#i didn't notice when i watched it back when it came out because it had been ages since i'd watched the show itself

[witchthewriter]

𝐁𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐲𝐥 𝐃𝐢𝐱𝐨𝐧 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

⤷ gender neutral, ambiguous race, and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!

a/n: I know I've written about Daryl x reader in a relationship, but I'm rewatching The Walking Dead and UGH I love him...

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ | ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ ᴵᴵ

ISTP

Hufflepuff

Chaotic Good

Taurus Sun, Scorpio Moon, Aquarius Rising

𝑺𝑭𝑾🌿

・The perfect example of your marriage is that scene from Yellowstone at the bar. Here's the link. Warnings: Violence :)

・Yes, so you and Daryl have a very close relationship - it has taken you a long time to get to this point.

・But marriage meant you two would be staying together for life. And Daryl knew that. No one was taking you away from him.

・You two met at the very beginning; in the camp with Lori, Carl, Carol, Dale, Andrea, Shane, Glenn etc.

・You abhorred Merle and gave him as much as you could - cussing him out, calling out his actions etc. You were always right but Merle was Merle.

・And you grouped Daryl with his brother; although he didn't say much.

・When Merle wasn't around, you actually got the time to see Daryl differently.

・He was really growing on you.

・You had no idea that he was wrestling with certain feelings as well.

・Your relationship was ... a slowburn to say the least. But you always looked out for each other. Made sure one another had enough food and water.

・There developed a constant between the two of you. Where one went, the other wasn't far behind. Especially when the group would split up

・You always found your way back to each other

・And yet, neither of you could see how much the other cared. Even though the whole group - even the new members - could see it.

・Though he comes off as rough and gruff to most, Daryl would have a soft spot for you. You’d be the only one who gets to see his gentler, more vulnerable side.

・

𝑺𝑶𝑴𝑬 𝑻𝑰𝑴𝑬 𝑳𝑨𝑻𝑬𝑹

・Daryl was anxious all day, you even saw his hands shake before he saw it and shoved them in his pockets.

・You were worried; he never kept anything from you. Not even when you were just best friends.

・So you went to Carol, she shrugged her shoulders and gave you that knowing look. It calmed your own nerves down, because when Daryl is anxious; you are tenfhold.

・That night you were getting ready for watch, but a knock came at the door.

・It was Michonne.

"Hey, you wanna come in? I'm gonna start my shift soon but I can make us something tea?"

"It's okay, and don't worry about your shift; I have something for you to do."

"Oh okay, sure."

・You followed Michonne past the gardens, the crops and up to the doors of Alexandria and out into the nearby forest.

"We ugh, made sure the area was clear. You don't need to worry about a thing."

・She gave you one of her knowing smiles and you knew something was up...it made you nervous.

・Once Michonne disappeared, you heard the crunching of leaves.

・Quickly you whipped out your knife and swiped as you turned, only to be met by a large hand grabbing your arm.

"Thought I taught ya better than tha'" Daryl said, letting go of your arm and giving you a smile

"You did. I knew it was you. Heavy boots were giving me a heads up."

・It was then that you noticed his appearance; washed, with a clean black button up shirt, and a fresh pair of jeans.

・You quirked an eyebrow.

"What is this Dixon?"

Hesitating, Daryl rubbed the back of his neck with his calloused hand, eyes darting briefly to the ground before meeting yours.

“Been thinkin’,” he started, shifting his weight between one leg to the other. “’Bout us… and all the shit we've gone through...”

You stepped closer to him. Closing the gap. And your heart started pumping a whole lot faster.

"-You know I ain’t good with words,” he muttered in a low voice. “Specially ain’t good at all this… romantic stuff. But you—you’re the best thing...that has ever happened to me. Hell, you're the only thing that makes sense in this goddamn world.”

・Your cheeks started to redden but you let him talk

From his pocket, Daryl pulled out something small and clenched in his hand, his fingers trembling just slightly.

You let out a soft, "oh." Thinking this day would never come.

When he opened his hand, there it was—a simple, gold ring.

“I know it ain’t much,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

"It's perfect," the tears had started to fall now. You didn't even notice you had begun to cry.

Daryl sniffed, not realising he had shed a few tears as well. "...I just want you to know… you’re my family now. Always have been.”

He held the ring out to you.

"I don't know how long we have in this world. But I know I wanna spend it with you."

There was a moment of silence. One you let hang in the air, not truly believing this was happening.

"So… what d’ya say?”

・The look on his face was pure and full of love.

"God I love you Daryl Dixon."

・Slipping the ring on your finger, you realised how comfortably it fit. You gave Daryl a knowing look and he gave you a sheepish one.

"...measured your finger when you were sleepin'...also had help from Carol..."

You couldn't help but laugh.

"You know I'm getting you one, right? I want everyone to know you're taken. That Daryl Dixon is mine."

"Wouldn't expect anything else."

・Then he kissed like it was your very first and last kiss.

The kiss was unlike anything you’d ever felt—raw, deep, and so full of emotion that it left you breathless. His lips claimed yours with an intense passion.

His hands trembled slightly, and cradled your face. Holding you as if you were the most precious thing in the world; well, to him you were.

Pulling apart, he rested his forget against your own and whispered:

“Ain’t never lettin’ you go.”

In that moment, the world outside could have crumbled, and it wouldn’t have mattered. All that existed was you and him.

𝑺𝑶𝑴𝑬 𝑻𝑰𝑴𝑬 𝑳𝑨𝑻𝑬𝑹

・Being married to Daryl Dixon meant having someone completely and utterly loyal to you.

・He calls you his family; and when he does so, you know it comes from a place of deep sincerity and respect.

・Instead of grand romantic displays, Daryl shows his love in quiet ways, like fixing something for you, preparing food, or just staying by your side during tough times.

・Daryl would be the ultimate protector, keeping you safe at all costs.

・You have your own place together. Not too far from everyone but secluded enough that you feel independent

・A common part of your nightly routine is cuddling up together on the couch and eventually falling asleep. (Daryl already having locked all the doors and has weapons around the house - just in case. He's not leaving anything to chance.)

・You've both shared everything you know about survival with one another.

・One of your ideas was to make a book about it. How to survive in this mess of a world; Daryl has fully encouraged it. He said it would come in handy for the next generations...

・Daryl thrives in the quiet moments of your marriage—sitting together by a fire, riding his motorcycle with you behind him, working on something side by side in comfortable silence.

・He also has a way of surprising you with such tenderness. E.g., brushing hair from your face or resting his forehead against yours in silent appreciation.  

𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔

"Look at that stupid dumbass man, ha! Oh shit that's my dumbass-" (Daryl)

Short & bossy x Tall & follows them around

"Think they'll try us?" x "Fuck I hope so."

"Why Are You Babying Me?" (Daryl) x "'Cause I Know You Like It" (You)  

𝑹𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒄 𝑷𝒍𝒐𝒕 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆

Forced Proximity

Strong Feelings (Thinking It's Hate - WRONG It's Love)

Enemies to Lovers  

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒆 𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈

Sex On Fire by Kings of Leon

Into My Arms by Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds

One More Hour by Tame Impala

[rafeysdeer]

valentine (aka sunshine reader and in love jason)

civil!reader x jason todd

prompt: valentine's day wasn't exactly jason's favorite holiday, he didn't really care about it, that's until his very excited girlfriend decided to surprise him.

a/n: okay, that's my second imagine, and i think it looks better, i was giggling and kicking while writing because these two are just soo cute, and the detail about the candle being syntactic is from a hc that jason just doesn't deal well with fire because of the explosion. english is not my first language, hope you guys like it 💗

It had been at least two weeks since you started leaving little hints about the big day that was coming, Valentine's Day. A cute romcom about the holiday, some cute couple videos, anything to try to get your boyfriend in the mood for the day, but he simply didn't seem to care about it.

You figured it was because he never really had the chance to properly celebrate, or anyone to spend the day with, before you, his only focus was the whole vigilante thing, he never would have dreamed that on a saturday night he would be curled up on the couch, eating ice cream and watching 'How to Lose a Guy in Ten Days', but he was, and with a pretty girl resting her head comfortably on his shoulder.

"Jay? Do you have patrol next friday? I thought we could go out for dinner or something?" the girl asks, lifting her head from his shoulder to look at him with her bright eyes and a little pout on her face.

"I think Steph can cover for me, it's just routine patrol, why? some special occasion?" he asks with a naughty smile on his face as he pulls her close to him again, leaving a kiss on her forehead.

"Nothing really special, I just miss you," she says and his laugh immediately fills the room, leaving that comfortable energy in the air. "Baby, you're literally wrapped around me, like, right now." He hears her snort and shove him playfully. "Doesn't stop me from missing you." The silly smile on his face took over as he stroked her hair. "You're just one of a kind, aren't you?"

Turns out that missing him was only half true, not that you didn't miss him, but coincidentally, next friday was also, Valentine's Day, and the closer the day got, the more anxious she looked like.

When friday finally came, she already had everything planned out to the last detail, she convinced him to finally go out with Tim (who had been trying to go out with him for weeks by now), and put her plan in action, she had all the classic stuff, flowers, chocolates, a beautiful dress, a set table on the roof, and the best part, a limited edition of Pride and Prejudice packaged methodically with a red bow, matching her dress.

You managed to convince Tim to join you on the plan, stalling Jason until 7 pm, when he came back to the apartment, just to find everything in complete darkness except for a trail of synthetic candles leading to the window.

"Honey? Are you ready yet?" No answer, the only option was to follow the candles to the window, where he found a table set on the roof, with a bouquet of red roses, synthetic candles lighting everything up, and his favorite girl with a smile from head to toe in a long red dress.

"Happy Valentine's Day, Jay," she says as she tries to strike a sensual pose, leaning on the table, but she's so excited she can't hold it in for long, running towards him and stealing a kiss. "So? Did you like it? I know you're not the biggest fan of Valentine's Day, but I just wanted you to be able to experience it and it's okay if you think it's too much, we can just go back inside and order pizza or something-" her nervous speech is interrupted by an anxious and completely passionate kiss.

"I loved it, sweetheart, I really did, how did you manage to do all this without me noticing?" she smiles playfully, shrugging her shoulders and pulling away from him slightly. "I may have had some bats helping me, and wait, there's more," she says excited, her smile as bright as the candles as she runs to the table, grabbing a package, her heels making a clicking sound along the way.

"I remember you told me you really wanted it and I just couldn't help it, I hope you like it" she hands him the book, wrapped with a big red bow that matched her dress, and the happiness on his face made all the effort she put on it worth it. "You're so fucking perfect, how did I end up with you, huh?" he asks, showering her with kisses, while the smile never leaves her face.

"I guess it was fate."

[spanktony]

chapter two. | WHERE DO YOU SLEEP? — YU JIMIN.

𝘀𝗵𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗲𝗻𝗲𝗱 𝘀𝘆𝗻𝗼𝗽𝘀𝗶𝘀 — y/n, a rising music producer, has built her dream career while keeping her personal life under wraps. karina, aespa’s leader, is preparing for a huge comeback with a mini album produced and written by the one and only y/n.

karina knows this is the opportunity of a lifetime, and she has to nail it. the only problem is, she may be a bit distracted by her producer.

something about their connection feels different—like maybe it's worth the risk of prying eyes. but how much will they give up to chase after what they want?

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 — small tension w a tad bit of angst.

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱𝘀 — 1.7k

𝗮����𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲— this is the last filler chap before things start heating up lol. if this does well quickly i'll drop the next chap immediately

taglist (open) — @sunshinez4 @gtfoiydlyj @yuyuy90

series masterlist. main masterlist. prev. next.

what? what was that noise?

it takes a second for you to register the sound, the left side of your cheek pressed against the soft white pillow on your bed as your eyes lazily blink open.

the buzzing continues.

you sigh, reaching a hand out from under the blanket, and pat the nightstand in search of the culprit. your fingers brush against the device, and you pull it towards you, holding it over your face and squinting.

the bright light momentarily blinds you, but when you open your eyes fully, you hit the green accept button and bring the phone to your ear, muttering a groggy hello.

"y/n," your manager's voice came through, far too cheerful for 1:07 a.m. "wake up! i got some big news!"

"obviously i'm up." you groan, rolling over onto your stomach and closing your eyes. sassiness wasn't really something you could control before your morning coffee. "what's the news?"

"karina wants you to help write and produce her solo," your manager blurts out, his excitement practically vibrating through the line. "she personally asked for you."

your eyes snap open. whatever sleep fog still remained vanishes in an instant. "wait, what?" you ask, sitting up so quickly the blanket falls off your shoulders.

"you heard me. sm called. she wasn't happy with the last version of her single and asked for your help. she loves working with you, y/n."

your heart races. karina. asking for you. specifically.

"but—but—" you sputter, still not quite believing his words. "no buts," your manager interrupts, clearly on a roll. "sm is flying you out first thing this morning."

you blink, your brain still playing catch-up. "wait, this morning? like, in a few hours?"

it was around 5 am when your plane finally took off, your headphones over your ears, and eyes covered by a frog sleeping mask that your mom got you for christmas.

the flight was long; it didn't help that you kept twisting and turning in your seat, trying to find a comfortable position to sleep in. only fully submitting to the exhaustion once your head fell against your manager's shoulder, who was fast asleep and didn't mind.

the plane touches down with a soft jolt, and you push yourself upright, immediately regretting it. the frog mask from your mom's christmas gift sits comically on top of your head, and a long yawn escapes your lips as you stretch your stiff muscles.

your manager, ever the morning person, doesn't seem to notice your exhaustion as he watches security gather your things and move toward the exit. "you ready?"

you nod, rubbing your eyes. the realization of being back in korea hasn't fully hit you yet, and the reason you're back again isn't for personal enjoyment this time but for business.

with...karina.

you hadn't seen her in weeks (because you were in la), hadn't even spoken to her since that one fateful day when she gave you her number after pulling slightly on your arm. so much time had passed since then, and now, suddenly, the dark-haired girl was the topic of all your thoughts.

your manager and the security guards walk a little ahead, talking amongst themselves as they lead the way toward the exit of the airport. then there's a shutter, a faint shutter sound. then another.

you glance up to see a few people hovering near the arrivals area, some pointing in your direction. the whispers turn into excited squeals as you walk by; phones start popping up like whack-a-moles, flashes of professional cameras going off.

and you instinctively cover your face with the frog-shaped sleep mask, which causes a couple of laughs to erupt from the growing crowd. but you quickly pull it back when you realize you can't see out of it.

you hear your manager talking with the security team, and suddenly there's an arm wrapped around your shoulders, leading you outside, the warm sunlight hitting your skin. you're ushered into a waiting car, and your manager sits next to you, giving you a reassuring smile before explaining the next steps of your busy schedule for the day.

"wait, what? lunch?" you ask, a bit incredulous, a bit shocked. your manager chuckles and nods, "they want to treat you to lunch as a thank you for your hard work."

huh.

you sink back into the plush seat, twisting your lips. "and, um, all the girls are gonna be there?"

"yep," he replies. "everyone, including their manager. so make sure to rest when you get to your hotel room, okay?"

your heartbeat picks up speed.

"okay."

you really love your hats.

karina thinks to herself, watching you from the corner of her eye as you sit across the table from her, laughing about something aeri said. instead, this time you're wearing a red balenciaga hat with your brown hood pulled up over it.

you seem so comfortable, laughing and chatting with the others. they each had mentioned having fun that day in the recording studio and how you're one of the easiest people they've ever worked with, along with the most patient and caring.

the way you interact with her members is just the sweetest thing; karina's heart clenches, a soft smile playing on her lips as she watches you. your eyes widen, then you quickly nod your head, agreeing with yizhuo on how mogu mogu is one of the best drinks you've ever tasted.

the truth is, karina did request that you help her with her solo. it seems bad; it really does. her asking you to take down her number was a bold move, only to never receive a text from you, then asking you to come all the way to seoul for her own benefit.

she did it, though.

it wasn't just so she could see you; she truly did want your help. although she was happy to see you again.

the days after the first meeting, karina would replay your conversation in her head.

"ah, i didn't think of that. let's do it again!"

"for sure!"

karina doesn't even understand why the interaction stuck with her; it wasn't anything special, just a quick moment. yet, it stayed. karina was never one to act like a lovesick fool, and she prided herself on her professionalism. she had always been able to keep her personal and work life separate, and she knew the importance of keeping her relationship status private.

she knows how that turns out; she's experienced it firsthand before.

but something about you made her throw all caution out the window. she wanted to know more. wanted to spend more time with you.

"unnie? are you feeling alright?" minjeong asks, a tiny smile cracking through her concern. karina blinks, realizing she had been lost in thought.

"i'm fine," she replies with a forced smile, taking a sip of her water.

"i saw fortune cookies near the register. anyone else want one?" you suddenly ask, a wide smile on your lips as you stand from your seat. karina's eyes linger a second too long.

you earn a few yeses from the group before making your way to the counter, and karina gets up to follow you, excusing herself.

you glance over your shoulder as karina steps beside you. swallowing a lump in your throat, you turn back to the counter, your hands digging in the bowl of fortune cookies, trying to ignore the discomfort of karina's sudden presence beside you.

"how have you been?" karina asks softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

"fine," you reply curtly, not looking at her. "busy." she pauses, and you can feel her studying you.

"you seem upset with me." you let out a small, humorless laugh, finally turning to meet her gaze.

"upset? no, i'm not upset. i just want to get this over with."

her brows furrow, her lips parting in confusion.

was she really trying to act like she had no idea why you were acting this way?

"get what over with?"

you stare at her. is she serious?

when it's clear that karina's waiting for an answer, you let out a frustrated sigh, stepping a little closer to her.

"this whole thing," you say, gesturing vaguely. "helping you with your solo. i don't even know why you asked me when you haven't bothered to talk to me since the day you gave me your number."

karina's expression shifts, her lips parting slightly as if to respond, but she doesn't. instead, she just stares at you, processing your words. "i didn't talk to you because you didn't text me," she says finally, her voice a little louder than before.

"what are you talking about? i did text you," you counter, swapping the handful of fortune cookies to your other hand before pulling out your phone. "i sent you a message right after you gave me your number. and then another. you never replied."

you open your messages, scrolling to the thread and showing her the unsent texts, demonstrating that you did, in fact, reach out to her. karina takes your phone, her brows furrowed as she inspects the screen.

her lips press into a thin line before she lets out a quiet laugh. "y/n," she says, holding the phone up. "you put a 3 instead of a 4 in my number."

"what?" you reply, confused. your mouth opens again, then closes. "no way," you mutter, snatching the phone back to confirm.

sure enough, there it is. the tiny typo that had caused months of silence. "oh my god."

karina bites her lip, her eyes shining with amusement. "i thought you ghosted me," she says, a giggle escaping her lips; she immediately brings her hand up to hide her huge smile, her shoulders shaking with laughter.

you groan, running a hand over the material of your hoodie. "i thought you were ignoring me!" you exclaim. you can't help the small laugh that slips past your lips.

you feel stupid, embarrassed. "i—this is so stupid. i feel so stupid."

"hey," she says gently, her smile softening. "it's not your fault. just... a miscommunication."

you exhale sharply, shaking your head. "yeah, but still. all this time, i thought—" you stop yourself, a sigh escaping your lips.

karina studies you, her gaze searching, curious.

