sight of the man being beaten and stabbed right in front of you was almost too much to handle.

“I-uh-I gotta go,” you said running down the hallway and out the front door to your car.

Daniel watched you leave, a mixture of shock and anger etched on his face. He was about to go after you when one of his men spoke up.

“You gonna go after her?” he asked a hint of amusement in his voice.

“Baby wait!” Daniel called out after you his heart sank in his chest and he felt like he was going to be sick. You heard Daniel's voice behind you, but you didn't stop. You kept walking, your heart racing and your mind reeling from what you just witnessed.

Daniel called out again, his voice pleading now. "Please, wait! I can explain!"

Despite your anger and fear, you reluctantly stopped in your tracks. You turned to face him, your eyes swimming with tears.

"Explain? Explain what, exactly?" you said, your voice shaking with emotion.

Daniel took a few steps towards you, his expression earnest and remorseful. "Please, just give me a minute to explain," he said, his voice softer now.

You stood there, your arms wrapped tightly around your middle, trying to keep calm. "Fine," you said, taking a deep breath. "Explain."

He ran a hand through his hair, looking frustrated and anxious. "That guy, he's...he's a rival gang member. He crossed a line, and I had to deal with it," he said, his voice low and serious.

"And dealing with it involves beating him up and having him killed? In one of your spare rooms m?" you asked, your voice rising in disbelief.

Daniel let out a sigh, his hand running through his hair again. "It's not that simple," he said, his tone still gentle. "This is how things work in my world. You knew that when we started dating."

"But I didn't expect to walk in on a scene like that!" you exclaimed, your voice cracking slightly. "Watching you torture someone...it was terrifying. I've never seen anything like that before."

Daniel's expression softened, and he took another step towards you. "I know it was shocking," he said, his voice quiet and sincere. "But you have to understand, this is my life. This is what I do. And I can't change that, no matter how much I might want to."

"But what about me?" you asked, your voice shaking. "How am I supposed to feel safe and secure in a relationship with you, knowing what you're capable of?"

Daniel took another step closer, reaching out to touch your arm. "I would never hurt you," he said, his voice low and firm. "Please, you have to believe me. You're the most important thing in my life, and I would never do anything to put you in danger."

You wanted to believe him, you did. But the image of the man who was beaten and stabbed was still fresh in your mind, and it was hard to reconcile that image with the man standing in front of you.

"It's just...I don't know if I can handle this. What I just saw, it's not something I can just ignore," you said, your voice shaking with emotion.

Daniel's expression hardened slightly, and he withdrew his hand from your arm. "So you're saying you can't accept my life?" he asked, his voice laced with disappointment.

"I..." you started, struggling to find the right words. "I don't know," you admitted, your voice small and uncertain. "I just...I need time to process all of this."

Daniel's expression softened again, and he let out a deep sigh. "I understand," he said, his voice sounding resigned. "You need space. I get it."

He took a step back, giving you some space. "Just...promise me you'll come back when you're ready to talk," he said, his eyes searching your face.

You nodded, still feeling a mixture of emotions swirling inside you. "I promise," you said quietly, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Okay," he said, his voice quiet and resigned. "I'll give you space. Just please, be careful and stay safe." With that, he turned and walked back towards the house, leaving you standing there alone in the dark. You stood there for a few moments, watching him go, your mind racing with thoughts and emotions. You knew you needed time to sort out your feelings and figure out what to do next. But deep down, you also knew that you could never forget what you had just witnessed.

With a lump in your throat, you turned back towards your car and climbed inside, feeling more confused and scared than ever before. As you drove away, leaving Daniel and his world behind, you couldn't help feeling like your life had been irrevocably changed.

———-

Days turned into weeks, and you hadn't contacted Daniel since that fateful night. You had been avoiding any kind of communication, needing time to sort out your thoughts and feelings. But as the days went on, you felt a nagging sense of guilt and longing whenever you thought about him, wondering if he was okay.

Daniel's world was one of danger and violence, and he was so used to being surrounded by it that he didn't realize its effect on others. But for you, the sight of him tormenting and killing that man had been a shocking wake-up call. You had never been exposed to that kind of life before, and it terrified you. The thought of being involved with someone capable of such violence and cruelty was daunting.

You had been struggling to reconcile the Daniel you knew – the gentle, caring boyfriend who had shown you only tenderness and kindness – with the Daniel you had witnessed that night, someone who was cold and dangerous. Despite your fears and uncertainties, you couldn't shake off the feeling that you cared deeply for him. You missed the moments of laughter, the stolen kisses, and the comfort of his presence. You missed his easy smile and the way he could make you feel wanted and adored.

One night, as you were tossing and turning in bed, unable to sleep, you heard a faint knock at your door. You sat up, your heart skipping a beat. Could it be Daniel? You got up and walked towards the door, your mind racing with mixed emotions. Part of you was terrified at the thought of seeing him, but another part of you was itching to see his face and hear his voice.

You hesitantly opened the door, revealing Daniel standing there on the other side. He looked tired, worried, bruised, battered, and beaten but his expression softened as soon as he saw you.

"Can I come in?" he asked, his voice quiet and weary. You felt a lurch in your chest at the sight of him, the emotions coursing through you in a confusing jumble. You hesitated for a moment, unsure of what to say or do. But then, without thinking, you nodded and stepped aside, allowing him to enter. Daniel stepped inside, his eyes fixed on you. He looked like he hadn't slept in days, with dark circles under his eyes and a haggard expression on his face. The sight of him like this made your heart hurt.

The two of you stood there in silence, neither of you quite knowing what to say or do. The air was thick with tension, and the silence was deafening.

Finally, Daniel spoke up, his voice cracking slightly. "I've missed you," he said, his expression full of vulnerability. Hearing his voice, you felt a wave of emotions wash over you. You wanted to stay mad at him, to keep your walls up and protect yourself, but it was as if the very sight of him had broken down all your defenses.

You didn't say anything, but you didn't need to. The look in your eyes spoke volumes. You missed him too, more than you wanted to admit. Daniel took a step closer to you, his eyes searching your face. "I know you're scared," he said, his voice low and earnest. "I know what I do is not something you can easily accept. But please, let me make it up to you."

Without thinking, you reached out and traced your fingers over the bruises and cuts on his face, feeling a pang of sympathy and concern. "You look like you've been through hell," you said, your voice soft and gentle.

Daniel let out a weary sigh, tilting his head slightly into your touch. "It's been a rough week," he admitted, his eyes closing briefly at the feel of your fingers on his skin. 

The two of you stood there like that for a few moments, not speaking, just drinking each other in. Despite your earlier resolve to keep your distance, you found yourself unable to resist the magnetic pull of his presence.

The silence stretched on, the only sound the faint hum of the city outside and your breaths mingling together. Finally, you spoke up, breaking the heavy silence between you. "I don't know what to do, Daniel," you said softly, your voice shaky.

Daniel opened his eyes and looked at you, his gaze intense and unwavering. "Do you want me to leave?" he asked, his voice taut with anticipation.

Your breath caught in your throat as you met his eyes. You wanted to say yes, to push him away and keep yourself safe. But something held you back, something deep inside that refused to let him go.

"No," you whispered, your voice barely audible. "I don't want you to go." A relieved exhale escaped from Daniel's lips, and he took another step closer to you. His hands twitched at his sides as if he wanted to reach out and touch you but wasn't sure if it was welcome.

“Let’s get you cleaned up” you whispered looking at him. Daniel gave you a weak smile, relief, and gratitude in his eyes. "Okay," he said quietly, following you into the bathroom.

You sat him down on the edge of the bathtub and began rummaging through your medical supplies, grabbing some antiseptic and bandages. As you tended to his wounds, you were acutely aware of his presence, the heat of his body, and the steady rise and fall of his chest.

The silence was heavy as you worked, the only sound was the occasional hiss from Daniel as you cleaned his cuts. His eyes were fixed on you, watching your every move with a mixture of pain and something deeper, something more intense.

