#because it forces carrie to have to live with the fact that she is the kind of person who would do something like this

[agnireed]

Rainfall

summary 🏹 you've convinced yourself daryl hates you and that only increases when you have to go on a run together

word count 🏹 9.8k

warnings 🏹 large age gap, daryl and reader are embarrassingly bad at feelings, slow burn, slightly ooc side characters (maggie and beth)

thank you to @sparklytyphoondaze for the suggested prompt!

You had almost started to think you were going crazy right alongside the state of the world. 

There wasn’t any other person, before or after that fall, that could bring you to the level of confusion and anger that Daryl Dixon managed to without fail every time you were forced to speak to each other. It was made even worse by the fact you had no idea what about you got him so upset.

You contributed to the group whenever you were needed and then some, you had never once insulted him or even sent a mean look his way unprompted and there was certainly no stand out event that had seared this bitterness into his mind. 

It seemed like he just hated you for no reason at all and this drove you insane in a way that you wish it didn’t. You didn’t necessarily fall under the belief that everybody had to like you but it really rubbed you the wrong way that somebody had decided they didn’t just because of the way you were.

At first you had figured it had to do with your young age but he didn’t sneer at Beth the same way he did with you and nobody else seemed to agree with your assumption whenever you pried them for any known information. 

You certainly had too much time on your hands these days at the prison because you had gone full blown investigator mode to try and figure out what you had been doing so wrong.

Maybe you reminded him of somebody from his past that he had a hard time with or possibly he found annoyance in the fact you managed to carry your love for all things pink and cute over into the apocalypse with you. You felt ridiculous for actually taking this to heart and you frowned at yourself in the mirror when you pulled a particularly beige tank top over your head instead of your typical blush colored ones. 

Daryl wasn’t going out of his way to be mean to you or specifically targeting you when he didn’t have to but a slightly annoyed glance from the man was enough to rattle you for the rest of the day, for reasons you didn’t really understand.

You prided yourself on being pretty tough and there was a lot you could handle before you even felt a twinge of upset but not when it came to the stoney archer. 

He was easy enough to ignore but that was full blown impossible whenever it came to Rick allowing you to do anything the other group members did. He would scoff angrily under his breath and storm off when you were assigned to go on a run and you’d see them having heated discussions whenever you were put on gate duty for long shifts. 

It was clear to you that he didn’t find you capable of helping out and although he never outwardly said it you knew that he felt uneasy trusting the lives of the others in your hands, marking you as a liability even though you’d never so much as tripped on a run let alone endangered people you considered family. 

“Am I really that bad?” You would have felt ridiculous for being so whiny but you knew Beth and Maggie were used to you coming into a cell with this exact tone by now. You had seen the look they shared when you flopped down onto the bed with a groan and now your eyebrows furrowed as you sat back up to face them. “What was that look?”

The younger of the sisters fell silent and she looked almost like she was holding in a laugh as she watched the side of Maggie’s face and waited for her to say whatever it was they were silently communicating. 

“Nothing honey it’s just…” Her familiar light twang was doing very little to soothe your worry and annoyance and you leaned in closer as she took a second to pause and stifle a building laugh. “Are you wearing brown?”

You froze as you processed her words before glancing down at the shirt you had thrown on today and groaning at the same time Beth was finally letting out an actual laugh. The sight of you in anything this shade was certainly unfamiliar and clearly a big enough deal that it was all they could focus on right now, ignoring your question you had originally asked in favor of making fun of you. 

“I don’t think his issue with you is you being girly.” Beth had a voice that couldn’t sound anything but sweet even if she tried so you took her statement as genuine reassurance even if she was still attempting to tease you. 

The pair had long been subjected to your ramblings about the older man and every little biting remark or disinterested stare he sent your way and they were just as stumped as you. Although they provided no solution for your issue it was still comforting to know you weren’t making it up and other people had noticed his distaste for you.

You sulked back to your own cell only an hour or two after joining the sisters and listening to them ramble about their own problems and thoughts, commonly occurring sessions where you could all get some things off your chest. It was a nice dynamic and you often felt touched by how easily they had brought you into the fold of their sisterly bond. 

Everybody in the group felt the same to you, love and trust apparent between each of you and then all together as a whole. There is nothing you wouldn’t do for the people inside these walls and you felt no doubt in them doing whatever it would take for you in return if and when you needed it. 

There was only one exception to this feeling and you were growing more and more frustrated by his refusal to bond with you, even if it was surface level.

You didn’t think Daryl would leave you without water if you were dying of thirst but you figured if it was in a high tree he might just tell you it wasn’t worth the effort.

Your theory was most likely going to be tested in some shape because Rick was approaching you the next day to tell you in the most stern voice he could muster that you would be going on a run. You could tell from the look in his eye that he was telling you this way because a certain somebody would be tagging along but you expected that it was just going to be the two of you on your own.

“Ain’t happening.” Daryl seemed just as dejected as you did at the news but Rick had apparently given him alot less time to be upset about it considering the words flying from his mouth when he saw you and your leader approaching him on his bike, already loaded up and at the gate ready to go. 

You sighed at the realization you were a surprise guest, annoyance in your gut knowing this would only further his hatred towards you.

“Who would you prefer?” Rick was spitting back at him in a half whisper like it would save you from being able to hear. You were even more hurt at the way he phrased it, clearly letting you in on the fact they had had this conversation before. “The cars can’t get through, not on that route.”

“I can ride a bike.” You weren’t sure why you had tried to help out with the slightly useless piece of information, knowing neither of them would ever let you go by yourself on a run let alone with Daryl’s bike. If either of them seemed surprised by the fact then they didn’t show it but his sneer turned to you faster than you could retract your suggestion. 

“Like hell you will.” He said it so harshly that you were almost taken back by it. He was never kind to you but it certainly hadn’t gotten to this point in quite some time and your eyes flashed with surprise as you took a few steps backwards so you were further behind Rick.

He watched you for a breath or two after that and you almost thought you saw regret passing over his face even though it was gone as quickly as it came once he faced Rick again. You were pushing yourself further back with another sigh so they could quickly have their biting conversation and get it over with. 

You’d already done the checklist in your head and realized there truly was nobody else who could both be on the back of his bike and also perform well in a run and it was only a matter of time before he understood that too. He was an asshole but he wasn’t unreasonable and you knew he wouldn’t completely abandon a run just because he didn’t want you coming along.

Your theory proved correct because soon enough you were settling yourself on the seat behind him and smiling tightly at Rick when he placed a hand on your arm, silently wishing you good luck with a firm nod.

You did your best to ignore his grumbles for you to hold on and luckily you had grown up on a bike and weren’t saying that for no reason so it was easy enough to sit still and not disturb him. There was a deeper bratty part of you that wanted to softly rock side to side just enough to get his attention and annoy him but you decided against it.

If he was going to dislike you then you wanted it to be a complete reflection of his poor character and nothing to do with you.

He was surprisingly docile for most of the long ride and even let you take a break on the side of the road midway through so you could both stretch your legs and avoid cramping up by the time you got there and actually had to be on high alert. 

“It’s a nice bike.” You felt stupid for speaking as soon as you heard the sound of your own voice and saw his head snapping up to look at you.

He was crouching down near it like he was investigating an issue but you knew he was just pretending to be busy to avoid the awkward silence or having to talk to you, two things that were currently happening thanks to your lack of impulse control.

“Sorry.” You were sighing and awkwardly looking away from him, taking a few steps closer to the tree line because how uneasy his strong gaze was making you feel. A rush of embarrassment overtook you and you strangely felt like you were going to tear up for some reason, pushing some loose rocks with your foot and glancing down the road. 

“S’all good.” He was finally responding and your eyes widened in surprise, glad to see he had looked away again just in time and didn’t see your reaction. “Was my brothers.”

“I remember.” Your voice was soft because you had actually known where the bike came from just from hearing him mention it a handful of times and you also knew enough to know why he tensed at the reminder that you had actually met his brother.

Daryl hadn’t been as docile then in his anger both towards you and everybody else and it felt like you got left behind with Merle on that rooftop when he decided to let down some of his walls and start trusting people. You weren’t a part of that equation which confused you even more now that you started to recall the earliest days of your meeting.

You had been pretty much the sole target of Merle’s disgusting rants about the women in the camp, making comments in passing about the others but really locking in on you whenever you were in his line of sight. He switched between degrading you and your ability to keep up with him and the men with you to just as quickly cat calling you and encouraging you to join him in camp.

There was a quickly built resentment towards him and his brother but the latter faded when you would catch Daryl defending you when he assumed you were out of earshot, at least the best he could without enraging his brother. 

He would tell him to leave you alone when he noticed his brother's hazy eyes zoning in on you like he wanted to approach or make a quick comment about how you were too young for him to be perving on you. All mild attempts to derail Merle’s small attention span but you appreciated the effort considering it was much more than the other men around camp would do and they didn’t have a reason to be cautious of the wild man like Daryl did.

That had all changed when Rick showed up and you felt a surge of hope as soon as you heard him addressing the group for the first time, solid and sturdy in his words even when he was allowing Shane to still bark the orders and have control.

You knew from the first day that you finally had somebody to take lead over your dire situation and you knew men like Merle Dixon would never bother you again.

No part of you thought Daryl was similar to his brother in any way but you still felt the same hurt regardless if it was intentional from his end. 

“C’mon.” He wasn’t giving you a response to what you had said and you were glad he hadn’t, much preferring the loud hum of the bike to help quiet your endless thoughts. 

This time he didn’t completely tense up when you were circling your hands around his waist and you were weirdly finding some comfort knowing he was with you when you thought back on those days at the quarry. Was there a different world where Daryl didn’t dislike you and kept up the protective streak he’d shown back then or was that sincerely a complete one off?

You wondered if it would be weird to ask him directly about what you had done to upset him, both bringing it to reality for the first time and also exposing yourself for caring way more than you should about what he thought.

It might have been an age thing that led you to not only not wanting to disappoint him but you found yourself actively wanting to impress him and catch his attention. Even an interested gaze rather than an annoyed one would probably make your day at this point and you found yourself ridiculous for the tenth time since you left the prison just a few hours ago.

There was the same urge in you when it came to Rick and Hershel, even Glenn occasionally although you looked towards him more as a brother while the latter two reminded you of that fatherly connection you’d always seeked out.

You felt warmed whenever Hershel checked in on you and softly told you to take better care of your health and you’d do just about anything Rick asked of you as long as it meant he was proud of you and felt you were a good addition to the group.

Your nose scrunched up at the thought of thinking towards Daryl in any type of fatherly way and you quickly scratched that idea off your endless boards of guesses.

Luckily he was pulling to a stop before you could jot down anything else in your mental notebook and you glanced around your surroundings for just a second before you were bracing your hands on his shoulders and swinging your leg over his bike, landing flat on your feet with a little groan.

The muscles in your thighs were tight from the stretch and constant tensing to brace yourself around turns and debris in the road and you imagine he was feeling a similar pain judging by the face he made when he roughly kicked the stand down to steady the bike.

You silently watched him as he covered it in light shrubbery, opting to stay out of his way and let him do whatever it was he felt like he needed. It was always simpler to wait for him to tell you what to do instead of doing it on your own and dealing with him getting angry and correcting you. 

He whistled lowly and started to walk away from you and you took the wordless cue easily, following behind with a hand on your knife holster and your eyes sharp to your surroundings. 

There was no amount of huffing and puffing from him that would make you think you were a liability out in nature. You didn’t have as quick of reflexes as he did and there was no way you’d ever catch up in terms of survival skills but you were good at handling yourself and extremely light on your feet.

Luckily there was a lack of complaints from him today as the two of you approached the small strip mall quietly and fast, half crouched in a way that made your knees ache as you followed behind him. 

He stopped too abruptly behind an abandoned car for you to notice and you bumped into his back, immediteyly reaching out in an attempt to steady him and he turned his head to glare at you over his shoulder. The walker growls in the distant stopped you from verbally apologizing but you hoped he could see it in your eyes.

That must have annoyed him enough that he decided you shouldn’t be behind him and out of sight, shaking your hands off of him before taking a few low steps back and nudging you forward.

You sighed at his clear lack of forgiveness but focused on the task at hand and made sure the area was clear before moving forward and finally reaching the buildings. You could see one of the windows were busted as you pushed yourself against the wall and you glanced at him once he reached you.

He was as close to you as he ever probably had been and you took a few seconds to watch the way his built chest was rising and falling with heavy breaths, shoulders pressed to yours and face blank as he glanced at you.

“Walkers.” You more mouthed the words than actually spoke and his gaze dropped to your lips.

You felt incredibly stupid and thrown off when you felt a heat rising to your cheeks at the action. You knew he was simply trying to read you lips and not looking at you for any other reason but your brain apparently decided today that you enjoyed the idea of him looking at you like that. 

It was probably the worst possible moment to be hit with the fact that you wanted him to think about you in that way, your entire body freezing up when you pieced together why exactly you yearned for his approval. It certainly wasnt fatherly at all because you apparently had a crush on Daryl Dixon.

“What the hell are you doing?” His raspy voice hissing at you defiantelty wasnt helping you in your moment of understanding but your eyes widened realizing he had been trying to tell you something while you were frozen. “C’mon girl, move.”

You were quick to nod your head to show him you processed the demand and then he was gone, turning the corner and pushing his way into the building. He must have had a good idea of how many walkers were inside and you werent sure if that was something he had figured out silently or if that was another piece of dialogue you had msised in your dilemma.

He didnt seem at all bothered while taking the three still up and walking around out and you watched him silently, not daring to get in the way when he was swinging his crossbow around and taking off heads. He was still breathing heavily when he turned to check on your whereabouts and this time you could see some anger beneath the exhaustion. 

The flush still on your cheeks was now being partnered with a heat in your gut and you realized just how fucked you actually were.

When had this happened and why did it take you so long to realize what this actually was? How did you manage to delude yourself into thinking it was normal that you were hanging off his every word and going over your small interactions dozens of times.

You’d even thrown on this hideously colored shirt thinking he might like it better than your normal wardrobe and you’d actually been upset when he hadn’t glanced twice at it earlier.

He was furrowing his eyebrows and you assumed he was half a second before asking you what the hell you were staring at but he didnt get a chance considering his eyes were darting over your shoulder with a look of panic that let you know exactly what he saw.

You didn’t even hear the growl of the walker behind you before you were gripping the handle of your knife and attempting to spin around but it was already too late and it was taking you to the ground so hard your head smacked against the old wood and your knife was being thrown somewhere too far for you to reach.

“Daryl.” Your voice was a high pitched screech as you desperately shot one hand out to attempt to grip anything that would allow you to kill the raging walker while your other one was pressed tightly around its shoulder to try and keep its clamping jaw away from your face.

It was so close you could hear the moisture in its mouth and feel its breath on your cheek, a whimper leaving you as you felt its hands on your body trying to find any soft bit of flesh to grip its claw into. 

The walker was falling limb ontop of you and although only a few seconds had passed since youd fallen, it felt like an hour of struggling with its strength and your entire life flashing before your eyes. You’d been in close call situations before but never something like this and you knew you would’ve been dead if Daryl hadn’t been here or even in the same room.

You were breathing heavily and shame hit you at the same time a heavy sob did, fully processing what almost just happened because you hadnt been paying attention to your surroundings. 

“Fuck.” Your voice was pained with a groan as you tried to life the waker off of you but it was large in size, possibly taller than Daryl and without a doubt heavier. It was lifted off of you as soon as you started to struggle and you were only half surprised to see his face looking down at you as he easily removed it.

For once he didn’t look cold or emotionless as he looked at you, a similar panic on his face as he crouched down beside you and scanned over your neck and face for any sign of a bite. 

You were about to reassure him that you hadn’t been bit but he was cutting you off by pushing your shirt halfway up your stomach, revealing so much bare skin that you felt almost shy even though you knew he was just checking you for scratches once he realized where the walker had its hands.

He didn’t dare touch your exposed stomach but his gaze was heated as he looked around your heaving ribs, pausing when he saw small pink marks on your waist.

“It’s okay right?” You sounded panicked as you sat up slightly to inspect it with him, your hand smoothing over the discoloration and feeling only a bit relieved when you didnt feel any signs of it being indented. “He just grabbed me tightly but he didn’t scratch.”

“Let’s go.” His voice was low and cold and he was standing halfway before gripping your forearm and tugging you up with him, starting to drag you towards the door.

You were frowning and shaking your head, looking back at your abandoned knife on the floor and placing a hand on the doorframe to stop him from pulling you. You knew he still easily could have removed you if he wanted but you both understood there was no way to get back on a motorcycle with an unwillingly particpant. 

It wasn’t as simple as throwing you in a car and shutting the door and your other hand came up to grab his wrist.

“We can’t leave.” Your voice was more pleading than argumentative, wanting him to see you were still willing and eager to follow his directions if it meant staying. “We haven’t even looked around yet. Theyre counting on us.”

“Nah. I’ll circle back tomorrow with Maggie.” He was steely in his answer and didn’t even seem to process what you were trying to tell him. He had clearly made up his mind and your eyes were desperate as you stared at him.

“I’m sorry for not paying attention.” It was your second time apologizing for something that wasn’t your fault and this seem to strike a particular nerve with him because he was fully turning towards you and letting go of your arm so he could point at you angrily. 

“You almost died, we’re leaving.” He was making a move for the door again and a wave of panic went through you, halfway thinking he might leave you there if you didn’t join him. He was leaving no room for argument and the look he gave you when you grabbed his shoulder made ice shoot through your veins.

He didn’t seem to understand why you couldn’t bare just leaving and going back to the prison empty handed. Did he not realize that there was nothing you feared more than disappointing your group members, not even a walker practically breathing down your throat could rattle you the way that could. 

His shoulders lost some of the tension when he saw the look on your face and you suddenly wanted to shout at him and ask him what his problem was, demand he tell you why he had been so endlessly cruel to you for so long. 

But now you were wondering if he actually had been or if you were simply throwing an internal fit because he didn’t give you an overt amount of attention, doubting your own reality now that you had fully accepted that you might have a stupid crush on the older man.

You had fresh tears joining your dried streaks now, cutting through the dirt on your face almost comically and he was biting the inside of his cheek like he couldn’t figure out how to comfort you right now or atleast make you stop crying.

Finally he was sighing and nodding his head so quick you almost missed it, pushing past you so he could venture further into the shop and silently let you know that you were getting what you wanted and continuing the run.

You made sure to push down any thoughts of him for the rest of the trip so you could focus on getting what you needed without endangering yourself again and you actually managed to get quite a big chunk of the stuff on the necessity list, even grabbing some extra fun things for Carl and a top you thought Beth might like. 

An hour or so had passed when Daryl made his way back to you and you could feel him watching you as you rifled through the clothing rack, not turning to face him and instead letting him approach you for once. 

“Suits you.” His light tone shocked you enough that you let go of the pink sleeve you were inspecting on the hanger. You had expected him to make a snide comment about you wasting time looking at clothes instead of finding something useful but apparently he had run out of the energy to argue with you.

“Because its childish?” You had humor in your voice with your response but it wasnt genuine, more so trying to deliver the punch line before he could. 

“Nah, just suits you.” He didn’t play into your accidental bait and you narrowed your eyes at him before sighing and pulling the pink sweater off the rack, dusting it off before dragging it over your head and the brown shirt you were wearing.

You figured you looked a bit puffy with the double layering and it was far too hot for the thick fabric but you held your hands out like you were presenting the outfit to him and although he didnt laugh, you thought you heard him lightly scoff at your display.

 

You finished stuffing your gifts for the others into your already full bag before joining him as he moved further into the large building, side by side as you followed the range of his flashlight with your eyes. 

“Why’re you wearing that shit anways?” He surpised you by still trying to make conversation and you starting to wonder if he had been the one to hit his head earlier, glancing at him just to find he was already watching you from the corner of his eye.

At first you thought he meant the sweater but you realized he meant your original outfit, heat once again rising to your cheeks when you pieced together that he had actually noticed your change in color scheme. 

You weren’t exactly sure how to explain that you had done it to appear more mature for him without making a complete fool of yourself so you opted for shrugging your shoulders and remaining silent, letting him figure it out for himself like you so often had to.

“Someone say something to you?” He paused in his stride and you turned back to look at him in confusion, furthering when you saw the twitch in his jaw and that same cold look in his eyes. This time it didn’t seem directed at you but that didn’t help you figure out the situation in the slightest. 

“Like what?” Your voice was still soft and almost a whisper, like you were guiding to him towards actually giving you an answer to something for once. Your head slightly titled and the movement made him take another step back for some reason, almost like he was afraid of you. “Like how I dress like a toddler? Or maybe something about being a walking signal for walkers?”

