#i can't stop laughing at my ridiculous pets

[expirisims]

Every year growing up, my Dad bought my Mom one of those cloth yearly calendars "from" our cats. My Mom passed away in 2017, but when I got married I decided to carry on the tradition...sort of. Every Christmas our pets "buy" a special gift for my husband with their faces on it. He's gotten socks, mugs, Christmas ornaments, even a blanket. This year I almost started looking into custom toilet paper because our male doggo pees LITERALLY everywhere 😂 Might hang onto that one for next year 🤔

Anyway, I decided on a little something for his mancave and You Guys it's so stupid I can't stop laughing 🤣😂

It's not perfect by any means, but I hope he gets half as much enjoyment out of it as I do 😂

Also hoping my blending job from all my cut and paste looks less obvious when it comes on the canvas 🤣

[rosegolden13]

Princess Treatment w/ John Price

His workaholic habits do not stop after he leaves base to come home to you...

We already know he's opening up every damn door for you. He has the magical skill of knowing when doors need a push or a pull so he never fails to laugh when you pull a push door. "Tha's why you shoulda left it to me, love. Stubborn thing, you are." He'll reach over your head to push the door open for you, plopping a kiss to your hair while he does.

His masculinity does not get in the way of holding your purse for you whenever you're out together, his big bear hands wrapped around the handle of your little black purse.

He refuses to let you carry your own luggage, doesn't care if it takes him multiple trips to get both of your bags into the hotel or rental house. He'll get all exasperated if you insist on helping. "You had a long drive. Lemme handle it, pet." (even though he's the one that drove...)

There's nothing he loves more than ordering for you at a restaurant. His voice is filled with an unreasonable amount of pride when he says "And for the missus..." before telling the waiter your order.

Speaking of food, if you ever eat anything that needs cutting or even doctoring up, expect him to jump in. "Now, now, doll, you know tha's my job." He'll tsk and gently take the knife from you to cut your steak into bitesize pieces or to butter your roll. Yes, he will go as far as to bring the fork up to your lips and feed you if you don't put up a fuss.

He will absolutely pay for your manicure and then coo when you offer him your hand to show off your new nails. "Real pretty, love... Don't go chippin' 'em now. Come sit."

Price always sets up a nice place for you on the couch or bed, blanket at the ready and pillows right where you like them. "Come on now, Mrs. Price." He'll pat the spot next to him like one would for a dog. Of course, he likes it best when he can be your pillow and personal heater (that man is always warm, always) but sometimes he's got to find a way to coax his little love into his arms and away from chores.

Naturally, he will swat your hands away when you bend down to tug on your heels or tie your sneakers. He'll crouch down to place your foot on his bent knee, patting your calf firmly and leaning in to press a kiss to your ankle once he's done.

If you nick yourself while shaving, he'll level you with a disapproving stare and then insist that he do it for you next time. After all, he has plenty of experience with keeping his facial hair so tidy. "Can't have my woman hurtin' herself, now can I?" You bet your bottom dollar he's using his fancy razors and shaving creams on you, extra delicate to make sure he doesn't mar your skin.

He's terrified to smoke around you after you coughed one (1) time and now he only will take his cigars out on the back porch or in his office with the window open. If you come in, he'll snuff it out asap and usher you out of the room, shushing your protests.

I'll probably eventually add a part two cuz soft Price is everything to me hehe... Can you tell my standards are ridiculously high?? Also, does anyone have an accent writing guide for TF-141?? I am painfully American.

[4st4rion]

some close proximity

ao3 link

just over 1k; astarion is in a bad mood, u make him feel better, kissing ensues. second person pov (astarion x you) and fully gender neutral. mild act 3 spoilers!

Astarion has been in a bad mood all day, and, frankly, you're fucking sick of it.

You don't confront him in front of everyone, because you're not an asshole, but you wait until it's just the two of you left in your rooms at the Elfsong, everyone else gone to have dinner and drink downstairs.

He's about to leave, too, but you stop him with a hand on his arm.

"Astarion," you say, hoping it comes off as gently as possible.

He whips around, brows furrowed together in an angry expression.

"What?"

You raise your eyebrows at him. He's really in a bad mood if he's being this short with his own lover.

"Astarion," you repeat, firmly this time. "What's going on with you today?"

A hundred emotions war over his face — first it's the anger at being called out, then denial that anything is wrong, then guilt and regret for snapping at you, and his eyes avoid your own as he heaves a dramatic sigh.

"Nothing," he lies, in that near-hysterical pitch he has when he's worked up. "We're only lingering in my ex-master's hunting grounds, staying at the tavern I used to hunt," he says. "How could I possibly be anything but ecstatic to hang around?"

You frown.

"Is that what it is?" you ask, ignoring the part of you that wants to get defensive about his tone with you. "Astarion, you're safe with us," you remind him, taking his hand and holding it intently. "None of us would let any harm come to you."

He flinches like he's going to pull his hand away, but decides not to.

"How do you know?" he mutters, still not looking at you. "Cazador himself could come find us any night."

"He'd be a fool to," you hum. "You're surrounded by allies, and you're no longer under his control."

You squeeze his hand.

"Cazador is probably cowering right now, afraid of his own death, knowing we're in the city," you say, and that almost gets Astarion to smirk.

"I'm sure he's shitting himself," Astarion says sarcastically, but you roll with it.

"And pissing, too," you add. "He's running out of pants from how often he's shitting and pissing himself."

That, stupid as it is, makes Astarion laugh.

He glances at you, then scoffs, still smiling.

"I hate that you make me feel better," he admits, winding his fingers around yours. "Little shit."

You smile back.

"I'm your little shit, though," you say, before you can consider whether you should or not, and he goes still.

"Are you?" he asks, softly. Cautiously.

"A little shit?" you ask, giving you both the chance to escape this conversation, but he only laughs one amused huff.

"No," he says. "Are you? Mine?"

The look in his eyes is dangerous; you want to pull him into a kiss and never stop, give him anything and everything, let the world melt around you in favor of giving yourself to him, body and mind and soul.

"Maybe," you say, trying to sound coy but sounding nervous, instead.

The hand that isn't in yours comes to up pet you, his thumb running over your cheekbone and your lower lip before he leans in to kiss you. It's as intoxicating as ever, and you let yourself relax as the two of you kiss over and over in your shared room.

Your free hand holds him at his hip, first, then at his waist, pulling him in until the two of you are flush together. He won't stop kissing you, stealing your breath away and swallowing anything you may have to say about the situation.

"Are you mine?" he asks again, once you're flustered and weak in the knees.

You swallow thickly.

"Might be," you admit, but it's not what he wants to hear — his hands leave you to guide you by your hips, back until your legs meet your comfortable daybed and you tumble down onto the mattress.

He climbs on top of you, and you'd compare him to a predator if he wasn't giggling quietly to himself as he bullies between your legs. You can't help but laugh, too, because it's a little ridiculous, isn't it? You've been together, been something, since you helped the tieflings at Emerald Grove, fighting side by side and barely ever apart — it should be easy enough to admit that you're his.

He pulls your shirt off of you and sets to laying kisses down your neck and chest, paying extra attention just under your ear until you know there's going to be a lovebite worried into your skin.

"Bastard," you mutter, but he only laughs again.

"Everyone already knows we're together," he reasons. "I might as well mark you."

His words send something hot creeping under your skin. You'd like that, you think — being marked as belonging to someone. How different is a lovebite from a wedding ring, when you think about it? Or a collar, or a scar? It's a symbol of ownership, isn't it?

"Don't tempt me to do the same," you threaten, even though that thought sends something even hotter through you. He'd look good with a ring of bruises bitten around his neck, outlines of your teeth indented in his skin.

He bites at your neck, not drawing blood but not gently, and it startles a quiet noise out of you.

"Tell me you are mine," he says this time, and you can't deny it any longer.

"I'm yours," you sigh, as his teeth make themselves at home in your neck.

"Only mine," he growls, and you laugh. You've certainly been getting hit on a lot lately, yeah; between the Emperor shooting his shot and having to stop Halsin from confessing his feelings, it's no surprise he's feeling possessive.

"Only yours," you purr. You drape your arms over his shoulders and pull him closer, arching against him to press your body up to his and baring your neck for him. "I haven't thought of anyone but you since we met," you admit, your voice as low and sultry as you can manage.

He whines against you and takes your offering, biting into your neck with his fangs and drawing blood. It doesn't happen every time you have sex, and it doesn't always lead to sex, but sex and feeding are entwined enough that one tends to tangle into the other. Not that you mind, far from it — his bite becomes pleasantly numb as he drinks from you and the mild lightheadedness only adds to how dreamy it is every time you get intimate with him.

"You mean everything to me," you say, slow and sleepy-sounding, everything getting further and further away as he drinks. "You are everything to me."

He makes another desperate noise into your veins and pulls up, away. His mouth seals over the same spot to suck the last trickles of blood that ooze up and he licks to help the wound begin to heal, his tongue especially familiar here.

As soon as he trusts your skin not to split back open, he's moving up to kiss you again. You'd be more disturbed by the taste of your own blood on his tongue if you weren't used to it by now.

"You are mine," he shudders between kisses. "Just as I am yours," he adds, his voice full of fake confidence.

"You are," you immediately affirm, wanting him to know it's true and it's mutual.

"Not like I was his," he hisses. “In a different way."

You nod against him.

"A better way," you agree, and he nods, too, kissing you even harder.

You stay that way for a good, long while, tangled together on the bed. Time and place melt away; the only things that exist or have ever existed are the two of you, here, now, together, and the quiet sounds of love between your mouths.

It's good.

It's perfect.

[hyukalyptus]

is that so bad? — bestie!soobin x chubby!reader. NSFW/MDNI!!!

cw. swearing, chubby!fem!reader, mentions of eating and drinking, soobin loves his best friend's body and can't stop thinking about fucking her, dirty talk, dancing, nipple play, cunnilingus, body worship, pet names (pretty, baby, sexy), low key lovemaking, unprotected sex (wear condoms, y'all), creampie, lots of talk about reader's squishy, jiggly body. notes. reposted from my old account! smut under cut. wc. 2.8K

“You should just ask her out.”

“What?” he’s shaken out of your trance as he watches you from across the room, laughing with your friends, your wide-legged jeans hiding your body from him, but your crop top allowing him to see the tops of your tits jiggle with your laughter. “That’s ridiculous. She’s my best friend.” 

“So?” Beomgyu asks. “You obviously like her. Just ask her out.”

“What if she says no? It’s not like we could stay friends after that.” Of course, you’re oblivious to the whole thing. You have no idea that your best friend constantly thinks about you. Thinks about kissing you, squeezing you, jiggling your thighs, fucking you from behind so your ass ripples with his thrusts. 

Okay, today's the day, he tells himself in the bathroom mirror. I’m going to ask her out. He’s really tried today—got a bit more dressed up than usual for your typical Sunday morning coffee. Put on a little cologne, slicked his hair back a bit. 

Will you go out with me? You wanna get dinner sometime? Can I take you out? He shakes his head with each option. Nothing sounds good—he’ll just wing it in the moment. 

“Woah,” Beomgyu says as he walks through the kitchen. “You’re all fancy today. What’s the occasion?” Soobin blushes and scratches the back of his head, avoiding eye contact. “Oh, did she say yes? Is this your first date?” He shakes his shoulders, congratulating him. 

“No, no, no,” he says, Beomgyu retreating from him, disappointed. “I’m asking her out today though.” 

“Okay, we’ll see.”

“What does that mean?”

“Nothing, just…I’ll believe it when I see it.”

Sitting across from him, you look absolutely, positively mouth-watering. He’d of course gotten there early and he swears when you walked in the front door, the entire place lit up, rays of sunshine illuminating you. Your cargo pants outline your tummy perfectly, which he thinks is just about the sexiest thing he’s ever seen. But the crop top was another thing—letting him see just a bit of your tummy and the way your top accentuated your chest…just gorgeous. 

As you two catch up, he tries maintaining eye contact, he really does. But the way your tits jiggle and bounce with your laughter is too distracting. And if he catches a glimpse of your tummy bouncing, forget it. That’s the only thing that has his attention. 

Really, he only has one thing on his mind: asking you out. You’re talking about…something. He doesn’t know—something funny that happened at work, perhaps a new TV show you’re watching? 

“And then he—”

“You wanna go out sometime?” He blurts out, his lips rounding into a pout as he realizes what just happened. But you’re still taken aback, practically choking on your laughter from your story.

“Wh-what?” You smile awkwardly. But he can’t answer; he just stares out into space blankly, contemplating whether he should just run out the front door or not. 

“Uh, do you,” he swallows hard. “Do you—”

You lean over the table and ask, “Did you just ask me out?”

“Well, yes and no…” he starts. “Except not no. So, yeah, basically,” he nods. “Yes, I did.”

“And you’re serious?” You’re not offended, you’re not quite flattered either; truth be told, you don’t know how you feel about it. You think he’s joking, but when he tells you he’s dead serious, you blink, resting back against your chair. 

All he’s thinking is how could he not be? Who wouldn’t be into you? Who wouldn’t admire your amazing, beautiful body and all its glory? And you’re funny, smart, witty, introverted enough for him, just extroverted enough to bring him out of his shell. You’re absolutely perfect. But your body is the cherry on top. 

Your curves, your hips, tits, tummy, ass—the way everything jiggles, the dimples at the tops of your thighs that he can only see when you’re in a swimsuit or short shorts. Oh, that time you two went to the beach together, he was speechless. You looked delicious. Skin glistening in the sun, stretch marks at the top of your thighs on full display, asking him to rub sunscreen on your back. 

But you had no idea. No idea how he looked at you when you weren’t looking, eyes skating across your body. How much he wanted to bury his face between your thighs, how much he wanted to suck on your nipples. 

“I think you’re funny, pretty, hot, smart, so…yeah, I wanna go on a date with you. Is that so bad?” He presses his lips in a smile, his dimples appearing and, well, you had no reason not to. What’s the worst that can happen?

-

“Hey, sexy,” he says as you open the door wearing a suit and tie holding a bouquet of your favorite flowers. You must admit, he does look rather handsome tonight. 

“Sexy?” You chuckle, taking the flowers from him, letting him in your apartment. 

“Oh, would you rather I call you something else? Pretty? Beautiful? Gorgeous?” Oh, he’s really being bold tonight, huh? 

“Sexy works,” you shrug, stretching on your toes for a vase on top of your fridge, which lets him get a good look at your ass. But you were still oblivious to everything. You thought he was just being cute and charming, not dead-ass serious about thinking you’re sexy. Not that you aren’t sexy. You just didn’t necessarily think Soobin—your best friend—would think that. 

“You want me to get it?” He asks, pressing his body to your back to reach over you. Truth be told, that does elicit a flutter in your tummy. Your breath hitched as he pressed up to you, goosebumps popped up as he graced his fingertips over your arm, just how absolutely tall he looked looking down at you. 

And he noticed how much of an effect he had on you all of a sudden. “Ready?” Realizing he handed you the vase a while ago, you divert your attention to displaying the flowers before heading out the door. 

At dinner, he insists on sitting on the same side of the booth and he just can’t take it anymore. Your thigh smooshed against the booth is just too tempting. Testing the waters, he graces his fingertips over your thigh, moving further and further inward to the squishiest part. 

“What are you doing?” You ask, eyeing him through your eyelashes. 

“Touching you. Is that okay?” He keeps moving and squeezing and you do enjoy it. Admittedly, it feels good…really good. Your eyes flutter shut as you nod, the tiniest smile on your face. “God,” he sighs. “I can’t wait to get you home.” 

“We haven’t even gotten our drinks yet,” you chuckle. “And you promised me dinner and dancing.”

“I know,” he says. “But I’m gonna make you feel so good later.”

“Oh, really?” You smirk up at him and he responds with a cocky nod. 

The rest of the dinner is spent eating…at least you tried, but the way he kept whispering in your ear was too distracting. 

All I wanna do is rip your dress off and rub all over your beautiful body. 

I can’t wait to kiss every inch of you. 

You have no idea how many times I’ve undressed you in my mind, do you? 

You secretly wanted to hurry this along to get home. At the same time, you’re reminded of how ridiculous that sounds. Soobin fucking you? No, that’s ridiculous. He’s your best friend. 

But he promised you a date. And a date you shall get. At the club, you two don’t waste time getting drink and instead head straight for the dance floor. Dancing apart from each other at first, something, although you don’t know what—you didn’t see anything—makes him trip forward into you. 

But you really don’t mind. You don’t part, his arm stays wrapped around your waist, yours around his broad shoulders and you can’t help but think wow, he is handsome, isn’t he? Like really handsome. How have you never noticed before? 

Pressing you closer, he brings his mouth to your ear and oh god, what’s he gonna say this time to get you all hot and bothered? 

“You look so fucking sexy right now,” he whispers. Well, as much as he can whisper in a club. “I can’t wait to get my hands on you later.”

“Soobin…” your ears feel unbelievably hot. You’ve never seen this side of him before and the fact he has it on full display this evening has your mind scrambling. “You can touch me a little now if you want.” His eyebrows raise, his cute smile spreads across his face as he presses to you, sliding his hand from your waist to your ass, squeezing just barely at first, then rough and harsh the second time. 

And god does he love what he's feeling. The way your squish perfectly moulds underneath his big hand makes his eyebrows stitch together at just how fucking sexy you are.

The music inevitably turns slow and sensual and you turn around to back into him, your hips rolling over him, his hand resting on your tummy. Your eyes flutter shut and you let your head fall back to his shoulder and he just…looks at you. Your pretty face, cute cheeks, all over your body. 

“I would do absolutely anything to fuck you right now,” he says. And you finally give in. Your hand on the back of his neck brings him closer, finally pressing his lips to yours, your first kiss quickly turning hot and heavy. You don’t know where this is coming from. Since when do you want him so badly? 

Never breaking the kiss, you turn to face him, arms wrapping around his shoulders, his hands rubbing and squeezing your ass again. You need him. Now. 

“Let’s go home,” you say. Grabbing your hand, he heads straight for the front door, so determined. The agency’s black car is already waiting for you around the corner. You hop in, but that doesn’t mean you stop kissing. Lips all over each other, hands everywhere, you’re practically straddling him by the time you reach your apartment. 

Pushing you against the door as soon as it’s shut, he—against your own desires—doesn’t rush into anything. His hand cups your face and he taps your thigh signaling you to jump, hoisting you up into his arms, the kiss now sensual and mind-bogglingly slow. Making his way to your bedroom, he lays you down gently and looks over your body while he takes his tie and belt off, like he’s trying to decide exactly what he’s gonna do to you. 

He rolls his sleeves up a bit and unbuttons just a few of the top buttons, but you take it upon yourself to pull him to you by the front of his shirt. 

“Just take it off,” you say, working at them yourself. When it’s finally off, you’re in awe at how beautiful he is. His shoulders, his chest, his toned abs, everything. You’ve seen him shirtless before, but you’ve never truly looked. 

Reaching behind you, he finds the zipper to your dress, tugging on it at an agonizingly slow pace. Pushing the dress off you as he kisses your shoulders. You’re just— “So pretty.”

As he pulls your dress down and off your body, you tug at the top of his trousers before he gets the hint. His lips never leave your mouth, but he swiftly pulls them off, discarding them on the floor. 

You wrap your legs around his hips while he’s on top of you, your hips rolling with his. Trailing kisses down your chest, he pulls at your bra straps before you reach behind yourself, throwing it to the floor. His hands immediately—urgently—squeeze them as he buries his face in them, lips all over you. 

Sucking your nipples, he groans, finally able to do what he’s been dreaming about for months. Flicking his tongue, you moan, bucking your hips for any kind of friction. Nipples slick and wet and hard, he presses his thumb to one, rubbing gentle circles over it as he moves to your tummy. 

