#so maybe placing these words in the hands and hearts of others will help awaken my need to dismantle the chaos in me

[windixie]

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ out of touch ♱ soccer player! gojo x alt! reader pt.1

summary : gojo is the university's most popular boy and soccer player. he can get any girl he wanted to warm up his bed, so why did he catch feelings for the girl who looks like she just woke up out of a coffin?

warnings ☠︎︎ this will contain smut throughout the story. reader is implied to have a smaller chest! gojo is an asshole :( so angst, profanity, insecurities, p in v, creampie, comfort, fluff, slight breeding kink, light choking, jealousy, ill prob add to the list as the story progresses!

word count : 1.03k

let me know if you want to be added to the tag list !!

you knew gojo. hell, everyone knew gojo. annoying, loud, obnoxious, ah should I go on? that's how you described the so called star player on the soccer team. his ego reached all the way towards the clouds by how much he was admired in the community. you on the other hand, not so much. sure you were known by many but not in such a positive way. you were intelligent sure, but the way you dressed wasn't entirely accepted. you were always getting bothered by other students, one of them being no other than satoru gojo. although, it seems that you two have grown into a friendship lately.

"hey pretty" you heard an awfully familiar voice come up behind you. the white haired boy was still in his blue and white soccer jersey covered in grass stains and some of his sweat from his practice that he just came from. you gave him one of your small sweet smiles."hi gojo" you mumbled back.

he looked down at your figure. the pretty black blouse fit you so perfect as well as those mini grey jean shorts that cupped your ass so deliciously. gojo took notice of you wearing your earbuds which he took one of them and placed it in his ear. "whatcha listening to?" you faced him slightly annoyed as you looked at how his face scrunched up in disgust.

"seriously? how can your ears support all that screaming?" he grimaced as he heard the loud singing.

he let out a chuckle at that before his eyes lit up as he realized something. reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a piece of paper handing it to you. you blamed the shot of arousal that traveled towards you as you took notice of how veiny his arms were. you glanced down to see it was a ticket. a ticket to his upcoming soccer game, to be exact.

your eyebrows picked up as you turned to him. "you want me to go to your game?" the question made the blue eyed boy nod. "want you there on the stands baby, if you can, then I promise to play even better than I usually do." you were shocked to say the least. the satoru gojo inviting you to his game personally even after countless months of relentless bullying was not something you could see coming.

but you couldn't help yourself from nodding. "yeah sure ill be there!" the feeling of your heart beating against your chest brought a scary but not unwelcome feeling. You stared at him for a moment, unsure if you were hearing things correctly. The blue-eyed boy, a walking angel blessed by God himself, smirked down at you with a flicker of something you couldn’t quite place. It wasn't the usual cocky smirk. It was different—something warmer, maybe? Or maybe you were just imagining it.

"I'd like that."

"great, ill see you tomorrow after school then?" he asked in which you let out an mhm in return. "okay pretty, try and get some sleep. you need some just by judging off your eye bags" he teased. "shut up!"

you watched the taller boy walk off. his use of the sweet and loving names made you feel a little awkward, but you shoved it down. You had a feeling that this was just another one of his ways of throwing you off. It wasn’t like he was being sweet. Not Gojo. He never was.

As you walked off to the other side of where the dormitories where taking note on how the night was now awakening due to time change. as you reached for your AirPods case to put back your earbuds your fingers stopped on your left ear. your earbud was missing.

gojo didn't take notice of the music cutting off. he was in a completely different world thinking about none other than you. he didn't understand how he caught feelings. no matter how many times he reminded himself it was you and how he could do some much better that that. he only gave you to ticket to his game only to be nice, is what he told himself. a friendly gesture friends do all the time!

"yo Satoru!" one of his friends called out to him. gojo turned to look at the boy with long black hair and big ass gauges walking up to him along with some other boys from the team. a smile crept up on his face dabbing them all up. "hey you all did well at practice today"

"yeah man that's what we came to say as well but we saw you talking to that emo freak uh whats her name, y/n?" this made gojo slightly embarrassed on how they caught him. "don't tell me you hitting on that emo pussy, it can't be that good" one of the other teammates chuckled making the white haired boy slightly uncomfortable.

"nah man, too busy with uraume" Geto patted his back "good good, lets keep it that way. she's got a better body anyways. let me burrow her sometime yeah?" the blacked hair boy received a nudge at that making him chuckle.

you looked around you trying to find the taller boy to retrieve your airpod. sighing in relief as you saw him. "gojo!" you called out making the boys turn around.

"ah she came back for round two?"

you walked up to him. "hey uhm you still have my AirPods." you said pointing to his ear. "give back your friend her AirPods satoru" his friend teased.

"we're barely friends. acquaintance is a better term" he mumbled out. as you received back your airpod, you stopped. eyes widening as you heard what he said. "acquaintance? thought we were-"

"friends?" he cut you off. "cmon I pay attention to you two or three times and now suddenly we're friends?" he scoffed. why was he acting like this? that's right, because he's satoru gojo. you were nowhere as close as him. you never will be. your face turned serious before you reached into you pocket handing him the ticket he gave you. "here, you dropped this" you mumbled.

gojos eyes fell down to the ticket in his hands. his heart broke a bit. "wait.. y/n-"

"forget it" with that you retrieved back to the direction to your dorm fighting back tears as you left the boy stunned.

"looks like you hurt her feelings, gonna go apologize?"

"nah."

© 2025 windixie. All work belongs to windixie . please do not copy, repost, plagiarize, any of my works as your own.

[icaruspendragon]

here’s a little poem not about sadness or grief as a treat

[buckyalpine]

Chicken nuggies.

Crack thought with all the fluff. ALL the fluff. Maybe a tiny dash of angst at the start but it's to set the plot.

Everything that could have possibly gone wrong went sideways as soon as the mission started. The team was ambushed. Bucky was separated from everyone else. His trigger words blared through the speakers and there was nothing anyone could do to stop the soldier from awakening.

Worst of all, you were badly injured. Steve groaned in pain, struggling to pull himself up when he saw the solider lock his eyes on your limp form, taking long strides towards you with purpose.

That wasn't good.

"Tony-I-I need back up, y/n is-what the hell"

Steve blinked watching his friend pick you up with the utmost care, holding you securely in his arms. A hydra agent attempted to order him, only to be silenced with a knife thrown to the throat. The soldier made his way towards the exit with you along with a limping Steve trailing behind him.

"Buck-

"Быстрее" [move] he ordered, carrying you close to his chest and sitting in his designated on the spot on the jet. He didn't say a word as the others filed in, growling when Tony didn't start the engine up fast enough. No one dared look in your direction, not wanting to make the wrong move and happy that Bucky had busied himself with looking over your injuries, mumbling in Russian while letting his hand brush over your cheek.

As soon as the jet touched the ground, he was on his feet and carrying you over to the medbay, refusing to set you down until he saw a doctor ready to help. While it wasn't exactly protocol to have him in the operating room while the doctors worked, no one was interested in arguing back with him when he placed himself in a corner, watching intently. His blue eyes which were normally filled with warmth and softness were now stone cold, eyeing every single movement of what was being done to you, his gaze relaxing when the surgeon gave him a shaky thumbs up.

He sat by your side the entire time, gear still strapped to his body, watching the steady beep of your heart monitor while you slept, the rest of the team quietly waiting outside. Sam peered in, quickly retreating back when Bucky glowered at him, getting up and closing the door so you could rest. He and Steve continued to peep through the little glass window, immediately ducking when they could feel steel blue eyes watching him.

"Do we try and help or-

"I don't want to die yet, also based on what I'm seeing, y/n in the safest place she could be"

You sighed happily as you blinked awake, feeling hazy as if you were floating upon the softest of clouds. The room was bright and clean, you could have been in heaven for all you knew.

Or you were just high as a kite from all the pain killers.

Then you saw him beside you.

Such a gorgeous man.

Handsome.

One who gave you butterflies with shy smiles.

"Soldat" You giggled, reaching over to stroke his scruffy cheek, brushing your thumb over the scowl on his lips, "Hi" You admired his sharp jaw, idly tracing over his features while his mouth twitched into something of a smile, all his muscles finally relaxing seeing you awake.

You yawned, stretching yourself out like a kitten out before rolling over with a flop to face the very pretty man who was sitting at your bedside. Your admiration was cut short with the rumble of your tummy.

There was only one thing you wanted now.

"Soldat, I want chicken nuggies" You demanded, the growl of your stomach solidifying your request. He simply nodded, getting up and out of his seat, making his way over to the one place he knew you'd want your "nuggies" from.

"H-how may I h-help you" The Mc Donald's cashier stared at the numerous guns and knifes strapped to the infamous soldier, his metal arm pointing to a kids meal combo that came with a 6 piece nugget.

A little red box was placed in front of him at lightening speed but that wasn't good enough. He peered into the bag, frowning when he saw a toy that you already had. He grabbed it and placed it back onto the counter, staring at the trembling employee while they rummaged to find a new one, grabbing fistfuls and stuffing into the bag instead. The soldier nodded when he was given one you didn't have before, making his way back to ensure you were fed.

It didn't take long for the news outlets to catch on that the Winter Soldier was out buying Happy Meals.

*Tony's suit, Thors hammer, Steve's now broken shield and some gentle deprogramming later*

"Still want more nuggies" You murmured against Bucky's chest, still a little hazy while he chuckled, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

"I'll always get you chicken nuggies, doll"

[thatnonameuser]

The Red King holds a Bleeding Head

A Wonderland of Yanderes - Masterlist Chapter 1. Heartslaybul Part 8.

Going down the rabbit hole that is your mirror a third time feels a little more normal. Even though traveling through it to begin with is the definition of crazy, you’ve started to get used to it. Just like the last two times you awaken to your bedroom, you feel smothered by that sensation of being forced under something heavy and lying on a fluff cloud. Your mirror ripples and gleams a bright white light that beckons you forward. 

You’re not exactly prepared for this, but you don’t have any time to. You throw off the odd feeling blankets and make your way to the mirror, which is sparkling in its usual white light. 

You take a deep dream breath to steady your nerves. You want this trip through the looking glass to be different this time. Instead of you stumbling through the mirror world completely blind, you need to go through determined to find answers. 

You’re smart enough to recognise the pattern. Whatever happens there seems to happen in your dreams, to some effect, have happened in real life. The painted roses, the cards soldiers, and Ace and Deuce, being beheaded by the Queen for breaking the rules. There’s a pattern and if it keeps up tonight, then tomorrow during the duel something is going to happen that will be similar to your dreams. 

Plus, there’s also the King of Hearts. He and Alice were the only ones who could see you so far, and Winston was the darling of the Queen. There had to be something that he knew that could help you. And if your dreams were really sending you back in time to meet them, then he had to know something that can help you. Even if it was a tiny detail, you needed to know.

Plus. If your deduction was correct, then Crowley had done jack all since you arrived to send you back home, then maybe you could find something out from someone like you. A darling that’s terrified. If it’ll lead back home, it's worth a shot, right?

Now invigorated with courage, you place your hand on the glass, and it ripples. And you’re pulled into wonderland.

You’re somewhere unfamiliar. As in it doesn’t look like the rose maze anymore. In fact, this place looks very different. 

The rose garden is beautiful, the hallway you’re in now is ominous. Even with the gaudy red hearts. The black, white and red are smothering here. The hallways narrow, but ornate. It’s covered with heart-covered and heart-shaped vases, picture frames, and statues. The hallway’s lit up by heart shaped lamps that glow gray, meant to give off light but feel the room feel so dark. The manic and exaggerated shapes and the monotony of the overwhelming crimson red makes you feel a little tremble. 

You take hesitant steps down the hall, scanning them for anything helpful or clues. 

“This is…new.” And so far what’s new makes you feel chills. “What is the mirror trying to show me n-”

A deafening roar of <Off With Their HEADS!!!> echoes through the halls and interrupts your thoughts and makes you jump in surprise. The roar makes the decor shake and rattle, some fall and shatter. 

You gulp nervously and your heart speeds up. This doesn’t feel right.

Another roar fills the air <SILENCE!!> makes you hasten your footsteps. Whatever’s happening you're missing it, and you need all the help you can get right now. 

You run down the hall to nowhere, finding no doorways, until the hall ends. It’s a single door, knee high and heart shaped. 

“How the hell am I supposed to-” Another roar fills the hall and breaks a nearby lamp. “Alright, I’m going!” You shove it open and crawl through, and it shrinks around you just to make things worse, After a mild struggle, you finally get through, something better be on the other side-

Something grabs you by the back of your pajamas, and you hauled up to be faced with the King of Hearts. 

And he looks angry. <What are you doing here?!> He whisper-yells, shaking you by your shoulders. 

“I-I-” 

You don’t get to put a word in, and shit must’ve hit the fan hard when you were gone because Winston starts ranting. <What are you, the Cheshire Cat!? You were there one moment and gone the next! I’m stressed out of my mind trying to keep a girl alive and you just keep popping up to make things even more stressful!!!> He pauses for a moment, to recollect himself, <H-How did you even get here?!>

“I used the door-” You turn and point to find no door or wall and instead find a sharp decline into a certain death behind the haphazard judge’s bench. “Nevermind” You quickly finish as you take a nervous step back from the ledge. 

<Well,  it doesn’t matter you have to->

<Winston, sweetheart, who are you speaking too?> The voice that pipes up is mockingly fond. As if they’re entertaining a child speaking to an imaginary friend. You look past Winston, to see a stout woman that looks suspiciously like the Queen of Hearts.

No seriously, her mocking, smiling face looks so punchable, that it reminds you of Riddle. A heart shaped with high cheekbones, and a glare that rivals Riddle Rosehearts, her black hair is tied up into a rose shape, slick backed, smooth and orderly. Her dress is extravagant even in the field of black and white, red undertones over taking the dress. Her crown is larger than Winston's, cementing to you that she is in charge and he’s unwillingly along for the ride.

She looks like a real person this time. Are your dreams progressing? Becoming more detailed?

Winston looks at her incredulously, you can hear him mutter, <C-Can’t you see her?...> Pointing in your direction confused. 

<There’s no one there, Winston. Are you imaging things again?> The King of Hearts spares you a conflicted look, before finally agreeing with her.

<I must be…..> He says after a few long moments.

<Of course sweetheart. How could you survive without me?> She chuckles to herself, and you feel the urge to punch someone again. 

A soft voice snaps you out of it. <Um…Your Majesty?> You finally notice Alice from her place down below. She looks a mix of exasperated, confused and terrified as she stands in the defendant’s chair. The Queen redirects her ire back to Alice as soon as she raises her voice. She screams like a banshee and roars like a violent loud animal. 

You take advantage of the noise to speak to Winston. “Winston I-”

He interrupts you, losing himself to his ramblings, <I’ve finally lost, haven’t I?> Winston laughs bitterly. <You’re not real, you’re just a figment of my imagination…>

“No. You haven’t and I’m not.” You push, desperate to make him see reason, “Alice has seen me before, I’m real!” You hurriedly whisper-yell. 

<Then if you’re real then you have to help Alice and you have to help me->

<HAPPY UNBIRTHDAY TO YOU!> A cake and teapots, and all the fixing that remind you of the buffet yesterday at Heartslabyul. The Queen and nearly everyone in the room are excitedly celebrating while Winston and Alice look exasperated. Seemingly exhausted from the shenanigans that are ensuing before you.

“W-What’s happening?” You raise an eyebrow in complete confusion. Yesterday an unbirthday party made sense because it was a party at a dorm then a trial room with a death sentence. 

Winston sighs in abject misery, <A trial.  I did it to save Alice from losing her head, but this nonsense is a trial. And I thought back home was crazy.>

You perk up at his words. Back home means that he’s not from wonderland so if that’s the case…Just to be sure, you ask. “You’re not from here?”

He looks at you curiously, still halfway between believing you’re real or not, <I-I’m from London, England. I came here by accident and have been stuck here ever since.>

“You know where London is?” You feel hope bloom in your chest, “Are you from Earth?”

<Yes, but->

You interrupt him in your budding excitement, “Then you have to help me! I’m stuck here, like you and Alice!”

<Regardless of whether you’re real or fake, I-I can’t help you! If Mary finds out, I tried to escape again, heads will roll! >

You haul the king up by his shirt. “Would you rather be stuck here forever?! If there’s a way out, we need to take it!” You can ignore the ‘being stuck here ever since’ part for now, because if he and Alice (who are real in this world) come from Earth and know about a way back, then that means there’s a way back to your world from Twisted Wonderland. Alice goes home at the end of the story, so there is a way back home for you in this world. And you need that way out. You just need to get to it. 

<I’ll help you on one condition.>

“Anything!”

<Help Alice. I can’t let another person die.> And then he shoves you. And then you're falling. You don’t even get the opportunity to scream as you’re pushed. Falling off that deathly edge, and hitting the floor hard. 

“Ow….” Damnit Winston, if you weren’t stuck in the same situation as him, you’d curse him out

<Miss, you’re back!> You slowly open your eyes to see Alice standing over you in worry, still completely black and white. <W-Where did you come from?>

“A place like you.” Alice lights up at your words,  “How’s your trial going?” only to deflate five seconds later. 

<It doesn’t make any sense, this trial doesn’t follow any rules.> You climb to your feet brushing off the imaginary dust off your dream self. 

“No, it does.” You’re forced to admit. “They’re just horrible rules.”

<Well, this really isn’t-> Whatever justifiable statement is cut off by the Queen being undistracted by the unbirthday celebrations. 

You don’t even know what happened next. 

One moment, Alice is pointing out the Cheshire Cat, her words, on the Queen’s head, and the next the Queen is a mess of jam and her torn flag, with a new bump on her crazy head. And Alice is holding the mallet and jam when the Queen finally clears her eyes. 

Winston bangs his head on the judges bench in defeat, at the sight of the mayhem.

“OFFF with-” the Queen interrupts herself, as Alice hurriedly stuffs her face with two pieces of something you don’t recognise. Her eyes go wide for a moment, as  her muscles twitch and her body contorts in places. She then grows over a mile high. Because of how rapidly she grew, you end up on the giantess Alice’s shoulders. 

<Oh, are you alright?> Alice asks, concerned. You give her a thumbs up in reply as the nausea in your gut trembles, before giving way. Now calmed, knowing one of her few friends here are okay, Alice focuses her attention on the tyrant whose red face has gone pale. <And as for you, Your Majesty….’Your Majesty,’ indeed!> The mushroom that Alice ate causes her to grow as tall as the trial room ceiling is high. You cling to her shoulder with your nails, not wanting to fall from this height. What crack did you smoke last night to dream this? Anyway,  Alice takes her moment to finally tell off the pompous queen, with all the confidence that a seven year old can have. 

The queen shrinks back in surprise at the seven-year old’s new size, and Alice chooses this to be the time to finally tell off the tyrant. 

<Why, you’re not a queen. You’re just a fat, pompous, bad-tempered old ty…tyrant…> As if Alice couldn’t get any more unlucky, the mushroom’s magic wears off as she starts to lay down the facts. Her confidence dies as she shrinks back to size.  You tumble off of Alice’s shoulder as she shrinks smaller and smaller. And the longer she speaks, the more the Queen’s glare gets more and more murderous.

<Mmhmmhmmhmm….> You, even at this distance, can see the fear painting across the King’s face and worry on Alice’s. This isn’t good, and the longer the Queen holds that note the more grim those looks become. You embrace the shaking girl. You can hear her whimpers of ear the longer this draws out. <What were you saying, my dear?>

A cat pops onto the head of the Queen, reminding you of Chenya even with the black and white, who parrots the, now shaking, Alice’s words. <Well, she simply said that you’re a fat, pompous, bad tempered old tyrant!> The cat cackles, as the Queen’s face turns red, contrasting the black and white.