It almost took him a few seconds into your sentences to realize you were repeating back to him things he had said before, quick comments made in fits of anger that he clearly hadn’t thought you’d take to heart let alone remember word for word. You scoffed at his taken back reaction and nodded your head bitterly, tightening your grip on your backpack strap and moving towards the exit.

If he was bothered by you leaving him behind in the dark building then he didn’t show it on his face but you felt regret for doing it as soon as you were outside by yourself, standing next to his bike impatiently and waiting for him to join you. 

Thunder cracked in the distance as soon as his foot hit the dirt and both of you paused to look at eachother, dread growing in you knowing what he was thinking before he even had to say it.

You were groaning loudly and lugging your stuff back inside, bumping his shoulder on your way in. You both knew you wouldn’t be able to ride home that long with a storm coming so you had no choice but to spend the night in the same building you had nearly died in a few hours prior with a man who wanted nothing to do with you.

He was outside for atleast thirty minutes and you figured he was hiding his bike somewhere more secure or possibly checking the perimeter now that you were going to be letting your guards down a bit to get some rest.

You could hear rain drops hitting the windows before he came back inside and although they were light, you knew he must be getting damp out there. You sighed as you made your way to the clothing racks to find him something to dry to wear, telling yourself you were only doing the kind gesture because you were restless.

“Y/N?” His voice was loud and panicked when he closed the door behind him, not seeing you anywhere near the entrance and finding your bag left behind on the floor. “Damn it.”

Your eyes rolled when he initally called your name and you almost planned to ignore him but you still couldn’t find it in yourself to be unnecessarily rude so you gathered the clothes and headed back towards the front.

His body relaxed slightly when he saw you coming out of the dark but he froze again when his gaze dropped down to the fabric in your hands, watching you as you got so close your boots touched before you were pushing it against his wet chest and raising an eyebrow.

“You’ll catch a cold playing in the rain like that.” You let your tone be slightly mocking but it was lighthearted enough that he wouldn’t bother taking offense at you making fun of him for staying outside. He mumbled a thank you but didn’t stop staring down at you.

You wondered if he was slightly flattered by you doing such a domestic act for him or if he didn’t care at all, deciding on the former so you could let yourself have atleast one small win after such a rough day. You cleared your throat before turning around and allowing him some privacy while changing. 

Picking up on him moving a few more feet away, you entire body was still flushing when you heard the telltale signs of him changing clothes. 

There was a large part of you that tried to squeeze your eyes closed and think of something totally unrelated but the smaller portion won by a landslide and you let yourself think about what he might look like without clothes on. 

You were no stranger to the sight of his arms, large and rippling with muscle everytime he drew his crossbow or swung his knife. You knew he was older and more mature than boys you had been with before the fall, most likely with hair trailing down his stomach where they had been smooth and rounder around the sections of his ribs.

Your fidgeting was extremely apparent to anybody in the room and you were unlucky enough that it was just the two of you.

In no time Daryl was mumbling that you were good to turn around and moving to start a small enough fire that it wouldn’t reach the high ceiling and could be ventilated through the broken windows. You ignored the sight of his messy and damp hair falling into his eyes and especially forgot about how much your chest heaved at the way he looked in the clothes you’d picked for him.

It wasn’t much different from what he would usually wear, you had made sure of that so he wouldn’t reject your gesture but you simply found it notable that it was something you had picked for him. 

A few more hours were passing of you sitting in silence and listening to the rain outside for any sign of it stopping, grateful when he finally sighed and pulled out the little food you had packed, seemingly accepting your fate of staying overnight. 

The sun had long set by the time he was clearing his throat like he was going to finally say something and your eyes met his across the fire, holding the gaze tightly so he didn’t change his mind.

“Sorry about before.” He shocked you even more with the words coming from his mouth and your eyebrows raised, your arms wrapped around your knees where you’d been resting your head before he spoke. 

You weren’t sure what exactly he was trying to apologize for, the list of possible offenses longer than you think he even realized. You imagined it was between trying to make you abandon the run and you bringing up what he had said about the way you dressed, maybe a mix of both so he could kill two awkward birds with one big hesitant stone like apology. 

“It’s all good.” You were shrugging and you wondered if he at all cared that you had lost your usual friendly tone in favor of mimicking his cold and emotionless one. “Kinda my fault anyways, always trying to get your attention.”

You don’t know why you said it and you were even more confused why you didn’t immediately want to take it back. Maybe saying it out loud could make you feel better but you imagined you’d be wishing you saved it for a kinder audience like Maggie and Beth whenever he responded to you. 

Braving a look in his direction, you softly laughed seeing the confusion on his face. He almost looked a bit hurt and guarded like he thought you might be making fun of him which you didn’t fully understand why he would go to that conclusion.

“You don’t have to pretend you didn’t notice Daryl.” You were smiling softly now and although you were mostly baiting him, the pink on your cheeks was still very much real.

Truthfully, you hadn’t assumed that he had caught onto your crush on him because you barely had until now and Daryl didn’t seem to be the type of man that went around guessing when people liked him. 

Infact he seemed the most thrown off guard you’d ever seen him when he realized what you were trying to say and the red on his cheeks was almost enough to rival yours. You coughed just to fill the silence when you accepted he wasn’t planning to respond to you and you tried to ignore the deafening sounds of his shifting in place. 

The two of you stayed silent until the fire started to die out and by then you were laying on your back, staring up on the ceiling and bringing you could feel to rain falling down on you. It was heavy by now and you figured the storm was directly above you at this point, almost thankful for the thunder and lightning as it masked the sounds of Daryl’s light breathing.

He was laying down too and despite him being on the other side of the fire, it still managed to feel strangely intimate. 

It was likely that he was closer lying in the cell next to yours on the nights he decided it was better than the perch but now there was no stone wall between you and you could see the outline of his face whenever you turned your head to see if he had fallen asleep yet. 

The darkness was making it hard to see from that distance but the light of the fire was just visible enough for you to catch the fact he was glancing over at you too and you quickly looked away. You were firm in your stare at the ceiling now and you hoped the feeling of his eyes on you still was just your imagination. 

“I like the pink.” His voice was breaking through the silence but not loud enough to be completely jarring, low and whispered like he didn’t want to disturb you with the confession. Maybe he didn’t want you to hear him at all. “Meant it, it suits you.”

“You don’t think I look ridiculous?” You were teasing him now and it was obvious, your voice light and gentle again. 

“Nah, never did. Just an asshole.” His flat voice made you snort a laugh and you could have sworn you heard him chuckling in return. You stayed quiet for a bit longer and tried to find a way to not place meaning behind what he was telling you. 

It could be as simple as him not wanting any bad blood between the two of you considering you had to live together for most likely the rest of your lives, regardless if that was days or years. Or maybe he had felt bad about hurting your feelings because Daryl certainly wasn’t cruel for no reason and you knew he had a better heart than most, even if it took seeing you reduced to tears to finally apologize.

“I almost died today.” Your voice was still soft but for different reasons now and you turned to look at him again, wincing when you noticed he’d gone rigid. He was resting his head on one of his arms and the other was palm down on his stomach, moving lightly with every breath he took. “After all this time I think I forgot that I could. Maybe it’s good to get a reminder.”

He didn’t say anything for a while again and you almost wanted to sigh even though you just knew it was in his nature to not speak much. You actually liked that about him on any other day, he was easy to read when he wanted to be and he wore his emotions on his sleeve if you paid enough attention which apparently you did. 

“Not gonna let that happen.” Sometimes he said things that made you wish he wouldn’t speak because you werent sure how you were supposed to take him saying something like that. You had practically spelled out the fact you liked him a few hours ago and now he was declaring to personally keep you alive. 

“You cant know that.” You had decided to sit up before you finished speaking, wanting to feel more in control of the conversation even if it meant being able to see him more clearly now that you could easily see him over the fire. 

“Be alot easier if you stayed at the damn prison.” He sounded annoyed again but you could tell it wasn’t actually directed at you in a meaningful way. 

“Is that why you keep telling Rick I shouldn’t go on runs?” You hadnt even realized you came to that conclusion until you were asking it and you suddenly felt very stupid for thinking that he had been doubting your survival skills all this time. Although it wasnt solely your fault because you wouldve agreed alot easier to stay back if you knew he was simply worried about you. “Why didnt you tell me that?”

He scoffed like your question was ridiculous and now it was your turn to be annoyed with him. You were standing from your spot on the floor and moving over to him, sitting beside where he was still laying flat. This was probably the closest youd ever been to him intentionally not to mention this most likely being your longest conversation to date but he was finally giving you some answers now. 

“Wouldn’t matter anyways now would it. Too damn stubborn.” He sounded completely bored by your conversation and your mouth dropped at him vaguely confirming that he had been trying to keep you back to protect you. 

“I thought you hated me.” You practically squeaked it out and suddenly he seemed alot more alert, turning his head to look at you fully and clearly trying not to pay attention to how close you were sitting. 

You were on your knees next to him and your hands slapped down onto your thighs dramatically with an almost manic laugh as your entire point of view shifted. 

“Why would I hate you?” He asked it like the thought genuinely hadnt crossed his mind and you could have screamed in frustration. 

“Then why-” You thought of all of his heated glances and the way he avoided touch from you specifically, teasing remarks about the smallest details of how you dressed and now the added fact that he hadn’t wanted you to face the dangers of going on runs especially ones he wasn’t going on. “Oh my god, you have a crush on me.”

You should have felt ridiculous for the way you were practically gleaming with realization as you pointed at him like you had cracked open a decade long cold case. He raised an eyebrow at you and your theatrics before he was scoffing and looking back up at the roof like the conversation wasn’t making his heart race. 

“Ain’t got a crush.” He felt almost shy saying the word and thankfully you were close enough to see the way his flush had returned tenfold and the fidgeting of his hands against the vest he’d thrown back over the shirt you picked for him.

“But you like me?” You were overdoing it now but you felt almost drunk with giddiness now that you knew he hadn’t been icing you out all along. Daryl was simply just shy and clearly terrible at showcasing when he had feelings for somebody but you almost couldn’t blame him considering you’d nearly died seconds after realizing it for yourself. “You think I’m totally cute.”

Now you were really pushing it and he brought his gaze back to you just to make sure you could see the exasperation in his expression although now you were so high on the accidental confession you were tricking yourself into thinking he looked fondly amused.

“I’ve spent all this time thinking you hated me, why didn’t you just-” You were just starting to question his lack of forwardness but you silently answered it for yourself before you even finished. “Oh.”

You’d somehow manage to forget that there was easily twenty years between you and Daryl, if not more than that (you didn’t think now was a good time to ask him exactly how old he was). He looked almost sheepish now that you seemed to recall this obvious fact and you could tell he had thought about it alot more than you had.

A quietness took over the room again and you halfway noted that it sounded like the rain had finally started to slow to a stop. You were shifting in place and adjusting yourself in a way that you could more comfortably lean forward to practically force him to look at you.

“I don’t think it matters.” You were whispering now like somebody was going to overhear you and now his glare actually had some real heat behind it.

“Like hell it don’t.” He sounded frustrated that you were even talking about it let alone attempting to pretend it wasn’t an issue.

Now you were truly curious how long he had been thinking about this and it suddenly made alot more sense to you why he constantly seemed to be avoiding you. Not out of anger towards you but possibly towards the fact there was no world in which he could be with you in that way.

“I wouldn’t tell anybody.” You immediately regretting saying it as soon as you saw the way he froze up, the words being whispered into the air painting a much different tone than you had originally intended. 

It made it sound like it was some dirty secret you would need to keep due to how wrong it was but you had meant it genuinely, wanting him to know you’d be okay with taking your time letting the others know until it was something even worth noting. 

Now you truly felt like you’d gone crazy because what were you even talking about here? Did he have real feelings for you or was it just basic lust for a younger girl wandering around in pink tanktops, did it even matter regardless considering how disgusted he seemed now?

He was sitting up with a grunt and rising to his feet, giving you one last glare before he was storming outside with a mumble about needing a smoke. You stayed there on the floor staring at where his body had just been and a wave of shame washed over you.

You tried to calm yourself by thinking that you could fix it once he came back inside and relaxed a little, giving you a second to explain what you meant and what you had been thinking. You didn’t want him to see you as some stupid little girl that couldn’t keep her mouth shut. 

Daryl took this plan and crushed it considering he didn’t ever come back in and you laid there staring at the body of the walker who had almost killed you earlier, watching it until you managed to fade off into a nearly restless sleep while he sat outside and counted down the minutes until you could leave.

----

The next morning couldn’t have been more awkward if you tried.

You’d practically thrown yourself outside when you had waken up and didn’t see him still, stumbling onto the dirt with your eyes wide with panic. You looked towards the bush where his bike had been and felt your throat tighten at the realization he had actually left you there.

Then you heard shuffling behind you and whipped around to see him watching you from the treeline, half concerned and half blank like he couldn’t decide which side of him to show you now. 

Your half awake brain slowly remembered that he had moved his bike before the storm last night and you could tell by the line of something furry over his shoulder that he had been out hunting before you started to head home. 

You could guess by where the sun sat in the sky that he had actually let you sleep in a bit and suddenly you were itching to get back to the prison, hand to your forehead as you made your way back in silently to gather your stuff and head back out. 

You felt embarrassed that he had seen you so distressed over the thought of being left alone but you figured you were way past the point of return with the amount of humiliating things that had happened in the last 24 hours so it didn’t really matter. 

There was no overestimating how bad it felt to climb onto the back of his bike and wrap your arms around him for endless hours while also knowing he most likely wanted to be as far away from you as possible right now.

The sight of the prison would normally leave a slight distaste in your mouth but right now it was the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen and it only got better when you saw a familiar head of blonde hair near the gates, clearly hearing the sounds of the bike and waiting for your arrival.

You felt a rush of emotion seeing your friend and you were rushing off the bike before he even had time to steady himself, meeting her halfway in a hug and trying to ignore how weird your reaction seemed to anybody else. You had only been gone a night but it felt like an entire year had passed in that building. 

She was quick to make small talk as you headed in together and you were grateful for the distraction, glancing behind your shoulder back at him only to look away quickly when you found him already looking. 

It wasn’t until you were hidden behind the walls of your cell that you let the frown take over your expression and Beth faltered in her ramblings, watching your shoulders slump as you threw your bag carelessly in the corner. 

“Oh honey. I know that expression.” You hadn’t even realized Maggie was standing in the entryway of your cell until you heard her warm voice full of concern and pity. Beth sent her a curious glance and she sighed softly. “She’s heartbroken.”

“You told him?” Beth gasped the words loudly and both you and Maggie rushed to shush her, your hands covering her mouth while her sister moved fully into the cell like the sheet covering the doorway behind her would at all mask the sound of your gossip.

“You knew?” You were already frustrated and it was obvious in your tone, looking between the two of them with an accusatory glare that they matched with confusion. “You both knew this entire time?”

“You didn’t?” Maggie seemed genuinely perplexed by what you were saying and you suddenly were hit with how crazy you must have sounded.

You had spend the better part of the last few months ranting to them about every little interaction with the man and it was apparently clear to everybody but yourself and Daryl that you had feelings for him. 

There was a brief silence before you were delving into what had happened and doing your best to not leave out any details so you could get their opinions and advice on where to go from here. Beth cringed when you got to the part about not telling anybody and Maggie rolled her eyes when you mentioned Daryl had slept outside to avoid having to talk to you again.

“Is it really that bad?” Beth seemed almost bashful to ask the question and you both knew what she was talking about. 

You weren’t really sure how to answer her because although young, you were still very much an adult and capable of making your own decisions but you also wouldn’t be able to fully blame somebody who found you and Daryl together to be distasteful. Beth was still a few years younger than you and you had a hard time picturing her with anybody that age when she was closer to you and Maggie’s maturity.

“You’re a grown woman Y/N.” Maggie seemed to have come to a similar conclusion as you had or maybe she just wanted to encourage her friend towards something she knew would make her happy. “Least he could do is talk to you.”

That seemed to light a new found fire in you and after a few more words of encouragement you were storming off to go and find Daryl.

It took a fair bit of time to track him down but eventually you were led back to the maintenance room in the newly cleared portion of the prison, heart beating faster as you walked through the dimly lit hallways. You felt relieved when you could hear his voice coming from one of the rooms but then annoyance surge through you again.

“I’m a grown ass woman.” You were sure you looked ridiculous as you pushed through the door and looked at him angrily, pointing a finger in his direction and feeling slightly smug when you saw how caught off guard he looked for once. 

Then his eyes were trailing behind you and for a second you were reminded of the way he had looked before the walker attacked, spinning around just to see Rick and Glenn staring at you like you had grown two heads. Theyd never seen you so amped up before and the latter looked like he almost wanted to laugh. 

You were sure Maggie had filled him in to some extent about your situation with Daryl and your neck felt hot with embarrassment, something that was happening far too often for your liking.

“Sorry.” You felt sheepish as you glanced at Rick who looked half disapproving and half amused. “Can I talk to Daryl?”

Now he had something else passing over his face but you weren’t really sure what to make of it, even more confused when they locked eyes over your shoulder before Rick was raising an eyebrow and giving a slow nod. He barely looked at you as they left and you couldn’t tell if that made you feel better or worse. 

You were turning back towards the source of your anger but now all of your fight had been lost and all you could do was sigh as you looked at him.

“Can you atleast talk to me?” You found yourself simply repeating exactly what Maggie had told you and you felt prematurely defeated when you saw the closed off look in his eye.

“Ain’t nothing to talk about.” He was quick to dismiss you completely and you were thankful you were standing between him and the door because it looked like he was seconds from running away just to avoid you again. 

“There is Daryl and you know there is.” You didn’t care that you sounded desperate as you called his name and his eyes bore harder into yours when he heard it falling from your lips, only watching you as you took a few steps closer to him. “What’s so wrong about you liking me?”

He wasn’t going to say it, place a name to exactly what the problem would be because he knew you were already aware. You could tell he was growing frustrated that you kept pushing him about it especially when he clearly had done a good job at ignoring it although that included making you feel like shit.

“Liking eachother.” You changed your wording around to make sure you included yourself this time, wanting to remind him the feeling was mutual. 

You weren’t sure if it had the affect you wanted but you were taking a few more hesitant steps forward like you were approaching a wild animal, stopping when you were close enough to be able to put your hand on his chest.

It was the first time you were touching him like that without needing a real reason to and he seemed more affected than you’d seen him be yet, breath noticeably shorting as his eyes started to frantically dart around your face.

You wished so desperately you were able to read his mind and question what it was that was holding him back so much, especially when you were out of sight from everybody else and the judgement they possibly could cast onto you.

 

Apparently you weren’t subtle and the look Rick had given him earlier almost seemed like he had been as aware of your situation as Maggie was and there was no public outcry, no pulling you away and scolding you for having your hand on his chest and your eyes moving from his lips to his eyes. 

For a second it felt like the volume had been turned off in the room until he was finally moving his gaze down too and suddenly it all came rushing back, able to hear your own heartbeat mixing with his and the pace of his breathing slowing down. 

It wasn’t until he kissed you that the sound died out again, filled in by the rush in your heart and raindrops in the distance.

[yandere-wishes]

✮⋆˙Red Hood and The Big Bad Wolf ˙⋆✮

⭒⌒★ Yandere! Jason Todd x Reader ★⌒⭒

゜。♡ 𝓕𝓪𝓲𝓻𝔂 𝓣𝓪𝓵𝓮 𝓐𝓤 ♡ ｡ ゜

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･

*ੈ✩‧₊ Thinking about how similar Red Hood is to Little Red Riding Hood, not just in name but also in practice. At their core, they are both things, red things, that survive. Reborn from the lugubre maws of death, forced to live another day, carrying baskets weaved of anguish and instability.

*ੈ✩‧₊ Jason keeps the old picture book tucked in his jacket pocket. He can't quite remember where he found the fickle thing. Can't remember why he chose such an evanescent tale to cling to.

*ੈ✩‧₊ Or maybe he does, maybe he knows exactly why he runs his fingers over his inside pocket after every fight, just to make sure the eccentric fable is still in place. Maybe it's because he understands Red Riding Hood. Knows what she's been through, what it feels like to have your innocence stripped like skin being torn from bones. To be killed and revived all in the same breath. Maybe it's because he wants to know what happens next. What happens when Little Red learns to breathe again? He wants to ask her, beg her to tell him. To be the solution to all his problems.

*ੈ✩‧₊ "How do you swallow the trauma? What do you do with the phantom pain of your heart's reanimation? How do you make the darkness go away? Did you come back the same?

*ੈ✩‧₊ There is only one thing that makes them differ. One fundamental little thing...