“So, so pretty, baby,” he  whispers against your skin, kissing and biting you. He’s almost obsessed with your tummy, he spends so much time there, just kissing all over, his hands working your tits, thumbs all over your nipples. “All for me, yeah?” He glances up at you and you nod, eyebrows stitching together at the sight of him. You reach for his hair, begging him to go further. 

And he does. 

Tugging at your panties with his teeth, he slowly pulls them off you, kissing his way back up to your pussy. You can feel it yourself, “You’re so fucking wet, pretty.” He swipes two fingers over your folds, bringing them to his mouth to taste you for the first time. And you’re absolutely delicious. His eyes roll back, ready to dive in. 

Legs falling over his shoulders, he grips your thighs, squeezing and jiggling them to his liking, flicking his tongue over your clit, an obscene moan leaving your mouth. You try not to suffocate him and move your thighs away, but he pulls them right back around his head. 

Your fingers tangling in his hair, your skin feels like fire. Reaching up again to squeeze your tit, he rubs circles over your nipple once again. 

“Holy fuck, Soobin,” you whine, throwing your head back. “Don’t stop.”

And he doesn’t. 

He does exactly what he’s been doing; he can tell you like this pace of flicking, sucking, rubbing. You love it and he does too. Loves to see you, “So pretty for me.” You look down again and goddamn does he look good. Black tufts of hair gracing your thigh, eyes closed, eating you out like you’re the best he’s ever tasted. 

Every so often he comes up for air and just looks at you and whispers how pretty you look, almost in disbelief. Like there’s no one in the world that even comes close. 

“You’re gonna make me cum,” you choke out and he’s insistent, but consistent at the same time. Not changing a damn thing. Pleasure washes over you as you cum hard into his mouth, legs encasing his head just like he wanted. 

Legs trembling through your orgasm, he brings you down from it perfectly, coming up and wiping his chin with the back of his hand, licking his lips, kissing yours. His hands all over you, pressing your bodies together, he whispers, “Wanna be inside you…”

You nod, tugging at his boxers before he takes them off completely.  Holding your legs up in his arms, he slides inside you—the first expert roll of his hips sparking electricity at the top of your thighs, shooting out your toes. Unable to hold himself up at how amazing you feel, he falls forward, digging his face in the crook of your neck, marking you in sloppy kisses on his way to your nipples where he simply cannot suck them enough. 

Mustering up the strength to sit up on his knees again while he thrusts into you, he squeezes every squishy part on you—your hips, thighs, waist, everything. And he keeps mumbling how amazing you look underneath him. So fucking pretty, taking me so well, am I making you feel good? 

And of course he is and you let him know. You moan out and groan, “Fuck, yes. You feel so fucking…so fucking good.” He can’t believe you’re finally under him like this. Legs spread, tits bouncing with his thrusts, eyes rolled back. “You’re fucking heaven.”

“Yeah,” he chuckles. “I am fucking heaven.” 

Your legs tremble, edging close to your second orgasm. Licking his thumb, he rubs your nipple again, pleasure and ecstasy flowing through your body. 

Everything is a bit overwhelming—how good he feels, the things he’s whispering in your ear, the way he’s treating you so nicely, but is also fucking you so, so good. 

It sends you into euphoria, your second orgasm of the night crashing over you in waves. You moan loud enough for the neighbors to unmistakably hear, squeezing around his cock just perfectly. Finally releasing inside you, his hot cum fills you up and you just feel so warm. That’s all you wanna feel forever. 

He stays put for a bit, catching his breath as he kisses all over your cheek and collarbone, peppering you with adoration. Pulling out of you slowly, you wince at the sudden emptiness. But the way he looks at you…

“You’re so beautiful, you know?” He says, kissing your tummy and the sensitive skin under your breasts, running his hands all over you again.

“You must really like my body,” you chuckle.

“What do you mean?” His head shoots up as he looks at you, eyebrows stitched together. “Of course I do. You’re gorgeous. Look at you.”

[cloudsmateria]

cloud strife x reader - new kitten!

summary: you surprise cloud with a kitten when he comes back from a mission, but of course, he hates cats.

this is so fluffy and omg i loved writing it it was so cute. look at this grump ass guy

(not proofread but i will proofread it tomorrow)

"I'm back." Cloud says as he comes in through the door, propping his sword up by the door. Bags are dropping from his eyes, so tired he doesn't notice your malicious grin as you come up to him wrap your arms around his neck, kissing him on the nose. 

"I missed you." You say, he flashes a smile of contentment as his arms go around your waist, pecking your forehead. 

"I missed you too." You pull away, leaving the kitten you hid behind his back on his shoulder. He hears a mew from his shoulder, tiredly turning to the noise. "Shit!" He shouts, jolting back, his back hitting the door as you quickly catch the kitten in your hands. "What is that?!"

"Kitten." You smile, lifting it up to his face as he presses himself against the door more, turning his head away. "It's so cute isn't it?"

"I leave you alone... For 2 days..." He breathes, closing his eyes.

"Correct, your leaving liberates me to make good choices."

"Maybe you're so taken by your despair that you don't think." He says slowly gathering the courage to face the kitten.

"You're cute." You push it against his face, as he cups his hand underneath it and sighs, looking at it in his hands. 

"I need a shower." He says, placing it on the bed and leaving. 

"You're not mad, right?" You ask, following him into the bathroom

"No, I'm just exhausted." He says, turning on the hot water.

"You're mad."

"Get out."

You frown, respecting his wishes and returning to the kitten, holding her close to your face. "At least I have you." By the time he's done, you're laying on the bed with the kitten on your chest as he comes out in his sweatpants and black shirt. "Cloud?"

He sighs and sits on the bed beside you, reluctantly moving to pet the cat with stiff, nervous hands. You feel relief wash over your chest as he tries his best. "You can't stay mad at me for long."

"I'm not mad."

"Then look at me."

He looks at you, his blue eyes meeting yours. "What's the deal with the cat anyway?"

"I found her in a box on the side of the road, she was basically crying with her mews. I couldn't leave her there."

"But why do you have to keep it here? Why can't you give her to Aerith?"

"Because I love cats, this is our daughter now. We're parents!" You grin, hugging her close.

"You're ridiculous." He scoffs, laying down on his back, you take this as an invitation to curl up next to him and place the kitten on his chest.

"I know you're scared of cats."

"That is not true."

"You were acting like I threw a grenade on you." You giggle, he strokes the kitten's head more comfortably this time.

"We have enough scars as it is." And I have enough things taking up my girlfriend's attention, he thinks.

"Don't worry, she's a good girl. I was hoping you'd help me name her. What do you think about Empress of Despair?" He bursts out laughing.

"What?" He laughs.

"General Machine Gun."

"Where do you even get these names from?"

"Supreme Commander of the Kittens."

"Please stop."

"I have more." You grin. "Why are you laughing?"

"You’re ridiculous." He grins, his laughs calming down as you sit up on his waist.

"Why don't you come up with one then?" He looks down at the kitten, trying to think of something.

"How about... Cosmo?"

"So we're just naming her after a cocktail? That's disappointing, Cloud."

"Fine, how about..." He sighs. "Aerith?"

You snort. "Oh yeah, totally didn't see that coming. She's not an Aerith, she's a Cloud."

"That's a weird name for a cat."

"Not if it's a girl cat."

"Are you saying I have a girl's name?"

"Well..."  You smile, he holds a hand over his heart as he groans in pain. 

"The pain of it all, the betrayal."

"You certainly act like one."

"Ugh!" He jolts as if he's been punched. "Take it back." He groans, writhing in his place as the poor kitten stares confused at the both of you. You pick her up, laughing at him and getting off of his waist to sit with her in your lap.

"I think Cloud suits her well. Fluffy and white like a Cloud. Like both Clouds." You stroke the kitten's head.

"Really? She's stolen my girlfriend, and my name?"

"I think you should earn my affection back." You tease.

"Or we can just give the cat to Aerith and I keep my girlfriend."

"You're going to let Aerith steal the love of my life?"

"Love of your life, huh?" He smiles, sitting up.

"Of course! This is my offspring."

"You've only had her for a day and you're already forgetting about me. Come on, I just got back from a long mission and this is how you neglect me?"

"These are the responsibility that comes with having kids, sweetheart."

"I see how it is. Well, I'm sure that cat will love to see the inside of an alleyway again." He jokes.

"Don't listen to him, Cloud. He's not taking you."

"You don't know that." He reaches for her but you move back, defensively. He sighs. "Are we really going to keep her?"

"Yes, you have no choice."

"Well, I suppose having a kid with you wouldn't be so bad." Your stomach flutters at the statement. He shakes his head and laughs again. "You've taken over my apartment, my free time, my money, my friends and my autonomy."

"That's how girlfriends work."

"Psychopathic girlfriends."

"Watch your mouth before I take your will to live too."

"Too late, you took that a long time ago."

"What happened to the guy who was always blushing around me?"

"He was weak and died." He says. "And you're the psychopath that killed him." You snort, the way he's loosened up around you in the past few months of you dating has been surprising, but a wonderful side to him, being the only person he's this comfortable around. "What do I have to do to win you back?" He asks.

"1,000 gil." He laughs again. "Anything else?"

"A kiss."

"I'm not kissing a psychopath." 

"Unfortunately," You smile, leaning over his face. "I've taken away your autonomy." He leans up to peck your lips, taking the cat out of your hands and sitting up. "Cloud Strife." You say seriously.

"Mhm." He hums, stroking the cat.

"Do you love me?"

"No." He says simply, still petting the kitten.

"So when you told me before the mission started that you loved me, that was a lie?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"And when we-"

"Yes." He says, nodding his head, the serious expression on his face making it hard for you to keep a straight face.

"You're so mean."

"You were just going to try get more money out of me, which is ridiculous when I've just let you keep this kitten."

"You're admitting she's staying?"

He scoops the kitten up, holding her against his face. "If we're keeping her, she's sleeping on the floor."

"Poor General Grievous." He laughs again, this time there's a knock on the door. 

"Come in."

Tifa walks in, her arms crossed. "What is going on in here? I don't think I've ever heard Cloud laugh in my life. It's terrifying. Y/n, what did you do to him?"

"This. This is what she did to me." Tifa sees the kitten in his hands, gasping, running over and grabbing her out of his hands. Followed by a series of repeated 'oh my gods' 'aww' 'she's so cute!'. You shake your head at Cloud. 

"You've only had her 10 minutes and you've already let her get kidnapped."

"All part of the plan."

"What did you name her? Oh, she's so precious. She looks just like Fluffy did."

"Y/n's stuck between General Grievous and Cloud Strife."

"You're terrible."

"A good one just came to me! Buster!" Cloud said.

"Yes!" Tifa shouted. 

"Fenrir!"

"No!"

"Okay, okay, how about General Nefarious," Cloud said, mimicking you.

"That's worse!" You say, throwing a pillow at his face.

"Buster. A good name for a kitten with two badass parents with two badass aunties." Tifa smiled.

"To clear it up, Cloud's a mommy and I'm a daddy and we're raising her to be the greatest kitten, no, creature in the universe." Cloud gave you a look of disgust, Tifa giggling as she played with the kitten. 

"I can't believe you didn't tell me right away."

"If you like her that much, you can have her." Cloud said.

"Cloud!"

"That offer still stands." He mouths to Tifa, she smiles and puts Buster back on his lap.

"Well, I have work tomorrow so you can figure that out among yourselves. See you later, mommy." She said, kissing the kitten on the head and making her leave.

"This is what I get for letting her come in. She calls me mommy. I can't imagine how you could make my life any worse." 

"I'll find a way, starting with letting you get some rest." You say, flipping the lights off, picking Buster up and going to put her in a makeshift box in the corner, made out of a box you found her in and blankets. You lay down beside him, and he wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you against him, nuzzling into your neck.

"I hate you so much." He murmurs, kissing your neck, making your skin tingle.

"Oh really?"

"My girlfriend is the most annoying person in the world. It's not my fault."

"I'm going to make your life miserable."

"I've heard."

 You roll your eyes, kissing him one final time. "Goodnight."

"Night."

"I love you."

"Liar."

...

The next morning, you wake up and see Cloud with Buster snoring on his chest and a hand cradling her back…

Maybe he does like cats.

a/n: this is kind of shit but it was such a fun fic to write

[fuctacles]

<< 4 | 5 | 6 >>

Eddie held back and was nice enough to give him an ice pack after. 

"Thank you," Steve murmurs, placing the frozen peas on his chin. He's not taking his eyes off Eddie, who's wired up and walking back and forth in the tiny kitchen. Steve is low-key expecting another hit. If he had his tail, it would be tucked between his legs. 

"Why?" Eddie finally asks, the first thing he says since the punch. But before he can get an answer, he follows with: "Does everyone else know?"

"Yes," Steve admits guiltily. "I didn't want to drop it on you right after the Upside Down, but the longer it took, the weirder it got, and I just..." he trails off with half a shrug. 

Eddie scoffs, sending him a glare while his strides pick up speed. It would look ridiculous, since it takes only three of his steps to walk through the kitchen, if it wasn't so serious. 

"You made it weirder alright. Why did you follow me around instead of hanging out like a normal human being?!" He throws his arms wildly around, almost hitting the fridge. "Or did you just want to keep tabs on me? Like a weird little dog-stalker?!"

"No!" Steve protests indignantly, but then falters. "Well, I— Kind of? But just to, you know, protect you."

Eddie finally stops. Which is not a good sign as far as Steve is concerned, but Eddie just stares at him. 

He recounts the run-ins they had with the local righteous mob. He reimagines them with Steve by his side instead, the human one, and there's no universe in which it doesn't end up with an escalation. People don't normally pick up fights with dogs, apparently. But...

"Was sleeping on my couch and eating my hot dogs also to protect me?"

Steve folds in on himself and Eddie can almost imagine his sad dog ears flopping down. 

"No, I just—"

Eddie's suddenly in his line of vision, squatting in front of him to peer into his face mockingly.

"Was it just for fun? Little doggy wanted belly rubs and treats? Make everyone look at me weird because I'm scratching Steve Harrington between his ears?" he scoffs. "And dude, I would do all of it, if I knew it was you. You were worried it would be too much for me after Vecna? I'm a nerd! I eat that shit up. Do you know how much better I'd feel knowing werewolves are real?!"

Steve is not even surprised at his outburst. He just shuffles his legs and corrects softly:

"Lykans."

Eddie jumps up, throwing his hands into the air.

"Oh, now you're gonna tell me?! You lost your naming privileges, man, you're a werewolf, period."

He leans against the cupboards behind him, foot tapping restlessly. But he was angry at so many things at once, that he didn't know what to grasp first.

"Why did you avoid me?"

"I didn't—"

"You did," Eddie interrupts him. "I never saw you around, only the dog. And then you started avoiding everyone else too. Why?"

Steve sighs, slipping the half-thawed pack of peas away from his face. His body slumps like any traces of fight have just left him.

"I guess it was easier. I could just walk around, keep an eye on everyone, and not... explain myself."

"Can't lie without vocal chords, huh?"

Steve sends him a tired look, and Eddie feels the tiniest of bits bad. He raises his hands placatingly. 

"I'm not your therapist. But I thought I was your friend."

"You are! Just..."

"Just not good enough to share the truth with?" Eddie offers.

Steve groans, this time unfolding to fall against the chair's backrest. 

"See, this is why I prefer shifting. I don't have to explain my thoughts to others, nothing is weird and unspoken, and everyone fucking loves me. They pet me and tell me nice things. But when I'm a human, I'm getting laughed at, dumped, used for rides, and have to stay alone in a big empty house."

Eddie just blinks at him, his anger slowly shifting into concern. 

"That's uh, a lot to unpack there," he says gently, pursing his lips in thought. "You know we've been worried about you, right? That we don't see you anymore. I mean, I didn't know at the time, but the kids knew something was going on with you."

Steve scoffs.

"Yeah, they noticed when they had to go beg Nancy for rides."

"Dude." Eddie frowns at him, both irritated and concerned. "I am so tempted to get your other cheek right now. Didn't Dustin call you to clear the air between us?"

"Yes, because you called him first," Steve reminds him. 

"Still, he could have left it for us to deal with on our own. But he cares, so he reached out. " Eddie sighs. "He wants us to be friends, but most of all, he wants you to open up; not to me, but to the rest of the party. So why are you holing yourself up, man? What's wrong?"

Steve doesn't move from his semi-open position, but he crosses his arms, and he's looking away at Wayne's cap collection, visible through the open space to his right. 

Eddie just looks at him, the worry in his stomach growing like a parasite. He decides that maybe this is enough for today. Enough feelings, talking, and confessions. That it is time to clear the air.

And by 'clear' he means 'cloud it with smoke'.

"Let's put a pin on that," he says and finally, Steve looks back at him, both worried and curious. "I think we both need to chill out and I still have that weed stored away for you. And a really bad horror from Gareth. The blood looks like ketchup, you're gonna love it."

Tags: @noodle-shenaniganery @jaytriesstrangerthings @imaginary-maggie-waggie @samsoble @croatoan-like-its-hot

@dragonmama76 @storyranger @scoops-aboy86

[puppyguppy]

You've been down this damn aisle way too long. Despite not having actually checked the time, you just know it. You can feel it. You've seen others come and go; grab what they need, like a pillow or some new sheets, then leave. But not you. Since apparently, choosing a new mattress has solidified itself as a life or death sort of situation inside of your head. It shouldn't have been this hard -- wouldn't be this hard, if you hadn't seen the sale going on. They're offering the next size up for the price of the next size down. So, like -- you could get a king, for the price of the queen you'd come here for. You've almost always had a queen, at least since being a teenager. And a queen is fine, a queen is good, just enough space for you to roll around some, pick a cooler side if need be, with a corner or two left open for the pet you might actually own someday. All in all, a queen is perfect, so really, there's no need to upsize. You've never even considered it until now. It just seems kind of stupid to turn down such a deal. More comfort, for less? But then...you'll need new sheets. A new comforter. A new duvet. Hell, might as well just get a whole new set for the whole new mattress, right? And, it doesn't make much sense to put old pillows on a new bed, so -- "They never tell you that beds will be one of your biggest battles in adulthood." You jolt, startled out of your spiraling thoughts by a deep, rich mumble. You hadn't noticed the man you've been sharing the aisle with for...gods, you hope it wasn't long. Long enough for him to piece together the puzzle of your struggle, though. You shake off the little scare with a laugh, the feeling only lingering in the goosebumps down your arms. "It wasn't supposed to be this hard. I came here with a plan, believe it or not." The stranger hums, and while he seems to peruse the options, you take a quick few seconds to, well. Peruse him. Tall, dark, and handsome is the gist. Wavy hair thrown half up his head, like maybe he'd been in a hurry, or working out, or just woken up. A bit unkempt, but not unattractive. Stalky, scruffy, and decked out in all colors almost black despite the season. At least they seem loose, everywhere except for where his hands are shoved into his pockets, straining the fabric slightly, and you can't help but wonder -- "One should always have a Plan B. Even maybe C through Z." You laugh again, because really, this is ridiculous, and you should just grab the goddamn bed you'd come here for. Mattresses shouldn't require complex mathematics, an entire alphabet's worth of backup plans, or the entire length of the human emotional spectrum. "Yeah, yeah," you huff, now a bit embarrassed. You're a grown ass adult and yet you feel like you've just been scolded by a highschool teacher or something. "The sale just caught me off guard. I don't want to regret it if I just settle for a queen and miss the chance. Besides, if I get a king and don't like it, I can always just return it, right?" The man shrugs. "Or you could save yourself the trouble. It's not like your room is big enough for a king." You laugh for a third time, because oh, oh my god, he's right. Here you've been fretting and stressing (and honestly? sweating) over beds, when really, there was never a choice. There was just the illusion of choice. You got excited over a sale, about the possibility of an upgrade, and completely forgot about the very real dimensions of your bedroom. And why you've stuck with a queen. "Fuck, you're so right. I couldn't possibly fit a -" You stop. You stop and blink. Because he is right. The goosebumps from just minutes ago shoot straight down to your toes. You swallow, saliva thickening in your throat like cement. "...How do you know that?"