"whatever. at least now i know."

karina tilts her head slightly, her eyes searching yours. "so... can we start over?" her question catches you off guard, and for a moment, you just stare at her.

then, slowly, you nod. "yeah. i guess we can."

she smiles, a genuine one that makes your heart flutter. "good."

series masterlist. main masterlist. prev. next.

[cryptid-killjoy]

"Cool, we're the pineapple under the sea crew if Iorek's in."

Normal chatter until Livvy came up. There was Figaro looking on the bright though.

"True. She's not dead. At least I'm not mourning her legendary pirate soul." He started to grin at the simple act of calling her a pirate recalling how she got her name to begin with. It was so silly. How could he not smile? Then it fell. "Pretty sure she wouldn't want to see me if we did bump into each other." Then it started to grow again. "But watching her attempt to ignore, act cool, or act audacious, whichever would be cute either way." He chuckled at the thought wondering where her instinct would take her.

As for missing the randomness of people in society for these two social creatures Will was nodding in agreement.

"Yeah, exactly. That's exactly what I mean. We need chile, Smalls. I'm more used to life being a chilli cook off actually. Not just Skyline versus Goldstar, but a god damn county fair cook off any day I feel like not being in the walls. You hit the nail on the head there. Some days I even want a Chilli Dog."

Nothing got his smile to spread more than the mention of Hansel. His time in the walls was special to him. But, oh the phrasing, in the closet. He laughed out loud. "Don't crush me with ideas, Smalls. Hansel's a handsome guy." Willem would hardly be ashamed to admit he got off with a couple girls more on the idea Hansel might have been peeking through the secret wall holes and believing he was giving him a show than the thought of the girls he was with. He never said these sorts of thoughts out loud though. Hansel was probably that best friend secret soft-crush he'd never move on because A. dude was straight, and B. he'd never want to hurt Funkytown if something went wrong even if he wasn't straight. He started to realize flirting with Diana too much started to be an issue. He never wanted to hurt a doll in any way. Either way he sure didn't mind giving Hansel a show and enjoyed it.

When they got out of the bus it was hard not to notice the amount of corpse debris strewn about. He flared his nostrils on first foul breath. He put the back of his wrist up to his nose. "You might want to wear that around your neck. Damn." His brows furrowed as his face cringed unable to stop inhaling in the pungent odor due to need for breathing. He'd smelled worse, especially in the beginning, but he still wasn't used to it no matter how long he'd lived in Feral.

All he could even think to say about Quarantine was, "That's Feral for ya." It was hardly shocking even if his nose still disliked it.

Another big smile spread when he saw Figaro with a rather large weapon. "Hell yeah. That's what I'm talking 'bout. Dear Davey Jones. You look so... kick ass."

The best part of Bastien and his hoarding and their strange nothing you need store is everything that's expensive is nothing but a treasure hunt away. This appealed to Willem's pirate looting side. Bastien had a tendency to hoard anything and everything and organized in a system of his own design. Willem was more specific with his looting. That said one can best bet Wild Will came home to Funkytown one day with the Resident Evil VRs for his horror movie watching household. He brought enough headsets for half the dolls to play and even modded them to fit smaller dolls heads. Of course, the Polly Pockets and action figure sized were still out of luck, but he tried to make them user friendly. It was one of his own favorite loots.

"Yes, and please." He was ready to go up and check out the dolls that were haunting his mind tonight. He knew he wasn't going to sleep well if he didn't go check on them. So, he led Figaro on up to Livvy's old apartment. Willem had over time even gotten the key to the front door to the place because he heard of Frank's people races for Feral. The reality was most didn't make it beyond the race and if they did, they weren't prepared for what Feral was. The zombies got them before they had a chance to settle in, but on the off chance someone was a tough cookie that survived the Feral trials he wanted to keep this one space safe. So, he'd be seen pulling out a key of his own and unlocking her apartment as if it was his own. It wasn't a difficult item to acquire when the Landlord's office was abandoned.

"This is it." He knew Figaro wanted to rummage her uncle's belongings, but he still walked back to Livvy's room first.

"Her room is back here."

The shelving unit he made that Livvy never saw would be there, installed, and covered neatly in her collection of dolls and figurines. They were all lined up with care and placed at aesthetically pleasing angles.

He reached in for the mermaid first and sat on the edge of her bed. "I love this one." He said before kicking off the portion of his costume that made his feet look like hooves. They were getting uncomfortable, and it was a show he was making himself comfortable and intended to stay for a while. He was in no rush.

He took a dust cloth that was sitting off on a side table and wiped it off. It was still sitting there from last time he'd been in along with some Windex and dust spray. He intended to wipe down the shelves and tend to each one like he always did.

"She loved this one." He added. The Livvy Mermaid. Maybe he was a glutton for punishment, but he enjoyed letting the memories whirl around his head as he touched each one that were living in boxes before he pulled them out, like a collector too afraid to open them up afraid of them losing value instead of enjoying them. The only difference was he knew that wasn't why she kept them in the box. Willem always saw Livvy as another little giant too busy trying to be what she wasn't or who she thought others needed her to be to enjoy who she was. That's why he knew those dolls were loved even shoved in the back of a closet in boxes instead of given away, donated, or sold off. It was thoughts like that which Livvy never quite knew or understood about Willem because they never dwelled long on depths of each other, but it was still thoughts like that which kept Willem attached. It was too close to home.

"Every now and again I think about bringing them all back to Funkytown, but I think they'll worry they might miss her if she comes back." He'd say as if they were actually alive and had thoughts and feelings even all of these didn't have any of the Geppetto magic on them. Willem believed he understood all the feelings of dolls even when they didn't.

"They don't get too lonely. They have each other." He let Figaro know in case they were worried. It had been a worry of his.

He looked more at peace in there than at the ball. "You don't have to sit here while I tidy them. You can go exploring like you wanted. I can meet you in there when I'm done if you want?" He had a feeling Figaro would get bored watching him dust the figurines and shelves and fluff the dolls.

“I am feeling pretty jolly,” Figaro admitted. Seeing their father was bittersweet but there was a lot of good to take away from that. He was watching over them. And he was proud. The ghosts of their Merry Men friends stuck around. There wasn’t much reason to not be jolly.

“I think I’d make a sick Larry,” Figaro hummed as they careened the bus down the mountain road. “Hey Iorek, you wanna be Gary?”

The bear let out a sound that sounded half-whine, half yawn. Figaro looked over their shoulder at him.

“Mrs. Puff? You want to be Mrs goddamn Puff?” They said, with wide eyes. “Damn. I didn’t know you wanted to go for sex appeal. Let’s fuckin do it.”

They nodded, not having much of an opinion either way of whether Livvy was still going to be active in their lives or not. “Hey, she’s alive though, that’s something,” They said. Not a lot of people were these days. “So there’s a chance that you’ll be able to see her again.”

Looking on the bright side wasn’t always their forte but when it came to Will? Goddamn, they really wanted him to be happy. Even if it was with someone like Livvy. That girl had made him smile, while also being frustrating at the same time. Messy - but at least he was showing his teeth.

“You’re right about that, I miss meeting people,” Figaro said, eyes on the road, their voice actually being serious. “Nothing against our friends obviously but - yeah. Variety in the spice of life and we’re not getting that. I’m growing sick of paprika, I want some chile.”

They didn’t mean this romantically, obviously, but they were a social being. There was nothing shy about Figaro. They’d just pop in and make themselves at home, that’s how they made a lot of their friends. And either they gott rejected, or they were invited in as if they had always been there. Meeting Flotsam, as if they had been instant best friends the moment that they met. The high school cafeteria table where they sat, despite not really talking to Arthur and Lance, boom, as if they had been sitting together since kindergarden. And then inviting Willem over to live with them despite only having spoken for a couple of days. They tested that chemistry with a lot of people. And now there wasn’t anyone to pop up on.

Figaro agreed though. Willem did need a certain kind of chaos in his life. “Maybe she’ll surprise ya one day,” They offered. Granted, it seemed HIGHLY unlikely that Delta was ever going to invite in someone like Livvy, a human that didn’t offer that much to her at all. Not without killing her or something similar. But regardless. Stranger things have happened.

They chuckled as they heard Willem sing and joined in with the tune. “-in the closet, that’s Hansel, he’s a bit shy so don’t scream too much!”

They parked up by the playground and looked out the windshield at the building. This area didn’t get much upkeep in Feral. Willem was the only one who really ever came to it. Old blood - once a bright red but now a brick-brown, blended into the walls, and a few bodies still lay around, decomposing. Figaro grabbed the Dragon-Fruit Little Tree air freshener from the mirror and wrapped it around their wrist. “Man, I hate the smell of the dead in the morning,” They sighed.

The bodies didn’t smell too much. It was mostly just bones and a bit of ooze. Being left out in the elements like the sun and the rain definitely had their effects. But they took a big whiff of the air freshener before daring to step outside.

It was still dark, the sky only lightening slightly, as they approached the building. It seemed so desolate. It didn’t need the Frank and Delta treatment to be spooky. “Why am I getting REC vibes? Quarantine? I wish I had a machete.”

That’s when they spotted something glistening. “Oh hey, a dead cop. Oooooh, hey, a dead cop’s gun!” They said, going towards it and took it out of the corpse’s fingerbones. “Now we’re going Resident Evil, baby. Let’s go hang out with some cool dolls.”

[lokisprettygirl]

Right Person, Right Time (Modern Daemon x Female Reader) (18+) (Non Canon Au)

Read chapter 1 here

Chapter 2

Summary : Daemon takes you to his bed, in the way you wanted and didn't want at the same time.

Warning: 18+ , Mention of infidelity, death, smut in later chapters, reader has self deprecating attitude

If it was possible to die from embarrassment, you would have been dead by now, perhaps you were overreacting because it has been barely 5 seconds since you had uttered those god awful words --

“Good take me to your bed then.. i don't want to be alone tonight "

Yeah you did that and the man next to you, the man that you had the audacity to insult just a few moments ago, the man whose last name wasn't something you had bothered to ask, the man who had heard you very clearly just now and had gone completely quiet on you, so quiet that you could hear your heartbeat.

He was not even giving you a moment of grace towards your undignified manner, you'd have preferred to hear a sharp no instead of the awkward silence that had clouded the compact space of the elevator and it was suffocating you... suffocating - 

And Thank Goodness your floor had arrived.

Now all you had to do was move out of this building and never see him again. Perhaps get out of the city and then the country while you were onto that.

As you were about to step out, his arm came in front of you and he pressed the close door button so you looked up at his face. God he was close, too close, you could smell him and he didn't smell awful. On the contrary, he smelled fucking fantastic but then his manly scent reminded you of Marco and you wanted to disappear again.

“That's not my floor lady” He said to you so you gulped in response, his mouth curved into a smile before he stepped away from you.

“So you heard me huh?” you asked as you crossed your arms.

“You were too loud and too clear” you huffed internally as he responded in that smug manner.

You could just say no right, though you asked for it, there was still time to get out of this situation, why get him involved in your tangled mess of a life? 

You wanted to say something but as you watched the elevator moving up you didn't really say anything, you didn't want to go back to your apartment. Too many memories, too many imprints of Marco over there. You had to survive the night somehow and you found yourself unable to do it all alone. He had made you so weak and so non fucntional.

“Ummm don't take this the wrong way but what I said just now- ” you chuckled to hide your embarrassment so he raised his brow “What I'm saying is that...I just..i ummm..i .. when I said that i –”

“Ssssshhhhhhhhhhhhhh” you turned your head to look at him as he shushed you, his lips formed a pout when he dragged the sound of the shushing as if he was speaking to a petulant child. Okay he had a nice set of lips, pink, and they looked soft and..well at least you weren't rebounding with some junkie hobo you thought. Not that there was anything right with this situation either.

As the elevator stopped finally at the top most floor and the door opened, you noticed another door and he stepped forward to enter the passkey, that door then opened straight into a -

“Lobby? You have a Lobby of your own?” You asked him as you followed him and looked around in wonderment, he smiled as he noticed the wide eyed look on your face. 

“Perks of the penthouse”

The lobby had a narrow corridor on the other end that lead towards the main area of the penthouse, he guided you to his supposed living room and you stared at him as he took his leather jacket off and dumped it on the couch before he unhooked the glasses from the collar of his white t-shirt and placed it on a side table, he then disappeared into one of the rooms and came back shortly after.

“You're ruining my carpet, dry yourself up” He threw the towel in your direction so you caught it swiftly before it could hit his shiny expensive carpet.

“Thanks..I guess” as you dried the dripping water from your hair you watched him strut his way behind the bar in the corner of the room, a part of you still wanted to run but then the thought of going back to the apartment and being all alone with nothing but the memories of you and Marco felt dreadful.

Two years and it meant nothing to him, you meant nothing to him, of course you didn't, you wanted to take out your phone and check if he had called or messaged but then again, every thought of yours circled back to the moment of him fucking someone else behind your back. Someone very hot and attractive.

“What's your choice of poison, love?” You heard Daemon's voice so you sighed and walked towards his couch to sit down.

“Anything would do in this moment” you answered him but had to grimace internally as he returned with two glasses of scotch on the rocks. When you said anything, you didn't mean a literal shot of gasoline. He offered you the glass so you took it and sipped on it because you had no other choice, the couch sank in as he sat down next to you so you scooted a little farther away from him..

“So ummm how do you afford all this.. generational wealth?” he smirked as you questioned him, you were so judgemental and assuming but for some reason this trait of yours didn't annoy him as much it would have if it was attached to someone else.

“Yeah, sort of, but I also work for it” he told you honestly so you chuckled in what seemed to be a very condescending manner.

“But you're home, at 5 in the afternoon?” you said to him as a matter of fact.

“I mostly work at nights..” 

“Doing..what exactly?” 

“I own businesses..clubs, bars, pubs, hotels, that sort of thing” he answered in a way that made you feel as if he was trying to sound humble about it but it didn't help his case, he was bragging and he was bragging hard.

“Anything you own that I might have heard of?” you asked him so he gave you a smile. That's what he had been waiting for.

“Dark Sister..the nightclub”

You almost spat out your drink as he said that, that stupid fucking place, that place was important to you, that's where you had met Marco for the first time, and he often took you there to unwind after a long week.

“You own that.. like the whole club?” you asked him, surprise evident in your voice. 

“No I just own one sofa in there..ofcourse i own the whole thing” 

“Ohhh ..i ..i didn't know that..i have been there..quite a few times.. never saw you there..do you even go there?” 

“All the time. There's a world outside your hot lover's arms you know? You never really got out of it did you?” you glared at him as he said that. What was this developing energy between you two?  It definitely wasn't positive to say the least but it didn't seem completely negative either. Up until this moment and for so long you two had been only nice with each other or polite would be a better suited term but this passive aggressive conversation didn't seem that way.

“Well.. He does have great arms, big.. manly arms, comforting arms…warmmmmm” your voice choked on your tears as you thought of him and as much as he despised hearing the praises of your cheating ex he understood what you were going through in the moment and he didn't want to add to your misery so he grabbed the tissue box from the coffee table and passed one to you.

“Thank you” you mumbled as you grabbed the tissue to wipe your dripping tears. Fucking Marco, he had ruined your life forever.

“Look i.. when I said I wanted you to get me into your bed-” 

And he interrupted you.

“I have a great bed, wanna see?” He spoke so you opened your mouth to say something offensive but you did want to see the bed after seeing that carpet.

“Fine..I'll see YOUR bed” you gestured to him with your fingers, air quoting the term dramatically to come across as uninterested.

As he led you towards his bedroom you looked around and sighed, you wanted to find something to complain about, perhaps messy clothes all around or dirt in the corner but it was squeaky clean thoroughly. You didn't know why you were behaving this way with him, what was this? Couldn't have been sexual tension.

And the king sized bed did look amazing, almost made you want to lie down but then the bed reminded you of Marco, everything reminded you of Marco. 

You sighed as you walked towards the bed and then turned to look at him.

“Okay let's do this ..no expectations..no promises..no attachment..no strings whatever right? It's just one night” you blinked your eyes to affirm your point so he chuckled and stepped towards you.

“You're a strange kind of woman, you know that?” he said as caressed his own chin as if he was assessing an anomaly.

“Way to compliment a woman you're about to fuck” 

“I’m not going to fuck you sweetheart..just sit down and relax” he said as he grumbled.

Okay you took that as an offense.

“Why ? Why can't you fuck me..am I so unfuckable? Would you rather fuck a hot stripper from your club or something? Would you fuck me if I was hot? Or a stripper? Or a hot stripper? What is wrong with me? Do tell me” His brows furrowed as you blabbed nonsensically. Now that you were focusing on it, his brows didn't really have.. brow hair ..his head was a different story though. Way too much hair. Thick and bushy, and curls at the bottom -

He suddenly walked towards you so you took a step back and hit the foot of the bed which made you sit down involuntarily.

“I do not own a strip club FYI, but if I did I'd hire you and you're right given the chance I'd certainly fuck this very hot, very fuckable stripper” he leaned down and placed his palms on the bed around you on as he spoke. Hazel eyes, he has hazel eyes mixed with green, you had never really noticed before.

He had a way, strange way of .. complimenting you and insulting you at the same time. So different from Marco, honey dripped from his mouth whenever he spoke to you.

“Then why won't you do it?” you asked him, your voice soft and vulnerable so he looked down for a moment and then looked right into your eyes again.

“I want to.. don't get it twisted but I’m not going to fuck a grieving woman, when I have a woman like you in my bed i like to think that I'm all she's thinking about in the moment. I'm not going to be inside you and have you wishing it was that lothario instead” he said to you before he stepped away, your eyes welled up and you didn't even try to control it this time. That lothario was the love of your life, it was just your luck that you weren't his.

“Why did you bring me here then?’ you asked him as you stood up so he crossed his arms.

“Because you didn't want to be alone.. and you're not alone right now, are you?”  he mumbled in a no nonsense tone and you didn't know what it was, it wasn't as if he had said anything profound or magical but the kindness in his tone made you break down right then, you sat down on his bed and wept as hard as you could. It was sinking in finally, you'd never find a man to love you again and you'd definitely never find anyone like Marco. 

He watched you for a moment, well a few moments before he walked towards the bed and laid down next to you, though maintaining an ample amount of distance from you. This morning when he woke up he definitely didn't imagine in his wildest thoughts that the pretty girl from his building would be crying profusely in his bed by the end of the day. A small part of him that he had killed long ago wanted to scoot closer and comfort you but he restrained himself.

No expectations, no promises, he had to live by that. For his own sake.

After what felt like hours when your sniffling died down you propped yourself on your elbows and stared at him, 

“Well ..you were right about one thing..this is a mighty good bed” he couldn't help but smile as you said that, as if you weren't bawling your eyes out just a minute ago..

“I only do the best darling” 

“Okay ummm..i.. would like to just keep my head down here and close my eyes for a moment -” 

You said to him so he immediately got up and grabbed your arms to pull yourself up as well.

“Change up first, you can't sleep in wet clothes and especially not in my bed you dummy” he said to you as if he was your father so you crossed your arms, you were just starting to find him tolerable.

“I'll just go to my apartment” you said to him so he sighed and walked towards his closet to grab a comfy tee and shorts that he hardly ever wears.

“Change and you can go” he commanded. Who did he think he was? A kind and known stranger who worried about you getting sick in your drenched clothes? Well fuck his kindness.