*ੈ✩‧₊ Jason doesn't mind the wolf. Pretty pup prowling about. He blames it on his upbringing. He'd been taught to fall in love with such wicked things. From as early as he can remember he's watched bats chase cats across gargoyle-littered rooftops. Watched pretty girls throw themselves at bleached killers. That's why he's quick to be enarmed with the new villain terrorizing the Gotham streets. The girl in a wolf mask, planting bombs in jewelry stores and biting off her victim's ears.

*ੈ✩‧₊ There is nothing scary about the big bad wolf, Red Hood thinks, as he re-reads the page where the wolf and girl meet. Why fear pain when you've been to the end of the road? Why fear something when you're acquainted with its ending?

*ੈ✩‧₊ "Shouldn't wolves only come out when there's a full moon?" He swings in from the skyline, ironclad military boots lodging into your stomach pushing you back into a glass display case. "That's werewolves you idiot" you mumble out of breath, glass shards pocking at your spine. The ticking of your newest explosive rings melodically through the air. He's quick to cut the wires, to defuse your toy without a second thought. Professional you think bitterly as you pounce on his back looking for an opening of flesh to sink your teeth into.

*ੈ✩‧₊ The thing they don't tell you about dying is that you always come back wrong. Primordially, spiritually, the person who closes their eyes, is never the same one who opens them again.

But Red Riding Hood was lucky, her story ended before she realized that dreadful thing. Jason has to deal with it every day, the reverberating scars, the colorless world that fractures and breaks should he let his mind wander astray. The fact that his heart only ever truly beats when he sees the fluffy ears of your cowl and that damn bloodthirsty smirk.

*ੈ✩‧₊ Yandere!Jason Todd who's only brave enough to call it love after you stake a knife through his heart. The bulletproof vest and armor keep the damage away, but he can see the murderous intent shimmering in your eyes. It's only then that he pulls you down by the back of your neck. Lips to lips, a messy clash of anathema and apprehension. Your teeth gnaw at his lips while his tongue composes ballads on the roof of your mouth.

*ੈ✩‧₊ He wonders if Little Red ever went back for the wolf. If she ever dares kiss him with all the pain and anguish she has left in her body. Nicking her tongue on his razor-sharp teeth. Guiding his claws to ghost over her frail body. He wonders if the wolf can even hurt her. There's so little left that can hurt you when you've already felt the end.

*ੈ✩‧₊ He knows you stalk him, follow him even during the day. Sometimes he pulls you into the back alleyway. Knife at your throat as he soaks up your ethereal face. Mask on, mask off. In the end, you'd have found out anyway. His hands squeeze at your hips, needing the flesh, leaving his essence over your body. His lips danced over the back of your neck, biting tenderly at the apex of your shoulder.

*ੈ✩‧₊ You seem to like it when his knife cuts deep. When his punches crack bone. When his boots crush you into the pavement. You throw your head back and laugh, witty little threats spilling from your mouth. So this is love he thinks as your claws rake over his biceps ripping the muscle like ribbons, rummaging through the blood and tissue in search of bone. "Poor little puppy" he mocks "looking for a bone to chew on". "Shut up you tomato-looking freak" you scream as his teeth sink into your jaw, crunching of bone.

*ੈ✩‧₊ He thinks you look gorgeous when you're irritated, he thinks you're beautiful when your bloodthirst seeps through the anger. He bites back a moan as your knee nests into his gut.

*ੈ✩‧₊ Did Little Red ever talk to her mother again? Or did she hold a grudge, haunted by her betrayal of sending her into the woods unarmed, heartbroken that she never came looking for her? Jason's thoughts pound inside his head, picture-book illustrations flash before him of Little Red pushing her mother away, of tears streaming down her face, screaming, screaming, screaming. He hisses as his lacerations burn. Hand suspended, pushing down the urge to knock on his father's door. Bruce would know what to do...he always knows what to do. It's such a childish notion, he clings to. Even now, even after he was killed and left un-avenged Jason still wholeheartedly believes in the notion that Daddy will fix everything...He's halfway to the entrance gate when Bruce alls after him, cadence thick with grief and ache. Jason doesn't turn back, he runs and runs and runs.

*ੈ✩‧₊ Yandere!Jason who crashes through your apartment window. Pushes you back onto the bed and lies next to you as you squirm and scream. He wraps his arms protectively around your waist and nuzzles into the crux of your neck. Mumbling Little Red Riding Hood's tale until you fall asleep. "How did You know I love the story?" you ask, the next morning to the empty half of your bed. Last night's tremulous dread still laying heavy on your corpse.

*ੈ✩‧₊ Yandere!Jason who lays on his window seal, watching as the sun pokes through Granny Red's face. It's funny isn't it, in such a twisted way didn't he also die in his grandfather's house? Only to be reborn while he watched? Didn't the same thing happen to Little Red?

*ੈ✩‧₊ That night Jason dream he's was walking through the grass, headed for the forest behind Wayne manner. He's trapped inside his jejune body, the body of a boy wonder. Clutching a basket with a crowbar inside as dread dances in his stomach. His old red cape taut around his neck, suffocating, skin-tight. He's forgotten how to breathe, puerile fear of those ghoulish old trees clawing at his body. Through the dimness, through lose rays that escape the moon's greed he's able to spot you. Weaving through the bushes and trees, stalking closer and closer. He doesn't know whether to meet you halfway or retreat. Frozen like a robin being pounced on by a sickly smiling cat. His eyes meet yours, right before you attack.

*ੈ✩‧₊ Yandere!Jason who misses you, when he doesn't catch you on patrol, of course, he misses you, it's hard not to miss a broken bone. Hard to feel the sting of your wounds and forget who put them there.

*ੈ✩‧₊ Yandere!Jason finally realizes that he just can't bear to be away from you. This love, this mania, it's all for you. He needs you. He's got you corned, the end of a chase. You smile, all teeth and games, "You're pretty when sulk" you whisper, tracing claws up his chest, digging into the space between each ridge. "Oh really? How can you tell when I got this helmet on?" You laugh, coy and flirtish "I just do" you shrug. Pulling his helmet up, lips ghosting over his in a mockery of a kiss. Jason pushes forward, entraping your lips against his. Lost in intimacy he's quick to grab you, to drag you back to his apartment, to lock the doors and throw away the key. To keep the big bad wolf where she belongs, right next to Little Red Riding Hood.

   

🎀I feel like every Batson deserves a villainess to fall in love with. Let's call this one WolfWoman. TBH I feel like I want to write more for her in the future.

[wordswithkittywitch]

A little bit more information for people whose interest is piqued but aren't sure they want to talk to a stranger online about beta reading a novel based on a list.

Here's the elevator pitch: In a bustling steampunk metropolis, a widow runs a boarding house for single, middle-class women who attempt to walk three steps without being accosted by adventurers, pirates, noblemen, or crazed inventors. It's a satirical melodrama examining the lives of the women who get tied to railroad tracks.

And a short (about three page) excerpt is under the cut:

Caroline looked around and tried to get her bearings. They seemed to be on the outskirts of the city, as the nearest building was a fair run away. It would have been much faster and more convenient to take the train into the city, considering that the pair of them were tied to the tracks.

"Railroad tracks!" Bittersweet exclaimed indignantly. "Who ties someone to railroad tracks in this day and age, I ask you!"

“I would think you’d be quite familiar with the practice.” Caroline commented crossly.

“Oh, I’m familiar with it.” he scoffed, “It’s gauche. No self-respecting villain has tied a young lady to railroad tracks in almost a decade.”

“I agree, it’s quite tasteless.” said Mr. Brandywine, “Which makes it the perfect death for you, Baron Ambrose Bittersweet.” He spoke the name with the cringing pity usually reserved for a thirteen year old boy who had just decided he would become a romantic poet. Mr. Bittersweet sucked his teeth furiously and scowled up at Brandywine.

“That’s all well and good for him, but what do I have to do with it?” asked Caroline.

“You?” he laughed, “That’s quite simple. I couldn’t simply tie a man to railroad tracks. That would be… weird! But a pair of young lovers, that’s another story completely.”

“You’ve quite failed to do that, then, as I am not this gentleman’s lover!”

“Oh, come Carrie, this is no time for girlish modesty.” said Mr. Bittersweet.

“And you can shut up, if you don’t have anything useful to say.” she snapped. “You’re… you’re a crime baron, aren’t you? Don’t you have some kind of protection?”

“I have the best kind of protection!” Bittersweet defended testily, “No criminal in all the city would dare move against me!”

“Then tell me, are we out of the city or is this man not a criminal?”

“Oh, I am a criminal, make no mistake about that, young lady.” said Mr. Brandywine. “I’ve simply taken umbrage with system this man is holding the city to.”

“A system you were perfectly happy with while your actions kept you in my good graces!” snapped Bittersweet.

“Why of course.” said Brandywine, sounding slightly nonplussed, “Why would I rebel against a system I was thriving in?”

“Because it’s wrong!” Caroline protested.

“Ah, perhaps it is, pretty thing, but its wrongness only puts polite young ladies out of sorts, and that is a group not famous for kicking up a fuss.” said Mr. Brandywine, “It’s perfectly alright for everyone who would have the power to do anything about it, or at least it was until a particular man lost a particular ship.”

“Is this about you losing the Outcast?” asked Mr. Bittersweet, “Because as much as I could gather without you making a proper report, that was your own fool fault. Only an incompetent would have his ship overpowered by women and children.”

“It wasn’t like that!”

“Well, then you should have made a report as to what it was like rather than disappearing off the map! We could be forced to reach any odd conclusion, even going so far as to believe the newspapers’ account of the attack!”

“I don’t have to make reports to you anymore, Mr. Bittersweet.” snapped Brandywine, “I don’t have to listen to anyone anymore, and certainly not a man who is about to be dead.”

“What kind of villain are you, sir?” demanded Mr. Bittersweet. “It is a well-known fact among our profession that dying men make the best confessionals.”

“Confessionals, yes, but not leaders.” argued Brandywine, “The best you can hope to be at this point is a martyr.”

“I’ll worry about becoming a martyr when I’m actually dead. For now, I only ask for a word in your ear.”

"What could you possibly have to say at this point, other than ‘please don’t kill me’?”

“Both of us know you’re not going to kill me, Mr. Brandywine. You wouldn’t know what to do with your life if I where not coordinating it. You think you hate this, but in reality, even that hate gives much needed structure to your life.”

“You—you greatly overestimate your importance, you pompous ass!” Brandywine snapped.

“I can see how it might appear that way to someone who’s plans for the future rarely extend as far as the next cutting remark you aim at someone you insist you’re going to kill without making the least effort to kill him.”

“You talk too much. Fear of death shows itself in the most curious ways.”

“I’m not afraid of death because I’m not going to die here. I am cross at the idea of it getting out that men in my Union were using such hackneyed plans as tying young ladies to railroad tracks. It rather shows a lack of imagination on their part, which reflects badly on me.”

“Well, if all goes well, the only thing you have to worry about reflecting on you is the underside of a speeding train.” Caroline snapped.

“Hush, Carrie, the men are talking.” Mr. Bittersweet scolded gently.

“And saying absolutely nothing!” she snapped. “I’m saying more than you’re worth, if only you’d listen.”

“If I were her, I wouldn’t be listening to you either, Mr. Brandywine. You spend too much time gloating because you think it makes you look intimidating. But if I don’t squirm, you watching me and waiting for me to do so becomes pointless.” said Mr. Bittersweet. He adjusted his position slightly so that his back was resting comfortably against Caroline’s.

“The only real question is how much are you going to annoy me before you realize doing so was a profoundly stupid idea?” Mr. Bittersweet asked coolly. “There is only time waiting to elapse before I have you at my mercy, rather than the other way around, and unlike you, I won’t be keeping you there to gloat over the situation. You’re going into the Boiler Room, or you’re going to die. And if you want to pick which one sounds less odious to you, you’ll untie me now.”

“Sir, in case you forget, I have already overpowered you. You are helpless, even a plea for your own life would fall on deaf ears. I’m certainly not afraid of you!”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” said Mr. Bittersweet. “As it shows you to be even stupider than I took you to be.”

Mr. Brandywine fumed. This confrontation was not going at all how he pictured it.

“As amusing as this conversation is-“

“To whom?” asked Caroline.

“I’m afraid I do have somewhere else to be.” said Mr. Brandywine. “The trouble with trains is they are so put out by having something blocking the track, even when they could easily just barrel over it. I have to make sure this coming train does not stop for anything.” He smiled broadly, doffed his hat, and bowed sarcastically at Mr. Bittersweet. “Goodbye, Mr. Bittersweet. Have a painful death.”

“Good afternoon, Mr. Brandywine. Report at the Repose at noon tomorrow for your punishment.” Mr. Bittersweet replied. Brandywine looked briefly down into Mr. Bittersweet’s smiling face before kicking a cloud of dust into it. With a swish of his coat, Mr. Brandywine strode purposefully down the railroad track and into the distance. The crime baron rolled his eyes.

“The man’s an idiot.” Mr. Bittersweet muttered. “If he had a single thought under that ridiculous bowler hat he would have stayed around to make sure the train actually hit us.” Caroline frowned heavily.

“That was a lot of bravado. I’m hoping there’s a plan to go along with it.” said Caroline.

“I have a half-dozen plans, the trouble is picking which one would be the most satisfying for Brandywine to never learn about.” Mr. Bittersweet grumbled, furiously trying to move his bound feet.

“How about the fastest one, in case it fails?” Caroline suggested. Mr. Bittersweet fidgeted in a manner most unlike himself. For a moment, Caroline wondered if he was trying to take advantage of their situation to grab at her, but even Mr. Bittersweet would not be so crass. He gave a soft crow of triumph and unbent one of his legs.

“That’s one foot free!” he announced, “Now if you can untie my hands…”

“I’ll untie your hands after I’ve untied my own feet.”

“Oh, but that’ll take ages…”

“You did it quickly enough.”

“Yes, but I’m…”

“Chattering at me when I’m trying to concentrate.” Caroline snapped. The two of them struggled with their bonds, both quite set against helping the other. Mr. Bittersweet knelt forward, trying to get his feet beneath him, while Caroline squealed in protest.

“Mr. Bittersweet! Give me a minute!”

“We don’t have a minute, we have to get off of this track!” With that, Mr. Bittersweet bent forward onto his knees, getting his feet beneath him. Caroline was pulled backwards by this action, and as Mr. Bittersweet drew to his feet she found that it was not possible to get her own feet beneath her, as when he leaned forward, she was lifted off the ground entirely.

“Ambrose!” she protested.

“Just a moment, love, I’ll get us out of this!” he announced, staggering forward a few steps before breaking into a slightly hunched run. Caroline screamed in protest, her feet flailing in the air.

“Where-? Where are you-?” she shrieked, trying to get her bearings. To her dismay, Mr. Bittersweet was not climbing off of the railroad track, but running down its length in the direction that Mr. Brandywine had disappeared in.

“Stop! Stop!” Caroline protested.

“When I get my hands on that odious little man, I swear-“ he growled, completely ignoring her.

“Bittersweet! Stop!” Caroline screamed, though she was become aware of the fact he wasn’t paying the least attention. So she attempted to become unignorable and slammed the heel of her boot hard against the inside of his knee. Mr. Bittersweet’s legs buckled in pain, lowering Caroline onto her feet. Caroline then leaned forward, got Mr. Bittersweet’s weight onto her back, and began to run in the opposite direction.

“You’re going the wrong way!” screamed Bittersweet.

“I’m trying to get off the tracks!” snapped Caroline, clambering with great difficulty over the railroad ties and off of the tracks. But no sooner had she gotten off of the tracks than Mr. Bittersweet kicked her legs out from under her and she found herself being borne on his back once again, running along the side of the tracks as fast as his long legs could carry them.

Hey! You down there! Do you like:

Steampunk?

Early cinema melodramas?

Deconstruction of tropes?

The Strong Female Character trope shamelessly blasted into oblivion by a variety of complex female characters?

Writing with clear influences from both Terry Pratchett and Lemony Snicket?

Absurdity with occasional splashes of social commentary?

Long books?

If you didn't answer a firm no to any of these questions, I have another question for you: Want to beta read a novel?

[lucy-moderatz]

Are you through?

[ohbueckers]

THROUGH THE WALLS. paige bueckers

description. teammates who’ve never gotten along. but when you’re stuck sharing a dorm with paige bueckers—and she brings someone new home every night—it’s hard not to feel like the walls are closing in. tired of playing nice, you decide to get under her skin… in more ways than one.

includes. SMUT & about five scenes of plot building up to it (sorry, they’re not too long). player paige! scissoring, fingering, edging, etc… i’m not even sure anymore lol.

a/n. first one shot since finishing hoaw and i got carried away… (there’s a drought)? also new theme that took me forever to love, and a new writing style because all the lowercase was beginning to pmo.

It starts as it always does.

A different night, a different girl. You couldn’t count on one hand the amount of times you let someone filter through and wanted to tell them they weren’t the only one. You’d think during the season Paige’s amount of one-night stands would decrease… and well, you’d be wrong.

It’s been this way since your transfer. You’ve gotten along just fine with the rest of the team, even clicking quickly with some of them, including one of her best friends, Azzi. But Paige? Paige has been a different story entirely. It was like something about you set her off, though she never outright said it. She didn’t need to. You could feel it.

You told yourself it didn’t matter. That her opinion of you was inconsequential, that you could live perfectly fine without her approval. But the truth was, it gnawed at you. Paige Bueckers wasn’t exactly a hard person to get along with—at least, not from what you’d seen with the others. She was charismatic, charming even. A natural leader.

She gave you nothing at all. You weren’t sure what you’d done to warrant it. Maybe it was something you said during your first practice, or maybe it was just who you were. Whatever the reason, Paige made it clear you weren’t worth her time.

You sat up in your bed, cross-legged under the covers as you flipped through the pages of a book you barely had the time to read anymore. From practices, games, away games, classes you had to take in order to finish your masters degree, the only time you had reserved for yourself—and well, the noises of Paige and her newest toy, were these late nights, alone in your bedroom.

You shuffled, turning to your side as you propped yourself up on your elbow. Your TV wasn’t doing much to hide the fact that Paige seemed to flaunt it, like she knew you were there, in the room just next door, forced to listen to it all.

Then, the door to Paige’s room creaked open. You didn’t have to look up to know it was her, that familiar sound of the latch turning, the soft shuffle of feet as she slipped out with Ms. Girl-Of-The-Week in tow. You kept your eyes trained on the page, trying to lose yourself in the book, but the sounds grew louder.

Muffled laughter that was too loud to not be intentional, and the subtle scruff of sneakers, or maybe slippers that indicated she was probably about to leave. Your fingers froze mid-turn when they stopped right outside your door.

Paige’s voice was unmistakable. Her gruff Minnesota accent that was too close for comfort. You narrowed your eyes toward your locked door. You could almost hear the smirk in her tone as she murmured something, followed by a soft, breathy kiss—almost like they hadn’t been doing just that the entirety of the night. “Are you serious?” you mumbled to yourself.

The sound of lips meeting lingered, and you felt an inexplicable heat rise in your chest—part frustration, part something else you couldn’t quite place.

It didn’t last long. Their footsteps retreated to the front door, and you were left behind in silence. Finally, right?

You forced yourself to go back to the book, but the words didn’t make sense anymore.

“Yo, Nik! Bet you can’t make this shot with your eyes closed!”

“She can barely make it with her eyes open.”

The taunt came from Aaliyah, who was lounging on the bleachers with her sneakers propped up on the rail. Nika immediately took it as a challenge, and you immediately took it as a sign to get out of there before she made everyone stick around until she made it. Post practice was always your favorite. Some of the team had already dispersed to the locker room showers, claiming that the gym was too hot and humid to linger around any longer, and well, you couldn’t blame them. Your shirt was sticking to your back, sweat making every movement feel like a little more effort than it should.

“Don’t miss,” Azzi called out from next to you.

“We’re gonna be here all day,” you muttered, dodging a hit from a jaw-gaped Azzi who fully believes Nika is capable. You giggle, moving to the far end of the bleachers where you’d placed your stuff at the start of practice, grabbing a sweat towel and wiping your forehead.

From the corner of your eye, you caught a glimpse of Paige. She was off the court now, towel draped around her neck, eyes scanning the gym. It didn’t take long for her to lock onto something—or rather, someone.

Her latest fling, you’re sure. She waltzed into the gym, holding a neatly folded item of clothing you’re sure is a pathetic excuse to be here right now. She’s pretty, you’ll admit. Her braids are pulled into a style that frames her face perfectly, and her jeans hug her figure like they were tailored just for her. There wasn’t anything bad you could say about her, but every fiber of your being wanted to find something. A flaw, maybe. Her blush blended too high up on her cheeks, her jacket too fluffy to be flattering.

You figured you were just as pathetic.