When you finished cleaning his wounds, you gently placed a small bandage over a particularly deep gash on his forehead. "There," you said quietly, your hands lingering on his skin for a moment longer than necessary.

Daniel lifted his hand, covering yours with his own. His skin was warm and rough, the contrast between your soft fingers and his calloused palms sending a shiver down your spine. He looked up at you then, his eyes meeting yours, and for a brief moment, the world seemed to stop. There was so much unspoken emotion in his gaze, so much longing and desire.

“Please forgive me I’ll do anything baby and I mean anything,” Daniel says his voice was raw and pleading, and the sight of him like this tugged at something deep within you. The way he was looking at you, the desperation in his eyes, made it hard to hold onto your anger and fear.

"Anything?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, not entirely sure what you were asking for.

"Anything," Daniel repeated, his voice almost a growl, his gaze intense as he looked into your eyes. "Name it, and I'll do it. Just...don't leave me."

His words sent a thrill through you, the intensity of his plea setting your heart racing. You knew you should push him away, maintain your distance, and protect yourself, but the way he was looking at you, the desperation in his voice...it was undoing all your defenses.

You took a small step closer to him, your hands still resting on his face. "I'm trying to forgive you, Daniel," you said quietly, your voice hoarse with emotion. "But it's not easy, not after what I saw. I can't forget it, no matter how much I want to."

Daniel let out a ragged sigh, his eyes closing briefly as he leaned into your touch. "I know," he said, his voice thick with emotion. "And I don't expect you to just forget about it. But please, give me a chance to make it up to you. I can't lose you."

The pleading tone of his voice sent a wave of sympathy through you, and you couldn't help but soften a little. "How can I trust you?" you asked quietly, your fingers tracing the edge of his jaw. "How can I know that you won't drag me into something dangerous again?"

Daniel sighed, his eyes falling closed again as he basked in the feeling of your touch. "I promise you, I will do everything in my power to keep you safe. You'll never have to see that side of me again, I swear it."

He lifted his hand, grasping your wrist and pressing your palm against his cheek, holding your hand in place. "Please," he repeated, his voice barely above a whisper. "Please give me another chance. I love you."

Those three words, spoken with such raw emotion, shook you to your core. The realization that he truly loved you, despite everything that had happened, was both exhilarating and terrifying.

"I love you too," you heard yourself saying, the words slipping out before you could stop them. And as soon as they were out, you knew they were true. Despite all your fears and reservations, you loved him too, wholeheartedly and completely.

—————-

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[inthedayswhenlandswerefew]

Where Will All The Martyrs Go [Chapter 9: Some Days He Feels Like Dying]

A/N: Below are your guesses...let's see how you did!!! 🥰😘

Series summary: In the midst of the zombie apocalypse, both you and Aemond (and your respective travel companions) find yourselves headed for the West Coast. It’s the 2024 version of the Oregon Trail, but with less dysentery and more undead antagonists. Watch out for snakes! 😉🐍

Series warnings: Language, sexual content (18+ readers only), violence, bodily injury, med school Aemond, character deaths, nature, drinking, smoking, drugs, Adventures With Aegon™️, pregnancy and childbirth, the U.S. Navy, road trip vibes.

Series title is a lyric from: “Letterbomb” by Green Day.

Chapter title is a lyric from: “Extraordinary Girl” by Green Day.

Word count: 8.3k

💜 All my writing can be found HERE! 💜

Let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist 🥰

Let’s go back to the beginning of the end of the world.

On the big-screen tv in the Liberty Center at Saratoga Springs, Wolf Blitzer is saying: “We are receiving confirmation of additional outbreaks of the so-called Florida Fever, the first cases of which here in the U.S. were reported in Miami a little over one week ago. Concern is now growing nationally, especially as the modes of transmission, symptoms, and treatment options remain unclear. Let’s go across the country to Natasha Chen for the latest information. Natasha?”

“Hi, Wolf. I’m here outside the UC San Diego Medical Center where early this morning, two individuals suspected to be suffering from the illness were admitted. I’ve been informed by hospital staff that both patients are currently in stable condition, but there is still so much confusion and conflicting information regarding this ‘Florida Fever,’ and of course that uncertainty is leading to fear, rumors, and honestly a bit of hysteria. Even how to refer to the sickness is controversial, with no official name having been decided upon by scientists. Cases in Australia are known as Ragepox, the U.K. has dubbed it the 21st Century Sweat after a mysterious disease from the 1500s, and Russia is calling it the Ukrainian Flu while Ukraine has opted for the Russian Red Rot, inspired by the skin lesions that some patients experience.”

“Can you tell us what we do know, Natasha? Are doctors classifying this illness as a virus, or as a bacterial infection more akin to tuberculosis or meningitis?”

“At this time, what I’m hearing is that doctors are fairly certain it’s a virus, as patients do not seem to respond to antibiotics when they’ve been explored as a potential treatment. But there’s truly very little information at this early stage, and I think we’re all being reminded of those first days of the Covid-19 pandemic, when no one really knew how to best to avoid contracting the virus or what the long-term effects would be both nationally and globally.”

“There are absolutely some similarities, Natasha, which I’m sure is contributing to the unease surrounding the situation. What precautions are doctors currently recommending?”

“Wolf, doctors are urging the public not to panic, and to exercise common sense measures like avoiding crowded spaces, sanitizing surfaces, and staying home if they’re feeling unwell. Suspected cases of the illness should be reported to primary physicians or local hospitals. Typical symptoms appear to include headaches, fever, gastrointestinal upset, skin discoloration and blistering, and unusual bleeding, as well as behavioral changes, particularly disorientation, aggression, and even violence in some patients…”

“That ain’t what it is,” Rio says. He jabs his index finger at the tv from where he sits on the couch beside you. “Snowflake wasn’t sick, he was dead. He was motherfucking dead, flatline, code blue, crossed the rainbow bridge, he was gone. He was dead and then he woke back up, and he wasn’t a person anymore. He was…something else.”

“Dumbass, people don’t come back from the dead,” Mike says from the ping pong table. People are milling around pretending to play pool, darts, chess, poker, Monopoly, Uno, Parcheesi, but really you’re all here for the same reason. You want to know what’s happening.

Rio turns to you. “Wasn’t Snowflake dead?”

“He definitely seemed dead,” you reply, knees tucked to your chest and still watching the tv. Wolf Blitzer’s voice is calm, but his pale blue eyes have a manic sort of light to them, too large and too rattled.

“Man, fuck Florida,” says Desmond, a utilitiesman born and raised Trenton, New Jersey. “Nothing but psychos and alligators. Saw them off of Georgia and just let them float away.”

“What was that?” Tyler replies combatively. He’s from a trailer park in Tallahassee.

“Ty, why do you care? You’d be fine. You’re already up here. You can stay.”

“They’re lying,” Rio mutters, meaning Wolf and Natasha on CNN. “When the corpsmen called the hospital, they said to be prepared to restrain Snowflake and that he might try to bite us. Why aren’t they warning people about that?!”

Kayleigh, a steelworker from Oklahoma City, looses a frenetic sort of laugh. “Because there’s no non-panic-inducing way to say: Hey, go buy some duct tape and bungee cords to tie up your loved ones, because they might try to fucking eat you.”

Rio doesn’t frown often, but he is now; he slips his phone out of the pocket of his camo pants and types out a WhatsApp message to Sophie. You only know her from photos and quick hellos via video chat, a sweet diminutive woman with white-blonde hair and blue eyes that seem to fill up half her face, as fragile as Rio is overwhelming. She likes baking and romance novels and elephants; whenever Rio finds elephant-themed souveners, he ships them home to Oregon for her, refrigerator magnets and wallets and scarves and snow globes. Sophie wears a lot of long flowing skirts and hand-knit sweaters, and offers strange suggestions when she and Rio discuss baby names: Sage, Fox, Laurel, Coral, Juniper, Karma, Rune, Otter. Otter?! Rio had exclaimed. Babe, if you name our kid Otter, even I’M gonna have to bully them.