<OOOOOOFFF with her head!!!>

You watch as the card soldiers jump from their seats to descend on the two of you as Alice clings to you for dear life, as the card shoulders dive to deliver her to her death sentence. 

But before the avalanche of card soldiers obscure everything from view, you can hear the King of Hearts beg his wife and captor to spare the poor girl. <Darling she’s just a child!>

And then the world blurs.

You’re back in your bed. Alice isn’t in your arms anymore, instead it’s Grim.

Why won’t anyone stop the queen? Someone could have stopped her.

AND THEN YOU COULD’VE GOTTEN YOUR EXIT!! FUCK!

Great. Winston had promised to help you if you helped Alice. And now you can’t go back till you go to bed! And that’s if Alice hasn’t gone home or lost her head yet! YAY!

You groan before sitting up, not expecting the violent pain in your neck. You then hiss in pain, just barely managing to massage the flesh locked under the collar. 

What a great way to start the morning. 

But there was some good news. The tyrant queen will get called out for her tyranny. That’s something to look forward to at the duel today. Still doesn’t make you feel any better though. 

“Ugh, Great.” You rub the exhaustion out of your eyes, to be face to face with Grim. 

“Hey, ____! Ah, good, you’re already up!” 

“Didn’t exactly have the best sleep.” Maybe you should tell grim about your dreams, just in case. But that’s a later thing, “Ready to get these collars off?” 

“Yeah!”

Back at the tyrant’s castle, er, Heartslabyul, the residents have all gathered in the magical battlegrounds within the rose garden. Why someone built a magical battlefield in the middle of a flammable rose maze must have been a tyrant themselves, because why someone didn’t bring up the flammable part at some point during the dorm’s construction was a question you’re not stupid enough to come up with an answer to.

Speaking of tyrants, Riddle must have gone on a power trip stoked by his tantrum yesterday. Because the number of students wearing collars, minus or plus Ace and Deuce pick one, has to have doubled in one night. Seriously, a good quarter of the audience has to be wearing collars. 

And because of said collars, this duel is going to go south real fast. Because Riddle’s already fucking cheating with his signature spell. Seriously, magic nullification should not be allowed in duels like this but for some reason it is.

But back to the duel of the century, for just Heartslabyul. The dorm residents have been gossiping since your group’s arrival….

“Did you hear? They say someone’s challenged Dorm Leader Rosehearts to a duel!”

“Riddle Rosehearts? Seriously?! Whoever it is has gotta be outta his mind. Riddle will have his head off in five seconds flat.”

…about how stupid this decision was. You mean, you agree, but they’re the ones living under a tyrant. Have a little positivity, everyone. 

Thankfully, there are few who have held onto the aforementioned positivity. 

“Still, it’s the first challenge since Rosehearts took power. I’m pumped!” In your opinion, the dorm should be like that guy. That guy has a little faith.

Also, Trey apparently didn’t warn Cater about the duel that was probably going viral on Heartslabyul’s Magicam, because he looks completely shocked as you told him about the shit preparing to hit the fan.  “You’re saying Ace and Deuce are challenging Riddle for the dorm leader’s seat?! Please tell me you’re kidding!”

You sigh, “I’m not, Cater. Wish I was.”

“We tried to stop ‘em.” Correction, Trey. YOU tried to stop them, he sat there and did nothing like with Riddle. Seriously, the bystander effect is strong with Trey; it's like he’s afraid of saying something when he needs to. Did Riddle’s mom traumatize him too!?

Cater looks positively miserable at the revelation. “Of all the stupid ideas…I just hope this doesn’t make everything worse.”

“You and me both.” Trey agrees, but now you're both curious and concerned. Just how much worse is worse?

Crowley’s clearing of his throat silences the crowd’s chatter. Kinda concerning that he's more focused on two students dueling a dorm leader than the rampant abuse of power that’s going on in this dorm, but whatever it’s not like negligence is a crime or something. Though it probably isn’t given your experience so far. 

“We are about to commence two challenges for the dorm leader position at Heartslabyul House.” He announces as grandiose as possible. “The first challenger is Ace Trappola, the second challenger is Deuce Spade. The current housewarden they have challenged is Riddle Rosehearts.”

“Now, in accordance with the duel rules, please remove the magic-sealing collars as they would provide an unfair disadvantage.” Oh, you were waiting for that.

Riddle snaps his fingers and the collars dissolve away into sparks, leaving behind red marks around Ace and Deuce’s necks. Given Ace has been stuck in that thing for two nights you can’t imagine the relief he must feel. “Ah! FINALLY, the dumb collar is off!”

Yours and Grim’s are still on though. Oh, did he just forget that you and Grim were collateral damage to yesterday’s rampage? You can feel your rage rising. 

“Enjoy your moment of freedom. The collar will be back on soon enough.” Riddle’s cocky smirk looks so punchable, and you feel an itch in your fingers. Still cockiness might be his downfall. 

But before that…..

“Hey, Rosehearts!” You call out, “ Just to point something out,” You say as sarcastically and humorlessly as possible, “could you please remove mine and Grim’s. We’re not even in your dorm!” Riddle sighs, as if you’ve been bugging him about this for hours, before finally unlocking the literal weight around your and Grim’s necks. And you breathe a sigh of relief. “Thank you.” The ‘Asshole’ part goes unsaid, for fear of making this worse.

Now, that the cone of shame on your neck is gone you can let them return back to the pre-duel banter. “Carry on.” You say with a dismissive wave of your hand.

Riddle hmphs, returning his focus back to his two challengers. “I could hardly believe it when I heard you two intended to duel me. Is this a joke?”

There’s a “Do I look like I’m joking?” from Ace and a “I’d never propose a duel as a joke!” from Deuce. They’re not backing down now. 

“Hmph. Have it your way. Let us get this over with.” Indeed, let’s get this over with, because you might have a room to clear out when this eventually fizzles out. That doesn’t mean you won’t cheer for Ace and Deuce, Bravery is still something to praise even if it’s on par with stupidity.

But like before, Cater intervenes when he really shouldn’t, “Uh, Riddle, what do you want to do about today's afternoon tea?”

“A foolish question. You know that the rules stipulate I take my tea everyday at 4 PM sharp.” Oh, so he’s cocky that he can finish this in, what, thirty minutes. 

“It’s just that it’s already past 3:30….”

“And you fear that I will be late? All the more reason to end this promptly.” So he’s very cocky. You can only hope it will be his downfall. 

“It appears I have little time to waste. Rather than facing my opponents in succession, I will take on both at once.” Oh. Wow, he’s…..he’s arrogant if he thinks that. Well, Ace and Deuce are probably screwed. 

The cheers of the dorm residents fill the air as stiff and empty as they were yesterday. 

“You can do it, Dorm Leader!”

“Knock ‘em dead, sir!”

You can see Trey shake his head to your  right, so he still hasn’t said anything. Coward.

“Cowards,” you hear Deuce say, and you agree, because you’re looking right at one. To say that you don’t want to hurt his feelings after a hard time, when you’re letting him force that hard time onto others is the definition of cowardice.

“Myah, I got a bad feelin’ about this.” You squeeze Grim tighter. 

“I do too, Grim.” 

“Hey, at least we got a plan!” A plan that already hangs on by a thread, Ace but you’ll accept his confidence. 

“Headmaster, please give us the signal.” Riddle’s already sure of his victory even before it starts, and he might be right, but a part of you wants him to suffer, just a little.

“When the mirror, I’ve thrown shatters upon the ground, that is your signal to begin. Ready…Go!” 

“You guys can do it!” You offer them some encouragement, but….

“OFF WITH YOUR HEADS!” You saw the way this battle ends from miles away.

If you're being generous, you’ll call that another deja vu moment. This insanity of constant ‘beheadings’ is starting to become grating. But, you hope the ending of the calling out part comes sooner rather than later. 

“That was…..fast.” You say glumly, it’s sad that they failed so quickly but at least they tried. It had to be, what, 5 seconds into the duel before the collars locked on and it was over. Saddening, upsetting but expected. 

Well, now what?

“Visualization is key to spell casting.” Crowley starts an unhelpful speech about magic. It’s not really helpful in this situation, because if Riddle has his way from now on Ace and Deuce are going to be wearing those collars till Riddle graduates. “The better you are at accurately visualizing your magic’s effect, the stronger and more precise it will be.”

“They lost in less than ten seconds, you’re not helping Crowley.” You point out the explicitly obvious, because it doesn’t fucking matter about how visualisation is important when a. They lost before they cast a single spell, and b. They can’t even use their magic to practice now. “Still, it would appear Mr.Rosehearts has finely honed his magic.” Ouch, salt in the wound. Stroke the tyrant’s ego even more too. Crowley’s just batting zero right now. 

“Myah…They didn’t stand a chance.” Grim bemoans at the loss. 

You sigh, “Well at least they tried….” it wasn’t really an attempt even but at the very least. You force a smile on your face as you approach your two friends, “You guys did your best, or were going to your best..” You add unhelpfully, before giving them each a gentle smile. . You might have to just let them stay it seems.

Ace opens his mouth to reply but someone else does to add their unhelpful commentary. “Hardly. They didn’t even last five seconds.” You can hear Ace and Deuce growl as you turn to face the cocky tyrant. 

 That cocky, self-righteous brat keeps adding his unwanted opinion. “That was all you had, and still you thought to challenge me? You must be utterly humiliated.”

You glare at him, “You won already. Stop rubbing it in.”

Riddle’s too high on his high horse to seem to be aware of what happens below. “I guess my mother was right. A man who cannot follow rules is a man who cannot achieve anything.” You’re going to put a knife between that woman’s eyes if you ever meet up. Mommy undearest’s parenting has screwed him up so much that he’s doing the same thing to the people he lives with.

If Ace or Deuce actually won this battle he probably would have been run out of the dorm.

“Tch…We agree that rules should be followed. But forcing others to follow nonsensical rules like the ones you’ve enacted is tyranny!” 

“Then you agree that breaking the rules is wrong. And in this dorm, I AM the rules.” Is…is he serious? Did he miss the second part of Deuce’s sentence? “Therefore, those who cannot abide by my decisions deserve not the heads they use to complain!”

You had enough of this.

You’ve bit your tongue bloody, thanks to this brat’s tyranny.  You've been inconvenienced again and again because of his pretentious and frankly ridiculous rules.

 Screw manners, screw survival, and screw this red-haired little absolutist pain the ass! “But that’s not right! You can’t just use the rules to do whatever you please!” You yell in fury. 

“I am the one who decides what is wrong and right-”

You cut him off. “And you’re also a pain in the neck and the ass, that pretends he’s the perfect student that can do no wrong, because mommy said so!” His eyes widen in shock as you finally, finally go off the leash you tethered to yourself this entire time. And you’re not done. “How can you be so blinded by your own delusions that you can’t even see how unreasonable it is to follow, frankly, the most STUPID of rules!?!” You can feel your cheeks warming and the blood in your ears roaring in boiling hot fury. You can feel someone try to calm your rage with a hand, Deuce’s, on your shoulder. You’re pissed and tired and angry and what does he do?

He continues talking like you didn’t say anything. “If there were no penalties, no one would follow the rules.” You;re going to punch him. 

“You!-” What he says next cuts your thoughts and words off completely.

“What sort of pitiful education have you received, that you cannot follow such simple rules? Clearly, you were born to parents with no great magical capability. As a result…you lack even the basic education necessary to attend a school such as this. It’s quite sad.”

You blink, taken aback. The rage in you is stunned into pacification. 

He did not. 

He did not just say that about you.

“You-” You can’t even string your thoughts together completely stunned. You can forgive someone being unreasonableYou feel something different from rage, something stronger, boiling inside you. 

“You little…” Deuce releases you, prepared to pummel the tyrant into the ground but…..

“You shut your spoiled little mouth!” Ace dashes forward fist raised and-

He punches Riddle clean across the face. 

Hard enough to knock Riddle off his feet. Ace quite literally beat Deuce to the punch. 

So many voices speak up in shock and surprise at Riddle, the untouchable dorm leader, finally eating his just desserts. Right in the face too.

You don’t say anything, staring at what’s about to unfold, with a blank expression.

“That’s all I can take. Forget Riddle. Forget the duel. I’m done.” Just like Alice in your dreams last night, calls out the now stunned red sovereign.

“That hurt! You…p-punched me?!” Riddle’s genuinely stunned. Is stunned by his house of cards finally starting to collapse around him? You can’t bring yourself to care. 

Ace spits some facts. 

“Kids aren’t trophies for their parents to flaunt. And the accomplishments of a child aren’t determined by the worth of their parents. It’s  not your parents’ fault you became a tyrant -or anyone else’s. You’ve been here a year and haven’t even made a friend who will tell you you’re outta line. And that’s on you.”

“What are you even talking about?” 

“Yeah, maybe you had some rigid upbringing from a relentless helicopter-mom. Is that all you are? An extension of her? Can’t you think for yourself? You call yourself the ‘red sovereign’. You’re just a baby who’s good at magic.”

“Baby…? Did you just call me a ‘baby’?! You don’t know anything about me! You don’t know anything about anything!” But despite the honest truths that Ace is trying to make the pretentious tyrant hear for what has to be the first time in his life, Riddle refuses to listen.

“Nope, sure don’t. And I don’t need to. Your attitude tells me all I need to know- that you’re nothing but a spoiled brat!” Ace doesn’t let up on the lecture Riddle probably needed to hear last year. 

Riddle’s face is starting to turn pink from his blind anger. “Shut up, shut up, shut UP! My mother was right! And that means I’m right too!” Riddle practically roars in anger. He’s shaking from barely repressed rage. 

Trey steps between them to prevent what has to be a near disaster, trying to pacify the screaming tyrant. “Riddle, calm down. The duel is already over.”

“Mr. Clover is correct.” Crowley  The challenger has been disqualified due to physical violence. If you do not cease your conflict now, I’ll have you written up for breaking school rules!” But even with the threat of breaking his own personal rules and being a rule breaker himself doesn’t soothe his rage. It doesn’t matter here anyway, because as long as no one is willing to stand up to-

“Ace is right, though! I’ve had enough of Riddle!” A voice in the crowd shouts, and he throws something small aimed directly at Riddle’s head.

An egg cracks in Riddle’s hair. Egg goop trails down his face. You fight back a laugh with all your willpower. Well, color you impressed. The card soldiers aren't completely useless, brain dead drones. 

For half a second everyone is frozen solid. And then the egg practically cooks on Riddle’s face as he searches for the offender, completely infuriated. “Who did that? Who threw that egg?!”

And this time, the silence feels both suffocating and glorious. At least the cowards have finally stood up for themselves, at least a little. Unfortunately Riddle, instead of taking the obvious hint the egg to the face was, he laughs. And it’s not a composed one.

“Heh heh…Ah ha ha ha!”  It’s an insane one.

Riddle snaps at all of the now cowering dorm students“You say YOU’RE fed up?! I’M the one who’s fed up with all of YOU!” 

“No matter how strict I am, no matter how many heads I remove, you keep breaking the rules! All any of you care about is doing what YOU want to do! If the guilty party won’t come forward, then I’ll pass judgment on all of you!”

“Clearly, none of you value your heads! OFF WITH YOUR HEADS!!!” Like a tyrant gone wild, collars lock on to every single one of the residents' necks, save Trey and Cater, sealing off their magic.  You’re getting real tired of hearing that. 

The Heartslabyul residents scatter like headless, heh pun unintended but fitting, chickens. “Bwaaah! Let’s get out of here!” “Urrrgh!” 

Riddle, reassured that his tyranny will last,  shoves past Ace to rub in his ‘victory’ to Ace.“How do you like that, hm? Now no one can do a thing to me! Do you see now? My strict adherence to the rules was clearly the correct path!”

Crowley still does nothing to calm, or now that Riddle’s actually broken some rules, to punish Riddle for this insanity. “Cease this improper behavior now, Mr. Rosehearts. I expect better from you!”

“Crowley, could you maybe actually do something!?!” You finally point out the utter stupidity of him not doing anything while Riddle literally abuses his power. 

“Uh…Trey, if he keeps using his spell…This could get ugly, fast!” You barely hear Cater over the chaos.

Trey does, still trying to separate the fuming  Riddle away from Ace and a catastrophe. “Riddle, stop this!”

Ace might be perspective but he’s incapable of reading the room when shit really starts to go bad. “Wow, way to totally prove me wrong here, pal! I call you a baby and you immediately throw a temper tantrum!”

Riddle’s face goes deep crimson. “Retract your comment immediately, or I shall skewer you where you stand!” He yells. 

This might not be good.

Ace doesn’t let up “No way. I ain’t retraction’ squat.”

Face red, eyes full of rage and mania, Riddle’s reached the point of fury where words are impossible and yells of anger are the only sounds that can be made. “YEEEAAARGH!!!”

“Dude, this is bad! You’ve G-2-G, now!” You feel a hand on your wrist, Cater's, dragging you away from the rampaging tyrant.

And then you're blinded by the debris.The earth shakes for too long as the rose bushes are yanked out of the earth, the fragile yet heavy bushes floating high in the air. Ripped up from their earth , roots and all, and float in mid-air. The roses and their thorny brambles writhe under Riddle’s magic.

Debris and dirt float through the air, alongside the rose bushes. 

“W…Whoa…” You take a nervous step back, “Shit.” 

“The rose trees! They’re floating!”

“This is some serious magic!”

The roses and their brambles might not be the strongest weapon, but Riddle’s magical strength is powerful, as you watch the roses and branches become arrows, perfect for tearing flesh from bone and crushing the rest. 

“Mighty roses, tear this brute to pieces!” Riddle yells, completely blinded at his anger. The roses, thorns and all fly like arrows aimed directly at Ace. A deadly shot, if it lands.

“Ace! MOVE!” You dash forward, but a pair of arms are around your waist holding you back from the barrage of arrows aimed at your friend. You look around frantically and you see who’s stopping you from helping the first friend you made here. It’s Deuce. When did he get next to you? Nevermind. “Lemme go! Ace needs help!” 

Deuce shakes his head with a remorseful expression. “I can’t let you get hurt!”

Since you can’t get to Ace, “Crowley! DO something!” You yell at the Headmaster who’s done jack diddly since Riddle’s tantrum progressed into hemorrhage. All he’s done here is politely ask Riddle to stop, and Ace might actually die if Riddle keeps at this. 

“Cease and desist at once!” Crowley doesn’t do anything, but yells at him to stop, and Riddle’s already too angry to listen.

But it’s too late for any one to push Ace out of the way, 

“ACE!” You can’t even shut your eyes as the roses and brambles come down. You take back every thing you’ve ever said about Ace, and this world if it means you don’t witness him being killed….

…..By playing cards?

Instead of roses and their thorns tearing Ace to shreds….playing cards fall from the sky.

“Huh? I’m still alive?” Ace is as stunned as you and everyone else here. 

Deuce is probably as stunned as you, because his arms go limp, and you practically tackle Ace, “Are you okay!?” Your arms and legs are jelly from adrenaline, but you manage to stumble over and check him over with trembling hands. 

“Y-Yeah,”He answers and you sigh in clear relief.  What’s with all these playing cards?”

“All the rose trees turned into cards?” Deuce is right, All the roses and their brambles are gone. Instead it’s all playing cards. And nothing more. How did that even happen?!

Wait. Deja vu again, this keeps happening. Cards falling against an innocent. But there’s no time for that. 

Because Riddle’s face is murderous, and his grip on his magical staff is so tight it could have snapped in half. He raises it again, prepared to recast as “Why didn’t you-”

Deuce dives in between you and Ace, to act as human shield but Trey stops him, shielding you all from Riddle’s view. “Riddle, stop this right now!” Oh, so NOW Trey decides enough is enough, murder was the last straw. Wonderful. 

“Wait, is that Trey’s ‘Paint the Roses’?! But…how?!” You can hear a confused Cater, and thank goodness, because Trey saved Ace’s life. 