You tore your eyes away as Paige greeted her, pulling her in close, thanking her for returning something she definitely didn’t need—at least not now. You looked back just in time to miss all the casual flirtation, but to catch the way Paige’s body shifted ever so slightly as the girl leaned in to kiss her on the mouth, lips landing on her cheek.

You froze.

Paige’s eyes darted away from her lips, pulling back just enough to avoid the kiss. It was subtle for anyone but you, calculated, and as clear as day. It wasn’t an accident. It wasn’t a misstep. She had actively dodged it.

Your pulse quickened, your breath catching in your throat. You wanted to look away, to pretend it didn’t bother you, but you couldn’t. Your eyes stayed locked on them as Paige smiled awkwardly, forcing her attention to the rest of the gym while the girl turned to walk out.

And just like that, it hit you: Paige was playing a game.

The kiss she’d given so easily last night was suddenly too much for her to do in front of you.

It had become a habit now, even though you hated yourself for it.

The faint giggles filtering through the door stopped you in your tracks as you walked past Paige’s room that night. Another one. That was obvious. You couldn’t place her laugh, though—higher-pitched than the last girl’s, breathier, maybe. Your feet hesitated, the rational part of your brain screaming at you to keep walking, but you didn’t listen. Instead, you found yourself leaning closer, pressing your ear to the wood.

You told yourself it was because you wanted to confirm just how much of a nuisance Paige was being this time. Not because you were curious, not because your stomach churned at the thought of what was happening behind that door.

Muffled voices floated through. Then came Paige’s husk of a laugh, accompanied by a whispered, “You really gon’ make me work for it, huh?”

You clenched your jaw, heat prickling up your neck. It wasn’t like you didn’t know this was Paige’s routine—find someone, bring them back, make it loud enough that you couldn’t not hear it—but something about hearing her voice in such a vulnerable state, made something twist uncomfortably in your chest.

You didn’t stay long. As soon as the low giggles morphed into something else, you yanked yourself away, retreating back to your own room and shutting the door harder than necessary.

Still, when Paige emerged the next morning, looking annoyingly satisfied and not even bothering to throw a shirt over her sports bra, your simmering irritation boiled over.

Her blonde hair was tied back messily into a bun, strands sticking out in a way that only added to her maddening confidence. Her toned arms gleamed faintly from her post-shower routine, and her smirk was the cherry on top, like she knew exactly how much she was testing your patience.

“You ever think about being considerate for once?” you snapped as she walked past your leaning figure against the kitchen counter, staring daggers at her.

Paige faced away from you, opening the fridge lazily as she searched it. “Jealous?’”

You scoffed, tilting your head. “Hardly.”

Paige turned around, a half-empty bottle of orange juice in her hand, smirk spreading as she kicked back against the fridge. “Hardly,” she repeated, giving you a once-over.

“What?” You clenched your jaw, watching as she tipped the liquid back slowly. “You could at least pretend to feel bad about being the most obnoxious roommate ever.”

“Obnoxious?” she repeated again, and you were getting real sick of it. Paige raised an eyebrow, lowering the bottle and wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. “You really that mad about it? Or is there somethin’ else goin’ on?”

Got me there, you thought. You squinted instead. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

“Too late,” she quipped, her grin widening as she kicked off the fridge and took a slow step toward you, the bottle dangling from her hand. “You’re funny when you’re mad, y’know that?” she said, voice low and teasing. “Almost cute.”

You pretended to not be moved by her comment. Paige had never been remotely flirty with you. You were even sure she waited for you to leave the kitchen before making her move in the mornings just so you didn’t have to cross paths sometimes. You crossed your arms. “Almost cute is what you call those girls you sneak in here, right?”

Her smirk didn’t falter. “Well, it’s not really sneakin’ if you know about it.”

You narrowed your eyes, her own blue hues almost pinning you in place. She wasn’t just looking at you—she was studying you, daring you to react. The air suddenly felt thicker. It had definitely shifted, enough for you both to realize but not enough for either of you to move, and for a moment, you couldn’t look away.

But then you did, tearing your eyes from hers and taking a step forward, shoving lightly at her chest. “The bottle’s yours now, by the way,” you mumbled, rounding the island.

Paige barely budged—and neither did her smirk as she spun her body around just to see you leave. “Good thing I was finna finish it!” she called out for the last word.

By the third night, you’d had enough. The muffled sounds of Paige’s latest conquest had become a recurring soundtrack to your evenings, grating on your nerves until you could barely stand to be in your own space. It wasn’t just the noise—it was the principle of it, the blatant disregard for you, the unspoken challenge in the way she paraded each new girl in and out of your shared apartment.

You weren’t sure what her problem was, but if she thought she could push you out, she was wrong.

So tonight, you decided to flip the script.

You heard the front door open, the familiar sound of keys jingling as Paige stepped inside. She hadn’t even known you’d invited anyone over until she’d stepped into the apartment, tossing her bag down by the door and catching the low chatter of conversation. She froze for half a second. You didn’t bother greeting her. Riley, glancing between the two of you excepting some form of conversation, gave Paige a quick nod of acknowledgment before returning her eyes to you.

The fuck was that? Who the fuck is that? Paige thought.

Riley was good. Riley was great. Riley was undoubtedly a pawn. You’d met her at a mutual friend’s party a few weeks back when you’d drunkenly rambled about how you didn’t do relationships during the season because of your schedule, and while you hadn’t exactly planned on inviting her over, tonight seemed like the perfect night to make a point.

You weren’t doing anything wrong, but the thrill of it still made your stomach flip. Maybe it was the way Riley’s knee brushed yours when she shifted closer, but that couldn’t be right. Or maybe it was the fact that, for once, you were the one in control, and Paige would have to sit with that.

Paige peered over the couch until she could see you. Your legs tucked under you, so casually perfect it made her stomach twist.

You didn’t matter. Not like that.

That’s what she repeated in her head now as she moved further into the apartment, forcing herself into the kitchen instead of retreating straight to her room. She could still hear bits of your conversation. The girl’s voice was deep, smooth, like she knew exactly how to charm you. Paige hated her on principle.

You said something then, your voice dropping into a softer tone that the blonde hadn’t heard in a while—not since that first week you moved in, back when you still tried to be her friend.

She clenched her jaw, biting back the urge to interrupt. Instead, she opened the fridge, pulling out a random bottle of water just to have something to do with her hands. It’s none of your business, Paige told herself, cracking the bottle open. But her mind refused to let it go.

It wasn’t like she hadn’t seen you around other girls before. You were attractive—it wasn’t surprising. But this felt different. This was intentional, intimate.

And Paige hated it.

She walked out of the kitchen without thinking, legs moving until her body was pressed against the back of the couch. “Didn’t know we were hosting tonight,” she announced, her voice deceptively light as she stood tall, taking a sip of her water like this was normal, like she wasn’t purposefully intruding.

You glanced up, catching sight of her, and something flickered across your face—annoyance, maybe. She ignored it.

Your guest glanced at her too, clearly thrown off by her sudden presence. “Uh, hey,” she said, offering a polite smile.

“It’s not your dorm,” you reminded, completely ignoring Riley’s attempt at a well mannered exchange, your tone just as breezy.

Paige smiled. She fucking smiled and you wanted to wipe it off her stupidly perfect face. “Yeah, but you know how I feel ‘bout strangers. Y’all good in here?”

“Fine,” you responded.

“Nice,” she said, dragging the word out in a way that made your skin crawl. “Hope I’m not interrupting nothing.”

“You’re not,” you said quickly.

“Cool,” Paige said, pushing off the couch with another version of that smile that was so evidently fake. “Don’t mind me.”

She walked past the two of you, heading toward her room, but not before throwing one last glance over her shoulder.

Riley had left with nothing more than a kiss on the cheek. You told her you didn’t know Paige would be home tonight, offering a quick apology. She seemed to buy it, flashing you a smile before slipping out of the door and into the hall. As the door clicked shut behind her, you couldn’t shake the feeling of Paige’s eyes burning into your back, though you’d pretended to ignore her presence the entire time.

But as soon as Riley was out of sight, it was like a switch flipped. You were done pretending. Done letting Paige walk all over you in your own apartment. Done losing sleep over it.

Without knocking, you walked straight into her room. Her back was facing you, and she hadn’t even moved when you waltzed in, lounging on her bed, scrolling through her phone, as if you hadn’t just spent the last hour biting your tongue and pretending to not be frustrated.

“Can we talk?” you asked, standing close to the doorframe with your arms crossed. The fury in your voice wasn’t hard to catch, and it wasn’t exactly a question. You were going to talk.

Paige glanced over shoulder—amused—clicking her phone off. You tried not to stare at the tone of her back, the buff of her arms… you had other things to worry about. “You’re mad,” she stated matter-of-factly, huffing as she fixed herself at the edge of her bed.

“You think?” you snapped, pushing away from the doorframe and advancing into the room, beginning to pace. “Do you even think about anyone else for five seconds? Or is this whole apartment just your playground?”

Her head tilted, blonde hair falling across her face as she looked thoroughly unimpressed to say the least. “What’re you talkin’ about now?” she drawled, and you rolled your eyes back to the gates of hell.

“You’re really gonna sit there and act clueless? You drove her away, Paige.”

“So?”

“So?” you repeated, incredulous. “You don’t see the problem with that?”

Paige shrugged, her hands clasped together in her lap. “If she left that easy, maybe she wasn’t worth your time.”

You stopped pacing, turning to face her fully. “What’s your problem with me having someone over? You’ve had your share of… company.”

Paige raised an eyebrow, her smirk faltering for the first time. “That’s different.”

“How?” you pressed, taking a step closer.

Her jaw tightened, and she suddenly couldn’t look at you. “Just is.”

“For once, I wasn’t here listening to your—” You broke off, gesturing vaguely but pointedly toward her bed. “But you still had to make it about you.”

Paige stretched, and you forced your eyes away from the taut lines of her flexed abdomen. She smirked like she knew you’d looked anyway. “Aight, can we not … argue?”

You squinted. “We’re not arguing.”

Paige snorted, clearly unconvinced, as she pushed herself off the bed and stood. “Just go, bro,” she muttered, dismissing you with a wave of her hand as she moved past you toward the door.

You didn’t move, way too stubborn for your own good. “I’m not leaving until you answer my question.”

Paige paused, and there was a shift in her stance that you could read better than the expression on her face. She didn’t say anything at first, her fingers brushing lightly over her jaw, the movement so preconceived, almost like she was trying to distract herself from whatever had been building between the two of you. “You’re really gonna make me say it, huh?”

You didn’t steer away from her, in fact, you leaned into it. It was ridiculous how easy she could shut you up.

“Oh.”

You let the word sit in the air, almost a whisper, barely a sound, but it hit both of you in the gut.

The realization was slow, but clear. You didn’t need her to spell it out. She couldn’t just fuck and forget with you, not like she did with the others. This was something different, something that scared her—something that scared you, too.

Oh.

You stared into her blue irises, and suddenly the few inches she had on you was more evident than it had ever been before. Your cheeks were slightly smushed between the largeness of her hand, and you could almost hear her heart beating in her chest.

You’re close. Too close.

“Yeah,” she finally muttered. “That’s what I thought.” With that, she shoved you away, rough enough to make you feel it.

You didn’t know what to say, so you’d stupidly responded with a two letter word that Paige thought she understood, thought she knew the meaning behind. You didn’t know what to say, so you put your lips to better use.

You moved before she could stop you, your mouth crashing against hers, urgent, desperate, full of everything you’d been fighting. There was nothing careful about it, nothing controlled. It was just instinct—a pull between you that neither of you could avoid anymore.

For a moment, Paige buffered. Her hands hovered over your hips as your lips moved in perfect sync. You could feel her hesitation, debating whether to push you away or pull you closer.

You leaned more into her, pressing your body against hers, and with a subtle shift, you guided one of her hands into your side, urging her to touch you, and it was all the confirmation she needed that this was real.

It was sloppy in all the right ways, hands roaming everywhere between fabric that got in the way of warm skin. Paige groaned softly against your mouth, holding you up by the small of your back as she pushed the door shut, the soft thud of it almost drowned out by the sound of your breathing.

She backs you onto her bed until you’ve fallen, giving your lips a break for the first time within your haze. You’re hastily removing your shirt as she climbs over you.

“Shit. Are we gonna regret this?” you question fully breathless, letting your tee slide off your arms. Your legs parted instinctively, and she fit herself between them, leaning down to get a taste of you.

“You think ima’ regret fuckin’ you?” she asks straightforwardly, so muffled against your neck that she’s nipping and sucking at you almost don’t hear it. You screw your eyes shut, trailing a manicured hand down her abs, fingers brushing the ridges of her muscles. “No, I—didn’t mean it like that—“

“Aight, then,” she cuts, fully disbanding the conversation while licking over a fresh hickey. She pushes you onto your side, tugging your shorts down in nearly the same movement. You have no time to protest, and you don’t exactly want to either. Paige drags two of her fingers over your clothed cunt, parting her lips to let out a breath in admiration. “I got you this wet?” she whispers.

“All you.”

She pushes your panties to the side, sliding a finger between your wet folds. You whimper, shifting to spread wide open for her, but she holds you firmly folded in place by your waist. “Like you just like this. Say it again for me?”

Her finger drags through increasingly slow—up and down—like a petty reminder she’s in control. “All you, Paige. Only you. Only ever you,” you admit in a hurried ramble, yelping as she slips two digits into you.

“Only ever me, huh? Y’sure you not just sayin’ that?” she teases, tugging her lip between her teeth as she watches her fingers disappear. Your head lolls to the side, your breath coming short, hardly able to muster up a response for her.

Her opposite hand makes its way to your face, bringing you right back, and she uses her thumb to trail down and over your bottom lip, your saliva dragging across your chin so filthily you have to remind yourself she’s a pro at this. You can’t stand to think about the other girls. “Paige—mfmm—fuck,” you let out, the squelching enough to make you feel her deeper.

You swallow as she gazes down at you, her mouth finding yours in another heated kiss as she works you up. She sloppily trails over to your neck again, distracting you with a bite that she quickly soothes with her tongue. “You’re s’good,” you praise, fingers knitting through her hair that falls in waves over her shoulders.

Your hands find her abdomen again, a place you’ve grown obsessed with after seeing in her in about a hundred variations of a sports bra. It’s like she knew it drove you mad. Paige smirked, dragging your hand a little lower. “I’ll let you ride ‘em if you’re good.”

You smile weakly, rolling your eyes. “You’re so full of yourself.”

Paige curls her fingers up, eyes piercing into you intently like she was waiting for that reaction—the one that has your nails digging into her skin. “And you’re so full.” She pulls out and thrusts back in so easily, like her fingers were made to fit.

You’re on the brink of ecstasy, ready to fall completely undone under the girl who knows exactly how to drive you out of your mind. You’re holding onto Paige like she’s the only thing keeping you grounded. “That’s it,” she mumbles, licking her lips as she picks up the pace, her voice smug of pure satisfaction.

You gasp, barely able to form words, but she doesn’t let up, doesn’t give you a second to think. “Say it,” she demands. “Tell me who’s got you like this.”

“Paige,” you breathe, the sound of her name spilling from your lips like a prayer.

She grins, her teeth grazing your neck. “Louder. Let me hear it, baby.”

“Paige!” you moan in half frustration that she wouldn’t just let you have it—your body arching into her—and just like that, she pulls her fingers out, robbing you from your climax.

Your head snaps up. There were a million things you could’ve said, cursed, yelled. But yet your head was still buzzing, and the only two and half words that managed to spill out were a weak, “What the fu—“

She’s climbing off the bed, unperturbed as you move closer to the headboard. Before you can respond, she steps back, slipping out of her joggers and boxers in one quick motion, the fabrics hitting the floor in a careless heap. It’s so smooth—and she’s done it a hundred times before, just never with you.

She’s back on you in an instant, lips dragging over every part of your body. You’re sat up against the wall, peaking over to see yourselves in the mirror facing her bed, her body pressed tightly against yours, her hands everywhere at once. The sight knocks the air out of your lungs.

Oh.

Oh.

In the reflection, you can see just about everything.

Paige’s hands slide lower, gripping your thighs with a force that leaves no room for escape—not that you’d dream of leaving. “Keep looking,” she mutters, practically reading your mind, her breath hot against your collarbone. “Y’wanna see everything, don’t you?”

“Mm, ‘course.” You shiver, her words leaving you no choice but to obey. You’re suddenly no longer upset about not getting to come, every brush of her lips and graze of her fingertips stoking the ache pooling in your stomach.

She shifts, pulling your panties down before positioning herself between your legs. For a second, she locks eyes with you, letting a line of her spit drop and mingle with the wetness of your clits so close together.

What a freak.

Paige wastes no more time, pulling you even closer. The lower halves of your bodies align, and you let out a shuttered breath as your clit nudges hers. It’s overwhelming in all the right ways. “Aw, fuck,” she groans, your wetness meeting in the middle. You drag a hand down her stomach, playing with her pussy just a little, thumb circling over the top.

“So good, P.” You’re flush against the wall, elbows shaking as you let out ragged moans, bucking your hips up to match Paige’s pace. It seems to be working for the two of you, and you don’t think you’ve felt anything so fucking good.

“Ride me so good, fuck,” Paige tips her head back, feeling lost as your nails move higher on her torso. “Been thinkin’ ‘bout this for a minute. Just like I imagined, baby, you know that?” she admits, and it’s enough to make you let out a sound that’s nothing short of pornographic, her name somewhere in the mix.

“Shit,” you dragged out. You drag your hips against her pussy even slower, letting your eyes flutter closed as the pleasure builds in your gut. Her hands tighten on your waist, a sharp inhale giving away the effect you have on her.

“So close, ma, d-on’t slow down,” she mutters—her words a complete run-on, but it only spurs you on.

You savor the pleasure in the midst trying to keep yourself together as every movement pulls a soft gasp from your lips. “Keep goin’ just like that,” Paige breathes, her voice barely above a whisper now, her lips brushing your temple. “Doing so fuckin’ perfect.”

Her words hit you all at once as you press even closer. “I’m s’close.” You know you’re driving her to the edge too, the way her grip on you alternates between grounding and desperate betraying her restraint.

“Right with you,” Paige breathes. You bite your lip, every nerve in your body sparking to life as the pleasure builds to an almost unbearable peak. Your hips stutter against hers, and Paige’s head tilts back, a guttural groan spilling from her lips as she grips you tighter, like you’re the only thing tethering her to the moment.

Everything snaps. The rush of pleasure floods over you, hitting you so hard you can’t help but cry out her name, moans spilling over in a rush. Paige’s grip tightens as she comes undone, her breath hitching as her legs tense beneath you.

You think it’s the hardest you’ve ever came.

As you both ride out the aftermath, there’s not much silence between heaving chests and ragged breaths. Paige is the first to move, tangling herself up next to you.

Her fingers tracing small circles on your back, and you lean into it. You can’t help but chuckle, your breath still unsteady. “So… should I still have to worry about hearing you through the walls?”

Paige looks down at you in adoration, running a hand through your hair, before her hand slips to your chin, pulling you in for a brief kiss.

“Nah, no more of that.”

[tender-rosiey]

hii! I hope youre doing well ^^ n I have a request!

Fatherhood Gojo, Yuta and Suguru (separate) seeing their daughter have a love interest

let’s say the daughter is like 4-5, just started school with a strong start, one day when they come to pick up their kid— they see a boy that’s also 4-5, giving their daughter flowers or something, how would they react?

(I can imagine mother!reader being delighted at the sight, gojo being dramatic, Yuta being stressed out, and Suguru having a polite smile but yet clenching his fist LMFAO)

“I WILL THROW HANDS AT ANYONE EVEN A KID"

— gojo, sukuna, and suguru seeing their five year old daughter with a love interest (f!reader)

a/n: here you go go <33 i am so sorry bae that I couldn't include yuuta 😭

GOJO SATORU:

your daughter is naturally charismatic.

satoru wholeheartedly believes that it is something she has inherited from him.

you disagree because you can’t remember anybody who remained friends with satoru after actually talking to him, aside from those forced to, of course.

now another thing that satoru believes is that said charisma is a double-edged sword. from one side, his daughter is able to make friends quickly which gives him a piece of mind.

on the other side, the thing that makes his vein pop is the fact that filthy dirt-covered boys approach her.

he thought he had solved that problem when he scared away that last kid during her ballet class , but it seems there are always people who are competing for her heart.

he didn’t expect to run into one today though, especially not one blatantly gifting her a bouquet in front of the school gates.

the kid is a blushing mess as he gives the bouquet to her, and your daughter is nothing less than ecstatic. she jumps around, really happy with her bouquet and squealing about how pretty it is.

the little boy smiles timidly as he fidgets with the hem of his shirt, mumbling something that satoru can’t be bothered to care about.

the only things occupying his mind are two: the kid who dares to even speak to his daughter and you with your cute smile because you’re happy for her.

so, he arranges things as he prioritizes him.

he presses one big smooch to your cheek and squishes you in an ever so love-filled hug.

then he proceeds to make his way to deal with the kid who is making moves on his little baby.

he towers behind the boy, and before his little girl greets him, satoru carries the kid from his scruff and throws him in the ball pit conveniently placed beside him.

the kid screams as he falls into the ball-filled abyss.

hurriedly, he gathers his daughter in his arms and showers her with kisses. he nuzzles his nose into her cheek, “how was your day, honey?”

