#the question is do i watch through this or just...read summaries and skip ahead

[veliseraptor]

love between fairy and devil reminding me that i absolutely cannot handle body swap episodes

[awrkive]

Wer is grumpy jk! We badly need it 😫😭

summary: you and jungkook are getting closer, moving forward – but to where, exactly? what does that entail for your relationship? 

w/c: 3.3k

note: this is for all the girlies who asked for part 2 for this drabble. nothing but fluff in here ): ive been thinking abt college jk lately and i lowkey like this grumpy!jk guy… basically this takes place two months after the first drabble u may read this amm for grumpy!jk for a brief bg on what their relationship has become before u go read this parr. anyway the ending is a bit diabolical and im saying sorry in advance

also pls listen to come here by kath bloom, its literally so them 😮‍💨😖

It’s almost natural the way Jungkook immediately slings his backpack on one shoulder, heads straight out of the lecture hall, and starts the almost ten-minute walk from his department building to yours the moment his last class for the day was dismissed. 

He waits outside by the hallway along the lecture room, scrolling through his phone mindlessly, knowing that any minute now you’ll be coming out of the door. 

And just as a slew of students’ chattering becomes louder, their heavy footsteps coming out from the hall, Jungkook instantly spots you; talking to a friend animatedly – Joy, maybe? – before you look to the other side and finally see him. 

“Jungkook!” You exclaim with excitement, smiling up at him and even doing a little wave. Jungkook watches as you turn to your friend. “Sorry, I gotta go. Zoom meeting at five, right?” He hears you say before she nods, bidding your goodbyes to each other before she goes in the opposite direction while you saunter towards him with that usual dashing grin on your face. 

Jungkook meets you halfway, lips curling up slightly at your enthusiastic greeting. Even more so when you don’t fight off the way he goes for your tote bag, taking it off your shoulder and wearing it on his own, the weight not adding that much to his own bag perched on his back. 

He remembers the first time he tried to do it (awkwardly, might he add), and you vehemently refused. But Jungkook can be persistent sometimes when he wants to, and eventually you gave up trying to resist.

Currently, as you walk along the hallway out of your building, standing close together, Jungkook tries not to think too much about how easy this feels. Like it’s normal the way you immediately interlock your arm around his own, skipping a little bit upon your walk as you begin speaking.

“You really did cut your hair.” You marvel at him when he looks down at you. And he can’t help it; the blood rushing to his cheeks and certainly on his ears. 

“I sent you a picture.” He simply says. It was yesterday. He originally went to his barber for just a trim but he remembers you saying something about a particular actor’s haircut… and look, it’s not like he was trying to look like that man but it may have influenced the decision a little bit… 

Anyway, he thinks it looks okay on him. He trusts his barber and Hoseok said it suits him. From your response, you also said it looks nice. 

And you tell him so. “I like it! You look so good. Especially with this frame!” You point to his eyeglasses, smiling up at him. “I was thinking you were just sending me a random picture last night.” 

Jungkook chuckles. “I wasn't, and uh, thank you.”

“You're welcome. Anyway,” you say, “Did you wait for long earlier? Sorry ‘bout that. Prof. Shin had to extend a little bit ��cause there were a lot of questions about our new project.” 

“You have a new project?”

“Yeah, but nothing really heavy. Just a hotel lobby interior design. We got a week and it’s a paired task thing, that’s why you saw me with Joy earlier—”

He sees a flock of students ahead huddling by your side of the pathwalk, and because you have a tendency to not really pay that much attention to your surroundings, he takes you by the waist slightly to avoid bumping with them, causing you to stumble closer to him. 

You crane your neck to look behind you for a moment, gaze falling back up to Jungkook with widened eyes. “Sorry.” you say with a jutted lip and a little frown. 

“It’s okay.” Jungkook says with a reassuring smile. He means it. He likes being close like this and if you don’t watch your surroundings, he’ll just do it for you. He doesn’t mind. 

You grin. “Anyway… I was saying, it’s a hotel interior. But! The thing is, it’s a themed hotel, which I’m really excited about ‘cause I’m tired of designing contemporary, luxury ones. They always tend to be so redundant.” 

Jungkook nods. “I think so too. What’s the themed hotel about?” 

“Have you heard of a film called Metropolis?” He shakes his head. You nod at that. “Well, yeah, me neither. At least a week ago. Prof gave it to us as an assignment and it’s a silent film from the ‘20s. A sci-fi tale, so very futuristic – at least for that time. So that’s the theme of the hotel, right, and Joy and I immediately thought of art deco.” 

Jungkook intently listens as you go on about your initial ideas, and he doesn’t even have to worry about the terms he doesn’t understand because you always take time to explain it to him in layman’s. It’s funny, really, because ever since he’s learned that you study interior design and started to talk to him about it, he found himself taking interest in it as well. Two months ago, he couldn't have given a single care about a couple named Charles and Ray Eames and their weird chair called La Chaise, but here he is, anyway.

Maybe it’s because of the way you so passionately talk about it. Your zeal oozes out so much when it comes up as the topic of conversation, and there’s always been something about you that pulls people right in. And Jungkook’s at peace with himself now that he’s just one of those people. 

He’s willing to be pulled right in, anyway. You don’t exactly make it hard to. 

And Jungkook finds that the newfound dynamic between you two isn’t… so bad. He finds excitement at the prospect of seeing you after his classes are concluded, going to Fro-yo for a quick snack because you’re obsessed with it, and studying together at his place later in the day.

A lot of people would say he’s making up for all the times he’s ignored you. The times when he pretended to not care about you. The times when he was just unprovokedly mean and treated you the way he regrets now. And sure, it may have started that way. Ever since your Environmental Science project was finished and the term was over, Jungkook started to feel like he couldn’t go back to the life where you weren’t within his perimeter. Couldn’t imagine you both being back to – practically – regular strangers, so he just… opened up to you more.

He shares his own stories now. Tells you about his day after you do so, and invites you to Fro-yo and other cafes and restaurants around campus whenever your schedules align. 

And maybe at first it was, indeed, because he was trying to make up for his past behavior – but that may have only been what he convinced himself of for the first few weeks. When the week stretched into months and the months suddenly involved you doing sleepovers at his place whenever his roommate, Hoseok, is not around, Jungkook is starting to question himself if this is all still about simply making it up to you. 

Because frankly, he’s starting to feel like it's a little more than that.

He’s not just buying you frozen yogurt and helping you with any assignment (that requires his silly and minuscule math and science expertise) and letting you borrow and keep his hoodies and shirts whenever you sleep over because he’s trying to make up for the past – he’s doing all of these because he genuinely enjoys your company and would like to do more for you… with you… to you… and just… just more. 

He wants more with you. 

And every single day is a daunting battle for his internal mullings. 

Because he knows he’s been stupid all this time not to realize right away that he’s got romantic feelings for you. That his confusion when it comes to you didn't come from the reason that you were extremely extroverted and had way too much energy – it was that those things made him like you and his little heart and brain couldn’t comprehend any of it the way he can easily wrap his head around math equations and concepts.

But he keeps himself on the sidelines. Thinks about keeping himself there until he’s sure of what you truly think about. 

You’re always nice to him. But you’re kind of nice to everybody… so that gets him a little twisted.

On Monday, when you were supposed to hang out – when you usually sleep over at his place, you bailed on him to study with Jae, as per Taehyung's words, your mutual friend.

He just can’t tell if the way you treat him is different to the way you treat everyone else, and that’s what’s been on his mind lately. 

“Oh, Kookie,” you say as soon as Jungkook takes out his keys, going for his keyfob when you arrive at the parking area. He looks at you in question, completely ignoring the way his heart flutters a little at the nickname. He kind of hates it, thinks it's too childish when other people call him that – but with you it sounds so much like an endearment, so he doesn't protest. You press your lips into a thin line before you say, “I can’t go to Fro-yo today. Joy and I agreed to have a zoom meeting later to start conceptualizing.” 

“Oh,” Jungkook blinks. “Rain check?” 

You pout. “Yeah.” 

“You can do it at my place? Hoseok’s doing an all-nighter with his study group, so he won’t be there ‘til the morning.”

“But I didn’t bring my laptop today.”

With furrowed brows, Jungkook steps closer to you. “It’s alright. We can drive to your place, get your laptop then go to mine,” he smiles. “Sleepover?” 

Jungkook doesn’t want to toot his own horn but he may have seen your face light up at that. But it comes off easily and he begins to worry.

“I want to, but I don’t want to impose.” You say. 

Instantly, Jungkook’s forehead creases. “You won’t be imposing.” When he sees that you’re about to decline again, he lets out a, “Please?” 

At that, you stop. You stare at him for a moment. 

“Uh…” you trail off. “You sure? Are you not busy tonight?”

He shakes his head. “I’ll probably start on an assignment so we can be both busy–” you nudge his arm at that, laughing. “– but other than that, no. I’ll cook us something. Or do you want to get take-out instead?” 

“I’d really, really appreciate your black bean noodles tonight.” You muse, looking at him like he holds the stars in the sky. With you gazing up at him like that, how can he say no?

“I think we have the ingredients in the fridge. Black bean noodles it is, then.” Jungkook says before you’re muffling your own squeal in your excitement, saying your little delighted “thank you” when Jungkook ushers you in the passenger seat after opening it for you. 

He rounds the car before he settles on his side, and when he starts the engine, he can’t help but smile slightly at the way you lean comfortably on your seat, as if you’re so used to being in his car – which you are.

And Jungkook finds he likes that. He likes you that way; being used to being around him. 

“You’re done?” Jungkook looks up from his computer, seeing you doing some arm stretches and leaning into his gaming chair to do it on your neck as well. 

“Yep.” 

“Then come here already.” He shuts his laptop close, places it on the bedside table, and pats the space on the mattress next to him. 

It’s nearly 10pm and your zoom meeting with Joy went for nearly 4 hours. You got on it immediately after you two ate your dinner, and like clockwork, asked to borrow one of Jungkook’s shirts because your top was getting a little too uncomfortable on your body. You’ve both already showered – separately, of course – and that’s one of the many things that Jungkook smiles about when he enters his bathroom sometimes. Because the fact that you shower in his bathroom means your essentials are slowly making a space for themselves in his own place; the yellow cup holder of your toothbrush sits next to his blue one, and a bottle of your moisturizer is also in his lavatory cabinet. 

“‘M so tired” You let yourself fall on the mattress, bouncing a little on it face down, sprawling across the bed like some starfish, your other hand landing on Jungkook’s abdomen. 

“Meeting went well?” Jungkook asks, and he’s a little disappointed when you remove an arm on him, but that’s okay, because soon you’re leaning sidewards to properly look at him and it makes him smile to see you so cozy like this. Barefaced and in his shirt. 

“Yeah, we got some work done,” You say. Jungkook watches as you try to get comfortable on your side of the bed. “I think I’m sleepy now.” 

“Yeah?” He follows after you, and he doesn’t hide his huge smile when you go and turn your back to him immediately after he slides his arm under your neck, spooning you from behind. Snuggling closer to him, Jungkook wraps his other arm around your waist and lets out a contented sigh against the back of your head. “My first class is at one thirty pm tomorrow.” 

“I have one at eight am. Then the next one is at ten.” 

“Tough.” 

“I know… I wish I didn’t enlist in morning classes.” 

He chuckles, closing his eyes as he starts to feel that familiar lull of sleep dancing behind his eyes. But truth be told, he doesn’t want to give into that just yet.

“You were with Jae on Monday?” He asks, carefully treading through the subject. It’s Thursday now. It's not like Jungkook’s a jealous guy… it just kind of threw him off a little, because you didn’t tell him you were with Jae. 

“Uh… yeah?” Jungkook feels you freezing in his arms. “How’d you know?” 

“Taehyung told me.” 

“Oh.” He can practically hear the wince. “He has such a big mouth.” You say drily. 

That earns you a laugh from Jungkook. But he decides to take down the jokes for a more honest and open conversation with you tonight. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” It’s not accusatory. It’s soft and gentle, the way he asks it, with his thumb rubbing the exposed skin of your hip due to the hem of your – his – shirt riding up. 

Your answer takes awhile. 

“I was… getting help with estimates.” 

“... Okay,” Jungkook tightens his hold around you, growing confused. “But I’m really good with estimates. I could’ve helped you.” It was easy math for him. And you never shied away from asking him for help before… why now?

“Well, he offered.” 

Jungkook’s brows crease deeper. “That’s not…" he trails off, then continues, "You know you can ask me for anything, right? Jae’s not even on the dean's list. How’d you know he’s teaching you the right stuff?”  

Silence hangs in the air before Jungkook hears your laughter. Shuffling in his arms, Jungkook loosens his hold around you to let you turn to him. When he sees your face, there's a huge grin on it.

“He’s not even on the dean’s list?” You sound intrigued.

Jungkook assumed you were curiously speaking, and so he nods, looking into your eyes seriously. “He isn’t. Look, I’m not saying–” when he notices your smile only getting wider by the second, he realizes you’re just trying to fuck with him, so Jungkook cuts himself off, letting out a sigh. “I’m sorry. I sound like an asshole.”

You scoot closer until both the front of your bodies are stuck. Jungkook tries not to think too much whether you’re wearing a bra underneath his shirt or not. 

You shake your head. “Not really. I believe you’re way smarter than him.” 

“Then why come to him and not me?” 

You stare at him for a moment, then you let out a heavy breath. “I just feel like you’re doing so many things for me nowadays. You were also really busy on Monday– don’t deny it–” you say before he opens his mouth to oppose that. He shuts his lips close, listening to you go on instead. “– and I was just being considerate. Jae offered because we saw and sat next to each other at the library, and I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to disturb you.” 

Jungkook blinks, processing your words. After a pregnant pause, he slowly nods, still dumbstruck. 

“Ah… okay. I understand.” he says, embarrassment slowly filling his system. 

You smile at him. Playfully. “Sorry for asking help from someone who’s not on the dean’s list.” Jungkook drops his expression into a poker face at that, which makes you laugh even more. You nibble on your bottom lip before you stretch your hand to his cheek and pinch it. He doesn’t bother dodging your hand. With a giggle, you say, “Sorry, sorry. That was just so funny. You’re so funny without even trying sometimes, you know?” 

“Not really.” Jungkook says and you can tell the tell-tale signs of his grumpiness starting to kick in.

What he doesn’t expect is the way you suddenly squeal and launch yourself on top of him, causing him to lie fully on his back with you sprawled all over his body, hugging him tight and burying your face in his chest. 

“You’re so cuddly and warm. Can we stay like this for awhile?” You break away from his chest and look at him from a low angle. 

Jungkook meets your gaze. 

Sure, you’ve been cuddling (platonically) all these past few months – but they never went to this length. And he’s not sure what the difference is, anyway – just that you’re much closer like this and Jungkook can feel everything. Still, that doesn’t deter him from wrapping his arms around your waist, slightly locking you in the position. Quite frankly, he doesn’t even want you to move. 

“Alright.” Is his simple answer. Not like he needed to think about it.

“I’ll sleep now, okay?” But you don’t wait for his response before you lay on his chest again with your cheek pressed on his hoodie.

Because the moment just feels right somehow, Jungkook lets his hand wander on your head. Then slowly, he lets his fingers comb through the strands of your hair, tentatively at first, lest you didn’t want him touching you or something like that – but once he hears a sound akin to a purr coming from you, he continues and finds himself getting comforted by the action as well. 

“The Jae thing really bothered you?” You ask suddenly, not breaking away from the position you’ve assumed on top of his body. But your words are slightly slurred in the haze of sleep.

Jungkook hums. “Yes.” 

“Sorry for not telling you myself.” 

“It’s okay,” Jungkook reassures you. His gaze falls to the ceiling, hand still caressing your hair. The surface is empty, and there’s not really much going on. Meanwhile, in your own bedroom, you have those glow in the dark star stickers pasted on your white ceiling. He’s never slept over there, but he thinks it would be nice to lay under your makeshift galaxy with your homely scent surrounding the two of you. “Are you not gonna ask why I was bothered?” He says after a beat. 

“I was gonna. But I think I know.” You answer, and Jungkook doesn’t expect that one bit.

He stops his ministrations on your hair, and it’s obvious that you’re about to question it when you suddenly peel your face away from his chest again. 

When you do, Jungkook meets your gaze and with a leveled tone, he asks the question he’s been mulling about for the past two months.

“__, what are we?” 

[harrywavycurly]

Worth the Fight: Disagreement

Masterlist: Here

CW: Pregnancy stuff, minor jealous Harry (him and Patrick have an issue lol), smut (fingering, thigh fucking and dirty talk).

Word Count: 5.8K

A/N: We are getting closer to the twins arriving and I’m so excited, there’s only 2 parts left after this! Also if you don’t want to read the smut just skip the last section, you won’t be missing any details just the spice!✨

Tag List: @kookjipao @msolbesg @lomlolivia @namoreno @outofthisworl-d @mema10 @watarmelon212 @natykn @sassamanda77 @st-ev-ie @ghayda0 @hannah9921 @indierockgirrl @chaoticthoughts2022 @lizsogolden @gmikaelson @styleswithaseaview @sofaritsalrightt @babegoals @fangirl509east @one-sweet-gubler @stylesftcher @umadirectioner @last-saturday-night @montgomery-929496 @laughterismytherapy @hisparentsgallerryy @jerseygirlinca @behindmygreyeyes @mads3502 @tpwkdpr @unfuckwitablenarry @itscoucouharry @latedirectionerera @ell0ra-br3kk3r @cumuluscranium @donutsandpalmtrees @silastylesswift @prettygurl-2009 @blueleonor @daphnesutton @angeldavis777 @harryssunflower17 @blckburd @tinawritesstuff @inlikea-coolway @mothersversiononly

Summary: Harry asks you a question, feelings are discussed and the two of you spend a day in bed✨

There’s a silence in your apartment that has you feeling on edge as you sit at your kitchen table rubbing your lips together as your mind begins to shuffle through all the check lists you have full of things you need to finish preparing and buy before the twins arrive. You flick your eyes over towards your kitchen where Harry is standing with a hand on your counter and the other holding a green apple that’s placed on the same cutting board he’s been using ever since he started making your juices months ago. You can tell by the way his eyes are looking straight ahead and not at the fruit in his hand that he is lost in his thoughts, probably thoughts very similar to the ones racing through your own mind so you just allow the silence to linger for a few minutes longer before you decide to break it.

“What’s the first thing on your list?” You ask as your hands rest on top of your very big pregnancy belly that has you not able to do much of anything without assistance these days. Harry blinks a few times before shaking his head as if to clear his mind before turning his head to look over at you.

“Sorry did-what did you ask me?” You let out a chuckle at his confused expression as his grip on the apple tightens ever so slightly.

“Your list of things you feel like you need to get done before the twins get here.” You look down at your belly and give it a gentle rub with both hands before looking back at him. “What’s the number one thing you-”

“Figure out where you’ll be staying once they’re here.”

“What do you mean? I’ll be staying here. In my house.”

“Okay.” You watch him as he carefully decides how he wants to articulate his next question as he lets go of the apple and turns around so he can lean his back against the counter. “And uh am I allowed to-uhm possibly also stay here with you?” He doesn’t look at you as he fumbles his way through asking the question, instead his eyes are glued to a spot on the tile floor near your refrigerator.

“Gee let me think about this.” You tilt your head to the side and tap your chin with your pointer finger as Harry lifts his head to look at you with a quirked brow at your playful tone because he is on the verge of a panic induced sweat while you seem very calm. “Can my boyfriend who also happens to be my baby daddy who doesn’t really let me get more then five feet away from him without him shouting my name to see where I’m at stay with me after our twins are born?” You question as you act as if you’re mulling the idea over in your mind but the slight upturn of your lips tells Harry you’re trying to hold off a smile and that can only mean one thing. “Yes Harry. Of course you can stay here because I’m sure as hell not going to your house right away with all those-”

“Stairs. I know love.” He says with a smile as he walks over to where you’re sat at the table. “I’d like to point out I let you get at least ten feet away from me before I’m shouting for you.” You roll your eyes as he holds his hands out for you to take so he can help you out of the chair.

“I was right behind you the other day and you shouted-”

“Baby I couldn’t see you I don’t have eyes in the back of my head.”

“You still shouted-in a library of all places.”

“It wasn’t even a real shout it was just a loud whisper.” You glare at him while his hands rub the sides of your belly as the two of you stand in the middle of your kitchen. “That lady didn’t need to be so mean about it.” The moment the words leave his mouth he knows he has royally messed up, so he just braces himself for you to let him have it as his hands continue to rub at your belly, lightly scratching it through the fabric of your t shirt since he knows you’ve been a bit itchy lately.

“That lady? You mean the librarian who was just trying to do her job of keeping it nice and peaceful in a place people come to read and learn?” You let out a huff as you swat his hands away from your bump making him frown at bit at the loss of contact. “You’re dating one of those ladies Harry and you’re lucky she just gave you a harsh shush and didn’t kick you out.” Harry knows you wish so badly that you could just storm off and leave him standing in the kitchen to think about what he just said but you can’t, you haven’t had your juice yet and you can’t exactly get around very easy and have been relying on Harry’s annoyingly toned arms for support so you’re stuck in the small space with him, annoyed and dangerously on the verge of becoming hangry.

“I’m sorry love it won’t happen again.”

“I would’ve kicked you out.” You mumble in a half annoyed and half serious tone, not ready to acknowledge his apology you keep your eyes focused on your bump making Harry bite down on his bottom lip in order to fight off the smile that wants to form on his face at your stubbornness. “And ban you from ever being able to step foot in any public library in the country.” You add making a scoff slip out of Harry’s mouth as he tries to sneak his hands back to the sides of your bump without you noticing.

“Now sweetheart that’s a bit much don’t you think?” You just shrug as you try to shove his hands away but this time he doesn’t let you, keeping them firmly on the sides of your belly making you huff in annoyance. “That would mean I’d never be able to bring you lunch at work or take the twins to story time or-”

“They wouldn’t be banned.” You correct him, finally looking him in his eyes that are a soft shade of green that has you wanting to let out a soft sigh but you don’t because there’s a point to be made here and you refuse to be distracted by his big dumb eyes. “Just you.” Harry lets out a chuckle as he shakes his head in disbelief.

“Well good thing you weren’t the librarian on duty then.” You roll your eyes as he leans in, and when you go to turn your head so his lips land on your cheek he pauses. “Come on Cranky gimme a kiss so I can get back to making your juice before you get really upset.” You let out a sigh as you turn your head allowing him to press his lips against yours for a quick and sweet kiss.

“I really would’ve kicked you out.” You mumble with a small pout as he pulls away with a smile on his face.

“I know.” He states as he leans in to press his lips to your forehead. “I love you.” You freeze as the words slip past his lips making him immediately pull away and take a step back from you with wide eyes and red cheeks, embarrassed he just accidentally let those words tumble out of his mouth so easily.

“You-”

“I uhm I meant I love them like-the twins yeah yeah I uh love them.”

“That’s not what you meant and that’s so not okay to say in the middle of an argument Harry that’s-that’s cheating.”

“What? How is that cheating? This wasn’t even an argument?”

“If it wasn’t an argument then why were you apologizing?”

“Because that’s-uh well that’s a good question.” You stare at him as he runs a hand through his hair as you try to come to terms with the fact he just casually admitted he loves you while in the middle of your kitchen. “So maybe this was just a disagreement over how I handled a situation in the library and also for me rudely referring to the librarian as just some lady so-so that’s why I was apologizing.”

“But do you know you were wrong?”

“I know you feel like I was wrong. Yes.”

“Harry.”

“Okay fine. Yes I know I was wrong and that’s why I was apologizing. I shouldn’t have shouted in the library and I should have more respect for librarians because I just so happen to be in love with one.” You feel your eyes well up as a lump forms in your throat as Harry stares back at you with a hopeful expression on his face.

“Does your therapist know you’re a cheater as well as a narcissist?” Harry lets out a chuckle and shrugs a shoulder as he reaches his hand out to grab yours that’s resting on top of your bump.

“I’m sure he’s well aware of all my flaws but I’ll ask when I talk to him next week.”

“Good.” You feel his hand cup the side of your face just as the first few tears fall from your eyes. “You really love me?”

“Yes.”

“You’re not just saying that because you’re panicking over the fact we have five weeks until the twins are here and-and we haven’t even packed a hospital bag or-”

“Hey sweetheart look at me okay?” You swallow thickly as your eyes meet his. “I love you and I’m not telling you this because I’m in pre twin arrival induced panic.” He gives you a smile as you sniffle and try to blink back a new wave of tears. “I’m telling you this because it’s how I feel or- how I’ve felt ever since you let me take you on that horrible first date a month ago and you know I’ve always been bad with timing and-”

“I love you too Harry.” Your voice is watery and the tiniest bit squeaky as it cuts off his rambling but Harry doesn’t mind, all he can focus on is the fact you’re saying it back.

“Yeah? You’re not just saying that so I’ll go and make your juice?” He teases as a grin spreads across his face making his dimples pop out.

“No I’m saying it because it’s how I feel. Besides I can make my own juice.”

“You can?”

“Yes I’ve done it before.”

“What? When?” His eyebrow raise as he looks over at the relatively large knife resting on the cutting board next to the apple he left on it. “I don’t like the idea of you using knives when I’m not around. I know that sounds-”

“Harry.” He turns to look back over at you as you reach over and cup his face with both of your hands. “Don’t ruin the moment.” He smiles as you pull him down for a kiss as his hands fall to your hips.

“Won’t happen again love.”

“Oh I’m sure it will.” You joke as you give his cheeks a small squeeze before dropping your hands from his face. “Also that was quite a declaration of love you just made- have you been reading my romance novels?” You ask making him roll his eyes as he turns to head back into your kitchen.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You laugh as you watch him grab the knife and begin cutting up the apple.

“Whatever you say.” You stand there for a moment, looking over your shoulder to the chair you were just sat in and then through the doorway of your kitchen towards your couch.

“Harry can-” before you can finish your sentence Harry is by your side with his arm out for you to grab onto so you can begin walking towards the living room.

“Comfy?” He asks after helping you get situated on the couch. You just nod making him smile as Paris walks into the room causing his bell the jingle having woken up from his mid morning nap he no doubt took in his new favorite spot, the middle of the rug in the twin’s nursery.

“Paris your stepdad told me he loves me in the middle of an argument.” Harry playfully rolls his eyes as he leans over and presses his lips to the top of your head before turning to go back into the kitchen.

“Wasn’t an argument Paris it was a disagreement.” He corrects, Paris pauses to watch Harry disappear into the kitchen before he turns to walk over to where your feet are propped up on the coffee table with a pillow underneath them.

“Want to snuggle with your mom?” You asks the orange colored cat who just purrs as he leaps onto the couch and instantly plops down next to you so his back is firmly pressed against your hip. “Oh Paris things are about to get a little crazy around here.” You tell him with a sigh as the sound of Harry chopping fruit and the gentle purrs of your cat start to gently lull you to sleep.

This is something Harry has gotten quite used to, you just randomly dozing off for a quick Power Nap while he’s off doing something in another room. So he just smiles and places a kiss to your forehead when he walks back into the living room a few minutes later with your juice in one hand and a bowl of grapes in the other, not wanting to disturb your morning nap so he just puts your goodies on the table next to the armrest of the couch and picks up Paris so he can place him in his lap after sitting down next to you.

“Your mom loves me too mate so that means no more biting.” He whispers to the orange ball of fur currently curled up in his lap. “Or at least start biting my other ankle.”

“Love?” You turn your head at the sound of Harry entering your bedroom, when you get a good look at the sweatshirt he has on you bring a hand up to cover your mouth to hide your laughter. “What’re you giggling at over there?” He asks as he walks over to what has now become his side of the bed, the one closest to the door claiming it’s so he can rush off and go grab whatever you need in the middle of the night but you know it’s one of his safety things.

“Nothing I just really like your shirt that’s all.”

“Do you really? I picked it myself.”

“Oh that much is very obvious.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He questions with a quirked brow as he looks down at the front of his sweatshirt. “It says daddy.” You just nod as you try to get comfortable, Harry looks over at you as you roll over so you’re facing his side of the bed.

“I’m aware of what it says Harry I do know how to read thank you very much.” You say with a huff as you fluff your pregnancy pillow a bit before resting your head on it.

“I don’t get why it had you in a giggle fit? It says daddy and I’m going to be a daddy.” You let out another round of giggles as he gets on the bed after kicking off his shoes.

“I’m just curious have you been wearing that all day?” You wonder as he scoots over so his arm is resting on the side of your pregnancy pillow.

“Yes because you keep it bloody freezing in the house thanks to your-”

“You’re the reason I’m dealing with hot flashes so don’t be sassy about how cold it is in here.”