“I’m telling Sophie to stay with my parents,” Rio says to you. “They’ve gotten super weird with all the off-the-grid stuff, but they have years’ worth of supplies and grow most of their own food now, and they’re thirty miles from the nearest town. And no one knows how to defend themselves like doomsday preppers.”

“Good idea,” you reply, watching the tv. Now Wolf Blitzer is talking about tornadoes in the Midwest, and you could almost believe the world is normal again.

A few days later all major social media platforms begin censoring content related to the so-called Florida Fever, and then the internet goes down completely, and then the power turns off and on and off again, and finally quits like a car driven to its last mile. The combat units are moved out of Saratoga Springs—never to be heard from again—and the construction projects paused indefinitely, and one of the master-at-arms that Rio is friends with (Rio has a lot of friends, surely you aren’t so remarkable) relays information that he shouldn’t: tales of planned missions, impossible plagues, overrun cities, innumerable deserters in every branch of the U.S. military.

“Hey,” Rio whispers, shaking you awake one night, moonlight streaming through the windows and the pops of distant gunfire you aren’t supposed to ask about. “If I leave, will you come with me?”

It’s a big commitment; it could be a lifetime. You fear he might just be trying not to hurt your feelings. “I don’t want to slow you down.”

“No, you don’t get it,” Rio says. “I’m not leaving without you. Are you going to Oregon by choice, or should I tie you up and throw you in the back of the Humvee?”

~~~~~~~~~~

It’s a young one, maybe a teenager, little buds for horns and only weighing a few hundred pounds. This is good; if it was any heavier, Cregan and Rio wouldn’t be able to drag it back to the ranch. You’re still in Red Desert, Wyoming, and the bison are grazing just off I-80, an asphalt artery that cuts through an endless steppe of sand-colored rocks and tall grass. They gaze lazily in your direction with bulbous dark eyes, perpetually chewing, not terribly intelligent. The Colt pistols of the men who found you at the RV had been loaded with 9mm bullets, the same caliber your Berettas take; there weren’t many, but enough to fill both of your clips, something that feels like winning the lottery. You are lying on the rocky, dusty soil and lining up the shot. If you miss, the herd will scatter, and you’ll watch dinner vanish beneath a blue sky—pale like Aemond’s eye, a weak shallow blue—and rough white scars of cirrostratus clouds.

“Feels kind of wrong to kill a baby,” you murmur. Daeron, Luke, Baela, Helaena, and Ice are back at the house. Aemond, Rio, Cregan, Rhaena, and Aegon are here on the ground with you; Aegon insisted upon being brought along, and Rio agreed to carry him. Aegon had never seen American bison outside of the Oregon Trail computer game, those pixelated brown blobs migrating across the screen no more material than unicorns or faeries or basilisks.

“If the baby didn’t want to get killed, it shouldn’t be made of steak,” Aegon points out. He’s on a lot of Vicodin, the only narcotic Aemond could find back in Ogallala, Nebraska.

“No pressure, Chips,” Rio says, chewing on a long blade of little bluestem grass. “If you miss we’re just going to have to eat each other like the Donner Party.”

Aegon wrinkles his nose in confusion. “The what?”

“She won’t miss,” Aemond says, and Rio snickers to himself and gives you a quick wink that no one else notices.

“I don’t think one 9mm bullet will do it,” Cregan mutters. “Cows got thick skulls, I figure bison are the same way. You’ll have to hit it a few times, and before it can take off and disappear on us.”

Aemond casts him a patronizing glance. “And you’ve killed a lot of cows?”

“Oh yeah. Worked in a slaughterhouse for a while before I got hired by the power company. Hated it, went home and could still smell the blood and brains on myself no matter how many times I showered. Couldn’t get out of there fast enough.”

Aemond looks like he regrets asking. Rhaena frowns worriedly at the bison. “Will they charge if someone shoots at them?”

Cregan shrugs. “Probably not.”

“Probably?!”

You squeeze the trigger five times in quick succession, hit the calf thrice, tiny puffs of scarlet mist that spring from its woolly head. It flops over as the rest of the herd jolts into a gallop, kicking up dust and fleeing across the steppe.

“Yes!” Rio booms as everyone applauds. “We’re in business! We’re having ribeyes tonight! Cregan, my good sir, I take mine medium rare.”

“You’re getting well done,” Aemond tells him. “Everyone is. Just in case the bison has parasites.”

Rio groans. “You’re ruining my life, man.” Then he and Cregan trot over to grab the baby bison, each of them taking one of its back hooves.

“So,” Aegon says dreamily. “Now that Rio is preoccupied, who would like to assist me in returning my disgusting, debilitated body to the ranch? Anyone? Anyone?”

Rhaena turns to you. “When we have more bullets, could you give me shooting lessons?”

“Sure,” you reply, a bit startled. “Really? You’re interested?”

“Well…” Rhaena hesitates. “Baela’s always been the brave one. At home, at school, when we were shopping, even when restaurants would mess up my order, Baela would do the talking and make sure I was alright…and I would literally hide behind her waiting for her to solve all my problems. And now…with the baby, with Jace…it’s been really different being the one to help her for a change, and I don’t think I’m very good at it yet. But Baela deserves to have people to lean on, just like I’ve always had her. And…when I stabbed that guy in the RV…I kind of liked it.” She titters nervously when she sees the shock on your face. “No, not like that! Not the killing part, or the gushing blood, that was all super gross. But the fact that I helped protect Baela and Luke? The fact that I wasn’t useless in that situation? That was a good feeling. Baela is clever, and she’s courageous and caring and funny, and she’s always been better than me at everything, and I never minded because she…she was like my own personal superhero, you know? But now I feel like I need to start learning how to do things myself so I can help her. Even if Baela is still better at everything, and probably always will be.”

Aegon grins toothily and pushes his neon green plastic sunglasses up the bridge of his nose. “I know how you feel. It’s pretty impossible to look heroic next to Aemond.”

“Stop,” Aemond says, but he’s smiling, and a bloom of bashful pink blood appears in his cheeks.

“You already took over the driving,” you tell Rhaena encouragingly. “That was a big help.”

“Yeah,” Rhaena replies, a bit pensive. “Let’s hope I can keep that going.” Between the gas Aemond found in Ogallala and what was siphoned from the would-be attackers’ GMC Yukon, you got enough fuel in the Tahoe to take it halfway across Wyoming; but now the gauge is not just at but venturing below the E, and it can’t have more than five or ten miles left. That might not even get you to the next ranch, let alone a proper town. You need a working vehicle. There are nearly a thousand miles between here and Odessa, Oregon.

Aegon is pawing at Aemond like a cat. “Come on, hero. Help me up.”

~~~~~~~~~~

“This is why we’re friends,” Rio tells you as he shovels forkfuls of bison steak into his mouth, juice dribbling down his chin. Cregan gutted the bison and butchered it, then you helped him cook the steaks—not very uniform in size and shape, yet no one is complaining—on a pan heated in the woodstove. You fed the fire with books you found in the house, mostly religious in nature. “You convince me not to commit suicide when we’re stranded on a transmission tower, you share your Cheddar Whales, you’re good at shooting things…”

“How did you two become friends?” Baela asks. You are all arranged around the dining room table; there are just enough chairs for everyone. Ice lies beneath it mauling on bison bones that Cregan set aside for her. The room is illuminated by flashlights. Baela looks great: in good spirits, glowing, alert, wearing a loose cotton dress that Helaena found in an upstairs closet for her. Baela napped most of the day, something she rarely allows herself to indulge in, and the benefits are evident.

Rio says nonchalantly: “I talked to everybody and she barely talked at all. So of course I had to investigate and figure out what that was about. Turns out she’s kind of cool. You know the Wheel of Fortune game at arcades where there’s like a hundred little lights in a circle you have to press the button when the one that says Spin Zone lights up? She’s a freak, she can hit it almost every time. Can’t sink a basketball or sing karaoke to save her life, but you know, we all have flaws.”