“All the magic sealin’ collars are gone!” Grim’s right, You didn’t even notice in the mayhem. Ace and Deuce, and probably all the Heartslabyul residents, all have their magic-sealing collars removed. 

“What did I tell you? My magic can overwrite characteristics for a short time. So I used it to make ‘Riddle’s magic’ into ‘my magic’.” Trey’s explanation lets you breathe a sigh of genuine relief. At least now, Riddle is defenseless.

“You can do that? That’s some kinda loophole!” And a lucky loophole to test on someone about to die.

Meanwhile in Crazy town, Riddle’s discovered his magic’s no longer his own. “N-no…Off with their heads! I SAID, off with their heads!” Every attempt Riddle makes to cut off everyone’s magic just causes more and more playing cards to fly out. But depending on how short the time Trey’s magic can work, that might not be for long. Especially with how many times Riddle tries recasting. 

Trey finally puts his foot down. “Riddle, stop. Can’t you see how you look right now?”

You can’t believe that this is what it took to finally open the eyes of the residents. Ace nearly being murdered because Riddle’s ego got bruised. At least now, their eyes have been opened to the true extent of Riddle’s cruelty. 

Which they decide to vocalize in the presence of the tyrant with the bruised ego. They’re not very smart. are they? 

“He…he was really gonna do it!” “He is completely out of control.” “He’s like some kinda monster!”

Thankfully, and unfortunately, Riddle isn’t focused on that. Instead, he’s more concerned with the fact that his magic isn’t his anymore. And Trey is the reason. “What? Was my magic overwritten by yours? Does that mean your signature spell is stronger than mine?!” He demands, turning on the only one who ever really defended him in his madness. 

“Of course it doesn’t. Riddle, take a deep breath and listen to us.” Trey tries to reason, but it’s too late for Riddle to be reasonable, with him already lost in the throes of his anger.

You start to feel a chill up your spine, like back in the mines with that monster. But why are you-

Still completely unreasonable, Riddle’s still deaf to Trey's words, “Are YOU going to tell me that I’m wrong too? After all I’ve done to protect the rule of law?! Do you know how much I’ve suffered for this?! I…I refuse to believe this!” That chill gets worse, and the ominous and malicious feeling you’re getting from Riddle gets worse. Something much darker. A line of dark blood drips from Riddle’s nose. Wait, that’s not blood. Blood isn’t….black.

You might be angry about earlier, but unlike Riddle, you haven’t lost your wits. You can tell when things are nose-diving into a downward spiral at terminal velocity. Because the longer Riddle spits his mad ravings, the more of that black stuff comes out.

You normally wouldn’t do this, mostly because you want to punch the bastard. But that inky stuff has to be a bad omen. “Riddle, you need to calm down.” You try to soothe the raging beast, even though you’re sure that this is a bad idea. “You don’t want to be a rulebreaker, right? So just calm down and we’ll talk this out.”

“Wha-OW!” Ace looks at you as if you’d gone insane too, but you elbowed him harshly in the gut. 

Riddle’s angry glare falls on you. And you could see the veins starting to twitch under his skin. If he gets any more angry, then he might have a stroke. “ I! AM NOT! A RULE BREAKER!” He yells, his own rage leaving him breathless. “AND YOU! OF ALL PEOPLE! HAVE NO RIGHT TO SAY THAT!”

“I’m just trying to calm you down, you don’t really want to break the rules by hurting anyone, do you?” You hope he doesn’t actually want to hurt anyone. Plus, you’re really not ready to witness someone’s death. 

Riddle’s face is so red, it looks like it might explode. And his glare could kill you and cook the remains with how fiery it is. 

He snaps, his voice laden with venom. 

“YOU! DARLINGS LIKE YOU! ARE WHY WE NEED THE RULES! YOU HAVE NO RIGHT TO SAY THAT TO ME!”

…..What.

Did he just- 

No way, he just did. He did. 

Shit. Shit...SHIT. 

FUCK YOU, RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS!

You did NOT go through all that shit for him to reveal it to everyone here in a fit of rage. No fuck him, fuck this, whatever shit he has going on can wait because you need this bastard’s neck to be the other way round. 

You feel fire burn under your skin. You’re gonna-

“Wait, wha-” You hear , and you don’t even have the ability to freeze up in terror. Because you gotta disperse the potential nightmare of Ace and Deuce finding out. Even if they don’t believe him, the doubt will remain. So you’re basically fried. 

“It’s nothing!” You frantically yell to cut off whatever Ace or  Deuce were going to say as fast as you can as you feel your heart speed up in total panic.  You’ll be lucky if they think this is a psychotic rambling of a raging tyrant. This just keeps getting worse and worse for you. 

If Riddle doesn’t get killed in this madness, then he owes you an apology and you owe him a big, fat fist to the face. 

Meanwhile as you prepare for your own mental breakdown, Crowley maintains his complete and utter uselessness, even though he probably has the power to stop this. “Cease immediately, Mr. Rosehearts! Any further attempt to use magic will leave your magestone completely tainted with blot!”

What is blot?! 

And why is Riddle-

“But….I’m right! I’M the one who’s right! There is NO! POSSIBLE! ALTERNATIVE!” Thick, black inky substance  comes out of his eyes and ears. 

“Riddle, stop!” Trey’s words can’t pull Riddle out of his madness and likely never will. 

Because all that black ink dripping out of nearly every pore, staining his skin and clothes, pools around him for only a few seconds. Before it engulfs him, swallowing him whole. 

And like a caterpillar metamorphosing into a horrific butterfly…..

…..he comes out a monster.

Like a horrible chrysalis bursting open, Riddle comes out changed. 

His skin is so pallid, the color could have been mistaken for bone. A red flame is positioned over his right eye, glowing an unnatural color. The ink that bleed out of his skin sticks to his arm and face like tar. And most identifiably, he’s dressed like the Queen of Hearts. Sort of, if she was beheaded and her body was thrown in her beloved rose garden to be torn apart by the hedgehogs. (A fitting fate in your eyes)

The tyrant has changed to match his predecessor, both over-controlling monsters. 

But that’s not the most terrifying part of it. 

There’s also the giant hulking beast tethered to Riddle’s back.  And that’s the most defining feature. Because that thing matches your dreams of the Queen of Hearts. The monster is dressed in a dress nearly identical to the one from your second dream. She’s even carrying a rose bush, torn from another world’s ground.

This is not good. And you’re suddenly very afraid of what will happen next.

The possessed? Riddle cackles, “You are fools to defy me! You are not welcome in my world. In my world, I am the law. I am order made manifest!” His voice is warped and distorted as if someone otherworldly is speaking through him.

“The only response I will accept from you is ‘Yes, Dorm Leader Riddle.’ All who defy me will lose their heads! Ah ha ha ha HA!” 

“Dear me, what have I done? I’ve allowed a student to overblot in my presence!” What the fuck is overblot!?

“Crowley? What the HELL is overblot!?” You demand an explanation to this madness, because Riddle is both a monster, and has a massive monster connected to his spine. Seriously, what the shit is this!?!

“Overblot is a dangerous condition that mages must avoid at all costs. At the moment, he is overcome by negative energy and has lost control of his magic and emotions.”

“Okay but what does that mean?!” 

“Please explain!”

“To put it in layman’s terms, he’s in evil berserker mode!”

“If he keeps releasing magical energy, we could be looking at a loss of life here- his included.” 

“WHAT!” You feel your eye twitch, “CROWLEY! WHY DIDN’T YA JUST TELL ME ALL THIS SHIT WHEN I GOT HERE!!” It can’t be that hard, can it? How hard is it to give the unfortunate transfer student from another world or dimension a simple crash-course of ‘hey, here’s some things you should know about our world!’, for crap’s sake. 

“Ms. ____-” 

“Nevermind, Crowley! We’ll deal with the evil giant monster thing now, I’ll freak out later!” And freak out you will. Riddle outed you, overblotted and could kill someone or multiple someones if this shit goes south. Forget punching him, you’re going to beat him so bad that smug arrogant face of his will be unrecognizable when you're done with him.You are fucking tired of this shit already, and when you think it’s bad it just gets worse.

“Yes! The well-being of my students is my top priority. Therefore, I must evacuate them immediately.”

“Y-You’re not staying?”. You say weakly. Was the bar for headmaster requirements in hell? Yes, there is a giant monster/dorm leader attacking the running and hiding Heartslabyul residents but this is a MAGIC school for shit’s sake. “No, but as for Mr.Rosehearts, we must restore his consciousness before his magical energy runs dry.” Damnit Crowley! “For as bad as losing him would be, there are scenarios that are far worse…” WHAT’S WORSE?!?!

“Listen well: I need all of you to seek help from the other housewardens and members of faculty.” But how the hell are going to all evacuate and summon the other housewardens if Riddle is-

While the exposition dump was happening, the beast behind Riddle follows his body movements, and still fueled by all the anger that caused this whole mess to start in the first place, raises the rose bush like a club, prepared to strike down one of the unfortunate Heartslabyul students.

Ace and Deuce finally allowed to use their magic, do what they’ve wanted to do since yesterday. Strike the pretentious dorm leader down.

“HIIYAH! TAKE THAT!” A strong magical gust knocks the beast’s weapon away from its original target. And annoys the furious Riddle. 

“Huh!? Trey, Cater and Crowley look and sound bewildered at the attack, but you feel a rush of pride. 

“I summon thee, cauldron!” Deuce takes advantage of Riddle’s change in focus to strike. With his infamous cauldron spell. Riddle manages to dodge it, but at least he’s not attacking the students any more!

“MYAH!” Grim leaps out of your arms to join the attacks, sending a wave of blue fire along with Ace and Deuce’s own attacks. 

Now even more pissed ( a surprise to be honest) Riddle fumes at their lack of submission. “What do you fools think you’re doing?”

“Um, hello?! 911? We’ve got an idiot emergency!” Cater’s internet talk doesn’t fade in times of high stress.

Grim, acting unlike his usual selfish self, actually points out the most frightening part of this, “You DID hear that part about how reeeal bad things are happenin’ with him, right?!”

“That’s why we need to stop him now! I don’t want that on my conscience!” Yah, Riddle straight up sucks but risking the deaths of others to save yourself from certain death is cowardly, and unlike the rampager, you’re not a hypocrite. 

“And I’m not givin’ up till I hear him say, ‘I was wrong and I’m sorry.’”

You’re convinced, “Yeah, he owes me an apology for the shit he put me through!!”

“All right, let’s do this. I can overwrite his magic for a little longer. In the meantime, do what you can! Headmage, please evacuate the other students!”

“Wait! This is dangerous!”

“Are you S-R-S, Trey? You can’t beat Riddle!”

“So what, you’re not even gonna fight unless you KNOW you can win?”

“Yeah, he’s right. That’s weak.”

“This is the only way we can think of to snap him out of this!”

“Yeah…I don’t want to lose him. There’re too many things I’ve left unsaid.”

“We just have to do this, whatever it takes!” You might not be able to do magic, but you’ll help….somehow. 

“Ugh, I do NOT like or subscribe to this, but fine!”

Ngh…I’ll be back as soon as I’ve gotten the students to safety. Stand firm until then!”

“Such defiance, from every last one of you! I shall take all of your heads!”

“Riddle’s body can’t take much more of this. We need to stop him before it’s too late!”

Things are going…..well enough. 

Because how in every layer of hell can you describe this? At all? It’s not everyday that you watch a magician go into berserker mode and try to kill his ‘underlings’ or really equals he’s un/knowingly been abusing for who knows how long?

Here’s the good news. 

Trey’s magic makes the fight easier for them. Replacing Riddle’s UM makes the battle actually possible. 

Cater’s Spilt Card, makes the perfect distraction ones, that he can use as human shields as Riddle strikes.

Even Ace, Deuce and Grim’s inexperience manages to turn the tide. Wind, cauldrons and fire join a barrage of more sophisticated and more complicated spells of the third-years is the perfect combination of brute strength and complicated strategy. 

But here’s the bad news. 

Riddle’s fast. Very fast. 

For every one spell the others cast, Riddle can cast two. and moves twice as fast to replace every one Trey replaces. Which should be impossible with all of his magical energy and life force being drained away but it seems whether he’s a horrific monster or a tyrannical dictator, he’s still a magical prodigy.

What your friends need is a distraction. And they need one fast. And while you might not have magic, you’re not completely powerless here. 

Why? 

Because Riddle’s earlier pique was kind enough to dislodge plenty of stones that once were the floor of the battle ground. Small and light enough for you to carry. Large and heavy enough to leave a nasty bruise or a nice headache.

All you hope is that you have good aim. Because this better land right in the face. 

Even with the hail of magic sending wind, ice, fire, cauldrons and other magical bursts in Riddle’s direction, you’re safely hidden in the background and the beast attached to him is otherwise preoccupied with the aforementioned magic, so it’s easy to sneak away. 

You wrap your hand around one of the loose stones of the destroyed battlegrounds, and sneak behind the bushes till you’re a good distance away from the others with a broad distance away from him and that monster. “Hey Rosehearts!” You yell.

He turns to you with a death glare that could actually cut off your head. But as soon as his gaze has fallen on you, you throw the stone as hard as you can.

It hits him square in the forehead. 

Riddle doesn’t even have the time to cry out in pain, as he and the phantom monster stumble back, dazed.

“HA! Take that you controlling bastard!” Sure, you’re saving his life in the process, but considering he just outed you, kicking his ass through this is actually one hell of a relief.

Everyone takes advantage of the distraction you made to send another barrage of magic against Riddle. Still dazed from your strike to his head, probably combined with the damage the overblot was taking on his body, he’s much slower. 

So now, every strike lands without fail, and Riddle barely has time to retaliate now. And that changes the tide of the battle. 

With every new strike, the monster’s body starts to distort and parts of its body start to writhe and twist. The darkness glowing underneath starts to distort and warp. The roots holding it to Riddle's body start to sever. The monster’s distorted roars start to soften, turning weaker. 

“Is it over?” You ask. You feel safe enough to go closer, now that the monster’s body starts to sway and collapse. Riddle looks like he’s about to pass out. “Is he going to die?”

“He better not. He still needs to apologize to me!” Ace 

You sigh in relief for half a second. And the blot around Riddle swarms him. 

You don’t know what switched on within you. You hate this guy. You want to see him suffer a little, or more specifically a lot.

“Henchman!” 

So you don’t know why you ran when you did, or why you grabbed Riddle’s wrist like a vice right before his body disappeared into the mess of dark ink. You grabbed on as tight as you can,  just as the monster finally burst. 

Thick ink, scalding hot like Riddle’s burning rage, hits your skin and burns your face. You scream in reflex, and your mouth burns from the hot, bitter ink entering it. You choke on the blot. It burns. It coats you, covers you, drowns you and your vision swims. But your grip doesn’t let up. 

“_____!!!” You hear many voices screaming your name. But you can’t see them. The burning black ink falls like rain, obscuring your friends from view.

All you can feel is that overwhelmingly painful and smothering burn of the ink…but the last thing your senses pick up on before you pass out isn’t the burn on your skin, the bitterness in your mouth, or the voices of your friends.

It’s a voice.

“I…was wrong?! But that’s…impossible…”

A sad, anguished voice. The sad, anguished voice of Riddle Rosehearts.

“Isn’t it….Mother?”

[vigilante24ish]

🌙 Moon Phases 🌙

Agatha Harkness X Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1304

Chapter 39:

The first thing you saw was... well, nothing. Your vision was black even though you were clearly blinking your eyes, which meant something was obscuring your vision.

You did not feel any blindfolds or anything physically covering your eyes, but you tried to check it with your fingers... only to sense a barrier.

A quick frantic search made you realize that you were trapped somewhere now, the sound of plastic rubbing against one another; giving you the idea of being trapped in a bag.

You froze for a second, as your mind started to think and realize where you were. Once the image of a body bag flashed into your mind, your heart started to beat faster.

Your moves became more frantic as you were reminded of the clothed mask worn on you during your waterboarding torture from those witch hunters. Your breathing changed, and your chest started to ache, forgetting you could use your powers to have some light or even escape.

Eventually, your constant shoving and hitting managed to find the zipper. Once it moved and the first rays of light entered, you headed for it like a swimmer out of air.

Your fingers passed through the small gap, and you pulled the zipper down, allowing the bag to open and you to shot up so fast; your vision blurred with black spots for a moment.

One hand was holding the front of your white hospital gown as you tried to breathe, your wide eyes looking at Agatha and Billy; both sitting inside their own bodybags.

The sight of them, especially for Agatha, slowly helped you to calm down, but stress was within your body.

At least now, you could focus on the room you were in; of what the next trial was supposed to be. It definitely did not do much to help your fast beating heart, considering the room looked a lot like a morgue.

The more you took notice of it, the more you realized that it was a morgue room. Purple tinted flurescent lights were above you, giving a more haunting aura to the room.

Endless morgue drawers were placed against the wall, only three out; each one for Billy, Agatha, and You.

You parted your lips, focusing on your irregular breathing as your eyes met Billy's dark ones and Agatha's blue ones.

"Are you okay, Y/N?" He asked, seeing you emerging from that body bag with that terrified expression on your face.

You nodded your head, unable to answer as you tried to push away any haunting feelings that were awakened by the transition between the road and this trial.

Suddenly, another morgue drawer was pulled open by an invisible force; another body bag in it. The shouts and begs of Jen made you realize it was her inside and was panicking, having not understood yet where she was or how to escape.

Billy got up and went to help her, but Agatha stopped him.

"Don't steal her struggle," she said, her eyes never leaving you; a hidden worry of your wellbeing growing within her heart.

At last, Jen managed to open the zipper and pull her body up; while everyone gave her time to focus and calm down.

"Where are we?" Jen finally asked as you all climbed off the morgue tables.

"Uh... Oh. My basement. Give or take." Agatha speculated as everyone started to explode the room.

You remained oddly quiet and marched towards the steps you could see. If this was Agatha's basement, then maybe there was a way out... or perhaps the trial was in a different room.

You reached for the closed doors, only to find them locked.

Usually, you would have just stepped back, but the idea of being trapped in that small room underground started to bring back haunting memories of your times with the witch hunters.

Acting on pure survival instincts, you tried to bang and pull and push the doors with all your might; each attempt was more desperate than the other as your breathing changed once again; becoming rapid.

The others tried to call your name, surprised by your outburst. However, all you could hear was your laboured breath and the sound of blood passing through your veins; each beat of your heart echoed inside your head.

"Y/N!" Agatha called your name, but you didn't listen.

To her surprise, it was Jen who acted physically. She grabbed your wrists and pulled you away from the door, careful not to make you trip down the small steps.

"Y/N!" She called your name loud enough as she started to shake you. "It's locked!" She told you, hoping somehow her words bypass your walls and reach the logical part of your mind. "We will pass this trial and get out of here," she continued as you slowly stopped fighting.

Eventually, you started to focus on the present, your breathing becoming more stable, but your heart was not so quick to drop its beats. Yet it was something, and it was evident to the other witches as you started to calm down; enough for Jen to let you go.

"Sorry," you breathed out and took a few steps back, feeling ashamed at losing control that way.

"Y/N, are you okay?" Billy asked, looking at you with worry.

You were always the calmer in this group, the most grounded one. Even during the ghost and possession moments, you remained logical and focused.

To see you reacting like that, it shocked but also worried him. What could have happened to you to trigger such a reaction?

His mind went back to your scars, your encounter with the witch hunters, but he had no idea of what truly happened with them. Considering he could not read your mind, he left him as clueless as the rest.

"Yeah... bad memories..." You muttered and cleared your throat, trying to focus on anything than them.

Agatha's gaze was the one you could feel the most, but you did not dare to let your eyes meet, afraid of how she would look at you.

You hated when others looked at you with sympathy, thinking of you as some weak little girl when you possessed power beyond their comprehension. You hated when others thought of you as fragile.