[torukmaktoskxawng]

‘anla

part two out now

Summary: Ao'nung is carefree and rude, to say the least. All he needs is the fear of Eywa in him, and a girl from the Omatikaya clan unexpectedly straightens him out.

Pairing: Ao'nung/Fem!Na'vi!Sully Reader

Warnings: Mature language, violence, mentions of blood, harassment, death threats, teenagers acting their age, time skips, overprotective fathers, military dad, puppy love, canon compliant, slow burn, etc.

Word Count: 5k+

Tag: #'anla ao'nung fic

Na'vi Words: ‘anla - yearn for, ikran - banshee, pa'li - direhorse, skxawng - moron, tsaheylu - the bond, marui - pod homes, tsmuke - sister, tsmisnrr - nectar lantern, olo'eyktan - clan leader, tanhì - bioluminescent freckle, akula - shark like, tulkun - whale like, maite- my daughter, sa'nok - mother, Iknimaya - Rite of Passage, matxe'lan - my heart, ilu - dolphin/plesiosaurlike, txampaysye - gill mantle, Ayram Alusìng - Hallelujah Mountains, sa'sem - parents, tsakarem - tsahik in training, tsahik - spiritual leader

(I do not consent to my works being reposted or copied)

read it here on ao3

"It's called a punch, bitch! Don't ever touch my sister again."

"Get him, Ao'nung!"

"Show him!"

"Stop this! Stop it! So stupid!"

"Ow! My tail!"

"My ear! Let go! He's got my ear!"

Kiri had begun to laugh the nerves off, amused by the ridiculous display of testosterone in all her short teenage life. Hiding her giggles behind her hand, all she could do was watched as her brothers pathetically fought for her dignity against Ao'nung and some of the other reef boys. It had all been fun and games until she noticed a familiar figure in the sky and she craned her neck up to see it.

A shadow looms over the boys, darkening the world around them as it drew closer. Lo'ak and Neteyam both take a moment to recognize the shadow before dodging out of the way, hot blood cooling from the fight as they quickly moved out of the reef boys' reach. Ao'nung, laughing because he thought they were running scared of him, was the last to see the shadow, only pausing when he noticed his friends looking up and their eyes widen in horror. He isn't given a moment to turn around because something large lands in the shallow water behind him and the force of it drove him to stumble into the wet sand below him. The growling and snarls coming from behind the chief's son send chills down his frame, despite the warm day, as he finally turned his body around to stare up at the beast.

Blocking out the sun above him was a large ikran, light blue with gold lightning running up its figure, cawing loudly as if it had caught a meal. Its wings splash in the water, digging into the sand beneath and cooling off like a tired pa'li. Ao'nung began to crawl away from the ikran by the heel of his hands and feet, breath panting rapidly as the fear took over. The fear didn't lessen even as the ikran's rider dismounted, feet splashing into the beach water, drawing up to their ankles. Ao'nung tried to control his breathing as the rider stood over him, snarling down at the Metkayina boy like he was a bug that was stepped underfoot.

Y/n te Suli Neytiri'ite bore a look of disgust, her bright yellow eyes boring into Ao'nung's very soul. Without looking away from him, she addresses her ikran, her four-fingered hand petting down the side of the beast's neck, "Easy, girl. He's the wrong kind of fish. You can't eat him."

Looking around, the oldest daughter of Toruk Makto demanded answers with a stern tone, acting years older than fifteen, "What's the meaning of this?"

Lo'ak spat blood onto the sand, "They called us freaks."

Blink and you would miss it, but for Ao'nung, who refused to look away in fear of the ikran and her rider, he caught the small shift in Y/n's ears before they reverted back to normal. Her tail twitched, too, and from observation, he realized this was the Forest People's way of showing alertness or agitation.

Kiri had caught onto her sister's shift in behavior as well, her voice cautious, "Y/n..."

"Go home, Kiri. Now." Y/n's voice was flat, rid of emotion as she took charge of the situation, pointing to her twin brother, "'Teyam. Pick that skxawng up and go wash your face."

Neteyam nods dutifully, bending down and grabbing Lo'ak's elbow, the younger boy rolling his eyes at the name-calling. Y/n's eyes narrow at each of the reef boys before directing her gaze at Ao'nung, who stiffens under her close inspection, "As for you... You think it's hard to learn your ways. So why don't you try learning our ways and you can be the judge of that?"

The female Omatikaya gestures to the ikran behind her, one corner of her lips slowly turning up as a challenge, "Go ahead. Make the bond."

In response, Y/n's ikran hissed, fangs bared and jaw open wide. Ao'nung could feel the hot breath of the animal fanning his face and could see down its throat. Suddenly the courage and the teasing had left his body. Eyes still wide, unable to look away, Ao'nung can only swallow down his rapid breathing while Y/n just huffs, unimpressed, "As I suspected. You're not even brave enough to get back on your feet. You wouldn't last ten minutes in the forest, Fish Lips."

Y/n waited until all three of her siblings were walking away before she made the tsaheylu with her ikran and mounted the creature, eyebrows raised while peering down her nose at Ao'nung, "Who's the freak now?"

She had flown away, leaving Ao'nung in the sand, the ocean brushing his legs while his friends stood around, gawking. After returning her ikran to the jungle behind the village, Y/n bounded her way back to the Sullys' marui, internally preparing herself for what her siblings likely told her parents. She was not disappointed as she turned the corner, entering the tent to only find her father waiting for her, her siblings already gone from sight.

"What the hell were you doing back there?" Jake demanded under his breath the moment he saw his eldest daughter.

"What do you mean?"

"Do not try playing dumb with me right now. Your brothers already told me what happened."

"I was humbling Ao'nung." She scoffed, smiling to herself as she mocked the boy not currently present, "He couldn't bond with an ikran even if he tried. They would eat him."

Jake sighed, exhausted beyond his years at her antics as he placed one hand on his hip and the other on his pounding head, "You weren't trying to humble him, Y/n, you were humiliating him. And you knew what you were doing."

She shrugged, "Either way it's a win-win. A bruised ego is a lesson-learned ego. That is, if he's smart enough to actually learn his lesson--"

"That's enough, young lady," Jake spoke sternly, the marine in him making an appearance, "Ao'nung is the chief's son. You either need to get along with him or at the very least respect him."

"And I am Toruk Makto's daughter!" Y/n snapped back, "Maybe respect should go both ways."

"Enough."

The tone drove Y/n to straighten her posture, glaring into the space ahead of her, avoiding her father's gaze as he approached her, "Any more backlash comes out of that smart mouth of yours and you'll be grounded from flying."

Her bottom lip pokes out as she pouts. Jake's eyebrow raises at her reaction and the simple facial movement is all Y/n needs before she mumbles out, "Yes, sir."

"Good. Now get lost." Slouching, she turns to leave.

"Hey..." She turns back to find her father standing there instead of the marine, his features softening into curiosity, "How scared was Ao'nung?"

A grin slowly dawns on Y/n's face, stretching the stardust on her cheeks, "Terrified."

"Atta girl."

~~~~~~~~~

It was close to eclipse and both Neteyam and Y/n were flying their ikran, bows in hand, and enjoying a few more laps around the island before they were forced to return to the village. Neteyam makes a hand gesture and instructs his ikran to dive, his twin closely following them on hers.

They land in the jungle, their ikran hooking their claws into the trunks and vines of the vast trees. Breaking the bond, Y/n jumped to one branch and then skillfully climbed down the trunk, Neteyam not far behind her. The twins land gracefully on the forest floor, their conversation cut off midsentence to the sound of a twig snapping. Both of them spin their heads in the same direction they heard the noise, their ears wildly twitching with every little sound they heard. Finally, with bated breath, the figure behind the noise emerged. It was Ao'nung, walking towards them from the direction of the village, a big bruise now sprouting over the right side of his face.

"Does this guy have a death wish or something?" Y/n muttered to her brother, all the while peeking up at her ikran nestled in the trees above her.

"Don't react until we know what he wants," Neteyam advises, leaning his weight onto his bow, acting casual.

A little smug to spite her brother, Y/n called out to Ao'nung as he approached them, "Little far from the reef, are we Fish Lips?"

He doesn't react to the insult other than a small sneer gracing said lips. When he stood still in front of the twins, they both noticed how he was struggling to look them in the eyes. His fingers twitched, trying to find something to do while he muttered, "I did something... some would think dumb."

"Some?"

"Tsmuke." Neteyam hissed at Y/n from under his breath.

Ao'nung continued, ears flattening to the point he looked ashamed of himself, "I brought your brother hunting outside the reef. And..."

"And?" Neteyam urged him to continue.

"And I left him there."

Y/n's head tilts at the same time her pupils shrink and her fangs make an appearance, "You did what?"

"I thought he'd find his way back to the village eventually, but he still hasn't returned. I just wanted to scare him!" Ao'nung defended himself, albeit a bit weakly, his eyes pleading when he finally looked up at stared directly at Y/n, "That's all!"

She huffs a laugh of disbelief through her nose and it sounded irritable. Y/n peered over at Neteyam with narrowed eyes, "I was right, brother. He does have a death wish."

"That's enough, Y/n!" Neteyam keeps a hand out in front of his sister to keep her at bay, then uses that hand to point accusingly at Ao'nung, "And you! We're going to see my father and you're gonna tell him what you told us. Let's go!"

Defeated and preparing for the inevitable, Ao'nung has the decency to at least lower his head in shame, half of his face still swollen from the fistfight so he winced in pain when he pouted. Neteyam moves to lead the three teens out of the jungle and Ao'nung moves to follow him. A hand shoves his arm, however, and the hiss Y/n breathes into his ear as she walked past him was the exact opposite of friendly.

"If my little brother is dead out there because of you, I promise not even Eywa will find whatever is left of you."

The twins had marched Ao'nung to their family's marui, demanding he explains to Jake what he did. After carefully listening, Toruk Makto didn't hesitate to seek out Tonowari and together they start a search party. It was already dark by the time the party set out, carrying tsmisnrr lanterns and other means of light around as they flew around on their tsurak. Neteyam and Y/n even took part in the search, flying their ikran back out after their parents made them promise to stay within sight of the village.

Soon enough, a Metkayina warrior hollers out a warning call, indicating he had found the missing boy. Lo'ak was safely brought back to the village and everyone had gathered around to check on his well-being. Neteyam and Y/n landed in the sand and rushed up to meet with their brother, watching him with their eyes as Jake and Neytiri inspect him for physical wounds. Overall, he appeared unharmed, all the while he glared up at Ao'nung, who had the decency to look ashamed. As the olo'eyktan insisted that his son was to blame for this incident, Lo'ak surprisingly came to Ao'nung's rescue, blaming himself and speaking for the other boy's innocence. Jake was not amused by Lo'ak's method of gaining friends and sent the boy home after berating him for shaming the family. Once alone, both Jake and Neytiri turn to Neteyam.

"Where were you?"

"Yeah, what happened to keeping an eye on your brother?"

"Sorry, sir."

Y/n, always her brother's shadow, stepped up from behind him, appearing in the soft glow of the village lanterns, "No, it was my fault. I asked 'Teyam to come flying with me and hunt." When both parents turned to one another, exchanging a voiceless conversation, Y/n's tail twitched, "You DID say we should always pair up if we ever go flying over open water."

Jake's posture deflated, eyes closed to refrain from getting another headache, "Sweetie--"

"He can't be in two places at once, Dad," the teen girl stated with drooping big eyes and lowered ears, "That's not fair. Instead of relying on your son to look after your kids, how about the parents do it for a change?"

The words stun both the parents and brother, all three staring at Y/n in shock as if she had just grown a second head. Neytiri's shock is the first to shrink in and turn to guilt, bottom lip puckered as she moved to reach out for her daughter. Jake didn't contract whatever sentiment his mate was feeling, however, as his posture stiffened back into a former olo'eyktan and war leader. He pointed an accusing finger at her.

"This attitude, Y/n, wherever it came from, stops now. This rebellious phase is over, young lady."

"Ma Jake." Neytiri's tone was gentle, with a small hint of a threat, as if daring Jake to interrupt her, "She is fifteen. Do you remember what you were like at that age? Although I doubt this personality is not a phase. I believe it is from watching you."

Jake looked back at his mate, scandalized while Neytiri just smiles and places her hand on Y/n's shoulder, "Look at her, Jake. Look at both of them."

He dutifully turned to inspect the twins, both of them staring up at him with identical, pouting eyes that nearly made him cave to anything they asked for when they were little. They kept their hair braided and near their shoulders, aligned with beads much like the hairstyle Neytiri wore when Jake first met her all those years ago. Their tanhì were not identical, Neteyam's forming rounded or lined patterns along his nose and under his eyes while Y/n's appear more scattered on her forehead and down her cheeks like constellations. Neteyam didn't have eyebrow hair, Y/n did. He didn't have an extra finger on each hand, but Y/n did. Both looked like Neytiri, which was easy to see, but Neteyam inherited more Na'vi features from their mother while Y/n definitely inherited the alien features from their father.

Neytiri admired her two oldest children with a fond smile as she reached out to grip her husband's arm, "They are the perfect balance of what we were like. They inherited the best parts of us."

A beat of silence is left between the four of them before Jake relents, unable to look his children in the eyes any longer and waving them away, defeated, "Go rest. Make sure your brother's alright."

"Yes, sir." They both say simultaneously, trying not to appear rushed when they quickly made their exit, beads clinking together as their braids moved while they walked.

~~~~~~~~~

The next day, both Neteyam and Y/n were surprised to discover Ao'nung hanging out with Lo'ak willingly, and Lo'ak didn't appear bothered. In fact, the future olo'eyktan didn't seem interested in being anywhere unless with the Sully kids and his sister and Rotxo. He still appeared wary of them, but at least he wasn't insulting them under his breath anymore. At one point in the early afternoon, all the kids huddled around on the rocks by the beach after their chores were done and had asked Lo'ak what happened the night before. He explained how he was attacked by an akula but saved by a tulkun. The reef children doubted his story until Lo'ak gave a brief description of the creature. Tsireya, Ao'nung, and Rotxo were all shocked and explained the horror stories they knew of Payakan, unwilling to believe he could have been friendly to Lo'ak until the young Omatikaya stormed away.

Y/n had listened quietly and waited until she was back in the marui to voice her thoughts while she and her twin were weaving a fishing net together, "He's confusing."

"Who?" Neteyam looked up and caught the knowing look in her eye, "Ao'nung?"

"Yeah. He's acting... nice. He's actually sweet when he's not around the other reef boys."

"Yeah, he acts like he's related to Tsireya." Neteyam chuckled lightly through his nose.

"You think Lo'ak made up with him?"

"I think so. Or maybe some level of respect and understanding has been placed."

"Still. He was cruel." She snarled, willing herself to remember the reef boy up until the day they met him, "I don't understand how Lo'ak could forgive him. He nearly died because of Ao'nung. Kiri was harrassed by him and you guys fought."

Neytiri and Jake both enter the marui and weren't ashamed to admit they were eavesdropping when the Na'vi woman pitched in on the conversation, sitting down in front of her twins to help with the net, "He's likely just starting to warm up to you, maite."

Neteyam grins teasingly, eyebrow ridge raised in his sister's direction while speaking to his mother, "Yeah, her especially. You should see the way he stares at Y/n when she's not looking, sa'nok."

Y/n feels her neck crack when she spun her head to stare at her brother, appalled as he laughed. Obviously, he must be right about Ao'nung staring when she wasn't looking since this was all news to Y/n. Her shock turns into a scowl as she reaches over to push his shoulder, "That's ridiculous. I attacked him with an ikran, ridiculed him in front of his friends, and threatened to tear him to pieces if anything happened to Lo'ak. He's likely planning another way to humiliate me."

Jake was cleaning his gun while they talked but took a moment to side-eye his daughter when she mentioned threatening the life of the chief's son. Y/n only smiled back in response to her father's silent scrutiny, her tail waving behind her with feigned innocence. Jake returned to his weapon while shaking his head, though he didn't hide the small corner of his mouth turning up. Neytiri smiled while watching the interaction, though it didn't reach her eyes. A small wave of sadness embraced her, a harsh reminder that her babies were growing and she could not keep them forever. Soon they'll be old enough to be considered adults once they have fully completed the trials of their Iknimaya, and then they'll be free to choose their mates. The idea of her children teasing each other over innocent little crushes brings both fondness and sadness to Neytiri's mind. Where had the time gone?

She shuffled from her sitting position in order to reach her daughter, pulling a braid out of Y/n's face, "People are cruel when they're faced with something they don't understand, matxe'lan."

"Neytiri, don't you dare try to teach our daughter Ao'nung is mean to her because he likes her," Jake spoke up, finished cleaning his weapon and now looking down the sights of it with a certain reef boy at the forefront of his mind, "That way of thinking never worked on Earth and I'll be damned if I let my children believe that sort of behavior is normal."

"It is true." Neytiri's eyes began to glitter with mischief, "Although if you are anything like your father, you'll likely make a skxawng of yourself when trying to impress someone."