“Right. Of course.” He gives you an apologetic look as you reach over and flick him in the shoulder. “But yes I wore it to run a few errands and went to see Niall at the studio.” He answers making you just rub your lips together as his hand finds your wrist and begins tracing little circles on it with his thumb while he holds his phone in his other hand and is scrolling through his emails.

“You ran errands and went to the studio in a sweatshirt that says daddy on it?”

“Yes now can you tell me why that’s an issue?”

“It’s not an issue but does Mr. Popular really not understand how funny it is that he was seen walking around in a shirt that just says the word daddy on it in big block letters? I mean come on you-”

“Oh.” You watch Harry place his phone down on his chest as the realization hits him. “Well I mean-I can’t help what people call me and-and the sweatshirt is soft and I’m not ashamed to wear it.” You just give him a smile when he looks over at you.

“It’s cute.” You tell him making him smile as he leans over to place a kiss to your forehead.

“You’re cute.”

“Thank you-oh guess what I finally got today.” Harry’s thumb pauses its tracing on your wrist as he takes a quick look around the bedroom for any signs of what you could’ve gotten while he was out running errands.

“Uh did you pick their coming home outfits?”

“Without the opinion of their ultra fashionable daddy? I’d never.” The glare he sends you makes you laugh. “But it does have to do with the twins.” You tell him as he gives the room another subtle scan and his eyes go wide when he sees it, sitting in the chair in the corner of the room is a black backpack with the name “Styles” embroidered in white on it in a pretty cursive font.

“Holy shit.” He says out of shock making you reach down with your free hand and place it over your bump as you playfully glare at Harry.

“Harry Styles watch your language in front of the children.”

“Sorry but you finally picked a diaper bag? You’ve been looking for one for months.”

“I just wanted to make sure it was going to something that I could use for years and wasn’t too bulky.”

“You mean like that monstrosity you call a purse?” He questions as he leans over to place his phone on his nightstand.

“You’re the only one who hates my-”

“Nope not even close to being true my love because tons of people hate your purse I’m just the only one willing to be honest with you about it.”

“Whatever.” You huff making Harry lean over to he can place little kisses to your cheek until you let out a giggle. “You’re lucky I like you because I got you one too.” He smiles against your cheek as you tilt your head so his lips are now hovering above yours.

“Oh come on sweetheart we both know you love me.” He murmurs against your lips before capturing them in a sweet kiss.

“Sorry it doesn’t say daddy though.” You say with a smile when he pulls away making him let out a groan as he rests his forehead against yours.

“M’never gonna hear the end of this am I?”

“Nope.”

Harry sits up and crosses his arms over his chest as he turns and glares at your side of the bed, not at you but at the plush object you’re currently cuddling with as you lay on your side with a book in your hand. Your pregnancy pillow has somehow worked its way onto Harry’s list of things he can’t stand, now he’s happy you’re comfortable he wants you to be as comfortable as possible but he hates how the soft plush pillow gets in the way when he tries to snuggle with you. He can’t even fully get his hand on your bump when laying on his side at night before going to sleep, the pillow wedged between the two of you. Now he knows he’s being a tad bit silly and dramatic but in this moment when all he wants to do is cuddle up with you while you read your new book, he doesn’t really care how dramatic he seems.

“I can feel you staring at me.” Harry lets out a sigh as you turn the page of your book, not bothering to look over at him.

“Do you really need this right now?” He asks as he pokes the side of your pillow making your eyes glance down to the spot his finger just jabbed.

“Yes I need him.” You answer as you go back to reading while Harry just stares at you with a raised brow.

“Him? Your pillow is a him? Tell me you didn’t name him.”

“I did. His name is Patrick.”

“Patrick? Why-why would you name it?”

“Because it felt weird to cuddle with something and it not have a name so I named him Patrick the pillow but you can just call him Patrick.” You explain once again without looking up from your book, you just snuggle deeper into the pillow making Harry let out a huff.

“Well isn’t Patrick for sleeping? You’re not sleeping.”

“Keep talking and that’ll change in a few minutes.” You tease dryly causing Harry to send you a glare that you don’t even notice due to how intently you’re focusing on the book in your hand that you checked out from the library a few days ago and sent Harry to go pick up for you.

“Baby.” He doesn’t mean to sound so whiny as he leans his head back so it’s resting against the headboard of the bed. “I just want to cuddle and he gets in the way and you don’t even seem to care.”

“You’re the one who bought him for me.”

“Well yes but-”

“But now you want me to kick him out? That’s rude.”

“He was bought before we started sleeping together-as uhm as in we sleep in the same bed together not that we sleep together even though we-we have done that as well but the point is Patrick has got to fucking go.” About halfway through his little rant you lift your head and close your book sliding it to the middle of the bed, you look at him with a small smile on your face as he fumbles his way through explaining his frustrations with your pregnancy pillow.

“You really don’t like Patrick?” Harry looks over at you as you begin to try and sit up.

“I don’t like how he gets in the way when I’m trying to cuddle you and now you’ve gone and named him so it’s-it’s weird having Patrick in the middle of us when I’m trying to-”

“Spoon me?” He lets out a huff and sends you a playful glare that makes you laugh as you reach your hand out for him to take. “And is that what you’re wanting to do right now?”

“Is it so wrong that I want to spend a day in bed cuddling my girlfriend?” He asks as he takes your hand so you can give it a little squeeze.

“Of course not.” You say with a smile as you let go of Harry’s hand so you can maneuver yourself to where your feet are dangling off the side of the bed. “Now help me up so I can go get a snack while you get rid of Patrick.” Harry is already getting out of bed and walking to your side by the time you’re done talking.

“No more grapes okay? You’ll give yourself a tummy ache.” He tells you as he helps you up, you just roll your eyes as your hands rub the top of your belly.

“So bossy.” You mumble on your way out the door making Harry chuckle as he hears the sound of Paris’s bell jingling letting him know the cat is following you to the kitchen, leaving his napping spot in the rocking chair in twin’s nursery.

“Sorry Patrick.” Harry tells the pregnancy pillow as he grabs it off your side of the bed. “But you’ve gotta go mate.” He says as he tosses it in the closet before shutting the door.

What feels like half an hour later but is really just ten minutes later Harry’s face breaks out into a grin when you waddle your way back into the bedroom licking your lips and carrying your water bottle. He is laying on his side of the bed, now in just a tank top and athletic shorts having ditched his sweatshirt since he knows you tend to always run a little hot and he doesn’t enjoy sweating while trying to get some quality cuddle time with you. You give him a smile as you place your water bottle on your nightstand and sit down on the edge of the bed with a small huff.

“And what did you three agree on for a snack?” He asks as you swing one leg at a time onto the bed, Harry has to practically hold his hands together to stop himself from reaching over and helping you but he knows if you want his help you’ll ask or simply look at him with that dramatically adorable pout. He knows you’re trying to still be as independent as possible without pushing yourself too far so even though it nearly kills him, he will politely sit and watch you take a few minutes to get comfortable on the bed.

“A slice of watermelon and two bites of cantaloupe.” You answer as you roll over to your side so you’re facing your nightstand. Harry takes your queue and wastes no time in scooting over and laying down next to you on his side.

“I thought you didn’t like the cantaloupe? Said it was too sweet?”

“I forgot.” You admit making Harry let out a chuckle as one of his arms slides under the pillow your head is on and his other wraps around your middle so his hand is resting on your belly. “But that’s why I only had two bites and not the whole container.” You explain with a yawn as Harry places a kiss to the top of your shoulder.

“I love you.” He whispers into your ear as he moves so your back is up against his front earning him a soft sigh of content from you.

“I love you too.” He knows by the way your voice sounds that you’re only a few minutes away from falling asleep so before he gets too comfortable he reaches towards the end of the bed and grabs the thin throw blanket and tosses it over the lower half of the two of you because he knows your feet and legs will get cold since you’re just in maternity bike shorts and an oversized t shirt. And even though it might not look it given how he tossed Patrick in the closet for the afternoon, he still wants you to be as comfortable as possible while cuddled up in his arms.

Harry is curled up behind you, his hand gripping your hip keeping you pressed together, his chest rising and falling steadily against your back. It’s not that he tries to intentionally wake you up, but he has his face nuzzled into the crook of your neck and he can’t help himself when he places a kiss to the spot below your ear earning him a small giggle from you. He smiles against your sensitive skin and it’s not until you begin to stir and arch your back making your backside press against him that he realizes just how much he’s been enjoying having your warm body pressed against him during your mid day nap.

He knows you can feel him begin to harden as you unconsciously press yourself against him again as you stretch your limbs. The breathy sigh he lets slip passed his lips has you pausing as his hand on your hip tightens its grip ever so slightly. He’s prepared to slide out of the bed and head to the bathroom to deal with his growing issue, not wanting to disturb your post nap bliss. But when you place a hand over his on your hip and slowly drag it up to slide under the waistband of your bike shorts his hips jerk making him let out a moan that’s muffled by his face still being nestled in the crook of your neck at the pleasant friction he gets from his shorts against his now fully hardened length.

“You’re so warm.” He says softly, his breath hot against your neck as his hand slowly travels down over your hip and under the band of your panties letting him feel your skin against his fingers. “And soft.” He mumbles as his hips grind against your backside causing a tiny gasp to leave your lips.

“Harry.” You say with a sigh, voice still slightly thick with sleep but now mixed with a burning need that has you instinctively pressing yourself back against him.

“Can I take these off baby?” He asks, breathing into your ear, when you just nod he doesn’t waste any time before he’s sliding your shorts and panties down your legs until you can kick them off letting them land on the floor. You reach a hand behind you and give the band of his athletic shorts a small tug letting him know you want them off which he quickly does and soon you’re letting out a soft breathy moan when you feel him gently lift your top leg so he can slide himself between your thighs.

“God you feel so good.” He lets out a moan at how good the friction of being nestled snuggly between your warm soft thighs feels against his length.

Slowly he begins to move his hips, gliding against the silky heat of your skin. The friction sends waves of pleasure pulsing through his body, each thrust is slow and deliberate, as if he doesn’t want the intimate moment between the two of you to end too soon.

“Fuck baby- I love feeling you like this.” He moans, his voice strained as his hips maintain their rhythmic pace, his cock sliding smoothly between your thighs.

His grip gently tightens on your hip as he pulls you closer against him, intensifying the sensation. He hears your breath hitch as his fingers slip down until his thumb is gently circling your sensitive bud, matching the slow pace of his thrusts.

“Harry please.” You beg as you press yourself firmly against his hand, seeking more of his touch. He knows what you need from him so he moves his hips faster and adds a bit more pressure to your clit. “Need-oh god.” He doesn’t let you get the rest of your request out before he’s slipping two fingers inside your warm center making a deep moan of pleasure bubble up from his chest when you grind down hard onto his hand, your backside meeting his hips.

“That’s what you needed isn’t it baby?” He whispers breathlessly before placing a kiss to the side of your neck, nipping at the spot below your ear. “Fuck-you’re so wet and-shit so warm I can feel you squeezing my fingers.” Your thighs clench tighter around him as he thrusts his fingers deeper inside your wetness while he continues giving your clit gentle circles with his thumb.

Harry lets out a groan as his hips begin moving faster, losing himself in the intoxicating rhythm, his fingers matching the pace making your eyes shut as he feels you tighten around his digits that are tucked inside of you.

“H-Harry I’m so-oh I’m close.” Your words have his thrusts becoming urgent and fervent, driven by pure instinct and passion. He pumps his fingers in and out of you with a new found determination, needing you to get your release before he can get his own.

“Just let go for me sweetheart. Make a mess all over my fingers.” He urges tenderly before his lips attach to your neck.

When his thumb adds more pressure to your clit you begin moaning his name as you let the pleasure overtake you in waves, your body is arching into Harry’s embrace as your climax leaves you slightly overwhelmed. The tightening of your thighs and the way you’re clenching around his fingers sends Harry spiraling over the edge, his release spilling warmly onto your thighs as his body shudders with an intense wave of pleasure.

“Shit.” He breaths heavily as your hand wraps around his wrist to stop his thumb from rubbing at your sensitive bundle, he slowly removes his fingers from inside you making you let out a soft sigh. He lifts his head just enough so he can bring his glistening digits up to his mouth, he can’t help the moan that leaves him as he tastes you on his tongue.

“You’re so dramatic.” You say with a giggle as you turn your head so you can get a better view of Harry’s face just as he takes his fingers from his mouth with a pop.

“Can’t help it I like the way you taste.” He tells you with a smile as he leans down to place a kiss to your lips.

“You made a mess.”

“Oh I made a mess? I think you meant to say we made a mess.”

“Now we need a shower and new sheets.” Harry just lets out a chuckle as his hand goes to the hem of your t shirt, slowly sliding under it letting him feel the softness of your belly.

“Might as well finish getting undressed then.” He whispers against your lips, his hand going higher until he’s cupping one of your bra covered breasts.

“Did you have another sex dream about me or something? What’s got you all horned up?” You tease as he gives your breast a soft squeeze when you turn your head to look over at the clock on your nightstand that lets you know your nap was a little over an hour.

“You’re just-so fucking sexy I can’t help it.” He answers as his lips kiss their way down your neck. “But let’s get you cleaned up and then I’ll change the sheets.” He gives your shoulder a kiss over the fabric of your t shirt before he slides his hand out from underneath it, he sits up as you roll over to your back.

“I love you.” Harry grins as you stare up at him with a smile on your face, when his eyes meet yours he finds himself almost getting lost in them.

“I love you too.” He says as he leans over so he can place a kiss to the top of your head. “Now come on let’s get you in the shower before you start to get cranky from missing your post nap snack.” This has you rolling your eyes but the smile doesn’t fall from your face and Harry knows it’s because you know he’s right. And in someway it has your heart wanting to melt because he knows you so well and despite all your little moody moments and the need to have eight snacks a day, he still loves you and you love him just as much.

[bananayuyu]

Tell Me No {3}

Pairing: professor!Yunho x f reader

Genre: smut, dark academia vibes

Word count: 4.3k

Summary: The semester is finally coming to an end, and the chance is upon you now to have Professor Jeong in every way. You wonder, what will the future hold?

Warnings: smut, MDNI, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex

A/n: I hope y'all enjoy this last part <33

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Masterlist | Read it on ao3

"When are you coming home?"

Your Dad's voice is distant and distracted coming through the phone, as it always is. He hadn't called all semester, just texted every Friday at the same time to ask 'how is school?' You were sure his secretary had put it in his planner, probably even sent the texts herself. He never texted further; you weren't even sure if he read your responses. Which was fine. You always said the same thing. 'Fine'.

You'd just completed your last exam of finals week, day two of Professor Jeong's final, the short story portion. You didn't think you'd written something as unique or atmospheric as you had during your trial run at his house, but it was adequate, you were quite sure. And with good grades on your three papers, you were sure at least a passing grade was coming your way.

When you'd set the completed story on his desk, Professor Jeong's eyes sharply locked onto yours, before he went back to reading his book, trying to ignore you. You had walked in wearing the puffer jacket he'd given you a few days before, that last evening spent together before he told you no more, that you must focus on your finals ahead and not think of him at all. You wouldn't be able to do that. You'd forgotten to wear a jacket when you made your way to his place that day for the same reason; your mind too full of your lust for him to remember how frigidly cold it was. Making it through the week of exams with your focus elsewhere was an unbelievable challenge.

There was something about seeing you in his clothes that had his pants feeling tighter in an instant. Out in the world, no one knew that the oversized black coat was his, but he did, and in his own way it felt like he'd staked his claim, knowing that as you wore it you felt the same, that you belonged to him, that there was no one else in the world you'd rather steal a jacket from.

It made his heart skip, like he was a shy, nervous teenager. Mine, he thought. Another few hours and you'd no longer be his student. He'd let himself have you, in the way he'd wanted to all along. It was tortuous watching you walk out the door of his classroom, knowing he'd have to wait around to answer questions, clean up and lock his classroom for winter break, and check in with his fellow teacher Professor Song before meeting you.

When you walked into the hallway, you opened your phone to find a text from your Dad. It was Friday, and his text came through predictably as it always did, late in the afternoon. His name on your screen made you roll your eyes, but this time you decided to actually answer him. Maybe it would twist the knife in a little more to know you were actually doing quite well. 'Good, just finished my last final,' you typed. Then, to your absolute surprise, he called you.

"You pass them all?" he asked without greeting you, his voice distant and thin, the sounds of his office wafting through in the background.

"I don't know yet, the professors have a week before final grades are due," you said, trying to keep your voice down in the desolate hall, knowing multiple finals were still ongoing in classrooms surrounding you. The walls of this old building were thankfully thick and impenetrable, but it would be your worst nightmare to get in trouble for disrupting another class's exam.

"When are you coming home?"

"I don't know yet," you finally answered him, with a deep sigh. Why did he care? He hardly ever asked you anything about your plans.

"Well I'm going to be in Singapore for business until the twenty-second, I leave tomorrow. And the house was in desperate need of a new paint job, so whole place is going to be in complete chaos until the day I return. If the workers finish as fast as they say they will, we'll see," he says, pausing. "One minute, Mr. Kang," he calls, much louder. Then, to you again, "I wouldn't come until then, unless you want to hang out in the guest house with your cousin."

The thought makes your face crinkle. Your cousin Jake was everything one would expect of a kid who grew up filthy rich: a partier, shit-stirrer, and uncommitted to anything. He was living in your Dad's guest house now because his parents had finally cut him off, and you remember the day he moved in vividly, watching through the window as your Dad slapped him on the back and laughed jovially, the pair two peas in a pod.

You knew he would offer the stupid boy a place in his company soon. Yet another reason you were determined to avoid the same fate for yourself.

"I'll just stay here then," you answered.

"The dorms will be empty though, is it safe?" he asked, and you scoffed. He only pretended to care about your safety when he was trying to control your next move, and you wondered what it was this time that he would try to force upon you.

"I think I'll stay with a friend," you said, sighing.

"A friend? Who, Sana? Jihyo?" he asked, mentioning the only friends of yours he knew by name. You supposed he might think these two were your only friends here at college, and that was by design; they were the only girls you befriended who came from money like you did, and you knew he wouldn't approve of all of the other amazing people who'd graced your life, who'd helped you gain perspective and a better understanding of your place in the world. Your Dad didn't give a shit about that.

"No, it's a new friend I made this semester," you said.

"Don't you dare go stay with a boy, I can't have you getting pregnant and running to me to fix the situation," he chided. "If you come with me to Singapore you can see more of the business, meet a good friend of mine, it would be much better for you."

"I'm not going with you," you laughed, shaking your head at his continued attempts to pull you into his world. "I'm staying here, and I'll see you at Christmas."

With that final statement you hang up the phone, setting it on the bench beside you and sighing into your hands. You pull your knees up and curl into a ball, finally taking a moment. Finals were done. You had done it, you'd survived. You almost couldn't believe it, the last week passing with such exhaustion and your mind full of concrete, it seemed. It was like you'd worked your brain so hard it was turning to stone.

Now that it was all over, the fatigue was hitting you. You yawned, resting your head on your knees. You hadn't planned what you would do after your exam today, having been so focused on just getting yourself through it to think beyond. You feel yourself nearly drifting off, your eyeslids heavy. A quick nap couldn't hurt, you think. You'd seen other students doing this too, and were sure the bustle of students finally leaving their exams would wake you. You sat your bag on the bench beside you and laid your head on it, pulling Professor Jeong's jacket over you like a blanket.

When you wake, the hallway is as empty and silent as you'd left it, but somehow the building feels colder, and completely still. You feel a slight wet spot beneath your cheek, and much to your dismay realize you'd been drooling. Quickly you sit up and wipe at your face, before hearing the jangling of keys coming from down the hall. Two men exit the room by the front door, standing in hushed conversation in front of it. You look over your shoulder through the window behind, and see a line of students meandering towards the dorms and dining hall, others walking in the direction of the train station. The building is empty, you suddenly realize, and you'd completely slept through the end of exams. You snap your head back to the professors, watching them make for the front door to leave.

"Wait!" you call out, the pair turning their heads in unison. Now you see, one has rich black hair and those devilish eyes you love. The other is just as tall as Professor Jeong, but with lighter hair, and glasses.

"You alright?" the other man calls to you, stopping in his tracks.

"I fell asleep, I'm sorry," you call, grabbing for your bag, then realizing you need to put your jacket on first and setting it down again.

"You go ahead Mr. Song, I know the Dean's expecting you. I'll help her," Professor Jeong says to the other man, and in a moment the front door opens and closes, and you're alone in this huge hall with this perfect man, his long strides bringing him to you quickly.

"I thought I told you to just meet me at my house," he says as he nears you.

"I know, I just was so exhausted, I didn't mean to fall asleep for so long. All the exams are over, right?" you ask.

"Yes, I'm glad you called out to us, we were about to lock up the building for the winter."

Your eyes are wide with fear and shock when you look to him, making him chuckle. "It's okay, the Janitor is scheduled to come through tomorrow, so you wouldn't have starved to death." You playfully punch at his arm in shock, shaking your head. Your life here really did feel strange sometimes. You sighed and looked up at him, wishing you could kiss him now and leave all of this behind. But there was still a window, still all of campus to contend with.

"Listen, we have to go out the front door today so I can lock up, so you just head to the station and meet me at my place. Here's money for your ticket," he says, pulling out his wallet and setting it in your hand.

"I just wanna go with you," you say as you stand, starting to walk out with him.

"I know darling, me too," he sighs, pulling you against a corner of the hall by the front doors where there were no windows, and kissing you hard against the wall.

"Just another hour and we can be together in private," he sighs, moving his lips to your ear, your throat, your collar bone. You moan and push him off, shooting daggers with your eyes.

"Stop teasing me," you pout, but you're loving every minute of it, loving that he couldn't even make it out of this hallway without kissing and touching you.

Outside the wind is blowing, the grass on the lawns close to dead, the sky half covered in winter clouds. Without another glance in his direction you make for the train station, hoards of other students doing the same, suitcases and duffel bags in hand. You zip your jacket high up to your neck, pulling the hood over your ears to keep the freezing wind from bruising them. It hits you suddenly that you'll never be his student again, that you'll never be sat in his class daydreaming about the professor in front of you instead of actually listening to his words.

"One ticket to Forthsmith station please," you tell the man at the ticket booth, handing over your dollar.

It's a bit disappointing to know that cozy classroom will never be your classroom again. The making eyes at each other, the stolen glances and brief touches, the way it all felt so wrong and so right. Things would be so different going forward, there was no question.

But as much as you dreaded the change, there was relief in it too. You were pretty sure now things could escalate further, that he'd finally have you all the way. And maybe beyond college, if you were careful enough with him and he with you, you'd find a companion for the long journey called life.

"You heading home too?" Marcus's piercing voice cuts through your daydreaming, bringing you right back to the crowded, stuffy platform you're standing on.

"No, heading to a friend's house," you sigh softly, while he makes his way to stand right next to you, suitcase in hand.

"Were you able to finish your story?" he asks, turning to look at you, but you don't meet his gaze. As much as you'd stopped hating him, you were sort of thankful you wouldn't have to see him anymore, either. You were on different degree paths, only overlapping for this one class. It wasn't sad to think you wouldn't be hearing this voice ever again.

"Yeah, did you?" you ask sharply.

"Barely, just as prof said we were out of time," he says. You look to your right and finally spot your professor, who makes his way in your direction. "I'm sure it was good enough to pass, and if that asshole fails me I'll just have my dad take it up with the Dean."

You hear a soft chuckle behind you, and with a quick glance see the man he's just called an asshole, biting his lip to trying to stop smirking.

"I think he overheard you," you say to Marcus. His face shoots over his shoulder now too, and his eyes go wide at seeing Professor Jeong's face.

"Sir- I- I'm so sorry-"

"It's fine, I grade based on principal, not on how much I like my students," he sighs, shooting a quick look your way. You chuckle, knowing his distain for your classmate. It was one you shared, you supposed. Both glad to be done with him.

But more than anything, both glad to have time to yourselves.

You sit apart on the train, the car packed the whole way to his station, many students heading the full two-hour ride up north to the neighboring city they were from. Few get off at his station, and you're so happy for it, realizing how much the privacy and calm of his neighborhood mean to you. Campus was fun in it's own ways, and you appreciated being so close to so many things, but out just a ways in this tucked away street, you felt completely safe to just be you.

With him, you could just be. It had been that way since the first night, that night when you'd worried and fretted as you walked in his house, that night when your lust overcame you and sent you down a path that now stretched far ahead. The landscape of your love was filled with gorgeous forests and rainy days, with the softness of snow and the warmth of fire. You never wanted to leave this cozy nook, his arms around you, nose in your hair, body strong and warm beneath you.

As soon as you'd arrived, you'd both changed clothes, and for the first time you saw him in grey sweatpants and a baggy hoodie, looking cozier and softer than ever before. You borrowed a hoodie and a pair of shorts; they reached down to your shins, looking almost like pants. With a pair of thick long socks on too, you looked ridiculous, like a twelve year old boy in his dad's clothing. But it was comfortable, and that was what mattered. You laid down on his couch, cuddling in the warmth of the fire, sighing into each other.

"Semester's finally over," he says, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead.

"I'm so nervous for my grades," you respond, sighing.

"You shouldn't be, I know you've worked very hard. Your short story was marvelous."

"You read it already?"

"While the other students were finishing theirs," he says, smiling into you.

"You liked it?" you ask.

"Of course I did, you're quite the little genius," he praises, making your body ache with need. "Do you wanna hear just how much I loved it?"

You giggle into his chest, knowing that he knows just what this does to you, how much it turns you on.

"Yes," you whisper, heat springing in your cheeks, your entire body flushing.

"You set the tone perfectly, you have a way with doing that. The first sentence immediately grabbed me, because it was exactly what I was expecting until the last word. And I had been expecting another gothic or horror story from you, because of your last two, but you went with fantasy instead. It shows me you have such range, you can manipulate words beautifully no matter where they're coming from, or where they're headed..."

His words are going straight to your cunt, your head fuzzy. How could you possibly so lucky to find someone who knew you so well? Who said all the right things, was sweet enough but rough enough too, was balanced and inspiring, setting you in the right direction. He was a mentor to you, not just the man you lusted after; he was keeping you on track, making sure you'd have the confidence you needed to finish your degree and go succeed in the real world.

"You're perfect," you mumble, completely relaxed.

"No, that's you," he says, kissing your forehead again, wrapping his hands all the way around you and pulling you directly on top of him, squeezing you tightly. You giggle at the sensation, lifting your head up to place a quick kiss on his plump lips, but soon it's more, soon your knees are pulled up on either side of him and your tongue is finding his, soon you've forgotten where and who you are, completely lost in him.

He sits up and lifts you, the kiss only breaking for a moment as he starts walking down the hall. He slowly pushes open a door you've never been inside, the hinges creaking slightly, and then he breaks the kiss again to turn on a lamp in the corner, finally illuminating the space. You look to your side to see his bed, his reading corner, the stack of books on his nightstand. You're finally in his room, finally seeing the space he spends every night, and you hope one day it's as familiar to you as it is to him, that you can call it your home, too.

He lays you down gently, holding you with tender care as he kisses you more, your mouths wrapped in a perfect dance, licking and biting in perfect rhythm; just weeks in and you already know everything, how to mold to him, how to be the perfect reflection of his every movement. It feels like angels are singing as he deepens the kiss, as he swipes his tongue over yours harshly, as he grabs onto your ass and leaves your skin red from the strength of it. He snakes his hands under the hoodie you're wearing and feels over your chest too, loving how you moan in his mouth at the slightest touch of your nipple, how they pebble instantly in his hands. His mouth moves to your neck as he reaches under your waist and almost devours you, letting your soft moans escape into the buzzing air of the room, letting them drift into his ears and make his cock hard.

Satisfied with how you're writhing beneath him, he finally sits back, tugging at the waist of your shorts to pull them down and off, then diving into the hot wet spot between your legs, lapping up the arousal already leaking from you. He makes quick work of you, already knowing how you like it, what makes your legs shake and your mouth hang open. He doesn't finger you though, knowing what's about to come and wanting you to wait for the shock of the feeling. He knows he's big, and has no idea what your experience is, but is sure the look on your face will be priceless when you finally feel him stretching you from within.

Your thighs are clenching around his head as he licks slow circles over your clit, and you're tipping over the edge so quickly, still unsure how he can do it so easily, how he's already figured you out. He comes up for air looking deliciously disheveled, and you reach out your arms, beckoning him to you. The taste of you on his lips is intoxicating, musky and heady and the tiniest bit sweet, and you're grasping at him underneath his hoodie, relishing the feeling of his skin, needing more of it. Soon you're pulling at it, and he relents his kissing to allow you to take it off, his muscular torso greeting you, pale skin almost yellow in the soft light of his room. He then pulls at your hoodie too, and soon you're in nothing but your socks, and he is too, and you can see his long cock is hard and flushed at the tip, making your mouth water with need.