You hated when Agatha was worried about you, knowing she feared of losing you like she did with Little Nicky.

You were meant to be the strong one to protect her. You were the one to support her, to be there for her when she needed you.

And while it was only logical that she should be the same to you... you simply couldn't let it happen. It was rare whenever it happened, and you knew it was one of your biggest flaws.

And so, you focused on the room.

Agatha's eyes kept following you, her face not hiding her worry for you. She had never seen you react like that, except for the first trial with the illusions.

Until now...

She didn't know what caused it or what dark memory was taking over your mind, but she knew it was deep. She would recognise the basic instincts of fear and the need to flee on pretty much anyone.

Considering how you reacted to the body bag and now to the sealed room, she feared that whatever happened with those witch hunters scarred you deeper than you let her know.

Those men were lucky they were dead cause when she would get her powers back, she was going to come after them, and nothing would be able to save them from her rage.

To save the day, once again, was none other than Billy. He had this feeling to check something, and when he approached his body bag, he realized his instincts were correct.

"Check this out!" He called you all over.

Chapter 40

[1toomanyfictionalbfs]

bad dreams

Spencer Reid x gn! reader

summary: you wake in the middle of the night seeing your boyfriend wide awake still shaken up from the nightmare he had awoken from.

warnings : really none, small bit of angst, pretty boy being sweet, fluffy

word count : idk maybe 0.4K

a/n : okay so I haven’t finished criminal minds yet but after watching season 1 episode 10 this has been stuck in my mind and I need to write it but, I just love Spencer so much he’s so amazing I hope y’all enjoy🫶.

The bright moon was high in the sky, quietly illuminating the room as you and your boyfriend lie asleep. You rest peacefully quiet breaths, the soft rise and fall of your chest with each breath fueled by your beating heart. Though, you lie asleep as if you were a small boat on a still lake, the man beside you couldn’t stop twisting and turning.

Escaping the dream Spencer awoke with a jolt sitting up his eyes shooting open. Feeling this sudden motion pulled you from your own calmer dream. You slowly turn over your mind still drowsy from the abrupt awakening. You see the dark curls leaning over his face, his head in his hands. You reach up placing your warm hand to his bare back causing him to jump.

“Honey, are you okay” you mumble still trying to keep from falling back asleep. He turned to look at you as you slowly sat up, “oh did I wake you up I’m s-“ he started quietly. You quickly shook your head no saying “no no it’s okay what happen are you alright” your voice still low as you quickly checked over his body to make sure he wasn’t injured.

Your eyes looked back to his as he said “no just I had a bad dream is all.” Your mouth made somewhat of an “oh” shape as you nodded to his words. You had none of his night terrors for a long time and though it had happened less frequently there were some nights he couldn’t escape them. You pulled him into a tight hug as you always had saying “well I’m sorry, I just wish there was something I could do to stop them” your tone apologetic, your heart shattering every time you saw the small tears that would well up in his fearful eyes from the thought of all the scary things that would haunt him in the deep hours of the night.

“This” Spencer whispered into your hair as your fingers twirled his own messy curls. His words brought a smile to your face as you felt eyes begin to become harder and harder to keep open, the warm embrace acting as a blanket.

You pull away and reach your hands up to his face, the light stubble poking your fingers as you use your thumbs to wipe away the tears. Placing a small kiss to his nose as you whisper “i love you” hoping your soft affectionate words will bring him the comfort he needs.

He reciprocates the words with a quiet “I love you more” and you couldn’t keep from playfully rolling your eyes “that’s not possible” you speak softly your words bringing a smile to his face as Spencer wraps his arms around your waist pulling you closer, capturing his lips over yours. Pulling away as you lie down again his arms still wrapped around you, his head now lying in the crook of your neck as you bring your hands back into his hair running your fingers through it. Eventually, you both fall back asleep to the sound of your matching steady heartbeats and the comforting warmth of each other. And for the first time in a long time Spencer had slept through the whole night feeling amazing and well rested in the morning. Even with the bright rising sun that beamed through the light curtains shining into his eyes Spencer couldn’t help but smile as he saw you lying asleep, knowing that he’d found the one.

okay what do we think guys. Lmk if you have any thoughts, or criticisms and yeah again I hoped you enjoyed reading as much as I enjoyed right have a great day or night and I love you.

[herweirdass]

waves of change | ph

smut warning!

Pope Heyward stood at the edge of the dock, staring out at the horizon. Life had been complicated lately. The treasure hunt, his friends, everything seemed to pull him in different directions. Today, though, he was taking a break. As much as he loved his friends, being around them all the time made it hard to think clearly. That’s when he noticed her—a girl standing by the beach house, leaning against a railing, her eyes locked onto his.

She was unmistakably a Kook. Her effortless style, from her perfectly tousled hair to the designer clothes, gave her away. Yet, something about her caught his attention. She didn’t look like the judgmental, elite types Pope had grown to dislike. She had an air of confidence and mystery, and he couldn't shake the feeling she was watching him, too.

Eventually, their paths crossed when she approached him at the docks.

“Hey, you’re Pope, right?” Her voice was smooth, almost teasing.

Pope raised an eyebrow. “Yeah. And you are?”

“Y/N,” she replied, with a half-smile. “I’ve seen you around with the Pogues.”

Pope nodded, unsure of where this was going. Kooks didn’t usually mix with Pogues unless they had an ulterior motive.

“I’m not like the others,” she said, as if reading his mind. “Trust me.”

Curiosity got the better of him. “Okay, so what’s your deal?”

She shrugged, her eyes sparkling with something he couldn’t quite place. “Let’s just say... I’ve been through my share of experiences.”

Pope wasn’t naïve, but he couldn’t help the nervous flutter in his stomach. He had never been the most confident when it came to relationships or even flirting. But there was something about Y/N that drew him in.

Over the next few days, they started hanging out more. What began as chance encounters turned into secretive walks on the beach, late-night talks under the stars, and deep conversations where Y/N revealed more about herself. She was different from the typical Kook girls he had met. She didn’t care about appearances or money. She was unapologetically herself—bold, confident, and open about her desires.

One evening, as they sat on the sand watching the waves, Y/N turned to him. “You’re holding back.”

Pope’s heart skipped a beat. “What do you mean?”

She leaned in closer, her gaze piercing. “You’re smart, Pope. You’re ambitious, and you’ve got this intensity about you. But you’re holding something back... with me.”

He swallowed hard, unsure of how to respond. “I’m just... not as experienced as you, I guess.”

Y/N smiled softly, surprising him with her gentleness. “It’s not about experience. It’s about connection. You and I... we’re different, but we understand each other.”

Pope felt the tension between them grow. The weight of everything he’d been through—the danger, the treasure, his friends—all seemed to fade away in that moment. It was just him and her. She moved closer, her lips brushing against his. His breath caught in his throat, but he didn’t pull away. Instead, he kissed her back, letting go of his insecurities and doubts.

The air between them was charged, the unspoken tension building with every glance and lingering touch. Y/N smirked, looking at him with those teasing eyes of hers.

“You don’t have to be afraid with me. I promise,” she said, voice low, her fingers lightly tracing his arm.

Pope swallowed, heart racing. The desire to keep things simple was at war with the new sensations she awakened in him. He felt a surge of boldness, something he’d never been able to express fully until now, around her.

“How about we take this back to my place?” Pope said, surprising even himself with the words.

Y/N raised an eyebrow, her smirk deepening. “Pope Heyward, are you trying to be smooth?”

He chuckled, shaking his head slightly, but there was confidence in his voice now. “Maybe. Is it working?”

She bit her lip, eyes darkening with intrigue. “Definitely.”

Without another word, she stood up, holding out her hand. Pope took it, the warmth between their palms sparking something undeniable.

As they arrived at Pope's place, the atmosphere shifted. The walls, adorned with remnants of his childhood, felt both familiar and foreign. Y/N took a moment to soak it all in before turning her full attention to Pope. He stood a bit awkwardly, his hands shoved in his pockets, looking like a deer caught in headlights.

“Relax,” she encouraged, stepping closer. “We can just talk for now, see where things go.”

They settled onto the couch, the cushions sinking comfortably beneath them. With each laugh and shared moment, the tension began to fade.

“Okay, so, what do you want to know?” she finally asked, tilting her head slightly, a playful glint in her eyes.

Pope swallowed hard, his mind racing. “Well… I guess, um, how do I…?” He hesitated, feeling a mix of vulnerability and eagerness.

“Just be honest with me,” Y/N replied softly. “What are you curious about?”

He took a breath, finally voicing it. “I want to know how to… well, you know. I’ve only ever did it once.”

Y/N smiled knowingly, “You mean, how to be intimate?” She leaned forward, creating a safe space for him. “It’s about connection, not just the act itself. Let’s go at your pace, okay?”

A wave of relief washed over Pope. “Okay.”

With that, Y/N took his hand, guiding him to sit closer. “It’s all about feeling comfortable. Start by exploring—what do you like? What makes you feel good?”

Pope nodded slowly, his heart racing. Y/N gently placed her hand on his chest, encouraging him to breathe deeply. “Just focus on the moment. Let go of any expectations,” she whispered, her voice steady and soothing.

As they moved closer, Y/N began to guide his hands, teaching him the power of touch. She showed him how to caress her arm, how to find the right pressure, the right rhythm. With each tentative move, Pope felt the warmth of her skin under his fingertips, the thrill of discovery igniting his senses.

“See? You’re doing great,” she said softly, her encouragement wrapping around him like a blanket.

Pope found himself lost in the moment, gradually shedding his nerves. He had previously learned to read her reactions, the way she leaned into his touch, the soft sighs that escaped her lips. With every passing moment, he grew more confident, more attuned to Y/N’s desires as she guided him with gentle prompts.

“Now, let’s try something else. We’re going to find out what you like,” she suggested, her voice low and inviting.

She started with light kisses on his neck and began trailing them up his jawline, then finally his lips. The kiss was soft and gentle sending shivers down Pope’s body. He brushed his thumb across her cheek deepening the kiss between them both. Y/N removed his shirt as he pulled her into his lap with a tight possessive grip.

He started by kissing her neck and then moved down to her chest, his hands roaming everywhere. The warmth spread downward and rested between her thighs, intensifying and igniting through her minimal clothing.

Overcome by desire, she instinctively arched towards him, craving more. He then stripped away their remaining clothes and told her to lie flat on the bed. A smirk crept onto Pope's face as his gaze swept over her body, his eyes darkening with lust.

“Tell me you’re all mine,” he whispered, his breath warm against her ear. She looked up at him, her eyes shimmering with desire, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still. In that fragile space between words and feelings, she felt the weight of his gaze, a mixture of longing that enveloped them both.

“I’m all yours baby,” she finally breathed, her voice barely above a whisper as she lay there, naked and extremely wet for him.

He captured her lips once more, his hand gliding down her body savoring every moment. He placed his palm exactly where she desired him. Y/N bucked, moving against him as soft moans escaped her lips. A soft smile played on his lips as he watched her squirm under his touch.

Pope dominated the space above her, aligning his thick length with her eager entrance. Unable to restrain himself any longer, he thrust inside, prompting both of them to gasp at the intensity of the moment. After pausing briefly to adjust, he began to move his hips, allowing y/n to experience all of him. He pulsed within her as she tightened around him. They soon settled into a deep, pleasurable rhythm together. The room echoed with the sound of their bodies connecting as they murmured sweet nothings to one another.

“You’re doing great baby,” she encouraged. “Just like that.”

Pope drove into her more harder and rapidly, they both felt a growing, intense pleasure that was impossible to ignore.

“Pope,” she gasped his name, twisting, riding it out until her climax hits and every part of her explodes with pleasure as she shivers in his arms.

“Y/n, I—” Pope barely completed his thought before she tightened around him, aiming to both tease and assist him. He soon followed, gasping for breath as they both experienced their own climaxes.

Hours slipped by, the world outside fading into a distant hum. By the time they finally paused, both breathless and exhilarated, Pope felt like he’d stepped into a new world. Y/N had opened a door for him, one he hadn’t known existed.

“See? You had it in you all along,” she smiled, brushing a strand of hair from his forehead. “You just needed a little guidance.”

Pope grinned, a mix of pride and relief flooding through him. “Thanks for being patient with me,” he said, feeling a sense of fulfillment he hadn’t anticipated.

“Always,” Y/N replied, her eyes sparkling.

From that night on, things between Pope and Y/N changed. They found a balance between the wild, physical attraction and the deeper connection they had built. Y/N showed him how to embrace his desires, but she also taught him that it was okay to take things slow and steady. They didn’t need to rush. They had time.

Despite their differences—their backgrounds, their experiences—they found common ground in each other. Pope’s heart, always loyal to his friends and family, made room for something new. Y/N, with all her complexities, was the challenge he never knew he needed.

And as the summer nights rolled on, they both realized that sometimes, the best connections come from the most unexpected places.

[livesworthlivingau]

Lives Worth Living Chapter 15

ISAT/Two Hat spoilers below. CW: Uhhh.... emotional pain, idk exactly how to tag this one but it's gonna hurt y'all, I may or may not have cried at work just THINKING about this chapter... So uhh, yeah, you've been warned.

(You awaken to an odd sensation. It feels distantly familiar, like a wave of healing and confirmation washing over your very essence… a save point?… Wh… Why are you feeling this now? This hasn't happened any other time so far… was it Loop?! You barely even finish the thought before your hand is placed beside your head in the usual 'call loop' sign… and the connection never comes.)

"Loop…" (You shudder out softly as your hand falls back to your side. You sit there, frozen, mind racing with all the horrible possibilities of what this all could mean. Were they gone?… Were you too late?… Could you even loop back before now if you wanted to? Why is the connection gone?! What happened to them?! They can loop too right?! You have to go back! You have to try!! Yo-)

"Sif? S-Sif are you okay?" (Isa's voice snaps you out of it, perking up a little and looking over at him. Tears have been pouring down your face. Isa sits up quickly, wrapping his arms around you almost instinctively, holding you close to his chest with worry.)

"I-I… I can't feel them anymore… Loop's gone!" (You choke out through the lump in your throat. You can't stop yourself from sobbing anymore. You retreat into the comfort of their touch, and yet you can't help but feel so alone in this moment.)

"I-It's okay Sif, I'm here… We'll figure this out, I'm sure they're fine!" (He tries to comfort you, but you both know his words are empty promises.)

----------------------------------------------------

"Are you certain they're gone? Maybe something just severed the connection, or there's an interference." (Odile theorizes as her and Mira had entered the room to console you. You sit in bed, holding your legs to your chest under you cloak, hiding your face in it as your expression looks hopeless.)

"I could always feel them… the slightest little blip, even when they never showed back up again… a-and now they're just…" (You start to explain, tears forming in your eye once more.)

"B-But we don't know what they've been doing! It doesn't mean they're gone!" (Mirabelle chimes in, trying to be as hopeful as possible.)

"What else could it mean, Mira?! Why else wouldn't I be able to feel them anymore?! I-I… I have to loop back, I-I have to try and sto-"

"Frin?…" (Your heart stops as you look to the door, noticing Bonnie standing just outside of it.)

"B-Bonbon! I-I-… I didn't… I-I'm not…" (You stammer out, your body shaking. Bonnie looks devastated, clenching their fists with tears welling up in their eyes. They then sprint back down the hall as they start sobbing. Odile sighing and following after.)

"I'll try to talk to them." (She nods to Isa and Mira, as if handing off the problem for them to deal with you…)

"Sif, please, you gotta calm down and then we can try to figure this out."

"What is there to figure out?! They're gone!! A-And if they're gone then what's even the point of going through all this again?! I-I-… I can't! I can't do this!!" (Your voice screams out, gripping your hair so tight it nearly tears out of your head. Tears continue to pour from your single eye.)

"Siffrin! P-Please, you'll hurt yourself!" (Mirabelle cries out as she looks ready to craft some healing for you.)

"We don't know they're gone Sif, we could-" (Isabeau starts to console you before you snap back.)

"Of course they're gone!! Why wouldn't they be?! Everything else that matters to me vanishes! Loop! My home! My memories! MY WHOLE BLINDING LIFE!! IT'S ALL GONE!!"

"…Sif… You've still got us…" (He pleads, you can hear the devestation in his voice.)

"Do I?! Because I just spent the last 30 years with all of you and only I can remember any of it!! That makes me feel pretty blinding lonely right now!!" (You can't even bear to look at either of them, but the silence stings painfully in your ears.)

"... C'mon, Mira, I think Sif just needs to simmer down." (Isa does his best to hide the break in his voice, but he's clearly fighting back the tears. The both of them leave the room and shut the door behind them. You grab the pillow beside you and bury your face into it. You scream as loud as you can, you scream until your voice gives out and your throat is raw, then you try to scream some more. The tears eventually stop flowing from your eye. You think you've just ran out of them.)

(You pull your face up from the tear and saliva soaked pillow, just throwing it to the side. The light from the window flickers as the branches blocking the sun drift about in the wind. You hop up off the bed and open the window wide, climbing out and sprinting to the largest tree you can find.)

-----------------------------------------------------

(The favor tree towers over you. You need a leaf, your favorite one… None of them mean anything to you in the moment. You grab the most Fresh looking leaf you can find. You hold it close and whisper into it thrice.)

"I wish to find Loop…"

(You delicately fold the leaf and drop it at your feet. You wait… You wait some more… You're getting impatient. You pick up another leaf, you whisper into it 6 times.)

"I wish to find Loop."

(You fold and drop the leaf again. You wait. You clench your fists and jaw, letting out an annoyed growl. You pick up another leaf, and scream into it until your voice gives out again.)

"I WISH TO FIND LOOP! SHOW ME WHERE THEY ARE YOU STUPID BLINDING UNIVERSE!!! I HAVE TO FIND THEM!! I WISH TO FIND LOOP!!!!"

(You violently crumple the leaf up and throw it to the ground, panting and shaking, staring angrily at the set of useless leaves you had used. As you prepare to grab yet another leaf, a strong gust of wind flows through, swooping up the 3 leaves you had used and fluttering them along through the tree line... the faintest hint of sugar fills your nostrils. You begin walking the way they pointed.)

[devilevlls]

Friends with benefitsೀ⋆｡

Gender-Neutral MC༘ ⋆｡˚

Levi and MC had a little fun while watching anime, exchanged looks and perverse caresses lead them to improve their friendship on a different level. FWB.

Word count: 820 words.

Levi won the poll of "which brother should be the main focus on the new content?" I hope you guys enjoy it 💜

📌 TW: Sexual acts, mutual masturbation. MC’s genitals aren’t described. 

On a cold and cozy day, MC decided to pay a visit to Leviathan's room, the avatar of envy. With the absence of classes at RAD, the two planned to spend the afternoon enjoying the new anime that had just been released. However, little did they know that the animation had spicy surprises in store beyond what its innocent synopsis suggested.

—*

The two were lying on a pile of pillows and blankets on the floor, MC rested their head on Leviathan's shoulder, while he put another pile of popcorn in his mouth, his orange eyes glued to the TV screen.

The anime seemed interesting at first glance, but occasionally, it made suggestive references between the characters, which drew a few surprised gasps from the demon. With his cheeks red, Leviathan avoided looking at the human beside him, trying to hide the embarrassment that was beginning to settle between them.

The characters little by little begin to get along and, in a hot scene, they kiss each other heatedly. Surprisingly, the scene is not cut, escalating further to the point of making the demon shifts uncomfortably.

This was getting obscene.

"Y-You know, we can change this if it's too much..." His tail thrashed from side to side, betraying his agitation, as Leviathan struggled to conceal his unease amidst the intensity of the scene

“No, it’s okay…” MC regarded him with an unsettling gaze, their eyes bearing an unfamiliar intensity, aflame with a malicious fervor.

As Leviathan gradually regained his composure, he found himself unconsciously placing his hand on MC's thigh, seeking solace in the midst of the awkwardness. Sensing the touch, MC reciprocated, tentatively tracing a path toward the avatar of envy's groin.