Jake nearly chokes while his twins burst out laughing.

~~~~~~~~~

Y/n was disappointed when she was the last of her family to finish chores late in the day, leaving her alone while they were all elsewhere. Tsireya and Rotxo have taken Neteyam, Kiri, and Tuk to the Cover of the Ancestors to show them where their Spirit Tree resided, and Lo'ak disappeared right before then, likely to go meet with his new 'friend'. As for her parents, Y/n was certain they were with Tonowari and Ronal for the day, helping them gather medicinal plants from the jungle. This left Y/n to her own devices, though she didn't have any idea what to do with this newfound freedom, so she started by just casually walking along the beach. She traveled quite a ways, the village now in the distance behind her. The beach was getting thinner to the point where she was surrounded. One side of her held the vast ocean, the other side a dense, deep green jungle. Y/n wondered how long it would take for her to completely walk around the whole island, betting on possibly two days if she did nothing but sleep and walk.

Her thoughts are interrupted by the sound of something breaking through the gentle waves reaching up to the beach, and as her head spins around, her eyes immediately narrow on who was following.

It was Ao'nung, astride a hyper ilu as he himself appeared in a chipper mood, perking up and waving a fin-hand at her, "Hey! Forest Girl! Where are you going?"

"None of your business, Seaweed Brain." Was her immediate response, her internal defenses on high alert. She kept walking away but Ao'nung made sure to keep in stride with her, swimming just close enough to the shore where his ilu wouldn't get beached.

"Well, then let me come with you. Or if you are not actually going anywhere, I can show you a few good spots."

Her head turns back to him, openly skeptical as she pointedly stared at the distant village behind him, "What about your dick friends?"

He flashed her a confused grin, "My what?"

Right. 'Dick' is an alien word. Y/n huffs, rolling her eyes and facing ahead, still walking away, "You know, the pricks you were with while you were harassing my sister. Are they coming, too?"

"Oh. I dropped them."

It was said so casually, but it only confused her more, repeating the words on her own tongue, "You dropped them?"

"I don't like hanging out with them anymore," He shrugged, maneuvering his ilu to drift into deeper waters when it got too shallow, "They're no fun. All they wanna do is annoy everyone."

"And you don't?"

"Ha ha," he replied sarcastically with a deadpanned expression, "Come on, Forest Girl. Do I look like I'm in a position to trick you? I know your ikran is just one call away. I'm not that stupid."

"No?" She feigns surprise even as she slowly enters the water, the ocean greeting her up to her knees. She knew he had a good point and therefore, because of her boredom, decided to humor the reef boy and take up on his offer, "'Could've fooled me. Your stupid enough not to remember my real name."

Ao'nung rolls his eyes, "You don't exactly use my real name either."

One corner of the Omatikaya girl's lips stretches up and she shrugs with one shoulder in a touché motion. Using her tongue to make various clicks and calls, another ilu emerges from the ocean, and Y/n wads over to it, skillfully mounting it and making tsaheylu. Getting situated, she turns to Ao'nung impatiently, "Well? You mentioned a 'good spot'. Let's see it."

His grin wasn't the usual mischievous smile she had grown to correlate with him. It was more genuine and excited, his blue eyes twinkling like when the sun catches the striking blue sea. Y/n blinks in surprise at her own thoughts, quickly shoving them down as she tightens her jaw and her grip on the ilu, stubbornly staring ahead instead of at the boy.

Ao'nung drifted ahead of her, looking back over his shoulder, "Follow me! The best time to see it is at eclipse."

Both he and his ilu dive under the water and with only her thoughts, Y/n holds her breath and wills her ilu to do the same. The scenery vastly changes from land to ocean life, and the beauty below the water doesn't get ignored. Y/n was still fascinated by the ocean, always finding something new and exciting to explore. She dutifully follows Ao'nung and his ilu, smiling at the cute clicks and hums the swimming creatures make to each other. Swimming on an ilu isn't that different from flying on an ikran, only the ikran only have one rider their whole lives. The similarity between swimming in the water and flying in the air is that they both feel like freedom, riding faster than the two young Na'vi could on their own.

It wasn't a long swim, but they had completely lost the village behind them, still following the beach in the opposite direction as Y/n was doing earlier. Eventually, Ao'nung and his ilu rise to the surface, and Y/n follows, greedily gulping down air when she and her ilu breach. As she caught her breath, she looked around, trying to decipher where they were until she follows Ao'nung's gaze, her jaw slowly dropping in awe.

A large shadow had quickly grown over the teens in their approach. Looming above them was a high cliff, connected to the island and facing the open sea. This large rock face was greatly different from the ones Y/n remembered seeing as her family flew away from their home and flew across open seawater. Erosion had eaten its way through the center of the rock face, naturally cutting all the way through the cliff to form a large archway, hundreds of feet above Y/n's head. The only thing connecting the cliff to the rest of the island was the natural bridge made up of stone and plant life at the top of the arch.

"We call this place 'Sänrr Rong,'" Ao'nung explained while watching Y/n's amazed expression, craning her neck to look up at the tall archway, "'The Glow Tunnel.'"

Y/n lowered her head to face Ao'nung, the question on the tip of her tongue before he waves her off, "Wait a moment. You'll see."

And it was perfect timing. Eclipse came upon the pair and before her very eyes, Y/n witnessed a beautiful transformation. As the world darkened, bioluminescent algae began to glow and travel all the way up the inside walls of the rock archway, igniting the tunnel all the way through to the other side of the tunnel. It was so bright against the contrast of darkness that Y/n could look down and see all sorts of ocean life existing below her, an entire ecosystem that lived underneath this archway as she and Ao'nung slowly drifted through it. The water almost looked nonexistent because of how clear it was. The brightness of the arch led all the way down under the water and came back up the other side, surrounding them like a complete circle, giving off the illusion that Y/n and Ao'nung were floating on air, still straddling their peaceful ilu.

Ao'nung softly explains the beautiful sight, not wanting to ruin the illusion for the Na'vi girl, "The waves grow really high in this area, especially during storms. That's why the algae stretch all the way up to the ceiling of the tunnel. My people sing about this place, calling it the 'Doorway to Eywa' in many songs."

"Are we allowed to be here?" She asked, afraid this was a sacred place and as an outsider, she might be overstepping a boundary. This place was way too beautiful for her to be disrespecting it with her presence.

"We're still within the reef. Nothing big swims out here apart from txampaysye. We're safe. Some of the men take time away from the village and come here. Some of them cliff dive." Ao'nung catches a brief scrunch of her nose and eyebrows, an adorable expression if he wasn't trying to figure out her confusion, "You know-- cliff diving?"

Her expression falls into something more blank and impassive, unimpressed as she gestured to herself, "Do I look like I've lived around cliffs?"

He quips back in his own defense, "Do you not have an ikran rookery in the forest?"

"Well, yeah, but all the cliffs in Ayram Alusìng just lead to certain death. We don't have cliffs above water."

Ao'nung's jaw opened in disbelief, eyes bugging out of his skull as if she just told him the most unbelievable news of all time. The shock eventually wears off and is replaced by a shit-eating grin, the mischief she's grown accustomed to finally returning to his smile, "Come on. It'll be fun!"

He moves towards the cliffside and Y/n immediately reaches forward with a hand, words tumbling out, "Maybe some other time. We need to be home soon."

A mocking eyebrow ridge rises as he grins knowingly at her, "Are you sure you're not just scared?"

Her eyes narrow and her ears pin back, unwavering despite the nerves running about in her stomach, "I think you and I have been in enough trouble with our sa'sem as of late."

He relents then with a whiny groan, throwing his head up at the sky before coming back down to earth-- so to speak, "Fair enough."

The reef boy clicks his tongue, the ilu perking up attentively. Ao'nung moves to lead the way back home before he feels a hand briefly grip his arm, "Ao'nung."

He looks up, shocked as his eyes meet Y/n's, blue against yellow. Ao'nung's ilu makes a displeased noise, the creature doing a full-body shudder. Y/n didn't question it, but Ao'nung's gaze turned to the ilu, glaring down at it as if the animal betrayed him in some way shape or form. However, unbeknownst to Y/n, the ilu was only reacting to what it had felt through the bond after Ao'nung's name slipped past her lips. Ao'nung's glare relents after a moment, eyes glancing down at her small, alien hand touching his arm before he bravely glanced back up at her through his lashes.

She smiled, genuinely, like when she first saw the beauty of the archway. The attention sent a thrill up his spine, "Thank you for bringing me here."

His mouth felt dry, the tip of his ears burning but he was certain she couldn't tell in the dark. Perhaps the big ugly bruise her brother left on his face masked the embarrassment. He couldn't stare at her any longer and glanced back in the direction of the village, "You're welcome, Y/n."

Eclipse was over by the time they returned to the village. They had not returned as soon as they left, often finding themselves distracted during their swim home when either Ao'nung splashed her or Y/n chased him around on their ilu. Either way, their mounts weren't irritated, equally playful and mischievous as their riders. The young N'avi pair both felt estranged when they heard the other laugh, but it only egged them on to play around more, wanting to hear their laugh again. By the time they exhausted themselves from playing, they realized how much time had passed and finally returned to the village.

The only problem was that the village seemed tense upon their return. The joy quickly fled from Ao'nung and Y/n's faces, both scared and worried they were in trouble. However, the attention was not on the pair of teenagers, but on the gunship with war paint parked quietly on the bank closest to the Sullys' marui.

Ao'nung grabbed Y/n's shoulder instinctively and pulled her back to him, hissing at the sight of the gunship, "Sky People."

Y/n huffed and shoved his hand away, hope in her eyes with a small smile at the sight of the familiar war paint, "No, not these ones. These ones are loyal to the Na'vi and live among my clan."

Cautious and a little paranoid, Ao'nung only relented a little and eyed her down, "What are they doing here?"

That's where the hope died in her eyes, worry replacing it, "I don't know. I doubt nothing good."

The pair quickly rush to the Sullys' marui, finding a crowd of curious and equally paranoid Metkayina crowding up and down the walkways leading up to Y/n's home, worrying her further. Of course, it's always her family...

The first face she recognized was her twin, surrounded by Lo'ak and Rotxo. She rushed to her brothers with Ao'nung not far behind her, "'Teyam?" Neteyam spun around and his posture visibly relaxed, hand reaching out to gently grab the back of her neck as she looked around, "What's happening?"

"Kiri had a seizure underwater." He answered, eyes briefly glancing to Ao'nung standing behind his sister, taking note of it but not addressing it.

"What?" Y/n's eyes widen, her voice dropping to a whisper, shaking in fear.

"I don't know what happened." Rotxo explained, glancing between the teens who had just arrived, "I've never seen anything like it."

Ao'nung frowned, "Where are my mother and sister?"

"They're on their way. But there's Sky People in there, examining Kiri."

"I told you," Lo'ak addressed the concerned Rotxo, "Max and Norm are our friends. They want to help her."

Ao'nung turned to Y/n, "Aren't you the tsakarem of your clan? You could go to your sister."

Y/n shook her head, pulling Neteyam's hand off her head and squeezing it before letting go, taking a deep breath to calm her nerves, "I chose not to be. Either Neteyam will find a mate who can be tsahik one day... or Kiri can do it. She's been more fascinated by it than I. And she had been teaching Tuk a thing or two..."

Y/n's eyes widen as a thought dawns on her, looking around before addressing her brothers, "Where's Tuk?"

"She's with Kiri."

"She shouldn't have to see something like that. She's too little."

Before Y/n could rush to the marui to fetch her baby sister, the tsahik arrived. Ronal glides through the crowds as they part for her, the destination the only thing on her mind. Tsireya walked close behind her with her mother's supplies gathered in her arms, handing them to her before Ronal stepped into the home. Tsireya remained outside, turning back to her group of friends, and managing to catch Y/n by the shoulders before she stepped into the marui.

"Let her work, Y/n. My mother needs the space and there are already plenty of people in there."

"But--"

"Your parents and Tuk are with Kiri," the reef girl spoke gently, smiling with understanding and kindness as she guides Y/n away, "She is not alone, I promise. She'll be alright."

The group of teens keep a reasonable distance away from the marui, sitting or standing around in each other's company as they waited. Tsireya kept Y/n close to her as if she was waiting for the Omatikaya girl to bolt. Meanwhile, Y/n took note that her father had brought Norm and Max out of the home, but her mother, sister, and Ronal were nowhere to be found, and that made her more anxious than before.

Rotxo tried breaking the silence, glancing up at his childhood friend, "So what have you been up to today, Ao'nung?"

Ao'nung, who had his arms crossed while crouched down, glanced up casually, "I went to the Arch today."

"Without me? Not cool, man."

The dig was playful as Ao'nung moved to shove him, "Well, you went to the Cove without me."

Tsireya giggled, "But you hate the Cove, Ao'nung."

Ao'nung's ears pin back and his gaze lowers to the weaving patterns of the walkway below his feet, embarrassed, "I do not."

"Do, too. You think it's boring."

"I wanna see the Cove," Lo'ak perked up, "And the Spirit Tree."

Tsireya practically beamed, ducking her head a little bashfully, "I'll take you next time."

"And me?" Y/n asked, smirking to herself when she watched her little brother's face fall at the idea of her tagging along.

Lo'ak tries brushing his disappointment away with a scoff, "Maybe Ao'nung can take you, sis."

"Or we could all go together," Tsireya offered.

Y/n could tell that Tsireya was just trying to be nice. Well, Tsireya is always nice, but sometimes she's a little too nice. She'll gladly let Y/n come along even if it meant not having as much time with Lo'ak. It was disgusting how obvious those two were. Y/n rolls her eyes jokingly and shakes her head, "Nah. Never liked being a third wheel. You kids have fun."

Lo'ak choked as he tried to form words of disagreement while the other kids laughed and Tsireya's cheeks darken a deeper shade of blue. Finally, Lo'ak managed to form words and they were clearly defensive, "You have never been a third wheel ever in our lives!"

Y/n quirks an eyebrow, "Bro, have you seen Kiri and Spider?"

"That's different! You know they don't like each other that way!"

"What way are you referring to?" Y/n grins wolfishly, tilting her head as Lo'ak realized she had caught him in a web, "And what makes you think I was implying you and Tsireya felt that way?"

As the younger Sully boy sputtered, Neteyam groans a little, nudging Y/n, "Alright, that's enough. Leave him alone or he's going to whine to me later."

"Yeah, Forest Girl," Y/n's eyes dart to the sound of his voice, catching the usual grin plastered on Ao'nung's face, "Let the little ones go. I'll take you to the Cove a different day."

Lo'ak bristled at the words, glaring at Ao'nung, "I take it back, Y/n. You can come with us."

Author's Note: Did I write this so I'd have a reason to call Ao'nung 'Seaweed Brain'? Yes, yes I did. For those who understood the reference I fucking love you.

Also, I don't personally ship Kiri and Spider, I just kind of used the pairing as a foothold for Y/n's brothers to tease her. I think they're cute, and I thought that's originally what James Cameron was going for, but the more I look into it the more I think they just love each other like siblings. In the graphic novel 'The High Ground', Kiri even states that she loves Spider like a brother and Spider doesn't question it. I think he loves her like an older sister because she protects him against other Na'vi (Neytiri) and she sticks up for him. She makes him feel like he belongs, hence why he chose her over Quaritch. Also, Kiri is played by Sigourney Weaver. I don't feel comfortable shipping two characters whose actors have zero chemistry and have a huge age gap. Clearly, I think their relationship will build up to something in the upcoming movies (Kiri uses her Eywa powers to grant Spider a kuru braid and he'll be able to breathe Pandoran air without a mask) but I don't think it'll have anything to do with romance.

That's my personal take on it. No hate to Spider/Kiri shippers. I know not everyone ships certain pairings and hates others because of their opinions and that's not what I was doing. I support Kiri/Spider shippers through and through. I also support Neteyam/Spider shippers (lowkey kinda cute) and Lo'ak/Spider shippers (also lowkey cute). Personally, I ship Ao'nung/Neteyam and I know people are going to hate me for that. But I don't hate people for shipping who they want.

Anyway, that's my PSA that ties to this Ao'nung x reader. Hope you enjoyed it!

The 'anla series masterlist here

[ddejavvu]

poly marauders eating reader out for the first time!! it’s such an intimate, vulnerable act so readers probably nervous. as much as they’d be sweet and soft and stuff, i think they’d be fighting a bit with each other to actually get at you first, like usually they’re so good at sharing and it comes naturally, but with this they just can’t come to a conclusion because this is eating you out, and you’ve never done it before and you seem to be really curious and kinda needy for the experience (this could be amplified if they kinda only just started the sexual side of their relationship, and it’s the next big step for u before actual sex yk)

james ofc swears up and down it SHOULD be him bc it’s his passion not his hobby, he’s been dreaming of it, but remus makes the argument that he’s the most dominant (?) over you, so you’d feel more comfy with him doing it, but then sirius is like >:( my face is pretty, you really wanna deprive her of that view???? for her first time as well, you monsters

babe the day you stop sending me these is the day i'll quit tumblr. you're a treasure i hope you know that <33

this post is 18+, minors dni.

!!!!! no because you're probably really nervous !!! maybe it's your first time altogether, or just with them, but either way it's scary !!! what if you smell weird, what if you taste weird, what if you cum too fast, what if you can't cum at all, what do you do!!!!!! remus probably feels your heartbeat going crazy when he braces a hand on your chest to lean down and kiss you where you're laying back on the bed but he misinterprets it, just chuckles and goes 'excited, hm?' and you don't know how to tell him that you're actually scared he's going to be repulsed by you :(( you just sort of stutter an mhm and when James tries parting your thighs from where he's kneeling at the edge of the bed you tense up, and that's when they start wondering if something's wrong.

"Pet," Sirius croons, stroking a patch of skin over your upper thigh, "What's'a matter, hm?"

and maybe it's James's puppy eyes, maybe it's remus's soft touch on your waist as he helps you sit up, or maybe it's sirius still petting over your thigh, but they manage to get it out of you that you're nervous!! you don't want them to get grossed out!!

i do think sirius would laugh. not at you, not to be mean, but he's just so flabbergasted by the thought of you thinking he could ever be disgusted by your cunt that he probably snorts, and james and remus have to overcompensate like nono darling he's not laughing at you! we just- we don't really know why you'd think that, 's ridiculous, we could never be grossed out by you. promise.'

maybe james offers you a pinky, to swear on the fact that he'll never be repulsed by you, and then it comes down to the matter of who gets to have the first taste.

sirius insists that he should, to make up for the little scare he caused by laughing, and, of course, like you mentioned, to give you the most handsome view you'll ever see.

james begs for it to be him because c'mon, you know him, he loves body worship! and what better for your first time than slow, soft, and sweet, plus he's already got his chin resting on your tummy and he's pressing soft little kisses to the skin there just in case it'll help sway you into letting him to the same to your clit :]

remus still has a hand on your waist, now he's sitting beside you, and he leans in to kiss your jaw with this gorgeous throaty little hum. he noses at your ear, murmurs 'or me, darling? 've always been good at keeping you calm, yeah? 'think you could use a little bit of a leader here'.

James is >:O because what !!! he's a leader !!! he'd guide you through it!!! but remus says 'you'll melt in there, prongs' and everyone knows he's not wrong.

i'll leave this open to reader interpretation, somewhat of a choose-your-own-adventure story, but just know whichever two you don't choose to go first will occupy themselves with your tits or your mouth, and they'll all get a turn eventually, so you're in for a long night <3

[airybcby]

Omg I love love love your writing sm 🙏💕💕 and the new event is such a good idea I literally wanna eat your writing 😞

Could u request Shidou Ryusei with the emojis 🍉 and 🍭 please?

awee tysm!

a shidou ryusei watermelon lollipop

જ⁀♡⊹｡° it can't last

♡ a/n — for my more than a married couple event!

♡ content — shidou ryusei x gn! reader, gn! reader, nicnknames of 'baby' and 'sweetheart' used, shidou thinks this is funny, reader dislikes shidou, fake-dating

♡ synopsis — shidou ryusei isn't meant to be a settled down man, but this simulation with you may change his mind.

“Of all the people I could’ve gotten paired with, it just had to be you.”

You stood at the threshold of the shared apartment, glaring at Shidou Ryusei as he lazily leaned against the doorframe. His signature smirk was already in place, like he was thoroughly enjoying your misery.