Aegon looks up from his map, which he is scrutinizing as he eats his bison steak. “Do you realize that if we could just stop at gas stations like back when everything was normal, we’d be in Odessa or the Bay Area in fifteen hours? Literally less than one day. Fucking unreal. And yet here we are trapped in yee-haw country, freaky giant animals, no civilization but Jesus billboards everywhere, hell on earth.” He holds up a palm. “No offense, Cregan. You’re okay.”

Cregan smiles mildly. “None taken, Fried Foot. You know you’re a little well done yourself these days.”

“That’s ableist,” Aegon replies.

“We’ll find gas tomorrow,” Aemond says. He sounds confident because he has to; he’s not allowed to panic, to give up. He’s seated at the head of the table like a patriarch. His steak is the smallest and the most ragged. He wouldn’t accept any of the others.

You ask Baela: “Have you decided what to name the baby?”

“Kind of.” She rests both hands on her belly, a globe like a full moon. Helaena glances over at Baela, frowning and preoccupied. “If it’s a boy, I’m going to name it after Jace. We had already picked out Theodore…and Teddy for short, isn’t that cute? But now…I’d want him to have that connection to his father. The baby won’t have any pictures of him, or videos, or memories, or papers he wrote in school, or ties or rings or cufflinks, or…anything. But he could have Jace’s name.”

The rest of you nod, eyes downcast and feeling terribly sorry for her. “I really like that idea,” Luke says quietly.

Now Baela is thinking, her gaze traveling around the room as she chews on a cube of streak. “I’m not sure what I’d call a girl. Maybe something naturey like Violet, Rosemary, Ivy, Indigo, Fern…”

“You should name it Otter,” you say, and you and Rio erupt into raucous laughter. Aemond smiles as he watches you.

Baela is grinning uncertainly, trying not to be insensitive. Perhaps people named their kids stuff like Otter where you came from. “Um, sorry, what?!”

“That was one of the baby names on Sophie’s list,” Rio clarifies. “I vetoed it. Or at least…I think she agreed to cross it off…? Oh my God, imagine I finally get to Odessa only to find out my firstborn child has been named Otter.”

“You’d have to turn right back around,” you say. “Total abandonment would be the only honorable choice. We’d have to start over someplace else. I’ve heard Texas is nice.”

Aegon snorts. “You can’t live in Texas. They don’t even have legal weed there.”

Rhaena squints at him. “I don’t really think that’s a concern anymore, Aegon.”

Aegon smacks his forehead theatrically. “Oh no, I forgot about the apocalypse again!”

“So Cregan,” Baela says. “You were planning to vote for Trump.”

Everyone at the table groans. “No politics,” Aemond says.

“They’re all dead now, so it doesn’t matter,” Rhaena adds. “Biden, Kamala, that insane Kennedy brain worm dude, Trump…”

Aegon says: “If I was a zombie, I wouldn’t eat Trump.”

“I just found that interesting,” Baela continues, looking at Cregan like she’s expecting him to explain himself. Rhaena and Luke exchange a nervous glance. Daeron reaches under the table to pet Ice; you can hear her tail thumping cheerfully against the hardwood floor.

“I was a Trump voter, yeah,” Cregan replies between bites of steak. Aemond is studying him uneasily, but Cregan’s baritone voice is calm. “That doesn’t mean I approved of a lot of the things he did and said. I’m not a monster, I don’t believe in mocking people or all that January 6th stuff. But he was good for the economy. Back when Trump was president, groceries were more affordable, and houses were cheaper, and more companies were hiring. If I had tried to move out of my parents’ place in 2023 instead of 2019, there’s no way I could have done it. And I really needed to get out of there. A lot of people feel that they don’t have the luxury of voting for the nicest candidate, or the candidate they agree with on social issues. Something abstract like climate change isn’t even on the radar. They have to vote for their basic necessities.”

You and Rio understand what he means, you’ve both met plenty of people with the same perspective; everybody else seems shellshocked.

“But I don’t want y’all to think that I’m…” Cregan looks around the table, his eyes catching—interestingly—on Helaena, who observes him with a fully present attentiveness that you’ve learned is rare for her. “You know, like a sexist or a racist or that I hate foreigners or anything. Because I’ve never felt that way, and now I’m very happy to have found you guys, and I respect the hell out of you. And I want to be allowed to stay.”

“You can stay, Cregan,” Helaena reassures him.

“Yeah,” Rio says. “Especially since we’d probably starve without you.”

Cregan beams, clearly grateful, and there are chuckles and the tension breaks; and Baela is placidly skating her palm over the arc of her belly, and now that you’ve eaten all you can, Rio is spearing the remaining chunks of your steak with his fork and gobbling them down. He doesn’t ask before he does this; he knows you don’t mind. You’ve never understood why he’s given you so much over the past nearly five years. You are eternally offering him atonement.

Suddenly, Baela asks you: “What would you name a baby girl?”

You have to think about this before you answer. “Well, if you’re looking for something related to plants…I had a friend when I was growing up named Briar, and I always thought that was pretty.”

“Briar,” Baela echoes, intrigued.

“It means bramble, like a thorny shrub where blackberries grow. I remember her telling me that her mama wanted it to be a reminder that people go through rough patches and that life gets hard sometimes, but you have to keep going, and eventually you’ll find your way out.”

“Briar,” Baela repeats. “Yeah, that’s kind of neat. I’ll add it to the list!”

“And you’d have the same first initial,” Rhaena says. “Baela and Briar. Isn’t that adorable?”

Baela smiles. “And a few Rs thrown in there too. For Rhaena.”

Rio turns to Aegon. “Hey Honey Bun, if you had to name your kid after a plant, what would you name it?”

Aegon says without hesitation: “Marijuana.”

Now it’s an hour later, and Aemond is examining Aegon’s burned leg on the living room floor, Helaena holding a flashlight and you and Rio standing by for moral support. Underneath the bandages is a wasteland of red, weeping flesh…and yet there are spots where the skin seems to be hardening into white islands of scar tissue. Rhaena and Luke are keeping watch by the windows, Baela is passed out in one of the bedrooms, Cregan is showing Daeron how to put his wavy blonde hair up in a man bun.

Aemond points to a blackish patch on the top of Aegon’s foot, only a few inches from his ankle. “I have to debride this part here,” he says like an apology.

Aegon is afraid to ask. “What does debride mean?”

“It means I have to cut it out.”

“Cut it?!”

“It’s getting infected. I have to remove it or it will spread to the rest of the foot and you could get sepsis. I might even have to amputate the whole leg.”

“Okay, cut the dead stuff off,” Aegon swiftly agrees.

Aemond doesn’t have any more injectable morphine. He gives Aegon as much Vicodin as he dares and then begins working, carving away layers of dark disease with his scalpel and scrubbing the area with disinfectant. Aegon clutches your hand, squeezing so hard it feels like your bones might crunch, shrapnel-like splinters of marrow-stained organic glass beneath your skin. Rio has Aegon’s pink Sony Walkman—once owned by Ava—and takes one earbud while giving Aegon the other. They sing along to Sean Paul songs together, laughing as tears stream down Aegon’s sunburned cheeks:

“Well, woman, the way the time cold, I wanna be keepin’ you warm

I got the right temperature fi shelter you from the storm

Oh Lord, gal, I got the right tactics to turn you on

And girl, I wanna be the papa, you can be the mom…”

Now you’re curled up in bed, your arms crossed over your belly as you struggle to fall asleep. Aemond comes to bed late now; each night he waits until Baela is sleeping and then teaches Rhaena about childbirth and recovery: what to expect, what could go wrong. She is a good student, borrowing Helaena’s spider notebook to take notes and asking detailed questions. She wants to know everything she can so she can help when Baela goes into labor.