“I'll change when I'm home” you argued, at this point you were just arguing for the sake of it.

“No you won't..you'd collapse on your door, won't even make it to the bedroom” he argued further.

“If I change I'm sleeping in your bed ..you can find another..bed somewhere in this huge penthouse of yours” 

“Fine with me” 

You huffed as you grabbed the clothes from him and went to the bathroom to change quickly, you were glad the shirt was loose enough so he wouldn't notice that you weren't wearing your bra.

As you came out he stared at you, you wanted to wipe that smirk off his face.

“You find this funny?” 

“No..You just look so silly is all” 

“Blame your stupid clothes” 

He brought his hands up as if surrendering and accepting defeat finally so you decided to not say anything further. 

As you sat down next to him you turned your head to look at him.

“Thank you ..for the clothes and the bed and your company and everything else” you said to him as politely as you could amd you really meant it this time. He tilted his head as he noticed the hint of tears in your eyes.

He could tell you were going to be a trouble for him.

“Okay” he mumbled before he got up and walked towards the couch to lie down. 

You didn't want to be alone so he wasn't going to leave you alone. 

As your head hit the pillow and eyes closed you only saw the image of Marco fucking that hot brunette with fervent passion. It was burned in your memory now and you knew you'd never be able to unsee it no matter how much you wanted it but you could worry about that tomorrow, tonight you weren't alone so you didn't have to wallow in self pity.

“Daemon?” You called out his name so he hummed in response.

“What is your full name? I never asked -” 

You heard the sound of faint chuckling coming from him before he answered. 

“Targaryen..Daemon Targaryen” 

Targaryen.. Targaryen... Targaryen..where had you heard that name before, you had heard it somewhere and then suddenly it dawned on you.

You knew him. No that wasn't right, you knew about him.

😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏

Note : What does she know?

Taglist @unofficialavenger90 @kimberleyneko-blog @m-riaa @anukulee @erebus-et-eigengrau @littledark11 @silhouetteofher

[satansdarlin]

Marigold Margins

oneshot

Tim drake x Fem!reader, Established relationship, period comfort

notes: made this cause I was having terrible period cramps

word count: 4.4 K

rating: G

Warnings: None :)

The penthouse was unusually quiet when Tim returned home well past midnight. The board meeting had dragged endlessly, but your morning message calling in sick had lingered in his thoughts all day. A simple "Can't make it in" followed by a string of crying emojis had been unlike your usual professional demeanor.

The bedroom was dark save for the faint city lights filtering through the floor-to-ceiling windows. A mountain of blankets on the bed shifted slightly at his entrance, and he noticed the usually neat space was scattered with tell-tale signs of your day: empty tea mugs, a half-eaten pack of crackers, and what appeared to be a hot water bottle peeking out from the blanket pile.

"Baby?" Tim's voice was barely above a whisper. A muffled groan emerged from the blanket fortress. "Oh, sweetheart." His hand traced the outline of your form beneath the layers.

"I want to cease existing," came your pitiful declaration from somewhere within the cocoon. "Everything hurts. My back feels like someone's trying to fold me in half backwards."

"Not on my watch," he murmured, amusement threading through his concern. "Have you taken anything today?"

"Ibuprofen. Twice. Barely touched it." You shifted, and he caught a glimpse of your pale face in the dim light. "The cramps woke me up at three AM. Couldn't even stand straight enough to make it to the office."

Tim's expression softened. He knew how much you hated missing work, how seriously you took your position. For you to call in, it must have been truly unbearable.

"Why didn't you call me earlier?" He was already shrugging off his suit jacket, mind cycling through ways to help.

"You had the board meeting. The expansion plans." Your voice was muffled again as you burrowed deeper into the blankets. "I didn't want to... distract..."

"Hey," his tone grew firm, "your wellbeing is never a distraction."

He located the heated blanket, plugging it in and carefully arranging it over your curled form. The medicine cabinet in the bathroom yielded extra strength painkillers, and he filled a glass of water.

"Here," he offered both to you. "Small sips."

You emerged just enough to take the medicine, and he noticed the slight sheen of sweat on your forehead, the way you winced at even the small movement.

"I'm going to run you a bath - the really hot kind you like. And then I'm calling Indi."

"Why Indi?" you mumbled, already curling back into your nest.

"Because last time this happened, she brought that special tea blend that actually helped. And because she'll kill me if I don't let her know you're suffering."

A weak laugh escaped you. "You're too good to me."

"Just good enough," he corrected softly, pressing his lips to what he hoped was your forehead through the blankets. "Try to rest. I'll be right back."

In the bathroom, he started filling the oversized tub, adding the lavender bath salts you kept for especially rough days. His phone was already out, typing a message to Indi:

To: Indi

Message: Monthly visitor hit hard. She's in rough shape. Any chance you still have that tea blend?

The response was immediate:

From: Indi

Message: I’ll be there first thing in the morning with supplies. Tell her to hang in there. Making her favorite soup too.

Tim smiled slightly, grateful not for the first time for your support system. He returned to the bedroom, finding you had migrated slightly toward the edge of the bed.

"Bath's almost ready. Think you can make it?"

"If you help me?" Your voice was small, vulnerable in a way you rarely allowed yourself to be at work.

"Always," he promised, already moving to assist you. "Indi's on her way with reinforcements."

"Mm, you love me."

"Yes," he said simply, helping you stand. "I do."

.

.

.

In the morning, the sun had just barely crested over the horizon and you were bundled up in Tim's oversized Gotham University hoodie and a pair of well-worn sweatpants. The familiar scent of his laundry detergent mixed with the persistent aroma of Indi's infamous liver soup - a "family recipe" she swore by during these times. You were curled into the corner of the plush sectional, looking absolutely miserable as your sister wielded a spoon like a weapon.

"Come on," Indi coaxed, the soup spoon hovering dangerously close to your face. Dick was perched on the arm of the couch beside her, poorly concealing his amusement at the scene. "It's good for you!"

Tim, settled in the armchair nearby, let out a poorly suppressed snicker at your expression of absolute betrayal.

"If it's so amazing, why don't you all-" your indignant protest was cut short as Indi, ever the opportunist, shoved the spoon into your open mouth. Her triumphant "Ha!" echoed through the penthouse.

"You need the iron," she insisted, already preparing another spoonful. "Your color's terrible."

"It tastes like sadness and betrayal," you whined, pulling Tim's hoodie up to cover half your face. "Why can't I just take iron supplements like a normal person?"

"Because," Indi started, her voice taking on that familiar lecturing tone, "this is Grandma's recipe. It helped me, it helped Scarlet, and it's going to help you."

Dick leaned forward, his expression sympathetic but clearly entertained. "You know she's not going to give up, right? I've seen this exact scene play out with Babs."

"Traitor," you muttered, but accepted another spoonful with minimal resistance. "You're supposed to be on my side."

"I'm on the side of not having my girlfriend worry herself sick about her baby sister," Dick countered smoothly.

Tim watched the exchange with soft eyes, noting how even in your misery, there was something comforting about the familiar family dynamic. Your phone buzzed - probably Scarlet checking in for the hundredth time today.

"How about this," Tim offered, "three more spoonfuls and we can watch that terrible reality show you pretend not to love."

Your eyes narrowed at him over the hoodie. "Five episodes?"

"Three."

"Four, and you don't complain about the drama."

"Deal," he conceded, earning an approving nod from Indi.

"See?" Indi beamed, "Compromise! Now open up for the airplane..."

"I will literally fire all of you," you threatened weakly, but opened your mouth anyway.

Dick's laugh was warm. "Pretty sure you can't fire me. Indi and I don't even work with you and Tim is literally your boss,"

"I'll find a way," you mumbled around another spoonful of soup, but there was no heat in it. Just the comfort of being surrounded by people who cared enough to force-feed you liver soup and negotiate reality TV treaties.

Tim's hand found yours under the blanket, squeezing gently. Another spoonful down, two to go, and then maybe - just maybe - you'd admit that the soup was helping. But not out loud. Never out loud. You had a reputation to maintain, after all.

"Last bite," Indi announced triumphantly, wielding the spoon like a victory flag. "And then my work here is done."

You swallowed dramatically, collapsing back against the couch cushions. "If I die, tell Scarlet it was Indi's soup that did it."

"Drama queen," Dick teased, but he was already reaching for the remote. "Which trashy show are we subjecting ourselves to tonight?"

"Real Housewives of Gotham," you and Indi said in unison, causing Tim to groan softly.

"You promised not to complain," you reminded him, shifting to rest your head against his shoulder as he moved to join you on the couch. The heating pad was still warm against your abdomen, and his presence was steadying.

"I'm not complaining," Tim defended, adjusting the blanket around you. "I'm just... expressing concern about your taste in television."

Indi bustled around the kitchen, cleaning up the soup aftermath and preparing what sounded like tea. Dick had somehow produced a bag of chocolate-covered almonds from somewhere - your favorite guilty pleasure snack that you were pretty sure Tim had started keeping stocked just for these occasions.

Your phone buzzed again:

From: Scarlet

Message: Soup status? Did they get it into you? Don't make me come over there.

To: Scarlet

Message: Mission accomplished. Your evil minions succeeded.

From: Scarlet

Message: Good girl. Rest up. Love you.

"Scarlet checking in?" Tim asked softly, his fingers absently running through your hair.

"Mmhmm. Making sure the torture was successful." You nestled closer, the combination of warmth, full stomach, and pain medication making you drowsy.

"Here," Indi returned with mugs of her special tea blend. "This should help with the cramping."

"If it tastes anything like the soup..." you started to protest, but Indi's stern look silenced you.

"It's peppermint and ginger. Maybe a few other things. Family secret." She settled back next to Dick, who immediately draped his arm around her shoulders.

The show started playing, its familiar dramatic intro music filling the penthouse. Tim's hand hadn't stopped its gentle motion through your hair, and you could feel yourself starting to drift despite the theatrical arguing on screen.

"You can sleep," Tim murmured, just for you. "We won't tell the Housewives."

"'m not sleeping," you protested weakly. "Just resting my eyes."

Dick's soft chuckle suggested he didn't believe you either, but you were too comfortable to argue. The pain had dulled to a manageable ache, and the familiar voices of your favorite guilty pleasure show mixed with the quiet conversation between Indi and Dick.

"Thank you," you whispered to Tim, not sure if he heard it.

But his gentle kiss to your temple suggested he had.

The last thing you registered before drifting off was Indi's voice: "Dick, don't you dare tell Bruce about the soup recipe. Some things need to stay in the family."

.

.

.

Consciousness returned slowly, accompanied by the gentle hum of familiar voices. The penthouse - usually your and Tim's quiet sanctuary - had transformed into what could only be described as organized chaos. Tim was still asleep beside you, his breathing deep and even, one arm protectively draped over your middle where the heating pad had slipped.

The scene unfolding before you was like something from a Renaissance painting of domestic life. In the kitchen, Alfred and Indi were deep in conversation, recipe cards spread between them like battle plans. Alfred's eyes twinkled as your sister demonstrated what looked suspiciously like the proper way to dice vegetables.

"Master Timothy always did prefer the carrots julienned," Alfred was saying, his fond smile evident in his tone.

Near the window, Jason and Dick's hushed argument with Damian had something to do with proper gaming console setups - their gestures becoming increasingly elaborate while trying to maintain their whispered volume.

"Pennyworth's setup is clearly superior," Damian insisted, arms crossed.

"Yeah, if you're living in 1995," Jason countered.

Stephanie and Cass had claimed the bar stools, systematically working their way through what appeared to be Alfred's special triple chocolate brownies. They shared knowing looks each time they successfully nabbed another piece without drawing attention.

Your baby sister Petal had commandeered a corner of the room, her easel set up to capture the whole scene. Her tongue poked out slightly in concentration - a habit she'd had since childhood - as she mixed colors on her palette. The morning light caught her dark hair, making the purple streaks she'd recently added shimmer.

Bruce and your mom had claimed the comfortable armchairs by the window, sharing what looked like coffee and quiet laughter. Your mom's eyes crinkled at the corners the way they always did when she was truly relaxed, and Bruce's usual stern demeanor had softened considerably.

"I swear," your mom was saying, "teenagers are the same whether they're vigilantes or not."

"Tell me about it," Bruce replied with a knowing smile.

Near the dining room, Barbara was patiently explaining something about the smart home system to Duke, who looked both impressed and slightly overwhelmed.

"So you're saying Tim basically built his own AI?" Duke whispered.

"More or less," Babs confirmed. "Though don't let him hear you call it that. He's very specific about the terminology."

You couldn't help the warm feeling spreading through your chest at the sight of both your families so naturally intertwined. Pressing a soft kiss to Tim's neck, you felt him stir slightly.

"The cavalry arrived while we were asleep," you hummed against his skin, watching his eyes flutter open.

"Mm," he mumbled, taking in the scene. "Alfred's here. That explains why it smells edible."

"I heard that, Master Timothy," Alfred called from the kitchen, not even turning around.

You stifled a laugh against Tim's shoulder as he had the grace to look slightly sheepish. Your phone buzzed - another text from Scarlet:

From: Scarlet

Message: Stuck at the shop but Harkin insists on sending you his latest masterpiece. [Picture attached: a somewhat abstract crayon drawing of what might be you, surrounded by what appears to be every color in the crayon box]

To: Scarlet

Message: It's beautiful. Tell my favorite nephew he's definitely getting extra cookies next visit.

"How are you feeling?" Tim asked softly, his hand finding yours under the blanket.

Before you could answer, your mom's voice carried across the room: "Don't let her tell you she's fine, Timothy. She always says she's fine."

"Mom!" you protested, but there was no heat in it.

"She's right, you know," Tim murmured, pressing a kiss to your temple. "You always say you're fine."

The smell of fresh bread suddenly wafted through the penthouse, making your stomach growl traitorously. Alfred and Indi shared a knowing look.

"Perfect timing," Alfred declared. "Master Timothy, if you would assist in setting the table? I believe we'll need the extended leaves for this gathering."

Your attempt to help was immediately shut down by no less than three people.

"Don't you dare," Indi warned, wielding a wooden spoon threateningly.

"Sit," Tim commanded gently, untangling himself from you.

"TT. Drake's companion should rest," Damian added, surprising everyone. When they stared, he shrugged. "Pennyworth says so."

Your mom approached with a fresh mug of tea, settling beside you on the couch. "How's my baby really feeling?"

"Better," you admitted, accepting the tea. "The soup helped. Don't tell Indi."

"Your secret's safe with me." She smoothed your hair back, just like she used to when you were little. "Though I think everyone knows by now. Family recipe and all."

The word 'family' caught you, making you look around the room again. Bruce was now helping Tim with the table, their movements synchronized from years of practice. Jason had somehow been roped into helping Alfred plate food, though he kept stealing bites when he thought no one was looking. Petal had convinced Cass to pose for a quick sketch, while Stephanie offered increasingly ridiculous pose suggestions.

"Speaking of family," your mom's voice was careful, measured. "Bruce and I were talking..."

"Mom," you warned, knowing that tone.

"Just hear me out. The penthouse is lovely, but that Manor has so much space. And Alfred mentioned something about the guest house being renovated..."

You nearly choked on your tea. "Are you and Bruce trying to get us to move to the Manor?"

"It would be practical," Bruce chimed in, apparently having bat-hearing when it came to Manor-related conversations. "Shorter commute for both of you."

"And closer to family," your mom added.

"We're literally having this conversation while everyone's here in our penthouse," you pointed out.

"The Manor has a better security system," Tim contributed, earning him a betrayed look.

"Et tu, Timothy?"

He raised his hands in surrender, but you could see the consideration in his eyes. Before you could protest further, Alfred announced that lunch was ready.

The spread was impressive - fresh bread, three different soups (including a conspicuous absence of liver), and what looked like enough food to feed a small army. Which, given the current occupancy of your penthouse, seemed appropriate.

"I can't believe you're all conspiring about real estate while I'm vulnerable," you grumbled, but allowed Tim to help you to the table.

"Master Timothy," Alfred said as he placed a bowl of your favorite soup in front of you, "perhaps we should also mention the plans for the greenhouse?"

Your eyes lit up despite yourself. Tim shot Alfred a look that clearly said 'traitor.'

"Greenhouse?" you asked, interest piqued.

"I was going to mention it when you were feeling better," Tim admitted. "Bruce suggested we might want to restore the east greenhouse. It's got good light for your herbs..."

"And it's right next to the guest house," Bruce added innocently.

"You're all impossible," you declared, but you were smiling.

Your phone buzzed again:

From: Scarlet

Message: They're trying to get you to move to the Manor aren't they? Mom just texted me. I vote yes. Better security.

To: Scarlet

Message: Traitor

The family meal continued around you, conversations overlapping, laughter filling the space. Tim's hand found yours under the table, squeezing gently.

"We don't have to decide anything now," he murmured.

"I know." You leaned against him slightly. "But maybe... maybe we could look at the greenhouse?"

His smile was worth the chorus of triumphant looks from both your families. 

You were watching Jason pass by your seat when something caught your eye - a familiar glint of metal on his key ring. Beside his motorcycle key and what you recognized as his Manor key hung a delicate rose pendant... and a very familiar brass key that you'd seen countless times at Scarlet's flower shop.

"When did you get a key to Scarlet's shop?" The question left your mouth before you could stop it, casual but pointed.

Jason froze mid-step, his expression flickering for just a split second - but long enough for you to catch it. Years of training with the Bats couldn't quite hide the deer-in-headlights look that crossed his face.

The pieces suddenly clicked into place.

"YOU'RE THE MYSTERY GUY!" The synchronized shout from you, Indi, and Petal made several people jump. Dick actually choked on his water.

"The one who's been leaving the poetry books?" Indi gasped.

"And the vintage botanical prints?" Petal added, her paintbrush forgotten mid-stroke.

"The reason she's been humming love songs while arranging flowers?" You finished, watching Jason's composure crack further with each accusation.

Tim's eyebrows had shot up so high they were practically in his hairline. "Jason, you've been dating Scarlet?"

"I... we..." Jason ran a hand through his hair, a rare sign of nervousness. "It's not... we were going to tell everyone..."

"When?" Bruce asked, looking both amused and intrigued.

"Eventually," Jason muttered.

Your phone was already in your hand:

To: Scarlet

Message: JASON TODD?!?! THE POETRY BOOKS WERE FROM JASON?!

The response was almost immediate:

From: Scarlet

Message: ...I can explain?

Message: Actually no I can't. Surprise? 😅

Message: DO NOT TERRORIZE HIM I SWEAR TO GOD

"How long?" you demanded, turning back to Jason who was now looking increasingly like he wanted to jump out the nearest window.

"Six months," he admitted finally.

"SIX MONTHS?!" The collective exclamation made him wince.

"Does this mean Jason is going to be our brother-in-law?" Petal asked innocently, making Jason choke on air.

Your mother gave Indi a pointed look. She was glaring daggers through Jason's back with a protective older sister aura that made her seem like the biggest threat in the room – which, considering the present company of vigilantes, was quite an achievement.

"Indigo..." Your mom spoke in a warning tone. Indi tore her gaze away from Jason's backside.

"You can't blame me for being cautious," Indi mumbled, fingers tapping an agitated rhythm against her thigh. "Last guy she was with knocked her up and left."