The demon sighed, but didn't disapprove, keeping his eyes on the screen in an attempt to hide the excitement that was growing between them. Things were heating up and being alone with his Henry made his heart flutter. 

Maybe the idea of ​​doing something more wouldn’t be so bad…

Leviathan's thoughts were in disarray, his body drenched in sweat as MC ventured closer to his most intimate parts. Their gentle touch sent shivers down his spine, causing his awakened member to pulse with instinctual desire.

“Looks like someone is excited.” MC teased him, feeling the throbbing inside his pants, realizing how much it was causing reactions in his body. “Why don’t you take it off?” They suggest.

“W-What!?” He asked, turning all red, his tail hitting a glass that was nearby, spilling the contents onto the carpet. "Damn it!"

“Forget about it, we’ll clean it up later…”

“Okay… But try not being so loud… I-I don’t want my brothers to find out what we’re doing.”

—*

With his pants now lowered, Leviathan bit his lip, suppressing the needy moans that threatened to escape as MC's hand expertly moved up and down his throbbing member. The sensation was exquisite, sending waves of heat through his body. Driven by desire, he reciprocated by sliding his own hand into the human's intimacy, eagerly stimulating with fervor, determined to match the pleasure being offered.

“That’s it… Good boy…” They said excited, slowly sliding their finger along the demon’s tip, taking some of his pre-cum to lubricate the rest of his length.

“A-ah… MC…” He moaned softly, increasing the speed at which he masturbated his partner, the trembling fingers trying their best to maintain the consistency of his clumsy movements.

The two remain lying under the blankets, rubbing their sexes together and panting softly, their breathing becoming heavy as the excitement reaches its peak.

Leviathan couldn't help but moan again, squirming as the boiling sensation in his abdomen intensified, growing unbearable. He knew he was reaching his limit, unable to withstand it any longer.

“MC… Wait… I’ll… A-ahh~”

Unable to restrain himself any longer, Leviathan surrendered to the overwhelming pleasure, releasing all of his pent-up desire. MC's hand was soon coated in a thick layer of semen as he reached the peak of his ecstasy. Rolling his eyes back in satisfaction, his entire body trembled with the intensity of his orgasmic release.

“Wow, Levi, you made a mess!” They say slowing down the movements until finally stopping.

“I’m sorry… I’m sorry… I couldn’t hold it in.” He says embarrassed, knowing he had come early and made his favorite human dirty.

“Alright, stay there, I’ll clean it up for you.”

As they rose to their feet, Leviathan's hand instinctively reached out to grasp MC's, his eyes wide with a certain fear that lingered in the air.

“Don’t tell anyone about this.”

“Don’t worry, it’ll be our little secret. But I hope you let me cum next time.” The human teased, winking at him.

Leviathan's heart raced at the teasing remark, a mixture of excitement and uncertainty swirling within him. "In the next...?" he murmured to himself, pondering what they meant by that as he watched MC walk away to retrieve a clean cloth.

Masterlistɞ

[fangsandfeels]

Every interaction with Astarion is a gold mine

So, finally got the encounter with Astarion's siblings, the "cuddly Astarion" bit, and the conversation afterward. And while the "other people don't have a heart like you" already has me by the jugular, this line of dialogue is just amazing:

There is a lot to unpack. On the surface, Astarion is being mean here. He doesn't mince words, he goes all in, hitting every sore spot. He says everything that ever frustrated him about us and our choices.

"A mind flayer thrall..." - a jab at the tadpole situation, the dependence on the Emperor, and maybe, at the fact that we rejected his idea to control the tadpoles i.e., made ourselves vulnerable to domination by other beings.

"...who spends their life sorting out other people's problems" - I'm sure this option is only available if we have been making kind decisions. The "spends their life" bit is particularly interesting as he hints that we're not living for ourselves. We have that incredible mix of mortality and freedom on our hands, and we give it away by getting involved in problems that aren't ours. He hates it. Or at least he used to.

NOTE: Also, a small addendum regarding the general message of his remark. It's "Look how this world has been treating you. You talk about the world being a wonderful place, but you have a tadpole planted in your skull, and even in this state, people just keep asking you for help, and you don't refuse. Nobody is helping you, though. Is this world really kind?". Despite his choice of words, he feels sorry for us.

But the most incredible part is that we actually get approval despite what he says. He can't bring himself to get mad at what we said because he knows we actually mean it. He knows us too well by now. And he wants to believe us. He wants it to be true. But he just can't afford that belief. So he forces it down and says words that are hurtful, a rude awakening for us and for him. But he even says all that without the usual bite in his voice. He is annoyed, he trying to make us understand the ridiculousness of our situation. However, he also would like us to be right. He appreciates that we believe in a world that has a place for him. And yet, he had hope dangled over his head only to be snatched away too many times. He can't let it happen again.

"I'm doing it for you, too, you know. To make sure we're both safe. Forever. For good"

[dark-and-kawaii]

Maybe this is self-indulgent, but what about beating Haarlep in the game of seduction? Like, making the incubus long for Tav instead of the other way around. I want to see Haarlep being utterly desperate for someone, see him yearning so fiercely it makes him burn, see him so swept up by the passion of another that he is being lavished with that thoughts of him trying to use/command the situation in some way don't even occur to him until after he has come down from the high of pleasure. What do you think would be going through his mind?

Starved

Haarlep x Tav/Reader

⋆˙⟡♡ Notes: I really enjoyed receiving this request, I’m sorry it took a hot minute to post, but I did enjoy it greatly. Scenarios like this for Haarlep make my knees crumble. I wrote a small story and answered your question after it!! Please let me know what you thought <3 And please enjoy xoxo

⋆˙⟡♡ Submissive Haarlep | Starved Haarlep | Comfort | Slight NSFW

Haarlep's eyes, usually filled with a predatory gleam, now held a hint of vulnerability. Something about your aura has ignited a fire within them, a craving they cannot ignore.

As the Incubus circles you, your lashes flutter with lust. The desire to be mounted by them, to feel the creature's cock sliding into you, is undeniable. You had wanted them since you met, yet all you could do was tease them with a subtle kiss here and there.

Each time you visited before Raphael’s demise, Haarlep’s tail would twitch with delight, in hopes it would be the day they’d command your body, yet you’d always deny them. And with a gentle caress to their cheek, you’d whisper, "Soon, my Incubus. Soon." Before walking away, your clothes hugging tightly to your frame, leaving nothing to the imagination.

And each time you left from their sight, Haarlep would groan, the feeling of being starved too much to bare, and the need to sink into your heat becoming unbearable. No one has ever denied them, but you had, and that only made the Incubus crave you even more.

Haarlep recalls those nights where they would have no choice but to stroke their own length. A visual of you naked and begging for them to fill you was always enough to help them finish. But it wasn't the same.

This is the first time you've been able to truly be alone, to be able to indulge in all the fantasies that have been building. Haarlep's voice, usually smooth and commanding, trembles ever so slightly as they move closer towards you. Their words filled with a desperate longing. Haarlep yearns to taste the forbidden fruit that is your body, to cherish the intoxicating symphony of pleasure that awaits you both.

Every touch, every caress of yours, sends electric currents coursing through Haarlep's veins. Their body, usually so confident and self-assured, now quivers with need. The way your gaze lingers over their shape causes them to dissolve into a malleable state. It's an unfamiliar sensation... And in that moment, the fact that they are an incubus slips from their consciousness.

Haarlep has seen, been with thousands, but never once has anything, or anyone made their heart quickened it’s beat quite like you. Hells, Haarlep never even knew such a thing possible for their kind. The Incubus, who has known no other feeling than that of sexual desire, is experiencing something entirely new, and it scares them.

And when your lips meet their chest, their skin aches with every flick of your tongue, they can't stop the moan from escaping. Their hand tangling in your hair, as their other holds you in place, and for the first time, Haarlpes mind becomes clouded.

The once dominant incubus now becomes the submissive, lost in the rapture of their union. They are consumed by the sheer euphoria of the moment, their thoughts of control and manipulation vanishing into thin air.

You, empowered by your ability to awaken such submission in Haarlep, take the lead, guiding them through a dance of passion and fulfillment. With a single kiss, you claim the incubus as your own, Haarlep’s very own soul now bound to your will.

Your hands explore their body, tracing their abs, moving lower, and lower still. As your fingertips reach the base of their cock, Haarlep’s breath hitches. You feel their pulse quicken, and your core clenches.

Without hesitation, you wrap your fingers around the thick shaft, and with a tight grip, you guide it into your folds. The incubus shudders, their head leaning back, mouth agape, eyes closed, while you slowly sink onto their thick member.

As you take in more and more of their length, Haarlep is completely overwhelmed. They are utterly stripped of control, a willing slave to your whims and desires. Their hunger for you, their need to be thoroughly and relentlessly ravished, becomes all consuming. Every bounce on their cock, every kiss, sends waves of pleasure crashing over them, shattering any remnants of resistance they once possessed.

As the climax approaches, Haarlep's body tenses, their groans and moans reaching a crescendo of ecstasy. In the throes of pleasure, they reach the pinnacle of their desire, trembling and quaking beneath your loving touch. It is in this moment of ultimate surrender that the realization of their vulnerability dawns upon them, leaving the incubus breathless, impressed, and completely sated.

As your lips part, you stare into the eyes of a creature you never once thought you’d fall for, their will now completely submissive, their soul forever bound to yours.

"I am yours, and you are mine.” Is all you say, before resting your forehead against theirs.

‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

Haarlep is used to being the one who stirs sexual relations, not the one overwhelmed by it. As Tav begins to turn the tides, Haarlep might initially be confused. They are not accustomed to the roles being reversed, and it would take them time to understand what's happening.

Eventually realization would dawn on Haarlep that Tav is not just resisting but actively seducing them, Haarlep would likely feel surprised, proud/impressed of Tav even.

I think because Haarlep is so accustomed to being in command, they would find the loss of control a bit frightening but eventually once they come down from the high they’d find it thrilling since it was you/tav. If it was anyone or anything else the fear might linger a bit longer…

There might be a grudging respect or even admiration for Tav's prowess. Haarlep would recognize the skill involved in turning the tables on an incubus, and part of them might appreciate the challenge Tav presents. Leaving them wanting to be at your side.

[sehodreams]

Nerd!Anton getting made fun of for being a virgin so you feel bad and think that the least you can do is give him a handjob. You can tell he had the time of his life while whimpering and his eyes rolling to the back of his head while curling his toes.

Yes, I love Nerd!Anton

WC: 1K

TW and Tags: a touch of bullying, sexual content, hand job, no verbal consent so maybe a bit dubcon for some of you (but he said he wanted a girl to touch him so...)

You're as pathetic as him, you affirmed inside your head, it was hard to look at that face and not feel bad for him, his eyes wet after you made him remember why the others laughed at him the other day, making fun of him for being a virgin when a girl openly told everyone his little secret, and you knew he didn't want to talk about it, trying to circle back to the subject of your project numerous times, but there was something about his embarrassed expression when you asked him more about it that made you too curious to stop, wanting to know what had that girl done for him to let himself be fooled by her at that party, and why did he go there in first place when he used to say they were a waste of time.

With every question his face became more and more red, and when he admitted that he just wanted to be touched by a girl for once, lip quivering, head down and voice stuttering of humiliation, sending a pinch to your heart and your core, your soft spot felt bad for him, and before you noticed, you had already offered yourself.

"I'll do it" you said, almost ordered, surprising both of you.

He didn't answer, and you didn't offer yourself again, you just got closer, crawling to him in silence, and still unsure, you sat on your knees between his legs, which he opened so you could be closer to him.

You didn't understand what was going inside you that made you want to touch him, but you were already there, grasping his crotch with your index finger, looking at his eyes to see if he would stop you in any second. However, he would never do it, he just couldn't believe anyone would offer to touch him, and the only reason why he couldn't answer was because no words would properly form in his head.

His breath stopped when he saw you pull down his fly, fingertips playing with his member over the fabric of his boxers, making him gulp with the soft caressing. He wasn't feeling your touch directly against his skin and his heart was already beating so hard he was afraid you would hear it and laugh at him for being so innocent.

Still, inhaling the sweet smell of your perfume around him, he couldn't help but feel something tingle inside him, especially after his eyes looked at your lips, plump and shiny thanks to the lip gloss he saw you reapplying minutes before, because in his imagination they looked like that covered with his cum.

With his dick already hard, a pitched sound came out of his throat when you pulled down his underwear, the cold air of the room touching his member that jumped in front of you, showing a reddish color in the tip and a couple of transparent drops of precum.

You saw him looking at your lips and you smiled, satisfied with his reaction and his size, it was a lot bigger than what you expected, not that you had thought about it before, until that day you saw him like your classmate and nothing more, but there, alone, in his room, and after having teased him because of what happened days prior, something awakened inside you.

Two of your fingers making a v caressed his cock up and down, smearing the drops to his whole length and making a couple more of them appear, pushing you to tease him even more.

Clearly agitated and having a hard time breathing with you so close, touching him like no one had done before, his chest, covered with his black turtleneck, moved in front of your eyes.

It was a bit difficult at first, with his size and your hand not wet enough, you couldn't move it like you wanted, and he was feeling good, but you knew he could feel better, so you bended in front of him, and with your mouth close to his length, while looking at him in the eyes, you spat over it.

He couldn't believe his eyes, it was the first time a girl was so close to his dick, and it perfectly fitted the picture of you sucking his cock he had imagined moments ago, making his mind dizzy.

You bit your lips, wrapping his member with your hand and putting pressure in your grip, you jerked him off for a good amount of time, enjoying the image of him shattering with just your hand touching him.

Not much after you started, his hips bucked into your hand, searching for more contact, and you, feeling your panties get wet, let him use your hand to pleasure himself.

When he started to whimper you used your thumb to stimulate the tip of his cock, like you had seen other enjoy before, making his head fall and his hands become fists behind him, finding the strength to maintain his position and not cum too fast.

Sadly, soon his voice got slightly louder, whimpers leaving his mouth and eyes closed with force, with his hips sloppily thrusting your hand and arms shaking, you knew he was close, "look at me", you said when you felt his cock throb, and he did it without question, looking at you with glossy eyes, the eye contact made both of you feel hotter.

A singular long moan escaped his lips, making you grin in response, "gonna cum?", you asked, moving your hand slowly but with more pressure.

He nodded, and then, when the wet sounds of his cock fucking your hand were filling the room and his tip had started to leak more precum, you pressed the palm of your free hand against his lower abdomen, making him cum in that instant, eyes rolling to the back of his head and dick twitching thick white drops all over your fist, a couple of them reaching your clothed thighs.

He ruined your new pair of blue jeans, yet you couldn't care less about them, too focused on the pretty cock you just made cum for the first time in your life.

Yeah, it was your first time touching a dick too, but he didn't need to know that he wasn't the only virgin around.

[gyummigon]

☆ moonlight | beomgyu

beomgyu x fem!reader

୨୧ word count: 2k ୨୧ genre: very very fluff, friends to ? ୨୧ n/a: writing this brought me back to life. maybe i rambled too much, but just letting the words flow made me feel warm and i hope it shows. on the other hand, english isn’t my first language, so i ask for your understanding for possible grammatical errors and such.

Thank you for the music by ABBA was playing on the radio in your father's old, beat-up truck. You were lying in the back of the car with Beomgyu beside you, enjoying the view of the night sky and the cold winter breeze that painted colorful puffs on his cheeks. A tattered blanket, that you had grabbed before leaving home in a hurry, lay under their bodies, which were close enough to give you goosebumps.

The engine of the car made your body vibrate. You sank into your thoughts for a few minutes, admiring Beomgyu's beauty as he stood with his gaze lost in the firmament. The moon cast a soft silvery light on his eyes, evoking a feeling of tenderness and serenity in them.

You were aware that the serenity that radiated from him on this particular night could only be found in similar circumstances, at specific times, in specific places, and with the necessary level of intimacy. Then his mouth would pause slightly, no longer showing his teeth in those flashy smiles that were typical of him, his lips would relax to the rhythm of his mind and a calm line would take its place, leaving his playful and joyful side until the moment he felt ready to awaken it again.

Beomgyu's boisterous personality used to be a constant presence and you were more than accustomed to it, but when it disappeared, you couldn't help but wonder what lay beneath the surface. Who was he when he was alone, with no one to smile at or joke with? Who was he when he was lost in his thoughts, completely vulnerable to his thoughts and his surroundings?

As you stared at him, you felt as if you were sinking into a pool of endless calm and compassion, unable to be anyone without the answers to these questions. This made you feel exposed, as if you had little of yourself and the breeze kissed the innermost part of your mind, taking away everything coherent and leaving only that which involved the boy next to you; your longing to share with him the purest, the most intimate, wanting to belong to each other and to find through touch the most delicate parts of his soul.

You shook your head slightly, trying to dispel the thoughts that were beginning to overwhelm you. It didn't feel right to have this kind of longing for him that went beyond friendship, but your feelings had grown to a point where you couldn't do anything to stop them.

Beomgyu broke the silence with a soft, warm laugh, his voice echoing in your ears and making you shiver. "What are you thinking about?" he asked and his hand brushed over yours in a gentle gesture. Your heart pounded at his touch as you fought to keep your composure.

"I was thinking... about how profoundly calm you become at times," you replied, trying to sound casual. Beomgyu nodded, but his gaze remained fixed on you, as if he could see through your words. "You haven't said much," you muttered and looked up, unable to bear the closeness of his face.

A silence stretched between the two of you for a few seconds, causing you to look at him with furrowed brows. Beomgyu's lips curved into a relaxed smile when you met his eyes again. Now, from the side, you could see the wind ruffling his beautiful face, making the strands of his messy hair dance and expose more of his smooth skin, tempting you to reach out and stroke it.

He looks spectacular, you thought.

"Do you mind if I snuggle with you?" Beomgyu suddenly said, moving closer to you and wrapping his arms around you.

You felt overwhelmed by his presence, by his warmth burning in and out of you; but you said nothing, just gave him a forced smile. Beomgyu didn't seem to notice your discomfort, or maybe he did, but decided not to make a big deal out of it. Instead, he made himself comfortable and invited you to do the same.

"Look at the stars," he said, pointing to the sky. "They are so beautiful."

"They are," you replied, leaning back against his chest and feeling his heart beat against your cheek. You both lay in silence, enjoying each other's warmth and the soft sound of the background music mixed with the sound of the car's engine. From time to time, Beomgyu would move slightly, shifting his position or adjusting the blanket to better cover you. Every time he did that, your heart skipped a beat.

"I'm pretty as well, right? " you heard him ask with a smile.

For some unknown reason, his question made you blush and you looked away, trying to focus on the sky. Too drunk on your own emotions, too unaware of what you were showing to keep this situation casual.

"So annoying," you said lowly, referring to your own reaction and not wanting Beomgyu to hear it, which was illogical considering the short distance between your bodies.

"There, there, don't be mad. Smile," he said as he brought one of his fingers to your cheek and stretched it upwards. "Smile."

The touch of his hand on your skin was warm and soft. You froze for a moment, feeling fragile and disoriented under his touch. It had always been like this, a constant game in which you were the cold one and Beomgyu was the warm one. It was not difficult for him to destroy you bit by bit, he was clueless and naive and had no idea what he was doing with such simple actions. However, sometimes you had the feeling that he knew more than he was showing and did not hesitate to take advantage of it.

You fought not to flinch and smiled a forced smile, not avoiding the bitterness in the gesture. Beomgyu didn't ignore it, he jerked his hand away and gave it a shake.

"Agh, how horrible. Better not do it again," he joked.

"You know, you're cute, but too unbearable," you murmured the last sentence between your teeth, almost whispering. Although he understood you, Beomgyu moved his face closer to yours, as if he wanted to hear you better, and batted his eyelashes.