At last, the bedroom door opens. Out in the living room you can hear Rio asking: “Do you have Wagon Wheel? I love that song.”

Aegon scoffs. “No, of course I don’t have Wagon Wheel. Shut up and listen to your Enrique Iglesias.”

“You are so racist, man…”

Aemond sees that you’re in agony, rummages around in his medical kit, and gives you an oval-shaped white pill to wash down with the can of orange Sunkist on the nightstand; Helaena found a case of it in the pantry. “Why didn’t you tell me it was this bad?”

“I didn’t want to take any Vicodin from Aegon or Baela. They’ll need it more than me.”

“Your pain is as real as anyone else’s.” Aemond’s weight shifts the mattress as he crawls into bed beside you, his arm settling protectively around your waist, his hand covering yours where it rests on your lower belly. “If the Tahoe runs out of gas, will you be okay to walk tomorrow?”

“Don’t worry about me. I had three periods during basic training, I honestly thought I might die. After that I can power through just about anything.”

“I’ve noticed.” You feel the soft smile on Aemond’s lips as he kisses your temple. “Do you want quiet, or do you want to talk?”

“Talking would be a nice distraction.”

Aemond wastes no time. “Do you like kids?”

“Well, since birth control doesn’t exist anymore, I’d hope everybody does.”

Again, he is smiling; you can hear it in his voice. “Okay, but do you intend to have your own?”

“Yeah, I always envisioned myself having kids. I wanted a normal family and figured I’d have to make one myself, DIY it, you know? I don’t think the plan has changed. Gotta repopulate the earth somehow.”

“I wouldn’t try to sway your decision one way or the other. It’s a burden you should only have to endure if you actively choose it. But if you want to have children one day, I’d help you.”

You giggle in the dim orange glow of a single flashlight. “How self-sacrificial.”

“No,” Aemond says, laughing. “Not like, the making them. I mean, I’d help with that too, that aspect would be fun. But I was talking about the delivery, and recovery, and taking care of a newborn. I don’t know everything, but I know a lot. I could help you get through it. So that’s an option I want you to be aware of, if…you know.” Now he pauses. “If you trust me.”

“I trust you.”