"Maybe that's why Scarlet didn't tell us," you murmured under your breath. The moment the words left your mouth, you saw Indi's expression shift from anger to understanding, her shoulders dropping slightly.

Your mother placed a gentle hand on her eldest daughter's shoulder and guided her toward the kitchen for a private discussion. Left in the aftermath, you looked up at Jason and offered an apologetic smile.

"Sorry. Indi is just... protective. She doesn't show it often, but you didn't just come into one of her sisters' lives – you're in her nephew's life too." You explained, watching Jason's expression carefully. "And well, Scarlet didn't let us hunt down her ex." You lowered your voice to add, "Not that it stopped me."

Tim quirked a brow at you, and you felt your cheeks warm slightly. "I may have gotten him blacklisted in most of Gotham's elite circles?"

Tim let out an amused chuckle, not at all surprised you'd basically doxxed the guy. His arm tightened around you slightly – proud, not disapproving.

"Well, if I see the guy on the street it's on sight," Jason grumbled, his jaw set in a way that suggested he meant every word. The declaration made you and Petal both smile.

"That's enough for a seal of approval from me," you declared, then turned to your youngest sister. "What about you, Rose?"

Petal nodded with all the gravity of a supreme court justice delivering a verdict. "Agreed, sister." She leaned over toward Damian, whispering something that made him roll his eyes but nod nonetheless.

The sight made your chest swell with pride. If you hadn't gotten that job under Tim a few years back, none of this would have happened. Your families would have never merged into this beautiful chaos. Damian and Petal would never have become best friends (though Damian insisted Rose was "delusional" even while being first in line at her art galleries). Dick and Indi might never have found each other – and now they were planning her upcoming tour together, Dick already committed to joining her on the road.

Your eyes drifted to Bruce and your mom, who had been suspiciously meeting for lunch lately. They thought they were being subtle, dodging questions with practiced ease, but you and your sisters had your theories. The way they gravitated toward each other, sharing private smiles over coffee cups, hadn't gone unnoticed.

And now Jason and Scarlet. Your phone buzzed again:

From: Scarlet

Message: Is the coast clear yet? Did Indi go full protective mode?

Message: Also please tell me you didn't mention the poetry he writes me 

To: Scarlet

Message: HE WRITES YOU POETRY?! 

Message: This keeps getting better 😈

You watched as Jason's phone buzzed, and his eyes widened slightly – no doubt getting a warning message from Scarlet about the poetry revelation.

Eventually, Indi returned, her expression softer but no less intense. She pulled Jason aside for what appeared to be both an apology and a series of creative threats about what would happen if he hurt her sister or nephew. From your angle, you could see Jason's expression shift from wary to respectful – recognizing and appreciating the fierce protection of family.

Your phone buzzed one final time:

From: Scarlet

Message: For what it's worth... he makes us really happy. Both of us.

Message: And Harkin adores him. Says he's cooler than Spider-Man now

Message: Just... don't let Indi scare him off? Please?

"How's Kori, Babs?" You looked over at Barbara who smiled warmly at the mention of her girlfriend. The way her whole face lit up never failed to make you happy – especially after everything they'd been through to get where they are now.

"She's doing good," Barbara's eyes sparkled with affection. "Actually, she's presenting at the National Astronomy Conference next week. She's been practicing her speech for days – keeps worrying her English isn't 'sufficiently academic.'" The air quotes made you chuckle.

"As if anyone could question her credentials," Dick chimed in from where he sat with Indi. "She literally navigates by starlight."

"Tell her I still want those space cookies she promised," Jason called out, then immediately looked like he regretted drawing attention to himself as Indi's protective gaze snapped back to him.

"Space... cookies?" your mom asked, looking both intrigued and slightly concerned.

"They're these amazing cookies Kori makes using a Tamaranean recipe," Tim explained. "They literally sparkle and somehow taste like stardust – if stardust was delicious."

"And completely safe for human consumption," Barbara added quickly, seeing your mom's expression. "Alfred helped her adapt the recipe."

"Indeed," Alfred confirmed from the kitchen. "Though I must say, some of the substitutions were quite... creative. Earth cinnamon is apparently a reasonable alternative to pulverized meteor dust."

"Scarlet's been trying to convince her to let us sell them at the shop," Jason mentioned, then immediately looked like he wished he could take the words back as everyone's attention returned to the revelation of his relationship.

"You've been hanging out at the shop?" Petal's eyes narrowed. "Is that why there've been fresh flowers in the Manor greenhouse?"

Jason's slight blush was all the confirmation needed.

"Kori's been teaching Jason the language of flowers," Barbara supplied helpfully, earning a betrayed look from Jason. "What? Kori told me. She thinks it's romantic."

"The fearsome Red Hood, learning Victorian flower meanings," Dick grinned. "Never thought I'd see the day."

"Shut it, Grayson," Jason growled, but there was no real heat in it. "At least I don't write songs about Indi's eyes in the middle of patrol."

Now it was Dick's turn to blush as Indi turned to him with delighted surprise. "You write songs about my eyes?"

"I... that was supposed to be private, Jay," Dick muttered, but he was smiling as Indi pressed a kiss to his cheek.

Your phone buzzed again:

From: Scarlet  

Message: JASON KNOWS FLOWER LANGUAGES NOW?! 

Message: Is that why my latest bouquets have been so specific??

Message: Tell him if the red carnations meant what I think they meant, then yes 🥰

To: Scarlet  

Message: You two are disgustingly cute. I'm telling Indi.

From: Scarlet  

Message: DON'T YOU DARE

Message: ...but also maybe tell her he's learning it properly? She always said a guy should know what he's saying with flowers...

"Scarlet says yes, by the way," you told Jason quietly, watching his face soften in a way you'd never seen before. "To whatever the red carnations meant."

The smile that spread across his face was enough to make even Indi's protective stance relax slightly.

"What did they mean?" Petal asked innocently.

"None of your business, Rosebud," Jason replied, but his voice was gentle.

"'My heart aches for you,'" your mom supplied casually, not looking up from her phone. When everyone stared at her, she shrugged. "What? I dated a florist in college. Some things stick with you."

You looked up at your expanding, complicated, beautiful family. Tim caught your eye and smiled, somehow knowing exactly what you were thinking.

"Pretty amazing, isn't it?" he murmured, just for you.

"Yeah," you agreed, watching as Alfred began distributing fresh cups of tea, as Bruce helped your mom with something on her phone, as Damian and Petal bent their heads together over her sketchbook, as Dick pulled Indi into a comforting embrace, as Jason typed what was probably a very apologetic message to Scarlet. "Pretty amazing.”

.

.

.

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[cheriipetal]

ᯓ★ Chap. 3 | Big feelings, Small words

Sypnosis .𖥔 ݁ You were like a ghost that's haunting him. But somehow he couldn't be scared of you, not wanting to exorcise you but wanting for you to stay with him.

── .✦ 4537 words.

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Rin looked at the TV screen, seeing the familiar scenes of his favorite movie brought a thrill to him. His hands clutched his toys, grip tightening whenever an exciting scene came up. It was getting to the good parts of the movie.

He jolted, hearing a rumble of a car stopping on its tracks, distracting him. Did his parents finally arrive?— he peeked outside from the window, but to his disappointment, they didn't.

He then lowered his head, ready to go back to his spot on the couch. That's when he saw you, a girl his age, stepping out of the car talking in English.

For some reason, the younger Itoshi didn’t know why his eyes couldn’t take themselves off of you. There wasn’t anything special about you—it’s not like you were doing a backflip while scoring a goal—yet you seemed to pull his gaze toward you like a magnet for his eyes. It wasn’t your toy or dress, it was just… you, maybe it was because of how you spoke English, were you a foreigner? He didn’t know at all.

“That’s probably the family that bought the lot,” Rin heard his older brother’s voice looming behind him. He looked at Sae, trying to see what he felt about this, but he had that unreadable expression like always.

The younger shook his head, clearing his thoughts away, trying to hide the strange feeling bubbling in his chest. “I… don’t care. They’re just gonna be NPCs to me,” he muttered, feigning indifference and moving away from the window, rushing toward the TV.

He turned curious and looked toward his brother, who was still observing the new neighbors.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Over the course of days, Rin couldn’t help but just peek over the window more often than he’d like to admit. He’d spot you playing on the front porch, sometimes with a stuffed toy in your hands.

“She’s just a neighbor,” Rin told himself firmly, shaking his head. “Nothing special.”

But his eyes still wandered to your front porch with pots of blooming colorful flowers whenever he thought no one was watching. He noticed how you often went out with your dad, your laughter echoing through the air.

“Rin!” Sae yelled during one of their practice drills, pulling him out of his thoughts.

The younger Itoshi panicked and shot the ball straight to the net, which was blocked by the goalie. Rin felt his heart beating as he missed the shot.

His breath heavy and panting, his teal eyes scanning his brother, who had an unreadable expression as usual.

“What’s up with you lately?” Sae suddenly asked, his hand glued to his hip.

“Huh?” Rin asked, trying to play it cool.

“It’s like you’re in la-la land. You’ve been in your head lately,” the older Itoshi said with nonchalance, but there was a tint of concern in it.

Silence was the only answer Rin replied with. He felt even more embarrassed by his older brother’s comment and an immense weight on his shoulders. He hated how Sae could always read him, hated how he wasn’t able to stay focused like his older brother does.

“I’m fine,” Rin mumbled, finally answering.

Sae didn’t press any further, but for the rest of the day, Rin wasn’t feeling himself. He couldn’t shake off the feeling, and it boiled every minute. He felt angry, but at what exactly? Himself? Nii-chan? Or you?

They arrived home, Sae went ahead. Rin remained static, wanting to let out all the frustration that was building up. The ball he was gripping in his hands bounced off of the pavement as he dropped it.

He then mustered all of his strength into the kick. He didn’t know what he was aiming at, but he just wanted to hit something. The ball bounced off the wall as expected, but it curved sharply in the direction behind him.

Rin turned around to follow where it was heading, but then it was going at your house at full speed. His gaze scanned if you were there, and to his disappointment, you were. Normally he felt happy seeing you, but at this moment, he wanted you to go inside.

The ball landed on the cup of milk, splashing it on your toy that you always carried. He felt frozen in place. Rin did what Sae always taught him to do if he got in trouble.

“Run and don’t look back,” and he did just that.

His legs moved as fast as they could and bolted for the ball. Rin’s eyes looked at you almost instinctively. He could see your face—your eyes widened and your jaw dropped like you were witnessing a crime happening. Once he grabbed the ball, he ran like he never did before and went to his home.

The shutting of the door was loud as he closed it, which caused Sae to peek over to see what was happening.

Rin felt his heart beating every moment. It wasn’t a good thrill like he felt when watching horror movies.

“What happened—”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Rin said, heading to his room. His hands were still gripping the ball that had the stain of the milk.

Today was a disaster.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

The next few days he stopped peeking over the window, there was a chance they might make eye contact. He felt the whole world was watching him.

Whenever he saw you outside he’d hurriedly hide like you were the killer on the loose. Rin didn’t know what to do— he couldn’t ask Sae for help, he’d just tease him about it and it would make him a loser in front of him.

He arrived at school, making his way over to his classroom and sat on a seat near the window. Rin had his head on his desk, still not getting over that incident— he prayed nothing else would happen.

But, of course, it did.

From the corner of his eye, he spotted you. Rin recognized that unmistakable hair color caught his attention immediately. You were walking in his direction, He tried to hide his face with his arms but that clearly didn’t work since you were still going straight at him.

The younger Itoshi just braced for what you were about to say. His mind went blank as you kept asking him to apologize and then you mentioned someone named Ms. Moe? Oh, it was your stuffed toy.

Rin just kept denying everything, not wanting to take responsibility and being found guilty.

He went home that day feeling even more worse, Rin just gave up and went to his older brother for guidance.

“Mom and Dad are going to be mad at you for messing with the new neighbour,” Sae said without looking up from his book. His tone was flat, but there was an edge of amusement in it.

“It’s not a big deal,” Rin grumbled.

“Not a big deal? You’re gonna get arrested,” Sae said, his voice laced with mock seriousness.

Rin’s eyes widened. “What?”

“Yeah. There’s a law,” Sae continued, barely suppressing a smirk. “If you mess up someone's toy, you have to replace it. If you don’t, the police will come and take you away.”

Rin stared at him, horrified. Sae wasn’t joking. He never joked, Rin thought to himself.

“...Are you serious?”

“Completely,” Sae deadpanned.

To anyone they would’ve thought Sae was a big fat liar and just said that because he wanted to mess with him but to Rin— his brother was telling the truth since Rin always believed him.

And with that Rin rummaged with his toy box searching for anything in value most of it were just action figures and toy cars.

His eyes fell on an owl plushie that he loved, it was his favorite. It was the only stuffed toy that he had and the other toys didn’t seem like you would like them. It was one of his favorites— but he couldn’t risk getting arrested.

He came to the decision and put it in his school bag along with a mini toy house and a toy car for good measure.

Rin ended up apologizing to you the next day, even when it felt ego crushing for him. You had a wide smile on your face after he gifted you the apology gifts. He felt that unfamiliar warmth spread through his chest again, and this time, it wasn’t unpleasant. Rin forgot his embarrassment as you looked at the plushie.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Rin learned your name from the teacher calling it out for checking attendance. L/N Y/N. He didn’t know why it stuck to him. He’d never cared about someone else’s name before this.

You were like a ghost that's haunting him. But somehow he couldn't be scared of you, not wanting to exorcise you. He didn’t want to care, but there you were— always at the edge of his mind.

School was boring as ever, the lessons felt endless, the teachers were obnoxious, and the other kids were nothing but noise. Rin had always thought it was a waste of time.

But lately, school didn’t feel so intolerable. It wasn’t just the subjects or the lunch breaks— it was you. You’d started talking to him and Rin found himself answering back, he didn’t know why.

Days turned into weeks, and Y/N always seemed to find him during recess or after school (obviously since they live right across the street from each other), chatting about things that he didn’t even make a thought about.

Sometimes, you’d pull him into games with your other friends, even though he said he didn’t like them. Somehow, you’d always made it fun for him.

Rin would never call you a friend— just a person that he tolerated and would never leave him alone. But he didn’t mind it as much as he would.

“Y/N, watch this!” The dark-green haired boy called out one noon, holding up his two action figures.

You turned your attention towards him, and Rin felt a spark of satisfaction.

He rammed his two action figures together like they were in an epic battle, mimicking the sound effects and dramatic crashes. But it was short lived—

Crack!

The two of you froze, staring at the toys now broken in half at the torso.

He shrugged it off, tossing the pieces on the ground aside. “They always break,” he muttered, “it doesn’t matter.”

Instead of moving on, you crouched on the floor and began picking up the broken pieces.

“What are you doing? Just leave them,” Rin said flat but in an almost annoyed way.

“But these are your favorite toys, right? You can’t just leave them behind! Have you ever seen Toy Story?”

“No,” he simply replied, “what’s that?”

And that made you silent for a moment, then your face formed into shock, as if he just admitted guilty to a crime. You went closer to him which made him flinch a little by the proximity, “You have to come over to my house to watch it tomorrow!”

“Alright, alright! Don’t get too close,” Rin scolded, pushing you gently, suddenly aware of their closeness.

You grinned at him, that same bright smile you always had. And Rin felt a strange tug on his chest again— he still wasn’t getting used to it, but it was like his heart was telling something, he didn’t want to understand it.

Why did you always have to smile like that?

That weekend, Rin did end up going to your house. You lived right across the street, so it wasn’t much trouble getting here.

Standing outside, Rin glanced at your front door, hesitating before ringing the doorbell. Seconds later, the door opened, and he saw your mother walking out.

“You must be Mrs. Itoshi’s youngest kid!” Your mother warmly said, her voice is kind and soft. “Y/N’s told me a lot about you lately. Sounds like you two are getting along, maybe you should invite your brother to play with her as well,” Mrs. L/N suggested.

“Good morning, Mrs. L/N,” The dark-green haired boy mustered up to say.

He blinked, surprised. You’ve been talking about him? Rin shifted his weight awkwardly, his teal eyes eyeing at the inside of the house at the distance, searching for you.

Your mother notices the way he kept flickering his gaze past her and smiled knowingly.

You were already on the couch playing with Ms. Moe, clutching the stuffed toy in your arms as you patiently waited.

“N/N-chan, your friend is here!” Your mother called out, and your head shot up at the sound of her voice. The moment you saw Rin, you jumped and ran to and held his hand without hesitation.

“Come on, I want to show you something!” you said excitedly, pulling him towards your room upstairs.

The younger Itoshi let himself be led, his eyes darting towards the interior of your room. It was colorful and cozy, a reflection of you. Toys were scattered messily across the floor, he was taken aback by the amount of toys you had.

Then, he saw them— two familiar action figures propped up on your desk.

“I fixed them,” you announced proudly, noticing his gaze on the newly fixed toys. “Dad helped a little… but— I did most of the work!”

Rin took a step further, picking up the toys carefully this time— fearing it would break again. The cracks were faintly visible, but the pieces together almost perfectly.

He didn’t ask for it to be fixed. He didn’t even think you would. Yet, here they were, good as new.

For a moment he didn’t know what to say. But something in his chest made him feel warm.

“...Thanks,” he muttered under his breath, suppressing a smile. Gripping the toys a bit tighter.

“See? It’s like they’re alive again! Like in Toy story!” You said beaming at him, “Speaking of the movie. Let’s watch it now! And if we have time we can watch the sequel,”

His lips twitched, almost forming a smile, but he quickly brushed it off. “Alright,” he said, following you to the living room.

As you ran ahead, setting up and preparing the movie. He thought to himself, that he is starting to like you more and more and wanted to be more than just playmates at school.

He’s considering calling you his friend from now on.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

You knew it, you were tearing down his cold walls each time you spent together. Rin was getting softer, though he’d never admit it.

Occasionally, he would try to impress, even if he masked it as something else. He’d invite you to his house, put a horror movie on, and be holding a proud smirking as you clung onto him, frightened— while he on the other hand didn’t seem fazed. For someone who acted so indifferent, he seemed to enjoy your attention more than he lets on.

It really did feel like you were making progress in your mission, much quicker than you anticipated. You loved learning about his dreams, passions, and tiny habits that no one else noticed.

As much as you liked learning about him there was one passion that you tried to avoid talking about— Soccer. You had enough of it, since Auntie Anri would be so busy because of it and you barely saw her anymore. You didn’t want it to be the same with Rin as well.

Unfortunately, Rin had different plans for this weekend. He was inviting you to play soccer in the field with his brother.

You sighed as you made your way into the field that he mentioned, kicking a pebble along the path. The faint scent of cherry blossoms drifted in the air, and the sight of trees blooming in soft pink hues lightened your mood. You loved spring— everything feels so alive and vibrant.

Maybe coming here wasn’t such a bad idea. If nothing else, you gotta enjoy the scenery instead of briefly passing it with a car.

As you approached the field, two familiar figures were in the distance, they were the only ones who were playing under the bright sky. Peering at them at the entrance. You saw Rin’s older brother noticed you first, then soon Rin noticed as well and made his way over to you.

“What took you so long?” the younger Itoshi said, laced with concern but tried to conceal it.

“Sorry, Rin,” You said in a shrug with a light and unapologetic tone, “I was just admiring the cherry blossoms while walking— they are very pretty this time of year,” you explained.