You'd only ever felt it through his pants, and now feeling it in your hand is electrifying, how heavy and hot it is, how utterly perfect. He hisses at the feeling, your hand cold against him, sending shockwaves of pleasure through him, his pent up need finally showing itself. He'd lied to himself all semester, pretending he didn't think anything of you; it was wrong to lust after a student, of course it was, but it was something he couldn't help. He'd begun to think you'd never talk to him, that you didn't have even the slightest bit of interest back; after that first night in his office he'd been waiting to do this, to finally feel every part of you, to be locked together in this most perfect way.

He sinks into you slowly, holding the base of his shaft as he does, trying to be careful. He can see already, only halfway down, that you're having trouble taking him; your head falls back with your eyebrows knitted together, as if in pain. But you beg him to go on, to give you everything, and there's no way he can say no to that. With effort he finally sheaths himself, leaning down into you to just hold you, letting your cunt take its time adjusting. With soft kisses and praise he distracts you, and soon you're not feeling any pain, only the perfect sensation of being completely filled, his cock touching every part of you inside.

"Please move," you whisper, pulling on his hair and kissing him deeply, as he chuckles.

"Of course, angel," he smiles into you, slowly pulling out, and pushing back in even slower, dragging out the immense pleasure. You're both groaning messes, completely entranced by the feelings it's bringing, so intense, so sweet, so deep and sating. It's hard to believe you are here, experiencing this; you're coming around him so quickly, shaking and holding onto him as you moan, his arms around your waist again as you arch into him. Again he's reading you so easily, knowing exactly how to make you feel best, even though you've never done this together, before; it's a feeling you want to capture and bottle, so you can bathe in it whenever you need a reminder of just how wonderful life can be.

You quickly come again, slick gushing out of you with force, covering his sheets in wetness. His pace picks up in reaction, and soon his moans are growing too, his movements more erratic, until he's releasing inside you with a low 'fuck,' his warmth filling you. The sensation is delectable, another you wish to know over and over again. His body collapses on top of you and you wrap your arms and legs around him tightly, squeezing tight as you kiss and hold each other, the minutes passing by with ease.

This bed was now familiar to you. And the smell of his skin was, too.

"Can I ask you something?"

It's you who finally breaks the silence, running a hand through his hair.

"Hm?" he responds, lifting you both up to a sitting position, wrapped around each other still as you lean against his headboard.

"I can't go home until the 22nd," you start, "can- can I stay here with you?"

"Of course darling, I'd love that," he says, kissing your cheek. "I will be very busy with grading over the next week, so it might be quite boring for you."

"With your library, I could never be bored," you say, and a huge smile breaks out on his face, his bottom lip catching in his teeth a moment.

"God, you're wonderful," he sighs, tipping your face up to meet his, kissing you deeply.

"I wanna be with you," you say, breaking the kiss, looking into his eyes deeply, knowingly. You couldn't hold it in any longer; it was true, it was all that you could think of, and you needed him to know. It was serious for you, the feelings you were having. It was too early to call them what they were, but you were sure that four letter word described them perfectly.

"I wanna be with you too," he smiles, pulling you into a warm, caring hug. He's still inside you, your bodies still locked together. It was too perfect of a feeling to not savor to the bitter end. That was how he felt with you, in ever way; he wasn't sure how long you'd be there, but as long as you were in his life, he'd savor every minute.

{the end}

Taglist: @iamalily @atzri @marii1087 @dilfkimhjj @yunyuniverse @yourfavoritedeluluspot @wizorbit99 @yeottoks @ateezgurl @hanjiyunho

thank you for reading my work, my loves <33333

[neptuneiris]

could you pretend to be in love? (02/10)

The Contract

pairing: modern!aemond × fem!reader (fake dating)

summary: there is no turning back now and now you and Aemond set the rules and conditions to start the whole farce.

word count: 4.6k

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HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!🥳

I thought this would be a very nice way to wish happy new year to all of you beautiful people who support me and like what I write, you don't know how much that means to me🥺

thank you for so much support and for so much love, I have loved being here and I definitely plan to stay for longer, seeing how that love evolves and my place here as a writer🥰 so enjoy a lot this new chapter that I really hope you like it a lot❤

many blessings to all of you, my best wishes for your lives in this 2024, I love you all so much!😊❤

enjoy!

It's the first thing you see after turning off the alarm and you curiously enter to read the recent messages from an unknown number, not having the slightest idea of who it might be.

But you let out a long sigh of frustration when you read them and see that it's Aemond, who you don't understand how the fuck he got your number. Of course, it shouldn't have been hard for him, just a few questions and anyone can tell him what he wants to know.

And knowing that you have a long day ahead of you today, you already feel the pressure all over your body when you haven't even left your bed, where you also feel the frustration and all this uncertainty that you thought you had already overcome, but no.

You barely accepted yesterday and suddenly putting the plan into action from one day to the next, it's too much. But without really having a choice, you reluctantly force yourself to get up and start getting ready.

After an hour, you leave your house with the nagging feeling of carrying a weight on your shoulders to school. And all the way there, not even the music in your ears can make your mind calm down for a moment.

Knowing very soon that your whole social life will be a mess and you will no longer be invisible, since after all Aemond was right in that respect, causes you even more uneasiness and also nervousness because you are going to pretend to be the girlfriend of the most popular guy in school.

And once the bus makes its stop, you soon enter the halls of the bustling school. And knowing that a certain silver-haired guy is waiting for you right now, every heavy step you take towards the schoolyard echoes loudly in your ears, increasing your nervousness and anxiety.

You're even tempted to back up and tell him to forget it, but you resist and keep moving forward.

As you walk through the huge doors of the backyard, it's only a matter of time before you make out the figure of Aemond sitting at the same table as yesterday in the distance. Your heart skips a beat and you feel more nervous, but gathering your courage and taking a long breath, you advance towards him, ready but with uncertain steps.

Every step seems heavy, as if you are walking into the unknown and you try to hide the nerves in your gaze, especially when Aemond notices your presence. He watches you and slowly turns to you, a subtle smile on his lips.

Again there is that feeling of telling him to forget it, to find someone else, that you can't do this. But... your mind stops you and screams at you not to be silly, that at the end of it all there will be a reward, a very good reward that getting it by faking a relationship with him, is nothing.

And it's definitely worth it.

So resigned, you reach out to him.

"Hey," he says to you without wiping off his little smile, as you take a seat in front of him and he waits for you to finish settling in, "So you've come."

"Don't bother me," you tell him without humor, definitely contrasting his mood to yours.

"Now what did I do?"

"That," you point to his face, "You're enjoying this, seeing that I haven't backed out."

"Oh, please, I actually thought you wouldn't come and tell me to fuck off after you thought better of it," he justifies himself.

"Yeah? Well, nothing a free admission to your dream college won't do," you say with a slightly sarcastic tone, though implicitly admitting your reasons, "And it's actually not like I like skipping classes, so could we get this started?"

Aemond exhales long, averting his gaze from yours for a moment before returning to watching you.

"You know you'll have to be charming and act like you're completely in love with me in public, right?" he poses, expectantly.

"Yes, I know... in public," you point out to him, "Just now no one knows we're 'dating' genius," you add, underlining the falsity of the situation.

He places a small, amused, smirk on his lips.

"Yet."

He adds with a slightly defiant tone and you roll your eyes.

"Don't get too excited either."

"Are you not?"

"Oh yeah, I can't handle the excitement," you feign in a high-pitched, ironic voice, making exaggerated hand gestures.

Aemond lets out a short but genuine laugh at your gesture. He leans back slightly, his eye revealing a mischievous glint as he watches you.

"Glad to see you're keeping your sense of humor in this," he says with his tone changing slightly to a more relaxed one.

"I don't have much choice, do I?" you reply, accepting his change of mood, but still maintaining a certain emotional distance.

You figure it's just a matter of the two of you getting more into trust, and if you're going to do this with him, you're definitely going to do your part. But for now, this is still a little awkward and unexpected. And the sooner you do this, the better it will be for you.

So you shift your focus and lean forward slightly with a more serious expression on your face.

"So let's get started?"

"Well, making a contract will take up a lot of our time, so I thought it would be easier to just say and agree between us-

"It will be easier this way, to write down and establish the rules and the conditions we want to do during all this, just to have everything clear and not miss anything, Aemond," you interrupt him, taking out a notebook and a pen to start writing.

"Okay, fine," he says, shrugging his shoulders.

"So?" you watch him expectantly with the blank sheet of paper in front of you and your pen in hand, "What do you suggest first?"

"Well... first we need to know when this will all end," he begins to say, adopting a relaxed but firm stance, "And I would say that it may end when it is no longer necessary for both of you to continue pretending. But I think it's a better idea for us to last until graduation."

He proposes, looking at you intently, waiting for your reaction and you can't help but be a little surprised to hear that.

"Until graduation?" you repeat and he nods, "But you really want to do this for almost five months?"

"I know it's a long time, but that time can be beneficial for both of us," he explains, "That's enough time to give our relationship credibility and authenticity and it's also enough time to handle any problems that arise."

He says and you nod cautiously, evaluating his words.

"But if you disagree, tell me," he hurries to say.

His calm tone and your reasons contrast with the uncertainty and indecision you feel. And the two of you have barely started.

Five months is such a compromising situation and it generates some concern, because you know you will face so many things you still have no idea about and every day it could become more complicated to maintain the farce.

"I guess it's okay," you cautiously admit, trying to see the big picture, "But I feel like it's still a long time. But also reducing that time might not be enough," you agree.

"Yes but I'm sure we can handle it. And don't worry, if at some point we feel it's too much or we don't have enough reason to keep pretending anymore, we can talk iand end it."

You remain pondering, considering his words and after a few seconds you nod in agreement, and write it down as the first point on the sheet. But this alone is the first piece of a much more complicated puzzle.

1. Duration of relationship: Until graduation.

And Aemond also brings up the next point of the contract, expressing his ideas with quiet but evident assurance.

"Now, second..." he begins, "As for behavior in public, we should genuinely show affection in the hallways, cafeteria, and at any school activity and event. In a relationship people don't take their hands off each other, so we should smile at each other, hug each other, make subtle gestures, hold hands-

"Don't say kissing, please," you interrupt him, pleading, taking him by surprise.

"Of course, Y/N," he tells you instantly, incredulous, "Obviously we'll have to kiss."

As if having to act completely in love with him and be every moment touching him isn't enough. But the idea of kissing seems a bit much to you.

"I agree about showing affection and all that, but that kissing thing might be awkward and... weird," you say, trying to be sincere but not seeming completely closed off to the idea.

Aemond looks at you incredulously.

"So you don't want us to kiss?"

"I don't think it's necessary, honestly."

"Are you crazy? How are we supposed to pretend if we're not going to kiss? No one's going to believe us if we don't kiss and that's what will literally make the whole relationship believable," he insists, visibly concerned.

"Yeah, I get that it might seem necessary, but...at least I don't want to be having to kiss you every single time."

"You don't want to kiss me?" he asks you, visibly surprised, confused and... maybe a little hurt?

You watch him silently for a moment not understanding his reaction and then watch him with a small amused smile.

"I'm not one of your fans, Targaryen."

"Oh come on, everyone wants to kiss me," he says confused and incredulous, proving his point.

"Even the guys?"

"Well... yeah, I don't know, maybe some of them," he says with a shrug.

"Seven Hells," you mutter, averting your gaze for a moment, "I-I really don't want to do that," you say, speaking seriously and then you let out a sigh, "But you're right that no one's going to believe us-

"Obviously. I always have," he is quick to say.

"So my proposal is this... we'll kiss, yes, but only when it's extremely necessary, and when I say extremely necessary I mean extremely necessary."

You watch him intently, keeping yourself willing with your proposal, waiting for his opinion, which judging by his face, he doesn't quite agree with.

"And what would those extremely necessary moments be exactly?" he inquires, attentive and interested, also still looking slightly worried.

"In the cafeteria or in the hallways when everyone is obviously looking at us and we're attracting attention. Just don't abuse it."

Aemond lets out a long breath.

"Well, let's limit them to extremely necessary moments," he finally says resignedly and you quickly note the second point.

2. Behavior in public: Show affection as genuinely as possible in public, such as gestures, hugs, and holding hands. KISSING ONLY WHEN EXTREMELY NECESSARY.

"But then that second point is also going to apply to the parties you'll be going to with me and my lacrosse games you'll be going to."

You quickly raise your gaze to him.

"What?"

"Yes," he nods, "Going to the parties together will also lend credibility to the relationship and obviously we have to be very close to each other. And it's the same in my games, you must go to support and encourage me, like any girlfriend in love with her boyfriend would."

Aemond's words provoke an instant reaction in you, that confusing you and taking you by surprise.

"But I don't go to parties."

"Now you will," he says with a calm expression, reaching out his hand and taking the pen and your notebook.

"But-

He is already writing in a section further down the sheet which he lists as; 'additional conditions'.

Parties.

Lacrosse games.

"Aemond, I'm not a big fan of parties, really," you insist, "You'll have a bad time if you take me with you and I'll probably ruin everything."

"Don't worry, I'll teach you the trick to having a good time and change that mentality you have. Besides I won't take you to every party, just a few," he assures you, "All while keeping up appearances," he hands you back your notebook and pen, "With me you'll never get bored, I promise," he says with a small smile on his lips.

You let out a sigh, placing the notebook back in front of you, still undecided.

"Yes? Well, we'll see about that. I warned you though."

He lets out a soft little laugh.

"Come on Y/N, you can't be that bad."

"I assure you I can be."

"And so what do you do for fun?" he asks you, keeping his smile, curiosity evident in his gaze.

And there it is, the question that totally describes your personality and that in fact you don't like to answer to just anyone, because then they call you boring. But you can't lie to Aemond, he is astute enough and would notice.

So you decide to be honest.

"I like to read," you reply, lowering your gaze and feeling slightly embarrassed, "And I love going to the movies or watching movies and shows at home, either one is totally fine with me. Oh... and... hm... I also like ice skating, although I don't do that as often but... it's something I like too."

And even though it's only a bit of the world of things you like, Aemond listens to you attentively with a soft expression, saying nothing afterwards, as if he's processing every word you've said, while you only feel more embarrassed by the silence.

You know there's nothing wrong with it but it always made you insecure to share your hobbies, mostly because you know that many girls your age enjoy their teenage years going out with friends to parties and getting drunk.

That didn't and doesn't appeal to you now. You have long been more comfortable with the idea of staying home or going out somewhere else instead of going to parties.

It's not as if you don't attend or avoid every social event, yes you can attend and have a good time depending on who you are with and where, but not as often as every weekend.

However, you understand and recognize the logic behind Aemond's suggestion and that is that attending parties, is essential. And just as he is about to finally speak, you do so first.

"I know they are simple things and are not very exciting for most people. I also know they can be very boring but for me... that's what I like," you shyly confess.

"Hm," he says, taking a small moment, watching you softly, only causing you even more embarrassment, "Well, that's not what I was going to say," he says, catching your attention, "Sometimes it is the simple things that mean the most to everyone and, being honest... I find them interesting," he adds, trying to evaporate any awkwardness and embarrassment you might feel.

You raise your gaze, meeting his bright blue eye watching you softly and with his gaze full of genuine understanding, along with that hint of curiosity. And that gets your attention too.

He's not judging you. And even though it's not something he would do or at least hasn't tried to do yet, he's not judging you for it and you see that genuine interest in his gaze.

"Tell you what, for every party you go to with me, I'll read one of your favorite books or a movie or shows you want me to watch," he says, picking up the notebook and pen again.

"What?" you look at him confused, unable to help but smile in bewilderment, "Are you serious?"

"You must set your own conditions too," he states as he writes, "I already dragged you into my world, so now you're dragging me into yours," he looks up at you, "What do you think? Is it a fair exchange or not?"

His proposal takes you by surprise and also confuses you a little, however, the small smile remains on your face.

The genuine expression of openness on his face and the determination with which he wrote definitely makes you feel more comfortable. His willingness to immerse himself in your interests was not something you had agreed upon from the beginning, nor is it something extremely necessary to fake a relationship.

But it's for the simple reason that you both feel comfortable if you're going to pretend for almost five months and it seems like a nice gesture from him to include it, something you honestly didn't expect from him.

And when he gives you back your notebook, you see the new rule under 'additional conditions'.

For every party Y/N goes to with me, I will read a book or watch one of her favorite movies or shows.

"Yes," you nod, "Sounds like a fair deal to me."

Aemond smiles, pleased with your answer and also seeing the expression on your face.

"Great. We'll see if I discover something new I like. And you too..." he points at you with his index finger, "You won't regret it after you have a great time at my parties," he says enthusiastically, with a sort of complicity in his tone.

"Well, we'll see if you manage to impress me."

And right there, the two of you exchange complicit glances, Aemond having that little smile on his lips while you don't understand this strange new alliance the two of you are building.

But even though you didn't expect it, it's definitely to your liking.

"Now, third..." you point to the notebook with your pen, "Reinforcing the second rule, public appearance," you say, observing him, "We must act as a committed and attentive couple to each other at school and to these parties you want us to go to."

Aemond nods determinedly, thoughtfully.

"Yes, commitment at all times," he states seriously.

"So, that also means that neither of us can be with other people for the duration of all this, not even secretly," you add, making the point clear.

"And you want to write that as a rule too? It's obvious that neither of us should-

"I'll write it as the fourth rule, just to be clear about everything as I told you."

"Oh, fine."

3. Public appearance: Act like a real couple in love, be committed and attentive to each other at school and social events.

4. No involvement with other girls/guys: No casual encounters or texting with anyone else for the duration of the fake relationship.

"Oh and also..." says Aemond, reminding, "Since we're at that point, on additional conditions write that we should both upload photos and videos together on our social media. It's another way to lend credibility to our relationship."

"Photos and videos together on our social media," you repeat, looking at the notebook.

And this catches Aemond's attention.

"Don't tell me you don't use your social media," he says beginning to sound alert and concerned.

"No, no, I-I mean, yes," you hasten to say, "It's just... I don't know, I most likely don't use them as often as you do, besided I have very few followers."

"Don't worry, whatever followers you have are fine. Besides, I'm sure they'll increase when I upload my first photo with you."

You roll your eyes with an amused smile.

"Okay, Mr. Popularity."

"And speaking of that, hand me your Instagram and all your networks," he says instantly, grabbing his cell phone from his front pocket, "We better have that all figured out now."

Obviously Aemond's accounts had to be public while you maintain your privacy, with barely thirteen hundred followers while he has almost the entire school following him and probably from other schools as well.

In fact, your numbers compared to his are embarrassing. But you never really had the interest of having more followers on Instagram or more friends on Facebook, Snapchat is the same and apparently that doesn't matter to Aemond.

Upload photos and videos together to our social media.

"And well, I also think another very important thing is to maintain privacy," you suggest, lifting your gaze to watch him and Aemond gives you a confused look.

"Do you really want to write that down too? It's obvious we can't tell anyone-

"Let me enjoy this, Aemond. It's actually fun and I want to write it all down. So act serious," you ask.

He lets out a choked laugh.

"Well, yes, we must be discreet, no one must know that all this is false, only we know the truth and we must keep it that way," he says and you excitedly write it down.

"We mustn't involve our families in this either," you add, watching him intently, "But that will be difficult because your siblings are here," you grimace.

"We can keep up the farse with them for a while too, I'll convince them not to say anything to my mother or the rest of my family. And once everyone here at school is convinced enough, I'll tell the truth only to them," he say sure and confident, solving the problem.

"And you're sure you'll manage to keep them that way?"

"Yeah," he says with a shrug, "They're my siblings. I know how it works with each one."

5. Maintain privacy: Tell absolutely no one about the fake relationship or involve each other's families in it.

"Oh, right, I almost forgot..." Aemond says as he points to what is already written, "You must also go on each year's trip to Dragonstone with me. That's another additional condition of mine."

"What?" you inquire again, surprised and confused.

"Yes, the trip to Dragonstone," he affirms.

Oh God, the trip to Dragonstone.

Dragonstone is an island not far from King's Landing, where there is an ancient castle with a lot of history but has been modernized with the same name and is open to every visitor.

The school makes an annual trip for educational purposes as the castle has relics and structuring from thousands of years ago. You have seen pictures and videos where everything looks really beautiful, ancestral and almost royalty.

In addition the castle offers other activities, such as rides on its huge luxury yachts, surfing, diving and swimming lessons.

You always had the spirit to go but have always known that the trip is anything but educational. You've heard stories that happen with the students, such as getting drunk, partying on the yachts, hot tubs and obviously you've heard stories of who slept with whom.

Even the most reserved get to have fun and it's not something you're interested in. You know you don't fit in that environment, especially since everyone has to share a room and you're sure that if you go, you'll have to share a room with girls with different tastes and perspectives than yours. They probably won't even let you sleep.

"Come on Y/N, you've never been to Dragonstone?" asks Aemond incredulously, noting the grimace on your face for wanting you to go there with him.

"Well, yeah I've wanted to go but... I-I, I don't know, I've heard that instead of learning about the place, everyone goes to having fun, they party, they get drunk and I-I don't...

"And what do you expect us to do in a modern castle on the shore of the beach with yachts and hot tubs?" he inquires again, expectantly, "The trip is planned for the middle of the last month of these five months and you can't let me go alone with the things that go on in that place."

You make your grimace more visible, revealing your clear indecision. And even though you and Aemond have been at odds lately over the matter of tastes, he still places a soft smile in your direction, understanding that you are not like him and prefer to do other things.

"Look, you don't have to go to the parties and drink if you don't want to," he starts to tell you, "But we can at least go to one of the parties on the yachts and then do the activities they offer on site, swimming, diving and all that," he proposes, "We'll take pictures, tour the castle and we'll both be equally satisfied."

You ponder for a moment, considering his proposal. You know you only have to get your father's signature on the permit to be able to go to the island and it's not like you've gone before so... you can do it now.

"Well, I guess that's fine," you nod, "But really promise you won't leave me alone and we'll take the time to do other activities that aren't related to partying on yachts and hot tubs."

"Please, we'll go as a couple, so of course I won't leave you alone. You'll be stuck with me," he assures you, "And I also promise you that we'll do other activities, not just the parties."

"And..." you start to say, in a serious, warning tone, "Also promise you'll pick me up every morning to bring me to school. That's another one of my additional conditions. The bus isn't very comfortable anymore."

He nods, shrugging, completely unconcerned.

"Sure, it's no problem. Besides it will make the relationship more credible," he says softly.

Despite your doubts, you feel a sense of relief at seeing and acknowledging his commitment. And you also feel more confident knowing that you have his support in all of this, even in your conditions. So you write down the two new additional conditions.

Drive Y/N every morning to school.

Dragonstone trip.

At the end you both sign the sheet, looking honestly ridiculous but being funny, then both seal the whole contract by shaking hands.

"So when do we start all this?" you ask him, putting away your notebook and pen.

"I say tomorrow," he gives you a look of understanding, "But we need to talk now during classes in the hallways or in the cafeteria, so that when they see us together tomorrow, it won't be so surprising and will seem more believable."

You give him an unsure look.

"I think it will still be very surprising, Aemond."

"It doesn't matter, we just have to start showing together today, just talking. But tomorrow is when we really start."

And just as he says those words, with that determination, you feel again those nerves in your lower abdomen and that insecurity. But at least you still have all day today to mentally prepare yourself, and you're grateful for that.

"And before I forget this too..." he says again, "I need you to send me all your academic information to work on your college application now," he tells you seriously and you watch him completely attentively, "The five months will go by fast and during that time college applications will start. So it's best to get it all in now."

At this, you feel your heart start to beat fast and you don't know why, you guess because it's a very important issue for you. And more than anything else it's the reason you agreed to do this with him.

"Yeah, yeah, sure," you say softly, "I-I'll email it all to you."

He smiles softly in your direction.

"Very well," he nods at you, "I'll text you my email."

Despite your slight doubts about whatever is going to happen next, the idea of starting a fake relationship leaving you with a knot in your stomach and feeling your emotions mixed, you know this will all be worth a try.

So you pick up your phone and you start to write in an email all your personal and academic information. While at the same time all is said and done and the fake relationship contract is over.

THE CONTRACT

Duration of relationship: Until graduation.

Behavior in public: Show affection as genuinely as possible in public, such as gestures, hugs, and holding hands. KISSING ONLY WHEN EXTREMELY NECESSARY.

Public appearance: Act like a real couple in love, be committed and attentive to each other at school and social events.

No involvement with other girls/guys: No casual encounters or texting with anyone else for the duration of the fake relationship.

Maintain privacy: Tell absolutely no one about the fake relationship or involve each other's families in it.

ADDITIONAL CONDITIONS

Parties.

Lacrosse games.

For every party Y/N goes to with me, I will read a book or watch one of her favorite movies or shows.

Upload photos and videos together to our social media.

Drive Y/N every morning to school.

Dragonstone trip.

general taglist

@melsunshine @at-a-rax-ia @jxdegodfrey @ttkttt @yentroucnagol @kate-to-the-ki @iamavailablesstuff

[dixons-sunshine]

Someone To Love | Young!Daryl Dixon x Young!Fem!Reader

Summary: Daryl treasured his friendship with you. You were everything to him, someone he could go to when he needed you. On his sixteenth birthday, you did something for him that made him realize that his love for you ran much deeper than he had initially thought.

Genre: Fluff.

Era: Pre apocalypse.

Part of the Shopping Spree, Hangout Dreams AU.

Warnings: Swearing.

Word count: 1.8k.

A/n: I'm really sleep deprived, so this potentially sucks really bad. It's also not exactly like what was requested, but I went with my gut and this was born. However, I hope you like this! (Requested by @ddamm. I'm not gonna be home this weekend and won't be able to write something for your birthday, so I wrote this for you as an early birthday present!)

➳༻❀✿❀༺➳

“Where are ya takin' me?”

“I can't tell you that. It's a surprise, Daryl.”

“Y'know I hate surprises.”

“This one you'll like, I promise. Now shut up and just follow me.”

Daryl rolled his eyes at you, a small, affectionate smile annoyingly tugging at the corners of his lips. He walked with his hands tucked into his jean pockets, carefully stepping over any logs and big rocks in his path. You were walking slightly ahead of him, a skip in your step as you lead him somewhere—to his supposed surprise or his death, he wasn't sure.

“Ya sure ya didn't jus' bring me out here to kill me?” Daryl questioned playfully, chuckling at the glare you threw his way over your shoulder. “Jus' askin', sunshine. No need to get mad. S'a valid question. Most'a those murder books ya read start in the woods, so m'jus' curious if yer takin' a page outta those characters' books.”

You looked at him over your shoulder. “Believe me, if I wanted to kill you, I wouldn't do it in the most common, boring way. I'm more creative than that.”

Daryl raised his eyebrows at you. “Should I be scared?”

“No, of course not!” you laughed and shook your head, reaching over to grab his wrist. You tugged him along behind you, taking off into a steady run.

Daryl stumbled over his feet for a moment before laughing, quickening his pace to keep up with you. “Jeez, girl! Ya dun' have to rip my damn arm off.”

You giggled. “Sorry, I was excited,” you apologized, stopping in your tracks. You turned to Daryl when he stopped next to you, releasing your grip on his arm. “We're here. Happy birthday, Dar.”

Daryl looked ahead and was surprised to be met with a small, intimate setting—a picnic basket resting on top of a blanket. You had really gone above and beyond, Daryl thought I'm surprise, trying to ignore the odd feeling of warmth that spread through his body when he looked back at you and saw an excited smile on your face.

“You said no parties, so I thought we could have a little picnic instead, just the two of us,” you explained, taking Daryl's hand in yours and leading him over to the blanket. You motioned for him to sit down, following suite and getting comfortable on the blanket you had swiped from your mom's closet.

Daryl eyed everything around him curiously. The two of you were in a part of the forest he wasn't familiar with. It was rather surprising, considering he spent most of his time either at your trailer or in the forest, so seeing that you were able to locate a spot he didn't know was rather impressive.

The movement of your hand towards the picnic basket instantly peaked his interest. He watched as you pulled out an old portable CD player that your mom had gotten you a year prior, settling it onto the blanket and fiddling with a few buttons before pressing the play button.

Daryl's eyes widened when the melody to Ozzy Osbourne's “Crazy Train” flooded the relatively quiet air. His eyes met yours and he let out a shocked noise. “Where'd ya get an Ozzy CD?”

You shrugged nonchalantly, leaning back on the palms of your hands. “Mr Jones owed my mom a favour. She finally called it in and borrowed a bunch of music for us for this.”

“Ya got other artists?”

“Yeah,” you nodded. “Guns 'n Roses, Dio, Led Zeppelin, Metallica, Queen—”

“Ya got Queen?” Daryl questioned in amusement. “Ya know I dun' listen to 'em.”