"Is that a compliment?" He raised his eyebrows as the smile on his face became more pronounced. Before you could answer, he added, "Oww, you're pretty too."

You almost laughed at his nerve to speak in a sly voice when his ears were flushed. You didn't want to get your hopes up. You knew that Beomgyu was a kind and caring boy for everyone, not just for you. Maybe it was just that you were reading too much into his gestures and his words. Maybe you were the one who was in love.

You remained silent for a few seconds, and when you finally found the courage, you stepped back a little and looked at him. "So, how did your date with that girl turn out?"

Beomgyu looked at you for a few seconds, a little surprised by the sudden topic. You didn't want to ruin the moment, and you certainly didn't want to involve your feelings in the confidentiality that his friendship granted you, but you couldn't ignore the question that hovered in your head any longer.

"Um... a bit boring," he answered thoughtfully, "I don't think we're very compatible or whatever".

"I see," you said, feeling a small relief at his words. "Well, I'm sure you'll find someone you can connect with or whatever."

Beomgyu smiled but said nothing more. Silence spread between the two of you again, but this time it felt different, less natural. You felt exposed to his gaze, but you couldn't look away. It was as if he was reading your thoughts, as if he knew everything in your mind: his name throbbing in every nook and cranny.

To say that you were fascinated by his existence would be an understatement. You found in Beomgyu what you sometimes found in art, in the sublime, in the possibility of a new world; what you could only find in one of your alternate mental realities, which, not free of anguish, were exquisite in their own way.

For you saw it, and you were then a foolish romantic, admiring with your intoxicated eyes the features of your beloved, revealing the magical and the beautiful as a piece of heaven made of flesh. And there was no better time than the night, when the moonlight revealed the true beauty of his soul and alluded to the most intimate secrets that lay hidden.

In your trance, then embarrassing but no less inspiring and dreamy, you heard Beomgyu call your name and it was as if every deep part of you was called from the outside and he took possession of it. You looked at him and lost yourself for a second in the small smile on his face.

"When I look at you... do I look like a fool too?"

"No, you always look like a fool," you replied, hiding your embarrassment behind a wry smile and feeling your heart pounding in your chest.

Beomgyu frowned at your words but didn't seem to be bothered. Instead, he moved a little closer, took your hand in his and looked into your eyes. "I feel the same way," he mused in his soft, warm voice.

You didn't have time to think about the meaning of those words because the mood was interrupted when the song on the radio changed to Champagne Supernova by Oasis. Beomgyu's deep, leisurely voice following the lyrics of the song reached your ears and crept up to a place in your chest. You were instantly hit by a feeling of immense bliss, so intense and superior to all others that you thought you would never experience such a sensation again. After a life of remorse and regret, you finally found a sense of belonging in that harmonious voice. And for that brief moment, for those minutes of glory that the song lasted, you belonged to the world, to Beomgyu, to heaven, and to everything that witnessed that great act of love and longing.

After a while, the van stopped and your father leaned out of the window to let you know that you had reached your destination. With a sigh, Beomgyu got up and helped you out of the car. As you walked together towards the lake, you couldn't help but look at him sideways and fill your head with the cheesiest thoughts you probably ever had for a guy.

"Maybe you should watch the road instead of me?" he asked in a mocking tone when he saw you almost tripping over your own feet.

"Shut up," you snorted a little embarrassed as you rolled your eyes. "Just... you have something suspicious on your face."

When he heard you, Beomgyu's eyes went wide. "What? Take it off."

"Let's see..." Beomgyu paused and looked at you with uneasy eyes as you approached him. You looked at his face for a moment before hitting his forehead with your index finger and walking away. "I can't, it's stupid..." you said with a tone of false resignation that made him laugh and kick you gently.

Before you could go any further, he grabbed your arm and gave you a teasing smile. "Want to see who gets to the lake first?" he proposed, pointing to the path that stretched out before you. "Last one there has to dip their feet in the cold water."

"You're still like children..." you heard your father say a few meters away, causing the two of you to separate for a moment. You looked at Beomgyu, whose cheeks were slightly flushed, and you did not hesitate to make fun of him.

"Sir, your daughter is bothering me," he said before starting to run.

"Hey, that's cheating!"

© gyummigon | all rights reserved. copying or adaptation prohibited

[ddarker-dreams]

Hierarchy of Needs.

Daryl Dixon x F Reader.

Notes: originally, i was gonna keep this one between me and my google docs, but it's kinda cute ngl so everyone gets to see it Tags: Not SFW, set at the start of Alexandria era, takes place from Daryl's POV. Word count: 10.5k.

Daryl is a hands-on type of man.

He was never one to dawdle, sitting in one place for too long made him squirm. He swore it could be an allergy or some shit. Gets him all itchy and shifting his weight from foot to foot. The problem is, given the general uncertainty surrounding their current living arrangements, Daryl’s limited on what he can and can’t do. For the first time since the dead started walking, he’s caught up in the invisible net of “social expectations”.

Normally, he wouldn’t give a damn, but this isn’t just about him. This is about Judith getting the nutrients she needs. Carl not having to figure out how many sips of his rapidly diminishing water canteen to take to avoid dehydration. The group that’s come to be his family, in every sense of the word, having a roof over their heads and some peace of mind at night. There’s too much on the line for him to screw this up.

So he’s just got to grin and bear it (without the grinning).

Another particular individual comes to mind — all bright smiles and what seems to him to be the physical embodiment of all that’s good in this decaying world — but he swats the thought away like a pesky gnat. In his heart of hearts, he knows he’s dealing with the uppity bullshit for everyone’s sake, but… maybe there is one person he’s putting in the extra effort for. The person that kept him from glaring at some old folk who were looking at him earlier this morning like he was some escaped convict, the person who he’d kill for if it ever came down to it. Someone he already has killed for.

“Got room for one more?”

Daryl almost jumps out of his skin at the abrupt awakening from his thoughts, though from anyone else’s perspective, it probably just looks like he’s scowling harder. It’s wholly unlike him to not notice someone’s approach, human or otherwise. He’s about to give a grunt of indifference before it clicks in his brain just who is standing before him.

It’s you, the person he’d swear he wasn’t thinking such mushy thoughts about even if someone tried to waterboard the information out of him. He has to blink a few times for your newly freshened-up appearance to sink in. Your skin is clean, not a spec of dirt or grime in sight, the same going for your hair. He can’t remember the last time he’d seen you wear it down. Since the colder months in the prison, maybe? It’s a good look on you. To be fair, he’d think just about anything would look good on you.

One of his shirts, for instance. He can envision it picture it now, clear as day—

He has to stop himself from chasing after that line of thought, recalling with mild embarrassment how he still has yet to answer you.

“Can’t stop ya.”

You roll your eyes at that, giving him a look that screams ‘oh really?’, but take a seat nonetheless. Daryl’s set himself up on the porch of the house the group’s been granted. Given the position of the sun in the sky, he figures it’s about noon now. The shift in time brought a volume change. This morning, he could hear the chatter coming from within like he was in the room, everyone having finally received a proper night’s sleep for the first time in who knows how long. It quieted down when the group dispersed to their newly assigned jobs, or in the case of others, to sightsee.

Daryl takes a long drag of his cigarette while you situate yourself next to him on the porch’s steps. He eyes your outfit from his peripherals, an odd wave of something inexplicable rushing over him at the sight. It’s a nice white blouse with some jeans maybe a size or two too large for you. He can’t help but give his garments a once over. They still show evidence of the rough past few months spent living on the road. Now that he thinks about it, everything about him probably sends that message. He’d yet to take a shower or do so much as clean his face.

Is that why the Alexandrians had been giving him the side eye? Everyone else had practically been tripping over each other at the opportunity to shower, whereas he couldn’t bring himself to care. He’d disregarded Carol’s comments about it and would likely do the same if anyone had the balls to bring it up to his face, but for some reason, having you in his general vicinity is making him feel uncharacteristically self-conscious. You’re not looking at him with disgust, or looking at him with anything really, just your trademark smile that made him feel like melting into a pile of happy goo.

“You didn’t feel up to going out and exploring?” You inquire, hugging a knee to your chest. He shakes his head. At this, you scoot closer, excitement radiating from your being. “Want to come check it out with me, then? It feels… weird going places by myself. We’d always pair up in twos at least. I feel like I’m betraying our unspoken buddy system.”

He snorts at that. “Nah, ‘ve seen all I need to already.”

He knows he needs to change the subject before you decide this is a venture worth pursuing. If you gave him those damn doe eyes and asked sweetly enough, he’d do just about anything you asked. Hell, you didn’t even need to do all that for him to almost always cave. This weakness of his went mostly unnoticed to himself (or maybe he didn’t want to acknowledge it), until Merle put two and two together. It didn’t take him long either. He’d asked none too quietly how his little brother ended up pussy-whipped in his absence. Daryl had almost converted when he realized some higher power stopped you from overhearing the comment.

Unfortunately, that wasn’t the last smarmy comment about you Merle was destined to make. If anything, that was one of the more forgivable remarks, since the brunt of it was directed at him.

No, the worst had come when Merle had been tasked with taking Michonne to The Governor. It was a regrettable final exchange between brothers all around. Daryl can’t recall exactly how the conversation had shifted to you, or the exact words that led up to that final gut punch, but he can still hear his brother’s mocking voice speak the sentence that’s haunted him ever since.

“You've been so busy drooling over her to realize, so let me spell it out for ya nice and slow. She ain't ever gonna want you the same way you want her. We're freaks to people like that. Nothing but redneck trash. And don’t you ever forget it.”

Daryl inhales deeply, the scent of cheap tobacco mixing with the shampoo you must’ve used. It’s light and sweet. Nothing could fit you better.

“Thought you’d be at the infirmary by now,” Daryl isn’t sure who he’s trying to distract anymore — you, or him. “Got ran off already?”

Your closed-mouth smile falters for a millisecond. Anyone else might not have noticed the nearly imperceptible change, but Daryl’s got a hunter’s eye, not to mention how attuned he is to your every mannerism. He’s ready to shove his personal woes aside if it means making room for yours.

“Well, that’s a way to describe it,” he can tell by your tone that you’re trying to keep the conversation lighthearted. How very like you. “When Deanna interviewed me, I not-so-subtly hinted at everything I had learned from Hershel. Although, to be fair, I talked up everyone from our group. I even defended Eugene’s honor like the man had won a Pulitzer. I would’ve said anything if it meant not getting thrown back out there.”

He nods, listening to your every word as if the secrets to the universe were held within.

“Anyway… I guess my sales pitch went purposefully unnoticed. She did say that she’d let the resident doctor know, but that he was ‘particular’ about how he goes about his practice. I think that’s politician talk for ‘not gonna happen’. She seemed eager to move on from the subject. So, for the time being, we’re both unemployed.”

Daryl has to will himself not to get distracted and laugh at your joke. He knows you don’t like to be ‘a downer’ (your words, not his), which leads you to hide negative sentiments behind that pretty smile. He gets it, because he does the same thing, utilizing a gruff exterior instead of your near-blinding charm.

“‘S stupid. Don’t let it get to ya.”

“Oh, I won’t,” you grin at him genuinely enough. He temporarily reassesses, wondering if he read you wrong, when your shoulders slightly slump. “I just really want this to work. We need this to work. The fact we lasted out there for so long, with a baby, is almost enough to have me asking Gabriel if he can send my regards to the big man in the sky.”

“It’ll work,” he tells you, his tongue working faster than his brain. You give him a hesitant nod. You know just as well as he does that there’s no way to make guarantees like that. Still, when Daryl’s so used to seeing you in bloom, having you wilt beside him hurts. Worse than a knife being twisted in his gut.

“Yeah,” your voice drops to a whisper then. You glance around, as if checking for prying eyes and ears, then continue when satisfied there are none. “I hope everyone else thinks so too. Rick looks to me like he's been thinking 'Viva La Vida' ever since we first set foot inside.”

Daryl searches the recesses of his brain to grasp at what your vague term means, squinting while he does so. He thinks he may have heard it in a history class at some point, in between playing hooky. Sensing his confusion, you elaborate, but not without throwing in a shitty French accent that has no business sounding as cute as it does.

“Révolution.”

You’re more perceptive than you let on, aren’t you? He wonders if Carol has been taking notes, considering the friendly-totally-not-threatening-cookie-and-casserole-making façade she’s recently adopted. He supposes it’s a bit different. You don’t actively hide your strengths, but you don’t go around advertising them either.

It was one of the first things Daryl noticed about you. In truth, he hadn’t given you much thought when he initially met you back on the side of the highway in Atlanta. He mentally categorized you as some city girl who’d probably complain about how the mosquitos are constantly biting or whatever. While you did express your fair share of disdain over the bloodsucking bugs, it was more of an icebreaker than anything. A way to loosen people up. Lighten the spirits when things got too heavy.

You were the opposite of Daryl in that way, a bonafide people magnet. He hadn’t given this quality of yours enough credit until he saw you bring a smile to Carl’s face soon after his mom’s tragic death. Then there was the way you cared for the people he found out on the road back in the prison days. They were often understandably closed off, disbelieving of the security the chain link fences supposedly provided. You made it a point to help bring them into the fold. No one asked you to, you just did it, because that’s the type of person you are.

Daryl brought people in, you made them feel at home. He cherished that little connection he had with you. It made him feel warm and fuzzy, like he’d downed enough liquor to feel buzzed without getting drunk. Everything about you was similarly stupefying and addicting.

When the prison fell, he thought all possibilities of restoring that connection fell with it. A silly thing to mourn, but he mourned it nonetheless, another line on a seemingly infinite list. Maybe… maybe it doesn’t have to be a figment of the past. If this place, Alexandria, is where your group decides to kick up their feet, he could start recruiting again. Look forward to seeing how you run over to greet the fresh faces upon hearing of his return.

It’s a nice thought. He’ll have to see if reality is anywhere near as kind.

“Rick’s just wary, ‘s all. Hard not to be. Y’know how it was out there. What we saw.”

“… Yeah,” you shift in your seat. “Well, at least these folks didn’t break out the salt and pepper when we walked through the gates.”

“Jesus Christ, woman.”

He can’t stop a single chuckle from slipping out, though he still cringes at the Terminus callback.

“Heard they got a shrink somewhere ‘round here. Might wanna look into that.”

“Hey, I said I’m trying to make this work, not end up in a Hannibal Lecter getup.”

You and your damn movie references. At least he’s familiar with this one. Sometimes he swore you and Eugene were speaking in another language when you two got on the topic of entertainment. Not being able to share that interest with you made him feel a certain way — a real shitty way.

“You’re the last one of us they’d throw out,” Daryl muses. You tilt your head at that, furrowing your eyebrows like when he’d first recounted the chupacabra story. He decides not to expand on the subject; it has too many of his feelings intertwined. Not worth the risk. “Unless they catch wind of your shitty sense of humor. Can’t say what’d happen then.”

You place a hand to your chest in faux indignation. “Well, Dixon, you laugh at my ‘shitty sense of humor’ more often than you don’t, so what does that say about you?”

A lot of things he can’t bring himself to admit out loud, mostly.

You give him a playful punch in the shoulder when he doesn’t dignify you with a response. The touch is so innocent, a mere brush of your knuckles against his skin, yet it throws his mind into temporary disarray. The effect you have on him could be subject to study; it’s as if every nerve in his body is set on fire. He feels warm, from his face to the tip of his ears. Then that heat drifts steadily downward. It’s then that he becomes fully aware of how close you are. How he can see your collarbones, and if he tilts his head at just the right angle, the start of some cleavage.

It’s got to be wrong, how much he desires you. The ways he desires you. It makes him feel ickier than the months without a proper shower ever could. You’re so bright, so kind, so good, he shouldn’t be lusting after you like some boy whose voice hasn’t broken yet. You trust him, he knows you do. He’s overheard you go so far as to call him one of your closest friends. Considering the far better options you have out there, he should feel blessed you even give him that much. Wanting anything more than that isn’t just greedy, it’s downright risky.

Daryl would never forgive himself if he made you the slightest bit uncomfortable, he’s given people shit for less. Someone could look in your general direction for too long and he’d start glaring.

Right when he starts willing himself to pull his head out of the gutter, you go to tie your hair up, effectively shutting any possibility of him doing that down. Your chest arches forward at the movement and he’s treated to a lovely view of your neck. You must sense the heavy way he’s staring at you, for you turn your head towards him. He doesn’t make the situation any better by shifting his attention ahead fast enough to almost give him whiplash.

“Are you planning on coming to that welcoming party tonight?”

Daryl has to bite back a groan at this topic of conversation. Why is everyone so damn interested in his attendance to some yuppie soiree? He knows that if the request is coming from you, it’ll steadily break his resolve down.

His facial expressions must have betrayed his thoughts, for you laugh. “I didn’t think so. I can’t blame you. I’m actually planning on bailing at the first opportunity I get.”

He raises an eyebrow at this. “Really? Can’t believe ’m hearing that from Miss Social Butterfly.”

“I think I’m more of a social caterpillar for the time being. It’s just, uh, a lot. I’m pretty sure Rick wants to put me on display as some sort of standup citizen like back on the farm. That I could handle. This, I’m not so sure. I don’t know the first thing about croquet. I feel like I’m lowering the GDP just by being in the general vicinity.”

He has to stop himself from gawking. He can’t fathom why you of all people would feel this way. That elderly couple who was staring him down probably would’ve fawned over you, pinched your cheeks and welcomed you in for quinoa. He’s about to voice this when your comment about the farm catches his attention more.

“The hell’d he have you do on the farm?”

“Oh, that’s right, you may not have noticed. I’d mostly situate myself in the areas Hershel was bound to come across with a Bible in my hands. Y’know, nodding my head and stuff, looking really into it. Worked like a charm. Tensions were high, but I think he felt slightly less inclined to send us packing knowing there was a God-fearing individual among us.”

He snorts, shaking his head in disbelief. You really were something else. He swears he could talk to you for hours if you allowed him.

“Try the Bible-thumping again. Might just do the trick.”

“Somehow or another, I doubt that. You’ve noticed it, haven’t you? The staring. I swear I saw some blinds being drawn when we all came out earlier.”

Of course he’d noticed. He’s likely half the reason behind it. “That’s what you’re ‘ere for. To get ‘em to stop looking at us like a damn circus act.”

“You and Rick are overestimating me. Maggie and Glenn have got it covered, little Judith adds brownie points too,” you tilt your head back to look at the cloudless sky. “Anyway, I figured if you planned on ditching, I’d invite myself along. Buddy system, remember?”

He flicks the cigarette out of his hands and onto the ground, extinguishing it beneath the sole of his boot. “Like I said earlier — can’t stop ya.”

Daryl silently praises himself for keeping up the cool and indifferent front when he’s internally celebrating over the prospect of having more alone time with you. What he wouldn’t give for more of that. He hasn’t the slightest damn clue why you seem to favor his company, but if there’s anything the apocalypse has taught him, it’s to accept a miracle when he’s handed one.

You smile at him as if he’d just offered you the world on a silver platter. It does too much to his poor heart.

“Great! It’s a date then.”

He almost chokes on his spit from how casually you say that, his eyes wide blown and jaw slacking. Fortunately, you’re none the wiser, standing up and patting the dirt off your jeans. The realization you’re about to leave makes him feel pathetically empty. He’d spent just about every moment of the past few weeks by your side, yet it wasn’t enough, he doesn’t think anything can be enough. The more of you he gets, the more of you he wants. You’re worse than the drugs his brother used to sing the praises of.

“Heading out?” Daryl can’t stop himself from questioning, no matter how obvious it might make him look. The porch steps already felt a whole lot emptier without you sitting beside him.

“Yeah, I promised to save Michonne if she wasn’t back in ten. She’s getting swarmed by children curious about her sword.”

“Good luck on your search n’ rescue.”