“C’mon, you know you’re thrilled.” He winked. “Who wouldn’t wanna fake-date me? I’m the total package, baby.”

You rolled your eyes so hard you thought they might get stuck. “This is going to be a nightmare.”

“Or the best time of your life.” He stepped aside, gesturing for you to come in. “Welcome home, sweetheart.”

And you couldn't help but be annoyed by the display of your points going from '0' to '10' before you could even step into your new space.

From the beginning, Shidou made it clear he wasn’t going to take this seriously.

“Why bother?” he’d said with a shrug when you tried to go over the program’s guidelines. “This whole thing’s a joke, anyway. Just play along, and we’ll ace it.”

Playing along, as it turned out, meant Shidou being as over-the-top as possible. He’d drape an arm around your shoulders during group activities, call you ridiculously embarrassing pet names in public, and find any excuse to pull you close.

It was all a game to him—a way to keep things interesting. But for you, it was exhausting.

“What’s wrong, babe?” he teased one afternoon after you shoved him off for the third time that day. “You don’t like my affection?”

“It’s not affection if it’s fake,” you snapped, brushing past him.

“Fake?” He tilted his head, his grin turning sharp. “You wound me. I’m a method actor, you know. I don’t fake anything.”

You didn’t dignify that with a response.

Despite his antics, there were moments when Shidou surprised you.

Late at night, when the apartment was quiet, he’d drop the act, his usual bravado replaced with something softer.

“Don’t you ever feel like this whole thing is stupid?” he asked once, sprawled on the couch with his arms behind his head.

You glanced up from your spot at the kitchen table. “What do you mean?”

“This simulation crap.” He waved a hand vaguely. “Pretending to be someone’s perfect match. It’s all so fake.”

You hesitated, unsure how to respond. “I guess… it’s supposed to teach us something. About relationships, or compromise, or whatever.”

He snorted. “Relationships are a waste of time.”

“That’s a pretty cynical take.”

“It’s realistic,” he said, turning his head to look at you. “People just screw each other up. Why bother?”

You didn’t have an answer for that.

As the program went on, you started to notice cracks in Shidou’s façade.

The way his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes when he played the role of the perfect “husband.” The way he’d get quiet when the instructors praised other couples for their “genuine connection.” The way he’d occasionally look at you like he wanted to say something but stopped himself.

One night, after a particularly heated argument about how to divide chores, he blurted it out.

“You know, you’re not half-bad at this whole fake partner thing.”

You blinked, caught off guard. “Uh… thanks?”

“I’m serious,” he said, his usual smirk nowhere to be seen. “You’re… easy to be around. Even when you’re nagging me.”

Your heart stuttered in your chest, but you pushed the feeling aside. “Don’t get sappy on me now, Shidou.”

He laughed, the tension breaking as quickly as it had formed. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t let it go to your head.”

The final week of the program arrived faster than you expected.

By then, you and Shidou had settled into a strange rhythm. His over-the-top antics had toned down, replaced with something almost… comfortable.

But you couldn’t ignore the gnawing doubt in the back of your mind. For all his moments of sincerity, Shidou was still Shidou—chaotic, unpredictable, and impossible to pin down.

And you? You were starting to forget where the line between fake and real was supposed to be.

On the last day, as you packed up your things, Shidou lounged in the doorway, watching you with an unreadable expression.

“So, what happens now?” he asked casually.

You paused, your hands stilling over your suitcase. “What do you mean?”

“This.” He gestured between the two of you. “Us. Fake-dating or whatever.”

You swallowed hard, unsure how to answer. “The program’s over. I guess we go back to normal.”

“Normal,” he repeated, his tone unreadable. “Yeah. Right.”

For a moment, neither of you said anything. The silence stretched, heavy with things left unsaid.

Then he pushed off the doorframe, his smirk back in place. “Well, it’s been fun, partner. Try not to miss me too much.”

Before you could respond, he was gone, leaving you alone in the empty apartment.

You didn’t know what to make of the way your chest ached as you watched him walk away.

Maybe it was for the best. Maybe Shidou was right—relationships were a waste of time, and pretending could only get you so far.

But a small, stubborn part of you couldn’t help but wonder what might have happened if things had been different. If the line between fake and real had blurred just a little more.

As you closed the door behind you, you told yourself it didn’t matter.

But deep down, you weren’t so sure.

they could never make me hate you shidou

i hope you liked it!

likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated!

[daysofyellowroses]

ride

david von erich x reader | 1.5k | based on this lovely lovely request 🫶🏻 | no real warnings, just some softness 🌼💗

It sometimes makes you laugh when you think about how ridiculously stereotypical your relationship is in some ways. You love it, and wouldn't change it for anything, of course, but you really hit some classics.

Neighbors? ✔️

Met as little kids? ✔️

Went through school together? ✔️

First kiss? ✔️

First time? ✔️

Prom King & Queen? ✔️

But, while there are a lot of typical things about your relationship, you like to think you still have your own thing going on too. You and David have been officially dating since you were fourteen years old, you know each other better than anyone. You have your own private jokes, references, pet names, memories. 

It wasn't planned, of course. To get together so young and go through your life together. Hell, you both had a lot of life to live yet. Early twenties weren't exactly over the hill. But you just felt like what you had with David would be forever when you first got together. So far, you haven't been proved wrong.

The two of you always support each other, build each other up and push each other to go for your goals. Sometimes your friends ask if you get jealous now that David has joined Kevin in the ring, and has so much attention from girls. You just laugh when it comes up, there's really no reason to be jealous. If anything it just makes you feel more secure in your relationship. You know David enjoys the attention but he only has eyes for you, you're the one in his bed, in his truck, laying beside him in the grass, his hand intertwined with yours as he talks about your future together. 

It doesn't feel scary, thinking about a future with David. You can see a home, kids, a dog, the whole nine yards. Even if it was just you and him forever, you would still be deliriously happy. 

“What are you smiling about over there?”

David's voice snaps you from your thoughts, and you glance over to the driver's seat. 

“I would tell you but your hat wouldn't fit anymore,” You tease, looking back to the window. “And I would feel guilty, can't have that.”

“Aw come on,” David grins, his hand reaching out to touch your thigh. You're wearing shorts and the feel of his hand on your bare skin feels, as always, deeply comfortable and satisfying. “take the risk.”

“Nope,” You look over and stick your tongue out playfully. “You know anyway. I don't need to tell you.”

“Who says I know?” David is a terrible liar, always has been. 

“You know,” You grinned, shaking your head. “There's very few things that I allow space for in my daydreams.”

“True,” David nods, looking back to the road. The smile on his face has you wanting to kiss him. “And obviously I'm top of that list.”

You roll your eyes with a smile.  

“Stop being so cocky.”

“I don't think so darlin’,” David gently squeezes your thigh. “you love it.”

“Do I?” You raise a brow, knowing you both know the answer.

A comfortable silence falls over you, your hand resting on top of David's. You wonder if you'll ever get tired of this, of getting into his truck with no particular destination in mind. You don't think you could get tired of it, not when it feels so perfect. 

“When is Kerry coming home?” You ask, glancing over to David. He lets out the smallest of sighs, his thumb gently stroking your thigh.

“He leaves tomorrow morning,” David tells you, his eyes still on the road. “Should be home by the evening.”

“Okay,” You nod, gently stroking David's hand. “Just curious.”

“Could you..could you be there?” David asks after a moment. 

“Of course,” You nod, looking over to him. “You think I wouldn't be? It's like you don't even know me, babe. ”

David smiles a little and you feel yourself relax.

“Can't wait to see him though,” He says. “I mean, the circumstances ain't ideal but I can't say I ain't missed him like crazy.”

“It'll be nice to have him back,” You nod. “I'll have to fill him in on all the juicy gossip.”

“Do I get to know?” David teases, glancing over to you. “Or is it top secret stuff?"

“Oh it's just a silly thing,” You sigh with a smile, looking over to your window. “The blonde Von Erich boy is a big hot-shot wrestler now. On TV and everything, you should hear the filth that comes out of his mouth.”

“Oh he sounds incorrigible,” David gasped dramatically, making you laugh. “What a scoundrel.”

“Tell me about it,” You grinned, looking down at your hand on his. “I heard he's got a hot little girlfriend though.”

“Lucky him,” David grinned. “I bet she's got men throwing themselves at her feet, I'm sure he's extremely grateful she chose him.”

“Well when you can have the best, you get the best,” You smile, looking over to David. “And ain't nobody better than you.”

“Not true,” David looked over to you with a cheeky smile. “You're better, and I won't hear otherwise. I was lucky enough to get you and I don't plan to lose you.”

You still felt butterflies in your stomach when he said things like that, and you hoped that would never change.

“I don't plan to lose you either,” You grin, resting your free hand over your forehead. “You're stuck with me.”

“Then I'm the luckiest man alive,” David murmurs softly, you just catch it and it makes your heart soar.

You watch the world pass by the window for a while, the smile etched onto your face. In the moments David needs to move his hand from your thigh you feel the loss, your hand just waiting to hold his.

It's a little embarrassing, really, how in love you are. You have to laugh at yourself sometimes when you get moody because you haven't seen David for a couple of hours, or because he didn't hold your hand long enough. You suppose the fact that you're aware of it makes it better, and it's not really a bad thing. You're lucky enough to have an amazing relationship with a man who you love and who you know loves you.

You look over to him, watch him hum along to the radio, his fingers drumming against the wheel. These are the moments you treasure. All those girls screaming for him and desperately wanting his autograph only see one part of him. They see the confidence and the strength and the charisma, which are all amazing qualities, but they don't see what you see.

They don't see him snort out a drink because you made him laugh unexpectedly, they don't see him singing in his truck, or giving you a bunch of flowers on a Tuesday morning just because. They see what he wants them to see, and you feel beyond honored to see the real David.

“Oh hey, pull in up ahead,” You tell David, sitting up a little and gesturing at the window. “I need to grab something.”

“Your wish is my command baby,” David grins, parking up the truck and giving you a curious look as you wink at him and slip out of the truck.

You don't take long, coming back to the truck with a grin and two ice creams in hand.

“You're such a child,” David laughs as he opens the door for you and accepts one of the cones. “Making me stop for ice cream, really?”

“Well you ain't gotta eat it,” You shrug, closing the door and resting your leg up on your seat. “But we both know you will so stop complaining.”

“Oh I ain't complaining,” David smiles, leaning over and giving you a kiss. “far from it.”

“Eat that before it melts,” You murmur with a grin, leaning in to give him another kiss, pulling back after a moment and holding your ice cream between you both. “I mean it.”

“Yes ma'am,” David grins, sitting back and taking a lick of his ice cream. 

You laugh softly to yourself, looking out the window and licking your ice cream, David's hand finding yours across the seat.

The heat has your ice cream melting a little quicker, conversation is paused while you work on not getting strawberry all down your hand. David finishes before you, as always. You shuffle over and lean against him, his arm wrapping around your shoulders. Occasionally you hold the ice cream up and he takes a lick, insists you have it yourself.

You wonder if a day will ever come when you don't feel stupidly, wonderfully, madly in love, looking up and meeting David's eyes. He sticks his tongue out at you and you lightly jab his cheek with the ice cream in your hand.

“You started it,” You tease as he protests.

“Don't start a war you can't win.”

“Oh it's on,” David grins. You sit up and turn to look at him, your face starting to hurt from smiling so damn much.

“Then give me all you got.”

[s1m0nth3swag]

Don't mind me just giving short drabbles because I'm sitting in class and I'm bored :3

Leon is the love of my life and uhm domestic headcanons will forever be my favourite

live laugh love Leon Scott Kennedy <3

Leon grumbles as you practically push him onto the edge of the bathtub, looking up at you with his adorable blue eyes - for everything he's gone through, he still has that puppy look about him when he's with you. He pouts softly, sighing as you rummage through various cabinets and successfully find what you had been looking for - the Bleach and Toner he usually uses on his hair. Even though Leon is the one that has been complaining about the way his hair looks for the last week, he also absolutely despises getting it done. So instead, he normally would do it himself - which he was too lazy to do this time. Still, nothing but complains about how awful his hair looked grown out like this, how it was getting too long. You were a little fed up, to say the least. Now, you had enough and pushed him into the bathroom, determined to fix his hair issue.

[Helping Leon dye his hair - Some time after RE2, but also fits for RE4 | Leon most definetly dyes his hair blonde and then stops sometime after RE4 because he gets lazy (and a lil depressed) but as someone with dyed hair it's a pain each time imo]

He huffs and sighs and pouts the entire time, while you can't help but giggle a bit at the sight, especially with how ridiculous he looks once the Bleach is setting - you curse yourself for not having your phone nearby to take pictures. Leon would fight you over it anyway, and seriously, he was stronger than you - Government mandated Training and all. The now blonde haired only calms down once you finally rinse for the last time, hair still wet as he stares at you, swiftly shaking his head like a dog, sending droplets flying through the room. You scream slightly, laughing as you feel them hit your skin and clothes, trying to shield yourself. Leon chuckles softly, grabing your hips as he pulls you towards him, resting his head against your chest. A smile places itself on your lips, uncaring that your shirt was now properly soaked as you listen to his soft murmurs of thank yous.

[Vendetta Leon with a (much) younger partner - aka Leon and the internet | your honor what if I love older men]

You hold back a laugh as you hand Leon your phone, a funny meme on it that you had found while randomly scrolling social media for hours. He stares at it, his face scrunching in confusion as he looks up at you, holding your phone as if he didn't know what to do with it. You weren't fully surprised, it had already been a hassle to get him to upgrade his flip phone to a proper smartphone. You can't help but grin, and he sighs heavily. "Your humor will be the death of me one day, what is this, love?" He grumbles, brushing a strand of dark hair out of his eyes as you sit beside him, snuggling into his side as you start explaining the meme - in the end only earning a soft chuckle from the older guy, a simple show of endearment.

[Leon with the kitten he said he didn't want - RE4 Leon | He loves cats, you can't tell me otherwise]

He stares down at the small creature, watching as it desperately tries to climb up his leg, meowing in desperation. Leon didn't want a pet, at all. Especially not a cat that wouldn't be able to defend you or the home - he sighs as he thinks of all the puppies at the shelter that would've done a great job at that. He picks the small animal up, placing it in his lap, where it promptly flops down and starts purring. His heart isn't melting. Not one bit.

Only a few days later you practically have to pry the cat from Leon if you wanted to even have a second with it. It was crazy, at first Leon had said it would never get into the bedroom or bathroom, now it was allowed to snuggle up to him in bed and even follow him whereever he went. You thought that maybe, just maybe, he loved the cat a little more than he loved you. At least when you found him during his midday nap, and with the kitten on top his chest.

[fayes-fics]

Innuendo Bingo

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader, modern AU

Summary: Crack fic. Modern AU. Someone knows a LOT of stupid synonyms for orgasms...

Warnings: Teen and up. Sexual humour, a lot of stupidity. Non-explicit references to sex acts. Basically, I'm sorry.

Word Count: 0.8k

Authors note: Request fill for @sorryallonsy, who asked for Benedict crack fic with him coming up with stupid names for orgasms (ask HERE). I'm sorry this took SO LONG, especially as it is so short. However, I was in the mood to polish off (heheheh) something silly today, and this was just the ticket. Unbetaed cos it's ridiculous. Thanks, and err, enjoy, I guess? <3

Bridgerton family brunch happens once a month and is always memorable. The family usually takes over some swish eatery in central London for a few hours with their unique brand of noisy, chaotic camaraderie. Being Benedict's girlfriend, you are now a part of this melee. It’s one such Sunday when you are finishing your quite delicious but oversized meal that Benedict leans in.

“I can't wait to have you naked again,” he rumbles right in your ear.

You almost spit your last mouthful all over the table. After a few beats, you recover enough to reply.

“Your mother is right there!” you chastise sotto voce, nodding imperceptibly across the table, pulling a pointed expression, even as your mind is filled with images of him waking you up just this morning with his tongue between your thighs.

“Please,” he withers good-naturedly. “I have seven siblings. Do you really think this libido isn't genetic?” he jests, a hand on your knee now. 

“Stop it!” you giggle, not wanting to think of his mother that way.

 “Also, she is not paying us any mind,” he points out, crowding closer. 

Indeed, she is engrossed in a chat with Kate and has one of Daphne’s kids ensconced in her lap, diverting all her attention.

“Besides, are you telling me you don't want to have another orgasm today?” he goads, lips warm on your neck as those fingers spider higher up your thigh, knowing precisely what your weak spots are and exploiting them.

“Well, now… I didn’t say that…” you counter, eyes fluttering closed briefly at his onslaught. “But I might need a few hours after all this food,” you mime a bloated stomach.

It's his turn to chuckle, a warm sound that skitters over your skin. “That's fair,” he assesses. “Can't be releasing the Kraken if you have a food baby…”

You can't help but emit a bark of laughter at that. Everyone at the table looking briefly askance at you before resuming their discussions.

“The what?” you wheeze.

“You heard me,” he quips warmly. “Don't like that? I've got a million more,” he vows, eyes twinkling with mischief.

“Don't…” you warn softly, but that just seems to goad him on.

“Making waffles? Popping the weasel…?”

“Waffles?” you frown, “I thought it was whoopee?”

“That too,” he smiles, eyes crinkling in that adorable way as he continues. “Petting the cat? Nulling the void? You can cuff my carrot, and I’ll dial your rotary phone?” each phrase is delivered full of mirth, close to your ear, and you can't help the stupid grin on your face.

“Stop it,” you protest weakly, nudging him gently with your elbow but having to muffle your laughter into his shoulder.

“I’ll stop when you stop finding them funny…” he counters genially. “Marching the penguin? Downstair DJing? Turning on the sprinklers? Debugging the hard drive?”

Each one has you hopelessly sniggering to the point you can't breathe, and little tears form at the corner of your eyes.

“What in God's name are you doing to your girlfriend, Benedict?” Anthony’s voice suddenly rings out from the head of the table. “It looks like she is about to die… hands where I can see them, please!”

Everyone at the table twists to look at you and laughs as both of you instantly raise your hands as if being held hostage; you mortified by the idea everyone thinks you might be up to things in front of them all, even though you know Anthony is joshing. 

But then Benedict murmurs a quiet parting shot out the corner of his mouth. 

“Chastising the family… jewels...”

And yeah, your loud snort is definitely undignified.

—

You are back at his place relaxing on the sofa a few hours later - When Harry Met Sally is playing on the TV - when he wraps an arm around your shoulder.

“Fancy doing a Meg Ryan?” he whispers, his tone laced with levity.

“Bit late for that. We left the restaurant a few hours ago,” you sigh in mock disappointment, a playful smile tugging at the corner of your mouth.

“I don't mind a private performance,” he breezes, trailing a hand over your neckline and nuzzling your cheek. “I rather like the idea of watching you paddle your pink canoe….”

Yeah, no, you definitely lose it at that one. 

Collapsing into him, your laughter does not even subsidise when he unzips your dress with his practised skill.

“Please… one ticket to the solo show just for me?” he implores, kissing along your jaw. “Visit that safety deposit box? Orbit Venus? A little double-clicking?”

“You are going to need to stop…” you object faintly, an odd mix of lightness from giggling so much and arousal coursing through you as his fingers circle over your underwear.

“Never…..” he teases in that gravelly tone that always persuades you.

“Fine, but only if I can watch you polish your bannister…” you throw back, pushing off your underwear with a comic flourish.

His laugh is deep and all-consuming, racking his whole frame as he suddenly scoops you up and strides towards his bedroom.

“Deal!”