“And you know that I don't believe that,” you countered, sending him a teasing smirk. “I've seen you quietly sing along when I play Queen in my room. There's no hiding the truth from me, Daryl.”

“Nah, yer only seein' things. Gotta get yer eyes checked out or somethin',” Daryl replied defensively, crossing his arms over his chest in mock annoyance.

You rolled your eyes and sat upright, reaching into the picnic basket to grab a sandwich to hand to Daryl. “Whatever you say, birthday boy.”

Daryl accepted the sandwich and took a bite from it, humming in approval at the taste. “Taste's real fuckin' good. Thanks.”

“Only the best on your birthday,” you mused, reaching into the basket to grab your own sandwich. “You deserve it. And as long as you have me around, we'll always celebrate it.”

Daryl gave you a small smile, taking another bite from his sandwich to avoid saying something that could potentially ruin the moment. As he looked at you, he couldn't help but admire you. From the beautiful colour of your eyes to the way your lips curved when you smiled, to the outfit you were wearing that day that hugged you in all the right ways. Everything about you in that particular moment was perfect, and Daryl found himself very confused at the feeling that entered his body. There was a strange knotting in his stomach when you met his eyes, and he froze at the weird sensation.

Thankfully, you started talking about some band you had discovered that snapped him from his thoughts, and Daryl pushed the strange feelings down. He wouldn't ruin a perfect moment with his best friend because of some stupid sickness he was getting. He would worry about his health later. For now, he would appreciate your company on a day that he rarely celebrated anymore.

➳༻❀✿❀༺➳

“Stay right here. I'll be right back.”

Daryl looked up at you in confusion when you got up from the blanket, the Lynard Skynyrd song that was playing in the background forgotten for the time being. “Wha' do ya mean? Where are ya goin'?”

“Just wait here. I need to go grab something I put here earlier,” you explained, turning on your heel and walking off.

“Ya sure ya ain't jus' gon' get yer gun to shoot me? I knew ya were plannin' on killin' me.”

“Very funny, Dixon.”

Daryl chuckled and shook his head, watching your retreating figure in wonder. He leaned back on the palms of his hands, humming along to the song playing. He looked around at the wildlife that looked even more beautiful in the light of the setting sun, content for the first time in a while. The day had been uneventful; he had spent most of the morning and early afternoon in your trailer watching movies while you were busy setting up the surprise for him, then he had a calm picnic with you, swapping jokes and stories, and after that, he would go back to your trailer for the night.

Daryl felt calm, and it was all because of you. All because you refused to let him spend yet another birthday on his own, cooped away in his room.

The rustling of the leaves alerted him to your presence. He looked up at you, instantly noticing the box in your hands.

“Wha's tha'?”

You sat back down on the blanket and extended the box to him, giggling when Daryl only eyed the box in suspicion instead of taking it. “Daryl, it's just a box. It can't hurt you.”

“Las' time someone handed me a wrapped box, I found a bunch'a spiders inside tha' crawled all over me,” Daryl told you, still refusing to take the box.

You shook your head and laughed lightly. “Let me guess, Merle?” When Daryl simply nodded, you continued. “I promise there aren't any bad surprises in here. Only a good one, I hope.”

Daryl hesitantly took the object from you and lowered it onto his lap, slowly starting to peel the wrapping paper away. Once the simple brown box underneath was revealed, he looked up to you, but was only met with an encouraging smile. He opened the box at a snail's pace, but once the object inside was revealed through the small opening, Daryl practically ripped the rest of the box open.

Daryl carefully picked up the object, inspecting it carefully as his eyes widened in surprise. He looked over at you again, a shocked smile on his face. “A Walkman?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, a smile on your face at his obvious excitement that your best friend failed to hide. “I know you've wanted one for a while now, so I spared up some money to buy one for you. It's not new because I didn't have seventy bucks to buy a brand new one, but it works and it's not all banged up. I made you a tape as well. It's already in there.”

Daryl looked surprised. Unwillingly, a few tears started to well up in his eyes, but he quickly wiped them away. There was no need for tears in a moment like that. He sent you a small, unsure smile, feeling that same strange feeling from earlier creeping up on him again.

“Thank you,” Daryl whispered, moving the Walkman around in his hands. “This is the best birthday I've ever had. S'jus'... Ya gave me somethin' I've been wantin' fer so long, even though ya didn't have to. Yer amazin'.”

Not realizing the true, deeper meaning behind his words, you leaned forward and hugged Daryl tightly, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. “Anything for you, Dar. You know that.”

Daryl hugged you back tightly, lowering his head to rest on your shoulder. Daryl's feelings hit him with the force of a hundred freight trains—he was falling for you. He was falling for his best friend, and he didn't even realize it until that moment. The only reason he realized it was because of the gift you gave him. And it wasn't the picnic or the snacks or even the Walkman. No, it was something much deeper than that, something much more valuable to Daryl than anything else in the world.

You gave him someone he could trust. You gave him someone he could go to with his problems, someone who never judged him or belittled him for feeling emotional. You gave him someone he could love without the fear of being disappointed, someone he knew would be there for him.

You gave him you, and that was more than enough for him.

©dixons-sunshine 2024. I do not give permission for my works to be copied, modified, adapted or translated to any other site or platform without evidence of my given consent.

[cher-rei]

love song ♬— chapter 5 [ J.M ]

pairing: jamal musiala x fem!oc

summary [please read]

genre(s): strangers to lovers, fluff, angst and sports romance [love song playlist]

[w.c: 3k] masterlist

notes: cutie piesss. that's what they are. omw and the next chapter is gonna he super domestic too shut uppp

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“wow, you're all decked out, spider-nerd,” aaliyah said and turned to look at noelle as she entered the living room, looking as if she was about to head to comicon.

with a proud smile, noellle showed off her spiderman zip up hoodie, a vintage blue and red spiderman t-shirt which she definitely thrifted and a pair of washed denim jeans. to a stranger it would seem that she'd been preparing for this moment her entire life.

which wasn't technically true. she didn't flinch at aaliyah's “spider-nerd” nickname, not when she saw it as a compliment, an accomplishment.

when sophia walked in she didn't even bat an eye, simply patting noelle's shoulders before sitting down on the sofa. “this isn't even bad. when we still lived in london, there was a day that she skipped school because the cinema was doing a rerun of the amazing spiderman. all three movies.”

the look of shock on aaliyah's face was comical, a scoff of disbelief leaving her mouth while noelle simply shrugged. “noelle braun, you start shaking when you accidentally jump a red light.”

she didn't fight however, and held her chin up. “I have no regrets,” the last thing she said before sliding away on her socks, leaving her friends to laugh as they finished up getting ready.

when they got to the cinema, the boys were already there and occupied with their own conversation. but soon the attention was on them, calls of approval from florian and kai rang through the air at noelle's outfit.

“you're seriously committing to this,” florian commented, impressed with her dedication to a simple movie.

a smile of pride tugged at her lips as she gave everyone a twirl to show off her full outfit. “I gotta represent.”

as they made their way over to get their snacks the conversation continued, this time the highlight happened to be the red light that noelle jumped in fear of being late (they were 30 minutes early). she couldn't catch a break, just when aaliyah mentioned that she wasn't a fan of breaking street rules.

“hey,” she put her up her hands in defence. “one little red light never killed anyone. the road was empty.”

kai raised an eyebrow at her excuse. “one little red light? you're like a racing prodigy— of questionable life choices.”

the jab didn't phase her, neither did their banter. noelle had known kai just as long as she'd known sophia, their sibling like relationship always bringing a smile to his girlfriend's face. “at least I'm consistent. I'm just living life on the edge.”

“the edge being the line between green and red?”

the group erupted into laughter, their banter filling the cinema lobby but noelle just shrugged. eventually aaliyah intervened, ready to defend her friend. “hey, no teasing noelle. she's just embracing her inner speed demon.”

“more like inner speed bump,” florian deadpanned, earning a look from noelle and before anything could happen sophia pushed them further into the line so that they could finally order their snacks.

everyone got their combos as per normal but aaliyah made sure to clarify that noelle didn't want popcorn, which raised some confusion in jamal who had been silent for a bit, still upset that this was a group activity.

he raised an eyebrow. “how can you not like popcorn?”

the question made her pout. “just not my thing.”

from ahead of them florian scoffed, not too fond of the idea of not eating popcorn

while watching a movie. “that’s like watching spiderman without the webs.”

the younger girl rolled her eyes. “I'll survive.”

the vip movie theater was surprisingly empty, causing jamal to internally jump up in triumph. this was exactly what he wanted. the seats were separated, two recliners and a table with nearly a metre of space between the others.

nothing was said as they stepped in besides the silent look of significance that was shared between the three footballers, followed by nods.

they stalled finding their seats, waiting until noelle sat down, which took longer than expected because she was awkwardly hopping in between the open spaces and then looking at the screen before moving on to the next row.

“what are you doing?” jamal asked in genuine confusion, his brows furrowing.

“I'm finding the perfect spot. I need to sit somewhere where I won't have to strain my neck or my eyes… here!” she exclaimed, settling into her chosen seat.

with that, the rest of the group found their seats with jamal next to noelle just as planned. “spider-nerd needs optimal viewing conditions,” kai teased, earning a playful shove on the arm from his girlfriend.

she was strange. that was jamal's initial thought— funny in her own way. she did things a certain way, had certain preferences that differed from most but it made her attractive. and what he learnt throughout the movie was that she was a lot geekier than he originally thought.

she spoke throughout the movie— her hushed whispers commenting on certain scenes and details that he didn't catch. she even took the liberty of explaining the base of the spiderman lore to him.

Iit got to the point where he would ask questions just to have her explain it to him. she would turn in her seat to look at him, her attention occasionally directing back to the big screen while her friends whisper-yelled at her to be quiet.

“the spider-verse is collapsing,” she muttered, more to herself. “the spider-totems, the web of life… it's all connected.”

jamal leaned in, his face inches from noelle but she didn't seem to care in that moment. “what's happening?” (he knew exactly what was happening)

noelle's explanation poured out in a rush, her excitement filled eyes glued to the screen. “the spider-totems are destabilising the spider-verse. each spider-person has a unique frequency, and when they intersect, it creates a rift.”

there were so many things running through jamal's mind at that moment. so many things that he couldn't say out loud for so many different reasons. he was entranced to say the least, eyes unintentionally dropping to her lips as she spoke. of course, he had to swallow those words and keep the interaction as pg as possible.

he cleared his throat, sinking further into his seat. “you're like a spider-verse encyclopaedia.”

noelle smiled at the compliment, waving him off. it was quiet for a moment again until her hand flew to grab jamal's hand to gain his attention— her excitement blocking out her consciousness. “oh, look.”

he didn't look because what the hell was stopping him from intertwining there fingers??

“thats’s the web of life. it's the interconnected web of spider-people across dimensions. each strand represents a life, and when one breaks, the entire web unravels–”

she was interuppted by aaliyah shushing her from the row in front of them, but jamal silenced her with a gestare, the girl's lips parting in shock at the audacity. “let her finish,” he mouthed, and she turned back to the front.

from the row in front, florian nudged his girlfriend who was plotting jamal's murder. “jamal’s got that ‘I'm-listening-to-you-and-only-you’ face.”

aaliyah scoffed in amusement and took another look at the two behind them, having a ball of a time. “I give them five minutes before discussing the merits of spiderman's web shooters.”

from in front of them sophia snickered, taking the liberty to get up and join them on the floor to enter the conversation with kai flowing after her. “we should start a betting pool— how long before he asks noelle about the difference between dc and marvel.”

their hushed whispers and laughter continued as they discussed the situation, looking back at the two every so often but they were stuck in the same position— with jamal nodding along to whatever noelle was saying. it was all jokes from there but aaliyah felt off.

she knew noelle, and just a few days ago she wasn't too happy about what happened at the training session. “guys, can I ask you something?” she asked, her voice just above a whisper.

the three of them nodded, more than ready to conspire. “noelle's been off lately. she's been doing really well with him, but… something feels off.”

kai frowned. “what do you mean?”

“she's a naturally guarded person, we know this but she's realising that she's becoming more comfortable and friendly with jamal.”

florian pulled a face at her statement. he understood what she meant about being guarded, it took noelle a week after meeting florian to tell him her last name. an entire week for something that wasn't even important.

the group went on to discuss the possibility of her pulling away from jamal and doing a full 180. sophia looked back at the two of them again, her laugh stifled as she watched them go through some sort of handshake, noelle stopping jamal and asking him to try again between her laughter.

“man, she's got this look in her eyes when she talks. it's like her face lights up.”

“oh boy, here we go again,” kai sighed in irritation as they entered the camp, his head pounding with the sound of jamal’s voice talking about noelle.

the entire car ride back, it's all that he talked about. he kept on talking about “special” she was, but kai and florian couldn't back him up. they've known her for years, and have seen sides of noelle that haunted them— how groggy and mean she could be when she was tired and having caffeine withdrawal, and how easy it was for her to zone out during conversations.

that was just the surface of it. noelle was what they called a tough cookie. she had her moods, she needed reassurance and comfort because of how often she overthought certain situations. and jamal found her rambling and hard working nature attractive but he never experienced how it could break her.

she was like a volcano. with emotions that shifted like the wind. one moment, she'd be effervescent, her eyes sparkling with passion and the next she'd be disconnected and lost in thought.

despite her tough exterior, she was vulnerable and guarded. even if it didn't seem like that right now.

no.elle

liked by sophiaamealia and 213 332 others

no.elle i dig the whole "spider-nerd' thing 🕷

view all comments below

liyah babe that lighting white washed you so bad 😭

→ no.elle no shut up, I tried to fix it!!

spamjam._. need the link to that hoodie yesterday

→ no.elle of courseee xx how's the euro tour going so far?

→ spamjam._. I can't say any of the words that I want to say here 😃

→ no.elle well that's just great! (manifesting that germany plays england so that we can meet up)

→ spamjam._. 🕯🕯🕯

it was about 20 minutes into the first half of the germany and denmark match in dortmund and barely anything had happened apart from the expansion of the darker clouds in the sky, and the droplets that noelle chose to ignore. the wind had started to pick up as well, but there was nothing more to do than to endure it.

eventually, the rain worsened and it started pouring. thunder clapped in the distance, the bright strike of lighting hitting only seconds before. sophia jumped up at the sound and reached for noelle's free hand, a giggle leaving her lips at the situation.

“petition to go home?” she asked jokingly and aaliyah lightly shoved her, glad to see that she was slowly regaining her colour.

another clap of thunder sounded, and the referee's whistle as well which earned mixed reactions from the crowd. apparently they were checking to see if an intermission was necessary due to the weather interference.

a decision wasn't even made yet but the storm had worsened, the players having no choice but to stay on the pitch, drenched. water was pouring from the gutters, the supporters taking the liberty to enjoy the atmosphere and make the most of it.

“up, up, up,” aaliyah hurriedly said, indicating that they were going to head to the family booth so that they could dry off. the game was going to be suspended until further notice, which was unfortunate because it was 10 minutes before half time.

the three girls looked up at the sky for another moment, their jaws dropping sight of the strikes of lighting striking through the clouds. noelle couldn't move, it was too captivating. her friends thought the same, their phones out to capture the moment as they stood on top of the stands, nearby the exit.

the pitch was empty, both teams had been sent to their dressing rooms but some had other priorities. noelle was the first to feel a tug at her hand, pulling her backwards into the shelter of the building only to realise that sophia and aaliyah were already gone.

“I'd prefer if you didn't get struck by lighting,” the familiar voice said and when she turned around, jamal was standing in front of her, drenched and out of breath.

noelle's heart skipped a beat as she met jamal’s concerned gaze. his eyes sparkled with amusement, despite the chaos around them.

“thanks for saving me from myself,” she said, out of breath and slightly taken back.

jamal's smile widened, his lips curling upward. “I'm starting to think that you need a permanent bodyguard.”

she playfully rolled her eyes at his comment, following him to the family booth where her friends were warming up. when they entered the booth, sophia and aaliyah were quick to rush to her side, concern etched on their faces.

jamal took a step to the side, watching as aaliyah took noelle by the shoulders. “since when do you let go of my hand in public places?” the apprehension in her tone was amusing, and made noelle stifle a laugh.

“sorry, mum” she replied jokingly with an eye roll. “the lighting was going off like crazy.”

aaliyah rolled her eyes, sophia taking the liberty to thank jamal, who waved her off. “no problem. besides, I couldn't let my favourite psych student get struck by lightning.”

noelle's cheeks flushed, her friends’ confused but curious eyes drifting to her, their smiles mocking her. “you're really milking that, aren't you?”

not long after, kai and florian entered the room with relived sighs to see that sophia and aaliyah were okay. there was still enough time until the game continued, so they spent it chatting and warming up.

most people were familiar post *insert situation* clarity. that gut-wrenching feeling and pit of realisation that settles in after coming down from a high, or just any good feeling. at that moment, while everyone was laughing and comfortable she felt herself drift.

it was an outer body experience.

noelle's gaze drifted away from the laughter-filled room, her mind disconnecting from the warmth and camaraderie. the sounds of her friends' voices faded into a distant hum, like a radio dial tuned to a distant station.

a jolting shock spiked through her body, up her spine and through every nerve, pulling her back down from the suffocating cloud she was on. with a deep breath her eyes blinked to regain awareness of her surroundings— jamal, kai and florian getting up to leave, seeing as they were needed back in the dressing room and aaliyah and sophia laughing.

“please be careful,” sophia's gentle voice sounded and she placed a kiss on kai's cheek. “everytime you slip on the pitch aaliyah and noelle laugh like it's their last day alive.”

her comment alone made aaliyah laugh again, hitting florian on the back as she did so. he tried to walk away, to break free from the torture but she managed to pull him back into a bone breaking hug. “stay dry on the bench, okay?”

although her tone was maternal, it was obvious that it was meant to be backhanded and jab him which it did of course. without another word, kai pulled his friends back into the corridor, his bidding goodbye drowning out florian's cries of protest.

they stayed in the booth for the remainder of the match because the rain outside was not in anyway appealing. the match was slow, yet somewhat electric as usual. germany emerged victorious once again, 2-0 thanks to jamal and kai.

the stadium was ecstatic, their country now into the quarter final with more hope than ever before. and even as noelle stepped onto the soaking pitch with a light drizzle in the air, the supporters didn't care and continued to celebrate underneath the stadium lights.

“ah! you did it!” sophia squealed and leapt into kai's arms with a beaming smile.

noelle pulled a face of disgust at the couple. “ew, can you not do that in front– ah! what the hell flo?!”

“I'm giving you some affection,” the footballer said and tightened his grip on her, a cunning smile on his face as she tried to fight him off.

noelle scoffed at the answer, knowing that he just wanted to wet her clothes since he was already soaked. she resorted to jabbing him in defence but he was stubborn, violently swaying their bodies to the side.

“liyah!” she called out in desperation. “he won't let go! flo I swear to god I will bite you.”

aaliyah didn't bat an eye at the situation and simply waved the two off and carried on with her conversation with a few of the other family members on the pitch. noelle could practically feel the water seeping in through her jersey, a desperate fight for comfort not reigning.

“I'm just sharing my love with you,” florian said with a smile, his mocking tone making noelle whine as she continued to struggle.

“I don't want your love,” she shot back, a slight laugh escaping her lips and before she could fight anymore, his grip loosened on her.

with sly grin and the sight of his friend walking up to them after talking to their coach, florian took hold of noelle's arm. “you're right, you don't want my love.” and with one harsh shove, “you want jamal's.” she landed on jamal's chest.

noelle stumbled, her eyes shut at the impact. florian’s mischievous grin lingered in the background, clearly please with himself as he skipped over to his girlfriend.

“hi, to you to?” jamal joked with a lighthearted chuckle, his hands draped around her shoulders to hold her in place.

she mentally cursed herself and tried not to focus on the proximity or the sound of her heart violently pounding in her ears. she let out an apologetic sigh, not having the courage to look up at him.

“sorry for the tackle.” she rolled her eyes. “your friend's a walking migraine.”

jamal's chuckle deepened, his cheeks a flush of dusty pink that he ignored very well. his demeanour was calm and to any other person it would look like he didn't think much of the situation. “he's just trying to spread the love… and chaos on occasion.”

noelle stifled a laugh, finally craning her neck slightly to look up at jamal. “I think he enjoys watching me suffer more than kai.”

there was silence for a beat until her eyes flickered with genuine fear and dread. “you're not going to shove me at anyone else, right?”

a hearty laugh vibrated through his chest and she could feel it so close to her own. this was undeniably the closest she's ever gotten to man. the feeling was strange but… nice? it was comforting, lighthearted, to be this close to him and still have a conversation.

jamal shook his head and pretended to think for a moment, leaving noelle to worry slightly and prepare to be tossed back to florian. “no, actually I think I'll keep you here.” he relaxed his grip around her shoulders. “you're really warm.”

noelle's heart skipped a beat. her lips parting in shock as her smile faltered for a moment, their gazes locked. “you're kidding. you can't even handle a little rain?”

a mock gasp left his mouth. “I can handle rain. I just prefer warm, dry women.”

her eyebrows shot up in shock, her body relaxing against his. “warm, dry women?” she repeated. “that's your type?”

“yeah. it's a niche market.”

as they stood together, the stadium's vibrant atmosphere faded into the background, leaving only the two of them, suspended in a bubble of intimacy. noelle's heart still skipped a beat from jamal's words, her lips parted in surprise. his gaze held hers, sparkling with mischief and warmth.

the chill of the rainy evening dissipated, replaced by the gentle heat radiating from his body. she felt her tension melt away, her shoulders relaxing into his grasp.

this proximity was unfamiliar, yet strangely comforting. noelle's experiences with men were limited to kai and florian's playful teasing, but jamal's gentle, lighthearted manner put her at ease.

as they stood there, the sounds of celebration and laughter swirled around them, but noelle's focus remained on him. his eyes crinkled at the corners, his smile softening.

the stadium lights cast a golden glow on his features, accentuating the sharp lines of his face. noelle's gaze drifted to his lips, her pulse quickening.

she felt herself drifting into uncharted territory, the connection between them growing stronger with each passing moment. her instincts whispered warnings, but her heart overrode them, savoring the warmth and closeness.

jamal's hands, still draped around her shoulders, seemed to anchor her to reality. his touch sent shivers down her spine, yet she felt grounded, protected.

the world around them blurred, leaving only the gentle pressure of his hands, the warmth of his body, and the captivating sparkle in his eyes.

noelle's thoughts whirled, struggling to keep pace with her emotions. she couldn't deny the connection between them, the sense of belonging that settled within her.

as the moments ticked by, noelle realized she didn't want to pull away. for the first time, she felt like she was exactly where she was meant to be.

the uncertainty was exhilarating, the thrill of the unknown coursing through her veins like adrenaline. noelle's heart soared, her senses heightened, as she let herself drift deeper.

[richincolor]

The Hysterical Girls of St. Bernadette's by Hanna Alkaf Salaam Reads/ Simon & Schuster Books for Young Readers

Publisher Summary: An all-girls school is struck with mysterious cases of screaming hysteria in this chilling dark academia thriller haunted by a deeply buried history clawing to the light.

For over a hundred years, girls have fought to attend St. Bernadette’s, with its reputation for shaping only the best and brightest young women.

Unfortunately, there is also the screaming.

When a student begins to scream in the middle of class, a chain reaction starts that impacts the entire school. By the end of the day, seventeen girls are affected—along with St. Bernadette’s stellar reputation.

Khadijah’s got her own scars to tend to, and watching her friends succumb to hysteria only rips apart wounds she’d rather keep closed. But when her sister falls to the screams, Khad knows she’s the only one who can save her. Rachel has always been far too occupied trying to reconcile her overbearing mother’s expectations with her own secret ambitions to pay attention to school antics. But just as Rachel finds her voice, it turns into screams.

Together, the two girls find themselves digging deeper into the school’s dark history, hunting for the truth. Little do they know that a specter lurks in the darkness, watching, waiting, and hungry for its next victim…

Note from author -- "It includes discussions and descriptions of sexual assault, trauma and PTSD. If this is too much for you right now, please set this book down and come back to it when you can. There is no shame in protecting your scars." 

My Thoughts: Even before beginning, my worries went down a bit after reading the note from the author. I am not a person who reads horror as a general rule, but for some reason knowing what was coming, helped prepare me and also let me know that the author had thought ahead to care for the readers. This made me more willing to dive in even though scary books are not what I usually grab first. 

There are definitely creepy and rather horrifying moments within the pages of this book, but it was also incredibly intriguing. It has Salem witch trial vibes with what seems like random hysteria and it's not something easily explained. When there is so much that is unknowable, there is a lot of room for imaginations to run rampant. 

The author shares the story through two perspectives and that choice helps readers see everything unfolding from very different contexts. And there are many layers to what is happening so it is good to have more than one way to pick up the clues that are scattered here and there. 

Like the characters, readers are likely to wonder if this is all created or manifested due to humans and their own issues or whether there may be some monsters lurking about. The answer is a complex one that I will obviously not reveal, but the many moments of wondering kept me flipping the pages rapidly. 

Beyond the actual screaming, there are questions or ponderings about how girls are perceived, how they are meant to act, who listens to them and when and how they use their voices. There's a lot going on beyond the ghost/monster portion of the story though there is plenty of that for those readers who love that aspect.

My Recommendation: Get it as soon as possible. Do not skip it unless it would be too much right now. This would be a great Halloween read, but could work anytime really. It's a unique story that raises many questions and for me the ending was particularly satisfying. This was one of my favorite books of the year.

Pages: 352 Review copy: ARC via publisher & library copy Availability: On shelves now

Extra: Brief talk on mass hysteria - Hanna Alkaf on TikTok

[darius-dues]

Family Ties One-Shot Finale

Previous Readings: Family Ties One-Shot 2023, Family Ties One-Shot 2024 Takes Place: Late April 2025 Summary: Darius returns to the Boiling Isles and surprises his family

“Surprise, surprise, surprise!”

Levy’s sing-song voice cut over the wildlife lining the path they were walking on where they took the lead, humming and skipping along. Directly behind was Keython, keeping close to his beloved nibling, with siblings Stellana and Darius in the back. The former looked particularly perturbed as her eyes scanned the foliage, as if something might jump out at any moment. They were on the outskirts of Bonesborough, where development was less frequent and the land descended back towards demon magic.

“You know I don’t really like surprises,” she muttered, folding her arms and cutting a glance at her brother. “Where are we going anyway?”

“Do you not like the concept of surprises or do you just not understand them?” Darius retorted back with a smirk that made his sister seethe. 

“Woah!” Levy called from up ahead as they broke through the clearing, revealing a large, two story manor centered in the foliage. It had dark paneling on the outside and many windows with shutters closed over them. A steep, gabled roof rose above the treetops with a singular round window looking down on them like an omniscient eye. Despite its remote location, it looked well taken care of, with clean walls and trimmed hedges.

“What is this?” His sister asked skeptically as they caught up with the rest of the family.

“It’s the home of a former Belos loyalist who has since fled the Isles. They were a gravekeeper that provided the Emperor with many of the bodies he used for his necromantic army,” Darius explained. With a wave of his hand, an abomination golem formed next to the front door, easily opening it for them. Levy grinned and immediately bolted inside.

“Levy, careful!” Stella called but the youngest Deamonne sibling waved her concern away.

“No worries, I’m keeping an eye on them,” Keython reassured as he followed them inside, eyes shining with his own curiosity. The other two weren’t far behind, entering an expansive foyer that split off into many different rooms, along with a winding staircase up to the second floor. The walls were adorned with tapestries and other strange phenomena displayed along tables and shelves. The room basked in a faint glow of magical lights that had already been lit before they entered, as if waiting for their arrival.

“Pretty big house for a gravekeeper,” Stella muttered to herself, tightening her folded arms together as if a chill came over her. She kept a steady gaze on her child, who was running back and forth taking in all the oddities.

“The Emperor greatly admired their services,” Darius replied flatly, though he did not look at everything with the same suspicion and caution as his sister. In fact, he watched everything and everyone quite fondly, waving his hand to create several more golems that shambled into the other rooms to make unseen preparations. Stella noticed this, her eyes cutting from the abominations back to her brother.

“So, what is this? Are you giving us some kind of historical tour?”

Darius’s lips pursed together as he pondered how to answer that question. He had wanted to make a grand gesture of the whole thing, but he might get his head chewed off if he waited too long for the big reveal.

“Well,” he began, rolling his wrist with a knowing smile. “I was actually hoping to give you all a tour of our new home.”

Everyone in the room stopped, snapping in his direction. Keython was the first to speak.

“Woah, really?” He asked in surprise, though not unpleasantly. Levy leaped up onto their Uncle Key’s back, gripping his shoulder and digging their feet into his back to get a better look at Darius. Their eyes were absolutely sparkling.