You give him a silly salute then, finishing the pantomime off with a bout of giggles. Then you’re off. Daryl exhales shakily, cursing himself for the way his heart’s pounding like he’d just run a marathon. He knows he needs to squash this lovesickness before it’s too late — if it isn’t already too late. He didn’t agree with Merle on a lot of things, especially when it came to you, but that last remark rings true. It’d be laughable for him to delude himself into thinking you feel anything but platonic affection toward him.

Especially with the options you have here in Alexandria. It may have been slim pickings before, but now, you might as well have an entire buffet laid out. You’re bound to catch the eye of some of the folk around here. If you could get him to like you, he figures you could win over almost anyone. Why would you give him the time of day when there are those clean-shaven, college-educated men running around like they own the place? If the world hadn’t gone to shit, that’s probably who you would’ve gone for.

It’s only because the world went to shit that you even know his name.

Watching how some Alexandrians wave at you, a gesture you animatedly return, he reaches for another smoke.

His brother’s words echo in his head, falling somewhere between a taunt and a warning.

“She ain't ever gonna want you the same way you want her.”

He would do well to remember that, wouldn’t he?

-

If someone told Daryl he’d died and gone to heaven, he’d believe them.

You’re leaning against one of the porch’s pillars, humming a tune to yourself, not having noticed his presence yet. He decides to keep it that way if it means he gets to admire you a while longer. You’re wearing a dark blue dress (he can imagine you correcting him and calling it ‘indigo’ or some shit), looking like an angel incarnate beneath the moonlight. It’s such a simple garment, stopping right above your knees, but to him, you might as well be wearing a ball gown. You’ve got those white tennis shoes that he saw you furiously scrubbing grass stains off of earlier today, the outline of a knife tucked away in them. His chest swells with pride at the knowledge you’re always ready to take care of yourself, thanks in part to his teaching.

Eventually, he manages to break himself free from his you-induced reverie, calling out your name to catch your attention.

You spin on your heel, placing your hands on your hips at the sight of him. “There you are. I thought my ditching buddy ditched me.”

He has to stop himself from saying he’d cross a river of broken glass barefoot if you were standing on the other side, instead settling on, “Aaron and Eric invited me over, figured you’d still be at the party. Did I keep ya waiting long?”

“No, you didn’t, I’m just being dramatic,” you revert back to your usual posture and grin. “It’s good. That they invited you over and you accepted it, I mean. Aaron’s a cool guy. Eric is too, from what I can tell. You guys have some manly bonding time?”

He rolls his eyes at the teasing lilt in your voice. “Mhm, sat around chuggin’ beer and talking ‘bout sports for hours. You?”

“Nothing of much note went down, just a lot of handshaking. I did get stuck talking to one of Deanna’s son for a while, though. I had to practically jump through hoops of fire to escape.”

Daryl swallows down the unpleasant taste that revelation leaves in his mouth. “You don’t like ‘im?”

“He’s… fine, I guess? Harmless enough. Just a really dry conversationalist, which to me, is a cardinal sin,” you stretch your arm above your head and Daryl has to stop himself from staring at how your skirt lifts up, revealing more of your shapely legs. Shit, he really does drool over you. “Oh, you’ll get a kick out of this. He invited me to a game of croquet. I was joking about that earlier, turns out I was right on the money.”

“You’re shitting me,” he deadpans.

“As much as I wish I was, no. God. I knew they’d be a bit sheltered here, but this… I don’t know. It worries me. I wish I could tell myself they can keep living this way, because that’s what they’re doing. Living. They really don’t know how bad it is. And if the bad ever makes its way here…”

You trail off, not needing to fill in the gaps for Daryl to piece it together. He gets what you mean. The entire group does. Carol thinks they’re children and Rick’s ready to take over at the drop of a hat. No one aside from you has expressed concern about their wellbeing out loud, although it’d been in the back of his mind when he saw there were children and old folk here. It’s this compassion of yours that brings him in like a moth to light. After everything you’d been through, you had every right to become a bitter husk of the woman you once were, but you haven’t.

And he thanks the God he isn’t sure he believes in for it.

After a moment’s deliberation, he sets his hand on your shoulder and squeezes. “It ain’t too late for ‘em. You learned. So can they.”

“Well, it did help that I had an excellent teacher.”

He grumbles a ‘shut up’ despite wanting you to do anything but.

Silence sets in for a few beats then. It takes him longer to notice this than it usually would, his head caught up in the near-euphoric experience of receiving a compliment from you. He realizes that he has yet to take his hand off your shoulder and has undoubtedly let it linger too long. He clears his throat, detaching himself from your person with some reluctance, suddenly taking an acute interest in the floorboards you’re both standing on.

Why is it still silent, save for the buzz of cicadas and the chirps of grasshoppers? Shit, did he cross some invisible line in the sand?

“Daryl?”

He grunts at that, not trusting his voice when his thoughts are at war with one another.

“You really are a good man.”

His head shoots back up and he’s searching your countenance for any signs of deception. You’re always teasing one another, this could be another instance of that. However, when your eyes meet his, he sees nothing but unabashed admiration shining in them. He doesn’t think he deserves to be looked at that way, much less by you of all people. You were looking at him like he was the second coming of Christ or something. It makes his stomach do backflips and his poor heart might go into cardiac arrest.

He tries to dismiss your claim with a lighthearted ‘nah’, not because he can’t accept the compliment, but because he doesn’t think it’s true. If you knew the way he thought about you, you’d take your words right back. Look at him the way people have his entire life. Disgust, maybe some pity. Doing what anyone would’ve done doesn’t make him a saint, no matter how hard you and Carol try to argue otherwise.

“You might not believe it, but I hope me thinking so suffices in the meantime,” you say, doing that creepy mind-reading thing you tend to be good at. “I’m truly grateful I met you. You make this life worth living.”

Should you keep going on like this, you might make him well up with tears. He’s glad there aren’t any reflective surfaces nearby because he can’t fathom the expression must be making. What is this? What are you doing to him? Those soft, kissable lips of yours must’ve casted a spell. You’re reaching forward now, pressing your palm against his cheek, and he considers pinching himself to see if this is all a dream.

If it is, he might not want to wake up.

Out of some primal, base instinct, he leans down, wanting nothing more than anything to get a taste of you. It’s when his lips are a few inches from yours that his brother’s words come hurling his way, knocking him off balance and making him jerk backwards. He sees something flit over your face — hates himself for it, too — the sight further reinforcing the prophecy spoken over him.

You deserve more. You deserve some man who knows how to speak what’s on his mind, who doesn’t shy away the second a conversation gets the slightest bit personal. Daryl doesn’t know how to do that, he might never figure it out either. If he does try, you’d have to bear the brunt of his inexperience, and your patience is bound to run out. He can barely put up with it himself sometimes, he can’t fathom putting you through it too.

“Are you okay?”

You’re staring up at him, your eyebrows knitting together, a frown that he so desperately longs to kiss away on your lips. He should be the one asking you that. From your perspective, you must figure he’s rejecting you. And still, you don’t stomp off in a huff or put him down. The tenderness emanating from those three words melts his heart like snow come spring. He opens his mouth, then closes it, licking his lower lip while trying to decide the best approach. Catching those damn hogs back at the prison was easier than getting a few words dislodged from his throat.

“You… you’re sure?” Daryl winces at how unlike himself he sounds when whispering this. “You feel that way ‘bout me?”

The pad of your thumb runs over his cheekbone. “Mhm. Guilty as charged.”

No matter how nonchalant you’re trying to act, he can feel the way your hand shakes against him. See the lines of worry you try to cover with a smile. Hear your every shallow breath. This must be fucking terrifying for you, baring yourself before him like you did, granting him a glimpse of your heart. His mask is one of indifference and yours is one of charm. You’re trying to keep things light like all those times on the road. When he saw you tossing and turning in your sleep, fighting back tears when you thought no one was looking.

He knew. He’s always known. He just never knew what to do about it, how to provide the same comfort you gave others.

“I wanna look out for you,” Daryl’s larger hand envelops the one you’ve placed on his face, causing your eyebrows to raise ever so slightly. “Wanna… wanna keep you safe and smiling. Want you to feel like you can do more than that ‘round me too. You can cry, get angry. ‘S alright. I know. I know.”

Tears well up on your lower lash line, and maybe he should feel a bit guilty for thinking so, but damn, you look beautiful. “See? This is what I meant when I said you’re a good man.”

“Cut it with your shitty jokes, woman,” he knows his bark is worse than his bite when you laugh at him, tilting your head back and revealing more of that tempting neck of yours. He swears to burn this image into the recesses of his mind for as long as he lives. You’re being you, he’s being him, and there’s nothing better.

All his bravado slips through his fingers like sand when you stand up on your tiptoes, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him closer. You breathe a taunting command against the shell of his ear and he shivers.

“Make me.”

That successfully ignites the competitive streak you know he has.

For how coquettish you were acting, you return his kiss in a gentle manner, and he reciprocates the pace you set. His hands find their way to your waist without daring to go lower, no matter how loudly his instincts urge otherwise. He’d sooner breathe his last breath than make you feel uncomfortable. If this sweet kiss is all you want, he’d count himself a blessed man from this day forward. It’s you who parts first, leaning back just enough to give your lungs some much-needed air. You stare up at him through your eyelashes, giving him that look that would make him agree to anything you ask.

“Do you want… to take this inside?”

Your voice dies off toward the end and he swears his brain temporarily shut off at the implication. Barely a second earlier he was thinking how he’d die a happy man just for getting a simple kiss from you, he’d written off the possibility of anything more than that. He nods his head, his hand going to the small of your back to lead you inside, when you turn and start making for the front lawn.

Reading the confusion on his face, you explain, “We were given two houses, remember? It might be a better idea to use the empty one for this.”

Daryl really had forgotten the rest of the world exists when he was in that bubble with you. The streets may be empty, but who knows how long that welcoming party will last. He’s grateful one of you has a head clear enough to consider these things. You’re his smart girl for a reason.

“Ya plan this?” He can’t stop himself from asking when he half-jogs after you. The thoughts that run through his head when you bend over to pick up a key hidden beneath a welcome mat will stay between him and God. You slot it into place, turn, then open the door, beckoning him to follow with a finger. He feels his pants growing tighter by the second.

“I’d be a liar if I said yes, though I wish I could take credit for everything,” you lock the door behind him. “No… it just felt like it was time. I’d been waiting for my moment for ages. Guess I got a little impatient.”

Your back is up against the door the second that last word is out of your mouth. He takes your lips for his own again, something like a gasp leaving him when you lift a leg to curl around his waist. He steadies you with his hands to ensure you don’t fall over, the air in the room feeling thicker than those humid Georgian summers you spent together. When he senses you’re stable enough, he lifts one hand to cup your cheek like you did to him, pulling you as close as he physically can. Your arms are around his neck once more, playing with the ends of his hair that he’s grateful he washed hours prior. He hadn’t anticipated this, yet knowing he had plans to spend time with you gave him the motivation to clean up.

Rick teased him for it earlier. The former sheriff had walked in on him shaping up his beard, a knowing smile on his lips.

“Saw [First], didn’t you?”

“Shut up, man.”

Officer Friendly had called it. Carol gave him a nod that made him figure she knew it too. So much for being covert about his feelings for you. Deep down, he knew it must be obvious, the extensive special treatment he gave you. His brother wasn’t too far off with his pussy-whipped comment, crass or not. Daryl would offer you his last bite of rations, final sip of water, hell, he asked if you wanted him to carry you on the grueling walk to DC when everyone was at their wit’s end. You had given him a weak chuckle and said he wasn’t in any shape to do that.

Regardless of how true that was, had you said yes, he still would’ve found a way to make it happen.

You were that precious to him.

Daryl starts tugging the hem of your dress, revealing the tantalizing sight of your bare thighs beneath. Before he can pull it up any further, your hand is on his, and he stops in fear he’d done something wrong.

Those self-doubts are washed away by the sheer neediness in your next word. “Bedroom?”

You don’t need to ask him twice.

The noise you let out when he lifts you up has got to be one of the cutest damn things he’s ever heard. Your response is immediate, you encircle your limbs around him, clinging on like he’d ever dare to drop you. The house doesn’t have any lights on, but Daryl’s eyes are good in the dark. He carries you up the steps while you bury yourself in the crook of his neck. He finds an empty master bedroom, shuts and locks the door behind him, then brings you over to the queen-sized bed.

You start to take your sneakers off when he touches your wrist and shakes his head. Before you can question his intentions, he kneels in front of you, getting down on his hands and knees. This here is a gift you’re giving him. He’d be damned if he didn’t act accordingly. He takes your shoes off with a surprising amount of patience, pressing a chaste kiss to your shin when he’s done.

“You sure you’re alright with this?” His voice comes out deeper than he’s ever heard it. “That you want it?”

“I’m absolutely positive. I’ll even beg, if you ask nicely enough. I’m nice like that.”

He squeezes your thighs. “There you go, running that mouth o’ yours again.”

“You could always make it so I can’t.”

Daryl raises an eyebrow at the insinuation, his cock twitching inside his briefs at the mental image it conjures up. You, sitting pretty on your hands and knees, mouth open and waiting for him. Knowing you, you’d probably rile him up first. Kiss his tip and apply the bare minimum amount of pressure. Would you take him in slow? Lick him up and down the side while staring up at him with those gorgeous eyes?

Tempting as it is to find out, he’s got other plans in mind. He wants to see your face twist in pleasure and hear his name fall from your lips. It’d do his pride some good to know one as sought over as you chose him.

You start playing with the straps of your dress, pulling him from his fantasies. “Do you want to take this off, or should I?”

He bites his lower lip hard enough that it’s a miracle it doesn’t start bleeding. He had intended to unwrap the present before him, but when you put it like that… it makes him curious about the alternative. He’d love to see what little show you’d put on for him, he’s got front-row seats, after all.

“Alright. Let’s see it.”

Daryl gets up from his kneeling position and takes a seat beside you on the bed. You get the hint, standing with legs that wobble ever so slightly. You don’t look surprised when he chooses to poke fun at your current state.

“Woah there, you good? Legs still work?”

You stick your tongue out at him. “Better than ever, thank you very much.”

He leans back, making himself comfortable for whatever comes next. “Mhm. Whatever you say, princess.”

At hearing the sarcastic nickname, you go stiff as a board. He catches the way your pupils dilate. You press your face into your hands to muffle a groan, hiding a very noticeably flustered expression from his prying eyes.

“I haven’t heard you call me that for ages. I think it may have awoken something in me,” you confess, pulling your hands away at his prompting. “I may or may not have developed the biggest crush on you when you called me that back at the prison. It got me riled up every time. Even if I was laying on my ass ‘cause you flipped me over for the umpteenth time that day.”

Daryl snorts at the memory. “Ya always did seem to be out for blood after I said it.”

He keeps the fact that he found your frustration cute. It was a hidden ace up his sleeve that he utilized when it looked like you were about to give up, his training regiment admittedly brutal. He couldn’t risk going easy on you with the world being the way it is. You’d be down on the grass, soaked in sweat, groaning for him to call it a day because ‘you think every bone in your body is broken’. Apparently, all it took was a little taunting for you to hop right back on your feet again.

Your competitive streak might be as bad as his.

“Did you like me then, Daryl?” You question, dropping the left shoulder strap just enough to give him a treat. “You must’ve, if you never shooed me away.”

Damn freakishly perceptive woman. “Why ya asking if you already know the answer?”

“Because your voice is the best sound I’ve ever heard. Can’t blame a girl for wanting to hear more of it.”

He grunts, unable to meet your eyes after an embarrassing proclamation like that, his face flushing. How is it you say half the stuff you do? You and your stupid silver tongue would be the death of him. There are worse ways to go, he figures. He struggles to keep his eyes focused on the wall when you lean forward, granting him an unrivaled sight of your cleavage. His embarrassment still slightly outweighs his burning desire to ogle you. Sensing this, you splay your fingers against his clothed chest. Slowly, ever so slowly, your hand ghosts upward. Over his jugular then settling on his jaw. You move his face until he’s looking you dead in the eye again.

“Hey handsome,” your voice pours over him, sweet and thick like honey, “Eyes over here. I get jealous rather easily.”

God, he hopes you don’t notice the goosebumps dotting his skin. Maybe you were a cross between an angel and a witch, what with your ability to enthrall him. His boxers have never felt more uncomfortable in his life. He balls his hands into fists by his side, utilizing every ounce of his self-control to stop himself from picking you up, throwing you on the bed, and utterly ravishing you.

“That so?”

“Mhm,” you confirm, the next strap falling victim to your ministrations. The front of your dress starts to slip down. His Adam's apple bobs from how thickly he swallows. The swell of your chest comes into view, pushed up by your nude-colored bra. His knuckles go white from how tight he’s grabbing the comforter to keep himself in check. You’re treating him to a show, it’d be rude to interrupt your performance now.

Without the support of the straps, the fabric continues falling, revealing more and more of your beautiful body for him. The wet patch of your panties isn’t lost on him — you’re relishing in every second like he is. While never looking away from him, your hands disappear behind your back, fiddling with your bra strap. He swears he’s never felt less like a man and more like a beast when he’s finally able to see your chest in its entirety.

You walk to him as if you have all the time in the world, your knees hitting the bed’s side not nearly fast enough for his liking. Finally, you take a seat on his lap, your crotch pressing perfectly against his. He lets out a low groan then, grateful for any pressure to relieve the near painful hard-on you’ve given him. His hands settle on your ass, grinding you against his clothed length, and you stifle a moan by biting down on your lower lip.

Daryl tuts, stopping before he’s even begun. “Nah, I don’t think so. Don’t go getting shy on me now, girl. Ain’t like ya.”

After a moment’s consideration, you nod your head, your eagerness apparently outweighing the shame he didn’t know you had. He grins at you, resuming his previous actions and earning those debauched noises he’s longed to hear. Your panties might be staining his jeans, but he can’t find it in himself to complain, he’d wear it like a damn badge of pride. You’re his woman now. He belongs to you as well — heart, mind, body, and soul — if you asked, he’d happily hand it over.

“It feel good? Hm?”

“Like everything I ever wanted and more,” you confess, the breathiness of your voice making his brain feel hazy. “You’re— god— I adore you, Daryl. You’re so good to me.”

His lips are on yours then, this kiss being the messiest yet. His tongue pokes at your lips, and when you part them, ready to receive whatever he’s willing to give, his tongue goes to explore the newfound territory. You taste sweet (is that chocolate?), like the best treat he’s ever been given. He swallows your little gasps and whimpers, giving your ass a firm squeeze to ground himself.

Daryl can’t believe this is really happening. That you want him as much as he wants you and have no qualms showing it. He might be drunk on lust, but there’s something else in there, a flavor he’s never experienced before you stumbled into his life. It’s sweeter than the chocolate, more addicting than the bottle.

He loves you. He has for the longest time.

He slows down his maneuvering of your body, letting you catch your breath and tuck a strand of hair behind his ear.

“You okay?” You ask in between huffs, peppering his hairline with featherlight kisses.

“Better than ever,” he repeats your words from earlier, albeit with a southern drawl. Faster than you can process it, he flips you over, kicking his shoes off to lord knows where. You get over your surprise fast enough and shuffle back to make room for him. He hovers above you, almost uncertain of where to start. You must be feeling particularly gracious, for you let him drink in the sight of you without making any smart comments. Your body is pure eye candy and he’d be damned if he didn’t get himself a nice taste.

His lips are feverish against your neck, alternating between bites and open-mouthed kisses. He’s finally able to lavish your chest in some well-deserved attention, his rough palms pressing against the flesh, feeling you up like his life depended on it. You, being the perfect creature you are, grind up against him, drawing out a growl from his throat.

“It alright if I mark you up?” He breathes against your skin in between kisses. “Show everyone you’re mine?”

“Yes, please do.”

