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Brendon Urie ~ Let’s Kill Tonight
(Horror movies, he scares you)

Why did you say yes? Perhaps it was masochism but either way, you were regretting when Horror Lord Urie swaggered into the room with so many horror films in his arms he had to have spent half his fortune on them.

“So… My little fear lover… Classic or modern? Gore or jump scare? Psychological torture or pure sadism? The choice is yours but once the decision is made, your fate is sealed…” Brendon grinned around the cheap vampire fangs he’d shoved into his mouth as he ran down the stairs.

“Shut up Boyd and surprise me.” You retorted, secretly not wanting the responsibility of scaring yourself.

“It’s decided! Good old fashioned Exorcist it is! You’re gonna regret letting me chose coz you could have just picked Crimson Peak…” He grinned from ear to ear as he dropped the DVDs on an armchair and fished out his chosen film. You resisted the urge to scream just at the mention of the film and instead whined at the lack of Tom Hiddleston you’d be watching for the next couple of hours of your life.

Fast forward an hour later and you’ve skipped out on the film entirely, locking yourself in the bathroom and texting Brendon passive aggressive threats, ordering him to turn off the film. After a brief argument you received a short message simply stating “k, the films off, come out now you’ve ruined horror night for me.” You huffed, feeling guilty but less afraid, that was until the lights shut off in the bathroom. You squealed but composed yourself and assumed the light had blown and unlocked the door and stepped into the hallway. Complete darkness.

“Boyd?!” You shouted, “Boyd, I think your powers out?” No reply. “Ok… Bit creepy… Feel like giving me a torch? I’m sorry about ruining film night!” You added in the hopes of appeasing him.

Feeling your way down the hallway and reaching the stairs, you braced yourself for the inevitable jump scare before descending. “Brendon, please.” You begged, your voice breaking as your bare feet touch the cold wood of the floor. You wandered into where you assumed the living room was and swore as you banged your toe on the edge of the sofa.

Hands wrapped around your waist whilst you was recovering and practically swung you into the air before teeth nipped at your neck. You shrieked and struggled desperately until your feet hit the ground and you took off running, consequently falling head first over the sofa and landing in a painful ball on the other side, yelping as you tried to stand, your ankle throbbing with pain.

“Oh my god I’m so sorry!” Brendon gushed before he run out the room, you heard doors opening and the clicking of switches before the lights came on, blinding you momentarily. A red faced Brendon skidded back into the room before dropping beside you. “Is it broke?” He questioned looking a mix of scared and guilty.

“I… I don’t think so?” You replied, cradling your exceptionally swollen a ankle, eyes widening when Brendon picked you up as gently as he could and carried you into the kitchen. Setting you down on the counter top he went looking for frozen peas, determined to right what he’d done as best as possible. He let out a small “ah!” When he found frozen peas and returned to you, placing them on your ankle and getting you to hold it in place. His muddy coloured eyes had widened to puppy dog size as he looked into yours. Seeing you shudder, he disappeared again before returning with a fluffy blanket that he wrapped around your shoulders.

“Look… I’m so sorry, I just wanted to make you jump…” He muttered, pulling himself up onto the counter beside you, pulling the blanket over his shoulders and silencing you when you went to complain by lifting you onto his lap and hugging you as tightly as he could to keep you comfortable as he could. His body radiating warmth that you melted into.

“I know you didn’t mean it, you wouldn’t do that.” You muttered sleepily due to the adrenaline low, a small smile gracing your face when he planted a kiss on your forehead.

“Not to you. No.” He finished.

Angel baby.

Summary: You’re pregnant with Daryls baby but suffer a miscarriage.
Warnings: Swearing, angst, miscarriage.

A/N: The request asked for the reader to be pregnant and suffer the same thing as Maggie, but I’m not quite sure what’s exactly wrong with her so I did it as a miscarriage. I personally suffered a miscarriage at 10 weeks pregnant with my first baby so I used my own personal experience to write this. Please don’t read if these things can be triggering for you.

You lay in bed with Daryl, his head at your stomach and talking to it. You felt so happy, Daryl seemed so excited to be a dad. You didn’t know exactly how far along you were, somewhere around 10 weeks. Most morning’s when you woke up, Daryl was talking to the little bean inside your tummy, and it warmed your heart.
“Ya the size of an olive now lil jelly bean.” He chuckled, referencing one of the baby books he had read that tell you the size of the baby as a fruit. You smiled at the affectionate nickname he had been using for your baby since the moment you found out and played with his hair.

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