“We’re going to live here?!” They shouted excitedly.

“No, we’re not!” Stella cut in, causing everyone to turn to her instead. Darius’s eyes widened in shock while Stella cast him a glare. “You didn’t even talk to us first!”

Oh, so he was going to get his head chewed off either way. Great to know.

Levy hopped off their Uncle, going to approach their mother instead. “What? No way, there’s no way we can go back to that crummy little apartment if we can live here!” They whined, but were stopped in their tracks as Stella put out a hand.

“I’m not discussing this with you right now. I need to talk to your Uncle,” she growled, though this time Darius met her glare with one of his own. Sensing the growing tension between his siblings, Keython stepped forward and took Levy’s hand.

“Hooooow about we go take a look around at the rest of the house? Come on, the upstairs looks really cool!” He offered with an attempted levity that his nibling did not take to. They instead cast their own glare at their mother, a roiling triad of dangerous emotions and resentment that stained the Deamonne family tree right to its roots. Still, Keython was able to pull his nibling along, ultimately wanting to get Levy out of the picture.

It was only when they were out of earshot that Darius spoke up, though his voice was quiet.

“I can’t believe you’re upset with me about this.”

“I can’t believe you would undermine me in front of my own child!” Stella hissed.

“I’m giving you a free house!” Darius shot back.

“You’re flaunting your wealth to make it so we owe you! I know exactly what this is. You so benevolently present this to us in front of Levy so that I would be the bad guy if I said no. I swear, you are exactly like our parents, always trying to hold something over us so that we feel indebted to you.”

The ooze on Darius’s prosthetic arm quivered at her jab and the hair on the back of his neck stood on end. “That isn’t what this is!”

“Isn’t it? After all this time, you haven’t changed a bit. You still think you’re better than us!”

“I don’t–” Darius began, his voice raising in volume. This is always how it went with the Deamonnes. Insults would turn into accusations would turn into full blow-out arguments would turn into one or both parties becoming more isolated. By the end of this, Darius would return to his apartment by himself and the rest of his family would return to theirs, everyone steeped in more resentment than ever before.

He couldn’t let that happen. As much as he wanted to scream at his sister, to tell her she was wrong and point out her own shortcomings in this situation, he didn’t. Instead, he inhaled sharply and exhaled shortly, his muscles releasing their tension in defeat.

“You want to know what this is?” He asked, though it was less with venom and more with exhaustion. 

Stella’s defensive body language did not soften, hands poised on her hips and head tilted, ready to deal her next blow. “I’m sure you’ll enlighten me.”

Darius’s jaw tightened and he had to hold back every urge to snap back at her. He instead channeled that frustration down his limbs, letting his hands clench into tight balls to keep the acid on his tongue steady. There, it dissolved, opening the way for something softer.

“This is me…trying not to be alone anymore.” He let that admittance hang in the air between them. His sister didn’t move, though her brow furrowed with some mixture of confusion and suspicion. Darius continued, “Growing up, Ma and Pa always touted the importance of family. Family above everything. It didn’t matter who you wanted to be or what you wanted to do, if it went against the family, it was wrong. I hated that. I rejected it and left so that I could become the person I needed to be. And after that, I didn’t allow myself to rely on anybody. I had a man, a mentor, who took me in, but I operated under the assumption that because he was doing something nice for me, I owed him. That’s what our parents taught us. That you owe other people, just for your existence. So not only did I pay him back at every opportunity I could, but I moved out as soon as I was able. And ever since then, I have lived alone.”

Stella’s eyes never left him, though she shifted her weight, moving her arms to fold together once more. Her expression was inscrutable. Darius continued.

“He didn’t want me to move out. He told me I could stay as long as I liked, and that I could come back at any time. But I didn’t want to be in his debt. And you know what that independence got me? Nothing at all. Less than a decade later, my mentor was killed, and I would never stop thinking about the time I lost with him because of my own stubborn understanding of how the world supposedly worked. Then I continued to live alone after that, for another fifteen years.”

Darius’s chest ached speaking of Caleb, of finally admitting to his death as it happened, without the excuses or possibility of another ending. That was the reality, one he was still grappling with. He swallowed the lump that was beginning to form in his throat and forged ahead.

“I always thought our parents were wrong about everything. That I knew better than them. And while I don’t regret the decisions I’ve made and the life that I’ve lived, I do regret rejecting all of their philosophy. Because they were right that family is important. You and Key have always known that, which is why you stuck together through it all. For me, I actually had to learn that, through spending years without it. I thought this,” he said, gesturing around the foyer, “Could be me righting some of those wrongs. For all the time I spent away from the family, I gained wealth and power that I thought I could use to give back. I want to help give you a home you deserve, I want to help you open a shop if that’s what you want to do, and foster Levy’s sorcery talent, and– whatever the Titan Key wants to do with himself–” That managed to draw a ghost of a smirk from his sister, who let her arms drop.

“--but you’re right, I should have said something first. If this isn’t what you want, I understand. I will still live here, as it has the space I need to house Hunter when he returns to the Isles, and to allow visits from my friends, and maybe someday I’ll take in young sorcerers in need of support the same way my mentor did. In the end, I’ll be alright. But…I don’t want to make the same mistakes I have in the past. I’ve already lost so much time with you all. And I don’t want to hold onto that after–” The words caught in his throat and he swallowed them down again. “...Any of us are gone.”

A silence fell over them both as Darius let his words hang in the air. He watched his sister, who eventually turned her gaze away, looking around the foyer with that inscrutable expression. Finally, she sighed, her own exhaustion apparent. “You always have a big damn speech for everything, don’t you?”

Darius smirked small. “Language.”

She returned the smile. “Shut the fuck up.”

Another blanket of silence draped over them. The only sound Darius could hear was his heart pounding in his chest, though he felt like he was holding it in his hands, outstretched to her as he lay himself bare in front of her. He braced himself for whatever was to come.

“It’s pretty far away from Bonesborough. Levy wouldn’t be able to walk to Hexside anymore,” she said. It took Darius a second to realize what she was saying, blinking in surprise before offering.

“I would fly them to school on my way to work.”

Stella nodded once and looked back at the house. “And you’re sure there are no dead bodies on the property?”

“The guy didn’t bring his work home, as far as I could tell. I’ve already gotten rid of anything that might be dangerous,” Darius reassured. Stella nodded once more, and then again, before giving a constant slow nod.

“...Yeah, alright.”

“Alright?” Darius repeated tentatively.

“I mean, I still have to confirm with Key and Levy, but I’m pretty sure I was the only naysayer here. So. Yeah. Levy’s right, it is way better than our crummy apartment.”

Darius’s heart, once held in his hands, instead swelled inside him once more. He started forward to close the distance between them, which had Stella tensing up again as she looked to him in confusion.

“Stel, I know I haven’t said it. It’s not something we ever said to each other in that house. But we’re not there anymore and neither one of us are the people we used to be. Despite all that though…you’re always going to be my little sister, and I’m eternally grateful that you’ve let me be your big brother. I love you.”

Stella jerked back slightly at the words, foreign to her. Darius didn’t know if his siblings grew to be able to use that kind of language that had been unspoken in the house they were raised. Judging from her reaction, he wasn’t sure that was the case. He wondered, in that moment, if that was the kind of language she even felt comfortable using in front of her own child.

Perhaps it wasn’t. It wasn’t the Deamonne way after all.

But it could be.

He watched her expression meld from confusion, to a flash of anger, before her eyes began to well up with tears all too familiar to Darius. Taking a deep breath, he stepped forward to wrap his arms around her, touch given on his own terms. At first she didn’t return it. But with a sniffle and a wail, she flung her arms around him, sobbing into the cloak draped over his shoulder. Suddenly they were both children again, with young Stella leaning on her big sister for support. So much had changed since then, but Darius believed, with enough work, they could get to that point again. They were already on their way.

He didn’t know how long she cried for. Once the audible sobs died down, she still clung to him for several more minutes, quaking and shivering until she pulled herself together enough to feel comfortable pulling away. Darius merely met her puffy gaze with a knowing smile.

“Feel better?” He asked with a teasing lilt. She scoffed and shoved the shoulder she had just sobbed into, sending a jolt of pain that he didn’t want to admit to. Darius merely covered it up with a laugh. “You know, I could give you a tour of the rest of the house. I promise it is actually rather spectacular.”

She sniffled once more and reached up to wipe her face. “Oh, I bet. Nothing less than the best for you.”

“Uhm–” A voice echoed throughout the foyer and both the siblings turned around to see Keython and Levy at the top of the stairs. “We good down here?” He called out cautiously.

Darius smiled, brushing his cloak behind him as he posed with confidence. “Yes. We’re good.”

The remaining Deamonnes descended down the stairs, with Uncle Key leading the way. Levy lingered behind, watching their mother warily as if bracing for their own lecture. Keython’s expression twisted with concern when he got close enough to see his sister’s face.

“You okay?” He asked, eyebrows dipping in worry.

“Yeah,” she said, wiping her face some more as if to try and hide it. “I’m fine. Darius and I talked it over. Hugged it out and everything.”

“What?” Key’s eyes turned wide and wet before he pouted. “You guys hugged without me??”

Darius couldn’t help but laugh. “I know, a rarity for myself. But perhaps I could manage to spare one mo– GGH!” He had already begun opening his arms when Keython swooped in to tackle his brother into a tight hug that lifted him off the ground. Stella chuckled before looking to her own child, crouching down to meet them at their level.

“Levy,” she began, shifting a bit uncomfortably before conceding, “I’m sorry for snapping at you earlier. The whole thing was very surprising, but that didn’t give me a right to yell. I talked it over with your Uncle Darius, and I think you’re right. It would be better to live here.”

The young child perked up, eyes shining once more. “Really?”

“Really.”

Much like their Uncle, Levy wasted no time throwing themselves at their mother, wrapping their arms around her neck tightly. “Good! Because I’ve already picked out my bedroom.”

The two of them laughed together as Stella returned the hug, holding her child close. For a moment, the Deamonne family was silent as they embraced each other. Then that silence was broken as Levy whispered.

“Uncle Key, is it weird hugging Uncle Darius with his abomination arm?”

Darius chuckled. “Why don’t you find out?” He lifted his prosthetic arm, allowing the ooze to stretch and wriggle into one long tentacle that wrapped around his sister and nibling, pulling them into the hug as well. Levy squealed in delight while Stella balked in disgust, but it wasn’t long before Keython was wrapping his thick tree trunk arms around them as well. For this brief moment, the Deamonne family was whole.

Eventually, the moment would pass. They would all separate and explore their new dwellings. They would make the trips back and forth moving their things in, and they would struggle to navigate the new dynamic of them living altogether. The siblings were used to their ways and Darius was severely out of practice, though his brief stint with Willow had at least taught him how to not be a horrendous housemate. An overly tidy one, and a nag, but not horrendous.

Eventually, somewhere down the line, Hunter would find his place among them. Willow would visit for weekly airings of their favorite shows. Darius would host the Parks for dinner for a change, and even invite Lilith, Raine, and Eberwolf as regular guests. The rooms of the manor would fill out with family, friends, sorcerers, and abominations alike, and there would never be true quiet again.

But for now, the silence was warm and the embrace warmer. Darius was finally home.

[itsgrimeytime]

The Life We Could've Had || Rick Grimes (TWD)

AVAILABLE ON AO3

Based On: 'I Love You So' by The Walters

Summary: Rick knows you're gone, he does. He just keeps seeing you in everything -the distant smell of coffee in the morning, or the sand beneath his toes (when he finds himself on a beach.) And as he tried to scrub what pain he felt out of his head, he wondered just when he could see you again.

TWS: violence, guns, blood, gore, ANGST, death, disassociation, hallucinations, grief themes, main character death, crying, and very vague implications of suicide (just Rick can't do it without you, etc.)

[[A/N: This is very different than all my other works, but I honestly just wanted to write some heavy angst. Like being totally fr, this is Rick grieving you. Not for the faint of heart. I needed to get these emotions out. Thanks for reading!!!]]

Rick hadn't expected it. Maybe that's why he'd become so paranoid now.

It was supposed to be a simple run, in and out, he can't even remember what the trip had been about; what had you gone out to get?

You were just smiling, laughing, teasing him the way that you always did -you two were on the precipice of something new. It was something that you'd been dancing around for as long as you could; no matter what, everything had always been in the way.

They didn't even ask any questions-

He remembers it vividly, watching you skip ahead of a few steps -grinning wide and bright. You were about to say something. You opened your mouth, words right there on your lips. He wasn't worried then about hearing them because he thought you had time. That both of you had time-

The next thing he remembers is the stain of red on your shirt, and your face faltering in its place -your pretty smile gone.

Rick felt like he couldn't breathe, as you crumpled to your knees -gasping and god, there was so much blood. He had a spare thought of how much could be left in you if there was so much here.

His head was spinning, so the sun so bright and distantly, he heard a scream -the same way as the shot, he realized now. But he couldn't think like then, his mind solely focused on falling to his knees beside you. Blinking what felt like shock out of his mind, he was by your side -desperately pushing on your chest, it was bleeding through his hands.

"Y/N, Y/N," he was breathless, trying to turn your face to his -to meet your eyes, "-can you hear me?"

When you looked at him, your face was paler than it once was and there was blood smeared across your mouth -bright red against the skin. You were crying, inhaling like each breath was your last, and fuck, maybe it was-

Rick pushed that thought to the back of his head, ripping off the sleeve of his flannel with practiced ease. Maybe he could wrap it? Just to buy time until-

"Rick," you muttered, and your voice was broken -desperate, hopeless, "-please, don't let me become one of t-them. I'm begging-"

"Stop, don't-" he couldn't help it, his voice cracked -as he wrapped the fabric around the wound, tight, "-don't talk like that."

"Rick, look at me," you soothed, still trying to comfort him even now, "-look at me... please."

He swallowed, tipping his eyes to meet yours after lingering on the torn flannel (the blood was already seeping through), and something in him broke -looking at you. This wasn't supposed to happen, it was just-

"Hey, hey-" you spoke, struggling with every breath -your hands shakily coming to wrap gently around his face, thumbs wiping at the salty trail of tears down his cheeks, "I-I need you to know something, okay?"

"I can't-"

"You can," you encouraged, despite the tears washing at the blood on your face -there you were, hopeful, "-you're R-Rick fucking Gri-imes. You can do anything."

"Not without you," he added, desperate to cherish every last second he could, he placed his hands over yours -blood still staining the palms.

You weren't there really anymore, the color in your face fading and maybe that's why you decided to say it because you felt he needed to know, "-I love you. Always have."

He blinked, and the fog in his head cleared -Daryl was standing in front of him, leaning on the wall with a look in his eye. He knew it, everybody had been looking at him the same way since-

"Get up," he spoke, curt and somehow caring, "-ya gotta eat."

Rick sighed, pinching the top of his nose and smoothing along under his eyes. Trying to wish he'd slept better, maybe. He made a noise in response, Daryl, assuming what it meant, guided him along to some food.

He knew it was bad. He knew he needed to take better care of himself, you wouldn't like it. But still, it felt like he could hardly function. It felt like every bone in his body ached in a way that he could never fix.

Carol was next, smiling in that sad way she always had, and pulling him into a hug. Her tears spilled onto his sleeve, Rick distantly wished he could cry like that -his brain seemed slow to process everything, and sometimes he felt like he was back there. You in his arms, his hands desperate to fix it, blood everywhere, your hand shaking in his-

"Just know we're all here for you," she whispered, sniffling and her voice thick like she was holding back tears, "-okay?"

"Okay," he whispered back, tone barely above silence -he couldn't trust his voice, not now. All he wanted to do was sit and think, even just for a moment, he wanted to see you again.

They wanted him to take a break from farming, Glenn even offered up that he'd fill in until he felt more up to it. Rick refused, distantly hearing the echo of your voice 'it suits you'; he used to catch you staring at him as he worked. Palms covered in dirt and shirt even worse with sweat dripping down his skin, he truly didn't get what you liked about it. Didn't mean he was gonna stop.

That was how he got out here in the basting sun, sifting through some dirt to make more spots for planting. It was always nice, doing something he felt was so normal when he felt like everything around him wasn't.

And you helped with that too. Got him involved in simple things, like cooking, or enjoying the flowers as they bloomed. It brought him to an easier world, one he wished he could've had longer.

He leaned on his shovel, then, pushed back the tears -he didn't have time to cry. He never would, this world wasn't made for time.

"I shoulda said something earlier," he cursed to himself, swinging on the shovel as his hair drifted down. He wasn't sure he could ever really forgive himself for not.

'Always have,' it echoed around in his head, bouncing along. Rick needed to know. How long?

How long would the two of you have had? If he had just-

And then he saw it, the pattern of your favorite shirt. It was out of the corner of his eye, but he swore he... he saw it.

It wasn't surprising that it started happening, Rick had known that he started... seeing things, or hearing things. When he went through something this big, it just... it shut his senses down in a way he didn't know how to fix.

So, days went by where he'd swear to hear your laugh echoing through the halls -loud and boisterous. It was the kind when he'd barely heard -freeing, carefree, nothing to be afraid of, he'd heard it maybe once. But then, he swore...

And then it was your eyes, a gleam against the dark of the night, he froze.

Every hair on his body stood up, the chill of the cold night rushing across his skin -he knew those eyes. He couldn't ever mistake those eyes -not after, not after seeing the life fade from them.

He swore he knew those eyes.

Something in him willed to whisper out into the night, urged him to speak, to ask if he had just seen what he saw. If you were... if you were there. And right when he was on the cusp, your name sifting across his tongue for the first time in awhile-

"Dad," Carl asked, suddenly by his side (had he always been there?), "-everythin' okay?"

And Rick Grimes was a lot of things, but he was never a liar. At least not to Carl. There was no room for it in this world, you needed whole and complete trust. It probably wasn't healthy, and if this had been the world before, there was probably a guy in an armchair that would tell him so. But there isn't.

"No," he exhaled, looking out into the night -trying to find a trace of you in the stars, "-but I'm workin' on it."

Carl sighed, scooching in closer to his side -comforting, familiar, "I know, I... I miss them too."

That night was when it happened, he'd retired to sleep after the stars started to blur and his head started to slow. Brain reaching for a kind of warmth that could only be dreamed of, he hoped to get the closest to it. Usually, his nights consisted of flashes of memories, they varied on the night; sometimes he remembered the first time he held Carl. Felt so far away now, as the world twisted in this fucked up way.

He never wished this for Carl. For, for Judith...

On other nights, it was less pleasant. Blurred memories of things he could beg to forget but never would. Killing Shane, losing Lori... It all came back in full force in his sleep. Your death was no exception, he felt the blood on his hands for weeks after, and could often feel the slow beats of your heartbeats thrumming through his head. No matter how hard he tried, he could never warn you -there was always something cutting him back, holding his tongue.

And the more it repeated the more his days bled together, and the more he wished he had kept you longer.

That night, though, was different. It was sunny in his dream, in a meadow he'd never been in -well, one he at least didn't remember.

The birds were chirping and the sun was warm against his skin, not in the way he found now, but in the way of pool parties and meat on the grill -it was nostalgic. The grass was scratching against his palms in a way that felt real, but also, distant. Not a dream.

His eyes began to squint at the orange sun rise, it was bright and beautiful, but a touch too much then. The air was calm, despite his instinct to survey the area -it seemed calm, peaceful even.

A butterfly landed by his hand, perched gently on a flower; Rick could only watch it in astonishment. It had been so long since he'd seen such simply beauty -the missing adrenaline felt starchly out of place, and somehow it made him uneasy.

Then, the sun was blocked out by a shadow -his eyes were struggling to adjust to the change.

"Morning, sleepyhead," a voice spoke, bright and teasing -happy.

But he knew that voice, he knew it so well. There was no way-

Rick gasped out, finding his voice was in fact sleep-slurred -yet, he couldn't catch up with the fierce beating of his heart, "Y/N?"

You furrowed your eyebrows in a way he'd always found cute, "You expecting someone else, Grimes?"

"Well," he spoke, his smile so natural -he didn't want to break this moment, "-no."

The air here was so light, filled with the freshness of the river that ran nearby. He was quiet then, understanding that somehow the dead didn't exist here -you didn't have that worry creased deep into your skin, and feeling his pocket -his pistol remained unaccounted for.

"Good answer," you laughed, extending your hand to pull him up. Your skin was soft, he realized then -no need for callouses and dirt under your fingernails. And looking at you, you were clean -hair messy from the day, yet each strand seemed perfect in a way he couldn't describe.

You paused, noticing his silence, "Everything okay? You don't seem like you're here with me."

You could never be more wrong, he thought gently to himself. His eyes were fluttering across your face, absorbing each blemish on your skin -every wrinkle, every scab, every freckle. He needed to keep it, to know it himself. There was something about you being right in front of him, so tangible, that made him realize that he'd missed so much about you. That there were things he would never know, things he'd always wonder about.

"I'm okay," he relented, the small smile growing on his face -he couldn't miss a moment, "-just disoriented. How... How long have I been out 'ere?"

You looked at him for a second, trying to believe him (you could always see right through him), "Just a few hours, looked like you needed the sleep."

Then, you laughed -without hesitation, extending your hand forward to turn through his hair. It wasn't something he'd experienced with you, the casual affection, but it wasn't exactly unwelcome. Pulling your hand back, you swung a leaf between your fingers.

Oh.

"You like living in the dirt, mountain man?"

He laughed, shrugging at the question, "Was some good sleep."

"Mmm, I can tell," you hummed, the sort of teasing smile settling on your lips he was the most familiar with. Your hand moved up again, shaking through his hair with ease that he hadn't known but didn't feel out of place.

"Where's Carl and Judith?" he asked, curious if they were in this... dream? Universe?

"Inside," you answered, motioning passively to the house behind you, "-it's very early for them. Crossing my fingers, they're still asleep."

He stuttered in place, realizing that the country home with beautiful windows and a cliche picket fence was his. It was exactly what he pictured in his paradise, the daydreams he'd known in a more dangerous world. The real one, something in his head quipped and he pushed it far away. What was the harm of a dream?

Rick pursed his lips, hand reaching out to trace the woodwork -the frames, the porch, the rocking chairs-

"Why?" you continued, voice light and joking, "You already get sick of me?"

"No," he smiled, yes, but there was a seriousness there, "-I could never get sick of ya."

You laughed, a bit taken aback by the genuine tone, as you flashed up your left hand -there sat a ring, glimmering in the low sunrise, "I would hope not."

He blinked, a rough sinking in his stomach -you were married?

Something shifted in him then, rather untouched since... since your death, god he had loved you. It wasn't a quick process, it was slow -especially after losing Lori so suddenly. His feelings were all so mixed up then, between Carl and Shane-

But everything was so clear now, as he stared at the ring on your hand. Would that have happened if you were still...?

There wasn't anything to be official, not in the world he was in, but if he found a ring... would he have proposed?

"Rick?" you asked, hands gentle on your biceps -grounding him there, "-are you sure you're okay?"

He blinked, and something in him snapped then. This wasn't real, you weren't there not really. How was this fair? How was any of this fair? He held his hands against yours, tighter than he probably should have, but he couldn't... he couldn't lose you again.

"You're not..." he stuttered out, slow and steady -his hands shaking against your skin, "-you're not really here, are ya?"

It was suddenly then, the sunrise flickering and almost the nostalgia faded -it was suddenly very real. He could feel the warmth under his fingertips, the texture of your skin, the rise and falls of your breaths. You were right here in front of him -it was so real.

"No, not really," you sighed, moving your hands up to his cheeks -pressing your fingertips into his cheeks, "-but I think you know that. Don't you?"

Rick laughed, watery but still he felt lighter than he had in weeks, "I know, I just... I wish ya were."

You frowned, tucking a few stray curls behind his ears -holding him gently in a way he'd been lacking for so long, "I know you do, Rick, I know you do."

"I love you," he whispered, desperate to get it to you, to tell you, "-I never... I never got to tell you."

"Rick, Rick-" you soothed, dragging your hands down his arms -guiding him through his tears, "-I know. I always knew."

He exhaled, the tears bubbling in his throat -it was so heavy on his shoulders. Once he started, he wasn't sure it could stop. Not with you here, arms open and warm -he always felt so accepted with you. Nothing could scare you away, he knew that. He always knew that.

"Of course you did."

You smiled, tilting his face to match yours -gently and open to him, wholly and completely, "Rick, you know what I'm here for."

"I don't," he was ignoring it, the obvious purpose of you here -closure, "-you have to... I can't-"

"Listen to me," you tried to catch his eyes, "-you don't have to forget me-"

"I would never."

"-but you have to keep going," you were tearing up now, a heavyweight behind your words, "I can't... Shit, I can't leave without knowing you're okay."

He paused, eyes racking across your face -you were familiar now, the scars detailed on your face, and the blood on your shirt. You were exactly as you looked that day, he could almost see the blood on his hands-

"I can't," Rick cried, and it shook to your bones -an ache of something you couldn't give him, "-you know I can't."

"Yes," your thumbs were frantic wiping at his eyes, despite your own tears littering your eyes, "-you can."

He was shaking in your hands, the breaths of his lungs desperate for air -he couldn't breathe. You were still holding him there, delicate as a flower; he was precious to you, in a way you were certain many wouldn't understand.

"How am I supposed-"

"Rick," you were gentle, your tone low and despite your own fears, you comforted, "-I love you, but you need to keep going. I don't know what it's going to take. I just- I just know it's going to be hard. But you, you are one of the strongest people I've ever met."

"Don't do this," he pleaded, and he saw you hesitate then, "-please, don't."

"We didn't get a proper goodbye last time, did we?"

"Y/N," he was getting desperate, fingers tight on your clothes -holding you there as the landscape around the two of you seemed to begin to fade into a bright light, "-don't leave me."

"I love you, okay?" you spoke through tears, holding his face with the gentlest of touches -wiping away his tears, "Never forget that."

"Y/N-"

"Rick," you answered with just as much authority, determined to make him pay attention, "-I have to go, just promise me-"

"But I love you."

You absorbed those words, your face settling into a complex of emotions -something of affection and frustration and sadness all screwed up together on your face. He felt a pang of guilt then at the tears; if he could just-

"Please let me go," it was barely there like the words were hard to get out, and as Rick looked at you he could tell they truly were, "-please let me go."

He was frozen then, the warmth under his fingertips was fading so quickly -he grasped desperately at you. He couldn't lose you again, he couldn't bare it. Not again, not again-

Yet, you weren't there, the fabric underneath his fingers was now that of thin air. The scratchy pillow under his head wasn't the cushion of the meadow, and your hands weren't cradling his face. Despite the distant warmth he felt there, they never had been. The cell seemed like the loneliest place in the world then.

Quiet darkness was unsettled like nothing had ever happened.

"Rick?" a voice tumbled into the hallway, and for a second he hoped. But it was squashed at the familiar face, Maggie, "I heard you, you were... cryin', is there anything-"

And there in that cell, Rick let out a sob -desperate to just feel anything other than the heaviness that sat there, and yet... he didn't want to lose it. Because it was you, somewhere in the twisted train of thought, you were here.

He couldn't leave you behind.

[scwheeler]

🏹🩰 ˖ ࣪⊹ — i hate love her

pairing: loser!mike wheeler x popular!fem!reader 😉😉

summary: influenced by ‘i hate summer’ monologue from ‘500 days of summer’ // mike wheeler clenched his teeth and mutters he hates you but as much as he tries, he can barely get the words out

warnings: description with crooked teeth, 1960’s haircut, knobby knees, mention of scars and bruises (these are just vague descriptions that fit the monologue & i also look different from this description but it’s just according to the film so please don’t take it personally thank you 🙏🙏)

age of pairing: 14-15

i hate y/n.

mike stared at her from across the classroom, crossed legs and tapping your number two pencil on the wooden desk repeatedly. it bothered him so much, only adding to the mental list of things he hated about you. rather than staring now he was glaring but he sat behind you and a couple rows over which meant you didn’t even notice. continuing to annoy him without a single thought.

he pressed down his pencil into his notebook until the lead snapped, making him also snap out of this trance. he looked down at his empty paper with a dark lead circle in the middle. he ripped out the sheet and crumpled it up, debating whether to throw it at your head or into the trash can. he probably had a better chance shooting it at your head than landing it in the trash can according to his sports record but he refrained because your hair looked nice.

he wasn’t sympathetic especially when the situation included you but he wasn’t an asshole. it must’ve taken you all morning to do that hairstyle and agree that you liked it. he just didn’t want to throw all your hard work away so he kept the crumpled paper and shoved it in his backpack, agreeing he’d either throw it to your head another day or throwing it away at the end of class.