“Sometimes I don’t know if you should,” Aemond murmurs; or at least that’s what you think he says as you lose consciousness, plummeting into sleep as if falling from a great height.

~~~~~~~~~~

The Tahoe runs out of gas just east of Tipton—not a city, not a town, just a collection of service roads linking sprawling ranches to I-80, the only continuous route across southern Wyoming—and Rhaena guides the SUV as it coasts to a halt on the shoulder of the highway. You hike about a mile to the nearest ranch house: Luke carrying the siphoning hose and empty gas can in case you can find fuel, Rio carrying Aegon on his back, Baela walking slowly and with great effort, Ice panting as she lopes across the dusty earth. You can’t spot any cattle or horses behind the endless strings of barbed wire fencing. Perhaps they are in a different pasture, or escaped or were stolen, or died of thirst without being tended to, or were consumed by a wandering hoard of zombies, never sleeping and always hungry. The house at the end of the dirt driveway is modest, old, and painted white. The front door is open; the screen door bangs in the wind.

“Rock Springs is the next real town,” Aegon says when Rio drops him to the ground, reading his map.

“And how far is that?” Rio asks.

Aegon deflates. “About fifty miles.”

“Great,” Rhaena says. “What’s the plan, to fly there?”

“Yeah, start flapping your wings, little bird. You’re light enough, you can make it.”

“No car in the driveway,” you tell Aemond. “Nobody home, maybe?”

He’s scrutinizing the house, his blue eye narrow. “Maybe.”

A thought occurs to Aegon. “Do you think ranchers have golf clubs?” he asks hopefully.

“No,” Aemond snaps. Rio is now on the front porch and pounding the butt of his unloaded Remington shotgun against the doorframe to see if anyone appears. Daeron is nocking one of his makeshift arrows as he trots around the perimeter with his compound bow.

Luke, peering through his binoculars, points to a large cylindrical aluminum structure about a hundred yards from the house, by a small red barn. “What’s that thing?”

“It’s a grain bin,” Cregan says. “Full of feed for cattle.” Ice whimpers at his feet, and he twirls his axe in his large, calloused hands. “Are we clearing the house or not? Something’s in there.”

“We are,” Aemond answers tonelessly. “Luke, Rhaena, stay out here with Aegon and watch for trouble. Daeron, you too.”

“Got it.”

“Baela—”

“Can I go inside?” she asks. “Please, Aemond. I’m so sick of sitting around feeling useless and exhausted. I want to help. I want to do something, I’m going insane.”

“Fine,” Aemond agrees. “It should be an easy one.”

It is easy, but it’s not pleasant. The house smells like dark, sickening decay. In the living room are the skeletal remains of two bodies, both children judging by the size; the maroon-stained bones are notched with indents from gnashing teeth. Cregan shadows Helaena as she searches through closets and drawers. She takes no clothing—it would have absorbed the stench of death—but fills her burlap messenger bag with matches, lighters, batteries, pills. She gives you a bottle of Advil before you can ask her for it.

“Thanks,” you say, a bit startled, as you tuck it away in your backpack.

It is not until Ice leads you to the final room, the bedroom at the rear of the house, that you hear the familiar, blood-chilling hissing and moaning of a zombie. It is in the closet, and emerges one limb at a time: one arm and then another, one leg long like a spider’s, streaked with a thick soup of rotting organs that spills from a gaping hole in her belly like the mouth of a mineshaft. Something has happened to its other leg; it is missing, and the corpse that was once a thirties-something woman—a soccer mom, perhaps, with a minivan and propensity to make meatloaf and fish sticks—drags itself across the fawn-colored carpet towards you, slow and pathetic. Ice growls and barks. Rio raises his Remington.

“Wait,” Baela says. Her hammer is in her right hand. “Can I do it?”

“Of course, be my guest,” Rio says; though you can tell he’s slightly disappointed. He loves clubbing things.

Baela approaches the yowling zombie—jaws snapping, claws swiping—and grimaces down at it, this one of millions of monsters that ended the world, that killed Jace and stole all the rest of her life from her too, all those normal things she was supposed to have, all those strings of fate that the plague cut through like a razor and sent floating aimlessly out into the void of the universe. Then with a scream, Baela swings her hammer and a catastrophic impact crater appears in the side of the zombie’s skull, and it crumples to the floor, its mindless brains spilling out onto the carpet.

“Nothing good?” Aegon asks when you reappear in the driveway, popping a Vicodin into his mouth.

“No,” Aemond replies grimly. “No gas, no bullets, no food, nothing to drink.”

“I knew it would be lean pickings once we got out here,” Cregan says, and Aemond looks like he could kill him.

“Well, fortunately, Luke might have some good news for us,” Aegon says with a grin.

Aemond perks up. “Really? What?”

“I saw a truck out there,” Luke says, using his binoculars to gesture to the grain bin. “It’s parked between the barn and the grain thing, I can just see the very front of it sticking out. And if there’s a truck, there might be gas.”

Aemond ruffles Luke’s fluffy dark hair. “Good job, kid.” And Luke lights up like how cities used to look at night, back when the power was on: Washington D.C., Key West, Corpus Christi, Chinhae. Rio stoops down so Aegon can hop on his back, and all of you trek together across the field.

“Nothing,” Cregan announces as he squeezes the little pump on the siphoning hose after opening the gas cap of the ancient Chevy Silverado and threading the hose inside. “Not a drop.”

“Fucking fantastic,” Aegon sighs from where he’s slumped on the ground. His eyes are glazed; he’s pretty stoned. He gazes pitifully up at you; you pat his shoulder sympathetically. You and Rio have already checked the barn, dilapidated but perfectly devoid of zombies. The roof has caved in; one of the two front doors are missing. “What now?!”

“We can go back to the interstate and walk until we find the next ranch,” you say, looking absentmindedly at the grain bin. It’s much larger up close, and rusty in spots. A ladder runs up one side to allow access to the roof. Ice isn’t whining or nudging anyone’s hands, but she’s sniffing the air as if she’s detected something interesting, unfamiliar.

“Yeah,” Luke replies miserably. “We can walk another five or ten miles and then maybe find a safe place to spend the night.”

Rhaena shades her eyes as she peers up at the sky. “It’s past noon already. Maybe we should just stay here.”

Rio barks out a sardonic laugh. “In a house with no supplies and that reeks of dead people?”

“Cregan, go kill us something to eat,” Aegon commands.

He chuckles in his deep, gruff voice. “It’s Miss Chips who is good at the killing, I’m just the authority on butchering at the moment.”

Aemond is watching Ice, his forehead furrowed. “What’s she doing?”

Cregan whistles. “Hey, princess, you okay?” Ice ignores him, still sniffing, her grey ears straight up in the air. Then it appears from behind the barn: a tiny brown creature, a baby bear.

“Aww, it’s so fuzzy!” Aegon squeals, stretching his arm out to pet it. Rio yanks him away; everyone else is backing up towards the grain bin. A second bear cub has now arrived, padding clumsily along, large cartoonish eyes and a little pink tongue poking out from its muzzle.

“Don’t touch them!” Aemond shouts to everyone. “Get away from them! If there are cubs, there’s probably—”

And around the barn comes the mother, a grizzly bear of 400 pounds. She bares her teeth and snarls, saliva dripping in long gluey strings. Ice is barking viciously; Aegon is shrieking and scrambling onto Rio’s back.

“Baela!” Aemond says because she’s closest to him, urging her towards the ladder of the grain bin. She gets the idea and begins climbing. Then Aemond reaches for you. “Come on, you next!”

“Rhaena, go,” you say instead, and she clambers up the ladder after Baela. Cregan is brandishing his axe; Rio has his Remington in his hands, Aegon still clinging to his back like a baby opossum to its mother. Now Helaena is climbing up the ladder, and Daeron nocks an arrow. You whip one of your M9s out of its holster, aim for the bear’s head, and pull the trigger.

Your bullet hits its skull, Daeron’s arrow pierces its chest; and the mother bear does not die but roars and rises up onto her back feet—taller than Rio, taller than Cregan—and then drops back down and charges towards you and the grain bin. Cregan blocks the way, swinging his axe. The bear reluctantly pauses, testing him with swipes of her claws that he evades. Rio is just a few steps behind Cregan, waving his Remington around hostilely. Aegon is screaming and holding on for dear life.

“Don’t shoot!” Cregan yells. “9mm isn’t big enough, you’ll just make her more angry!”

Aemond finally gets a grip on your wrist and drags you to the ladder. You obey and climb until your feet are several rungs off the ground, then you turn to see what’s going on below. Aemond, Luke, and Daeron are at the bottom of the ladder, their backs to you. Cregan is still wielding his axe.

“Fuck off, Mama Bear!” he bellows, standing as tall as possible and swinging his axe above his head. Rio follows Cregan’s lead and holds his Remington aloft. Ice is barking; the baby bears are fleeing in terror. Aegon is sobbing hysterically and saying he’s going to die. “You don’t want us and we don’t want you! Go on! Go get your babies! I’ll put this blade right between your eyes if you don’t change your stupid mind right quick!”

The bear pounds the earth with her front feet and growls, a beastly subterranean rumble, but she seems to be losing her nerve. The rungs of the ladder creak and groan; you see rust like blood-hued moss around the bolts.

“Get out of here!” Cregan shouts. “Go, you hairy old bitch! Go back to your babies!”

The bear glances back to see her cubs vanish behind the barn. Her mouth is open and panting, spittle gleaming on her pointed teeth; her black eyes are uncertain. As you hold onto the ladder with one hand, you have your M9 aimed at the bear’s left eye, just in case. Aemond is watching Cregan; on his scarred face a sharp severity, fascination and resentment and fear.

“Go on,” Cregan says firmly. “Leave us alone. You belong in the mountains, not down here. Go eat something that’s already dead, a nice easy dinner. You don’t want us. We’ll fight you.”

The grizzly bear shakes her head—flopping ears, shaggy fur filthy with dust and pieces of grass—and whirls, lumbering off to find her cubs. When she rounds the barn, Cregan waits a few long, tense, silent minutes and then turns to the grain bin.

“Alright y’all, we oughta hurry up and leave. I don’t think she’ll come back, but she might.”

From the top of the ladder, approximately forty feet off the ground, Baela begins to laugh. “Did that really just happen?! That was insane! Cregan, buddy, you can vote for whoever you want to. You and I are cool forever.”