His brows furrowed and gave you a small frown but there wasn’t any hint of surprise like he expected this of you. “Whatever, let’s just play.”

As you dropped off your bag on a bench, you noticed Rin’s older brother giving you a few side glances, Rim said that he was here to keep an eye on them. You were still wondering what he meant when he said a few weeks ago. Come to think of it, you didn’t know his name, Rin always referred to him as Nii-chan. You made a mental note to just ask later.

“This is your first time playing soccer, right?” Rin asked, snapping you out of your thoughts and you responded with a nod.

“Isn’t your brother going to play with us?’ You said, eyeing at the reddish-brown boy who was sitting at the bench at the distance.

“He says that he’s just gonna watch us play and to keep an eye on us,” Rin explained.

“Alright,”

You stood there awkwardly in the field, staring at the soccer ball like it was a math equation you didn’t intend on solving. You’ve seen a lot of soccer plays in Auntie Anri’s house whenever she watched TV but weren’t really interested in it.

Maybe you should’ve paid more attention…

It wasn’t that you didn’t wanna play anymore but it was more that you didn’t know how. “What if I’m bad at this?” you asked worryingly.

“...then I’ll teach you,” Rin said, a bit more softer than usual, but you didn’t notice too focused on the ball at your feet.

You took a deep breath, mentally preparing yourself. “I’m ready,”

“Took you long enough,” Rin spoke out, tossing the ball at your feet. You flinched trying to move away at first then realising you needed to stop it, it even barely stopped at time— your feet stumbling a bit.

“You’re supposed to control it, not run away from it,” he added, suppressing a laugh but it still slipped out.

Maybe you should’ve just stayed at home, but spending time with Rin is gonna make him want to be friends with you so you’re gonna endure it.

“Alright, first thing’s first” Rin said, taking it back and placing the ball in front of you. “Just try to pass it back to me.” he demonstrated, nudging the ball with a clean motion that sent it rolling back to him. “You know, like that,”

What…?

You stood there awkwardly. You needed directions, not just some vague demonstrations from him. Your brows furrowed looking at the ball that he just passed back to you, still trying to figure out what he meant.

“Can you do that again?” you asked, your voice laced with confusion.

“No,” he replied bluntly, “I already gave you clear directions,”

Yeah, clear as mud. You wanted to say out loud but held your tongue

You mimicked his motion, your foot grazing the ball gently. It didn’t go far, but it was clearly not smooth. It rolled a little, stirring off to the side.

“that sucked,” catching it with his foot effortlessly. “Try again, but with more power,” Rin replied.

You couldn’t help but wonder if Rin’s idea of “clear directions” was somehow different from yours, because nothing about this felt like it was making sense.

You should never let Rin teach you or other people things. He is way too fast, too impatient, and never lets you catch up and expects you to do it perfectly.

At first you were struggling to control the ball, your passes were too soft or veering off to the side. But somehow, despite Rin’s disastrous excuse for teaching, you managed to figure it out.

The ball started going where you wanted it to, your kicks were more smoother and more confident— though still far from perfection, but at least you were making progress.

Rim blinked as you sent a sharp pass back to him, “Are you sure you’ve never played before?” he asked, narrowing his eyes in suspicion.

“If I had, I wouldn’t be here, being taught by you,” you shot back, narrowing your eyes back at him.

“Then let’s see if you can get the ball past me and score a goal,” Rin said, planting himself firmly in front of the goal. “Just try to kick anywhere but straight at me.”

You frowned, lining up your shot. With an exaggerated swing of your leg, you sent the ball rolling… directly into Rin’s shin. He winced, rubbing the spot.

Your hand was covering your mouth, shocked. You went over to see if he was alright, “—I’m fine, it wasn’t a bullet.” The younger Itoshi pushed your hand away gently. “But I said pass me, not through me,” he grumbled.

“Alright, let’s try again,” Rin spoke out, dusting his shin. Kicking the soccer ball back to you, you stopped it with the bottom of your foot instead of running away this time.

You charged forward, the ball still wobbling. Rin was right in front of you, his intense gaze locked into your movements, planting himself firmly.

You bit your lip, unsure what to do. You faked a kick to the side— though it was unintentional, more like you were off balance— and Rin stepped to block it. In your panic you accidently connected the ball, sending it in the opposite direction. The ball zipped past him and into the net.

There was a long silence between you too as you stared at the ball sitting steadily at the net.

“I scored?” you asked in disbelief, you were contemplating how you were able to do that.

Rin frowned looking at you, his brows furrowed. “That doesn’t count,” he said, though you could see the slightest tint of red in his cheeks.

“Nu-uh, it totally counts!” You retorted, throwing your arms in the air triumphantly.

“You didn’t even mean to do that,” Rin grumbled. He avoided your eyes, muttering in his breath.

You then picked up the ball and tilted your head, a teasing grin displayed on your face, “Aw, is Rin-chan mad I beat him in his own game?”

“We’re going home it’s late anyways,” he said curtly, he wasn’t wrong the sky was getting dark, time really did fly by. You looked at him again, already walking towards the bench where your bag and his brother was.

You couldn’t help but laugh, jogging to catch up with him, “don’t be such a sore loser! I’m a fast learner, you know.”

Rin stopped, glancing over shoulder with a glare that lacked its usual sharpness, “Next time, you’re not gonna get past me,” he said, but there was a small yet unmistakable smirk on his face.

“You’re actually smiling! Does that mean we’re friends now?” you said with a smug grin, wrapping your arms around his shoulder.

“As if,” he said, his tone more softer than usual, and he avoided your gaze.

When you made your way home, you couldn’t help but think about Rin’s older brother. He still hadn’t spoken a word to you, his cool and distant demeanor creating an air of mystery around him.

Despite his aloofness, it was clear how much influence he had over Rin. The younger Itoshi practically lit up when Sae was around, even if Rin would never admit it outright.

Once you arrived at your house, you and Rin went your separate ways. You practically sprinted through the door, eager to collapse on your bed and recover from all the physical activity. Your legs felt like jelly, and you couldn’t wait to unwind after such an eventful day.

But just as you kicked off your shoes and started to relax, a faint tug of memory nagged at you. Something felt off, like you were forgetting something important.

The answer came when your hand brushed against a familiar round object. You froze, staring down at the soccer ball still in your grasp. A groan escaped your lips as realization hit you—you’d accidentally taken their ball home with you.

With a resigned sigh, you slipped your shoes back on and headed to the Itoshi residence. The walk was short, but the weight of the ball in your hands felt like a constant reminder of your blunder.

Once you reached their doorstep, you stood on your tiptoes to reach the doorbell. A soft chime echoed through the house, and moments later, the door swung open.

Standing in the doorway was a woman with reddish-brown hair, her kind eyes softening as she looked down at you. “Hello, sweetheart,” she greeted warmly.

You straightened up, offering a polite smile. “Good evening, Mrs. Itoshi.”

Her expression brightened further. “Ah, Y/N, aren’t you the one Rin’s been spending so much time with? He’s been in such a good mood lately, and I have you to thank for that. You’re welcome here anytime,” she said, giving your head a gentle pat.

The sudden physical affection caught you off guard, and you froze slightly, unsure how to react. “Thank you, Mrs. Itoshi,” you managed, your voice small.

She smiled at your politeness but quickly added, “You should get along with Sae as well.” Her tone was casual, but there was a hint of encouragement in her words.

You congratulate yourself since you didn’t have to embarrassingly ask Rin what his brother’s name was even though you’ve seen him a bunch of times now.

“He’s been struggling with his English recently, and I heard from your mother that it’s your first language. Would you mind helping him out sometime?”

You hesitated, feeling a bit overwhelmed by the sudden request, but you nodded. “Alright, Mrs. Itoshi. I’ll try my best.”

Her relief was almost palpable. “Thank you, sweetie. You’re a lifesaver.”

You handed her the soccer ball, watching as she cradled it with care. “Rin must have forgotten this. I’ll make sure he gets it back.”

With a final pat on your head, she bid you goodnight, leaving you to head home once more.

As you walked back, your thoughts swirled. One Itoshi brother was already a challenge to befriend, but now you had to crack two tough shells? Double trouble was an understatement.

Still, you figured it wouldn’t be so bad. Rin admired Sae a lot, and getting along with him might even earn you some extra points with your stubborn friend.

But that was a problem for another day. For now, all you wanted to do was snuggle with Ms. Moe and enjoy some much-needed rest.

And as you closed the door behind you, you couldn’t help but smile. Somehow, this day had turned out pretty great.

Taglist .𖥔 ݁ @danhoneyyysblog @nana7nana777 @levihanmyotp

[shigarakisdumbwhore]

The Visit - Todoroki x Reader

A/N: this has been sitting in my drafts since FEBRUARY 21, 2022 Y'ALL. why did I wait so long omg

Summary: Your ex, Todoroki, visits you in the hospital after a traumatic car accident.

Warnings: mentions of car crash, hospital, angst, hurt/comfort ig

Words: 735

"Did you only come because it reminds you of the guilt from your mommy?"

You had heard the door open and looked over. It only took you a second before you realized who it was. He wasn't even out of his school uniform yet. His hair was glued slick to his forehead with sweat and his jacket was around his waist, dress shirt barely tucked in and wrinkled.

He didn't say anything, not even a reaction, as he made his way over. He didn't ask to take the seat next to you, probably didn't care what you wanted anyway. He appeared to be on a mission. His face was expressionless and too blank to read.

"No."

The answer was so simple and short. There was little to no emotion behind it, but it was comforting to you. It made you think about how he came here all by himself, despite knowing how snippy you could be. Todoroki wasn't completely innocent. He had his moments where he could be disrespectful, you both did. However, he knew he would have to deal with it upon arriving at the hospital and he did it anyway. Even though you two believed the relationship was far behind, there were still some lingering feelings. A part of you wished you'd never see him again and the other part was glad he came.

An awkward silence was instilled between the both of you. You looked out straight again, too hurt to look at his face once again. The memories of how he made you feel still lingered fresh in your mind. Looking at him would only bring them back, and that would do you no good.

"What are you watching?" Your gaze focused on the laptop in front of you, sitting on the rolling desk that hovered above you. Your friends and family came to visit as often as they could, but during the hours they couldn't it was lonely. You asked to keep your laptop available so you could play games or watch movies. The one Shoto was asking about happened to be your favorite, one you felt giddy about when someone asked. You couldn't help yourself. As soon as he asked, you answered with excitement. A long ramble filled the silence. It was just like old times.

For the first time in a long time, he was smiling at you. It was a small smile, a Todoroki type of smile. You never saw Endeavor with a big grin so you assumed it was a family thing. Regardless, it was an image that lived in your mind with vivid detail. Then it hit.

Upon this realization, you turned to look at him with a wide grin, but it began to fade when you noticed his did too. It must've clicked at the same time. The two of you were always known for having synchronized minds. Old times. They were called old times for a reason.

"I'm sor-"

"Please, just," you interrupted, "let's just... pretend none of that happened, like we're still together, like we're happy... please."

Shoto sat in silence as he stared at you. His face was so hard to read. So blank and emotionless, but you knew a million things were going on in his mind. You could only imagine what could have been running through his head.

"I never wanted to leave. Things were so complicated with school and my father... I took that out on you and for that, I'm sorry. I'm sorry it took your injury for me to figure that out. I promise, when you recover, if you give me a chance, I'll do better." His tone was sweet and sincere. Shoto never really had any reason to lie and he usually was very loyal to his word. But the hurt that he caused you, was this apology enough to just forgive him so easily? To forget everything before and act like it never happened, like it never bothered you. Like it still didn't bother you.

Despite all of it, you still loved him. That's why it still hurt. That's why you still held on. And that's why you secretly felt so relieved when he walked through that door like he traveled through hell just to see you.

"I missed you... I missed you every day you were gone."

"I know," he stood up and pulled you into his arms tightly. "This time, I'll make it right. I love you."

[cappuccinoandglitter]

I haven't been to Faire in a hot minute but here's an attempt. This took longer than it had to because I had a cat on my face. Apologies for any typos that may have escaped.

"So what inspired the name, The Thirsty Siren?" Sir Evan asked, glancing up at the wooden sign hanging above the entrance to Tommy's tavern. He noticed Evan slipping out of character, dropping the faux British accent for his natural speech.

Tommy followed Evan's gaze up to the sign. "Oh, that was there before I took over, I just never bothered to change it." Tommy never does accents, he's terrible at it, and he's not an actual character so he's not actually required. Evan, on the other hand, could get in trouble if one of the directors catch him. It'd probably be all right as long as he doesn't talk to any of the guests.

"Ah, oh-okay," Evan said, fidgeting with his helmet. "Anyway, it's, almost joust time, uhm, so..." He glanced around, taking in the busy path, filled with actors, guests in period-accurate garb, and a trio of people dressed in Star Trek uniforms. The Faire gets at least one of those each season. Tommy unashamedly loves seeing them.

Tommy could hear the pipe and drum band whose name he could never remember playing on the Globe stage. He knew once they were done, it would be time for the joust to start. And once the joust was done, it would be the end of the day and time to shut down for the night.

Evan was still standing there, the sunshine catching the highlights in his curls and giving his cheeks a rosy glow. Tommy didn't have trouble imagining him on the cover of a fantasy novel, standing with his sword and shield, fighting a dragon. "Do you ever--" Evan started, glancing at Tommy from behind beautifully long eyelashes. "You ever watch the joust?"

"At least once," Tommy said, smiling.

Evan looked at him fully, red lips pulled back fully into a grin. "You should, ah, you should come watch."

"Who are you fighting this time?" Tommy asked. He probably should already know this, but he couldn't remember what the plot was supposed to be this season. As a vendor, it wasn't Tommy's job to keep track.

"Those dastardly Spaniards," Evan said, in the British accent.

"Exciting, maybe I will go."

"Huzzah!" Evan said, gave a little bow, then put his helmet back on.

Tommy walked back into the tavern, which was still busy. "You good for the next hour or so, Howie?" he asked his business partner behind the bar.

"Yeah! Everything under control! You go watch the hot knights," Howie said with a wink.

Tommy grinned at his hold friend and pointed a finger at him. "Yeah, see ya later."

He wandered the grounds, past the human chess board, the axe throwing place, and Craftmen's Alley and Ye Olde Food Court. A minstrel plays his fiddle on the way down the path to the jousting field. The smells of turkey legs, incense, and those amazing fried potato wedges Tommy eats too many of.

He paused when the Queen's Court passed by on the way to the field, but his eyes were drawn not to her majesty but to one particular knight following close behind. For a moment, Evan's eyes met Tommy's and he winked.

Tommy followed the procession and found a seat at the front. He never came to these, really, so if he was going to take the time, he was going to get a good view.

That's how Sir Evan found him, when the knights were riding their horses around the field, being introduced by the emcee.

To be continued because I'm sleepy.

Renaissance faire meet cute between tavern owner Tommy ("I brewed this ale myself") and a knight ("Sir Evan" he introduces himself as; only later does Tommy hear "Buck" but it's too late, he's registered that cute knight with the bisexual color flag as Evan in his head)

A couple of drunk faire attendants try to harass Tommy's friend's teen daughter and he steps in, and Buck steps in too. Two big strapping guys tend to convince people to back off, especially when one is built like a tank and the other is literally armored

Tommy gives Buck a free mug of ale, and they talk, and throughout the day Buck keeps coming back to the tavern and Tommy watches Buck at the joust

And instead of a girl's handkerchief as a favor, Buck takes the checkered handkerchief in Tommy's apron as his favor and ties it around his wrist

Buck wins the joust and canters over, hopping down to wink at Tommy, then kissing the piece of cloth around his wrist. Tommy can't help leaning over the fence to kiss Sir Evan for real.

[synthaphone]

@pinkpalmingo @atapi wahhh thank you so much for the thoughtful asks; i really appreciate it!!! its really neat to hear an outside perspective on what makes my art distinctive- i often have trouble picking out what might stand out about it, myself

@rustedmoose

ITS BEEN 14 YEARS!!!!!!!!!!!

[inkskinned]

you said you were stuck in a time loop, which was fine. i feel like late-stage capitalism has us all in a time loop, ammiright? you came barging in at 5:33. in the morning. i hadn't even processed the idea of coffee.

but you had this look of utter panic in your eyes. terror like the ocean. you grabbed my cheeks. im in a time loop.

i don't know why in movies the first reaction is to deny it. when someone is panicking like that, it's not appropriate to ask them to calm down. it didn't matter if i believed it, what mattered was that you believed it so much that it was consuming you.

so here we are. i pour you some of the dark roast. "you look like utter and entire hell," i say.

you push your fingers into your eyes. "you always say that."

i try to think of something funny to say that i wouldn't have said on previous time loops, but jokes don't land without the proper timing (lol). "remind me to think -"

"-yeah, of a joke that only works in the future. and before you say anything, i know you're pissed i just stole your punchline." you bolt the coffee, which is wild. it's very hot. you don't seem to notice.

i blow on mine to cool it down. i both am very pissed at you and also i can't see you in this amount of panic without wanting to help. but i'm also not really sure what we are, not since i saw you kiss her like that, no offense. it just was like, kind of rude when you knew i liked you.

and besides. i'm just like, barely a person. i write omegaverse fanfiction. i love the concept of a time loop, but what the fuck am i gonna do? send an alpha in there? i open my mouth.

you point at me. "you're about to ask why me. and then say some disparaging shit about yourself. i'm just a nerd who plays dnd or something. that self-own is slightly different each time." you sigh. "i know you think you can't really help me. i don't know who can help me. i only came to you because you fucking believe me." you check your watch, sigh, and throw your head back. you cover your eyes with one hand. "i've come here on 26 separate revolutions," you say. "you have believed me every time. and yeah, i have no idea how you fit into this but i just -" you sigh again. "i just like fucking talking to someone about it."

"do you need more cof-" i start, but you're already holding the empty cup out. i frown at it. "you're not getting any more until you promise not to bolt this one like an animal."

you laugh a little and sit up, pushing your hair out of your face. "okay, that's new dialogue. but to be fair to you, i'm not usually this rude. i'm still pretty new at all of this." you check your watch again. another sigh. i guess you're cruising for a personal best in the Sigh Olympics.

i almost tell you im not an NPC but i've played enough video games to know i'm very much an NPC. i pour you another cup. "so what happens in the loop?"

"really bad explosion." you mutter into the mug. you put your elbows on the table (rude) and bury your face in your arms like an angsty teenager. one hand floats up while you talk, because evidently you literally can't talk without your hands. "i have to save the day and there's this bomb and i have no bomb training and it keeps moving, you know."

"do i die?"

you peek up from your arms. "yeah. bigtime. you keep trying to run or stay or do anything and you always super die."

"oh."

"to be fair, like, everyone dies in it though.... so you're in good company."

i hate that you make me laugh. i hate that being around you always feels tingly and strange, this electric tension between us. something that is evidently (given how you stuck your tongue down a stranger's throat literally 3 days ago) (well. 3 for me) super one-sided. i take a sip of my coffee and close my eyes.

i die today, i guess. a little spark of panic starts at the top of my hands and starts whipping up my wrists.

"shit," you say. you look at your watch and jump to your feet. "i have to go. if i can come back, i will. i am still trying to figure out when is best to do everything, you know? the order of stuff. maybe morning isn't good for us."

i look up at you and think about how you keep kissing me in the back of my car and in alleyways and in the dark. and i can never fucking get a read on you. and i also think about how incredibly panicked you look. how broken. how long have you been doing this? "i don't want to die," i say.

you glance downwards. "well, you're not really dead, you'll come back in the loop."