“mike! i asked you a question mr. wheeler, what’s the answer to the question on the board?” the teacher asked in a stern tone, hands on his hips and trying to get mike’s attention. mike looked up and away from you, hoping you didn’t see his eyes hurrying to avoid your eye contact. you turned around from your seat to look at him as did the rest of the class.

mike was out of it. he was thinking about something else, you. he forgot to write down all the notes on the board which contributed to what the answer could be to the question the teach was asking. before he could apologize, a hand rose up in front of him. it was yours. your arm popped up and attracted the teachers attention. “yes, ms. y/n?” he asked now taking his burning eyes away from mike and to you.

“if mike can’t answer it, i’d gladly do it myself,” you replied and not in a sarcastic or rude manner. it was like you wanted to help him. “sure that would be great, go ahead,” the teacher proceeded and let you come up to the board. you took your notebook with you, it was covered in bright stickers and shiny gems matching your appearance. mike watched as you sat up from your desk and almost skipped to the board.

you picked up the small white chalk and wrote down your answer, copying your equation from your notebook. the class watched but mike observed. he thought about how you saved his ass from getting yelled at the teacher. why? after finishing the equation, you turned and returned to your seat, winking and smiling at mike before doing so. he shook his head, whatever. he hated you.

i hate her crooked teeth.

if he hates you so much, why was he up at three in the morning still thinking about your stupid smile. your pearl white teeth almost blinding him in the middle of math class. his eyebrows knitted together and his eyes pierced through the ceiling of his bedroom. what was your problem? you didn’t do this to any other person in the school? let alone the entirety of hawkins! so why did you chose him? was this a punishment?

mike groaned and turned off his bedside table lamp, looking at the alarm clock reading 4:27 now. he spent almost four hours just thinking about you and it infuriated him. he liked girls before, girls in his class, girls on the tv, girls in his favorite movies. but he never stayed up thinking about him until this late hour. so what made you so different?

was it your smile? it wasn’t even that nice! he’s seen better smiles in the newspaper and even his mom may have had a better one. yet you were the only thing on his mind and mike couldn’t stand the feeling.

he turned to sides left and right, trying to find a comfortable position to sleep but it was no help. by the time, his eyelids were finally about to shut, they were disturbed by the bright light of the sun coming up. he hated you so much.

i hate her 1960’s haircut.

the next day at school, mike slung his backpack over his shoulder and got to his locker. he agreed to meet dustin before the hellfire club meeting afterschool and was in a hurry. the most unfortunate thing about going to his locker was that yours was right next to it.

he always avoided you everyday, trying to find a time that would be good for him to approach his locker without you being there. however unlucky for him, you were there most of the day. either taking with your friends, unloading your heavy textbooks, or just leaning against it waiting for the bell to ring.

this forced mike to hide behind the corner, peering over time to time like a creep to wait for you to leave. he was even late once or twice just going to his locker at you finally left when the bell rang. when his teacher asked why his eyes slowly trailed to you, who stared back at him innocently. unknown that you were the reason why he was late and got detention.

he could only shut up and take the yellow slip from his teacher. sliding into his desk in the back and staring out into the window in annoyance. why did he need to avoid you? why wasn’t it the other way around?

today was worse. worse than mike could ever imagine. he headed for his locker, after watching you walk down the hall to your cheer practice as you always did afterschool. it was weird how much mike knew about you. he hurried to his locker and put in his code. opening it quickly and grabbing his books and shoving them into his backpack for homework later.

as soon as mike closed his locker door, he almost had a heart attack. you were standing right there, facing away from him and looking into a small mirror attached to the door of your locker. you were applying another layer of strawberry chapstick, the one you carried everywhere and put on during first period, third period, and right after lunch by your locker.

so he was definitely surprised to see you standing right in front of him, puckering your lips and looking into the mirror. completely oblivious of mike standing behind you with a shocked expression saying ‘what the fuck!’ you didn’t even notice him staring at you for a full on five minutes. mike would never admit it but you weren’t such an eye sore as he tried to convince himself all last night.

you were actually nice to look at. really pretty and your hair was right in front of his face, the scent of strawberry and peach shampoo and conditioner filling up his senses. without him even knowing, mike’s frown became a small smile.

your high ponytail with a white bow made you look like a character from a 60’s cartoon. it was moving side to side putting mike into a trance but he snapped out of it as you put the cap back on of your chapstick, signaling mike to go back into hiding and run away before you freak out and sic the entire basketball team on him for being a creep.

he turned around and rushed down the hall, not looking back and just praying that you didn’t notice his existence like you did for the last ten minutes. how he hated you so much.

i hate her knobby knees.

dustin informed mike that everyone was required to watch the final hawkins basketball game tonight, making the hellfire club meeting postponed which eddie would be furious about but he didn’t want his parents being on his back about getting another detention this month. at least lucas would be glad which made going to the game worth it for him and dustin.

“what if we just slipped out during halftime?” mike suggested to dustin who was climbing up the bleachers to look for an empty seat. “if we get caught our asses are toast and my mom will take away my satellite meani—” dustin was explaining but mike had heard this a hundred times to repeat it, “—meaning no suzie, i know i know,” he grumbled and sat onto the wooden seats.

before the game even started, a girl walked to the middle of the gym and stayed singing the national anthem. or at least what sounded like it kind of. she sounded like a muppet, he and dustin agreed on. after that, a bunch of green uniforms filled up the center stage.

it was the hawkins cheerleaders, including you. his eyes immediately fell upon you, disregarding the other twenty girls and guys wearing the same outfit. you were the only one that caught his eye and he couldn’t tell why. was it cause of the weird interaction earlier today?

you were skipping in with a smile plastered on your face, those stupid pearly whites blinding mike once again. you had pom pom in your hands, waving your arms around and waving to the crowd. you didn’t spare mike a glance even once but he didn’t mind. at least it meant he could stare at you the entire time the cheerleaders introduction was happening.

what surprised mike was that you walked to the center, as everyone got into formation, you were center stage. your smile was warm and could light up an entire room, as it was doing now. you danced in the front with a bunch of other girls, doing a routine you guys probably practiced a million times before. mike could see the nervousness in your face, hiding behind that smile you held so proudly.

he noticed your knees, they were kind of crooked. you also had bruises on them, cuts too. skin tone band-aids trying to cover the scars on your knees. people might’ve thought they were ugly but mike found them nice. not like he was a sadist or anything about scars and bruises but it made you look more real. like you weren’t just another carbon copy of these popular cheerleaders who had perfect lives and appearances like the girls surrounding you.

you were different. something about you gave mike a hint that you wouldn’t make fun of him or laugh at his face if he made a mistake. maybe it was because you helped him yesterday morning or smiled at him a moment after.

either way, he found himself clapping for you after you finished your dance, enjoying your performance and rather disappointed to find it so short. dustin was confused, wasn’t mike just giving suggestions on how to sneak out of here five minutes ago? now he was smiling and clapping like his girlfriend was out there dancing in front of the crowd?

why did you make him feel this weird? this good feeling he had whenever he saw you? he had to force himself to hate you to avoid his true feelings from spilling out. he hated how you made him feel.

i hate her.

i hate love her so much.

[sunny6677]

Spookytale

(An Undertale x Spooky Month crossover)

Chapter 11: Another Puzzle.

Summary: After an incident involving the whole town getting hypnotized(besides Skid) and falling into a hole, all of them find themselves in a place that will change their life forever.

TWS: NONE.

————

Before they would exit the room, Streber found himself laying eyes on a room that was beside them all as they turned a corner to the next room. But of course, he kept his mouth shut, unsure of whether or not he should go in there. Yet even so, he still found himself clouded with thoughts he would not say aloud.

As the group walked into the next room, they found themself inside of a large and vast room with purple brick walling still. Some brick-blocks were missing from the wall, only showing a dark square-shaped void of nothingness. There seemed to be a pastel purple path that led to the exit of the room, but there also seemed to be some sort of sign before them that they could barely read. Along with that though, there.. appeared to be frog-like creatures inside of the room. Three in fact. But they were seemingly just sitting there, not making a noise whatsoever.

Some of the group stared on in slight anxiety, eyes widened along with their lips being barely parted in anticipation of perhaps another encounter. Skid would see the frog-like creatures in the room, and his lips would form into an excitable grin. He beamed, "Wow! They look so spooky! Can we—" Roy opened his mouth to yell at Skid to shut up, but Lila pressed her finger over her lips and shushed Skid before Roy could even do such a thing.

John paused for a moment. He did not understand why this place was so big, or why it even existed. Surely, he would have known about it if there was some secret underground place containing sentient monsters. So why wasn't he told about this place? Why wasn't anyone told about this place? What even was this place? The only thing he knew was that he had to save those questions for when they finally found Toriel, or at least when Toriel finally found them.

"Let's.. just press on, folks." John said, his gruff voice being slightly muffled by the sounds of slight murmuring from the group. The group nodded in hesitant agreement, and John began to walk along the path, glancing around as he clenched his fists in case of any dangers. He was strong enough, and he had always been strong enough. He could handle any danger himself. And he knew Jack could handle any danger himself too.

As they walked along the path, Jaune had looked around at the brick walling and odd building structure of the entire room. It was then that she had wondered why this place even existed, or how long it had even existed for. She walked close to her son, placing her hands on his shoulders just incase of any sort of encounter that would occur. "What even is this place?" She muttered aloud to herself as she looked up.

Lila, holding her son in her arms, had wondered that question too. She had wondered where exactly this place had even come from, or why it was even hidden beneath the ground. Even so, she watched as Skid glanced around with a happy grin. For what it was worth, at least her son was sort of enjoying himself in this place. She smiled softly down at him, but continued to walk along the path anyway, following behind the two officers up ahead.

Ross, Roy and Robert conversed with eachother. Not knowing exactly what the hell this place even was. Roy was heard grumbling aloud, "Jeez.. I just wanna find Toriel already!" Obviously, he was growing impatient. This place was so vast and so big.. and it would be hard to find anyone in here.

Ross and Robert only tried to remain calm though, not wanting to alarm eachother and Roy further. They sweated nervously, glancing at the frog-like creatures who stared at them from where they were sitting. They could have sworn they heard one of them saying something along the lines of: "My friend never listens to me. Whenever I talk, they skip through my words by pressing [X]. That's right.. pressing [X]..." The creature went silent for a moment, before whining in a croaking voice, "Oh, not you too!"

...

What the hell did that even mean? Neither of them were sure of how to even respond to that.

Susie held Pump in her arms, not wanting him to run off and perhaps get into an encounter. She glanced at the frog-like creatures as she continued to follow the group, not wanting to get lost. Though.. as she listened, she could have sworn she heard words. From the frog in the middle, she had heard: "I heard using F4 can make you have a full screen. But what does F4 stand for? "Four frogs"? I have only seen a maximum of three frogs in this room.. this is troubling, to say the least."

...

...what?

Pump grinned, saying in his excited and childish voice, "Hey, look! The frogs can talk!" Susie only furrowed her brows at the creatures, holding Pump a bit tighter. She only softly remarked in a somewhat uncomfortable voice, "..yeah. They.. can. Let's just go." Of course, Susie continued to walk along the path, a little fearful that the frogs could apparently talk. Then again, Toriel could talk, and she was a sentient goat woman. So she didn't exactly know why she was afraid even so.

As Kevin walked foward behind Jack and John, he pondered just where exactly would they be staying, or if there was some way they could get home that didn't involve the giant hole they all fell into. He had friends and family he needed to get back to, and as much as he somewhat liked that Toriel was helping them out, he still had a life up on the surface. He couldn't just throw it all away.. but he had to admit, he was at least somewhat grateful that the monsters down here seemed friendly enough. Especially Toriel. But as he walked by the third frog, he could of sworn he heard it saying in a croaking voice, "I have heard you are all quite merciful, for humans... surely you know by now that a monster where's a yellow name when you can spare it. What do you think of that?"

Kevin paused, unsure of how to respond. The only monster down here he was seemingly somewhat capable of speaking to was Toriel, even if he was still a little anxious around her due to what happened with the flower earlier. Kevin then hesitantly replied, "Uh.. its helpful?" Honestly, he had no damn idea what this monster was even talking about. But then the frog-like creature replied: "It is rather helpful. Remember, sparing is just saying you won't fight. Maybe one day, you'll have to do it even if their name isn't yellow."

...

He had no idea what that meant either, but he slowly nodded anyway and continued to try and follow John and Jack.

Streber and Ethan had been all the way behind, however. For as Streber was about to follow, he found his eyes laid upon the sign that was right before him. Ethan followed behind him, raising a brow as Streber walked up to it and seemingly bent down to read it. "What does it say?" Ethan asked. "It says.. 'Come eat food made by spiders, of spiders, for spiders!".." Streber read, squinting his eyes in slight confusion. He had to admit, any kind of food sounded appealing right now. But.. the sign had said that the food was made of spiders.

Ethan only commented, "...well, that's weird." Streber only stood back up, and glanced over to Ethan, "Yeah, it's probably bad anyway. Let's just keep following the others." Ethan softly chuckled to himself, smirking, "Well.. alright." The two then continued following the others, slightly speeding up their pace so they would not lose them and perhaps have to journey even further across this place without any sort of guided help.

Streber was about to yell at the others to wait up, opening his mouth so he could form those words. But then.. a ringing sound would then be heard, echoing across the room. It was a phone ringing sound. Immediately, Streber had recognized that it was Toriel calling, despite not being at an exactly close view yet. Ethan was able to tell as well. Though of course, they were only able to tell it was her because.. well, she was the only person they could really call down here.

When Streber and Ethan finally made it closer to everyone, Streber saw how everyone's faces seemed to light up upon hearing the familiar ringing sound. They stopped where they were walking, looking at Roy expectantly as if to tell him to answer. Roy glanced around, raising a brow, confused as to why everyone was staring at him. Of course, he immediately understood, and only gave an irritated sigh. He swiftly pulled out the now vibrating phone from his pocket, and clicked on the screen, seemingly answering it.

Immediately, Toriel's soft feminine voice was heard from the other end of the phone. She sounded almost elegant as she spoke, like a queen or some kind of royalty. "Hello? I just realized that it has been a while since I have cleaned up. I was not expecting to have company so soon. There are probably a lot of things lying about here and there." Her voice spoke from the other end of the phone, soft noises being heard in the background of her own voice. Roy sarcastically remarked, "Well, yeah, I can tell.." (Roy could have sworn he felt someone glare at him, but he ignored it anyway.)

Toriel seemingly heard this remark, but she continued to speak in her sweet and tender voice regardless. She said in a somewhat nervous sounding tone, "..oh, can you? Perhaps I should have cleaned earlier than expected.. well, you all can pick them up if you wish, but do not carry more than you need. Someday one of you might see something you really like. You might want to leave room in your pockets for that."

After a few seconds of silent, Toriel let out a breathy sigh. "...alright. Thank you for listening, my child."

Roy hesitated. He replied in a slow manner as if uncertain of the little nickname she had just called him, though he did not sound rude. He sounded weirdly softer than his tone usually did in fact. "..uh.. yeah, whatever.. um, bye."

"Goodbye." Toriel cheerfully said from the other end of the phone, before a clicking sound was let out from the phone. She had hung up, and a few seconds of silence filled the room once more.

"Well.. I guess we can take that advice. Let's just keep pressin' on, folks." John mumbled, gesturing to the entrance of the next room with his hand. Everyone let out murmurs of agreement, and began to follow John and Jack again. But Jack then quietly muttered to John, "Are you sure we'll be able to find Toriel in this place? It's pretty big down here.."

"I know.. we just gotta keep goin' though. Besides, who knows if we'll find her if we just give up halfway through?" John replied, looking up at John with a softened expression. Jack stared at him for a moment, as if he didn't expect him to say such a thing. Jack then smiled. He commented, "Jeez.. you seem a little more determined than usual."

John raised a brow. "Do I?" Jack laughed softly, though not in a mocking way of course. "Yeah, you must really wanna find Toriel, huh?"

"...yeah, I guess I do." John stated.

As they walked into the next room, John couldn't help but feel a glimmer of Determination inside of him.

————

The next room immediately made Roy let out a groan of annoyance. It had been a bigger room, having dark purple walling, and a narrow black window that was between a sign on the left and two vines on the right. More narrow windows were along the room, toward the end, and there appeared to be more vines as well. Some were even lined over the windows. But what was most curious.. was the exit. The exit appeared to have two silver plates, which had spikes emerged from them. And.. there seemed to be six patches in different parts of the room.

God damn.. it was another puzzle! They would have to solve yet another one.

"Its.. another puzzle." Ross would comment aloud, his hands in his pockets. Robert would inquire in a slightly helpless tone, unsure of what to do himself, "How do we get past this one, uncle?" John did not reply for a moment, merely observing the place for a few seconds. He tapped his foot, and put his hand under his chin, as if thinking about the solution to this place. Yet in his mind, he found no clear answer.

"Well.. I dunno. But.. I'm sure there's an answer around here somewhere. We just gotta find it.." John would grumble, placing his hands on his hips and still glancing around the place as if to search for an answer. The group went silent for a moment. But then.. Robert observed the sign that was beside him, and read the following words which were printed on it. Robert widened his eyes as he read the words, and he then looked back over to his still thinking uncle.

"Hey, uncle! Come take a look at this!" Robert would say, gesturing over to the sign with his hand. John turned around, raising his brow curiously as if to wonder what he was talking about. John began to walk over to the sign, as if to read whatever had been on there that had been so important. As he finished walking and stood before the sign, he bent down to read it.

The sign had read: "There is just one switch."

"It.. says there's only one switch." Robert gestured with his hands, a little puzzled. Though of course, Robert had an idea in the back of his mind as to what it had meant. After all, he was not stupid. He knew that the sign must have meant that one of the switches had been inside of the patches. But.. he did not wish to speak aloud and ruin his uncles entire thing.

John grumbled. "Hmmm.." He then stood back up, dusting himself off even though there was nothing on him. He mumbled behind his mustache, "Well, from what I can tell, folks.. one of the switches must be in the patches. There ain't no switch in here after all.."

"Wait.. then.. are you just gonna go ahead and fall into each of the patches until you find one of them?" Susie inquired, raising a brow as if worried with the current situation. Pump only looked up at his sister with his big, shimmering, innocent eyes. He hadn't any clue as to what was going on.

John walked back over to Jack, and said, "By the looks of it, probably. But.. that would be the longer route." Jack glanced over at his partner, and then suggested with a gesture of his hand, "Do.. you just want us both to investigate it? It might be a little bit faster that way.."

"I dunno. Hmmm.. how about this?" John spoke, "We can both investigate the patches ourselves until one of us finds a switch. Or.." He looked over to the group, "..we can have a few adult volunteers who might be interested in investigatin' the patches with us. It might take less longer that way.."

The adults in the group hesitated, as if a little afraid of the idea(specifically Kevin). What were they to say to such a suggestion?

"Are.. are you sure? That would mean only one of us would be looking after the kids.. a monster might come by!" Lila spoke. "Yes.. that could happen. But.. if we do end up going on this route, I don't think we'll take too long. Whoever finds the switch will probably be able to get out immediately, and then the spikes will go down. But that probably depends on if a monster is down in the patch where the switch is.." John replied, putting a hand under his chin as if still uncertain.

The group went silent for a moment.

"Well.. what's it gonna be, folks? I'm not forcin' ya to do anything." John gestured with his hands, mumbling behind his mustache. He truly was not forcing him. He was only suggesting what would take faster, and what would involve less possible monster fights. He did not mean to come across as forceful.

The adults in the group only looked at eachother.

////////////////////

Sorry for the short chapter again. A little tired today.

[letarasstuff]

One kind of intern

(A/N): This was requested by @greenslifestuff :) It took me a week or two because I had to interact with my friends in order to get the inspiration I needed 😅 Summary: The team gets to work with a gen z teenager. Let’s see how that goes.

Warnings: Swearing and gen z humour

Wordcount: 2k

✨Masterlist✨

___________________________________

“Team, this is (Y/N) (L/N). She will be interning for the upcoming three months alongside this team. (Y/N), these are Agents Emily Prentiss, Jennifer Jareau, David Rossi, Derek Morgan and Doctor Spencer Reid and our Technical Analyst Penelope Garcia”, Hotch introduces a teenage girl to his team like this happens every day.

“Wait Hotch, we don’t get interns. What is she going to do, no offense, but getting us coffee or what?” Morgan eyes her suspiciously. She looks like any teenager grabbed from the street. A band t-shirt, a torn pair of jeans and a cup from starbucks in her hands. Nothing you would expect to even enter a federal building.

“No offence taken, Agent Morgan. I know having an ugly pickly bitch working with professionals seems weird. It’s just I have summer break and I thought it would be a good thing on my resumé if I already interned in the FBI, because I just graduated and I wanted to go to the academy this fall. But if you wanna do a vibe check with me first, that’s fine by me. Whatever floats your boat.”

The room falls silent. Then out of all sudden everyone turns to Garcia, who puts her arms up in defense. “I don’t even know half the things she said, ask her yourself.”

That’s how the BAU gets their first contact with Gen Z culture and let me tell you it is a wild ride, so buckle up your seats, drink your tea up because we aren’t going to make any stops.

“(Y/N), I need you to come with me. We are going to the M.E. getting the latest reports from our last case”, Morgan tells her while passing her desk. In the blink of an eye the teenager is ready, putting her denim jacket with various pins and bits of patches on.

“Derek, can we get starbucks on the way back? The pumpkin spiced latte is back on their menu and I am on withdrawal. Pleaaaaaasseeee”, she looks at him with a pouty face. Morgan smiles. “Ok, under one condition: We both get one, take awesome pictures and send them to the group chat and then we act like we didn’t get them anything, but we actually buy them their usual.” He got the hang of it pretty fast. “Deal, Sis.”

While they are in the car on their way to the M.E. the agent groans. “Ugh, road work ahead.” “Uh yeah, I sure hope it does!” Morgan eyes her from the side. His whole demeanor says ‘old and confused’.

“What was that, kid?” But (Y/N) begins to laugh. “Don’t you know vines? Short dumb and funny clips people made?” It’s safe to say that this afternoon he learns to speak in vines, getting on Rossi’s nerves because nothing makes sense anymore.

“Ok, I heard you wanted to become a profiler. So I thought I would show you some old cases and then you try to figure out the profile. I’ll present them to you like I do to the team, alright?” JJ and (Y/N) sit in her office, safe from curious eyes. “As right as the law, Ma’am.” 

“Good, this is a case from several years ago. It happened here in D.C. Three men were murdered execution style in the middle of the night in an alleyway. They were all from different backgrounds. The only connection between them was that they were evicted for some form of sexual harassment or assault. The UnSub also had a signature: A shot into their groin while the men were alive.”

Unfaced by the presented facts (Y/N) pops a piece of gum into her mouth. “It do be like that.”

“What?” “I mean, it’s obviously a woman. She experienced any harassment or assault herself. She also has excess to the files, I assume she works as a paralegal, since most of them are women. Female serial killers are extremely rare, but they are better organized. The only thing left to say is good for her getting revenge.” The blonde looks at the teenager with wide eyes.

“I-I guess but you know you can’t say anything like that to Hotch, do you?” She asks concerned. “JJ, I’m dead inside, not dumb. I know this.” But the agent shrugs. “Good. Though I really want to see his face.” “Mood.”

Penelope Garcia is the closest one to relate to Gen Z culture, since a great part of her time is spent on the internet. She happily learns about all the phrases and their meanings as well as the newest trends and hypes.

“Purp is sus, I tell you”, is heard from the lair into the hallway. Spencer and Derek look at each other with concern on their faces. “Do you think they are alright or do we have to-” “IT’S A SELF REPORT I SWEAR PENNY! YOU WORK WITH PROFILERS IN GANDALF’S NAME!” Spencer’s question is answered by that.

“Baby girl, crazy girl, are you doing good? Do you need help or something?” The older one asks warily. But it’s drowned in another screaming match. “I TOLD YOU PURP WAS THE IMPOSTER BUT YOU HAVE TO TELL THEM I VENTED WHEN I DIDN’T! I WANT ALL TIKTOKS I SENT YOU BACK!” “YOU DON’T DARE TO REVOKE MY TIKTOK PRIVILEGES!” “WATCH ME GARCIA!”

“Whoa girls, what about taking a break?” Morgan tries to diffuse the situation. “Yes, I think JJ got new pictures of Henry and Emily brought cookies this morning”, Spencer adds.

The girls, who mere seconds ago were ready to jump each other's throats, look at the other one. “You get the cookies and I go to JJ, deal?” (Y/N) asks. “Deal!” Without sparing the boys another glance they run out of the lair. Their devices are still lit up. A red figure shines into their faces. ‘AMONG US’ is written underneath it. “I think we get too old for this stuff, don’t we Reid?”

Spencer always thought he was young. Of course, his mind is older, but physically he is not that old. But the intern proves him wrong. And boy is he wrong.

“Spencer, is there anything interesting to know today?” (Y/N) takes a seat on his desk, distracting the genius from his paperwork. It is a common occurrence for her to go to him to ask for a fun fact.

“Do you wanna learn something about sloths?” His knowledge (or the writer’s) on this subject is astonishingly big.

“Spill the tea, sis.” “Did you kn- What? But I don’t have tea to spill. And I don’t wanna spill anything, I-” Reid rambles in confusion.

“It’s just a saying, Spencer. There is no deeper meaning to it then ‘Tell me everything about it’. You know, it’s mostly used for gossiping, but I don’t really like to gossip. That’s why I use it in a different context. You got it?” (Y/N) explains it to him in a soft manner, knowing her generation can be complex.

“Yeah, I think I do. Thank you for telling me. I really like the phrase. It has a nice ring. What about you spill the tea about all the phrases you know and I tell you some things from my knowledge?” “I think you got yourself a teacher, genius. But now tell me about the sloths, I love them.”

A few days later Rossi catches her doing some weird moves. “Are you having a seizure or what is your problem, youngster?” Even though he tries not to show it, David took a great liking to (Y/N), thinking of her like a granddaughter. Still, most of her actions confuse the hell out of him.

“I’m practising a dance for tiktok. My friends and I worked on a choreo we wanted to film later. Come here, I can show you.” And that’s what she does in the conference room. The teenager walks him through every move of the choreo, explaining the meaning to it and how it correlates with the song.

“And then you move your arm like that. Exactly like that! You did a great job, David! Are you sure you don’t want to come with me later? We can make you your own account and name it ‘Grandpa-on-tiktok’. You can promote your books over there and it’s a way to float with the trend!”

Seeing her this excited Rossi can’t do anything but agree to the idea. Also, he secretly liked doing the dance thing. It made him feel young again.

“(Y/N), you said you graduated this summer. But your file said you are 16?” Emily asks her one boring day filled with paperwork and countless cups of coffee. “It is what it is”, she mindlessly answers, too focused on filling out the work in front of her.

“I mean yes but how?”

“Emily, smart people exist. I know, coming from me hits different, but here we are.” Finally (Y/N) puts her pen away looking at the raven haired woman.

“What are you talking about? I can’t really follow you.” The more the intern says the more confused gets Emily.

She sighs. “I don’t want to leave you on read here. I kind of am smart somehow. Apparently I was smart enough to skip a grade or two. But it’s no biggie. Many peeps do this, so I don’t sweat it.”

“Even though I feel like you are selling yourself short here, I know you are an incredibly intelligent person. Someday you will be an awesome profiler and any team will be lucky to have you. I really hope we will be the lucky team. But I’m still not sure if this is what I should say in this context.”

“Emily, you are goals. This fam is squad goals. I really hope to be a part of this someday”, (Y/N) admits. “I’m sure Hotch will do his best to get you on the team, you became a great part of it. I can’t imagine a future without you.”

Sadly Prentiss has to get used to a time without the team’s beloved intern. On her last day (Y/N) knocks at Hotch’s door.

“Hey, I wanted to say thank you. The time with you and all the others was amazing and I learned so many useful things for not only the academy but also for my daily life. I really had a glow-up here”, she says after coming in.

Hotch motions towards the chairs in front of his desk. “Take a seat, (Y/N). I got something for you. See it as a compensation for not getting paid for your internship. You really did great work and a better job than some agents, who are doing theirs for many years already but don’t know half the stuff you do. You are a valuable member to the team.”

“Wait, you speak in presence tense. I leave you all this afternoon, you know that, do you?” But the Unit Chief only gestures to a white envelope on his desk. Quickly the teenager takes it and reads it.

“Are you serious Hotchner? Because I will cry you a river if you joke”, she threatens him.

“I’m dead serious, (Y/N). Even though half of your talks are difficult to understand, the other half is twice as useful and important. Additionally to that, you are like a fresh breath of air that the team needed. That’s why a place here will be available for you as soon as you graduate from the academy. I trust you that you will pass with flying colors, I had to promise that to Strauss.”

“Of course, Hotch. I swear on my Animal Crossing Island that I will do my best and more. Thank you so much”, she leaps into his arms.