He smiles up at her, wincing in the bright afternoon light. “I’m very glad to hear it, ma’am.”

Rio sets Aegon down on the ground and stretches his back; it must be hurting him. Aemond is taking your hand and helping you off the ladder, and you are reminded of the transmission tower where he found you in Catawissa, Pennsylvania, one of those middle-of-nowhere places like Tipton, Wyoming. As Helaena climbs down, you go to Rio and—with as much force as you can manage—knead the small of his back with the heel of your hand like you know helps him.

“You okay?”

He sighs loudly, relieved. “Yeah, I’ll be fine. Oh, wow, that’s good. Harder…oh yeah…”

There is a snapping sound, metal squealing as it breaks, and by the time you turn to look she’s already falling: her cotton dress billowing around her, her arms wheeling helplessly. It happens too quickly for her to scream—for her to understand what is going on and what it means—but there is a stunned gasp and then she hits the ground, and you hear a muffled crunch of bone—skull?? spine??—and she is completely, unnaturally still as she lies on her back, no pain, no words, nothing.

“Baela!” Rhaena shrieks, and she rushes down the ladder and runs to her sister. You are all gathering around Baela, petrified to move her—to make it worse—but pleading for her to wake up, examining her with terrified eyes. Baela’s own eyes, dark and glassy and serene, are open only a sliver like obsidian crescent moons. Aemond is asking Helaena for a flashlight and then prying them wide, checking Baela’s pupils.

“There’s no reflex,” he says numbly.

“What does that mean?!” Rhaena cries. “Aemond? Aemond?!”

“She’s…she’s…” He’s in denial; he’s in shock. He’s feeling for a pulse on her carotid, he’s digging his fingernails into her forearm to try to get her to respond to pain.

“Aemond?” you say softly.

“She’s gone,” he tells you, like he doesn’t believe it, like he’s waiting to wake up.

“The baby,” Rhaena says. “Try to save the baby.” And then, when Aemond doesn’t immediately understand, she grabs his backpack and begins ripping it off so he can get the medical kit inside. “The baby, Aemond!”

Now he knows what he has to do. He pulls the scalpel out of his kit as Rhaena moves Baela’s sundress to expose her belly. She was wearing biker shorts beneath, lavender, cute, something you might have picked out in a store. In less than a minute they will be soaked with blood. Cregan leads Daeron away, and he’s telling him that they need to keep watch in case the grizzly bear returns, but you think it is an act of mercy more than anything else. Ice goes with them. Helaena, her face pale and grave, is shining the flashlight on Baela’s belly, just beneath her navel.

“Aegon?” Aemond says.

“What? What do you need?”

“I need people to help hold open the incision once I make it. I have to be able to see the amniotic sac so I can cut the membrane without harming the baby.”

“I get it, I’m here, I’ll help.”

Aemond presses the blade of the scalpel to Baela’s skin and draws a semicircle from the top of one hip to the other. There is blood, but it is slow-moving and thick and dark; it is the blood of a dead woman, not a living one. Immediately, Aegon hooks his fingers under layers of fat, skin, and muscle, and opens the wound as much as he can. You and Rio reach in too, and you do this without thinking, without allowing yourself to feel the horror of it until the work is done.

“I can’t see,” Aemond is murmuring. Rhaena gets another flashlight and helps Helaena illuminate the area. Luke is on his knees with both hands clamped over his mouth, his eyes glistening with dread and disbelief. Aemond is slicing, pausing to probe around with his fingers, cutting again. Then his arm plunges into Baela’s abdomen up to his elbow and, with some difficulty, pulls out the gore-covered baby by its feet, a girl, large and limp and silent.

Rhaena sobs, equal parts grief and joy, a smile appearing on her face. “Is she okay? Aemond? Is she…why isn’t she crying? Aemond?!”

Rio yanks off his shirt and uses it to wipe blood and gelatinous clumps away from the baby’s eyes, mouth, and nostrils. Then Aemond takes the shirt and wraps the baby in it, warming her, rubbing her lifeless little limbs. When she does not stir, Aemond lays her on the earth and begins CPR: compressions with two fingers on her tiny heart, two breaths down the airway she’s never used. There are no sounds except his efforts. There is no crying when the baby wakes, because she never does.

Enough, you are thinking, as if from very far away: an island in the Indian Ocean, the Appalachian mountains in eastern Kentucky. Enough, enough, enough.

Aemond stops trying to revive the baby. He picks her up and holds her against him, and no one says anything. There is only the barrenness of the Wyoming steppe, an anemic blue sky, tall dry grass that bows in the breeze, black vultures that are landing atop the barn and the grain bin.

Aegon jolts out of his paralysis and reaches for his brother with bloodied hands. “Aemond, hey, Aemond, listen to me, it wasn’t your fault. Okay? Are you listening? Aemond, man, you did everything you could. You gave them a chance. You didn’t give up.”

But Aemond doesn’t respond; he only kneels there beside Baela’s butchered body, her dead baby girl in his arms.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Alys?” he calls, seeing that she never came back to bed. He is lying on his stomach, tangled in red sheets damp with sweat. It’s hot, too hot, and there is no humming of the air conditioning. When Aemond picks up his iPhone from the nightstand, it’s still plugged in but only at 87% battery. The power must have gone out.

He gets up, rubs the damp skin by his temple—headache, dehydration—and lifts open the nearest window. It’s odd: there is shouting, distant and indistinct, like the sound of a carnival or a concert. There are car alarms too, and sirens, and horns blaring, all too far away for him to see. It must be because of the power outage, traffic signals thrown into chaos, neighbors relaying the latest information back and forth. That’s the only logical explanation.

“Alys?” Aemond says again, groggy but with increasing curiosity, concern, guilt.

She started to feel sick last night, a pulsing in her skull and chills and powerful nausea. The possibility of it being the so-called Florida Fever barely registered in his mind. Alys gets migraines, and tofu is a migraine trigger, and he took her to a Thai restaurant (maybe he should have known better) and the curry Alys ordered ended up having tofu in it, and by the time she paid the check (as Alys always did) she was swallowing an Imitrex from the box in her snakeskin purse. She said she was going to lie down in the guest bedroom for a while so she wouldn’t wake him if she spent the next few hours dashing to and from the bathroom, a likely outcome, and if he was honest with himself about it, Aemond would admit he was relieved.

He shuffles to the bedroom door—black boxers, bare feet, century-old hardwood floors—and opens it. Now he can hear thudding, like someone tenderizing meat with a mallet. “Alys? Baby, you feeling okay?” There is no answer, only that rhythmic hammering. He realizes that it is coming from the guest bedroom, a door at the end of a long hallway still fuzzy through his half-awake eyes.

It had never felt right, but it had felt good: good in the body when she touched him, good in the soul when she told him he did something right. But lately—especially here, in the vast creaking historic house she shares with her husband and her children, who are presently sailing in Cape Cod—Aemond cannot shake the feeling that this entanglement is a surrender rather than an aspiration, something he fell into and now rests at the bottom of like a swimming pool or the sea, the cold weight of it threatening to pour into his lungs and drown him.

“Alys?” Aemond says, now with profound and inexplicable dread. Outside an ambulance or police car zooms by, sirens blaring. The pounding on the door of the guest bedroom grows faster.

I want to go home, Aemond thinks suddenly. At home, in the Federal-style townhouse his parents rented for him (Criston picked it out, a safe and quiet neighborhood in Beacon Hill, and Viserys paid), Daeron is visiting from California and watching golf tournaments with Aegon on the living room couch, pretending to be interested when Aegon describes the different types of clubs. Helaena, pursuing an Entomology PhD, is researching the Mediterranean mantis, clicking around on her MacBook Pro from the garden in the backyard. Jace and Luke live there too, and so Baela and Rhaena have all but officially moved in, keeping their apartment in Seaport only to have somewhere to retreat to when the Targaryen chaos becomes too much…and so the baby can have its own room. Baela bought a crib, a changing table, a rocking chair, a dresser, and about a million unisex onesies, mostly space-themed. Baela is studying Aeronautics and Astronautics, after all. Maybe one day she’ll work for NASA and fly rockets to the moon.

The door is rattling on its hinges. Aemond’s hand closes around the knob. On the other side is something terrible, and he knows this. But he cannot just leave her. Aemond is not someone who abandons people; he is not someone who turns away from responsibilities.

He opens the door of the guest bedroom, and immediately she is staggering towards him, limp dripping hair and naked like she was interrupted mid-shower: blood bubbling from her gaping mouth and the whites of teeth peeking through the crimson, necrotic skin hanging in strips from her fingers, eyes misty like steam on a mirror.

“Alys, stop! Alys! What’s wrong with you?!”

She’s alive but she’s dead. She’s yowling and clawing at him, but her flesh is the rotting swampland of a corpse. He’s pushing her away; his palms sink into her, places he once noticed and then fantasized about and then at last—euphorically, ashamedly—touched, held, borrowed but never kept. She’s trying to bite him. She’s trying to kill him. None of this is possible, and yet it’s true.

Aemond flings her away, and the woman who was once Alys stumbles backwards and down the staircase, sick wet thumps all the way to the ground floor, bones splitting through dissolving grey skin, organs sloshing around until they spill out. He can hear her still hissing, flailing, trying to get up again.

Without thinking—slipping seamlessly into what he learned during his psych rotation is called automatic action—Aemond races down the steps and grabs her by the skull, cracks it against the antique hardwood floor she once extoled the value of as he fucked her on it: shipped east from Oregon and laid in 1912, the year the Titanic sank. When she lurches up to try to bite him, he slams her head against the floor again and again until she is still.

Then Aemond kneels there alone for a long time, sirens shrieking outside, far-off strangers screaming for help, putrid black blood clotting on his hands.

[ellecdc]