“it was so nice, papa!” she says happily them gets out the bouquet she was given, “and I even got this bouquet!”

“oh, really?” he hums as he takes the bouquet from her hands into his. he inspects it, distaste filling his expression.

you walk to him with a little pep in your step and place your hand around his shoulder, while you kiss your daughter’s cheek.

she squeals a delightful, “mama!” and throws herself into your arms.

you guys quickly get caught in your own conversations, not noticing satoru quickly releasing his technique blue at the poor bouquet making it effectively disappear from existence.

another day saved.

RYOMEN SUKUNA:

being the daughter of ryomen sukuna had its perks.

people strayed away and kept their distance. however, your daughter was a natural sweetheart—ironic considering her father but anyway.

that meant that little boys around estate had a tiny little crush on her which they would never act upon since they do want to continue living.

of course, there is an exception to the norm.

and that exception came in the form of a little servant boy presenting your daughter with a bunch of flowers that he had plucked himself.

your daughter was taken back, and she got flustered but accepted the flowers, nonetheless. on the other hand, you were watching from the side lines and were cheering both her and the boy on.

it was an innocent little gesture between kids. no harm done, so there was no need for—

“what the hell is this?”

you feel your husband’s menacing aura, before you hear his words. you turn to him and rest your hands on his chest and say, “d/n got flowers! isn’t that cute?”

“I can see that,” he grumbles, pinching your cheek in annoyance then directing his gaze to the kids, “but why the hell is a little good-for-nothing servant approaching my daughter? in fact, these servants should not be allowed to talk to her so casually.”

“sukuna, it’s not that big of a deal. just let them be,” you huff, “it’s not like she will fall in love with him, and he will convince her to overthrow you when they’re older.”

your husband stays quiet for a few moments. the man looks like he is actually considering the scenario that you just suggested.

and judging by him slowly approaching the kids, sukuna is going to go with the “better safe than sorry” approach.

you quickly run after him and jump on his back, “love, love, I was joking! please don’t kill him!”

sukuna groans, “and why should I listen to you?”

“cause you love me, and I love you? and we’re husband and wife, y’know?” you smile nervously, and he sets you down, so he can look you in the eye.

“I don’t love you,” he states.

“so I don’t love you?” you inquire.

he smirks, “no, that’s different. you’re obviously infatuated by me.”

“no, loving you is an effect of you loving me, so according to you,” you turn your back to him, “I don’t love you.”

he is about to retort when he feels something holding onto his leg. he looks down, and he sees his daughter beaming up at him.

she raises the flowers as high as she could and chirps, “dad, I got these flowers!”

sukuna’s eyes snap to where the kid was and finds no one. he fled, and he didn’t get to memorize his face. he slowly turns his face to you, and you stand there smirking at him.

he quirks an eyebrow at you, “oh? well, I will deal with you later tonight.”

GETO SUGURU:

you were busy watching over your daughter playing with her playdate. the little boy was your neighbour’s son, and, in general, he was good company.

the boy was polite and knew how to treat your little girl right. similarly, your little girl cherishes him very much and always rambles about him at dinner.

now, initially, suguru was okay with it.

he thought that maybe she was excited about her playdate and that it would eventually wear off, but then she started talking about him every single day since she met him.

suguru prides himself on being rational and collected. he wouldn’t stoop down to a level that gojo would. gojo was a manchild, but suguru? suguru is a grown man, a husband, and a father.

so, no, he won’t do anything to the boy.

and he certainly isn’t rushing to the playdate location, so he can stop the boy from making his daughter talk about him more.

one of his curses was watching the kids, and said curse picked up on the boy sneaking a flower behind his back. suguru concluded that he was definitely going to give it to her.

your husband finally arrives, handing you your ice cream and kissing the top of your head, “your ice cream, just how you like it, love.”

“aww, thank you, suguru,” you say as you hug him and pepper his face with kisses. suguru gets lost in your affection, forgetting about his supposed mission.

it’s not until that he notices the boy’s parents standing with the two kids that he remembers it.

“how about we go and see what the kids are up to?” he asks you, a bit urgently, and you nod, knowing what your husband is thinking.

it’s lowkey funny.

the boy’s mother takes notice of you two approaching, “oh hello mr and mrs geto!”

“hello miss c/n! are the kids getting along well?” you smile while patting your daughter’s head.

the mother giggles, “more than well, in fact. our little boy has given little d/n a flower today!”

from the corner of your eye, you can see your husband’s smile tighten and his face get stiffer and stiffer by the second.

you take his hand into your own and slowly rub it with your thumb. it does little to calm him down.

he claps his hand lightly and steps in front of the parents and says kindly, “please take your little shi—”

he feels you kick his foot from the back and quickly corrects his wording, “please distance your ki—”

you discreetly stomp on his foot, and he tries his hardest to keep his smile. he sighs defeated and hangs his head low, defeated as he mumbles, “have a nice day.”

you nod in satisfaction, and your daughter giggles.

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[lanadelnegan]

stepdad negan stepdad negan stepdad negan stepdad negan

his pretty lil stepdaughter and stepdad negan

Daddy Issues

Warnings: 18+, smut, slow burn with lots of sexual tension, time jumps (reader ages from 18-20, negan is in his 40s), age-gap, very taboo relationship (if this isn’t your thing, pls don’t read), p in v, extreme daddy kink, oral (both), masturbating in front of him, lots of dirty talk (negan being absolutely filthy), breeding

“Isn’t your dad home?”

“He’s asleep, don’t worry.” You smiled, pulling your boyfriend by his shirt and kissing him. It was a quarter past midnight, there was no way Negan would still be waiting up on you. You discarded your clothes on the living room floor before bending over the couch. Your knees pressed into the cushions while your boyfriend lined himself up behind you and entered you with one quick thrust. 

You moaned, resting your forehead on the arm of the couch while he plowed into you from behind. He gripped your hair and pulled, forcing you to look up. And when you did, you locked eyes with your stepdad standing in the door frame to the hallway just across the living room. His dark gaze was fixed on you, an unreadable expression on his face as he stood with his arms crossed.  

Your boyfriend must not have noticed him, because his thrusting didn’t stop and only became harder, making you gasp. You couldn’t look away from Negan, being intrigued by his willingness to stay and watch you. Moaning even louder, you put on a show for him. Negan’s gaze roamed to your breasts that were bouncing with each thrust before slowly trailing back to your eyes. 

Like you had fantasized about a million times, you imagined that it was Negan behind you, and that thought alone was enough to make you come undone. 

“Daddyyy!” You cried out, making a small smirk appear on Negan’s face before he disappeared down the hall and to his bedroom. 

2 years later: 

Negan never told your mom what happened. In fact, he never even mentioned it to you either. It was like the entire thing never happened. Your mom started working out of town more and more. In fact, she was hardly ever home, which made Negan step up and become the strict parent. It was super annoying, especially when he would lecture you about your clothing.  

“I’m 20.” You scoffed like you couldn’t believe this was even an issue. When are you going to start treating me like an adult?!” 

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Go change, now.” 

“Make me.” You realized how childish it sounded coming out of your mouth, but you didn’t care. You wanted to push his buttons. 

“Do not test me, sweetheart.”

You crossed your arms defiantly, looking up at him, unwilling to move. Before you realized what was happening, you were being thrown over his shoulder. You yelped, trying to grab him, but his grasp was tight on your back thigh as you hung upside down. He carried you up the stairs without saying a word. 

“Is this necessary?” You yelled, blood rushing to your head. 

When he made it to your bedroom, he kicked the door open and threw you on the bed. 

“What is wrong with you?!” You screamed. 

He ignored you again, going to your closet and shifting through all your clothes before finding a pair of jeans and a long-sleeve shirt to throw at you. 

“Are you serious? It’s the middle of summer.” You threw the clothes back at him. 

“Maybe if you owned a pair of decent shorts, this wouldn’t be an issue.” 

You stared at him in disbelief. He wasn’t joking. He leaned against the doorframe of your closet and your mind flashed back to the moment 2 years ago - an image you replay in your head often. 

“Fine.” You stood and removed your shirt, revealing a pink bra underneath. 

“Y/n.” He warned. “What are you doing?” His voice was almost a whisper.

“Changing.” You shrugged, pulling off your skirt, leaving you in nothing but a small pair of panties that matched your bra.

Negan’s eyes remained on yours, refusing to look down at your body. 

“What’s wrong? Nothing you haven’t seen before.” You smirked. 

“You’re grounded. You can forget about going out tonight.”

“Then I guess I won’t need this either.” You hummed, unclasping your bra and dropping it to the floor. 

He gave in this time, dropping his eyes to your breasts. His jaw flexed like he was holding himself back. 

“Bringing back memories, daddy?” 

He walked towards you, stopping when he was close enough to look down at you. 

“What would your mother say if she knew what a little slut you were?” 

“Doesn’t matter. I have no respect for her after I found out she cheated on you.” 

Negan’s brows scrunched together as he searched your eyes. You bent over, pressing your ass to his crotch as you pulled your phone from your skirt pocket that was on the floor. He sighed frustratedly, taking a step back. 

You handed him your phone after clicking on your mom’s messages. You almost felt bad for telling her secret, but she deserved it. Negan was so good to her and deserved to know the truth. His expression was blank as he read through the proof. 

“I thought you deserved to know. I’m sorry.” You said sincerely. 

He tossed the phone on the bed behind you. “Thanks, but I already knew.” 

“Wh-what do you mean?” 

“I found out a while ago after seeing a text from him on her phone.” 

“Oh.. then why are you still with her?” You asked, suddenly feeling silly being almost naked in front of him during a serious conversation. 

“Somebody’s gotta take care of you.” He raised his eyebrows before turning and leaving your room. “Oh, and I meant what I said by the way. You’re grounded. For the rest of the weekend. And put some damn clothes on.” He said, shutting your door and leaving you in the uncomfortable silence of your room. 

The next day: 

You’ve spent the majority of the day in your room, transitioning between a book and scrolling on your phone. Anything to take your mind off the awkwardness of yesterday.

Negan has barely said a word to you in the couple times you’ve seen him today. Out of boredom, you decided to pop in your earbuds and watch an adult video on your phone. You found your favorite stepdad video that portrayed a man who looked extremely similar to Negan and your hand drifted underneath the covers as you played with yourself.

The volume on your earbuds was turned up to the max, so you didn’t hear your bedroom door open. You were so caught up in the moment, you didn’t notice him approaching you either until your phone was ripped from your hand. Pulling the blanket over yourself, you quickly shot up and pulled out your earbuds.

“What the fuck?!” You yelled, turning a bright shade of red when you realized he was watching the video. His expression was unreadable as he watched it for a moment and you wondered if he liked it. Turning the phone around to you, he raised his eyebrows.

“Seriously?” He said, reading the title of the video out loud and you wanted to die of embarrassment.

You jerked the phone out of his hand. “What happened to knocking? And what gives you the right to just take my phone? I’m an adult.”

“First of all, I did knock but clearly -" He paused, glancing at your phone before continuing. "..You didn’t hear me. Secondly, I pay for your phone, sweetheart. I can look at whatever I want.”

You huffed, rolling your eyes. “Okay, so now what? I’m grounded even longer?"

“No. Now? You’re going to finish.”

Negan removed the blanket from your body and continued standing at the side of your bed. His hands slipped in his pockets and he nodded, giving you permission to continue.

“Are...are you serious…?”

“Orrr you can stay grounded. It’s up to you.”

You couldn’t believe this was actually happening. He wanted to watch you touch yourself. You adjusted yourself slightly, so that he could see your pussy completely. You were only in your panties and felt the wet spot that had already formed on them.

You moved your panties to the side with one hand, giving him a better view. Seeing him watch you with his eyes blown with lust was enough to make you wetter before you even touched yourself again. Reaching your other hand down, you ran a finger through your slit, getting it wet before circling your clit.

He didn’t take his eyes off your pussy and his jaw flexed when your finger dipped inside. Wet sounds filled the room as you started to moan softly, seeing the bulge in his pants grow bigger by the second.

“Negan.. I need your help, please.” You begged. His eyes met yours but he didn’t answer you. You could see he was losing his mind inside, and you knew you were close to breaking him.

“Can I just see it?” You asked, referring to his cock. “I’ve always wanted to know. Please?”

“No. Now be a good girl and show me what you can do. We both know you don’t need my help.” His adam's apple bobbed in his throat as he restrained himself. You did as he said, moaning louder and rubbing your clit faster. You felt your orgasm building quickly and your breaths became frequent and shallow as you locked eyes with him.

“Daddy…” You whined.

As soon as the word came off your tongue, Negan caved - diving between your legs as he spread them wider. You held your panties back further, giving him more access and immediately cried out when his tongue dipped inside of you.

He groaned into you, burying his face deeper and licking every drop as you rode out your orgasm. You tried gripping his hair but he had already pulled away and took a few steps back. You sat up quickly, not wanting him to leave.

"Negan.."

“Fuck. That should not have happened."

“No, wait-“ You tried to explain but he left your room, closing the door behind him.

A few hours later:

“Come in.” You responded to the knock on your door.

“Hey kiddo, listen. About earlier.”

“It’s okay. We don’t have to talk about it.” You said, keeping your eyes on your book.

He sighed, dropping his head. “It can't happen again. It shouldn't have in the first place. That was my fault, and I shouldn't-

You slammed your book shut, looking at him annoyed. "It wasn't your fault. I tried to seduce you.. more than once. And failed miserably. And honestly, I'm embarrassed, so please. Let's just forget about it."

"Sweetheart." He walked towards your bed, sitting at the edge. "You don't have to be embarrassed."

"You've seen me naked. And didn't do anything. You obviously don't want me or find me attractive, and I get that now."

"Woah, slow down." His large hand slid over your leg to comfort you. "You? Are the most beautiful thing in the world to me, y/n. You know that. But I-"

"But you don't want me in that way."

"Baby, this is about what I can't have. Not what I want."

"If you never met my mom, and we ran into each other.. would you..?" Your cheeks turned pink and you couldn't finish your question.

"Yes. Without question, darlin'."

A tear slipped down your cheek and he wiped it away with his thumb, looking down at you like he wanted to take your pain away.

"I wish you would have met me first." You whispered.

He got up and kissed your forehead. "Me too." He mumbled, and you questioned if he actually said it or if you just heard it in your head.

You stopped him before he left the room. "Negan?"

"Yea, doll?"

"Am I still grounded?"

He laughed, thinking for a moment. "Why? Somewhere you need to be?"

"No, actually, I was thinking we could.. spend some time together tonight and watch a movie in the theater room like we used to?"

"Abso-fuckin'-lutely, sweetheart. You gonna let me choose the movie for once?"

"Not a chance." You laughed, knowing you always get your way. And you always will.

Later that night:

The smell of buttery popcorn filtered through your bedroom as you stepped out of the shower. You couldn't help but smile as you got ready for movie night, smothering your skin in your favorite lotion and pulling on your cheekiest pair of underwear. You dug through your t-shirt drawer, pulling out one of Negan's old rock band tees that you stole years ago. It was big enough on you to cover your ass, so you passed on wearing pants.

“So that’s where that shirt went.” He laughed as you walked into the kitchen. “Been looking everywhere for it."

“Oh, I didn’t think you wore it anymore. You can have it back.” You said, making note of how good he looked. His hair was damp from a shower and grey sweatpants rested low on his waist, not leaving much to your imagination. You tried not to stare at the outline of his manhood, but it was impossible not to.

Negan approached you, handing you the popcorn bowl and your favorite candy while he grabbed your drinks.

“No way, darlin’. It looks much better on you.” His tone was flirty as he stood towering beside you, darting his tongue out to slide seductively over his bottom lip. He smelled amazing, too - like leather soap.

"Decide on a movie?" He asked, following behind you down the stairs to the renovated movie room. You had spent so many weekend nights in here as a kid but this was the first time you and Negan would be spending it together alone.

"I was thinking something we haven't seen before. There's a scary movie out that looks good."

"You hate scary movies." He chuckled, setting down the drinks on the coffee table and you did the same, picking up the remote and finding the movie.

"Yeah when I was a kid." You laughed. "Not anymore."

You started the movie and turned off the lights as Negan got settled in his usual spot - the wide chaise lounge end of the sectional where he could rest his legs out in front of him. The couch was hugely oversized, with the lounge part almost the size of a full bed.

You made your way over to the other side of the couch, trying to give him his space and not make it weird.

“The hell are you doing?”

You gave him a weird look. What do you mean?”

“You always sit next to me on movie night. Get your ass over here."

You hoped he couldn't see the excitement on your face as your heart beat out of his chest. He was right - you did always snuggle next to him during movie nights. But that was years ago, before you could look at him without imaging him on top of you screwing your brains out.

“Just like old times, huh?” You grinned, glancing at him as you both munched on the popcorn and watched the slow intro of the movie. You could sense his gaze on you but kept yours on the screen.

“Not exactly.”

“What’s different now?” You asked innocently.

His voice was low and raspy when he answered. “I know how your pussy tastes.”

Your face turned pink and butterflies in your stomach came to life. You didn’t know what to say, so you just looked at him. There was a small smirk on his face and his eyes dropped to your mouth. You were seconds away from crashing your lips to his when a girl in the movie screamed. Negan cleared his throat and focused his attention back to the movie, so you did the same, trying to calm down your racing heart in the process.

You both sat in silence for awhile before Negan leaned over you to put the popcorn on the table. When he settled back into the couch, his arm slid around your back as his thumb slipped underneath your shirt, holding your waist. You felt like your skin was on fire.

He noticed the goosebumps on your bare legs as you shivered from his touch. Reaching for the blanket draped over the back of the couch, he covered you both and you took the opportunity to snuggle into him closer, resting your head on his shoulder and laying your hand over his toned stomach. You wanted to slip your hand under his shirt too but you were frozen, waiting for him to make the next move.

Half of the movie flew by and you had no idea what was going on. All you could think about was Negan. You hid your face during the jump scares each time, using it as an excuse to bury your face in his shirt and smell his manly scent.

"You can look now." He chuckled. You slowly lifted your head from his shirt, and when you did, you locked eyes with him. His hand slid against your cheek, cupping your jaw before he leaned in and pressed his lips to yours softly.

You kissed him back, and he deepened the kiss when he knew you were comfortable with it, letting his tongue slip past your lips and rub against yours. You accidentally whimpered as his other hand finally moved lower on your hip. His fingers teased the edge of your panties before dipping in a few inches until his hand was fully pressed against your ass cheek while he kissed you.

You followed his lead, sliding your hand lower on his stomach until it reached the top of his sweatpants. You felt his dick grow underneath your touch and stroked him through the material. Negan’s hips lifted slightly as he moaned into your mouth.

“I wanna taste you here, too, daddy.” You said, finally pulling away from his mouth and sliding his sweatpants down in the front.

“Baby….” He warned, but he didn’t tell you to stop. So you pushed the material down further until his cock sprang free and bounced against his stomach.

“It’s so big and.. pretty.” You said amazed as you stroked it. You studied the veins in it and noted how tiny your hand looked in comparison.

He chuckled softly, dipping his fingers deeper in your panties until they reached your soaked cunt from behind. “Not as pretty as this little pussy.”

You moaned, pushing your ass into his touch until his finger slid inside you. “Fuckin’ leaking for daddy already.”

You tried to focus on his cock while he fingered you, taking the tip in your mouth and getting it wet before letting it slide to the back of your throat.

“Ahhhh shit, baby, that’s it.” He groaned, leaning his head back with pleasure. You bobbed your head up and down his length while his free hand tangled in your hair and guided you.

“You are fantastic at this, baby girl. Making daddy feel so fucking good.”

A bead of his precum leaked into your mouth and you moaned around his cock, loving the taste of it. Finally coming up for air, you took a deep breath before he pulled you to his lips again and kissed you harder than before. You climbed over him, straddling his lap as he sank a little lower on the couch. Both of his hands reached in your panties and gripped your ass while you hovered over him, feeling his cock brush against you teasingly.

“Negan.. please.. I need you inside me.” You begged between kisses, making him instantly rip your panties apart with his hands before tossing them to the floor.