The others watch the interaction from the bullpen, pretending to not get teary eyed. Their favorite Gen Z Kid will come back to them after all.

Taglist:

Spencer Reid

@calm-and-doctor

[221bshrlocked]

do you trust me?

Paring: Din Djarin x Fem!Reader

Words: 3708

Warning: Lots and lots and lots of touching because Din is getting a massage. Blindfold. Handjob. A sort of foot/hand fetish if you like squint...really really squint.

Summary: It's been a while since Mando came for a massage but things get heated when he asks you for a favor...

A/N: Ok so there was this one anon message I was writing a fic for yesterday when I lost the 1.5K words and it was something along the lines of "imagine Din frequenting your massage parlor and you're a masseuse" so I added a little twist to it because Shy!Din who doesn't want to cross that line until he's 1000% sure you're okay with it does something to me so here you go. I hope you enjoy it people and I'm sorry I lost your message anon. I'll reblog with the taglist later. This is not beta'd!!

You can’t help but smile when your boss comes in and tells you that one of the regulars was asking if you were available for him today. You know who she’s referring to but still tell her that he should be serviced soon since he probably doesn’t have that much time. When she tells you that he specifically asked for you, you tell her that you’ll take him up in the next slot.

It was strange to have someone like the Mandalorian come in for a massage. His people weren’t necessarily known for letting their guard down, especially in an establishment like this. But you felt a sense of pride every time he came in. Granted it was every once in a while, but you enjoyed those sessions immensely. You remember how weird and intimidating it was when he first walked into your room. You couldn’t see a single inch of his skin and you wondered why he would come into a massage parlor when he wasn’t allowed to take off his clothes. He’d quickly explained to you that it was only his helmet that he couldn’t take off. It was a little sad though because for those first few times, he only ever took off his beskar armor. You told him that you would unfortunately not be able to use any of the oils on him since he chose to keep his clothes on and he nodded in understanding.

But then something shifted in the dynamic between the two of you and over the span of a few cycles, Mando, as you liked to call him, began to strip off his layers. You never questioned him about his decisions, ensuring to follow his lead and tell him that he was very much in control of what happened in the room. But as patient as you were, you couldn’t help but feel guilty because maker, why couldn’t he just take off his clothes? It was the most mind-boggling thing you’ve ever experienced. You had adonis on your table come in every day, but just seeing his arms and his waist had your mouth watering. It was pathetic too because no matter how many times you saw him, your heart still skipped a beat when you touched him.

As you finish with your current client and prepare the room, you remind yourself to try and be on your best behavior for his sake. It took the man almost five months to finally feel comfortable enough with you and take off his shirt so you couldn’t go and destroy all of that work. When you’ve set everything up and replaced the candles, you walk out and head towards the front desk. You don’t have to glance around for too long. It’s hilarious how much he stands out next to everyone. As soon as you look at him, Mando’s posture changes and he sits up, his hands clasping his knees as he waits for you to nod at him. You ignore his rigid attitude and whisper something to your boss, smiling back when she turns to Mando and raises an eyebrow at him.

“Come on, I don’t have all day.” You call after him and watch as he stands up and struts towards you. No matter how many times you saw him walk, it’s always a little intimidating when you’re at the receiving end of such a powerful hunter.

“You could have been on your merry way Mando.” You say as you lead him through the hallways. “That’s not how I see it mesh’la.” You stop and turn around to look at him, narrowing your eyes when he almost bumps into you and mirrors your stance. “Are you ever going to tell me what that means?” You think he’s looking past you when he responds and rings his fingers nervously. “You don’t have all day.” The curt comment lets you know he isn’t going to answer your question and you shake your head before you continue to walk towards your room. Before you unlock it, he clears his throat and grabs your wrist to stop you from going any further.

“I- I can come back later, if you’re already booked for today.” You’re a little surprised by his comment but you shrug your shoulders and push the door open for him. “I cleared my schedule just for you so you better not change your mind now.” He turns away from you and stares at the floor before he steps into the room and you let out a breath when he begins to take off his weapons and place them on the corner table.

As you shut the door and move towards the table with the oils and towels, you’re met with a silence like never before. Thinking that he was probably not in the mood to chat, you shut your eyes and count back from ten to calm your nerves. You could do this.

But then you turn around a couple of minute later and you almost drop the bottles of oils when you see Mando’s state of dress. He’s standing in front of the table, wearing nothing but a towel around his waist, staring at you through his visor.

You can’t do this.

“Is- is this okay?” Mando asks and you clear your throat quickly before moving the oils to the massage table. “Y-yeah of course. As long as you’re comfortable. Like I said, I don’t want you to think that you have to do anything.”

“I know…I- I trust you.”

Those three words do little to calm your nerves and you look up at him as soon as the admission registers in your brain. You aren’t sure if it was normal to react this strongly to such a simple declaration but you turn away from him to give him some privacy as he hopped onto the table.

“Can I ask you something mesh’la?”

“Hmm.”

“Do- do you trust me?” His question catches you off guard yet again and you tilt your head at the odd timing of it before you nod. “Of course Mando!”

“Then can you do me a favor?” You hope he’s about to ask you what you’ve been silently craving for months but then he brings out a simple cloth and you’re confused.

“I would like to feel…relaxed, and this helmet makes it difficult to- to…I can’t take it off in front of anyone. I understand if this is too much but if you don’t mind, could you maybe-” You know what he’s asking as soon as he brings up the helmet and without missing a beat, you walk around and take it out of his hand.

“Sure, but I won’t be able to see if I’m doing something that you don’t like. I tend to read body language but this will be more difficult, so you’ll need to speak up. Deal?” You wait until he gives you his confirmation before you return to table. As soon as you see him move to lay down, you turn around and wait until he’s comfortable before you raise the blindfold to your eyes. Mando watches as you twist it tightly around your eyes before you tie it, waving his hands several times in front of you to make sure that you don’t see him.

“Ok, I can’t see anything so…um, hand me the urn with the light-yellow oil please?” You call to him and force yourself to stay quiet when he takes your hand in his and places the urn between your palms. You thank him and wait until he tells you that you can begin. As you test the temperature of the oil, you hear a soft hissing sound coming from the top of the table and you stop your movement when you hear Mando setting down the helmet on the floor.

“Just umm, let me know when I can begin yeah?”

“Go ahead mesh’la, I’m ready for you.”

It never occurred to you that he might sound different without the vocoder and you grip the urn tightly as his voice rings through your ears. It was much deeper and hoarse than you thought it would be and for a moment, you wish you could hear it as he whispers the filthiest desires across your skin. But you bite your cheek and keep yourself under control as you step forward.

“Here, let me help you.” Without warning, Mando grabs your hand and rests it on his chest, and you think that this is probably the moment where you die of sheer sexual frustration.

“Thank you,” you whisper to Mando as you bring the urn above your head and begin to slowly pour the oil across of his chest and stomach. You vaguely feel his arms moving but you say nothing and put the urn aside as you begin to spread the oil across his skin. No matter how many times you massage him, you always felt giddy touching him. He wasn’t exactly ripped per se but he was muscular enough for his job, with some softer muscles here and there.

As you dug your fingers into his skin, you hoped he wasn’t staring at you because you were sure your skin was flushing deeply the more you felt him twitch and flex beneath you. You could tell the past month or so has taken a toll on him because the more you kneaded and stretched his muscles, the louder his gasps and groans grew.

But then you passed over his nipples and you swore he was murmuring curses beneath his breath. Opting to just move on and not apologize, you dig your knuckles into his pectoral muscles and hold back from commenting on how solid they felt. As you move to his shoulder, you could tell that he really was in need of relaxing because there were too many knots in just a small area. Mando is keeping silent the entire time and you thank the maker that he was a usually a quiet guy because there was no way could survive hearing his voice for a long period of time.

Taking a deep breath, you pour some more oil on your hands before you take hold of his arm and begin to stretch it. Mando says nothing as you bend it and move your fingers across his biceps and if he flexes for you, it’s a completely unintentional reflex. When you reach his hand and push your fingers into his palm, Mando swears again, turning his full attention to you as you try to loosen his ligaments. You know you don’t need to spend that much time on his hands but you’ve always loved how much bigger and thicker they felt compared to yours. It also felt a little intimate feeling someone’s hand relaxing between yours, but you kept that bit of information to yourself, not wanting Mando to feel nervous around you.

You slowly walk around the table and apply the same attention to his chest and left arm, hoping he wouldn’t notice the way you were clenching your thighs together as you felt his fingers curl around your wrist as you massaged his forearm.

“Moving onto the legs so if there’s anything you’re not comfortable by, let me know.”

“Yeah,” you almost jump when you hear Mando’s response because…was his voice this deep earlier?

Deciding to just go for it, you twist the towel far enough until it reaches his thighs and begin to pour oil on his thick muscles. You swear he didn’t look this tall but you realize that perhaps the armor didn’t make him look big, just more intimidating. As you squeeze the flesh of his inner thighs, you hear his breathing become erratic and you stop for a second to give him a chance to say something. When he doesn’t, you return to the task at hand and try your hardest to not think of the appendage that was not too far from where you were touching him.

Fuck, this should not be turning you on this much.

You’re not sure what it is about this situation that’s making you this needy and you think that’s it’s perhaps the blindfold but you brush the thought aside immediately, knowing that your brain would not be shy from thinking of more inappropriate scenarios involving blindfolds and liquids should it wanted to.

Pretending you weren’t just daydreaming about the Mandalorian bending you over this table and fucking you into the next parsec, you move to the other side and attend to his other upper thighs. Maker, this man really as built like a hunter. Well, he was an actual hunter so-

“Where did you go?” Mando’s voice breaks you out of your haze and you take your hands off of him when you realize he may have actually been staring at you.

“S-sorry I was just- well, it’s nothing important. Never mind.” You smile embarrassingly at him before you move to his feet and spread them apart. Mando’s sudden intake of breath sends a panic down your back and you take your hands immediately off of him.

“Did I do something wrong?”

“No! N-no, you’re…carry on.” He’s quite breathless as he speaks to you and furrow your eyebrows before you return to knead at his feet. And just like earlier, your thoughts take a turn for the worst when you notice just how large his feet were. They were much bigger than your own little hands and you think that maybe, just maybe, they might be proportional to his-

“That tickles,” Mando’s chuckle would have brought you to your knees had you been focusing on what he’s saying and you apologize before moving onto his other foot and finishing it quickly.

“Alright, turn for me Mando.” You tap his legs and wait for him to move, all the while trying to not think of him turning you around and spreading your legs to-

“Ready.” You silently curse him for always cutting off your train of thoughts but you bite your tongue and move to the other side of the table. Standing right in front of his head, you pour more oil on his back and attempt to ignore his whimpering which you were sure he wasn’t aware of. Once there is no more oil, you mirror your actions from earlier and dig you knuckles into his shoulder blades, finding the tense muscles and tendons much more difficult to relax than his front.

“Maker…you’ve been working hard haven’t you Mando?” You only get a small groan in return and you chuckle when you massage a particular spot that has him reaching out and grabbing on your legs.

“Oh…uhh please,” if it was possible to choke on air, you would have done so as soon as he moaned for you. This was not what you signed up for when you first woke up today, and you hated how much more relaxed he felt in your presence because the lower you moved down his back, the more confident his groans grew and before you knew it, he was whispering your name and speaking in his mother tongue. You weren’t sure if he was saying good or bad things, but from the way he was reacting to you, you had an idea of how he was feeling. And by the time you got to his calves, the man has pretty much melted underneath you.

As you finished up and moved away from the table so he could take his time to get up, you felt a strange haze wash over you. Something about the way he moaned your name along with expletives and maker knows what else had you wishing he could just muster up the courage to step over that line with you.

Slowly turning around, you wait until Mando begins to sit up before you speak up.

“I hope you don’t take too long before you visit again…it’s difficult to get you to loosen up when there’s so much pent-up energy.” You smile and hope he can tell that you’re joking with him, not realizing how much danger you were in just from being near him.

“It won’t help.”

You’re shocked by his response because he’s never actually insulted you before and you’re about to bite his head off when he grabs your wrist and pulls you towards him.

“M-mando wh-”

“It’s not going to help, because I still have a lot of pent-up energy mesh’la. And you’re the one to blame.”

It’s like a zap of lightening has struck you down because as you try to free yourself from his grasp, you accidently brush something beneath the towel he has around his waist, something that was tenting the fabric and making it much harder to the touch.

“I’ve been trying to convince myself to visit you for so long sweet girl, but I stop myself from pushing in the coordinates when I remember how good it felt to have you worshipping me with your hands, your strong, soft little hands that I dream of touching me elsewhere…where I need you, crave you, fucking burn for you.” His words are laced with promises that you’ve longed to hear from him and you don’t realize that he’s waiting for you to answer until his grip tightens around your waist and he pulls you in closer.

“Mando,” you whisper to him as you lean into his neck and before he can ask you again, you slowly leave a trail of kisses across his jaw and down his jugular, not caring for how rough you’re being as you descend down his chest and leave bitemarks across the beautiful skin of his broad torso. He’s already somehow a moaning mess underneath your touch and the more you lick and kiss him, the more needy his groans become.

“Please, let me.” You plead as you raise your lips until they’re brushing against his and as Mando slowly tilts his head to capture your lips in a kiss, you dip your hand beneath his towel and firmly grasp his cock. Mando is distracted for a moment and he lunges into you when he feels how your warm hand massaging his dick. Although he normally doesn’t prefer any display of emotion, he can’t hold back from moaning your name as you slowly stroke his length. You’re not surprised by his size, but you’re a little shocked by how hot he runs and as you twist your palm around the bulging tip, Mando leans into you and shoves his tongue down your throat, making sure you don’t run away from him as he slips one arm around your back and keeps you as flush to him as possible.

The room is suddenly filled with the sounds of Mando’s heavy breathing and groaning, and you smile to yourself when you remember how desperate he said he was for you. You’re glad you weren’t the only one feeling such an intense neediness and it’s your turn to gasp when you dip your hand and grab his balls. Mando’s hold on you tightens and you’re sure he’s giving you bruises but you can’t find it in yourself to care because this monolith of a hunter was falling apart just from your hand.

You break the kiss and slowly push him down so he could lay on the table again and as he follows your lead, you smile down at him before you grab the oil and pour a little more of it on his dick. He twitches at the warm material but quiets down as soon as you bring two fingers and shove him in his mouth.

“Be quiet for me baby, don’t want the other clients to think they’ll be getting this treatment too.” Mando bites down on your fingers as he nods and you try to hold back from jumping on the table and sinking down on his cock.

Fuck, it felt like it was beautiful and you hoped that you’d get to see it at some point in the near future. But you were satisfied with what you had now and as you worked him closer to his orgasm, you wished you could see his facial expressions as he surrendered to you.

You could feel him buzzing with energy on the table, and you giggled when he stretched out and grabbed your leg to bring you closer to him.

“Please…oh fuck, please I-”

“Cum for me Mando…cum for me, let me taste you on my lips baby please. You’ve been so good to me, letting me take care of you and trusting me to keep your secret. Go ahead darling, and cum for me.” He suddenly sits up on his elbows and you let go of his mouth before grabbing his balls and massaging them until he fell over the edge. As he growled his release, you couldn’t hold back anymore and leaned down, taking as much of him in your mouth as possible as you sucked on him and tasted his seed. There was so much that you swallowed and you marveled at how much he still had as you continued to milk him dry. When he finally finished and fell to his back, you stroked him softly a few times before licking across his navel to clean him up.

As you stood next to him, you felt a little shy at what was to come. But Mando seemed to see you overthinking because he didn’t waste another minute, sitting up quickly and pulling you in his arms. You stood in between his legs and smiled when he leaned down and began to kiss across your eyes.

“You…you’ve been so good to me mesh’la.” He whispers hoarsely as he nips at your shoulder and you giggle when his scruff begins to tickle your skin.

“So have you.” Mando sighs heavily at your confession and you repeat it one more time so he could believe that you were telling the truth.

“I- I think I’ll start coming more often. You know, so the muscles aren’t too knotted like you said.”

“Hmm, is that all you’ll come for Mando?” You smile when he pecks your lips and brushes your hair aside.

“No sweet girl, I’ll be coming for you too. More than you think.”

[daryl-dixon-daydreams]

Words: 2,759 Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader Reader pronouns: she/her Era: Alexandria Warnings: Language, mentions of violence, references to gore, mentions of anxiety, disturbing imagery, typical TWD stuff Summary: Daryl and Y/N are outside the walls when they hear a baby crying. A/N: THIS IS SO SOFT I MIGHT DIE. Requested by anonymous! Hope you like it! Thanks for the request!

Your name: submit What is this?

You froze. You glanced back at the archer, “D’you hear that?” you asked him in a harsh whisper.

Daryl strained his hearing. “Heard somethin’.”

You’d been venturing out with Daryl for tracking lessons for quite some time. He’d been somewhat opposed to the idea at first, not liking the idea of you wandering around outside the walls, but you’d worn him down. Now, you were getting quite good at reading sign and he had noticed that you seemed to be much more observant, vigilant as you moved through the trees. Your footsteps were nearly silent.

You straightened up, turning from the trail of the deer you’d been tracing, and Daryl watched as you turned to the side, your eyes lifted to some unknown distant point in the trees.

“What is it?” he asked, noticing the slightly anxious look on your face.

You shook your head almost imperceptibly. “I don’t know. It’s just a feeling more than anything.” You glanced back at him and were met with his steady blue eyes. You chewed the inside of your cheek for a moment. “Come on,” you said, stepping away from the deer trail and moving in the direction you thought the sound had come from.

You didn’t have to go far before you heard the sound again, and this time it was much clearer. Your wide eyes met Daryl’s, his brow heavily furrowed. Your stomach twisted. You turned and increased your pace.

You moved through the brush as quietly as you could and finally you saw a shape looming ahead. It was an abandoned house, more of a shack really than anything. The sound was clear now as you crouched at the edge of the lot. Daryl knelt beside you and you exchanged a harried glance with him.

It was a baby crying and it was coming from inside the house. There were about a dozen walkers beating on the rotten woods of the dilapidated structure. It looked like it wouldn’t be long before they broke in.

Daryl worried his bottom lip with his teeth. “S’a lot of walkers,” he murmured.

You gulped and looked back. “We have to do something.”

He sighed, hesitating, his eyes flickering between your face and the group of the dead.

You couldn’t wait anymore. There was a swell of urgency growing in your chest, like a high tide rushing in. You swore under your breath and unsheathed the knife at your hip. You rushed out of the brush and right toward the walkers.

Daryl scrambled up to follow you.

You plunged your knife into the skull of the first walker lurching at you and immediately repeated the action with another. As you pulled your knife out, you landed a kick into one of the dead who was grappling for you.

Daryl was soon beside you, slashing and stabbing just like you were to clear the way to the building.

By the time you were done, you were drenched in sweat and Daryl looked at the circle of now still corpses around you. There was a spray of walker blood across your neck. He was about to scold you for rushing in, but he was taken aback by the number you had killed, and you weren’t done with your somewhat frantic mission.

You charged to the door and saw that it was splintered from the latch. They’d almost broken through. You turned the handle and pushed inside. You froze with just one foot inside the small house.

Daryl looked in past you, over your shoulder.

There was the desperately wailing baby, still swaddled to its mother in a makeshift carrier. She was dead. You made a lunge toward the infant, but Daryl’s hand clasped your shoulder gently and stopped you. You glanced back at him, your eyes glistening with tears and your expression pure desperation.

He nodded. “We dunno what she died from. And she could turn at any second. Be careful,” he murmured.

You nodded at him and he lifted his hand. You approached the prone figure cautiously, all the while the baby’s cries piercing straight through you. You knelt down and carefully lifted the swaddled infant from the body of its mother, being careful and kind to the body of the woman who had probably given her everything to see that her child survived.

Daryl watched as you murmured to the infant in a soft voice, shushing and humming. “Shhh, it’s alright. It’s okay.” You pressed the baby to your chest and stood, bouncing slightly to try and soothe the cries. Eventually, she stilled. You glanced up at Daryl, your eyes still wide and glistening, although no tears stained your cheeks.

He was staring at you with a curious expression on his face. It was soft and thoughtful. He shouldered the strap of his crossbow and moved farther into the house, looking around. “Gotta be some supplies for that baby here somewhere, right?” he said. He felt the need to focus on a task because looking at you with the little bundle against your chest was bringing to life some warm, fluttery feelings he didn’t want to acknowledge.

“Hopefully,” you said, wrapping the sling around yourself and settling the baby inside. You smiled sweetly as she grasped your finger and a little laugh of joy bubbled out of you. Daryl looked up from his search and saw you smoothing your hand over her soft hair. “She has to be starving,” you said, your eyes a little starry.

Daryl tore his eyes away from the scene again. “Mm,” he acknowledged, the best he could do because he was worried what might slip out if he said any more. “Here,” he said, picking up a small duffel bag. It had some bottles and formula in it, as well as cloth diapers and a baby toy.

He shouldered the bag and walked back to you, peeking in over your shoulder at the little face pressed against you, your finger in her tiny, curled hand. “C’mon,” he said softly, surprising himself and you as his hand landed lightly on your lower back. “Let’s get her back somewhere safe.”

You looked up into his face and saw that his expression was open, earnest, soft. Your heart jumped. You nodded, but hesitated a moment when he started to head toward the door. Daryl looked back when he didn’t feel you behind him and saw that you were staring down at the still figure on the floor. “We can’t just leave her like this. She’ll turn,” you said softly, your brow furrowing.

He gulped and nodded. “Alright. Just wait outside a sec. I’ll do it,” he said, unsheathing his knife.

You gave him a sad but grateful look, pressing the baby against you more securely and nodded. “Thank you.”

_ _ _ _ _ _

You arrived back at the gate to Alexandria and Rosita let you in. Her eyes went wide when she realized what you exactly that bundle slung across your chest was. She came closer and peeked into the sling, her eyes flitting up to meet yours.

“We found her in an abandoned house, surrounded by walkers. Her mom was already dead,” you whispered. She was sleeping against you.

Rosita’s expression was sad for a moment, but then she smiled at the rosy cheeks and long eyelashes fanned out against the little girl’s cheeks. “Preciosa,” she murmured.

You smiled up at her.

Daryl was watching the whole interaction from a couple feet away and he couldn’t take his eyes off you. You were so soft and gentle, the look in your eyes like you’d never seen something more beautiful in your whole life. He kept feeling waves of warmth blooming out from his core and suddenly seemed unable to stand still, shifting his weight and tapping his fingers against his leg. “We should take her to get checked out by the doc,” Daryl said quietly.

You nodded, giving Rosita one last smile and then falling into stride beside him.

Daryl glanced over at you as you walked to the clinic. You caught him studying your face and gave him a questioning look.

“I wanted to yell at ya out there for rushin’ in like that,” he said. He glanced again at the baby. “But I get it. If you hadn’t, I woulda.”

You nodded. “I don’t what happened—I just couldn’t sit there and let them get her, even if it meant I might—” you broke off, not wanting to speak what was always a real possibility outside the walls.

“Yeah. Ya killed like seven of ‘em yourself before I even got there,” he said, slight amusement turning one corner of his mouth up.

You smiled abashedly. “Yeah…”

“I mean, I know ya can fight but—” he broke off, shaking his head, that vague smile still slightly curving his lips.

You arrived at the clinic and Daryl led the way inside. Denise looked up as he came in and immediately sighed. “Oh, no. Don’t tell me one of you needs stitches again?”

But she froze when you stepped in with that swaddled bundle in your arms.

Her eyebrows lifted. “Is that what I think it is?” she asked, bewildered, as you wandered over.

“Can you take a look at her?” you asked, lifting her out of the sling that was draped around you. She woke and stirred, immediately starting to cry again. The sound tugged at your heart.

Denise nodded. “Of course. Bring her over here,” she said, leading the way to a cushioned exam table.

“Shhhh, it’s okay. It’s alright,” you cooed, setting her down on her back. You offered your finger and she gripped it tightly. You smiled up at Daryl and his heart skipped a beat at the breathtaking light in your eyes and that irresistible grin. “She feels strong. That’s good, right?” you asked, turning to Denise.

She was setting her stethoscope aside. “Lungs and heart sound great. She looks healthy.” She glanced up at you. “I don’t know exactly what happened out there, but I have a hunch she’s lucky you found her.”

You nodded. “Yeah…”

“I think I saw some baby formula and other stuff you might need in the supply room. Lemme just check,” Denise said.

You scooped the little girl back up into your arms and her cries immediately became less desperate. You pressed her to your shoulder and rubbing her back softly, shushing her and bouncing, pressing her soft hair to your cheek. “Daryl, would you mind making up a bottle for her?” you asked.

He nudged his nose up in a nod, and you felt warmth in your face as you watched the tough biker pull out the canister of formula and a bottle, which looked tiny in his hand. You smiled to yourself as he went to mix up a bottle.

Denise returned with another canister of powdered formula and more cloth diapers as well as some other odds and ends for baby care. She shoved them into the bag Daryl had found at the abandoned house. Denise smiled and smoothed a hand over her soft hair. “Pretty amazing. Everyone is going to lose their minds over her. Little ones are so rare now,” she said. “First Judith and now this sweet little one.”

You nodded. “Yeah. I can’t stop thinking about what would have happened if Daryl and I had waited until tomorrow to go tracking, or if I had just ignored the first sound I heard.”

Denise nodded. “But you didn’t. And she’s safe and healthy now.”

Daryl came back with a bottle he had warmed slightly in the microwave and you grinned at him as he handed it to you. You adjusted her in your arms and she immediately latched on to the bottle and started eating. Daryl studied the tender expression on your face, that little smile that seemed like it might stay there forever now. He reached a hand up and rubbed absently at the ache in his chest. You looked up at Denise again. “Thanks, Denise,” you said. “We should head back to the house.”

“Anytime.” Denise gently smoothed her hand over the tiny girl’s hair one more time and gave you a kind smile.

You and Daryl started back toward the house at a leisurely pace. He still had the bag slung over his shoulder and you watched as she drank the formula hungrily. You could feel Daryl’s eyes on your face again and you glanced up at him.

“This mean you’re a mom now?” the archer drawled. You were struck by the question your eyebrows lifted.

“Huh… I hadn’t really thought about it that way,” you said, adjusting the bottle in your hand and looking back down at the little one in your arms. “She needs a mom. And I’m here,” you said softly. “I guess so,” you said, looking back up at Daryl. “Life is strange,” you said, shaking your head, peering back down at her.

“Mhm,” Daryl agreed. “She’s lucky to have ya.” Your heart skipped a beat at his words.

You were immediately swarmed by the group when you arrived back at the house. Everyone pressed in to see the baby, cooing and smiling. She was going to be so loved.

“Can I hold her?” Carol asked immediately.

“Hey! Nuh uh!” Daryl said, hurrying to set down the baby bag and his crossbow. “I helped save her and I ain’t even held her yet. Give her here,” he said, holding his arms out.

You grinned at him and carefully passed her to Daryl. He smiled down at her, rocking her from side to side. The sight of him with that sweet little baby in his strong arms was doing things to you… You hoped your face wasn’t turning red from the flush of heat you felt. “She needs a name,” you said thoughtfully.

“Easy. Lil’ Asskicker 2.0,” Daryl said, letting her grasp onto his finger. Everyone had a good laugh about that.

_ _ _ _ _ _

That night you fell asleep on the floor of the living room with the little girl beside you on a blanket. You were curled around her and she was pressed close against you, needing the comfort of someone to sleep.

Daryl was sitting on the couch nearby, alternating between cleaning and sharpening his blades and thoughtfully watching you sleep beside the new group member.

Carol leaned on the back of the couch beside him, looking over at you and the baby, smiling. Daryl turned to look at her.

“It’s nice to be reminded that good things can still happen,” she said softly.

“Mhm,” Daryl hummed, nodding. He flicked his thumb over the edge of the knife blade he was sharpening, testing to see if it needed more. “Ya should have seen her out there. She just ran right into this group of walkers and started takin’ ‘em out.”

Carol’s smile widened. “Maternal instinct,” she said. She glanced over at the archer and saw his blue eyes fixated on you. “Looks like she has a mom. She’s going to need a dad.”

Daryl’s eyes snapped over to peer back at Carol, his brow furrowing low. He scoffed a little at her statement. “She’s got a whole group of us. She don’t need me.”

“So, you wouldn’t like that? Having your own little family within our big family? Especially with Y/N…” she said, a knowing smile on her face. “Come on, your ears turn red every time she enters the room!”

Daryl shifted uncomfortably as Carol spoke a wish that was close to his heart, but which he was too terrified to act on.

Carol quit her teasing and sighed, looking back at you and the little one sleeping peacefully. “You’re not your father, Daryl. You’re you. And you’d be an amazing dad,” she said. “And if you don’t try, find something worth holding onto, worth protecting, what’s the point anymore?” And more than anything, Daryl knew that you were worth protecting. And now so was this little one. So, maybe it was time that he tried for what he wanted.