"but i will have died." my hands are shaking. i am trying really hard to stay calm.

you push your hands through your hair again. "i really have to go. i will have this discussion with the next version of you, though. it is like, something i am thinking about."

"but i don't get a next version," i say. i don't really have the language for this, because i haven't had 26 tries with you. i only have my memories: you, a week ago. drunk and telling me you loved me in my ear. you, kissing her anyway. you, months ago, throwing up on my birthday, whispering to me i ruin everything i touch, always, over and over. please don't ask. i can't ever fucking have that be you.

i run my finger along the rim of the mug. "i don't want to die in this one."

you seem baffled by this. "i get that but - time will reset, you'll be fine, you won't even remember we talked about this."

"but i know now." i stand up too. "i have to live the rest of this day knowing i could die. knowing i probably am going to."

"you could always die, to be fair."

i feel my hands get out of control. "earlier, you said i always say a different insult about myself. what if you're just going through different parallel universes and those are all just different - but real - versions of myself? what if you're not in a time loop, you're in a fucking universe loop?"

"if it helps, i've wondered this too. also, you're hot in all of them. if that helps."

i point at you. "no flirting. i'm trying to figure out if i die today."

"who's flirting?" you catch my wild hands and give me that long, perfect smile. like we're in this together. "i won't let ya die." you check your watch and sigh again. "well. maybe not this time."

i grit my teeth. you are so not making quips at me while i try to explain the existential dread i'm having. "does the time loop reset if i fucking kill you?"

"honestly i don't know how long it continues after i die, because i just wake up. it could be that the loop goes until the explosion for everyone, and we're all in the loop, or it could be that when i die, the loop restarts. when i die i wake up, is all."

i pull away from you and stalk into the kitchen and start doing all 3 of my dishes. "okay, first, you know i was joking. and secondly, this is exactly my point. you don't know if this is just a parallel universe. maybe in the ones where you died, the explosion happened and nobody reset and it's just you travelling." i have to stop and push the heel of my palm into my eyeball. "... how often have you died?"

i look at you. you look at me. you give me this very sad, halfway smile and a little what can ya do shrug. something in that action seems so old and weary that i want to burst into tears.

"i have to go," you say. "really. for real. there's this family of five i save from getting into a car crash. and i know it's like oh but we're all gonna die in the explosion anyway, what's the point. and..." you shrug again. "it matters to me, is all. at least i saved them for now. at least i saved anything."

you pad over to me and wrap me in a tight hug. you always seem so tall against me. i feel your cheek rest against the top of my head for a moment. for a second, it's just us, and the space is warm, and my heart is a little broken hare.

you leave me there, and i stand in my stupid badly lit kitchen with my stupid mugs. i think about you. i start texting my mom that she needs to get out of the city, but it feels pointless.

i don't know what to do. tomorrow is the same day for you. but i have to prepare to die in my today.

[happy74827]

Joyride

[Wade Wilson x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: Remember kids, always look at the road when driving. It can help you avoid certain blabber mouths 🫶

WC: 2556

Category: Fluff, Annoying!Deadpool, 4th Wall Breaks, Insane Amounts of Profanity {TW: Deadpool (for obvious reasons)}

In honor of watching Deadpool 3 (super good btw), enjoy this random chaotic fic I created with the help of @yoursacredqueenmother. This is super chaotic lmfao

『••✎••』

Shit. Shit. Shit. SHIT.

A millisecond ago, you were driving down a street. In the middle of traffic. At a red light. Now, you were panicking, looking over the front of your car for the flash of red you had just seen. It took a couple of seconds for you to realize that there was blood on your car and on the ground—a lot of blood.

"Oh, shit. Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit, oh shit!"

You quickly hopped out of the car, rushing to the spot you thought the person… or thing would be, but… there was nobody. There was blood on the ground but nobody.

Did you hit a deer, and it just… ran off? No, that can't be right. You definitely saw something red, and it most certainly was not a deer.

You looked around, confused. How the hell does something bleed all over the ground and then disappear without a trace?!

You got back in your car, deciding to drive to the closest police station. Maybe they knew something about this.

So, you decided to abandon the shortcut home and drive to the nearest police station, which happened to be just down the road. But as you were minutes into the drive, you felt the sudden urge to look in your rearview mirror.

And there you found your mysterious red-suited victim in the backseat, holding the biggest knife you have ever seen as his white-covered eyes stared at you from behind the mask.

You never hit the brakes faster in your life. The car made an ugly screeching sound, and the sudden force slammed the red-clad man into the back of your seat, making him let out a surprised yelp.

The car finally came to a stop, and the masked man recovered quickly, pushing himself off of your seat and glaring at you.

"Well, aren’t you just a heart break—"

He didn’t get the chance to finish his sentence.

You grabbed your keys from the ignition and popped off the attached pepper spray, turning around and squirting him in the face. He let out a scream, and you quickly got out of the car, shutting the door and running as fast as you could.

Unfortunately, you didn’t get very far. Despite being hit by a car, and subsequently getting pepper sprayed, the man (or what you assume to be) caught up with you and blocked your path, his hands on his hips, his head cocked to the side.

"Alright, lady, what the fuck?" He asked, his voice sounding nasally, most likely because of the spray.

You stared at him, confused. He looked like he was waiting for an explanation.

"W-What the fuck?! What the fuck me? What the fuck you!" You exclaimed, your voice cracking a little. "What the fuck are you doing in my car?!"

"Well, I was trying to hitch a ride! But clearly, that didn't work out. Thanks a lot, by the way, for the pain and suffering. You’ve really opened up my horizons here."

It almost sounded like he was pouting.

"What the—! A ride?! Why in the hell would you just hop into someone's car?!"

"Uhh, because you ran me over, genius! I mean, come on, the least you could do is offer a guy a ride home after that. And then, the cherry on top of the fucking sundae: pepper spray!"

The masked man, so to speak, threw his arms up in the air, and you could almost see him rolling his eyes underneath the mask. Of course, that’s when you noticed the obvious broken bones in his hands. And the blood. There was a lot of blood.

"Look," the guy started, walking closer to you. "I know, I'm a big scary guy with a big scary knife and a bad temper and all, and you’re just… well, I’m sure you have an amazing personality, but how about we put all that aside, and you give me a ride, alright? Just drop me off at the corner of 10th and 55th, and you can forget this ever happened."

"Your arm… your wrist. It's broken," you told him.

"Yeah, no shit," the man scoffed. "Got any Taylor Swift CDs in that car?"

"Uh… no, not really. Why?"

"Cause, baby, I’m Shaking It Off!"

There was a pregnant pause, and you weren't quite sure if he was being serious or not. I mean, surely he wasn’t about to just ignore the fact that his arm was the complete opposite of norm—

But when he shook his arm in a violent manner, and a loud crack followed suit, you realized, with a heavy heart, that yes, this guy was serious.

What you didn’t know until a few seconds later, however, was that he snapped his bones back into place like it was nothing. It took the flexing in his fingers to realize it, too.

"Holy shit." You truly were in awe.

He seemed to find amusement in your expression, tilting his head slightly and giving you a once-over. And, yes, you could feel his eyes on you, and for some reason, it sent a shiver down your spine.

"So… Wendy Torrance, about that ride? Can you give me a lift, or are we gonna start that chick flick moment where your mental breakdown leads to slow-motion running to a Sia song?"

You could only stare.

"Alright, well, if you're going through with the latter, then at least play something that doesn’t involve that little dancing girl who likes to wear potato sacks as clothes."

You couldn’t believe this was happening.

"You are literally insane." You breathed out, shaking your head.

Even if you couldn’t see it, something told you that he made the biggest grin underneath his mask.

"Why, thank you, darling."

Fast forward a couple of minutes, and you found yourself driving towards the address the red-suited stranger had given you. You couldn’t really make conversation. He had his hands in his lap, playing with a knife, and was staring at you, his head tilted.

"You can blink, you know. I'm not a zombie," he informed you, making a gesture to his mask and eyes, which you assumed he was blinking underneath.

"Right," you nodded.

“Well, mostly, at least. I mean, I still have a pulse, but it's kind of irregular, and I think it's because I keep getting shot and stabbed in the heart. Oh, and I guess I'm also pretty much immortal, so that's probably the reason. But I think the whole not-dying thing cancels out the heartbeat thing, right? Like, the more times you get impaled or decapitated or set on fire, the more it doesn’t matter because it doesn’t affect you anymore, am I right?"

You glanced at him. He was staring at you, his hands still and his knife resting on his leg.

"…Do you ever shut up?"

"Woah-hoho, feisty. And here I thought I was going to break the ice with a good ol' fashioned knock knock joke."

"I don’t think that would've been funny."

"That's what the last girl said."

"Oh yeah?"

"Mhm. Except she wasn’t talking about the joke. I made her laugh in a different way."

You glanced at him again, and he was giving you a knowing look.

"I can't decide if you're disgusting or not."

He hummed, shrugging his shoulders. That made him shut his mouth just long enough for you to turn on the radio but not long enough to avoid the inevitable.

"Hey, hey, I got a good one: Knock knock."

You let out a long sigh, closing your eyes. "Who's there?"

"Orange."

"Orange, who?"

"Orange you glad I'm not a serial killer?"

"That wasn’t even good."

"I know. It would've been better if I could've pulled the knife out of my belt. You know, just for show." He twiddled his fingers at you.

"That wouldn’t have helped," you said.

"Nope," he agreed. "But it would've made a great story."

"I suppose."

"Yeah. Hey, hey, I got another one: Knock knock."

"You just—"

"Knock knock."

You let out a huff. This man was the most childish, annoying, idiotic, strange, weird—

"Knock knock."

"Oh, just fucking tell me the joke!"

"No! It doesn't work that way!"

You rolled your eyes, but before you could answer, he beat you to it.

"Okay, okay, how about this: Knock knock."

You didn't say anything.

"Knock knock."

Your eyes flickered over to him for a second.

"Knock knock."

"For fucks sake!" You exclaimed. "Who's there?"

He leaned forward, closer to you, and you could see his mouth moving.

"Deadpool."

You were confused.

"D-Deadpool? Is this a reference to that shitty horror movie? If so, that wasn't even good, and I'm not laughing, and I don't get the joke."

He just gave you a blank look, or at least you thought he did.

"No. My name's Deadpool."

"That’s…" you trailed off. "A pretty dumb name. Like that outfit you're wearing."

"Hey! Diss the name all you want, but don’t you dare diss the suit. It's my trademark. Not everyone can pull off this type of look; it’s a very rare art."

"Whatever. You still haven't told me the punch line to your dumb joke."

"Punch line? I never said there was a punch line. It was a knock knock joke."

"So then… What was the point? To annoy the driver into wanting to run you over again?"

He chuckled, a low, deep sound that vibrated in his throat. That… That was… oh.

He was still close, and now, with the new angle, you could see the small, yet very visible, curve of his lips, and that made you wonder who was actually hiding behind the mask.

"You are seriously the strangest person I've ever met."

"Oh, babe, you don't even know the half of it."

"Please, enlighten me," you replied sarcastically, glancing over at him.

His masked eyes looked into yours, and you knew he was grinning; you could practically feel it.

"What do you wanna know?" He asked.

"Uh, I don't know. Something other than the fact that you're a nutcase. How about your real name? It's obviously not 'Deadpool,' and I doubt anyone actually calls you that. So, what's your actual name?"

"Oh, wow. Right off the bat, huh? You know, the last girl I was with wasn’t nearly as direct. Then again, she never sprayed me like I was a roach in her kitchen."

You didn’t respond. You kept your eyes on the road.

"Fine," he relented. "But don’t expect a happy ending. This isn’t Kanas anymore, Toto."

He leaned back in his seat, his arm hanging off the open window, the wind blowing through his red suit.

"Names Wade, like the boxers, but without the fancy pants."

You raised an eyebrow.

"Wade Winston Wilson, I love long walks on the beach, and a good movie, and tacos, and chimichangas, and guns. Especially guns. Kinky, but not too kinky… and did I mention the tacos? Cause I love fucking love tacos."

Maybe you should start carrying tape around.

"What about you, sugar lips?" He asked, gesturing to you with the hand he wasn’t leaning against. "Got a name, or can I call you mine? Ooh, I should’ve used that before the pepper spray. 'What's your name, or can I call you mine?' Classic, Wade. Well, except for the fact that I forgot the 'I'd like to hit it from the back' part. Damn, should have used that, too. It's a good thing they gave you the lead. Otherwise, the audience would've been confused. They would've been wondering, 'Why did the writer suddenly change the dialogue to be about sex? Wasn’t this supposed to be that pure Notebook love story we all wanted?'"

He paused for a moment.

"Wait a minute. Are we still doing the monologue thing, or is the writer done? Cause, no offense, but that was a shitty transition. And, come on, no one wants a Notebook love story anymore. Who writes those? What we need is a little romance and a whole lotta smut."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Me? Nothing, just giving some feedback. I've always had an open relationship with writers. Some might even call me the next J.K Rowling. Except, instead of a lighting scar and magic, I have an ass load of weapons with an insatiable lust for violence and blood. And tacos."

You decided to ignore him.

"Anyway, back to you. You never answered my question. Do you have a name or not?"

"I can’t believe I actually agreed to give you a ride home."

"Yeah," he said, sounding bored. "Why did you do that?"

"I don’t know. Because I hit you with my car and felt bad? You had a broken arm and were bleeding out all over the ground."

"First sign of insanity."

"What?"

"Nothing," his mask wiggled around the area of his eyebrows. "So, your name? Don’t tell me you’re gonna pull out the classic yes and no abbreviations. You know what? I’m just gonna call you Spidey. It's easier, and it’ll sound sexier when you're screaming it later."

You rolled your eyes, deciding just to ignore his comments for the rest of the drive. You were wishing that you didn't live in a city full of traffic cause, damn, this was taking a while.

"Alright, turn here."

You followed the directions and pulled up in front of an abandoned-looking building. You didn't say anything, but you did raise an eyebrow in question.

"What? A guy like me has to keep his place secret, especially when the fangirls are after him."

"I didn’t ask."

"Yeah, but I saw you wondering."

"Right."

"Hey, Spidey," he said, unbuckling his seat belt. "Thanks for the ride."

"No problem. Just make sure to keep your ass away from car bumpers. And out of my car."

"Awe, come on, baby cakes, don't be like that. You're really missing out. My ass is the finest in the business. Not to mention my package. You should see the reviews I get online."

You snorted. "I'll take your word for it."

"Yeah, you will," he said, leaning over and patting your cheek. "Hey, if you ever get lonely, or bored, or horny, or whatever, just give me a call. Here," he handed you a crumpled piece of paper. "Don't lose it, that's my number. We should totally bang, like, tomorrow, or tonight, or right now."

"Goodbye, Wade," you said, and he took it as his cue to leave. He gave a silly salute and exited the car, but not without giving you a wink first.

"See you soon, Spidey!"

With that, he walked up to the building and disappeared inside. With a sigh, you collapsed into the seat, not even bothering to watch him. You were exhausted, and all you wanted was to go home and sleep.

After a couple of minutes of relishing the nice breeze that came through the open windows, you sat up and un-crinkled the paper.

The only thing written on it was a phone number, with a small, messy, red heart and a few words that honestly had you questioning the sanity of the world:

'If you're lucky, maybe I'll even let you top. ;)'

——

Spoiler alert: it took about a month for the two of you to hook up.

And no, you did not have Domino’s luck.

[motomamita]

fugitive!könig × naive!farmer!reader

warnings: smut, +18, no condom, innocence kink, breeding kink, baby trapping, virginity loss, female reader, dub-con!!

fugitive!könig who managed to escape the law, after committing several crimes, and now travels throughout the country hiding his identity.

On one of his many trips he ends up arriving at a small town, almost lost in time, where its few inhabitants live off their animal farms and orchards. Apparently no one had televisions, and the few radios only broadcast music that was overshadowed by static. This ensured that no one there would be able to recognize him and gave him the opportunity to stay and rest for a few hours.

Tired of walking and extremely hungry, König sat down in a small cafe to have a drink. The people around him looked at him strangely, not only because they didn't know him but also because of his intimidating appearance. His back was broad, he had long legs, and the muscles in his arms were noticeable even though he was wearing a wind jacket that covered him. However, no one seemed to be bothered by his presence, the people there loved tourists and König seemed completely like one.

When it was time to pay, he noticed that he had ordered and consumed more than he could afford. He was about to offer some of his "camping" knives in exchange for the money he was missing until a figure approached him.

"Don't worry if you don't have the money to pay." you spoke with a sweet voice and doing everything possible so that Konig would not feel embarrassed. "I sell the fruits to the owner of the place so I'm sure I can reach an agreement with him."

König was fascinated by you. Not only because of your timely friendliness but also your very natural and almost unique appearance that was very difficult to find in other places. You were wearing a jean gardener, some comfortable shoes and you were carrying a basket that minutes ago was full of fruits and vegetables from your garden. König looked down, somewhat shy and not knowing how to react to you, the truth is that during his escape he had not met many friendly people.

"Don't worry, I'm not going to ask you for anything in return." You smiled when you saw that no words came out of his mouth. "Here we greatly appreciate tourists and travelers, after all they are the ones who keep this small town from turning into a ghost town."

You invited König to take refuge in your small house for as long as he needed before leaving again for another place. König accepted, surprised at your remarkable naivety in letting a complete stranger into your house and providing him with all the care.

When he arrived, you showed him where the shower was and what his room would be where he could rest. You left a clean change of clothes on his bed and selflessly went off to make dinner. Once he cleaned, König followed the delicious smell and came to the kitchen where you were on your back stirring a large pot of what seemed to be a stew. You were so focused that you didn't notice the presence of the big man behind you. he thought about how easy it would be to cut your neck with one of those long knives you had there. But the idea quickly disappeared when you turned around and a wide smile formed on your face when you saw him.

That stew was the best he had tasted in a long time, so much so that he served himself 3 plates, leaving you totally pleased. The next morning, König didn't really know exactly what to do. He could stay one more night and wake up in the middle of the night to raid your entire home, even leave after having a trip with you. He was hesitant, and that hesitation turned into doubt when you offered to cut his hair and trim his long beard, which he accepted.

That same afternoon König sat down to drink a lemonade made by you while he watched you harvest super large, red strawberries from a distance. He fixed his gaze on the way your pants hugged your butt in a tempting way and how you hummed a melody quietly that he couldn't make out. A tingling appeared in König's tummy and he suddenly noticed an erection growing inside his pants. You looked so pretty, so innocent. It was obvious from afar that you didn't kill a fly and that your care for him was sincere.

The days passed and König seemed to have no intention of leaving, that didn't bother you at all. Now he helped you with the heavy work on the farm, carrying large amounts of hay on his shoulder and feeding the animals. His favorite activity was watching you milk the cows, fantasizing about your hands and the way the milk dripped from them.

His approaches to you intensified, taking advantage of the slightest opportunity to touch you or rub against you. he soon discovered that you had no idea about any sexual activity, acting confused at his double meaning words and insinuations. You were the perfect muse to fulfill all his fantasies without anyone being able to stop him.