He guided you by your hips until the tip of his rock hard cock was aligned perfectly with your throbbing entrance.

"You sure this is what you want, baby?"

You answered him by sliding down and taking him as far as you could, stopping when it reached your limit. You whimpered at the pain of trying to take him deeper.

“Come on, doll. You wanted me so bad and now you’ve got me. Take it all.”

You couldn’t believe this was happening. You had never heard him talk this way. Not even through the walls when he fucked your mom. You bit down on your lip and sat on him completely, letting him reach a spot that no one had reached before.

“Oh my god.. fuck.. it hurts.” But in the best, otherworldly way.

“Look at me.” He gripped your jaw. “Focus on me, baby." He whispered, encouraging you trust him while you adjust to his size. You leaned your forehead against his as you started to move up and down. Slowly the pain was replaced with pure pleasure. A feeling you never knew existed before him.

“There you go, baby. Just like that.” He grunted, slipping his hands underneath your shirt and squeezing your tits. "Fuck, doll. You're making me feel so damn good."

Your cheeks were flushed while you moaned and buried your face into the side of his neck. His hands returned to your ass as he helped you bounce up and down on him faster.

Wet slapping sounds and moans from both of you echoed in the room like surround sound, drowning out the movie.

“Negan." You whined in his ear while grabbing at his hair. "I'm-" You couldn't finish your sentence. Your core tightened and your vision went blurry when warm liquid suddenly poured out of you and all over his lap.

“Fuuuck yes, that's my girl.” He groaned, looking down between you at the feeling of your juices coating his cock. He gave your ass a light smack before standing up and bending you over the couch. You still felt lightheaded when he entered you from behind, harder and somehow deeper this time.

“Oh my god! Negan!”

“Who?” He asked, jerking your hair back so that your back arched perfectly.

“Daddy!!” You corrected yourself, earning a small chuckle from him as he fucked you harder and faster.

“Ohh baby, you are such a good girl, taking daddy’s cock like this. You know how bad I’ve wanted to bend you over this fucking couch?”

You answered him with a louder moan while his balls slapped against your skin.

He laughed, breathlessly, pulling you back further by your hair until your back was pressed against his chest. "That day you teased me with your little prick boyfriend? ... It took everything in me not to walk over and fuck you myself. I should have made him watch instead so he could hear what you sound like when you actually cum."

"You should have." You moaned, barely about to speak.

He sucked on your neck before reaching around your waist and finding your clit. You leaned heavily against him as your felt another orgasm growing.

“Negan.. will you cum in me?”

He groaned in your ear. “I can’t baby. We can’t risk that.”

“Don’t you love me, daddy?” You asked innocently.

“So fucking much, sweetheart.” His thrusts became faster and his breathing was unsteady, telling you he was close.

“Then prove it.. Please daddy, cum in me.”

That was all it took for him to let out a loud, long groan and you knew from the way he stopped deep inside of you that ropes of his seed were splattering your walls. You came right after him, being completely sent over the edge with knowing your pussy was full of his cum. You both breathed heavily, coming down from your high before he finally pulled out of you.

“Goddamn. And here I thought you had me wrapped around your finger before. Now? You are mine, all of you, baby.” He said, pulling you in for a kiss.

“Negan.. what are we gonna do?” You asked worried.

“We’ll figure that out later, sweetheart. Right now? I wanna take you up to your room and eat that sweet pussy out till morning.”

[eightmakesonebraincell]

our leaves must fall before our flowers can bloom (teaser)

genre: poly hockey team!ateez x coach fem!reader, enemies/strangers to lovers, athlete!au, slow burn, fluff, angst

length: 1.0k (teaser) + approx. 38k (full fic)

c/w: sweaty ateez (warning well deserved), lots of hurt/comfort, one of the slowest slow burns to slow burn, remaining tags to be revealed with full fic

synopsis: you become the new coach of the elite men's ice hockey team, the red devils. but with both yourself and the team carrying burdens of the past, you all find it difficult to see eye to eye. as you lead them to the championships in the korean ice hockey league, you discover that teamwork and trust is not as straightforward as it seems.

a/n: when i started writing this i really thought it wouldn't exceed 25k but here we are :D full fic will be released in about a week and i am so ready

“she’s the new coach?” yunho frowns in confusion. “no offence, but we’re not a bunch of kids for her to practise being a soccer mum to.”

“she was the assistant coach for the grey eagles,” coach cho discloses.

“the grey eagles? the under-21 men’s championship team?” yeosang looks incredulous.

mingi sceptically comments, “the fact that we’ve never seen or heard of her before probably tells us enough.”

hongjoong’s lips purse sourly as he tries his hardest to analyse the situation with the professionalism of the team’s captain. but with the sudden change in coaches and the same critiquing doubts as mingi, hongjoong cannot help but feel his personal judgement webbing over his mind. over the team’s entire career as an elite ice hockey team thus far–five years, now well into their sixth–the red devils have only ever had two coaches. coach cho has been with them for the longest and whilst it took the team a while to eventually warm up to him, he has been with them for almost quadruple the amount of time it took to trust him.

the team’s alternate captain, seonghwa, speaks to you directly, “if you don’t mind me asking, why are you not playing as an athlete yourself? you’re clearly our age–nowhere near retiring.”

you knew from the very start that your age would make your credibility as a coach much lower, and your answer to seonghwa will not help your case either. “i stopped playing.”

“how come?”

the trigger of memories fills your nose with a sharp stinging smell. you blankly reveal, “i chose to stop playing.” you know exactly how it sounds like to somebody else, even more so to professional athletes. coach cho has also told you of the team’s hardheadedness and strong will when it comes to the passions of their career, so you are expecting the cold receptiveness that you are met with.

your response strikes the wrong chord within wooyoung. there was a point in his career not too long ago when the choice of continuing to play or not was at risk of becoming a forced decision. the way you answer so callously with those very words that had threatened to tear his world apart has his jaw grinding and eyes darkening, and he is not the only athlete in the arena who feels similarly.

“i would rather choose to die before i choose to stop playing. ice hockey is my entire life and without it, i am not living either,” hongjoong jabs and you cannot help but clench your fists because you know exactly what he means. still, you stay quiet as he continues, “sorry, but i can’t respect a ‘coach’ who chose to stop playing.”

at the captain’s words and subsequent move to leave for the changerooms, the rest of the team also gather their equipment and follow his steps. san’s feet falter in front of you, expression hesitant until he decides to voice, “our team needs a bit of time. it’s hard for us to warm up to…outsiders, and i know it might not mean much to say this but we have our reasons. don’t expect us to blindly trust you just because you’re a coach.”

the use of the word ‘outsider’ does not go unnoticed as you nod, “of course.”

san jogs off to rejoin the others and coach cho hums, “guess some things haven’t changed. they were just as prickly to me when i first became their coach.”

you raise an eyebrow, “prickly? to you?”

“yes, believe it or not,” he chuckles nostalgically. “we’ve come a long way because i’ve been their coach for years now. but it took me a while before i was able to break down their walls.”

you briefly mull over the information, then ask out of curiosity, “what would you have done if i didn’t sign the contract?”

“begged you to rethink your decision,” he jokes with a pleased chortle. “i would have to start looking for a different coach, i suppose. you were my only pick.”

“but why me, of all people? there are so many other experienced coaches that you can choose from.”

he looks at you, eyes glinting with intuition and confidence as he simply says, “you’re familiar with their playing style. they play just like you used to.” at your silent processing, coach cho probes, “why didn’t you tell them the real reason?”

you smile wistfully, “i didn't tell them because i’m not here to gain their pity.”

some of the boys’ voices grow louder as they emerge from the changerooms, changed into fresh clothes and their kit bags slung over their shoulders. you hear one of them ask, “captain, is she really going to be our new coach?”

they step out from the facility’s corridor and you accidentally make eye contact with hongjoong, yet neither of you look away. maintaining a steady gaze directly at you, he responds with a slight glower, “maybe, but she’s only the coach by title. i’m still the captain of the team, so let’s see who everyone listens to.”

as they exit the rink’s arena, you feel a fire of determination growing inside of you. you have won over your own demons and you have won the championships before–this is nothing in comparison. whether your next words are for coach cho or for yourself to hear, it does not matter.

“i may not play anymore but i was still once an athlete and no athlete has ever, in their career, wanted pity. i’m here to earn the team’s respect and i will win over them, especially their captain.”

you watch the swing of the glass door as it shuts behind the players, catching a brief glimpse of the trees lining the arena’s perimeter. it is the first day of autumn when you meet the red devils for the first time and outside, the leaves are beginning to change their colours.

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[dunmesh]

okay but did you think about the fact laios already feels responsible for taking her last breath... this story started with falin sacrificing her life for him, dying in front of his eyes- so that "worst case scenario" already happened. at the beginning he thought all he had to do to fix things is simply bring her back to life like they had done before, but then it was his decision that led her to a fate arguably even worse than death; a reality where the very reason he wanted to save her was erased from her mind, with her becoming a chimera puppet. a reality where he is forced to fight a monster in the form of his sister.

for that reason, his choice to kill falin on his own isn't about saving everyone else from the horror of this "possible" outcome as much as it is him finally facing his own guilt for all he had done: from abandoning her during their childhood to bringing her with him to the island and living a life of hunger and danger at the cost of the safe future she could've had without him, eventually resulting in her dying while being all alone. but unlike his choice to leave their village, this time she was the one forcing him to leave her behind- an act that was not only done out of pure love but was also the result of a lifetime of internalizing the notion that everyone she loves always takes priority over herself.

so when it came to that point in chapter 67, killing her was his way of not abandoning her anymore. taking her last breath to carry alone, so he can never let go of her again. even if they wouldn't have succeeded in resurrecting her, then at least he gave her one last precious memory, at least he didn't let her sleep starving again- which is in direct contrast with her death at the beginning of the series that was caused by their hunger and its effects. but more, or perhaps even most importantly, at least he didn't let her die alone this time- having her most beloved person experiencing the horrors of her death with her while her dear friends are witnessing her suffering that she was trying so hard to shield them from until now.

and in those moments, it was without a doubt falin struggling against him along with the dragon. because of her brother forcing her to make a choice once more, she finally revealed her most raw, selfish and intrinsic side by fighting him back, scratching and pushing and screaming and harming the person she always put first instead of quietly giving up her own life. dying by the hands of love instead of dying for love. in choosing herself this time, it might be what gave her soul the strength to choose living by the end of the series- living a life of her own. and for laios, this was just as essential to his personal growth as well as the first step in his atonement: redoing it "the right way".

[rinarin-karimel]

Chapter 431 analysis. why everyone drew the wrong conclusions.

When the first spoiler frames from the volume came out, hell on earth began, some shippers rejoiced at the canonization, others cursed Horikoshi. I was initially going to say that all these wishes of dirty things towards the author are very ugly: at first, when 430 came out, the Katsudeku shippers rejoiced, and the Izuochi shippers wrote Horikoshi curses, and now it's the opposite, and I would like to ask him to behave decently. I was also upset by the leaks, not only because I liked the other ships, but also because I never saw Deku's romantic chemistry with Ochako, and I hate the trope "a good girl is in love with the main character, he doesn't think about her, but in the end they get married" BUT then the whole chapter came out. And no. In the finale, there is no Izuocha as a canonization at all. At all. And it’s not about the ships, but about the fact that many people didn’t understand what the author wanted to say. It's just that some have already gotten wound up and drunk from the "canonization", while others have started to wind themselves up with their disappointment and savor it, pulling things onto it that don't actually confirm their disappointment", that is, we have a crowd effect.

At first, without context, only by spoilers (it has already been confirmed that some of them are false), it seemed romantic in itself. That is, out of context, you can see how the hero notices a girl at a party after the timeskip, and can't take his eyes off her

But in the whole chapter, this page followed this.

And Deku doesn't look in love here, he looks... scared.

What moments before this does this page refer to and parallelize? And these? Deku, Tsuyu notice that Ochako is very ill and she hides her pain, and forces herself to smile.

And this is what parallels this image, which is confirmed by the context of the whole chapter from the very beginning: Ochako is in pain.

8 years of pain and abscess and this is referenced in her conversation with Tsuyu before the party Next: Deku runs to Ochako as he ran after the war: to save her, he saw that his friend needed saving and urgently.

Ochako herself. You might think that this frame is a confirmation that she still loves Deku.

But the whole chapter had a completely different context.

She remembers this moment as if out of a desire to remember it and feel it again, as if wanting to deceive herself that it is still like that. Just pay attention to the frames: Ochako is shown alone in the crowd, her gait is unsteady, she remembers things that happened 8 years ago out of nostalgia and most likely her wishes will be deceived, that she still has this feeling, because she feels empty. That's why she remembers her conversation with Izuku in chapter 428: Ochako longs for salvation again.

In some form, she gets this salvation when in her head she pushes herself on behalf of Toga to live on. In some way, there is a romantic subtext here, Uraraka on behalf of Toga tells herself that she should let her go and try to experience something else, she herself feels a romantic subtext here, remembering her feelings, but are they in love with each other at the moment?

VERY, very unlikely And, so as not to accuse me, I'm not even a Togarako shipper, because I don't like Toga.

Then the fandom carried on and everyone was charged by each other: Izuku left Bakugo and did not go with him to the agency. But A) it goes without saying that he always wanted to be on equal terms with Kacchan, and compete on equal terms, so he wants to quickly become an independent hero. B) and this is the most important thing. The car and their conversation in the car, which was not in the Friday spoilers, and most importantly the context of this conversation.

During the discussion between Kirishima, Katsuki and Izuku that Deku did not agree to work with Katsuki in the same agency, Deku looks at the signed card with All Might and smiles softly and thoughtfully. It would seem: Deku is happy for his friend

But the Context. This is the same card that was next to Katsuki when he died, and Izuku saw him dead. And Izuku considered himself guilty of his death, that he was not there to protect him, he did not manage to arrive in time to save him, he allowed Toga to drag him into the portal, he was distracted, he did not save.

Deku considers himself - guilty. And this is exactly what goes in the context of the conversation about Izuku not agreeing to be with him in the same agency, although he himself once wanted it. Izuku still thinks that he is too Guilty to be near Katsuki. Hence his running away from him, which Katsuki reads as if he is no longer needed.

But who is Deku? The one who was told to keep his heart under lock and key in order to be the heir of One for All. The one who suppressed his emotions since childhood, and made others always believe that he was okay.

And no, this doesn't mean that Deku doesn't care about Kacchan and doesn't love him (in what sense it doesn't matter), Deku thinks that Katsuki would be better off without him and doesn't understand at all how much he hurts Katsuki. Deku - hides his pain after all the traumas of the war still behind a smile on his face, and this is exactly what Uraraka does in the same chapter. That is why Izuku immediately notices that something is wrong with her at the party, because he feels the same way. The very context of how he looks at Uraraka, the guys discuss couples and a happy life, but what Deku remembers before turningon Ochaka? Shigaraki and his injury.

About Deku's blushing: when they clash, he probably blushes because of the sexual context, but during the promise to spend more time with Ochako, this is most likely not the case: it's a promise to save her and shame for himself for not noticing that she needed help earlier, as well as some kind of "self-conviction", when a person tries to convince himself of something that he can handle or deceive himself, his face often heats up: after all, Deku can't "save" himself.

That's why he is the one who reads Uraraka's feelings, their traumas are similar. And as a hero who can't stand aside when someone is in trouble, he runs to give her what she needs: help and salvation. This is not a chapter about the canonization of ships, these are the traumas that haunt them already in adulthood and the story about them.

[sunflowersandsapphires]

Drunk on You

pairing: Frank Castle x fem!reader 

summary: After losing a bet, Frank's drunk night turns into a nightmare when he accidentally leaves a VERY honest voicemail on your phone. (Prompt: "I need to see your phone.")

warnings: swearing, excessive drinking (do NOT do this.), Frank being affectionate

a/n: This wasn't requested by anyone, I just saw this prompt and immediately pictured Frank freaking out about a voicemail he left on someone's phone. A huge shout out to @gracethyomen and @madschiavelique who I forced into beta-ing this for me multiple times. As always, comments and reblogs are appreciated. Thank you!

w/c: 6k (Yah, i know. I got carried away.)

Frank liked to think that he was decently romantic—so it was almost embarrassing that your relationship happened by accident. 

He didn’t possess a natural charm, like the one that Red always flaunted, but he could usually hold his own when he found someone attractive. Before…everything, his cocky attitude and unjustified youthful arrogance helped him flirt with Maria. Since the loss of his family, flirting was more of a pastime. Until you. 

From the moment you both met, Frank had known that you were different—that you were never meant to be a casual fling. It terrified him, at first, but after many many lectures from Curtis, he was ready to try a relationship again. 

Despite that fact, he could never seem to get the words out. 

Flirting with you was as easy as pulling a trigger, but being honest and open about his feelings? Never his strong suit. He was just thankful that Curtis believed in boundaries and David was oblivious, otherwise you would’ve gotten the news through the grapevine weeks before he blurted it out. 

It all started when David scolded him.

“Language, Castle. This is a family establishment.” His stern tone was completed with a pointed finger.

The two men were seated on opposite sides of the Lieberman’s sturdy dining room table, on the precipice of one of their classic “Family Dinner Spats”–a term Curtis had coined exasperatedly a few weekly meals ago. You, Sarah, and Curt were also currently at the table, nursing your wine while the kids played video games in the living room.

Smirking at David's tone, you raised a brow at the curly haired man. “Can you really call your suburban house an ‘establishment’?”

Frank chuckled at your attempt to defend him, his lips parting around the lip of his beer bottle in a smug smile.

“The house has been established, and there is a family present.” David snapped at you with a no-nonsense look. Looking at his wife incredulously, he threw his hands in a vague gesture. “C’mon Sarah, back me up!”

Sarah shrugged at him, grinning at his defeated groan. Shooting you and Frank a knowing look, she murmured, “We’ve all heard worse.“

Desperate for someone to agree with him, David glanced across the table pleadingly. “Curtis? C’mon man.”

Sighing, Curtis nodded, his lips twitching in a tiny smile. “You do have a foul mouth, Frank. There are children present.”

Frank scoffed, gesturing widely to the two teenagers in the other room.

Crinkling your nose as you stifled a laugh, you nodded solemnly. “They sort of have a point, Frank. Your vocabulary could make a sailor blush.”

Finally vindicated, David crowed, “You practically only speak in curses and grunts!”

The marine gaped. “Christ, I am not that bad.”

Smelling a game, David’s eyes glinted with mischief. “Oh yah? I bet you couldn’t go a week without swearing.

Sarah and Curtis took the vague challenge, and Frank’s responding bitter laugh, as their cue to leave the table, murmuring about cleaning up after dinner and chuckling to each other as they left. You, unfortunately, were far too intrigued to remove yourself from the conversation.

Good thing you were entertained, because David was far from finished with his accusations. “You know what? I don’t think you could even last a single day without that sinfully filthy language of yours, Castle.”

Frank rolled his eyes, but his jaw was tense. “Ya gonna make me a swear jar, Lieberman? What are you, my ma?”

David shrugged, pleased at how easily he was able to get under the hulking man’s skin. “Someone has to teach you some manners.”

You tapped a finger on your chin, meeting David’s roguish gaze. “He’s right though, a swear jar would never compel him to change.”

David crossed his arms. “And you have a better suggestion?”

Frank glanced at you, brow raised in curiosity, lips pursed.

You grinned manically. “Maybe a drinking game? Every curse word he says within 24 hours means he takes a shot.”

The technician erupted in bellowing laughter. “YES!”

Ignoring him, Frank smirked at you. “Tryin’ to get me drunk, sweetheart?”

You placed a hand over your heart in mock surprise. “Don’t tell me you’re chicken, Frankie.”

The large man bristled, straightening his posture as he shook his head. “Course not.”

David was glowing. “So you accept?”

“Uh—“ Frank’s hesitation was quickly settled by your adorable expression, your head tilted at him as you anticipated his next move. “Fuck, I guess.”

Practically screeching, David pointed a finger at the man, looking at you excitedly. “Oh my god, that counts right? That totally counts!”

Laughing as David practically began a victory dance, you raised your glass of wine. ”Let the game begin!”

What had he gotten himself into?

Unfortunately for his liver, the next 24 hours did not get easier.

With the combined efforts of you, Curtis, David, and the various CCTV systems of New York city, the tally landed at 52 curses in 24 hours.

“Holy shit, Frank,” You gaped at the final count, turning to him with wide eyes. “Were you even trying?”

Frank glowered, sinking further into the booth next to you. “Yes.”

“Well, we’re gonna need to change these rules a bit. Otherwise, you’ll need a transplant by next week.” You frowned, eyes glowing with the light of David’s computer screen.