Hi darling, maybe you have this request already, but I just found it funny that I literally woke up at 2am with thoughts of how did Poly!moonwater and reader got together and typed this on my phone half asleep

Marauders taking over every part of my life now, ngl. Your writing especially, I'm literally in here morning, noon, and night the past weeks just enjoying your fics 🥹

Love you, please take care always 💜

LOL Mimi you are so stinking cute, waking up in a panic because you NEED to know how poly!moonwater came to be 😭😭😭😭 I love you

I can't really think of a one shot of this because I think it would be a slow progression, so I'm going to make it headcanons!

the origins of poly!moonwater x reader headcanons

you're totally right, they would have absolutely met in the library - perhaps tutoring group? Remus was tutoring in DADA (obvs), Reg maybe potions and reader....you can choose?

And I always picture tutoring like, in the library with the textbooks, discussing the concepts (not actual physical practice which would require them to actually duel, cast, mix potions etc)

I do imagine reader x reggie being friends first, though Remus was always friendly with them

I picture Reggie and reader to be same age/year so they would have classes together and such

I think perhaps Remus would notice lingering glances between reggie and reader and would decide to befriend them in an attempt to play match maker for the notoriously stand-offish Black and the very quiet you

Regulus would have at first been VERY confused, startled, and generally concerned when his brother's friend started sitting at his table in the library

I think this would be because he was a) slightly worried something was wrong with Sirius, b) convinced this was a prank, and c) shy because he definitely found the werewolf attractive and really (hated that he) liked how calm and assured the older boy seemed to be

"To what do I owe this....pleasure...Lupin?" He asked cautiously

Remus would have been all smiles at that. "Oh, I assure you that the pleasure is all mine, baby Black."

Regulus hated that

"So...you and L/N, hm?"

Regulus turned a beautiful shade of pink in Remus' opinion

"I assure you I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Hm. So I guess your lingering glances and shy smiles mean nothing?"

"Nope."

"And hers? Do they mean nothing as well?"

That caught Regulus' attention.

"What do you want, Lupin?"

"Is it a crime for me to want my best friends little brother to be happy?"

Regulus scowled. "As you so eloquently pointed out, Lupin, I'm a Black. I don't deserve happiness."

Remus sighed sadly at that. "I disagree. Besides, there's worse things to be, Black. Trust me."

"What, like a Gryffindor?" Regulus muttered what he thought was quietly, but Remus let out a hearty laugh.

"Exactly"

So Remus decided to be a scheming little menace and mediate conversations between you two

"Hello baby Black!" Remus called out joyously one day, dragging you behind him by the crook of your elbow - you looked horrified. "Look who I found!"

Remus bodily sat you down at Regulus' library table and sat in a chair beside you near the exit, almost daring you to try to flee.

"Hello Lupin....hello, L/N." Regulus offered, knowing exactly what Remus was doing, but he couldn't pretend he wasn't at least a little pleased that you (and he) had joined him

You offered a small smile and a quiet hello in return

Remus looked between the two of you with the biggest smile on his face like he was watching two of his 1st year DADA students internalize a lesson they'd been working on for far too long

"How are your tutoring sessions going?" Remus asked, which seemed to spark some conversation and allowed the two of you to relax a little

you shared stories of some of the silly feuds of the first years, mistakes they made, crushes they had on each other - "oh that's good to know! I'm going to make them partner up next week" - and such

"Were we ever that small? they all seem so little" you commented.

"I don't think Lupin was ever that small." Regulus commented unintentionally which horrified him. He vowed to never say another thing to the two of you ever again. But that vow was broken the second he heard the sweet sound of your laugh at his comment, and Remus couldn't help but laugh too - watching you like this version of you was perhaps the most beautiful he'd ever seen you.

"I'll have you know I was average height in first year." Remus defended

"Yeah." you agreed disbelievingly, "average height for a fifth year - what do they feed you in Wales?"

Remus decided he actually really liked hanging out with you and Regulus, never mind his role of matchmaker.

hanging out with the two of you was like finding shelter in the middle of a thunderstorm - you dulled the sound of rain pouring down on him, offering him a safe, warm, dry place to recuperate from the chaos

Regulus was funny in a way that seemed to surprise even Regulus himself - so used to keeping his thoughts to himself. It was refreshing for Remus to see a personality come out so innocently and effortlessly - not performative in the slightest

you were very comfortable to let silence linger - never feeling the need to fill lulls in the conversation that didn't require it

and for being so quiet, Remus was very happy to discover how excited you got about things

"Reg! Remus!" You called (albeit quietly) one day as you came running into the library to show them a copy of some first year's essay on [insert subject you tutor]. "Look! Little Archie got an outstanding on his essay!"

Regulus and Remus were equally as enthusiastic as you (which would have looked very strange to anyone watching from the outside), both far more proud of you than either were of 'little Archie'.

But it was when Regulus noticed you blushing when Remus gave you a 'celebratory' hug that lasted far longer than strictly necessary that an idea of his own was formulated

"You know that Lupin has been trying to play matchmaker with us?" He asked as he approached you at the end of one of your shared classes.

You looked at him oddly.

"Disappointed?" He asked, mistaking your look for disappointment.

You were a little disappointed, albeit not for the reason's Regulus was suggesting

You had always had a little crush on Regulus throughout school, but you found that you really liked Remus too. And you liked spending time with Regulus and Remus - you looked forward to your little 'study/tutoring dates' as you'd taken to calling them. You were equally as excited when sharing a hello with Regulus in the halls as you were Remus, and...well...you kind of perhaps hoped they felt the same way. You were also certain Remus and Regulus felt that way about each other which didn't completely upset you.

"Really? I thought he just loved our company." you deadpanned instead, ignoring the subtle tightness in your chest.

Regulus' face morphed into a devious grin, however. "Oh...but I think he does. And I think you do too." he said, taking a chance and straightening your school tie, gently pulling you slightly closer to him. He swore he could feel the heat radiating from your cheeks as you swallowed thickly.

"What do you want, Black?"

Regulus smirked as he made eye contact with you. "You? Him? Both."

Your pupils dilated as your eyes flit between both of his, chancing a glance down to his lips as he licked them.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Remus was really looking forward to your study date today. He'd been trying to keep track of James all day who was on day four of no ADHD medication, talking Sirius off a cliff (aka, convincing him not to hex Mulciber at every given moment) and his only support through all of this was Peter (which was not very much support at all). He was very much looking forward to the calm oasis the two of you provided him

He was very embarrassed and ashamed when his heart plummeted to see the two of you walking in hand-in-hand, looking particularly infatuated

"What's this?" He said in faux excitement, only having to clear the lump in his throat once.

You smiled shyly while Regulus smiled victoriously.

"Your plan worked, Lupin. We've decided to give this a try." Regulus explained, holding your joined hands up and pressing a kiss to the back of your hand.

Remus chuckled but it sounded manic even to his own ears.

"Well! Wonderful!" he shouted about 4 octaves higher than usual. "I guess my work here is done." He admitted as he slowly and dishearteningly packed his things.

"Hey, not so fast." You chided softly, placing a gentle hand on his forearm. "What about you?"

"What about me?" He asked quietly, pretending your hand on him wasn't throwing him for a frenzy.

"We'll return the favour." Regulus explained. "Tell us who you like, and we'll make sure you get them."

Remus let out a humourless chuckle. "I don't think that's possible."

"No?" You asked innocently. Too innocently if you asked Remus.

"Come on. Tell us about them." Regulus said as he sat on the table to look down at Remus, body facing him in his chair. "Perhaps she has....beautiful eyes...." He said sultrily, looking pointedly at you. "Or lovely hair...." He added, twisting a lock between his fingers. "Or a smile capable of convincing you of just about anything."

Remus' heart was beating frantically. They were on to him. They saw right through him, surely, but not because they were missing half of it.

"Or..." You carried on. "Maybe he has black curls that fall disturbingly perfect....or grey eyes that make you feel so vulnerable yet build you up.....or has constellations of freckles lining him that you want nothing more than to memorize."

Remus let out a pained groan. He was caught.

"I'm sorry." He admitted into his hands.

"For what, Remus?" Regulus asked quietly, and Remus nearly sobbed. That was the first time he ever referred to him with his given name.

"I didn't mean to." He admitted. fall for both of you he admitted quietly in his mind

"Mean to what, Remus?" you asked, causing him to groan again.

"What do you guys want from me?"

"Just you." You admitted shyly.

He looked at the two of you dumbfounded. You had the grace to look slightly abashed at the request. But though Regulus sat with an air of casualness, Remus could see the slight dusting on his cheeks giving away his nerves.

"You're not serious?" He asked dumbly.

"No, thank goodness. I'd look terrible in red." Regulus joked, surprising a manic bark of laughter from him.

"Both of you want me?" He asked disbelievingly

"Do you want us?" You asked, still shyly but unbelievably brave in your vulnerability

"more than anything..." Remus admitted

Regulus' face morphed into a cocky grin as he stood from the table and walked around it. "Then it's settled." he said plainly as he sat at his place.

"And what exactly is settled?" Remus asked, looking between you as you sat in your place beside him and Regulus as he took out a book.

"You're both mine, and I'm both of yours, and you're each others. We're together, Remus. Do keep up."

Remus knew better than to look a gift horse in the mouth. He accepted this new reality and never looked back.

AN: (I wrote this during my lecture so I apologize for any errors)