Your parents had died a long time ago, leaving you alone in charge of the big farm and all the obligations of the adult world. That led König to think that life on that farm couldn't be bad. He knew how to handle hard work well and you did everything you could to teach him and please him. The idea of ​​starting from scratch, with you there, totally convinced him.

You were a healthy, hard-working woman and you needed someone like konig with you. But König needed to have something that would force you to keep him there with you, forever and that would confirm the mutual love that you both had to give each other. That's when he found the solution: he had to get you pregnant.

That afternoon he made a point that you wouldn't leave the stable until you were full of his cum. He started by complimenting your dress and how pretty that color looked on you. Then the caresses that increased in intensity until he managed to let you be carried away by him and his carnal desire. Now he had you under him, with your skirt up and your underwear hanging from one of your feet. Out of desperation, König only lowered his pants to his heels, even with his work boots on. You were on a large pile of hay, sweating from the great summer heat and moaning loudly.

His thrusts were brutal, making their way inside you that you barely had time to understand everything that was happening. The pleasure was so much that you could barely think about anything other than König's gaze and the way his balls slapped your ass.

"Oh, baby. You're so so tight.. And wet, shit" König groaned, sighing loudly at the pleasure your pussy was giving him. "Tell me, how did a cute little thing like you stay a virgin for so long, huh?" You opened your mouth to answer but only moans came out. "Uh? Talk to me, sweetheart, talk to me.."

"I.. I don't know.." you managed to say, overstimulated by everything. König's rough shirt rubbed against your clit, giving both pleasure and pain. König was so big that he covered you with his entire body, leaving you with almost no place to breathe air other than his breath.

"Uh? Don't you know? These farm boys are idiots... They wouldn't know how to please a pretty thing like you..." König cut off his sentence to get even closer to you and kiss you, putting his tongue inside your mouth. You tried to keep up with him but that triggered the kiss to be even wetter and hotter for him.

"König.. Give me more, please!" He smiled as he heard the urgency in your broken voice. You looked so pretty like that, almost not understanding what was happening but still pleased and eager for him to give you even more.

He, ready to please you, grabbed your legs and raised them to your shoulder, adopting a new position. His thrusts continued, his fat cock forcing its way into your no longer so virgin pussy and the simple sound of your skin slapping together made your warm walls embrace him. Not really knowing what to do, you brought your hands to König's big, muscular shoulders, feeling a few scars on them.

"Oh, my pretty little thing.. I'm going to fill you inside and you're going to be the prettiest mom in this whole damn town.." You dug your nails into his shoulder and your gaze was filled with confusion. "You like it, huh? You're going to make me so happy, isn't that what you want?"

You hesitated for a few seconds, not sure what he meant but his cock rammed even deeper into you leaving you almost without any thought. Tears formed in your eyes from the pleasure and absolute adoration with which he looked at you.

"Come on, mommy.. Make me happy, carry my precious baby.."

In the same way that König had managed to get his way in prison, he had gotten his way with you. Now you both lived together as a couple on the farm, happy and with a baby on the way inside your fertile womb.

[7nuh]

WAS IT 'CASUAL' WHEN...? — TWST 1ST YEARS

Headcanons on the 'casual' things you do with him that made him wish that there was something more between you.

CW 𓂃 sfw, gn!reader, reader is implied to fit in Deuce's clothes in his part, pining

CHARAS 𓂃 Ace Trappola, Deuce Spade, Jack Howl, Epel Felmier, and Sebek Zigvolt

AN 𓂃 mostly* edited now 😎👍

ACE TRAPPOLA — you slept in the same bed?

Ramshackle isn't exactly known for having the best facilities or furniture, and that is a fact Ace has to make peace with whenever he gets kicked out by Riddle. It's always a little too chilly at night and the floors still creak beneath his feet. Even with a makeover, half of the beds are broken and that stiff couch downstairs is your next best bet at getting some semblance of sleep.

You insisted you really didn't mind sharing a bed at all and Ace took you up on your offer. In his words, "if you say so then!" Just create an invisible partition down the middle and the two of you should be fine. Sure, yeah, that'll be infinitely more comfortable than the couch, and Ace absolutely agrees. He repeats the thought to himself over and over again— this is supposedly the better alternative, isn't it?

Yeah, totally. He tries to convince himself that it's really not a big deal for him to be inches away from you at night and feel your warmth spreading through the sheets. God, you'd think he's a weirdo if you woke up and caught him staring right now, but he could always twist it into a dumb joke about your sleeping face looking like an ogre. Consequently, he would have to watch your face twist in annoyance and pretend he wasn't watching every rise and fall of your chest. He would rather lose his magic entirely than admit the ugly truth and make himself vulnerable to you.

Ace does realize he's being embarrassingly sappy and romantic, and he's disgusted at himself for these thoughts, but he can't help it. He can't change the fact your lips look so soft and your eyelashes are so pretty. This is freaking him out so much more than it should. Does this really mean nothing to you? Do really only see him as a friend? Fine, then the two of you are just friends sharing a bed then!

It's really nothing! Ace was the one who joked about it months ago, after all. But things (and his feelings) have changed and he cannot ignore that. Back then it wouldn't have been such a big deal, but now it is and he cannot calm his heart down no matter how hard he tries.

You're right there. It's not the first time he had to share a bed with someone but it's different now because it's you. He did the math and the two of you are only 10 inches apart. Ace almost reaches for you in his weakest moment until he remembers that the two of you are supposedly just two friends sharing a bed. You're doing him a favor by sheltering him for the night, that's all.

Ace retracts his hand right away at the very last second. He might have as well taken the goddamn couch (lest either of you wake up in each other's arms).

DEUCE SPADE — he lent his clothes?

You came here with next to nothing. You had exactly one change of clothes and pocket lint for change, so Deuce, being the righteous and honorable student that he is, decided to lend you some of his clothes for the meantime. It's what a good friend would do! It's a temporary arrangement that would last only until Crowley spares enough change for you to buy another set of uniforms.

But this arrangement drags on for so long even when you have a functional closet and multiple sets of better-fitting clothes. Deuce never really noticed until recently that a third of your (albeit very limited) wardrobe actually belongs to him. But whenever you tug on his sleeves for his latest sweater, he doesn't have the heart to tell you no.

When he went home during break, his mom even noticed that certain sweaters and shirts had gone missing. "I left them at the college," he tells her as to not worry her. It's technically the truth— it's back with you in the college (and you're probably wearing them right now; the mental image is enough to fluster him all of the sudden when it never did before). He has to get them back eventually since those clothes are his. He's sure you wouldn't mind? Right?

Simply asking for them back is the difficult part for Deuce. You're there in front of him wearing one of his older shirts that fit snugly around your figure and he's at a loss for words. It's worn down and outright hideous as hell but the very first thought that comes to mind is that you look good in it.

Ah, yeah. You walk around campus on non-school days wearing his clothes 1/3rd of the time and nobody else knows that those jackets and shirts and sweaters and button-ups are all his. You make even the ugliest ones look good, or maybe it's because you're the wearer and you always looked good to him? Do his eyes need to be checked...? Deuce is tortured by these thoughts while merrily go about your day. You're laughing at something stupid that Grim said and he can't hear anything else. There's a fight in the courtyard but he can't see anything else. There's a midterm tomorrow but he can't think of anything else. You're too distracting.

When you finally do remember to return a shirt or two, Deuce tells you there's really no need to return them. He insists that they're better off with you, but you laugh and remind him that you're no longer the same pathetic charity case you were at the start of the year.

The truth is, your scent still lingers on recently returned shirts. It's the closest he'll get to being skin-to-skin with you, and Deuce is supposed to ignore that but he cannot. Or maybe he's the only one making this weird for the two of you because it doesn't seem to bother you in the slightest (and he's bothered by that).

But when Deuce looks at the recently returned shirts in his hands, he hopes he has a chance. He hopes you think of him as much as he thinks of you. He hopes the odds of him not actually liking you after all make your guts churn and set butterflies in your chest at the same time. He hopes he isn't the only one yearning for used shirts, lingering scents, and ghost touches. But at the same time, you've only ever asked these kinds of favors from him... Deuce doesn't want to assume anything, but a blush creeps upon his cheeks all the same and he continues to hope for more.

JACK HOWL — you played with his ears and tail?

Beastmen weren't a thing back in your world, so seeing them regularly made you morbidly curious about their animalistic features. Jack was easily the best candidate to satisfy your intrusive thoughts because just who else could you ask about this? Leona wasn't exactly an option and Ruggie might rope you into some scheme of his. And Jack owed you a favor, after all, so this is what you decided to ask of him.

Jack's ears twitched— did he hear you correctly? His face scrunches up in confusion because you barely knew each other for you to be asking something like this. How could you ask something so personal from him? It's in your innocently eager expression that he realizes what's going on... you just didn't know. Fine, it should mean nothing to you and thus he agrees to let you pet his tail and ears for five seconds. Maximum.

It's supposed to be a one time thing but he finds him involuntarily offering up his tail whenever you look him like that. He's not even sure how it got to this point. After all, there are romantic connotations of having your tail petted by someone else and... nevermind. Ruggie and Leona have started simultaneously teasing him over it the very moment they caught wind of this peculiar arrangement. It doesn't help that Jack's tail is particularly sensitive and reactive, but he keeps a straight face no matter how much it embarrasses him.

Jack doesn't understand why you're so fascinated by his tail and ears because there are so many others just like him. However, he supposes it's not an entirely terrible feeling, though, to have your fingers absentmindedly rake across his tail and hair as the two of you study. It's relaxing, even, but he won't tell you that. Jack will never tell you that it gives him goosebumps all over and makes him shiver whenever you play with his tail. Or that he's begun wondering what it would be like to have your hands elsewhere, or for him to touch you in similar ways in return.

He doesn't understand why he craves your company but doesn't question it either. All he knows is that your hands are so soft and gentle and that he likes the way the corner of your eyes crinkle when you smile in satisfaction. And when you hum a soft tune as the gap between the two of you closes, he wonders if he's the only one feeling this tension.

"Again?" Jack huffs. The pretext of this being a silly favor has been long forgotten. He should probably tell you soon that you shouldn't be doing this, but you just look so pleased with yourself when the two of settle down in a lesser-known corner of the library. The routine persists, the cycle continues. Hours later, the both of you have gone through multiple bags of chips, two movies on his laptop, and his tail is now comfortably curled around your abdomen as you read a book and he tends to his beloved cactus.

Again? Jack silently asks himself whenever he sees your face in a crowd. Could the two of you spend hours in a comfortable silence while the unsaid implications haunt him? He's started to ask himself— were you just playing dumb at this point or just plain stupid? Or what if you had known all along and the two of you were just dancing around it?

EPEL FELMIER — you kissed him?

Epel eventually learns to use the way others perceive him to his advantage; there's strength in appearing to be weak and striking when the iron is hot. Still, he couldn't help but wish to be seen for his talents and strength instead of his beauty at the first glance. The first assumption everyone makes of him, for god's sake, is that he's a fragile little thing from a rich family, and, quite frankly, he's sick of it.

So he's secretly delighted when none of his charms worked on you and you yank him by the ear for even attempting. A few curse words and rough shoves later, both of you are on the floor, grappling and wrestling against each other. The two of you are laughing so hard and swearing so loudly that you'll probably wake up the rest of Pomefiore at this rate, but neither of you care. It's just the two of you right now grasping at each other like your life depended on it.

It's a nice change of pace to be openly exchanging insults instead of restraining himself. He enjoys the comfortable rhythm the two of you share— from all the brawls and the bantering and the hugs and to the kisses on the cheek. Yes, kisses. They started as simple thank you's after a few favors here and there, and just one of them is enough to make a mess out of Epel for weeks. Better yet, you only seem to be showering him with more and more of your attention and he relishes in it.

Ah, things are finally working out for him! He found someone he could confide in and he's sure that there's a spark between the two of you. By the end of the year, he might have someone to bring home and brag about to his relatives—

All the momentum halts when he sees you across the hall granting the rest of your friends the same levels of affection. From all the brawls to the bantering to the hugs and the kisses, none of those were ever solely his to take delight upon. It doesn't matter that he opened up to you about all his fears and insecurities because he was never special. You were just the kind of person who got along and felt comfortable with everyone around you, but Epel hates that he has no one to blame but himself. He willingly walked your warmth but it was never his to take.

It finally dawns upon him that you have never seen him in a romantic light and that was why you were so comfortable around him. In retrospect, the bond you two shared was more sibling-like than anything— and believe him when he says he's incredibly grateful that the two of you were that close —but it doesn't make it hurt any less to know that your affections never carried any romantic intentions after he had pinned for you for so long.

Even when he takes a step back, you're cruel in a roundabout way by continuing to be so kind and loving towards him. How was Epel supposed to make sense of your relationship after realizing he misunderstood you...?

And he also hates to admit this, but his self-confidence takes a huge blow from this. Epel genuinely thought he could be loved for who he was based on the time you spent together. It gnaws at him and eats him alive to finally know the truth, and sometimes he wishes he never found out at all.

SEBEK ZIGVOLT — you wrote him love letters?

So, Sebek asked (demanded) to be penpals...

It's all because Lilia told him it would be a good exercise of diplomacy, he insisted. As the young master's bodyguard, he will have to be as courteous as possible even in unpleasant company. He also rationalized, admittedly partly because of you, that forging bonds with magicless humans may be a worthwhile endeavor after all! It's all rather suspicious (and you suspect his real intentions have something to do with your friendship with Malleus), but Sebek has never been one to lie about his intentions. If anything, the popular opinion was that he's a little too honest and should learn a thing or two about holding back.

There's something very unconventional in sending handwritten letters in this day and age of modern technology, but also something very romantic and fantastical— much like the many fictional knights he had read about. It helps a lot that he's not directly confronted by the fact you are very much a magicless human who shouldn't be in NRC whenever he spills out his heart's contents unto multiple pages. It was a way for him to release his frustrations, celebrate his achievements, and talk about the dull, little things thats happened in his day-to-day life to someone who listened.

And listen you did. Turns out, when you're not subjected to his 1000 decibel shouting, Sebek is a rather earnest guy who worked hard and acknowledged others who also worked equally as hard no matter their disposition. To say the least, you understand why Lilia found it so entertaining to tease him.

It completely flies over his head that you had been flirting with him for months through these letters. Your everyday interactions with each other had been completely normal, so how was he supposed to notice?! It takes multiple rereads and many late-night discussions with the other Diasomnia dormers to decode and understand all the double entendres and hidden 'i love you's' in each and every letter. It was so needlessly difficult, but Lilia laughs in his face and pats him at the back for a job well-done.

"There's no way," he thinks to himself late at night and finds himself doubting Lilia's claims for once. But when Sebek steals a glance in your direction and you smile back in return, he's never felt weaker in his knees. You're absolutely and undeniably magic-less... but somehow you had casted a spell that made his chest tighten and shut him up. He hadn't even realized how much time he was spending with you and thinking about you when he wasn't.

Except nothing has changed in-person. You're acting like you hadn't meticulously hidden your affections for him in those letters, and he was starting to seriously doubt all of it. Yeah, were you event smart enough to pull off all that? As some magic-less human?

Actually... Sebek realizes that you are capable of outsmarting him after getting to know you much better through those letters. He's never been one to deny where credit it was due. Now, Sebek's just deeply ashamed that he failed to accurately assess your character before making judgements based on superficial traits. He knows better than anyone that you're witty, charming, brave, kind, beautiful, ambitious—

Oh no.

Oh no.

Sebek simply explodes on the spot once he realizes that he had been oblivious to his own feelings for you too. He had thoroughly examined every aspect of this conundrum except from within. Quite embarrassing from an esteemed knight of the prince of nocturnal fae to be this slow, really.

[pearlzier]

𝅄⠀⠀ㅤׂ ⠀sleepy gf quiet gamer bf, smut⠀ 𓈒⠀⠀✧

"that's it, baby, that's it, there we go, that's my girl," matt groans softly as you sink down onto his cock, the soft, wet squelching sound making his thighs tense faintly beneath you. he almost whimpers at the sight of you so blissed out, so sleepy but needy for him to fuck you. you'd woken up minutes before, soaked with need. he was surprised, to realise how wet you were, all because of him. but he was on call with his friends, so the two of you needed to be quiet.

being quiet was most definitely not your thing.

you were characteristically loud when in bed with matt. it wasn't your fault, necessarily. matt made you see fucking stars. so the blame for your borderline pornographic moans couldn't be placed solely on you. it was as much matt's fault as it was yours. as much as matt loved your pretty sounds, he also didn't want his friends overhearing the two of you when he was supposed to be focused on winning.

"gotta be quiet, ma," matt grunts, realising his friends are getting a little suspicious of how long his mic had been turned off. he would've kept it off the whole time so he could fuck your tight little hole as much as he wanted to, as much as the two of you wanted, but still. "don't want them to hear you, do you? hear how good you feel when i fuck you, huh?" you shake your head, to respond, but also to try shake away some of your drowsiness.

"don't want them to hear me," you agree quietly, slowly grinding your hips as you simultaneously shimmied a little more out of your fluffy pajama bottoms, the soft material brushing against matt's thighs causing him to groan a little bit. "gonna turn my mic back on, okay? gotta stay quiet for me." he turns it on, as promised, and he laughs at his friend's responses, giving you a quick look in the process.

you had to be quiet, because matt wouldn't be happy if you weren't. you knew what he was like when that happened, he was so unfair. your hands grasp at his shirt a little, as you shift your weight, and quiet little sounds slip past his lips at the way you move. he'd call you a tease if he didn't know how sleepy you were. no way you'd tease him in a state like this. his half-lidded blue eyes flutter over you and he smirks to himself, his hands preoccupied with the controller as he played.

it was up to you to get off, the look in his eyes told you. matt was busy with his game. he couldn't bounce you on his dick like he usually would, or hold you down so you could grind, no, you had to use your pretty head and think for yourself without his help for once. so cruel of him. you were the one who came to him all needy and horny in the first place, after all.

"mmh," you whine pathetically, under your breath, just quiet enough so matt's mic won't pick it up. he laughs at you, chuckles at how needy you are, mumbling under his breath, "go on then, baby, i can't help you." he's so mean, you think to yourself, as you try to lift your hips up and down on him. a low grunt slips past his lips, your walls gliding up and down on him.

"you're so mean," you huff out, trying to gain a momentum. you're so tired, as are your thighs, so moving is practically impossible. matt watches you for a moment, the impossibly slow pace you're setting making arousal coil in his stomach. he can barely stay quiet, grunts escaping him occasionally. "i ain't mean, baby, jus' busy." he was being unfair and he knew it.

this goes on for another fifteen minutes or so. you leaking on his dick, making a mess, unable to chase that releass you so dearly crave.

all while he laughs and jokes with his friends about a round of a game you honestly couldn't give two shits about.

eventually, he feels the tiniest shred of mercy. matt notices how sleepy you are and the way you're about to fall asleep with him inside, and he takes pity on you, deciding on finding a way to wrap up his gaming session with his boys. "s'gettin' late and i gotta do some shit in the mornin', but i'll catch up with you guys soon, aight?" his friends grumble agreements, a little disappointed as to their standards it wasn't even that late.

arguably 3am was late, but okay.

you don't start whining and whinging until you're absolutely sure his friends are gone, and it's like a dam's been broken the moment you are. "matt, please," you beg, "please, please.. wanna.. touch me, please," it's pathetic and whiny and you're absolutely not ashamed because he'd been a total dickhead in not helping you and now you just wanted to come. was that so bad?