“Don’t tell me you’ve gone soft now, doll.” Frank muttered, the corner of his lips lifting up against his will.

“I’m always soft on you, tough guy.”Your words were earnest, causing Frank's throat to constrict. You raised a hand to pinch his cheek, seemingly unperturbed by his furious blush.

As if knowing he was ruining the moment, David returned to the table with a tray of half a dozen shot glasses. “Who’s ready to get wasted?”

Groaning, Frank dropped his head into his hands—his stomach already churning.

“New rules:” You announced, “No more than 7 drinks an hour.”

“Woah woah woah, who died and made you referee?” David scoffed.

“Everyone who has ever taken 52 shots in one night.” You retorted, refusing to change your mind.

While David began placing a row of tiny glasses in front of him, you took one of Frank's calloused hands in your much more delicate one. He raised his head to meet your serious gaze. “Hey, you do not have to do this. It was a stupid bet.” You were chewing on your bottom lip, his hand itched to cup your face and smooth the furrow in your brow.

“Um, he does so have to do this! I already put my card down. Drink up, asshole!” As David shoved the alcohol towards him, your arm shot out, acting as a barricade.

Looking at him with an inquisitive concern, you stroked your thumb over his knuckles. With a sigh, Frank grasped one of the shots between two fingers, downing it with a grimace.

David cheered. “Thattaboy! Drink up!!”

Biting your lip, you slid a single shot towards yourself and one to David. “If he’s going to do this, he’s not doing it alone. Drink up, Lieberman.” You teased, parroting his words before downing your own shot with a grace that was shocking and incredibly attractive. 

“Damn, that’s smooth. You shelled out for us.” You snorted, setting the shit glass back on the sticky table. 

Pouting at the tiny cup of clear liquid, David groaned. “I haven’t had tequila since college.”

“Sounds like you made a poor choice of beverage then. Drink!” You grinned at him, face warming as Frank slid an arm around your shoulders.

“She’s gotta point, Lieberman. You’ve dug your own grave. I ain’t drinkin’ another drop until you take that.” Frank smirked, eyes dancing with a mirth that you’d been missing.

“C’mon David!” You encouraged, the curly-haired man across from you finally nodding and downing the drink with a gag.

You and Frank cheered, laughing as he coughed in the aftermath.

“Alright, it’s gone. Your turn.” David nodded to the three remaining shots, crossing his arms impatiently.

Huffing out a breath, Frank tossed all three back, chasing the acrid taste with a swig of the beer he’d purchased himself without thinking. “There, ya fuckin’ happy now?”

“Thrilled.” David laughed. “We’re going to wait…15 minutes, and then I’m going to hustle you in pool.” Setting a timer on his watch, the engineer missed Frank’s exaggerated eye roll.

“Doesn’t a hustle require one party to not know they’re being hustled?” You asked, settling into Frank’s side with a smile.

“I could kick your ass with my eyes closed, Lieberman.” Frank snorted.

“Oh please, it's all geometry–I'm a whiz at geometry.”

Listening to them bicker, you couldn't help but smile. Sipping your beer, you crossed your legs, excited for the upcoming show.

As Frank's inhibitions grew steadily lower, you were joined at the booth by Curtis and Karen–both of whom were humored by the giant man's state, but not free of their own worry.

“Y’all trying to kill him?” Curtis chuckled, eyes focused on Frank's uncharacteristically wide grin as he slid into the booth across from you, beer in hand.

“Trust me, I’ve been negotiating Lieberman down all night to spare his intestines.” You huffed, your own gaze fixated on Frank as he lined up his next shot at the pool table, muscles bulging against his tight shirt as he bent over.

“See something you like?” Karen asked gleefully, lips curled in a smirk.

“Shut up,” You hissed, squirming in your seat as your body was hit with a flash of warmth.

“He's not making this easy for you, is he?” Curtis chuckled, sending Karen a knowing look.

“Does he always get so…touchy when he’s drunk?” You asked quietly, trying not to salivate as you got a perfect view of Frank's ass, his back turned towards you as he played his next turn.

Letting out a bark of laughter, Curtis shook his head at you.

“Oh stop it,” You groused, ignoring your friends' giggles as you slid off of the vinyl bench and made straight for the bar.

“Um whiskey. Neat, please.” You stammered out your order to the bartender, trying not to cringe at how disjointed the words sounded. Your mind was entirely preoccupied by the feelings you harbored for the man currently guffawing behind you. The scraping of glass on wood startled you out of your daydream.

Taking the glass from the bartender, trying not to meet their gaze as they eyed you suspiciously, you nodded a thank you.

Before you could return to your seat, a thick arm wrapped around your shoulders--a sensation that would've been horrifying had it not been accompanied by a familiar voice.

“When did ya start drinkin’ whiskey?” Frank's deep rasp ignited a heat deep in your gut, stealing the words straight off your tongue.

”I-I, uh didn't,“ You squeaked out, shoving the glass to Frank's chest. “I figured you’d want something other than mid-shelf tequila.” Looking up at him through thick lashes, your breath caught in your throat as you met his stare.

Frank's lips were tilted in a small smile, the tension he normally carried in his jaw nowhere to be found. His cheeks were flushed, his hair mussed from running his hands through it throughout the night. Boring into you, his beautiful ochre eyes crinkled with a happiness you rarely saw from the man.

A rough knuckle tipped your jaw upwards, shutting your mouth, which had apparently been hanging open as you admired the figure before you. “Somethin' on my face, sweetheart?”

Tilting his head, his eyes twinkled, his smile growing wider as you remained silent. “No, Frankie.”

“Good. C'mon, I need someone to cheer for me when I whup Lieberman's ass for a third time.” Frank snorted, pressing a kiss to your crown before taking your hand and dragging you towards the pool table.

The rest of the night flew by, a symptom of the intense focus you held on Frank's relaxed drunken nature. He'd been tipsy with you before, so you'd caught glimpses of this behavior from the man previously, but it would always catch you off guard to see him so...easygoing.

It wasn't that Frank wasn't affectionate, he was incredibly sweet, he just wasn't usually so forthcoming with his emotions. Nor was he normally content snuggling with you in public.

Rubbing his nose against your hair, Frank gave a sleepy hum before pulling back to down the rest of the ice water you'd forced into his grasp. His hand was gently gripping your waist, thumb tracing lines over your hip as your friends chatted. Frank was much too tired to be paying any attention, and your ability to retain any conversation topic flew out the window the moment his hand landed on your side.

Watching as his free hand lifted to clumsily scrub at his face, you frowned. “Wanna call it a night, Frank? You look ready to drop.”

“'M fine.” He grumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose. Shit, you'd hoped the water would stave off the impending headache for now.

“The kid's right.” David remarked, smirking at your offended scoff. “If I'm beat, you must be half dead. I'll go close the tab."

"Can the rest of you make it home ok if I handle this one?" You asked, kneading at Frank's neck as he dropped his head to your shoulder with a grumpy huff.

"Yah, we can get David home in one piece." Karen promised, squeezing Frank's arm as she passed. "Goodnight."

"Ok, tough guy. You gotta get out so I can get out," You murmured, nudging the marine as carefully as possible.

Grumbling under his breath, he slid out of the booth, grabbing the table as he listed sideways.

"Christ, Frankie. Hold on, I gotcha." You grunted as he leaned against you, his weight shifting you off balance. Wrapping an arm around his waist in a motion similar to the one he'd made mere minutes ago, you shuffled towards the door. "Ok, Castle, you gotta work with me a little bit here."

As the two of you neared the exit, you heard an indignant squawk from the bar. "I OWE HOW MUCH??"

Chuckling softly, Frank's skull knocked against yours. "We'd better get outta here, sweetheart."

The two of you made it back to Frank's tiny apartment without incident, though the man was stumbling all the way. When you reached his front door, he snatched his keys from his pocket, tossing them at you without a word. 

Not expecting the projectile, the ring of keys hit you square in the chest, your chin following them as they crashed to the grimy carpet underneath your feet. Looking at Frank with narrowed eyes, you raised an eyebrow. “Was that really necessary?”

Frank chuckled quietly, his laugh as close to a giggle as it would probably ever get. His half-lidded eyes creased as he grinned at you. “Sorry,” The apology was undercut by the shit-eating expression on his face. 

“Drag your ass all the way home, breaking my back doing so–mind you,” You complained halfheartedly, your chest swelling with fondness as Frank’s raspy laughs continued. “And you just throw your shit at me.” 

Shaking your head, you let your smile betray you as he kissed your forehead. “You’re unbelievable, Castle.” 

“Thanks for puttin’ up with me.” His stubble scratched your skin as he spoke, his lips still resting against your temple. 

“Anytime, big guy.” Your eyes fell closed as his hand rubbed over your lower back.

After a minute, Frank spoke again. “Are ya gonna open the door, or am I gonna have to sleep in the hallway?” 

“Jesus Christ.” You groused, breaking out of his hold to squat down and grab his keys.

Just like that, Frank was back in stitches, shifting his weight to the door frame as his body shook with near silent laughter.

Shoving the key in the lock, you opened the door and shoved at him gently. "Get in there, goofball."

Shuffling inside, Frank beelined for the couch, collapsing onto it with his boots still on. Rolling your eyes, you followed him in, crouching by his feet to start unlacing his shoes.

Wriggling on his stomach, he craned his neck to look at you. “Whattya doin'?”

“Taking your shoes off, Frankie.” You explained without stopping your actions.

Grumbling, he flapped an arm at you clumsily. “Leave 'em.”

Huffing with exasperated affection, you ignored him. "You'll be more comfortable if I take them off, Frank."

You received a disgruntled noise in response, but his arm stopped moving. Face squashed against a throw pillow, his eyes were closed and his pink lips were parted--soft breaths slipping in and out of them every so often.

Finally pulling his second boot off, you sat back on your heels with a satisfied sigh. Standing as quietly as you could, you strode to the tidy kitchen.

Given that you were well-acquainted with Frank's place, you moved around the apartment with ease, finding the sparse first aid kit that he possessed and making a mental note to bring some supplies by soon. Sure, Frank would manage—he was the most capable man you'd ever met—but you wanted to make his life easier in any way you could.

Which is why you grabbed a few individually wrapped pain pills and placed them on the coffee table, along with a glass of water. Now for the difficult part.

"Frank, I know you're comfy like this but you have to turn to your side for me." You spoke softly, running a hand up his arm and pushing in the direction he needed to turn.

"Hngh..." Frank protested sleepily. "Why?"

Stifling a smile at the grumpy face he made, you continued to push. "C'mon, you big baby. On your side, so you don't choke and die overnight."

Huffing frustratedly, Frank flopped onto his side, glaring at you.

“Thank you. Do you need a blanket?” You asked, laughing indignantly when he flipped you off. “That was an actual question, asshole.”

Standing up, you took a step towards the worn armchair on the other side of the coffee table, nearly tumbling over when a force tugged on your wrist. Eyes closed again, Frank was poorly hiding a smile as he yanked your arm towards him with more strength than his inebriated self should have been capable of. 

“Oh, I’m sorry, are you feeling nice now?” You grumbled, balancing your weight over him precariously as you tried to escape his hold.

Tugging your arm again, Frank muttered a jumble of grouchy nonsense.

“Christ, Frank.” You snorted, rolling your eyes to the ceiling before sliding your palms underneath his shoulders to shift him over. Squishing onto the couch next to his head, you found yourself smiling as he wriggled towards you, settling his head into your lap with a relieved exhale. “Has anyone ever told you you’re a piece of work when you’re drunk?”

Your murmur was more for yourself than for him, but he responded nonetheless. “M’ria.”

It was far from the first time he’d spoken to you about his late wife, but hearing her name fall from his lips when he was in such a vulnerable state felt like a swift punch to the gut. Regaining your composure, you threaded your fingers into his hair. “Go to sleep, Frankie.”

As your nails softly scratched at his scalp, darkness crept into the corners of his vision, his eyes fluttering closed again.

The next few hours passed like fractions of a dream. A warm pliant surface beneath his cheek, a cool hand running through his hair. A whispered conversation and hushed groans. A loss of contact.

Somewhere in the haze of alcohol-induced fatigue, Curtis appeared, taking over your role as his babysitter. Curt was good at taking care of him...he was a lot less pretty than you were, though.

“Christ, I'm gonna pretend I didn't hear that.” Curtis griped, insulted by comment Frank hadn't intended to share, shoving a bottle of some form of sports drink at him. “Drink this.”

Scowling, Frank took a long swig. As he was gulping down the sugary liquid, his eyes locked on a piece of fabric draped over the back of the couch. Setting the drink down, and nearly spilling it all over himself in the process, he grabbed clumsily for the coat, clutching it to his chest when his fingers finally landed around it. ”She forgot it.“

”What?“ Curtis, rubbing a knuckle between his brows, looked unamused.

”Her coat, Curt.“ Frank whispered, holding it out to show the other man. ”We gotta find her. She forgot it. It's winter.“

Shaking his head with a huff, Curtis dropped his head into his hands. ”I'm sure she'll be fine without it for a night. Go to sleep, Frank.“

Frank frowned, still focused on the piece of plastic in his hands.

Grappling his pocket, he eventually pulled out his phone and flipped it open, squinting at the bright screen as it powered on. Scrolling through the list of contacts, he found the one he wanted and dialed.

”Frank,“ Curtis sighed, but didn't stop him from calling you.

Receiving your voicemail, Frank groaned. “Sweetheart, you better not be frozen to death out there somewhere. You left your coat here. You gotta come and get it, ok? I don't want you to be cold.”

”Hang up and sleep, Castle.“ Called the medic from Frank's bedroom. When had he gone in there?

Ignoring his friend's explicit instructions, Frank sighed. “Please come back. I like having you here. You just...you take such good care of me, and I really don't deserve it, but you do it anyways, and--” The phone was snatched out of his hand.

“Frank says goodnight.” Curtis snapped into the phone before ending the call.

“Hey!” Frank glowered, fumbling for Curtis's hand to take the device back.

“Go to sleep, Frank. You can talk to her tomorrow. Trust me, you'll be grateful I took this away when you've sobered up. You don't need to be spilling your secrets to her over voicemail.“ Spreading a blanket over Frank, Curtis glared at him. ”Close your eyes, Marine. I am not playing games with you tonight.“

Rolling to his other side so that Curtis couldn't see him, he smirked at the other man's final snort. ”Real mature, Frank. I'm taking your bed. I'll be out to check on you every once in a while.“

As Curtis retreated into the other room, Frank waited impatiently, staring at the back of the couch until he heard a door close. Grinning in satisfaction, he withdrew his burner phone from his other pocket, opening it up and inputting your number.

“Sorry, Curt hung up the phone. I wasn't done talking to ya. I like talkin' to ya, it makes me feel...god, I'm bad at this. I dunno, sweetheart, you make me feel good...special. I haven't felt that way in a long damn time. But you just make it seem so easy. You make everything seem so easy...”

The intense rolling of his stomach is what ruptured his unconsciousness, igniting a spark of adrenaline powerful enough to carry him to the bathroom so he could collapse in front of the toilet.

God, he felt fucking awful. His head was pulsing with the beginnings of a migraine, his throat burned with acid as he emptied his stomach repeatedly. Moaning with regret, he slapped the lever to flush the toilet, sinking back against the cool porcelain of the bathtub behind him.

“Was wondering when that would happen. David owes me 20 bucks.” Curtis leaned against the doorframe of the bathroom with his arms crossed, smirking at Frank's evident misery.

“Glad I could help.” Frank muttered, digging the heel of his hand into one of his eyes in an attempt to offset some of the building pressure in his skull.

“You look like shit.” Curtis chuckled, passing him a glass of water and a bottle of painkillers.

“Fuck off.” Frank grumbled, rinsing out his mouth before throwing back a few pills.

“Well, clearly you're feeling more like yourself. Christ.” Curtis snorted.

“God, Curt, what happened last night?” Frank grimaced. 

“Besides you drinking enough to kill a racehorse? Not much. Unless you count me discovering your collection of burner phones as ‘interesting’.”

Curtis’s words were innocuous, but Frank felt a wave of dread crash over him at the implications. 

“What collection?“ He asked mournfully, hoping fiercely that Curt didn’t mean–

“The one you were using to call your girl.” Fuck. “Every time I turned around, there was a new phone in your hands. Can't say I didn't try to stop you from making an ass of yourself, you just managed to do it anyway.”

“Fuck!” Frank cursed. That was exactly what he was hoping to avoid. “Please tell me you're jokin'.”

“Unfortunately not, Frank.“ The other man laughed, but his brow pinched in sympathy. “You're gonna have some explaining to do, I expect.”

“Fuck me. What did I say?” He looked to his friend pleadingly, feeling like his impending doom was perched just over his shoulders.

“I didn't catch all of it, but the parts I heard were pretty damning.” Curtis rubbed the back of his neck, avoiding Frank’s intense eyes.

Mustering the dwindling energy he had, Frank lurched to his feet, stumbling towards the door. Thankfully, Curtis caught him when his balance faltered after a few steps.

“Woah, shit, Frank! Where are you goin'?” Curtis chastised preemptively, letting Frank lean against him as he ambled to the foyer.

“To apologize, or delete that message. Whatever needs to be done.” Frank’s jaw was stiff, his voice gruff with fear and discomfort. Undraping his arm from Curt’s shoulders, Frank bent down to grab his boots, halting as the motion caused a spike of pain to shoot through his brain. Clenching his fingers around his thighs, he bit his tongue to keep from hurling again.

“Jesus, Frank. This isn't a goddamn military operation.” Curt scoffed, kicking Frank’s shoes closer to him with a grunt.

Frank huffed a bitter laugh. “You're right, that would be easier.” Squatting down, Frank shoved his boots on and laced them up.

“You need serious help, you know that?” Curtis sighed, only waiting a moment before slipping his own shoes on. “C'mon. I'll drive you.”

Tipping your chin up, you let the final dregs of your latte trickle across your tongue, silently begging for those few drops to contain the caffeine you'd need for the rest of the day. You were practically giddy with lack of sleep and the immense amount of sugar you'd dumped into the coffee to make it palatable–you weren't used to so many extra espresso shots.

After looking out for Frank at the bar, wrangling him on the journey home, leaving abruptly to accompany your distraught roommate and her accident-prone boyfriend to the hospital, and then staying with said roommate all night while her boyfriend got a cast put over his broken arm–you were understandably exhausted. And, if you were honest with yourself, a bit aggravated that you'd been ripped away from Frank when he was so unusually receptive to your affection.

It wasn't as if you could just call Curtis and ask to switch roles again, it was almost noon. Frank would probably be up and hungover by now–far grouchier than the cuddly lump he'd become last night when he passed out on your lap. No use to mourn that loss any further, you supposed. It wouldn't be that hard to make him agree to another bet, after all. 

Lounging on the couch, your eyes slipped shut for a moment, flying open in shock when you heard a knock at the door. Of course someone would show up right after you sat down. Inhaling deeply to keep from groaning, you dragged yourself off of the couch and to the door. Huh, speak of the devil.

Unlatching the door, you rested a hand on your hip as you took in the posture of the man before you. Frank looked awful, a perfect example of the saying “green around the gills”. He was slouched forward, barely meeting your gaze, and his complexion was so alarmingly pale that it was more translucent. Before you could ask what the hell he was doing on your doorstep, he spoke.

“I need to see your phone.” His tone was pained and especially gravelly, which made sense given how hungover he must be right now.

“Damn, Castle. Hello to you too.” You laughed, the humor of it not fully reaching your eyes as concern churned in your gut. Stepping out of the way, you allowed him to stride past you into the apartment. 

Looking over his shoulder at you sheepishly, he cringed. “Sorry, hi. Your phone?”

Well he’s clearly on a mission. You had to admit, you were curious what he was so riled up about. 

Your eyes narrowing, you gestured to where it sat on the counter, anchored by its designated cord. “It's charging. It died while I was running around last night and I just got home, so.” Frowning in confusion, you picked it up to show him. 

“Thank god.” Frank let his face fall into his palms, collapsing onto your couch. 

“Why do you need my phone, Frank?” Intrigue still piqued, you flicked a thumb across the screen to activate your phone.

Realizing he’d made a fatal error in his anguished haze, Frank swiveling in his seat, craning his neck just in time to see a massive grin break out across your face. “Shit wait–”

“Jesus Frank, are you ok? Why did you call me so many times?” You laughed, scrolling through the myriad of notifications you’d apparently missed from him. 

“Sweetheart I'm begging you–” Standing on his wobbly legs, he hurried to remove the device from your hands, but it was too late.

“You left multiple voicemails?” You looked at him with an almost pompous smile, clearly taking satisfaction in his downfall.

“Please don’t–” He made for your phone, but his reflexes were lacking. Spinning just out of his reach, you raised the phone above your head victoriously.