[emeren]

speed racer- eren jaeger

pairing: eren jaeger x fem!reader 

word count: 6k

content warnings: nsfw, smut, 18+, smoking, degradation, overstimulation, breeding (w/o baby talk) 

notes: 100% inspired by the official art, like mmm yes please. also i know absolutely nothing about how car racing works, but that’s not important. this is unedited because my brain turned to mush writing it. enjoy!! <3

SUMMARY: eren’s a semi-professional car racer, who has a tumultuous friendship with the reader. after losing a race, eren sets out to win something else in his life, much to the reader’s surprise. 

“took you long enough!” sasha called out, holding her hand above her eyes in an attempt to block out the bright sun. you dished her a smile, weaving your way through the throngs of people in the stands, attempting not to step on anyone. your eyes briefly flitted to the track, the assistants distantly getting their cars ready. they were hardly visible from here; merely faceless figures idling around. you heaved out a sigh as you reached sasha, the brunette gingerly patting the spot next to her. 

“you couldn’t have gotten better seats, sash?” you asked as you sat down, pushing your sunglasses on top of your head. sasha waved her large bag of popcorn in front of your face, an exasperated expression on her features. 

“the line was long, and what’s a race without popcorn?” she grinned, offering you the bag. you rolled your eyes but took a fistful of the bright yellow snack nonetheless. “plus, if you really wanted that good of seats, you would’ve come early yourself.” 

“i did come here early,” you retorted, your voice muffled by the popcorn. sasha raised a questioning brow, her elbow nudging you in the side. 

“getting here early just so you can poke around the racer’s quarters is not the same thing,” she singsonged, a girlish smirk on her face. you scoffed, turning away from her as you felt heat race to your cheeks. “c’mon, everyone knows you and eren are totally into each other. i don’t understand why you guys don’t just go for it.” 

“i wasn’t poking around, and i am not into eren,” you said, shifting uncomfortably as the words left your mouth. it was true, to some degree. the two of you had been friends in high school, back when eren was just some skinny kid with anger issues. now he was a semi-professional racer, and the rivalry between the two of you was palpable, to say the least.

you’d been in the same friend group and for some reason eren just loved to pick on you whenever he got the chance. you suspected it had something to do with his repressed daddy issues or whatever, and he’d known mikasa and armin far too long to be so catty with them. initially they were just playful taunts, but as you got older, they started to become more personal. with age came your own unchecked need to banter and argue with him. 

somewhere along the way the arguments turned to sexual tension. a sexual tension that for the most part, the two of you were happy to ignore. it allowed room for a more sassy friendship, at least. 

“uh huh, suuure,” sasha responded, seemingly unconvinced. she must’ve sensed your discomfort, deciding to change the topic. “who’s who?” 

your eyes traced the track, analyzing each vehicle. “armin’s in yellow, mikasa’s in red, eren’s in white, and i believe levi is in green.” 

“levi’s racing? isn’t he getting a little old for that?” sasha laughed, squinting. you chuckled. 

“it’s just a small fundraiser race, plus he’s a crowd favorite over here,” you explained. sasha nodded as she processed the information. the sun was hot, beating down on your back. “i’m honestly surprised this many people came out.” 

sasha tossed more popcorn in her mouth, halfway done with the bag despite the race still not having started. she offered it to you again. “mhm, this is the same type of crowd that we’d see in the underground.” 

you thought back to your days of attending the illegal races, late at night and under the cover of darkness. though you were just a junior in college, it felt like those nights freshman year had been decades ago. that was before eren showed real promise in the professional circuit. it was also where levi scouted him out to be his successor. 

as if on cue, you could see the figures of the racers emerging from the port, each headed for their respective cars. you couldn’t help the way your gaze immediately followed the tall, brown haired racer adorned in his white racing jacket, checkers on the side. the crowd erupted into cheers at the sight of the all the racers, one from each color of the rainbow. eren walked with a certain confidence, his adamant determination being one of the only things that followed him from high school. 

though you couldn’t clearly see his face from where you sat, you knew he was smiling. eren had always loved the adrenaline rush before a race. 

“alright ladies and gentlemen, we welcome you to the annual shiganshina fundraiser race!” the reporter boomed over the intercom. sasha squealed in her seat, excitedly gripping your arm and pointing towards your friends. you felt a mix of excited nervousness waft over you, giggling along with her. “today we’ve got racers from all over the circuit, and each one has volunteered their precious time for the cause. can we get a round of applause?” 

the crowd erupted in yet another ear deafening round of applause as the announcer read off the names of each of the racers. you and sasha made sure to scream your loudest when armin, mikasa, and eren’s names were read off. 

you hoped they knew it was you, your throat scratchy as you sat back down. there was no need to be loud for levi; the entire crowd went absolutely feral at the mention of his name. 

the announcer read off the conditions of the race, as well as the reasoning for the fundraiser itself. you and sasha chatted quietly about the after party while the racers put their helmets on and got in their cars. before too long, the announcer was gearing up for the start. 

“alright everyone, we’re about to start. get yourselves ready.” 

you and sasha stood, hollering and cheering for your friends as the cars all lined up. you knew you’d be happy if any of them crossed the finish line first, but it was undeniable that it would be eren. it wasn’t armin or mikasa’s passion like it was eren’s; they viewed it more as as fun hobby. nevertheless, you dreaded how smug eren would be once he added another win to his already growing list. he really was a bastard sometimes. 

“racers ready your cars. 3... 2... 1... go!” 

they were off, levi’s green car easily settling into first place, cruising past the other cars as he whipped around the first curve. you held your breath, eyes scanning the other cars placements. eren was in fourth, armin in fifth, and mikasa in second. sasha yelled sporadically, reaching out and squeezing your wrist tightly. 

as they rounded the circuit for the second time, eren passed the third place racer, coming up behind mikasa’s red car. you held your breath. “c’mon eren...” 

“shit! he passed her!” sasha screeched, jumping up and down. you smiled as he whipped the corner, nearly cutting the edge of the median. 

“levi is still so far ahead,” you commented, trying to pry sasha’s death grip from your wrist. your eyes glanced to the clock, realizing that the race was near its finish. levi was cutting the third corner and eren was quickly gaining on him. 

“looks like it’s gonna be clo-” sasha’s voice was cut off as a large man tripped over the bleacher behind you, effectively shoving you into her side. “shit, the popcorn!” 

you regained your balance, giving the man behind you a dirty glare as you turned to sasha. she frowned at the popcorn that’d been spilled all over the ground. “what a waste!” 

looking back up at the track, the crowd broke into screams of excitement. you expected to see eren’s face on the big screen to the side as confetti streamed through the air, but were surprised to see levi’s unimpressed stare. 

eren lost? 

“you’ve gotta be shitting me,” sasha gaped, her face slack in shock. you shrugged, shaking the feeling of disappointment from your shoulders. serves him right. 

people started to vacate the stands, shoving their way past you as you turned to sasha. “let’s go find connie and jean, sash.” 

she nodded, still frowning. the two of you climbed down the steps, going against the flow of the crowd as you weaseled your way down onto the spectators path. you could see all of the racers shaking hands, congratulating each other. your mind briefly considered whether or not eren was going to be upset, but you decided not to dwell on it. 

you watched as the racers disappeared into the tunnel, eren’s tall figure no longer in view. just then, connie and jean came walking out from the service booth, both wearing their maintenance coveralls. 

sasha wildly waved her arm, grabbing your hand and pulling you through the remaining stragglers towards your friends. 

“hey guys!” she smiled, the boys jogging to meet you halfway. 

“why were you guys in such shit seats?” connie asked, skipping over a greeting. you let out a small laugh at sasha’s expense. she merely shrugged, turning to jean. 

“we going to your place?” you questioned before she had the chance. jean nodded, adjusting the backwards baseball cap on his head. 

“yeah, just gotta wrap some things up, then we can head out,” he replied. you grew happy at the thought of kicking back with your friends, enjoying a nice night of fun. parties at jean and connie’s place were always the best. 

***************

“some race that was,” connie groaned, leaning back and bringing the beer bottle to his lips. so far it was just you, sasha, connie, jean, and a bunch of random drunk people who’d come from the track. sasha scoffed from her spot on the worn, brown couch. 

“you could say that again,” she grumbled. “we didn’t even get to see levi cross the finish line ‘cause some guy rammed into us.” 

jean looked at you from where he leaned against the wall, a bottle in his hand and his eyebrows raised. “wait, for real?” 

“yeah,” you sighed, drinking whatever bitter liquid sasha had poured into your red solo cup. “didn’t even say sorry.” 

“how many times do i have to tell you guys, just come work maintenance with jean-boy and i,” connie suggested, wrapping his arm around sasha’s shoulder and giving a squeeze. she rolled her eyes and shoved him off. “you guys would get to watch the race from the track itself.” 

“i don’t know the first thing about cars,” sasha laughed, you nodding along with her. 

“and you think we do? i just said that so we could get the best seats in the house,” connie snorted, taking another swig of his drink. you chuckled at his idiocy, unfazed by yet another one of their stupid stunts. “where’re the big racers anyway?” 

“they should be here soon,” you responded, glancing out the window. jean was unironically blasting the fast and the furious soundtrack, something he’d done after every race for as long as you’d known him. by now the songs were ingrained in your brain. 

“who wants to bet jaeger is in a pissy mood?” jean snorted as he moved to sit down on the arm of the chair you were planted in. 

“when isn’t he?” you sneered. connie and sasha hummed in agreement. both you and jean loved nothing more than to push eren’s buttons. you knew jean’s motives stemmed from some boyish fun, whereas yours felt a little more personal. 

the sound of clapping began to compete with the music, your neck craning to look past jean into the hallway. eren, armin, and mikasa came into view, people cheering them on and patting them on the back. they each wore their racing jackets over their street clothes. 

you felt a familiar sensation burn in your stomach at the sight of eren. his dark hair was pulled back per usual, wispies framing his tan face. The white jacket stood out against his black t-shirt and black jeans; key necklace he always wore glinting against his chest. as your gaze travelled up from his body, you were startled to make contact with his teal eyes. you quickly glanced away in embarrassment. 

“well, well, well,” jean cheered, raising his bottle to the trio. “how’d it feel to lose to a short, old man, eh jaeger?”

eren scowled, obviously peeved. “if i had to lose to anyone, i’m glad it was levi.” 

connie snorted at that. “man, professional circuit has you soft.” 

“whatever you say, baldie,” eren smirked mischievously as he came to sit down on the couch. connie defensively rubbed his head. “at least i’m making money in prof.” 

“i still can’t believe you have people that actually want to sponsor you,” you snipped, a playful expression on your face. eren lazily looked towards you, the familiar irritation laced in his eyes. 

“i’m sorry, what was that? i wasn’t listening to you,” eren retorted, looking as unbothered as ever. you glared at his words, but caught armin’s disapproving eye and decided to stay quiet. 

as the night carried on, you watched your friends relax and reminisce about previous races and the days spent in the illegal ring. it seemed crazy that your life was so centered around car races, when you weren’t even a racer yourself. but you supposed you were just happy to be supporting your friends.

at some point you got up out of your chair to refill your cup. the large hoards of people had started to dance; the house feeling hot and humid as you shoved your way to the kitchen. luckily the room was empty, save for armin who was drinking water out of the kitchen tap. 

“thirsty?” you asked, amused. his head snapped up, surprised by your voice. it took one look to tell he was absolutely trashed, face red and eyes half lidded. he smiled goofily and nodded his head before stumbling back out into the crowd of people. 

you quickly filled your cup, following the direction armin had gone. as you stepped out of the kitchen, a body came out of nowhere and smacked into you. 

eren jumped back, trying to avoid the liquid that sloshed out of your cup. “hey, watch it!” he hissed. 

“you watch it, casanova,” you snapped, irritated by the sticky alcohol that dripped down your hand. eren’s eyes narrowed at the nickname, his arms defensively crossing his chest. 

“i told you not to call me that,” he bit back, eyebrows furrowed in annoyance. you rolled your eyes, instinctively bringing your hand to your mouth in an attempt to lick the drink off. eren watched you, his gaze clouded with an indiscernible emotion. you knew what you were doing. 

“hm. too bad,” you quipped, dragging your tongue down the side of your hand, popping your pointer finger in your mouth. eren glowered at you as you let out a giggle. “see ya, loser.” 

“whatever, brat,” he huffed, shaking the tension from his pants as you sauntered off into the crowd. he hated the effect you had on him.

you’d already decided not to get shit faced. while the rest of your friends had chosen otherwise, you danced alongside them, your resolve wearing thin much faster than theirs. jean and sasha bounced happily up and down, screaming the lyrics to whatever song it was blasting from the speakers. connie and mikasa were playing beer pong, and you had no clue where armin and eren had gone.

you heaved in a breath as a sharp pain shot through your side, signaling the end of your dancing career for the night. your two dance partners were too far gone to notice, waving goodbye to you as you stepped out of the sweaty crowd. 

slipping your phone out of your pocket, your eyes nearly popped from your head at the time. two thirty?!

only slightly tipsy, you decided to find jean’s room and call it a night. he’d just have to sleep on the couch. with one hand dragging on the wall, you made your way through the house, past armin who was doing body shots with a couple of strangers, up the stairs and down the dark hall. it was quieter up here, but you could still hear the music and knew it’d be awhile till sleep visited you. 

shoving jean’s door open, you were surprised to see none other than eren laid back on the bed, puffs of smoke coming from his mouth. the strong scent of weed hit your nostrils, nose scrunching up in reflex. he propped himself up on one arm upon your entrance, eyeing you. 

“oh, sorry i’ll just- wait a minute,” you paused, narrowing your eyes at him. “you aren’t supposed to be smoking on your sponsorship.” 

eren let out a loud laugh at that, more smoke spilling from his lungs. “thanks, mom. i know.” 

you stood in the doorway, not really sure what to do. “jean’s gonna be mad if his room smells like weed tomorrow.” 

“yeah, why do you think i chose to do it in here?” he leered, bringing the blunt to his lips and deeply inhaling, sharp cheekbones protruding with the action. you sucked in a breath, not wanting to acknowledge just how gorgeous he was. his jacket was off, black shirt tightly gripping his muscular yet slender arms as he propped himself up. he blew the smoke from his nostrils this time, making your face heat. “wanna hit?”  

you sighed, weighing the options. jean’s bed was a lot more comfortable than connie’s. you could just wait till eren was done, and then pass out. “no, but i’ll wait with you till you’re done.” 

“suit yourself, brat,” eren hummed, flopping back down on the bed as you shut the door behind yourself. you came to sit by him, looking down as he heaved in a sober breath. he really is beautiful, you thought. 

your eyes scanned his face. “you really shouldn’t be smoking, you know. you could lose the sponsorship.” 

eren rolled his teal eyes, giving you a side glance. “i’m aware. i’m also aware that you aren’t going to rat on me.” 

“and what makes you so sure?” you asked playfully, your voice low. eren’s gaze shifted to you, placing the blunt between his lips as he sat up, face inches from yours. 

“because. you can act like you hate me all you want,” smoke blew from his lips as he spoke, slowly inching his face closer to yours. you swallowed, eyes struggling to maintain contact with his dark stare. “but i know how badly you want me.” 

you blinked, heart rate accelerating as he glanced at your lips. “speaking from experience?” 

eren’s mouth quirked up in a smirk at your words. “something like that.”

you watched with desire as he brought the bud of the blunt up to his lips, deeply inhaling the toxic smoke. he lifted his free hand, pointer finger gently tracing your jaw as his thumb came up to caress your chin. he tapped softly against your face, as if asking you to open your mouth. 

you weren’t sure what part of you was wanting to submit to his every move. maybe it was the alcohol. or maybe it was the accumulation of sexual tension. something told you it was a deeper itch that needed to be scratched. an itch only eren could reach. 

you parted your lips, eyes fluttering as eren leaned forward and carefully brushed his own against yours, dumping his lungful of smoke into your mouth. you breathed it in, fighting the urge to cough and whine as he pulled away. 

“good girl,” he breathed, leaning away to snuff the bud out on jean’s bedside table. you heaved out as much as you could, shocked by your own willingness. you were mainly surprised by how much you enjoyed whatever that was. 

you stared at him expectantly as he turned back to you, a serious expression on his face. “eren.” 

“yes?” he asked, leaning heavily on his arm, eyes unashamedly focused on your lips. his other hand came up again, lightly ghosting your jawline. you could feel yourself growing wet between your legs; the way eren was fucking you with his eyes sending an unwelcomed throb to your clit. 

acting on impulse, you lurched forward, latching your lips onto eren’s slightly chapped ones. he wasted no time in kissing you back; hungrily pressing himself closer to your body. his lips were warm and tasted like weed and coca cola, his tongue wiggling its way into your mouth where you happily welcomed it. 

you brought your hand up, wanting to run your fingers through his hair, but were stopped when they got caught in the bun. eren grunted, kissing you harder and bringing his own hand up to yank the tie from his locks, letting his soft hair fall to his shoulders. 

your fingers were quick to glide through the brown strands, scratching his scalp in the process. some throaty sound emitted from his chest, the noise making your cunt ache in need. how is he so hot? 

eren’s hands came to your waist, roughly shoving you down onto the bed, so that he hovered above you. your lips continued to meld together, saliva coated mouths wetly intertwined. you removed your hand from his hair, bringing both hands to run down the expanse of his arms that were on either side of your head. you squeezed his biceps, surprised when he suddenly pulled away. 

“is this okay?” he panted, breaths labored. his pupils were dilated, all seriousness behind his gaze. you nodded your head without hesitation, practically begging him to continue. “words.”

“yes, yes. i want this just as much as you do,” you responded. eren smirked from above you, his dark hair swirling around his face as his key dangled in front of your chin. 

“good, because,” he leaned down to your ear, lightly nibbling the lobe as the cold key rested against your throat. “i’m going to punish you for all these years of torture.” 

your eyes widened, the words sending a desirable chill down your spine. “torture?” 

eren’s hot mouth travelled slowly from your ear down the side of your neck, lightly peppering the skin with lustful kisses. his tongue came out as he reached your collarbone, dragging the wet muscle up the front of your throat, leaving a trail of saliva in its wake. a small whimper involuntarily left your mouth as he pulled back, grabbing your chin in his large hand.  

“all of the nicknames,” he pressed a kiss to your lips. “the quips,” and another, your chest tightening. “the stunt you pulled earlier with your hand. oh god. it’s like you were practically begging me to bend you over and teach you a lesson.” 

he pulled back, dark eyes boring into yours. the desire was palpable, your breathing shallow as he stared at you. it was like he was waiting for some silent agreement. 

you held eye contact, tilting your chin back ever so slightly in his grip. “good thing i learn fast.” 

your words flew straight to his cock, throbbing uncomfortably behind his jeans. eren let go of your chin, his lips hungrily reconnecting with yours as his hands pinned your wrists to either side of your head. his tongue was quick to invite itself into your mouth, warm and erotic. 

you wanted to tug on his hair again; wanted to hear his primal groans and feel him vibrate against your mouth, but you were pinned to the bed. desperate to hear eren moan, your teeth grazed his bottom lip, the action making him yank his head back. 

“tsk tsk, none of that,” he growled, wet lips glinting in the low light of the room. “this is your punishment. guess we’re going to have to do something else.” 

you frowned as he let go of your wrists, lifting himself from the bed and standing. you propped yourself up on your elbows, eyes laced with desire as eren swiftly pulled the black shirt over his head, key pendant resting on his newly exposed chest. he was dangerously attractive like this; dark hair disheveled on his shoulders, only adding to the feral stare he was giving you. 

he leaned forward, grabbing your thighs and yanking you to the end of the bed, legs dangling from the side. you watched in awe as he dropped to his knees, fingers coming up to toy with the button of your jean shorts. 

“these little shorts make your ass look so good,” he grumbled, tapping the button. “be good and take them off for me.” 

you wasted no time in lifting your ass off the bed, struggling to yank the denim down your legs without hitting eren in the face. he watched your every movement, licking his lips as you wiggled them off. 

without thinking, your hands gripped the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head to reveal a black bra. eren’s pupils dilated further at the unexpected sight of your breasts. 

he helped pull the shorts from your ankles, tossing them aside as you sat back down, just in your panties and bra. you paused for a moment, unsure of what he was planning to do. 

“watch me,” he demanded, staring at you through his brows. you nodded your head, breath hitching as he placed an open mouthed kiss to the inside of your thigh, tongue swiping against the smooth skin. 

his eyelashes fluttered as he licked up your leg; just the way he looked at you being enough to have you creaming in your lace panties. your teeth tugged at your bottom lip, the burning in your face mirroring the way your clit throbbed along with your heart beat. 

eren’s tongue trailed until he reached the edge of your underwear, eyes never failing to stay connected with yours. you swallowed as he lifted his head, placing his tongue flatly against your clothed clit. 

it was a warm, muted feeling, your body all too aware of the beautiful man between your legs. eren brought his fingers up, hooking under the fabric and pushing it to the side. 

“so wet for me already,” he hummed, a smile on his face. you blushed in embarrassment, the feeling of his breath on your glistening pool of moisture making you shiver. “’m gonna eat you so good, little bitch.” 

you gasped as eren rapidly brought his face down, burying his head between your legs. the sensation was like no other; a swirling feeling in your stomach as his tongue hungrily swiped against your clit. your hands flew down to his hair, tugging as his lips wrapped around the bud, suckling softly. 

a moan escaped your lips, the sound causing eren to groan out in reply. the vibration of his vocal cords against your center amplifying the pleasure. 

a distinct feeling began to burn in your chest, the sloppiness of eren’s tongue licking up your slick causing your legs to squirm, tightening around his head. “fuck.”

eren pulled back at the pressure against his skull, a smack sounding through the air as he released his suction on your wet cunt. 

“i told you to be good,” he hissed, lips coated in your sheen. you knew the image of eren’s face between your legs, hair disheveled and mouth swollen, eyes dark and lustrous, would be burned into the back of your brain. 

flustered, you nodded your head, spreading your legs so they weren’t pressing against his face. he nodded in content, arms coming up to wrap around your thighs to keep you steady. 

and he was back; eating your pussy like he hadn’t been fed in years, a primal desperation. he pressed his tongue down harder, the cry ripping from your throat at the sensation only egging him on. you struggled against his grip as he abused your clit with his mouth, sucking and tracing his teeth over it so good. 

his tongue slid down to your entrance, shoving itself in without invitation. the fullness wasn’t like having sex; it was a heated, swirling feeling. the wet muscle circled around your spongey walls, your face beginning to burn and hands growing clammy in eren’s hair. 

you threw your head back as his ministrations sped up, your hips attempting to grind into his face. the warmth in the pit of your stomach building like a loaded gun, ready to release itself. 

all it took was the added pressure of his hand wrapping around your thigh so that his thumb could press against your clit, feverishly rubbing. you came crashing down, your eyes screwing shut as the wave of dopamine stretched to every part of your body, legs jerking against his hold. 

eren pulled his head back again, a smile on his wet face as he licked your release from his lips. “tasted so good, so good for me.” 

you breathed out in reply as he came back up above you, gently taking your chin and bringing his mouth down to yours. 

the kiss was small and simple, your eye lids growing heavy. you could taste your bitter release on him, the unfamiliar flavor not completely unpleasant. 

“sleepy?” eren mumbled against your lips, coming back to look at you. you nodded your head, eyes catching on the key that dangled from his neck. “too bad. we aren’t done with your punishment yet.” 

you frowned, your body suddenly more awake than it was before. “huh?” you asked, sitting up as eren shifted to pull his jeans off. 

you weren’t sure what you expected when he yanked both his jeans and boxers down; you guessed you’d always thought his anger issues were compensation for something. the realization dawned on you that eren had nothing to compensate for as his cock sprung from his pants, the sheer size making your mouth water. 

a smirk crossed his face as he stepped from his jeans. “enjoying the view?” 

“what? no,” you scoffed, averting your gaze. eren crawled back over you, his bare length pressing into your stomach as his hands came up to unclasp your bra. 

“don’t be shy, this is your punishment after all,” he whispered, pulling the cups from your chest. his eyes unashamedly scanned your breasts, a smile tugging his lips as he gave them a generous squeeze. 

you tried to ignore the imprint of him on your stomach; but it was nearly impossible. you could feel the spot between your legs grow wet again, arousal already weaseling its way back into your system.

eren brought his lips to yours once again, the kisses much sloppier and desperate than before. he grunted as you shifted to lay back down, his exposed dick rubbing against your stomach. “can’t wait to be inside of you,” he mumbled against your lips. 

you whimpered at his words, his lips melding with your own while he simultaneously tugged your panties down your legs. he propped himself up with one arm, the other positioning the tip of his cock at the entrance of your already throbbing cunt. 

you took a deep breath as he slowly eased himself into you; the sheer stretch making your eyes lull back in your head. eren moved his hips slowly at first, loosening you up. he was watching your expressions; his eyelids heavy and mouth slightly agape. 

“shit, you’re so tight,” he groaned, hips starting to move faster as he gazed down at you. you swallowed, closing your eyes as he sent one particularly hard thrust, cock nearly ramming your cervix. “you good?” 

“mhm,” you responded, bringing your hands up to grab his hair. “just so big.” 

eren let out a breathy chuckle at that, eyes traveling down to your pelvis where his dick was visibly creating a bump with every thrust. he placed his hand on your stomach, pressing down as he bucked his hips violently forwards. he was so deep. 

you cried out at the feeling of his length sliding in and out of your cunt, your walls clenching around him as your hands clawed at his muscular back. 

he was filling you up so good, a moan leaving his lips as your enhanced arousal unexpectedly brought your second orgasm down, tears pricking your eyes. eren kept abusing your pussy, his thrusts growing senseless before he buried himself deep within you, releasing his load inside of your exhausted center. 

both of your breathing was labored, eren looking up at the ceiling. his face was flushed as he recovered, you laying limply beneath him trying to regain your composure yourself. 

“that felt so good,” you admitted, bringing your hand up from his back to caress his angular face. eren frowned at your words, large hand grabbing your wrist and removing it from his jawline. 

“m’not tired yet,” he said seriously, your eyes widening as he placed a chaste kiss to your lips. your fucked out face beneath him had his dick already hardening again. “m’not gonna be tired till i win.” 

he suddenly pulled up, hooking his hands under your knees and pushing your legs up by your head. the action strained your muscles, the feeling of eren’s cum dripping down your ass filling your head as he readied himself to fuck you senseless. 

he stared at your cunt; at the way his cum was oozing out of it, the abused pussy ready to take him in again. he used his fingers to catch the drip, forcing it back inside of you. the thought of filling you up all nice and pretty sent him over the edge, his hand shamelessly guiding his cock back inside of you.

eren was meaner this time; each thrust was deep and deliberate, hitting your cervix and making you cry out in pleasure. the burning sensation in your clit was overwhelming, your mouth hanging open as eren slowly fucked you stupid. 

“good, pretty girl” eren breathed out, ramming his hips into yours. “took her punishment like such a good girl.” 

you tried to nod your head, but you couldn’t move. the feeling of hot, sticky tears rolled down your face, eren’s cock deep within you almost too much to bear. he grabbed your chin, tongue swiping up your cheek as he savored the salty flavor on his tastebuds. this man and his licking. 

“tell me, did you learn your lesson?” eren grunted in your ear, hand still gripping your chin. you tried to form a sentence, fucked beyond words. “hm, use your words and i’ll let you cum.” 

one more deep thrust and his dick stopped its strokes, pausing within you. “yes... yes.” 

“yes what?” 

your tongue was heavy in your mouth, pussy all too aware of eren’s length within it. “i learned my lesson, you won.” 

he smirked, aggressively bucking his hips into your weak cunt, the action making you cry out as he rammed your cervix. the tears continued to roll down your cheeks as eren’s dick twitched, spurting the his seed into you. your third release followed his, your clit spasming from the overstimulation. 

eren heaved himself out of you, collapsing deftly onto the bed. the two of you sat in a heated silence, your face sticky from the tears. eren glanced to you, eyes trailing down your body. 

“i’ll get a rag,” he mumbled, shoving off the bed and walking into jean’s bathroom. you were beyond exhausted and knew that you’d be sore tomorrow. eren reemerged, quickly cleaning you up and handing you your shirt. 

your eyes lazily watched him as he walked over and locked the door; brain too tired to form a sentence. 

he must’ve noticed your concern. “we can sleep in here tonight; i don’t think you’re in any shape to move.” 

you carefully crawled into the sheets, not even bothering to put your shirt back on. eren followed suit, climbing in behind you. 

“night,” he whispered as he shut the bedside light off. your lids were growing heavy, a smile on your lips as you began to fall asleep. 

“night, casanova.” 

<3 <3 <3