"so needy, sweetheart.." matt mutters, a coy smirk playing on his lips as he leans back in the gaming chair, watching how you look, sat on him like that. his hands glide over your body, and you mewl at the touch, back arching instinctively. the way your tight walls squeeze him when your back arches urges him to finally give in and give you what you want, his hands sliding down to your hips. "just needed my attention, thought so," he starts slowly grinding his hips, bucking up into you in gentle motions. you let out soft gasps, pretty noises falling to his ears and only encouraging him more.

"that's it.. you ride my cock so pretty, ma," he's practically doing the work for you, since he knows how tired you are, but that doesn't mean he's not proud of you for even trying. his head tilts back, blue eyes watching you as he bounced you. "gonna fuck you so good, babe, make you see stars, huh? couldn't sleep? don't worry, baby, don't worry," he mumbles, oh, he'd get you to sleep. don't worry about it.

๋࣭ ⭑ taglist / @mattslolita , @st7rnioioss , @flairdean , @mattsluv , @bepositiveforachange , @poetatorturadaa , @onlynextdoor

[sonolynn]

Forbidden Fruit

summary | Jace didn't want her, but Aemond did.

pairing | Aemond Targaryen x Fem!Reader

tags | 18+ MDNI, Jealously, Aemond yearning, explicit sexual content, mentions of bastards, loss of virginity, unprotected sex, size kink (?), oral f!receiving, Angst if you squint. "Technical" infidelity but is it really if Jace started it? (yes). ooc!Aemond (probably). NOT PROOF READ (its one am, leave me alone).

w.c | 3.8k

note(s) | My first smut fic!! Ah I'm scared...I also think I have a problem with making Aemond want fem!reader when he rightfully can't have her. Also I swear I'm not a Jace hater!! I love Jace, but in this fic specifically I made him long and wish for Baela.

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“Why don’t you marry her then?” 

Aegon’s voice was taunting, as if pushing Aemond to say something. Aemond stared down at the cup in front of him; even with a stoic expression, his mannerisms betrayed him. He tapped his finger against the edge of the cup, he picked at the skin around his nails on the opposite hand-all the tell tale signs of thinking, a mind that cannot be stopped. 

“Because she is betrothed to Rhaenyra’s bastard.” His voice dripped with malice as he spoke. Aemond hated that Jacerys would inherit the throne enough; What his bastard nephew didn’t need was the girl Aemond had wished for his entire life. Ever since the two of them were children Aemond had a…weird infatuation with her. When he was a boy, he would pick flowers from the garden and he would purposely do good deeds for her, just to have her hug him or smile graciously at him. 

But now, everything was different. She was a woman grown, and him a man grown. She was to be engaged to his bastard nephew, and he would have to sit and watch as they shared a kiss, held hands, smiled and danced as newlyweds. He’d have to hold a straight face as the two of them left to Jacerys’ bed chamber, only knowing the connotations that came with what would happen on their wedding night. 

Ignoring his brother's tedious rants about hells knows what, Aemond stood from his chair, opting for a walk in the gardens.

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Aemond walked, hands clasped behind his back, and his gaze drifted into nothingness as he walked with just his thoughts, and the cool breeze that accompanied the summer evenings. He tried to distract himself from the thoughts of her, for they were all almost too painful to ever truly think about. 

But he couldn’t help himself. He thought of her as a sickness, one that lingered and grew stronger by the day until it fully consumed your every waking moment. He thought of her laugh just as contagious as the plague, her eyes as intoxicating as the finest of wines. He thought her to be a type of sickness, and he so desperately wanted to be affected. 

Aemond was never one to smile-one to truly-smile, his half smirks or half smiles were only ever in a sarcastic sense, but for some reason his smiles were real with her. With her he laughed a little more, with her he walked a little faster. He knew it was stupid, perhaps perpetually idiotic-to ever think, let alone long for such a pure and innocent creature. 

As Aemond walked, he noticed her sitting by one of the fountains in the garden. She looked breathtaking, he thought to himself. Her hair was down and cascaded down her shoulders, her face was just the perfect amount of shaded with the moon's light. And above all, she held that intoxicating smile that she always held. He never knew why she was always smiling, nor did he wish to find out. 

She turned her head, her smile widening at the sight of Aemond. 

“Aemond!” Her voice was cheerful, slowly standing as he walked towards her. 

“Princess,” Aemond smiled-a half smile-at her as he looked around, then slowly back at her. “It’s quite late. Should you not be in your chambers?” 

She always thought the way he cared for her, even if he didn’t show it outright, was extremely enticing. She knew how he was with others, but she knew the differences he had with almost everyone in court-so what made her so different? Why her, the object of the second son's affection. 

“Perhaps I do not wish to sleep. Perhaps…I quite like the quietness of the garden.” She smiled innocently, looking back towards the fountain as she started to walk. Aemond knew her well enough to see that this was a quiet plea for him to join her; Because no matter how much she enjoyed the quietness of the garden, she enjoyed it much more when he was with her. 

Aemond stared at her, as he often did, but this time, it was different. The stare he held was nothing short of primal. He watched the light in her eyes as she smiled up at him and for some reason, now, he wished to watch as the innocent light in her eyes slowly dwindled as he claimed her. 

“Aemond? Is something wrong?” Her voice snapped his thoughts back, if only for a moment. She stopped walking to look up at him and she crossed her arms underneath her chest. His eye trailed down slowly, fixating on the way that her cleavage just slightly out of her dress. He was like a man starved; Clinging to the littlest of details that would make his imagination run wild. 

She seemed to notice the way that his eye raked over her chest like a starving man, and her face flushed with embarrassment. She-though subconsciously-reached up to place her arm over her chest, but to her surprise, Aemond gently took her hand, and when she looked up, his one sapphire eye was locked with hers. 

“You needn’t cover up. Not around me.” He spoke calmly, though his heart was racing and his head spinning. He let out a shaky breath as he lowered her hand and looked into her eyes. 

She watched him carefully, searching his gaze for anything that would betray him. In truth she didn’t know what she was searching for, but she felt as if she should be searching for something. 

Aemond lifted a hand, placing the back of his knuckles against her hot cheek. The gesture was gentle, and slow, something he was not known for. His eye slowly trailed down her face, and his eye caught on her lips, his breath heavy as he reached his hand up and gently placed his thumb over her plush bottom lip. 

Her eyes followed his, big, and full of longing. She stared at him as his thumb pushed against her lip. She didn’t know exactly what to do; She knew that this moment was intimate, far too intimate to be happening between a betrothed woman and a bachelor. But, the way he gazed at her made her feel hot, and the way he trailed his hand over her face and body made her want to see where this could lead. 

His free hand shakily went up to her waist, cupping it firmly as he brought her closer. He leaned forward, just slightly, till his nose was pressed against hers. Her breath hitched, and her eyes instinctively closed. She waited for him to press his lips against hers, to feel his mouth on hers like she had (shamefully) always wished for. But, it never came. 

When she opened her eyes again, she saw Aemond breathing heavily, desperately trying to restrain himself. He pulled away slightly, and he shook his head,

“I shouldn’t take advantage of you…not like this.” Though his words held conviction, it seemed his body betrayed him. His hand stayed on her waist, slowly trailing up and cupping her breast in his hand. She gasped softly at the feeling, and his thumb went to her lip again before he connected his lips to hers. She responded immediately, putting her hands on his arms. 

He kissed her like he was dying, his body subconsciously reacting more to the kiss then he’d wish it to. He pulled her flush against him, his strong hands coming to cup her face, his shoulders shrugging in a futile attempt to have her closer. He opened his mouth, causing her to gasp at the feeling of his tongue against hers. Her mouth moved with his as if it was known to her; As if this was a dance she had practiced for years to perfect, as if the dance of her lips was a song that Aemond had mastered just for her. 

She practically melted in his arms. She had been kissed before; Jace was a good kisser but he was soft, and the kisses were never not chaste. But, kissing Aemond was like walking through fire. Her entire body reacted to the way he clung to her body, how he pulled her impossibly closer. It was like a fire had escaped through his lips and was now coursing through her veins and settling in her abdomen. 

Even though she didn’t know exactly what to do, it seemed her body did. Her hands slid down his arms and slowly made their way to his chest as she moaned softly. 

The moan grounded him, like he had been falling from the heavens and down to earth. He suddenly pulled away, breathless as he stared down at her. Her eyes opened steadily, and she looked up at him with confusion while a frown graced her kiss swollen lips. 

“We shouldn’t have done that.” He spoke breathlessly, his hand still gently stroking her side. 

“Maybe not..but it felt good.” Gods, the way she spoke held him in a chokehold. He wished desperately to dive back into her; To drown in her lips and never come up for air, but.. 

“Not again. You are to be married.” He suddenly pulled away and at the feeling of his hands leaving her body, she frowned deeper. 

“Aemond-” “Goodnight, Princess.” 

And with that, the prince turned and rushed back into the keep. 

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Aemond couldn’t sleep. He tossed and turned in bed, picking at his nails, biting his lip-genuinely anything to help stop the incessant thoughts of her lips. 

The thoughts started off sweet and innocent. The way she looked up at him as he trailed his thumb over her lip, the way her lips pursed just slightly when he leaned forward. 

But then the thoughts got venereal fast. He thought about how he felt to finally kiss her. The way his lips practically burned when they pulled away. He knew that as he gazed at her kiss swollen lips his night would be harbored with thoughts of what they’d look like doing gods knows what else. 

His hand slid down underneath the sheets, firmly grasping at his length as he let out a shuddering breath. He hated doing this; Feeling so pent up and so desperate that he had to resort to using himself. But as of right now he couldn’t care less. 

He imagined her lips around his cock, her innocent eyes gazing up into his. He’d imagine the way she’d gag around him, how her lips would look kissing the head of his cock. 

He groaned at the thought, his head tipping back as he closed his eye and let his thoughts wander more. He’d think about how she’d look with his seed covering her lips and her chin, how she’d moan his name as he devoured her between her legs-

He peaked with a gasp, and a low moan of her name. The minute his orgasm washed over him, and he started to slowly come down, he felt an intense feeling of guilt, shame, but most of all pain. 

Guilt and shame because he hated himself for touching himself to someone who couldn’t be his. 

Pain because she’d never be his. Pain because he knew that no matter what he did, she’d still be betrothed to Jacerys. 

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The next morning, she sat alone at breakfast, supposedly liking it more that way. With her fiance practically ignoring her, and her father too entranced with kissing the king's ass, she learned to enjoy the solitude of just…nothing. 

Plus, she always had her thoughts. Even if they were only occupied with Aemond. 

She played around with the food on her plate as her mind trailed. She remembered the way he kissed her, how he held her. She felt happy, something she so rarely felt with Jacerys. 

She knew how he felt, how he longed for and wished for Baela. She did not blame him, she was beautiful, but she also didn’t feel sad, which, at a point did bother her but, not so much. 

At least, not after last night. 

She smiled to herself as she thought about the kiss, wishing that he would do it again, longing for the way the heat escalated through her body. 

She didn’t register the voice next to her until it spoke her name. 

She looked up, surprised. But, when her eyes met with Aemond’s, her heartbeat quickened, and she smiled. 

“Aemond.”

“You’re not hungry?”

“What?” “You’re not eating.” “Oh,” Her cheeks flushed red for a reason unbeknownst to her, and with a soft huff, she pushed the plate away, “It seems as though I have lost my appetite.” 

Aemond looked concerned at that, and he looked down at her. Despite himself, he found himself worrying yet again for her comfort, her needs. 

“Is something the matter?” She shakes her head, but for some reason, Aemond was persistent. “If this is about what happened last night, then I should apologize-” 

“Apologize?” She interrupted, sitting up straighter at the mention of the word. “Why?” 

“Yes…apologize. Because we should not have done that-”

“But I wanted it to happen.” 

Aemomd stopped and he slowly looked towards her. His eye pierced into hers as if to read every thought and emotion that crossed her brain. He just simply couldn’t believe her. 

“You shouldn’t say things you do not mean, Princess.”

“You don’t know that I don’t mean it.”

“Princess-”

“Aemond.” She said his name as if to challenge him, and he knew that he truly could never challenge her. He saw it in her eyes, he saw by the way she looked at him and smiled that she wished for him just as he wished for her. But these feelings-these blockages-would only cause unnecessary trouble. 

“Please, do not give me a hope that cannot be upheld.” Her heart broke a little at that, and, as he stood to leave, she instinctively stood with him, taking his wrist in her hand as she pulled on his arm. As if the small gesture would stop him from walking, (it did). 

“Aemond please..You do not know what I wish for.” 

His lip curled down into a small frown as he looked at her. He knew what she felt-at least he thought he did-but even if his suspicions were right, even if she did wish for him like how he longed for her, he couldn’t. He may dislike, perhaps even hate his nephew, but he was better than stealing his fiance. 

Right?

“We cannot. To be with you would disgrace your family and the alliance-” 

“Fuck the alliance!” She swore, her eyes boring into his as she studied his face. “Fuck the alliances Aemond, I wish for you. Desperately, I wish for you. Jace does not see me like how you do. Jace does not make me feel the way that you do-”

“It does not matter if Jace makes you happy or if he makes you feel desired-” “He does not wish for me as you do!”

“Princess-” “You do not understand! We are speaking of breaking it off. Neither of us wish for this.” Aemond went quiet at this and he sighed heavily, turning his full body towards her. He pried his arm away from her, staring at her incredulously, his body language giving no open window to how he was truly feeling. With no words coming from him, she continued. 

“I love you.” At those words Aemond showed his shock. He took a step back from her and he raised an eyebrow. 

“You do not mean-”

“Oh for the love of-Yes! I mean it! I love you, Aemond! I love you as if it is breathing! Instinctively, not thinking about it….I love you.” 

Aemond couldn’t hold it anymore, he walked to her and gripped her face tightly, her cheeks squishing slightly in his grasp as he smashed his lips against hers. She initially was shocked at the sudden kiss, but she kissed him back fiercely, holding his wrists as she leaned up to kiss him deeper. 

He led her back until he pressed her back against the table, holding her thighs as he pushed her onto the table. His body fit perfectly in between her thighs, just like he imagined it would. His hands gripped her thighs, one of his hands traveling up, feeling and savoring the soft skin as he groaned. 

She pulled away from the kiss to leave small kisses along his jaw. He bit his lip at the feeling, the action presumably so innocent and so sweet it almost made him chuckle. 

He pulled back slightly, his gaze intense and lust filled as his hand trailed underneath her breasts. 

“Tell me to stop.” He demanded. His head was spinning with the lust that clouded it. He waited for her to push him away, or to whimper a soft “I do not think myself ready”- But she shook her head, bringing his head back to hers swiftly to connect their lips in another passionate kiss. 

He pulled away from the kiss, groaning to himself as he left hot, open mouthed kisses against her jaw and neck. He looked down, his breath heavy as he stared down into her cleavage. He wished for nothing more than to rip her dress open and kiss every inch of her body, but being in the dining room came with its disadvantages. So, he settled for kissing her cleavage, before trailing his lips down the fabric of her dress till he came to her thighs.

Aemond pushed her dress up as far as he could, staring at her the whole time. He slowly pushed her thighs about, giving her time to stop him but she never did. Gently kissing the inner side of her thigh, he tried to reassure her. He could see the uncertainty in her eyes; The way she looked at him with both anxiety and lust. He stared up at her searching for any sign or signal that would make him stop. 

“Is this okay?” Once he saw the light nod of her head, he disappeared underneath her dress. 

She had never been intimate with a man-courtesy of her father, enforcing the “Women should be pure” melodramatic speech into her head ever since she could stand. She always thought it to be a chore, only having heard stories from unhappy married women who hated their husbands, and much less disliked their children a little less, but this? This was exciting, this felt good. 

She placed a hand on his head, moaning his name under her breath as he ate her like a beast. His hands gripped her thighs as if to ground himself-He had tasted women before but for some reason she was so much sweeter, so much more divine. His eyes practically rolled back just from pushing his tongue into her heat, sucking gently on her flit before he pulled away slightly, focusing his attention on her clit as he dipped a finger inside of her. 

The sudden stretch made her jump, and gasp loudly. She may have pleasured herself before but it really never felt like what Aemond was doing to her. He eased his finger in slowly, dragging it back out, and then slowly pushing it back in. Hearing the moans that graced her lips, he continued the slow thrust of his finger for a moment before he added another one. 

She let out a loud moan, a hand on the back of his head as she pushed his head closer to her heat. She felt him chuckle against her, the vibrations only adding to the pleasure. She moaned loudly, perhaps too loudly for comfort, but Aemond only seemed to want more of those noises to come from her. 

He slowly curled his fingers, his mouth praising her clit. The added pressure with the curl of his fingers, and the sucking of her clit made her eyes squeeze shut. 

“Oh gods Aemond, I’m going to-” Just as her orgasm was going to consume her, it stopped. With her heavy breathing, and slightly shaky legs, she slowly sat up. Aemond smirked up at her, holding her gaze as he nipped at her inner thighs. “You stopped..” 

“Yes. Because if you are going to peak it should be on my cock.” 

Her face flushed at the words, and she stared at him with wide eyes as he pulled his trousers down slightly to free his throbbing cock. As their eyes met, he seemed to notice the slight anxiety in her eyes, because he pressed his forehead against hers and lined himself up with her entrance. 

“Tell me to stop if it hurts too much.” She nodded in response, and she wrapped her arms tightly around his shoulders as he pushed into her. She let out a gasp; The feeling was new, discomfiting but..new. Her face scrunched up at the stretch, and Aemond shushed her quietly as he started to move. After a few thrusts, her body relaxed, and she started to moan his name. 

Hearing his name fall from her lips was like a prayer answered, like a lifelong dream he had been waiting for. He grunted as he started to rock his hips back and forth into her slowly. It took everything inside of him to not pound into her, to fuck her like he had fantized about. He wished that her father could see her now, her maidenhood gone and her body fully submitting to the pleasure he so gracefully gave her. 

“Aemond..Aemond oh gods-” Her voice broke as he went faster, her moans only getting louder. She tried to wrap her mind around the pleasure he was giving her, the way his hips moved slowly yet deeply, the way the tip of his thick cock rubbed against the spot so deliciously. Her eyebrows furrowed, and she held him close to her. 

One of his hands was on her thigh, the other on the table as he thrusted into her, as if holding the edge of the table would stop the creaking sounds, or the way she moaned his name, or how his groans got louder as his climax approached. 

White splattered her vision as her orgasm washed over. She cried out his name in pleasure, holding him close as his legs trapped him inside of her. The feeling of her core pulsating and tightening made Aemond’s head spin, and he grunted out a moan of her name as he came himself, spilling his seed inside of her. 

As the two sat there, basking in the afterglow of being intimate, neither of them would move for what felt like hours. Even though the position that they were in was compromising, they smiled, and laughed softly at the situation itself. 

Once they both got cleaned up-the best they could get cleaned up for just having sex on the dining room table-Aemond took her hand. She smiled softly at Aemond, her heart racing in a new, and exciting way. The two stared at each other for a while, trying to wrap their minds around the fact that now, they could truly be together, or at least, now, they had a hope that they could be together.

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