“Voicemail number one!” You announced proudly, pressing play on the recording. 

Frank’s voice sounded tinny through the small speakers, or maybe it was just being drowned out by the ringing in his ears. “You forgot your coat…”

“Aw, Frank, that's so sweet!” You spoke over the short message, your lip sticking out slightly as you looked at him with gratitude.

Stepping towards you with his palms displayed, he tried for a placating tone. “Yup. That was all, no need to listen to any more of–”

“Voicemail number 2!” You crowed, darting out of the kitchen as he grabbed wildly for the offending phone once more. 

“Sorry, Curt hung up the phone...”

“This ain't funny.” Frank growled, scurrying after you into the living room “Turn those off!” 

“You left them for me!” You giggled, holding the phone to your ear and squealing with delight at his first confession.

“You make everything seem so easy–”

“Aw, Frank–”

“It's so hard for me to focus when you're around–”

By the grace of some higher power, his drunk rambling cut off. Nearly keeling over, he leaned heavily against the back of your couch. “Thank Christ.”

“VOICEMAIL NUMBER 3!” You said gleefully, practically dancing with joy as Frank resumed chasing you.

“Goddamn it.” He muttered. He should have known he wasn’t that lucky.

“I can't stop thinkin' about ya–”

His words were coming back to him now, and it was crystal clear that he had very limited time to retrieve the phone before your relationship with him was irreparably damaged. Nearly bowling your coffee table over, he managed to snatch the hem of your sweatshirt, but you simply slipped out of it and resumed your lap of the space. 

“I can never stop thinkin about ya–”

You leapt onto the couch and over the arm, making for your bedroom. How on earth were you this agile after last night? He was pretty sure this would be the last thing he ever did. 

“I hope you made it home safe–”

You stumbled around your bed frame and Frank saw an opening. 

“You shoulda stayed here with me–”

His eyes narrowed, vision tunneling like a predator’s. Frank bounded forward and your eyes widened as you realized he had you cornered.

“I'll always keep you safe–”

Finally, he arrived within the distance he needed, snatching you by the waist and spinning you into him. Your chests were pressed together, quivering with the force of labored breaths, but before he could hit the power button– 

“Cause, I dunno, I just love ya, sweetheart. I'd never let anythin' happen to ya.”

His world blurred, his heart pounding so aggressively it felt like it was creeping out of his rib cage. It was done. It was over.

Panting, you looked up at him with a furrowed brow. His heart sank as he watched the realization crawl across your face. 

“You...you love me?” You asked meekly as Frank took a step away from you.

His entire body felt like it was on fire, he couldn’t decide whether he needed to scream or be sick. An apology roosted on his tongue, but his mouth was too dry for the words to come out.

“You love me.” You murmured, looking at the phone as if it would explain his words for you.

“I'm so sorry, I wasn't thinkin'–” He choked out, scrambling backwards sloppily so that he wouldn’t witness your pity.

“Frank–” You spoke softly, the sympathetic edge to your words cutting his composure like a blade.

“Christ, I'll just go, I'm sorry–” He whispered, his throat tightening with immense regret.

“Frank” Your fingers suddenly wrapped around his wrist, turning him back to face you. He inhaled deeply, bracing himself for the rejection and subsequent loss of connection that he’d stupidly caused. But it never came. 

Instead, your free hand cupped his neck, pulling his lips to meet yours. His knees wavered, nearly giving out as your soft lips met his. He was bombarded with surprise and affection and relief. Pulling back from him, you rubbed a finger over his nape and smiled softly.

“I love you too.”

“You–” He was too shocked to even ask a full question. His knees finally gave out and he fell against you. 

“Woah, careful there, tough guy.” You chuckled, nudging him backwards so that he crumbled onto your mattress instead of taking you both to the ground. 

Listing sideways onto your mattress, he let you prod at his limbs until he was fully seated. Bile was swiftly rising in his throat, but whether it was from the chase or the resulting emotions, he was unsure. Swallowing roughly, he grimaced. 

Biting your lip, you let go of his wrist to stroke your blissfully cool fingers along his cheek. “Let me get you some water, ok? I’ll be right back.”

Eyes falling closed, Frank took a handful of measured breaths, lips twitching with a small smile despite his current agony. You loved him too. He had a feeling that he should be skeptical, but he was experiencing too much to consider that at the moment. For now, he would just accept this outcome, however miraculous it might seem. 

Hearing your soft footsteps back into the room, he opened his eyes–immediately regretting it when his head convulsed with a renewed stab of pain. Moaning softly, he scrunched his eyes shut, bringing his thumbs up to his brows to knead them in the hope it would lessen the ache. 

“Head bothering you?” Your voice was impossibly soft as you knelt by his side, gently prying one of his hands away from his face and pressed a cold glass into it. 

“Yah. Sorry sweetheart, didn’t mean to crash here.”

“Don’t you dare apologize. I already texted Curt and told him you’d be staying here for a bit.” Pulling back your sheets on the other side of the bed, you propped yourself up next to him. “Tired?”

Grumbling affirmatively, Frank tilted his head into your shoulder, rolling as far into you as he could stomach. “But we should probably–”

“We got all the time in the world, sweetheart.” You stroked his stubbled chin languidly, smirking as his expression relaxed beneath your touch. “Just sleep. After last night, we both need it.”

“God, I love you.” He murmured, throwing an arm over your hips and letting you nestle in close. 

You pressed a kiss to his forehead. “I love you too, Frank.” 

Frank made a mental reminder to buy Lieberman a beer the next time they went out. He’d never admit it to David, but he was beyond grateful that his uninhibited self had finally made a move. 

Feeling more content than he had in months, he let himself drift off to the sound of your soft breathing.

Thanks for reading!!

[stubz]

Injuries and a ship invasion, no one dies

"Why do they let humans take care of our younglings? If it hadn't been for the coalition then it would've been another century till they realize our existence. Their senses have dulled to the point where its laughable that they are the dominating species of their planet. And lets not forget the fact that they're at constant war with each other over the most stupidest things, color of skin, where one lives, who they love, what they believe, etc."

"Calis stop it! Your being a xenophobe. And while some of that is true you should know by now that the humans care deeply for our children."

"I am simply being concerned parent who worries for their young's safety and well-being...we are in a dangerous area right now, the middle of a war zone, and it would make me feel safer if we had some others at the care centre till reinforcements arrive."

"Trust me my brightest, the humans will do everything they can to ensure the safety of our Dali...and knowing them they'll likely surprise you and live up to their reputation."

"...fine, fine, I apologize, you are right. The humans have surprised me so far, what's one more?"

.

..

...

....

"WHERE IS DALI?! WHERE IS MY YOUNGLING CAPTAIN!"

"Calis calm down! Your arm!"

"NO! YOU DON'T GET TO TELL ME TO CALM DOWN WHEN ENEMY FORCES HAVE INVADED OUR SHIP AND NONE OF US CAN FIND OUR YOUNG!!"

"Calis, your hurt and so is your partner. Think of Gala, they need you right now."

"...Gala is hurt because they were looking for Dali. They got shot because they were heading to the centre...I have to find Dali. For Gala, Captain."

"I'm sure that Kim and Max are doing everything they can to keep them safe."

"With all do respect Captain, how could 2 unarmed humans survive what our force couldn't."

"...I don't know but its probably going to be one hell of a story we'll be telling for the ages. Now go get your arm treated. That's an order."

.

..

...

....

"WE FOUND THEM!"

"CAPTAIN WE FOUND THE YOUNGLINGS!"

"WE NEED A CRANK AND SEND EVERY AVAILABLE MEDIC!"

"oh great stars please no...nonononono DALI!" the Delzah rushed forward, breaking through the search party, only to be stopped by their captain.

"Calis...you have to let them do their job. We, we just have to hope." he could not help the hitch in his breath. Hoping, praying, that his own child was okay underneath the wreckage that was once the youngling care centre.

They fight and thrash until eventually grief overtakes them. They collapse into the captain's arms wailing.

"...what hope do I have that my child is alive under all that rubble. Captain...the only hope I have is that they died quick and that they are with the stars now..."

"Oh Calis..." he sobs. He knows it. There was hardly a chance that anyone was still alive underneath there. Only the strongest younglings who were from a strong species may survive and his child was not one of those few. They were strong but his child was like him...a runt, the joke of the family. Too small, too weak, too soft. She was surely dead...why couldn't it have been him?

"MAPA!"

"PAPA!"

One by one, children emerge from an opening made in the rubble, and at the front of them was Dali and a small feline like child.

"my glorious star" flinging themself from the Captain Calis dragged themself to meet Dali who leaped into their Mapa's arms.

The captain was not too far behind, running to his daughter and cradling her close. Words were not exchanged but Calis could feel the vibrations coming from their purrs.

"See...I told you they would be waiting..."

last to emerge from the rubble was the humans, carried out on stretchers. Only one was conscious. Glass glittered from their skin, dirt and dust blended with vibrant red blood, staining their white bandages, and a rebar was poking out of the unconscious one's side.

"You...got everyone right?"

"Yes, human Max."

"Good...that's good..." and finally did they lose consciousness.

.

..

...

....

"Apparently they covered the windows and hid the kids in the storage room, putting them to the farthest corner while they formed a human wall in front of the door.

When those quiznaking bastards couldn't break down the door they rigged the centre with explosives. Lucky for us the humans personally requested that the storage room be made durable for the equivalent of their disasters on earth so it held up decently well."

"But how did they get so injured?"

"Decently well, meaning the room wasn't completely stable. Eventually the walls started to give and the humans had to improvise by becoming the new pillars. They took shifts until they both had to hold up the weight for what the kids guess to be 3 hours...imagine holding up all of that weight until you were on your hands and knees with rebars, broken glass, and debris piercing into your body."

"...Gala said that Human Max nearly flatlined and Human Kim needed 2 liters of blood."

"You seem confused."

"...Humans are impressive but how did they do all of that? They were already injured and yet managed to hold up a collapsed ceiling for hours until help arrived, I thought they were completely average and even weaker than us."

"Apparently when their loved ones, especially children, are in danger they tap into their more primal instincts. Allowing them to withstand a shot to the side, a slab of concrete to the head, and hours of keeping a ceiling from collapsing until they know everyone is safe.

Heard a story of a human who died only after he saw his kids was safe from a fire."

"Looks like Gala was right. Humans have surprised me once again."

[woso-dreamzzz]

Captain II

Hardersson x Daughter!Reader

Fridolina Rolfö x Hardersson!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: You come home after being announced as captain

In true Magda fashion, everyone in her contact list gets a call. A quick 'did you hear my kid's Sweden Captain?' call where she ends it before the other person can reply.

You get a text and several missed calls that you just ignore until you're free to go to your mothers' house. It was a slip that had you forgetting to tell them that you were Sweden's new captain.

There wasn't much time between your discussion with Emma and walking out to the press conference.

The best you could have given them was a text in warning but, judging by the messages your Morsa sent and all the uncharacteristic emojis she sent with it, you assumed she was happy.

You also assumed that you wouldn't be yelled at for not giving them a heads up.

You pull up at their house and sigh.

Frido's car is also in the driveway and you roll your eyes.

You don't want to think about how many traffic laws she broke to get here before you.

You unlock the front door, unbothered with using the bell, and slip inside.

The low hum of the tv is apparent as you slide off your shoes and hang up your coat. Frido's definitely in the house because you have to put your shoes next to hers and her bag is sitting on the stairs.

You're not entirely sure why she keeps bringing a bag when all her clothes are in the spare room but you don't dwell on it long before making your way into the living room.

Momma is sitting on the sofa, watching the last five minutes of a random show before what she actually wants to watch comes on.

"Your Morsa and moster are in the garden," She tells you," Calling everyone they know to brag."

"Are you angry I didn't tell you? Are they?"

"I'm not angry and those two are much too smug to be angry as well."

You smile and sit next to Pernille, one of her arms being thrown over your shoulder comfortably.

"At least tell me you told Natalia at least. She's not got access to you while on camp like we do."

"I told Talia," You reply.

In fact, Talia was the first and only person you told before the press conference. She'd congratulated you with a laugh before teasing and saying to take it in while you could because she would be gunning for the Spanish captaincy next.

She'd get it eventually, you knew that. It was only a matter of time but, still, you were the only national captain in the relationship at the moment and you just knew she'd have something to say about it when you finally reunited.

"Good girl," Pernille says," I'd hate for her to suddenly appear at the house unexpectedly. You know what your Morsa gets like."

In sync, you both lean forward to peer out of the windows leading to the garden.

Magda's still on the phone, waving her hand around excitedly as her mouth moves quickly before she drops the call only to immediately make a new one.

Frido's also pacing around the garden doing the exact same thing and you can't help but roll your eyes at both of them.

Magda catches your eyes and instantly makes her way back inside.

"Look at you!" She cries, bursting into the room," My little captain! Look at you!"

You're pulled away from Pernille and crushed into a hug as Magda all but sobs into your hair.

"I remember the first time you wore the armband! So small! You couldn't even walk yet! It kept slipping off! Now look at you!"

"Morsa," You groan, trying to escape from her suffocating hug," Let go!"

"My baby!" She's definitely crying now. "Carrying Sweden to greatness!"

(One day, you do lead Sweden to greatness. One day, you make your mark as one of Sweden's captains. One day, you pass off the armband to a young player you saw greatness in like your captain did for you.)

"Come on," You complain," Let go!"

You're released, only to be forced right back into another hug, from your moster Frido now.

Her hugs is just as suffocating as Magda's. She rocks side to side with you as you struggle to get away.

She speaks to Magda over your head. "Do you think I can borrow your old armband? I can't just wear her shirt to matches anymore. Got to complete the look."

"Please don't," You beg but she ignores you.

"Er..." Magda says," I'm not sure actually. I'll have a look-"

"It's on the bedside table," Pernille cuts in," Magda insisted on wearing it last night when we-"

"Gross!" You complain," Please don't talk about your sex life. You know I wear the armband now. Please don't make me think about you guys having sex every time I wear it."

You peak your head over Frido's shoulder to look at your mothers.

Magda shrugs. "A healthy sex life-"

"Stop!" You clamp your hands over your ears. "Stop talking or I'll go straight back to camp. Stop talking!"

Magda waves a hand dismissively. "You'll find out what I mean as soon as you see Natalia again."

[ebenelephant]

look i've been partaking in fandom for a number of years now but nothing so far has affected me quite so much as ninejackrose, and doctorjackrose in general. i feel nauseous just thinking about them.

because you have the obvious angle; they seem so in love, then jack is abandoned and waits for the doctor for 150 years only to find that rose is gone and the doctor a) has a new face and b) has moved on. after they left him, after all that sincerity and affection, they just carry on as normal as though he'd never been there to begin with. but also, rose clearly doesn't know about jack's immortality, so we have to ask, what does she think happened to him? what did the doctor tell her? how do you even begin to untangle the fucked up ethics of that one?

rose made this man immortal because she couldn't bear to think of him as dead, and no one even told her he'd died in the first place. she was nineteen. the doctor was over nine hundred. jack was in his thirties. she made him into essentially a perfect companion; somebody who the doctor loves, and who he cannot outlive. a reminder of rose's boundless capacity for love, and ten can barely even bring himself to look him in the eyes.

by the time ten meets him for a second time, when the daleks invade, jack is already older than him. jack is more than a thousand years older than him, in fact, because he was buried alive in 27ad and was forced to live for a millennia as a prisoner to the earth and to his own brother. jack finds a new family, finds somebody to love, and they all die. rose gets an imitation of the doctor to love in a world that isn't really her own; their lives will be a blink that the others won't get to see. the doctor also finds love and a family, and also loses them - every version of them.

they meet in a prison millions of lightyears away from where they first met – thousands of years after, depending on who you ask – because jack heard that the doctor needed help. he's barely aged; the doctor has had two faces between this one and last time. she recognises him immediately, though he mistakes someone else for her.

they still remember rose.

[xoluvx]

cause i wonder; b.eilish ❥₊ ⊹

as the decade would play us for fools and you saw my bones out with somebody new

stay with me ya'll cause i'm feeling a bit emo. just imagine billie seeing you after you've broken up. the first time she's seen you since it all went down. you quit each other; no contact only painful blistering ache. it harbored in your hearts. you carried it like an anchor sinking to the pit of your stomach. it was debilitating and all consuming and now you were at her show. standing with your friends like you weren't hanging on by a thread threatening to snap any second. like you weren't completely shattered on the inside.

she'd spotted you almost instantly. when your eyes met, all the noise drowned out. all you could hear was the sound of your heart beating rapidly, wanting to jump out of your chest and run right up to her on stage. she looked away and tried composing herself, but you could tell she was off. she was confused. you were confused and you couldn't outwardly feel any of it. not in this crowd. not with your friends. not even with yourself because you'd both chosen this.

it could've been so easy to fight for it, but you didn't. instead you lived with the pain and regret and the tears forming in your eyes and the quiet sniffles and excuses to go to the bathroom because you couldn't bare to carry the pain and you couldn't bare pretending it was all okay when you were both walking with open wounds.

so if i sell my apartment and you have some kids with an internet starlet, will that make your memory fade from this scarlet maroon like it never happened?

could it be enough to just float in your orbit?

wounds too large to heal. you almost prayed they didn't heal because you could still feel her in every fiber of your being. in every step you took and every song you listened to. twirled in your thoughts and your memories. intimate memories of arms brushing, fingers lacing, legs tangling. soft whispering and gentle caresses. longing moans and tender sighs. hands touching while lips kissed. tongues tussling while nails clawed. whimpers and shivers down spines. they all replayed in your head like a cruel fucking joke.

all you could do was wish you could go back to your bubble and hide from the world like you didn't exist. longing to go back to your safe space instead of standing in an arena of people chanting her name. you reverted to spacing out just like you did every day. going about in a daze. everything losing its color and taste. coffee bland. eyes blank. heart bruised. bubble bursting suddenly leaving you raw and shivering. so you watched her from afar doing what she loved. smiling faintly when your friends tugged on your arm forcing you to dance. clapping when she bowed.

she was your sun and you just existed to orbit around her. you would've done it for decades if she'd asked you to.

and if you want to tear my world apart say you'll always wonder. cause i wonder.

but neither of you could admit to the love still festering in your hearts and neither of you could admit to the pain you both caused. neither of you would pick up the phone and admit defeat to the cruel game with no winners. you were two losers yearning for each other. clapping at your seat. wondering who was waiting for her backstage. who she was going to wrap her arms around. who she was longing for. so stupid and oblivious to the fact that her heart still belong to you. searching for you in the sea of people while you still wondered.

[ruenii]

i made myself cry but whatever!! WHATEVERRR--

SJ reincarnates as a baby and is now SY's little brother. Imagine how much whiplash he has when he's showered with so much love and adoration. His A-Die loves to carry him when he goes to read or work in his office, his A-Niang always sings lullabies for him when he goes to sleep and buys him so much baby clothes.

But his siblings are by far the stickiest, his first older brother and second brother were a bit distant; as they inherited the family business. It doesn't make them any less affectionate!! in fact, it makes them more clingy and want more time with their new youngest!! His Shijie, Shen Jiu thinks, is very outspoken. She's a top student and a social media influencer with thousands and thousands of fans. She always took pictures of him and dresses both of them up in matching outfits whenever she makes a video or a post.

and, finally, his San-ge; Shen Yuan. He was a bit of an outlier, always at home, rarely ever visiting the family, and preferred to just read novels or consume media to pass the time.

Shen Jiu, at first, thought it was a bit pathetic. Why is his San-ge only lazing around? their other siblings are successful and actually did something with their lives, while he was just wasting away!

He papped Shen Yuans head with his baby hands for that a couple times when the other tries to cuddle him close.

Turns out, Shen Yuan absolutely adores his little brother, that he'd actually try and visit the family just to see him. (Shen Jiu isn't preening at that, he isn't.)

Shen Yuan loves his snarky little brother, he loves that they both have a love for papping people on the head, he loves that cute glare he does when he's angry, he loves the pretty jade eyes he has, he loves his small, chubby, little fingers. Shen Yuan was absolutely smitten!

The rest of his family are happy that he got out of the house for once, and visiting them more often too! No more forcing their mei-mei to drag him out!

And Shen Jiu (albeit begrudgingly--) admits that, Shen Yuan is his favourite. He likes it when Shen Yuan visits the family more, he likes it when he gets to be carried by him and drool all over him because he's a piece of shit, and he loves it when Shen Yuan- or- his Yuan-ge focuses all his love on him. He's a territorial baby okay? No one gets to have his Shijie's and San-ge's attention more than him.

Shen Jiu grows up in a family that loves him so much it aches him, but he wouldn't have it any other way. He would burn the heavens if it meant keeping all of them safe.