Benedict taglist: @foreverlonginguniverse @colettebronte @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @broooookiecrisp @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @benedictspaintbrush @miindfucked @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @truly-dionysus @fictionalmenloversblog @zinzysstuff @malpalgalz @panhoeofmanyfandoms @kinokomoonshine @causeimissu @delehosies @m-rae23 @last-sheep @kmc1989 @desert-fern @starkeylover @corpseoftrees-queen @magical-spit @bunnyweasley23 @how-many-stars-in-the-sky @amygdtjhddzvb @sya-skies @balladynaaa @urfavnoirette

[buryhny]

One Night stand ; 04

➥ rundown ; as if the unexpected twist of a one-night stand turning out to be your CEO boss wasn't surreal enough, the situation takes a more challenging turn when both of you discover that you're expecting his child.

→ genre ; enemies to lovers | CEO au | pregnancy trope | slowburn

→ Jungkook x y/n

→ contains smut, fluff and angst

→ Chapter Four ; wc | 3.1 k

primarily on Wattpad

index ⇢ next chapter

Working couldn't have been any better, it keeps you occupied and it feels amazing to be doing something you love and spent years learning for. it's been a little over 2 weeks now and you will be lying if you say you don't miss working at the cafe. that has to be one of the loveliest times of being an adult, trying new coffee arts for different customers, being recognised but your favourite everyday coffee lovers, serving pastries and cakes to students who come to the cafe to study or do their homework. 

you also miss the aroma of the coffee beans, it always makes you feel like home and whenever the weekend comes by, you don't forget to pass by the little shop to collect your daily order, honey almond milk with extra cream and caramel. working with Hoseok comes with new stories every day. that man has got a lot of stuff to talk about and that has made the two of you really good friends.

he's always ready to lend a hand when you need any help or are in doubt with certain areas of work, the man makes sure to have lunch together and it's become a routine now. which you've adjusted in no time, shows how badly you wanted this job. you've managed to keep up with going to the gym too, instead of the week days you chose to go during the weekends so it's stress free and you've got the time to relax after too. 

Kayla and a few other girls called you a couple of times over the weeks to hangout at the club but you declined to join them because you've got enough on your plate to handle besides you can't suffer from hangovers when there's already a pile of work load.

"I won't be flying anytime soon mom. Don't be ridiculous!"

You laughed at her words sitting upright and crossing your feet on the couch, your darling mother has been missing you so much that she wants you to fly back to Canada.

"Am I being ridiculous for wanting to see my one and only daughter. It's been 2 years! " She huffed earning a giggle from you, as she did the same. "How's the Job? Is your boss treating you right?" She questioned curiously, that caused you to roll your eyes, with a deep exhale leaving your lips, there's only so much you could tell your mom about him. "he's fine, can be annoying." "Y/n don't say that-" "mom, you have no idea. Anyway I'll hang up now, I'll call you over the weekend bye." "Y/n-" "bye mom, love you-"

you declined the call, aware that she's gonna give you a little speech and then throw questions at you. There's no time to answer all that. You've now got a Clothes brand to advertise for and that's so exciting!

you've been working on this for days, it's tiring but you're enjoying this new experience. However you do feel lonely in your apartment, the sounds of the TV only keeps the room from being silent. Playing your 'work' Spotify playlist, you sing along while typing in your laptop. you wish you'd made more friends or got a pet.

The song that played next was a slowed reverb of 'Streets' by Doja cat, you glanced at the TV and then sighed, leaving a scowled look on your face. 'Streets' has always been a sensual song but this slowed down version only reminded you of that one night.

"No- no no stop right there y/n." When those visions were about to conduct your mind, you immediately change the song.

-

During lunch break, you were engrossed in a lively conversation with Hoseok. Both of you burst out laughing as you recounted the time you slipped in the bathtub and hit your knee so hard it looked like you were kneeling to a ghost.

Just as you were enjoying the chat, your CEO, Jeon Jungkook, rudely interrupted. "Ms. Lee! Did you forget there's a meeting today?" You stood up respectfully, puzzled. As far as you knew, there was no meeting scheduled. "Sorry, Mr. Jeon, but I don't have any meetings scheduled for today-" "Well, are you busy right now?" he asked sharply, his chest puffed out and hands in his pockets. Feeling uneasy, you shifted from foot to foot under his scrutiny. The eyes of the staff and Hoseok flicked between Jungkook and you. Jungkook rarely came to the café on the ground floor, preferring meals in his office.

"Uh- I'm not exactly bus-"

"You could use this time more productively with the creative team rather than having," he glanced disapprovingly at Hoseok and then back at you, "a little chit chat here. Get to work, Ms. Lee. Right. Now." He turned and walked away, leaving the surrounding staff in shocked silence.

You swallowed hard, clearing your throat as you packed away your uneaten croissant. you found this whole situation to be embarrassing and humiliating. he didn't have to create a scene in front of the staff. Would he lose a piece of himself if he had called you over personally for a few minutes instead of snapping at you in a public area.

"I- I'll catch up with you later, Hoseok. Enjoy your meal," you muttered, forcing a tight smile. Ignoring Hoseok's concerned response, you hurried away, you didn't want to spend any more time at the place where you were shamed. Jungkook's public reprimand made your blood boil. You wished you could confront him and wipe that smug look off his face, if he thinks he can do this stunt again then he's wrong. he does not know who Lee Y/n is. 

As you entered the boardroom with your iPad and laptop that was of the company, you found it empty. Puzzled, you approached the manager in the section. You clearly had an irritated look on your face and now seeing the boardroom empty only made the frown on your face deeper.

"Where's the meeting?" you questioned the man and he looked at you, confused. "There's no meeting scheduled today." Feeling a surge of frustration, you stormed back to your desk, only to receive a call on the office phone. "Hell-" "At my office," Jungkook interrupted.

His abruptness left you fuming, you could feel the heat pass out your ears and nose. Gathering your belongings hastily, you made your way to the 32nd floor, knocked on his door, and poked your head in. Jungkook was in the middle of a conversation with another man.

"Excuse me, Mr. Jeon, may I come in?" you murmured. Upon his nod, you entered and noticed Park Jimin seated there, which only made you inwardly groan. Jungkook gestured for you to sit beside Jimin. "you've both been called here to test your skills. Park Jimin has been with us for a little over-"

"Four years, Mr. Jeon," Jimin interjected smugly, no one has the right to interrupt the CEO but Jimin gave no fucks, even though the interruption left Jungkook annoyed he didn't let it show on his features.

"A little over four years," Jungkook continued, "and Ms. Lee," he gave you a nearly mocking smile, "has been here for a little over two weeks." You nodded in determination, unsure where this was heading. "I've heard about the incident in the basement. Does that ring a bell?" Jungkook's fingers tightened around his ring.

Jimin gave you a sideways glance. "Ms. Lee holds a higher position than you, Mr. Park, but now I'm beginning to doubt that." Your eyes widened in shock, while Jimin seemed to internally celebrate. "I've been observing your work, Mr. Park, and I find your ideas unique. Therefore, I have a challenge for Ms. Lee and Mr. Park. I need your ideas for a new makeup brand project. Can you handle it along with your other responsibilities?"

Both of you nodded obediently. "Details will be sent by email," Jungkook said, casting a glance at you before focusing on his fingers. "I want detailed ideas, no personal opinions. Understand, Ms. Lee?"

You felt the sting of his words when he pulled up one of the worst nightmares of working here, but you managed to reply with confidence, "Yes, Mr. Jeon." "Good." He smirked as you stood up, exiting the room. Jimin's smug expression only added to your irritation.

"No one cares about your opinions, Ms. Lee. Be ready to switch to a lower position soon," Jimin taunted with his smile and tone, but you weren't one to let go easily.  "Did you just admit you're in a lower position, Park Jimin?" you voice out your thoughts, stopping the man's feet from walking away. he turned to face you, he had his frustration shown in his lips and eyebrows.

"Not for long. I'll be taking yours soon enough," he chuckled in a mocking tone, leaving you fuming. Park knows how to handle people, he's fully aware of how he's gonna respond to each word thrown at him and he gladly takes it and slaps it back.

Back at your desk, you bit the inside of your cheek in frustration, you need to calm down. Working with anger issues is difficult especially when you've got a stupid arrogant boss and co-workers that test your patience at each step and breath you take. Rosé approached with some files, sensing something was wrong.

"Everything okay?" she asked curiously as she gives you a soft concerning look, leaving the files on your desk, placing a hand on your shoulder. "Yeah, just got more work from Mr. Jeon," you replied with a smile, not showing any signs of worry or anger on your face. you really appreciated her support and care. 

The day dragged on, and by the time you were ready to leave, you still hadn't received the email with project details, which only added to your frustration.

Kayla

Wanna hang out at least today?

Please girl!

It's been a while :(

It's true, it's been awhile since you last met her. Maybe hanging out today will be fun. Besides, the details weren't sent either so work can wait.

Y/n

Alright where?

Kayla

Club, down the street of Popeyes

Y/n

No, no clubbing

Café?

Kayla

what?! So boring god

Fine

You can unmistakably detect her irritation. Yet, the idea of heading out clubbing with all the accumulated stress and responsibilities feels daunting. Tomorrow being Wednesday, a workday, waking up at 7 a.m. with a hangover is the last thing you desire. Everyone has vacated your floor, leaving you in solitude except for two employees who share laughter at the far end of the corridor. Making your way to the elevator, weariness weighs on you, though there's a flicker of anticipation to reunite with your friend. You're well aware she has plenty to share, judging by her eagerness to meet. 

As the elevator doors shut, you lean against the corner, shutting your eyes. The prolonged hours staring at the screen have left your eyes burning, and the need to rest them is evident. you know that it's just about a month since you joined. you can't afford to strain your eyes too much. However, you've been experiencing fatigue lately, the cause of which remains unknown. you feel different, unlike you. like the insides of your system have changed their settings. The elevator halts and opens a couple of times, weary staff members stepping in and out.

A robust waft of black vanilla scent greets you as the elevator stops on the 12th floor. Inhaling deeply, you recognize the unmistakable scent. Your eyes remain shut, a departure from your usual acknowledgment. Jungkook takes a passing glance at you, rolling his eyes as he mutters 'cheesecake' mockingly under his breath, shooting a sidelong glance. His thoughts about you are unclear. You bear no resemblance to the girl he encountered at the club. The realization of the influence he holds surprises him. Shooting you a frosty stare, he observes you exhale audibly before the elevator reaches the basement.

You open your eyes, exiting alongside Jungkook, offering a respectful bow to avoid leaving a negative impression on him. You head left while he veers right towards your respective cars. No words are exchanged. No eye contact is made.

-

"Gurl, work has turned you into such a bore, but I've missed you!" Kayla envelops you in a tight hug, instantly easing your tension. The exhaustion from work compounded with being single feels draining.You settle beside her, opting for hot chocolate and a simple chicken sandwich for dinner, the aroma of the sandwich is unpleasant and it's weird because you usually love the food in this cafe. but all you want is to retreat to the comfort of your soft bed at home and sleep.

"What's up with your boss? Has he been hitting on you or-" "Ew, no," you cringe at the suggestion, repulsed by the idea. There's no way you could view him in that light anymore. Kayla regards you suspiciously. "Why? he was your one-night fling, correct?"

Her words catch you off guard, why bring this up now? Kayla awaits your reaction, sipping on her iced latte while fixing her gaze on you. "He's just my boss now, Kay, that's it." Sensing your reluctance to delve further, she nods and shifts the conversation. She spends the next 30 minutes venting about a male colleague who seems overly interested in her conversations. Despite the intriguing topic, exhaustion gradually pulls you away from the present, causing you to close your eyes intermittently. 

Kayla instructs the café waiter to pack your sandwich to go since you haven't had dinner. She calls out your name a few times, eventually having to shake you awake as you're about to drive home. It's only 11 p.m., and you had planned to work until at least 1 a.m. Lately, however, you've been mentally drained, perhaps due to lack of sleep. After forcing yourself to shower, you collapse onto your bed, sleep enveloping you instantly.

Hoseok [ 12: 02 am]

Y/n, I'm so sorry for the late notice but could you give Kim Miniso's file to Mr Jeon tomorrow,

Like as soon as you get to the office. I know it's short notice, I trust you so please do, i've got an emergency and it's too late to inform Mr Jeon.

-

"Good morning Y/n, did you sleep well?" Rosè greeted you as you emerged from the elevator. You appeared refreshed, sporting a morning glow, a rarity due to your typically poor sleep quality. "Morning Rosè, I did. Very well." You chuckled in agreement as she walked alongside you, giving your shoulder a friendly pat upon reaching your desk. She proceeded to retrieve the keys for her drawers while you reflected on the benefits of getting more than three hours of sleep—it certainly made a difference. 

Today, you felt lighter, confident that work would go smoothly. You approached the day with determination, eager to outshine Park Jimin in the upcoming presentation. If he had an ego, so did you, and you refused to let him undermine your efforts, especially when it came to your hard-earned position. With the meeting scheduled for 2 p.m., you had ample time to prepare. Assisting your colleagues with their tasks and projects, you found satisfaction in their cooperation. The hours passed swiftly as you coordinated and organized items for upcoming shoots, ensuring timely completion of all projects.

"Yeah, I'll get my iPad, just a se—" The office phone's shrill ring interrupted you abruptly. Only the CEO himself would call you. "Lee Y/n speaking—" "To the office now!" His abrupt demand left you gasping, your expression tight-lipped and tense. 'What did he want now? Jerk.'You muttered curses under your breath as you dragged yourself to his office, dreading the encounter. Knocking on his door, you cautiously poked your head in. "May I come i—" "Walk in!"

His tone was unusually harsh, leaving you puzzled and annoyed. 'Why was he behaving this way?' You entered, taking slow steps until you stood before his desk, hands clasped behind your back. "Yes, Mr. Jeon?" "Where the hell is my file? Why have I not received it yet?" Panic surged through you as you realized you had forgotten about the file completely. Your hands trembled, and you met his glare with concern. "I-it's at my—"

"Bring it to me, right fuc- right now." His anger was palpable, evident in his reddened ears and clenched fists. "Right now, I said." His command prompted you to bolt out of his cabin in a frantic search for the file that should have been on his desk by 9 a.m. 'How could you forget?' Anxiety gnawed at you, knowing that Hoseok would also face consequences for this oversight. You bit your lip nervously, feeling the weight of his anger. He seemed too furious, almost scary. Hurriedly grabbing the file from Hoseok's drawer, you dashed to the CEO's office, hesitating outside his door. Hoping to avoid his wrath, you knocked and entered when he bid you to.

Placing the file on his desk, you bowed and apologized for your mistake. "This won't be repeated. Please excuse my mistake, Mr. Jeon." He remained silent, not even acknowledging your apology. Gesturing for you to leave, you exited quietly.

As you pondered, it dawned on you that the meeting was fast approaching—the task Mr. Jeon had mentioned. You didn't quite understand the purpose of it, but you had no choice but to comply. With Hoseok absent, the thought of facing Park Jimin alone for the rest of the day filled you with dread. As the creative team assembled for the meeting, you avoided making eye contact with anyone, especially Mr. Jeon. When he and Park finally entered, you kept your gaze fixed on the table, unwilling to meet their eyes. "Good afternoon, creative team. We may proceed with the meeting," Mr. Jeon announced, settling into his chair with a calm tone.

"Alright, let's hear out Park Jimin first." Jimin confidently presented his idea, and despite his arrogance, you couldn't deny his talent as a graphic designer. His proposal received applause, and you stole a glance at Mr. Jeon, who surprisingly appeared pleased. Suddenly, you felt insecure about your own idea. 'What if Mr. Jeon reacted unfavorably?'

"Great work, Mr. Park," Mr. Jeon commended, and you couldn't help but feel a pang of insecurity. You loved your idea, but self-doubt crept in, fueled by the day's earlier mistake. "Ms. Lee, please," Mr. Jeon spoke with a hint of annoyance in his voice as he gestured for you to proceed, and you rose from your seat, feeling a sudden wave of sweat despite your usual composure.

As you stood before the group, you felt the tension in the room escalate. However, you couldn't deny feeling proud of your work and determined to prove yourself. Taking a deep breath, you began your presentation, but suddenly, dizziness overcame you. Struggling to maintain your composure, you tried to push through, but before you could finish your sentence, darkness enveloped you, and you collapsed onto the floor.

"Ms. Lee—" "Ms—" "Ms. Lee—"

Muffled voices echoed around you as you slipped into unconsciousness, feeling nothing but coldness enveloping you.

next chapter ⇢

[bring-forth-his-sac]

The Christmas Party - Chapter 5

Summary: Now that you and Negan are on good terms, you have demands from Gregory to deal with and a liquor run that doesn't go as expected...

Tags: Modern AU, Teacher AU, Gossip, Swearing, Pet Names, Slow Burn, Alcohol Mentions, Flings,

Word Count: 7.7k

A/N: y'all I promise the last 2 chapters won't be as long lmao

check out the previous chapter here!

If there's one thing about Negan that irritates people, it's his luck. 

From what he can tell, no one saw the message he sent last night before he quickly deleted it. Sure, he’s caught a few strange looks from the likes of Tara and Aaron, but none of them have said anything.  

To him, that's a good sign. If they saw the message, he figures they'd have made some snarky comment by now just to relish in his discomfort.

Negan had originally planned to stop by and see you before classes started, but a detour on his way to school threw off his timing. And so he had to wait until the first break of the day to make his move. 

Letting his class out a few minutes early, he grabs a small paper bag and makes his way to your classroom. Just to prove he's on his best behavior, Negan waits outside your room, holding himself back from barging in during your lesson. 

And who says an old dog can't learn new tricks?

"Negan?" You glance up from your desk once you’ve dismissed your class. He catches the surprised look you didn’t quite manage to hide as you ask "What are you doing here?".

He grins, holding up the paper bag and giving it a little wiggle. "I got a baggy with your name on it," he teases, clearly enjoying himself "thought I’d walk you to the teacher’s lounge while we spitball some food ideas".

You’ll admit, this is the last thing you expected. Despite the most recent do-over you and Negan have been navigating, you hadn’t pegged him as the type for strolls together or gifts.

Yet here he is, holding out the bag like it's the most natural thing in the world. Hesitantly, you approach, eyeing the gift as if it might be a bear trap in disguise.

Slowly, you reach out and take it, half-expecting something ridiculous inside. Negan just grins, watching you closely but giving you space to discover the surprise for yourself.

Sticking your hand in, you’re met with something soft, yet firm and slightly moist. You pull it out, raising an eyebrow as the familiar shape comes into view. 

"Because you ate my muffin," you recall, nodding at the blueberry muffin in your hand. The memory of that little stolen snack clicks into place and you can’t help the smile on your face.

"Jesus, sweetheart, maybe phrase it a little better," Negan says with a mock gasp, glancing around to make sure no one’s in earshot "and people say I have a filthy mouth”. He shakes his head, putting on an exaggerated look of disbelief.

“Oh stop it,” you nudge him as you take a bite of the muffin, savoring it with a long hum “ mmmm, thanks”.

Negan nods and you both begin to walk down the corridor and towards the teacher’s lounge. You know you should wait until you get there to eat the muffin but what can you say, it’s been a while since someone got you something nice. 

Swallowing your bite, you ask “Has the spirit of Christmas finally possessed you?”.

“Me?” Negan furrows his eyebrows at the accusation “Course not, I’m still being all grinchy”.

You can tell you’re coming up on the cafeteria because of the rapidly growing noise. Trays clatter, students laugh or yell at one another and the smell is surprisingly appealing. Although you’ve never had the cafeteria food here, it doesn’t look like the slop you’d see in movies or as if the food’s been sitting there for months. 

“I don’t know,” you reply to Negan, having to raise your voice so he’ll hear you over the noise “you seem pretty jolly today for a grinch”.

Negan leans back and rolls his eyes dramatically “Doll, if you keep making these baseless accusations, I’ll make sure the only food at the staff party are muffins”.

You shrug, not minding that threat “Don’t threaten me with a good time”. 

Negan smirks, about to turn that into some sort of innuendo when he sees him down the corridor. A grunt leaves Negan, his eyes looking past you and to the rat that got promoted to human. A somehow nervous disposition despite being drunk with power. Beady eyes. Thinning hair. Perpetual frown.

Gregory.

Before Negan can drag you both to the nearest supply closet—to avoid Gregory, no other reason why he’d like you so close and pressed against him— you’re both spotted.

“Ah! Just the two I was looking for,” Gregory catches your attention and you turn to see the dementor that drained the color from Negan’s face “well, one of you at least”.

He wags his finger, pointing from you to Negan “Michonne told me at least one of you is still doing the staff party, correct?”.

“Uh, we both are,” your best fake smile comes out. As much as you don’t want to be polite, Gregory’s higher management. 

Negan, surprisingly wise enough to know when to keep quiet, falls back slightly, positioning himself a step behind you. You push aside the unsettling thought that you might be his sacrifice to your superior.

“That’s wonderful and did I just hear food?” Gregory asks, stroking his chin as he tries to look more authoritative “what’s on the menu for the party?”.

“Well, uh— we were thinking some casual finger food like muffins and maybe pretzels or chips… and… um,” you scramble trying to think of easy to get foods that are also festive “…mixed nuts?”.

The look of Gregory’s face says it all. Horror. 

“Mixed nuts and pretzels? Chips? I mean,” he scoffs, throwing his hands up helplessly “this isn’t feeding time at the petting zoo! It’s all so… pedestrian”.

“We could do hot food too!” You blurt, your gut already twisting at Gregory’s criticisms. 

“And have you two prepare it?” He asks it as if the question is obviously rhetorical. 

Tilting his head to the side as he looks to Negan, Gregory asks “And Negan, when was the last time you washed your hands?”.

Dammit, you don’t need an all out war between the only other person helping you plan this party and your higher up. 

More trays clatter in the mess hall. Cutlery clangs together. Workers shout at students to stop playing around and keep the line moving in an orderly fashion.

“We can ask the cafeteria staff!” you suggest, eager to wrap up this conversation quickly.

Negan nudges your back, but your focus is on the skeptical look Gregory is giving you. “And we can make sure they know they’re not paid overtime for this,” you add with a resigned sigh.

Finally, a smile forms on Gregory’s face.

You get another poke in the back.

“Great! I know you would work something out!” He clasps his hands together “good luck with that, can’t wait for the party!”. With a satisfied nod, Gregory turns and walks off.

You take another bite of muffin to console yourself.  

You get another poke although this time it’s more of a jab to your side. “Mmh!” You argue, mouth full of muffin. 

“Oh now you feel the pokes! Really?!” For good measure, Negan pokes you again, aiming for the ribs this time.

“Stop! What do you want?” you grumble, still chewing.

“I can’t ask the cafeteria staff to make the fuckin’ party food!” Negan lowers his voice, as if there’s a chance the workers could hear him from the other bustling room.

“Why not? They’re so nice,” you shrug ”besides, they’ll understand if we mention Gregory’s shit. And the head cook, Sherry, was super sweet to me when I first joined the group chat”.

Negan just stares, a rare look of panic in his eyes “Why do you think, I can’t ask Sherry to make us food for our fuckin’ party”.

… oh.

“Is there any woman on staff you haven’t slept with?” you ask out of sheer frustration and just a sprinkle of sarcasm.

“Shockingly yes, I mean Tara’s a lesbian, Sasha and Rosita won’t touch me with a barge pole–“ you slap his arm before he can continue.

“Well, consider next lunch your time to grovel to Sherry,” you reply “I’m not asking by myself when we’re both planning the party and you’ve already screwed her over”.

“Not screwed her over, just screwed her” Negan corrects you.

He gets another slap to the arm for that one. “Can you not?” you mutter, shaking your head.

Carl and Enid stop in their tracks when they witness the slap, ducking behind the cafeteria door but still sneaking glances.  

“Does that mean they’ve broken up already?” she whispers to Carl.

“Next lunch. You and me. Cafeteria. Sherry,” you say, this time deliberately adopting your teacher voice.

Negan rolls his eyes but finally relents. The school bell rings, and a wave of noise erupts as students scramble to leave their cafeteria tables. 

“Fine,” he grumbles, mimicking your teacher voice as he looks down at the half eaten muffin “but you better eat that muffin before I eat it— again! ”.

With that, he turns and marches off back to the sports hall. Carl and Enid look at each other in shock. “Eat her muffin? Again? What?” Enid tries not to gag at the thoughts of two teachers going at it.

“Does that mean what I think it means?“ Carl shakes his head, trying to clear the thoughts away “Ok, maybe they are actually together”.

You huff, watching Negan retreat before doing the same. Stuffing the rest of the muffin into your mouth, you go back down to your classroom and prepare for what’s to come.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

It’s been five minutes since the bell for lunch rang through the school. You stand at the spot you last saw him, waiting in the corridor outside the cafeteria.  

Checking the time on your phone, you just decide to give Negan another two minutes to show up when he rounds the corner and approaches with a dramatic pout.  

You flash him a broad smile “Thought you’d be a no-show”.

“Yeah, well, I’ve already abandoned ya once,” Negan mutters, edging toward the cafeteria doors and peering in at the chaos of kids “but fuck, if there is a God, I wouldn’t mind getting struck down right about now.”

You tap his foot with your own. “You’re gonna have to talk to her at some point,” you say “what else do you expect when you work in the same building?”.

Negan shrugs, looking unbothered. 

“Well, I’ve managed to avoid Amber… Tanya… Frankie…” he trails off “Hell, I even manage to avoid this one real freaky chick at the parent-teacher meetings”.

“At the—” Your jaw drops, struggling to decide whether to ask about the ‘freaky’ part or the fact that he’s even banged a parent “You— I… I have no words”. 

Grabbing his hand, you practically drag Negan into the cafeteria. Skipping the line of kids, you pull him to the side by the serving line. Sherry doesn’t notice either of you, too focused on taking out trays of chicken nuggets and replenishing the stack of juice boxes.

Across the sea of students, Enid tugs at Carl’s arm “Oh my god are they holding hands! In public!”.

Ron shrugs smugly, taking a bite of his sandwich. “Told you they’re together. I’ve got a knack for knowing when people are gonna hook up,” he says, glancing between Enid and Carl “well, most of the time”.

They subtly try to watch you both at the other side of the room, some of them letting out disappointed huffs when you drop his hand.

Negan lets out a long sigh, swaying slightly on his feet. The longer Sherry doesn’t notice you both, the further back he leans, as if trying to create some kind of invisible distance without actually moving.  

“I’m going to have to turn on the charm, aren’t I?” he mutters to himself, taking a deep breath before leaning casually on the counter.

“Or you could just be normal?” You propose but it’s too late. He’s already turned on the Negan swagger that somehow gets him women.

“Sherry,” he calls out “hey there, sweet thing”.

Sherry, in the middle of doing her job, shoots a steely glare in your direction. You don’t take it personally.

After a quick internal debate, she approaches. You stay quiet, taking Negan’s approach during your earlier encounter with Gregory. Anyways, it’s about time you see that oh so charming, smooth talking side of him.

“Long time, no see!” Negan flashes her a grin when Sherry hurries over “So, what do you say we get that culinary magic of yours flowing for the party on Friday?”. 

Maybe you’re too presumptuous but for some reason, you assumed smooth talking involved some actual smooth talking. Still, you stay silent, hoping Negan’s straight to the point method works.

Putting on a pitiful expression, Negan continues, not giving Sherry the time to even respond “And hey, I know I was a little… absent… after y’know, but I’m here now and would really appreciate the favor. Oh! And how’s about some food for thought, huh?”. 

Negan chuckles as he points at a chicken tender he wants to steal.  

Sherry studies him with a mixture of shock and confusion. “You- you come to me now? Asking for favors?” she guffaws “After everything?”.

She pauses, eyeing him warily before adding “You think just because you show up and act like nothing happened, I’m gonna jump to help you? You don’t get to just play the ‘favor’ card after all that’s happened”.

You gulp, feeling like you’ve walked straight into a soap opera. Negan gives a mock serious expression

“Alright, I get it. I ghosted you. Bad move. Real bad,” he haphazardly admits “But how ‘bout we call this a redemption arc? You do us a solid and I’ll do you a solid and stay out of your way, at the party and for the rest of our lives!”.

Sherry rolls her eyes, defensively crossing her arms “You stay out of my way anyway, asshole”.

Piping up, you try the sweet approach “Sherry, I get it, Negan’s a major asshole and hard to work with but you’ll be doing us all a massive favor here, not just him”.

She doesn’t look convinced, her hardened gaze never leaving Negan. 

“And it’s not like we’re expecting you to work during the actual party,” you try to ease the tension “we can heat it up on the night, if you could just… maybe make some extra mashed potatoes and chilli on Friday?”.

Tearing her eyes off of Negan, Sherry gives you a sympathetic look when she realizes you’re the new English teacher. 

“A word of warning, stay away from this jerk and do not trust him” she doesn’t even hide how she points at Negan, making him glance around the packed busy and mutter a quick “Jesus Christ”.

You nod, trying to show her a genuine connection and Sherry sighs. “I suppose I could do it,” she starts “but I want something out of this too”.

“I swear to fuck if you want to pimp me o—“ Sherry puts up her hand, silencing Negan before he can finish that sentence.

With her steely look fading, Sherry smirks. She nods towards Negan “I want to know what message you deleted in the group chat last night and I want an I-owe-you that I can cash in whenever wherever”.

Negan groans, his neck going slack as he looks up at the ceiling “Give me fucking patience…”.

You nod “That could be done. Negan?”.

He huffs, trying to buy time. “I just made a grammar error, that was all” he lies, and not convincingly.

“Bullshit” Sherry immediately calls his bluff.

“Well then fuck off, I’m not telling you!” He gets defensive, the words meaning nothing to him but everything to the already pissed off fling. 

“Ok, ok, he didn’t mean that,” you try to calm the situation, putting your hand on Negan’s chest to make him back away from the counter. The last thing you wanted was for Sherry to decide to throw a tater tot at him. 

“Can you give us a minute? Just one sec,” you give Sherry a quick smile as you lead Negan away and to a free table. You sit him down, his lanky legs making him look like a giant in a toddlers chair. 

Despite being in a room full of students, he doesn’t feel the need to put up a professional, mature mantle and instead, Negan sulks.

You sit across from him. “Negan,” you coax “can’t you just give her the actual answer? Or you don’t even have to mention the green fursuit thing! Just make up something embarrassing and she’ll believe it”.

Negan shakes his head, looking down at the table. “Nah, she’ll fuckin’ know. She wants something real embarrassing,” he grumbles “some humiliation ritual shit”.

He runs a hand down his face. “This sucks” he says plainly. 

 You give a solemn look before shrugging “But think of all the pizza and sloppy Joe’s we can have at the party”.

That makes him smile, a humorous look on his face as he agrees “All of this for some fuckin’ sloppy joes… alright, you stay here, I know why to say”.

You watch a dejected Negan go back up to the counter and wait for Sherry’s attention. She gives him a look you can’t read, saying things you can’t hear with the noise of the cafeteria.

Negan has his back facing you and with some dismissive hand gestures, you watch Sherry nod, somehow buying whatever shit he’s selling. 

She replies to him, a few more words get exchanged before Sherry holds out her hand and they shake. 

Success!

Glancing back at you, Negan gestures for you to follow him back out of the cafeteria. You don’t blame him for wanting to leave so fast, knowing he’ll see this as a win for Sherry. 

“You ok?” you keep your voice soft when you catch up with him in the corridor.

“Yeah it’s whatever,” he dismisses “She said she’ll do the catering so it has all worked out”.

”Great, now we’re serving up cafeteria food,” you’re unsure if this is a win or not “I’m sure that’s what Gregory had in mind”.

“Gregory can choke on a hotdog for all I care,” Negan mutters, clearly not happy “he wanted hot food and he got it, so he better show some fucking appreciation for once”.  

He’s still sulking, his mind elsewhere and presumably still with Sherry in one sense or another.

“If you want, I’ll take care of the liquor” you offer, knowing Negan’s done a lot for the day.

He smirks, though it doesn’t reach his eyes “Nah, that’s the fun part. You free after school?”.

“I am not letting you abandon me somewhere again!” You warn.

He rolls his eyes as playfully as he can, despite the lull in his mood. “Alright how’s about we drive separately? Is that enough to coax you out?”.

You pretend to think about it, humming as you tilt your head from side to side. “I guess so,” you agree just as the lunch bell rings out again. Darn. “Text me a place to meet?” You suggest.

“Texting during class?” Negan raises his eyebrows with faux surprise “Naughty!”.

And with that you reluctantly part ways, even if only for the remainder of the school day.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

Maybe Negan is a bad influence. Much to your dismay, you did spend an excessive amount of your classes texting with him, trying to be as subtle as possible as you would pull out your phone and quickly arrange a time to meet after school. 

In the end, you agreed to meet up in the middle of town, knowing you’d have a few smaller grocery stores and the liquor store to choose your alcohol from. 

Negan mentioned that he’ll probably get there a half hour after school ends, knowing some of the sporty kids would pester him for some advice on how to keep training during the holidays. 

You were fine with that. If anything, you hoped that would be enough time for you to get there and buy all that you’ll need for the party. Then when Negan eventually showed, you could both relax and just go for a coffee.

Not that you’d willingly go for a coffee with Negan.

Ok, yes, you would but not like that . 

You’ve finally gotten to the point of being friends with Negan and that’s good enough for you. In fact, it’s better than you ever expected!

Despite the way he looks at you, the smirk that’s never far from his lips, the warmth in those big hazel eyes… you’re just friends! Swear! You remind yourself over and over again that the teasing and the constant flirting is just Negan being Negan. 

Nothing more.

Yeah, he’d probably go for a round or two if you made your interest known but then you’d be like Sherry: cast aside and avoided.

He’s the kind of guy who flirts to pass the time, who needs to make people laugh to feel alive. You know better than to read into it, even if part of you wonders what it would be like if things were different. But, it doesn’t matter.  

You’re friends. That’s all you are, and that’s enough… right? Just friends. You repeat it like a mantra, trying to convince yourself to believe it as you park your car along the main street.

Your hometown never put that much effort into decorating for the holidays. They might have a few lights strung up and a decades old plastic tree that they take out every year but it’s nothing compared to this.  

The town centre is alive with holiday spirit, transformed into a winter wonderland that glows with festive charm. Bright, twinkling lights drape across every building, casting a golden hue over the street. It feels like you’ve stepped straight into a Hallmark movie. 

Skaters glide and twirl gracefully, their laughter blending with the soft hum of holiday music playing from hidden speakers. Stalls line the square, offering everything from hot chocolate and roasted chestnuts to hand-crafted ornaments and scarves. 

Bundling up in your Winter coat, you decide you may as well go for a walk around while waiting for Negan, not knowing when he’ll turn up.  

You can’t help but smile as you watch skaters spin and laugh, their cheeks a rosy red from the cold. Families huddle together, sipping hot drinks while couples share quiet moments beneath the twinkling lights.

Everything about this place feels perfect, too perfect. The decorations are just right, the air crisp and clean, and the joy in the crowd is infectious. 

You almost feel out of place, like you’re the only one who doesn’t quite belong in this picturesque scene. Everyone else has someone, whether that be a partner, a parent with them or a kid of their own. You’re just with… you .

You don’t know how much time you take just walking around. Before you even enter a shop, Negan texts you. You’re leaning against the barrier to the ice skating rink when your phone ping.

Negan: you gonna get in?

You pause and look up, turning on your heels until… there he is, tucking his phone away again. Donned in a beanie and big coat, Negan looks like he’s going incognito.

“You a skater?” he asks, walking up to join you.

With a soft shake of your head, you go back to leaning against the barrier. “Nah, I think I tried it once or twice when I was a kid,” you reply “but I was always too scared I’d fall”.

Negan scoffs, mimicking your actions as he watches kids, couples and even the elderly glide across the ice effortlessly.

After a beat of silence, he asks “You want to give it a try?”.

“And have you laugh at me when I fall?” you question “I don’t think so”.

He chuckles as if you just caught on to his joke “I wouldn’t let you fall, promise”.

“As if I believe that,” you snort, taking a step back from the barrier. 

Negan scoffs before cooing “I said I’d promise! You wouldn’t fall once, I’d rather get frostbite on my ass than let the princess slip”. 

You huff in an act of annoyance, walking along the street and towards the liquor store. It surprisingly blends into the glow of the area, the neon open sign not looking out of the normal with the festive lighting that surrounds it. 

Your trip to the liquor store goes exactly how you expect. The door chimes as you both step inside and Negan confidently leads you straight over to the hard stuff. Whiskey, vodka, rum, gin, tequila. He loads bottles of it into your arms, humming to himself as he debates another bottle of tequila. 

“Shouldn’t we get something that isn’t so strong?” you suggest, balancing the bottles as you cradle them. 

Negan glances over the selection, taking his time to inspect the different wines. “Hm, yeah this ain’t exactly my specialty,” he admits, picking up a random bottle “usually I use the stuff for cooking and that’s it”.

Raising an eyebrow, you question “You cook with wine?”.

“Yeah,” he shrugs “for marinating, braising, sauces… stupid shit like that”.

“Stupid shit?!” You let out a shocked laugh “That’s not stupid, I had no idea I was dealing with a proper chef”.

Negan rolls his eyes, picking up a variety of red and white wines “Darlin’, I doubt that’s proper chef shit”.

Happy with his choices, Negan leads you to the register and you toddle after him, too busy making sure you don’t drop a bottle or bump into a shelf to protest with his choices.

“There we go,” Negan takes the bottles from you, loading them up for the cashier to scan “that should be enough to get everybody wasted”.

“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” You joke “I don’t think anyone wants to deal with a drunk Gregory for the night”.

Negan chuckles at the idea. “Yeah, well hopefully a few others will get drunk enough to give him a piece of their minds” he throws a few bills on the counter. The cashier begins counting, keeping quiet.

You give him a skeptical look. “You’re paying?” you ask just to confirm. 

Negan nods smugly “I ran into Michonne when I was leaving today, she said as long as we keep the receipts, we’ll get reimbursed in the New Year”.

Picking up on his queue, the cashier hands him the receipt and you both leave, bottles clinking as you balance your heap of liquor.

“We can load them into the back of my car,” you offer, avoiding the judging looks of ongoers as they watch the two of your carry enough alcohol to poison an elephant “and if you want, I’ll pick up some mixers tomorrow. I’ll have to go out and get some more things for Christmas anyways”.

“Works for me,” he agrees, letting out a small giggle when you struggle to hold so much while simultaneously trying to open your car door. Managing to open the back door, you gently place the bottles on the seat before letting Negan do the same. 

You glance over at the ice skating rink one last time, watching the graceful glides and the occasional wobbly stumble.

”Did you mean it?” the words leave your mouth before you even think it through, something that happens more than you’d like to admit.

“Huh?” Negan looks back to you once he closes the car door. Following your gaze, his eyes land on the rink.

“When you said you wouldn’t let me fall on the ice”.

Negan’s face grows more curious, his lips slightly puckered as his tongue moves around his mouth. Studying you for a moment, he slowly nods.

“Good,” you’re convinced and begin tugging him over, locking your car with a click of your key.

Negan laughs, letting you drag him. He doesn’t believe this, half waiting for you to drag him into one of the smaller shops and not to what he thinks you’re doing.

It happens in a flash, and that’s pretty fuckin’ fast for someone like Negan. In an instant, he’s telling you his shoe size and you’re renting out skates. Hell, he doesn’t even have the time to beat you to it and pay himself, or have the time to make an innuendo about his large shoe size!

You giggle to yourself, not quite sure where this impromptu boost of confidence has come from.

This is not your type of thing, both ice skating and last minute plans but here you are, shoving your feet into ice skates. 

The sharp blades of the ice skate make you gulp and about a thousand different ways this could go wrong pop into your head. But strangely enough, the man that was once the bane of your life manages to pull your mind away from the lingering bad thoughts. 

Negan smiles to himself as he stands and clanks along the ground, his tall stature balancing on just the thin blades of the ice skate. He struts around, looking like something straight out of a cartoon show before you both venture on to the rink.

You and Negan glide cautiously onto the ice, the cold air biting at your skin. “You make sure I don't fall on my ass, sweetheart, and I’ll make sure you stay standing too” he teases, his voice carrying a mischievous edge, but there’s something softer beneath it, something you don’t often hear.

You laugh, the sound bubbling up before you can stop it “Hey! That wasn’t the promise!”.

He grins, that signature smirk of his spreading across his face but there’s an almost shy glint in his eyes, the kind you’d never expect from a man as boisterous as him.

You try to steady yourself, the ice slick and unfamiliar beneath your feet. He’s not far behind you, his gaze fixed on you and trying to follow your movements. You feel the weight of his stare but it’s not as intimidating ( or annoying ) as you thought. It feels almost… protective? 

You glance over your shoulder and catch his eyes, which surprisingly aren’t ogling at your ass. His hands hover slightly in the air, like he’s ready to reach for you if you trip. For a second, you almost want to fall just so he’ll catch you.

“Good to know you don’t keep promises” you tease, your voice light despite the racing of your heart.

He laughs, a low chuckle that makes your stomach flutter and you’re suddenly very aware of the space between you. The icy air whips around you both, making everything feel sharper and more alive. 

“I’ll keep it,” he assures with a wink, but his gaze lingers just a little longer than it should “Promise I won’t let your ass hit the ice, scout’s honor”. He loosely gestures as if to cross his heart, keeping his arms out to balance himself.

You take a breath and push yourself forward. The world spins in a dizzying blur as you try to navigate the gliding motion. A rush of adrenaline surges up your legs, wobbling slightly as you sail across the ice. 

It feels like you’re going fast, as if you’re about to feel the wind blow through your hair due to the sheer speed you’re picking up. But then you look around and realise many skaters are overtaking you effortlessly.

Trying to propel yourself forward again, you go to push your foot off the ice when it happens. You falter, a slight sway quickly turning into a wobble and then—

Negan’s there, hands steadying you. Strong, confident but not without a touch of tenderness. His grip doesn’t last long, lingering long enough for you to regain your composure. Yet it’s enough to make your pulse quicken, enough to make you wonder what might happen if the distance between you was just a little smaller.

You meet his eyes again, a look of surprise on your face. 

“I can keep a promise” he simply shrugs as if that was nothing. Yet there’s no smugness or mocking tone that you normally associate with Negan. His playfulness is still there. With Negan, you don’t think that’s something that can ever go away, but it’s layered with something deeper.

Negan’s not watching your every move anymore. He’s watching you — clinging onto the way you make him feel like the world isn’t such a shitshow, not when you’re both here, side by side.

For once, this isn’t about trying to put another notch on his bedpost or figure out a way to have a quickie with you in his truck. Hell, he’s not even concerned with annoying you anymore.

You smile to yourself and take another step forward, hesitantly sliding your hand into his. Not romantically , of course… you’re just scared you might lose your balance.

That’s all. 

Negan pushes off of the ice cautiously, not going too fast as you try to copy his movements. Within a few minutes, you both find your rhythm and manage to do a lap of the rink, going slower than most but doing it nonetheless. The hardest part is turning, both of you acting as if you’re trying to steer a cruise liner as you try to get your feet to work and turn without a hitch.

“See, this ain’t so bad,” he quips, swaying slighting but staying on his feet.

“Suuuuure,” you laugh, watching as Negan looks down and concentrates on his footing. His eyebrows scrunch together, tongue poking out from determination as he straightens himself up again. 

Your eyes linger on his face, wondering if he always pulls that face when he concentrates.

“I’m surprised you’re not all talk” you comment, feeling his hand give yours a reassuring squeeze.

“Oh my fucking shit, is that your attempt of a compliment?” He laughs, flashing you a wide grin that almost borders on being cheesy. 

“WATCH OUT!!”.

Negan grip on your hand immediately tenses, getting ready to drag you away from danger but it’s not you who’s at risk. Seemingly out of nowhere, a man skates through the crowd, arms flailing as he tries to turn… or brake… or maybe both? It’s hard to tell but the look of panic across his face tells you something is wrong.

Negan veers to the side, just enough for the man to skate by and clip his shoulder against Negan’s. That touch is all it takes for Negan to lose balance, letting out a string of curses as he wobbles, tilting back and forth before finally hitting the ice. 

“Shit!” He grunts, awkwardly falling in his ass and accidentally yanking you down with him (thanks to your completely platonic and no underlying feelings hand holding).

The second he goes down, there’s no way you can pull back or try to root your feet into the ice to save yourself. With a squeak, you go down with him, landing with a loud ‘umph!’. 

Negan gets the brunt of the fall and then the brunt of you falling on to him, your head landing on his chest, which is surprisingly comfortable for you.

He lets out a long groan “You alright?”.

“Uh huh,” you feel stiff as you get up, kneeling on the ice as you remove yourself from Negan “and you?”.

“I’ll be fine,” he slowly gets up with a series of grunts “main thing is that ass of yours didn’t touch the ice, did it?”.

In spite of the situation, you laugh “Considering I landed on you, no, it didn’t”.

With the both of you hobbling to the rinks barrier like two 90 year olds, a wry grin tugs at his lips “That enough torture for you for one day?”.

He takes a deep breath, trying to mask the wince but the fall really did a number on him. You’re pretty sure he didn’t expect ice skating to be quite so brutal. The way he hit the ground, you’re surprised he didn’t crack his head open. 

“Come on, tough guy,” you tease lightly, your hand on his back as you guide him out of the rink and toward a nearby bench “let’s get you off your feet before I gotta drive you to the hospital”.

He shoots you a playful glare, but there’s no fire in it, just exhaustion. You help him settle carefully, and for a moment, you stand back and just watch him, checking for any serious injuries. 

“I ain’t broken,” Negan scoffs, trying to be serious despite the soft smile on his face “don’t worry about me”.

With a sigh, you gesture to his skates. “Take ‘em off and I’ll go return them,” you say “I think it’s best if you stay off your feed for a little while”.

As much as Negan wants to protest or do it himself, he complies, knowing his body needs to rest.

Once you’ve taken care of the skates, you wander over to one of the small stalls set up for the festive season, eyes scanning the counter until you spot some hot chocolate. 

Perfect.

When you return to the bench, Negan’s still sitting there, leaning back and looking at the sky with a half-smile. You hand him one him a takeaway cup, the warmth of the cup being an immediate relief in his hands.

“Here,” you say, settling down beside him “something to ease the pain.”

He takes the drink, eyeing you with a sarcastic smirk “You trying to butter me up so I don’t make fun of you for your ice skating skills?”.

You shake your head “Nah, just making sure you don’t turn into a grumpy old man”.

Negan raises his cup in mock cheers. “To not being a grumpy old man,” he says, then takes a sip and pauses “Hot Chocolate? Fuck, I thought you were after getting me a coffee”.

You laugh at that, taking a sip from your own before shrugging “Coffee isn’t a Christmas drink, it had to be some hot chocolate!”.

He rolls his eyes, taking another sip “You didn’t have to get me anything, y’know”.

“I know,” you reply, watching people whizz around the rink at speeds you’d be terrified to ice skate at “I wanted to, though”.

You let a silence stretch between you, giving him time to sip and adjust to the warmth. He’s still got that wall of snark up, but it’s more of a defense than a challenge.  

After a few moments, Negan clears his throat, setting the cup down between his hands and leaning back a bit more, his eyes drifting toward the rink. The sound of other skaters is distant now, a low hum in the background. His usual bravado seems thinner tonight, a more relaxed and innocent fun side of Negan coming out.

“I gotta say, this is a nice change,” he looks over at you, his smirk still there but lacking its usual sharpness “I never really do dates like this anymore, just the freaky deaky part”.

Maybe you said innocent fun too soon.

You scrunch up your face at the ‘freaky deaky’ before correcting “Dates like this? Negan, this isn’t a date”.

“Course it is” the thing with Negan is that he’s always been quick with the jokes but tonight, there’s a rare sense of truthfulness, as if he believes what he’s saying. 

You huff out a laugh, having another sip of your drink “No, it isn’t”.

Raising a hand, Negan starts to list out “Done something fun together, we’ve done a whole lotta touching— something you initiated most of, you took me ice skating and now we’re drinking hot fuckin’ cocoa together”.

You scoff, unsure how to come back from a list like that. Negan keeps going, “Oh and to make it better, since you’ve instigated most of this, you’ve taken me out on a date! Who would’ve thought?”.

“Not a date,” you keep to your alibi. He nods, taking in your response. 

“I guess that’s a good point, it ain’t a date until you seal the deal later” he sends a wink your way.

That earns him a playful shove “Ew, Negan! No!”. He laughs, catching your smile as he gives you one of his own. 

“I ain’t asking you to get down on your knees, doll, I’m just saying most dates end in a kiss at least” he knew that would get you reeling. And it does, making you do a fake gag as you laugh out of pure shock. 

You shake your head, keeping your tone light “You’re unbelievable!”.

“Guess you’re not wrong,” he admits, the walls slowly starting to lower “but you can’t blame a guy for trying”.

Negan is used to fighting it but tonight, just for a little while, he’s letting down his guard. And for once, it feels like maybe you’ve both found something real.

There’s an easy atmosphere between you, the kind that comes when two people are just content to be in each other’s company. Every now and then, Negan shoots you a sidelong glance, making little comments for you to laugh at or nudge his shoulder in response.  

The banter flows freely; light teasing, a few shared stories, and just enough sarcasm to keep it interesting. Although, it’s the kind of conversation where the words aren’t as important as the feeling of ease between you. 

For once, the world feels distant, the noise of it all fading away in the warmth of the moment. It’s nice. And you realize, despite everything you’ve both been through, this is something you’d been craving.  

Simple, peaceful, and without any pressure. Just two people, sipping hot chocolate, and sharing the kind of quiet conversation that feels like it could go on forever.

When your cups are drained and neither of you can find another excuse to stay, you begrudgingly get up and let Negan walk you over to your car. 

“So, what did you tell Sherry today? Any idea what kinda I-owe-you she wants?” you interrogate, looking up just in time to see him wince at the questions “I doubt you told her the truth”.

Negan hums, letting his sarcasm flow freely  “Yeah, only you know about my grinch fur suit and as for the favor shit, I really have no idea”.

“So if you didn’t mention the fur suit, what did you say?” you press, waiting as patiently as you can.

He sighs and you can see he’s debating whether or not to tell you. Keeping your gaze on him, Negan watches the Christmas lights. “I told her a half-truth,” he reveals slowly “told her I meant to send it to someone else, not to the group chat”.

His gaze flickers to you for a moment, slyly trying to gauge your interest.

“And?”.

Negan tries not to make a big deal of it “And I told her it wasn’t a text, hence the delete… I said it was a picture”.

You gasp “A dick pic!”.

He nods, although you don’t understand why he’d be so hesitant about telling you his lie, especially if his dick is involved. Most of the time, the man doesn’t even need an excuse to talk about all things ‘freaky deaky’ .

“What’s the catch?” You ask when you get to your car, digging the keys out of your bag. Negan bounces on his heels, looking anywhere but you. 

“No catch,” he shows you his awful poker face, yet again. You wait it out, knowing Negan won’t be able to keep his mouth shut for long.

…

…

…

“I told her it was meant for you,” he blabs. Wow, three seconds, you wonder if that’s a new personal record for him. You also wonder if this revelation means you can punch him in the face.

“What??!” You practically bark out the word, jaw slack and eyes wide open “Negan, there’s no way!”.

“I thought that seemed the most plausible!” He poorly defends “besides, we’re together a lot so it kinda made sense for me to be sending it to you”.

“Negan,” you groan, much to his satisfaction. 

He leans against your car as you get in, leaving the door open so you can hear his piss poor excuses. 

“If anything, think of it as a favor,” he can’t even hide his smirk and try to seem sincere “now you won’t have that janitor or Alden, Eugene, fuck or even Gregory trying to get in your pants”.

You roll your eyes and bite back “Yeah, cause that was such a big issue before”.

Negan grabs the door for you, ready to shut it before he adds “I don’t think you realize how many pants tightened when you waltzed into the school, doll”.

He misses your disgusted shudder and declaration of “ew” as he shuts the car door for you and takes a couple of steps back.  

Starting up your car, you try to convince yourself Negan is bullshiting. For some reason, thinking that you turn on Gregory is disturbing— who would’ve guessed that??

“You want a goodnight text later?” Negan calls out with a wink, not needing to gesture to his crotch for you to get what he means. 

You don’t bother rolling down the window to reply, letting your actions speak louder than words. Well, to be more specific you let your middle finger do the talking. 

Negan lets out a loud laugh, giving you a wave as you drive off. Despite the gesture, you still get that goodnight text later in the evening. But thankfully, it wasn’t a picture and instead it read…

Negan: Night sweetheart, thanks for the date tonight ;) I’ll have to take you out next time 

[paintthetownblack]

That Night II

Eric Northman x reader

Part I

Later That Night, Eric dresses his new human up for a night at Fangtasia.

-

"Wait." My voice cracked, but I got a hold of his hand. The notion of my being able to keep him against his will was ridiculous, but I acted instinctively. "Can't we talk for a second?"

"No, we're late." He took my wrist and made to leave, but turned around one last time. "I will heal those for you later, if you want, but, for tonight, I will ask you to keep them visible." He was referring to the bite marks. I hadn't thought about them yet.

"Why?" He began to walk, and to pull me behind him.

"What's with all these questions? You're a hostage, keep it down." His tone was rather amused.

"Am I a hostage? I thought I was yours, isn't that more like a pet?"

"A pet is a hostage. You wouldn't let a pomeranian wander off by itself any more than I would let you. I will tape your mouth shut, don't think I won't."

"But you did let me wander off. And I didn't run, doesn't that count for anything?"

Without turning to look at me, he pulled a roll of duck tape from his trousers' pocket, waved it up so I could see it. "I was watching you from afar the whole time."

Of course he was.

We went in through the back door. Fangtasia was already open, music was blasting, voices were rising to meet above the noise, and they were lacking a bar tender, that was me. Eric led me into a powder room, and ran paper napkins under the tap, to wipe the blood from my neck, which was already drying down. He was being careful not to press the wounds.

"How come the bleeding stopped so fast, you tapped straight into a vein-"

"Stop."

"Is it your saliva? Does it stop-" He very quickly tore off a piece of tape, pasted it to my mouth. I wanted to laugh. I tried to take the blob of napkins from his hand and do it myself, he swatted my hand away, mouthing "stop it", then shouted for Pam.

She came in with some shiny leather corset rolled up in her hand, a pair of heels, and very little patience. "What did you do to her? Wrestle her on the forest floor?"

"She sat on the ground on her own, I had no part in it."

Pam started to pull dried leaves from my hair. I tried to help, but she too slapped my hand away. So I let my arms hang and let them have their fun. Pam eventually pulled my shirt over my head, as Eric backed off and washed the rest of my blood off his hands. She went for the closure of my bra, and I turned away from her.

"My, a prude, how original. There's nothing I haven't seen yet in my line of work. Trust me." She put her hands on my waist, to turn me back around. I was looking at Eric, who was looming next to us, in the way of the lightfixture, casting a shadow over me. "Right. It's not my eyes you want to shield yourself from. Again. How original. Come." She took me into a stall. From there, she took the tape off, took my bra off, and set my hands against the wall. "Let me know if you can't breathe." Was all Pam said, before she fitted the corset around me, and started to lace it, then tighten it. And she tightened it. It was surreal to feel the ease with which she pulled the strings, the effortlessness of her wrist motions, and to then feel the results of that motion on my own ribcage, as it got squeezed in.

It was my only first hand experience with vampire strength, and it bewildered me so much, I forgot to advocate for breathing room. At the same time, I felt protected somehow, with Pam there, it was like I was tapping into an intention she had. Or maybe it was meant for Eric, and I was just in the way.

He had come over at some point, and was watching from behind Pam, admiring her handy work, which she completed very fast, after which she grabbed me, and spun me around to face him, as I was just trying to inhale. She presented me like a wrapped present, let go of me, and I stumbled in place a bit. "This is as good as I can do, so, as good as anyone can do." She opened the door narrowly "Hurry up. Plenty of time to make doe eyes at him in the morning." She slid out with grace, and closed the door. It felt inarticulate to describe her as modelesque, she wasn't ethereal exactly either, she had more edge than that, which was all the more mesmerizing.

"All I need from you now is to sit" he pushed my hair behind my shoulders "and not look afraid until closing. Think you can manage?" He took me by the arms and bent down to look me in the eyes.

I nodded.

"Speak, I need you to focus."

"Yes. I can manage." I whispered, not knowing why, I hadn't meant to.

He didn't seem convinced, he probably wished he could glamor me. I almost did too, it would have been easier. He kept looking into my eyes, calm and collected, and I became aware I had been holding my breath. I started to breathe regularly, and started to relax. It was him, who didn't need to breathe, who reminded me I did need it. He led me outside, after that, up on the stage, where he sat me down in a chair next to his, before he took his place.

I could almost see myself with my mind's eye. Corseted, and bitten, and sat next to my vampire overlord, it was a bit funny and a bit scary. What was he to me, in vampire terms? I didn't even know how to call this, what we had, what we were doing. That, in itself was proof I was in over my head.

That, and the awe he inspired in the clientele of Fangtasia. They not only accepted his presence, as a kind of authority, looking down at them, but they came specifically to bask in it. Exactly as I had done, choosing to work there, accepting to be his. Sitting next to him, and becoming aware of the effect he had on people, I felt my choice had been somehow out of my hands, as if he were hypnotic, irresistible. Was it a consoling thought? Not exactly, but it didn't pain me either. I had time to turn the matter over in my mind, over the course of the night.

At closing time, I felt like I had worked three consecutive shifts, sitting and being watched had been a lot harder than I had imagined.

"Here" Eric gingerly pressed his thumb into his fang, and rubbed the little droplet of blood that came from it, onto the bite marks on my neck. And I felt them close.

"What's the point? Won't you have to feed again, soon?" I think the exhaustion was getting to me, and I was getting short with him. I wanted to take it back, when I heard how it came out.

"You never reopen an old wound. It's bad practice. Now off to bed with you." He kissed my forehead, almost in passing, as he pawned me off to Pam. She took my wrist with just as little interest and led me to the basement.

"I thought I had evaded the dungeon."

"It's not a dungeon anymore. Look." A spark of sarcastic enthusiasm in her voice.

There was a fainting couch arranged for me. Ironic.

"Best Ginger could do on short notice. It'll suffice for today, I'm sure."

"Are you going to help me take this off?" I finished saying, as she closed and locked the door behind me. I was left to sleep with the corset on.

Even so, lying down felt revolutionary to me in that moment, as the tension in my shoulders began to release. I noted some scattered pieces of furniture around the former dungeon, a mirror, a side table, an area rug. Ginger had put in an effort, it was genuinely sweet. I fell asleep on that thought.

I jolted awake a few times throughout the day, until, finally, Pam was face to face with me, come to wake me up. I saw her turn for the door, so I hurried to stop her "Would you please help me take this off?"

She sighed and rolled her eyes, but came over anyway. She took me to the mirror, so I would see, and peeled the corset off of me. It stung, as it pulled away in places, after it had pushed into my skin for so long. I had red indentations from every seam, and every piece of boning. The pattern was so vivid, almost beautiful.

Behind me in the mirror, Pam put her hands on my waist. Again, that cold touch felt wonderful. "You have a nice waist." She said. "Back in my day, there was hardly a higher compliment you could pay a woman. Brutal times, really." She ran the backs of her hands across my ribs, and down my abdomen, then up again. "For all his faults, Eric wouldn't let a damn thing happen to you. That is, if you are who you say you are. When he takes ownership of someone, he means it. Count your blessings, most vampires would have just washed their hands of you. If you know what I mean... doc." She whispered into my ear. Was that her way of welcoming me into the family? If so, it was a warmer welcome than I'd expected from her.

"Did you leave me like this all day, because you wanted me to feel what it was like for you, back when you were human?" She seemed impressed, somewhat taken aback.

"What an intuition you have." She disappeared from behind me, I only heard the door.

Part III