Never one to deny you anything, especially when you ask so nicely, he gets to work leaving proof of this tryst on your neck. Little bruises start to form where he’s concentrated his attention, right above your racing pulse. Content with its appearance, his lips start adventuring down. He takes a nipple into his mouth and sucks, more than pleased at the gasp you let out in response. While his tongue swirls around you, his hand makes its way to the hem of your panties, the last clothing item keeping you from being entirely bare. He detaches himself from your chest with some reluctance, so he can witness this final barrier being torn away.

“If you look at me like that, I might just get embarrassed,” you laugh at the halfhearted glare he gives you for the comment. He supposes it wouldn’t be you if you weren’t actively trying to rile him up. You were coy like that, frequently looking for a way to get him going, not that he minded. It’s starting to add up in retrospect. You’d been flirting with him all this time, a fact that went right over his head.

“‘S fine by me. Would probably do you some good.”

Your eyes crinkle from how wide your smile is, unadulterated affection gleaming in your eyes. He can’t help himself — he bends down to peck your now pouting lips. Tempting as it is to kiss you silly for the remainder of the night, he’s a man on a mission. You lift your legs to help him get that final undergarment off. He sets it aside so you won’t have any difficulty finding it later. Then he’s drinking in the beauty that is your glistening folds, subconsciously licking his lips at such an appetizing display.

A soft call of his name breaks him from his stupor. “Hm?”

“Don’t, uh, feel like you have to do that,” you give him a sheepish glance. “It’s okay if you just want to, y’know.”

If he were a cruel man, he’d tease you until you squirmed for how adorable you’re acting, but he decides to have mercy. Gotta be gracious with the love of your life and all that. Still, he can’t help feeling slightly miffed you’d think he’s going to eat you out over some obligation. Your pleasure is his pleasure, your happiness is his happiness. He thought his desperation for you soaked into his every action since you confessed on that porch. Then he remembers he hasn’t got much room to talk, the voice of insecurity could be brought down to a whisper, yet never entirely silenced.

He gives your pelvis a kiss. “I wanna. Simple as that.”

Daryl’s reassurance comes out gruff, and while it might not be dripping with romance, it visibly puts you at ease. He doesn’t do anything until you nod. Then he’s in between your legs, feeling more at home by the second. He kisses you up your inner thigh, his beard tickling over the smooth expanse of skin. Finally, his tongue slips between his lips, pressing flat against your cunt. The way you shudder encourages him to repeat the action, testing the new waters with care.

His technique isn’t the most refined, but he’s eager, lapping you up with unmatched zeal. The wet sounds of him feasting himself on you fill the room, and he thinks it might be one of the best sounds to grace his ears. He alternates between licking you and pulling on your folds toward him slightly with his teeth. Whatever it is he’s doing, you seem to be enjoying it, if the way your legs go wide for him is any indicator. He pulls you flush against his mouth by your love handles, delighting in how you moan so prettily for him. He’d tried to imagine what you might sound like if he ever had a chance with you, what dulcet tones your voice would take on.

Those thoughts were enough to satisfy him on lonely nights, but they pale in comparison to the real thing. You’re a force of nature. So beguiling, so easy to love, that he’s once again reminded that it’s a miracle he’s the one you’ve chosen. Never has he felt so grateful. People had tried, yet you never went for it. Was he on your mind in those moments? Steering you away from anyone that isn’t him? He could only hope so.

Daryl pulls back, chuckling at the whine you let out at the loss. “Needy thing, ain’t ya?”

“Only for you.”

Once again, you prove to him that you always know what to say. You and your feminine wiles.

“Think you can handle my fingers?”

At this, you nod. He gathers your slick in his pointer and middle finger. He starts with his pointer finger, watching with something like awe as it eases inside you. Once he’s certain that it doesn't hurt, his middle finger is next, stretching out the walls that envelop him. A sinfully delightful sound is produced when he takes his fingers out and slides them back in. He eyes the slick coating his fingers, and after realizing he misses how you taste, dips his head back down to messily kiss your clit. Your hips are thrusting to meet his fingers halfway, an action that doesn’t go unnoticed.

“Close,” you breathe out in between moans, “I’m close.”

He hums against you, the low vibration adding to your mounting pleasure. He doesn’t care if his wrist hurts for the foreseeable future, he wants you to feel good, to completely unravel and show him he’s done a good job. The muscles in your thighs go tense and he hears you let out the most depraved whimper of his name. He doesn’t let up, hellbent on seeing you through the entirety of your high.

Your body goes limp as a ragdoll against the bed. Gently, you pull him back, combing your fingers through his tousled hair. He removes his fingers from you and plops them into his mouth, content to savor your taste a while longer. It’s second only to the taste of your lips. Once he’s finished cleaning them off, you guide his hand to your face, and he watches the act with muted confusion. He lets out a sound like a choke when your mouth wraps around his fingers, hollowing your cheeks while you do so.

“Christ, woman. You tryna kill me?”

A quiet pop sound resonates in the room when you detach yourself from him. “Of course not. I’m far too enamored with you.”

Daryl still can’t entirely fathom why exactly that is, but he keeps the thought to himself.

In his fervor, he neglected to shed his own clothes, a fault he works to remedy. There’s nothing he wants more than to feel your skin against his without any barriers. He stands up to make the process easier, starting with his vest, then the halfway decent shirt he picked for the night. Next is his buckle and jeans. He doesn’t have time to feel self-conscious, not when you’re laying there, waiting for him so well. The scars and other various imperfections marring his skin must be difficult to make out in the low light, anyway. He knows you wouldn’t judge him — he feels it in his bones — yet that’s a can of worms he’d prefer to leave for another day.

He lets out a sigh of relief when his cock is freed from its restraints. Copious amounts of pre-cum leak from the tip, a testimony to your influence on him. He gives himself a few strokes, yet stops when he releases how sensitive he is. He wants to make this last. He needs to make this last. He knows that every second he spends inside you is bound to feel like heaven on earth.

Daryl crawls over to you. You part your legs without him needing to ask, your eyes lidded and hair messily framing your face. He lines himself up at your entrance yet makes no movement beyond that. This isn’t an act that’s meant to be rushed through — no, he intends to savor every second as if it were his last. The intensity of his stare can only be matched by yours. It’s an intimate moment, this little reality you carved out together, apart from the struggle and anguish you’d both become so familiar with.

He knows it won’t magically go away. You know it too. But if you have one another, you can both start living again instead of surviving.

“Still sure you want this?”

“I’m sure,” you whisper in a voice meant for his ears and no one else’s. “Please.”

Daryl handles you with care he didn’t even know he was capable of. He begins to push into you, sucking in a breath while he does so, his eyes glued to your face for any signs of discomfort. Your warmth wraps around him and draws him in. When he’s halfway inside, your hand grabs his, fingers intertwining. He stops, rubbing circles into the top of your hand with his thumb, silently admiring every way your face contorts while adjusting to his length. You inhale and exhale shakily before nodding your head, giving his hand a squeeze. He groans when he’s sunk all the way inside you.

You both stay like that for a moment, breathing in each other’s air.

“Have I ever told you,” he almost sounds pained when he speaks, “That you’re fuckin’ gorgeous?”

You give him one of those melodious laughs that makes his heart do things. “This’d be the first time.”

“Won’t be the last.”

You crane your neck to give him a chaste kiss. He’s about to chase after your lips when you pull away, but the words you say next cause all his higher thought to temporarily cease. “You can move now. Fuck me, Daryl.”

He feels himself twitch inside you and curses under his breath. It’s slow at first, so he can gauge what sort of rhythm you might like. The roll of his hips is sensual, his admiration of your facial expressions bordering on worship. Your hands go to his back to find purchase, unintentionally pulling him even closer in the process, and he grunts. He sets a steady pace. You throw your head back into the pillow, letting all your pretty noises out for him unabashedly. Praises fall from your lips, reassuring him of how good he’s making you feel, and how you want everything he’s willing to give. The encouragement makes his chest swell with pride.

You chose him. Out of everyone you could’ve pursued, you gave your affection to him, and that knowledge alone almost feels better than the way your walls flutter around his length.

“I care about you,” he pants into your ear, a declaration that makes you whine. “Have for so long. Want— want to show you. How much you mean t’me.”

Daryl hears you try to muster up a response in between your gasps, but it’s no use, you’re too lost in the throes of pleasure. He notices the way your moans grow higher in pitch, the sound music to his ears. Utilizing what little brain power he has left, he figures you must be getting close. The fact you’re going to come undone around him spurs him on. His fingers find their way to your clit, rubbing rushed circles around it. You tighten around him and it takes all the strength he has not to collapse on you, lost in the dizzying feeling.

There’s no more precision to his movements, everything is messy and frenzied.

You let out a cry of his name, and then a high-pitched whimper of, “I’m—”

And just like that, you unravel for him, nails digging into his skin and hips thrusting forward to meet his. He wills himself to stave off his own release so that you can enjoy yours. The sight and sounds you let out might be the most erotic thing he’s ever seen, he etches every detail of it into his memory.

He loves you, he loves you, he loves you.

Daryl pulls out once he’s certain you’re done, fucking his fist like a man possessed. It doesn’t take much for him to come undone after witnessing what you just showed him. A gruff rendition of your name leaves his lips as he spills out onto his hand, his release coming out in spurts, coating his palm in white.

You both stay still for a few moments, taking the time to catch your breath. You’re the first to move, sluggishly at that, sitting up on your elbows and giving him a content smile. He’s about to cradle your face and put his forehead against yours when he recalls his release is still on his hand. He shifts to get up, noting the attached bathroom in this room. You stop him before he gets the chance, gingerly wrapping your fingers around his wrist, stilling his hand in the process. He gapes like a fish out of water as you lick the remnants off his skin, closing your eyes and humming as if it was the best thing you’d ever tasted.

When you finish helping yourself, you give each of his knuckles a kiss. “I think the bones in my legs are broken. For real this time.”

Daryl snorts at the callback to your prison days, fond nostalgia swirling in his head.

“Need me to carry ya?”

You outstretch your arms for him. “Yes, please.”

He knows you’re being dramatic but can’t bring himself to care. He lifts you up, taking care not to trip on any of the clothes strewn on the floor, then sets you down on the sink’s granite counter. You both help yourselves to some nearby washcloths to get cleaned off. He kisses your shoulder when you’re done. Once back inside the bedroom, he slides his boxers back on, and you, your undergarments. You throw your back onto the bed and stretch, letting out a cute little noise while you do so.

Daryl’s feeling exhausted himself, but he figures you both shouldn’t be missing for too long. It’d make the others worry.

“I’m claiming this as our bedroom,” you fluff out a pillow before laying it down. The way his heart skips a beat at your usage of the word ‘our’ almost embarrasses him. Almost. “I’m not going to let you keep sleeping out on the porch. It hurts my back just thinking about it.”

He makes his way back over to you, footsteps silent against the hardwood. The second he lays down, you’re cozying up against his side, resting your head on his chest. His arms wrap around your frame as if he’d done it a million times before. It’s divine, hearing your steady breathing, feeling the warmth of your body. Despite everything, you’re still here. So is he.

He’ll do anything to keep it that way.

You lift yourself up to get a good look at him, your hair tickling his face. “Hey.”

He grunts to prove he’s listening.

“I love you,” you give him a kiss on his forehead, then his nose, and finally, his lips. “Thank you for letting me.”

The words from his brother on that sweltering day breathe down his neck. For some reason, the specific verbiage can’t form in his mind, it’s more of a muffled voice coming from another room. The sentiment is still there. Piercing, meant to hurt his heart in ways a weapon never could. That deep of a wound won’t heal itself overnight, yet if you’re the one holding the thread and needle, he thinks it can finally start closing.

He only whispers his next words when you press your forehead against his.

“I love you too. More ‘n anything.”

There’s a mischievous glimmer in your eyes which makes him nervous. Uh oh. He knows that look.

“… Enough to be my croquet partner tomorrow at noon?”

“Hell no.”

Unfortunately for him, you know as well as he does that if you keep asking nice enough, he’s bound to give in eventually.

He always does.

[queenie-official]

Chapter Three: ‘First Impressions’ Bridgerton au!Anakin

part 1, part 2

a/n: so the outfits that Obi-Wan and Ani are wearing are the ones in the photos ☝️🤭but guys tell me how i had more of chapter four planned out then i did this chapter 🤨 like i fr already had dialogue for chapter four before i even started this one 😀 anyway i hope you guys like this 🥰

Once more you find yourself pacing around in an endless circle. Today was the day you were to meet him. The wedding was already set to happen in a week. however invitations wouldn’t be handed out for another two days, the council told you it would be wise to get to know your future husband a bit first- but honestly how much could you really learn about a person in such a short amount of time. it’s not like you had a week to get to know each other, no you had the day to get to know him before he’d be back off to his own kingdom till the wedding.

“you need to calm down” Padme’s voice pulled you from your thoughts. you look over to where she’s sat on the settee, a concerned look on her face. you’d asked her to come over and help distract you. to her credit she did try at first but she quickly realized nothing she could say or do would occupy your mind from the days events. “i’m calm” you say trying to convince yourself that more then her. “if you can say that while standing still, i’ll believe you” she retorts whilst standing up and walking over to you forcing you to stop pacing as she places her hands on your shoulders.

“you can’t blame me for being nervous, i mean wether this goes well or not this is the man i am to spend the rest of my life with” you vent, feeling your anxiety swirl. you felt like this was an impossible situation, marrying someone you didn’t know. obviously it was a common thing but it didn’t make the reality of it any weirder to you. “what if he doesn’t want to marry me?” it was a stupid question, the better question would be why would he want to marry you. he was being moved away from his home to a foreign place with different traditions and cultures. not to mention an entirely different climate, you’d read up on Tatooine it was a Warm desert kingdom a direct contrast to Alderaan.

“that’s a possibility” Padme answers, not the reassurance you wanted but you didn’t call padme here because she would lie to make you feel better. you called her here because she would give it to you straight but also support you the best way she could. “so then i’ve forced a man into a loveless marriage” you huff, feeling anger course through you as your once again reminded of the councils rash decision that got you into this.

“most people these days end up in loveless marriages y/n. most women at least, we have no say in who we marry it’s all decided by our fathers.” that once again didn’t make you feel any better but it was the hard truth. “this is going to be a long day” you’d slump over if you could but the corset you had on prevented you from most movement that involved bending of any form. “maybe you’ll be pleasantly surprised” you could only hope she was right.

“i know it’s silly but growing up i always imagined marrying someone i fell in love with. my mom and dad where in love when they got married, a rare occurrence for monarchs. i always pictured having what they did.” you say sadly, it may not be the end of the world that your marrying a stranger but it was the end of that dream. a cruel awakening to your inner child. “it’s not silly, most little girls wish that” Padme says sympathetically.

“if my dad where still alive he’d have ensured it a reality” you say solemnly, feeling your heart tug at the thought. “Bail was a good man, a good king and a good father” you feel your eyes gloss over at her words, it was times like this you really missed him. your father was everything to you, he was all you had when your mother passed and vice versa. losing him felt like mourning two people at once, learning how to cope without your mother all over again in addition to coping without him.

“i miss him” it came out more as a whisper, you felt that if you spoke any louder the dam would break and tears would spill. Padme was quick to pull you into a tight hug. she was a big help when you lost him, a loyal friend who you knew would always be on your side. “i can’t help but feel i’m failing him” you let out the thought that had been nagging at the back of your mind throughout this whole ordeal. “he was and always will be proud of you” she said firmly, rubbing your back gently.

“would he be proud of me for this though?” you couldn’t help but ask. “circumstances changed y/n, you’ve done what you could. besides it’s not as if this was entirely your decision” she reassured you. you take a deep breath, indulging in the hug you both shared a moment longer before pulling away. “speaking of i really need to do something about the council before another reckless decision is made.”

“the sooner you’re crowned the Queen the better” she says with a laugh trying to lighten the mood, though she was being completely serious. right as you where about to respond your conversation was interrupted by Barclay barging in, an occurrence that was becoming more and more frequent with him.

“your majesty they’re here” he said and you stiffened, the reality of the situation crashing down onto you. you knew this was coming but it hadn’t truly felt real til now.

“oh i’m going to be sick” you mumble just loud enough for padme to hear, she gives you a gentle pat on the back a silent way of saying you’ve got this. as if suddenly reminded of her existence Barclay acknowledges her “Lady Amidala pleasure to see you” it surprisingly sounded genuine, though to be fair he had been sucking up to you the last couple days clearly something clicked in his mind that you where the one who controlled wether he actually had a job or not. that or there was something else motivating him either way his change in attitude didn’t sit right with you, something was off and you could sense it.

“Barclay” was all padme said to greet him not even bothering to turn in his direction to acknowledge him properly. you had to stifle a laugh, god you loved her. she kept her head high and walked right past him, she would be leaving through the gardens so no one knew she was there. the meeting was to be kept secret from everyone aside from the respective royal families.

with a sigh you nodded towards Barclay to signify you where ready. you both walked down the hallways heading to the main foyer, with each step you took you felt as if you where being pulled down. finding it harder and harder to move forward the closer you got. these where your last moments to breath without someone beside you- metaphorically of course, after all as a royal there’s always someone at least five steps from you which was tiring to say the least.

you could swear time was simultaneously moving faster then light and slower then molasses as you watched Barclay nod to the guards to open the doors that stand as the only barrier between you and the one you are to wed. it was hard to breath? but just as quick as the breath got stuck in you it was knocked right out as one of the guards rose there voice impossibly loud to announce your arrival.

“now presenting her Majesty, the Crown Princess Y/n Organa” it honestly made your ears ring but at the very least it served as a nice reminder of where you are and pulled you back down to earth. still it all felt a bit excessive to you considering there was only four people here excluding the guards.

Walking further in so that you and Barclay where now face to face with the two men, you scanned over them quickly. they both where good looking you had to admit, what threw you off though was how drastically different they where dressed from each other. for a moment you almost thought they came from two different places but quickly brushed that off knowing good and well that wasn’t the case.

“hel-“ just as you began to greet the two men you are quickly cut off by a third party you hadn’t even noticed was there. Chancellor Valorum. “greetings you are?” he said and you paused turning to see him standing behind you, how long had he been there? no one else seemed shocked so he must of been there for quite some time you concluded. but why was he there? deciding to act like you had known he was there you turn back to the two men. to your surprise the older looking one of the two directed his attention to you and not Valorum. it brought a small smile to your face, feeling like it was a nice change of pace finally be acknowledged instead of looked over.

“I am Prince Obi-Wan first born son of the Kingdom Tatooine. and this” he gestured to the pretty blonde beside him who could easily tower over you if he was close enough. “is my brother Anakin” he finished and you felt a little giddy, so far so good right? he was tall and handsome you could only hope he was kind and had a personality as good as he looked. though to your dismay the aforementioned man hadn’t even spared you a glance, thinking on it he hadn’t looked at you even when you first entered the room. that fact made your stomach twist.

“neither of your parents are joining us?” the chancellor spoke again before you could get a word in, honestly he was one more sentence away from you clocking him in the face. but you hold your breath and maintain your composure. this time Obi-Wan does acknowledge him but only to answer his question and you were guessing to not seem rude. “unfortunately our mother and father are quite busy but as the future king they deemed it enough for me to go with my brother for this” you felt like a child who could do nothing but watch as the grown ups speak as you look back and forth from the chancellor and him.

Thankfully Obi-Wan was quick to redirect his attention to you. “your highness shall we discuss matters more privately?” why couldn’t conversation with people of power always go this way, taking to you instead of over you. you give him a polite smile before answering. “yes let’s move this elsewhere” you say with a nod. “lead the way.” was all he said in turn.

as you all walk down the halls of the castle you can’t help but notice how quiet prince Anakin was. it worried you, was he always this quiet or was he choosing not to say anything. did he already hate you- to be fair if he did you wouldn’t blame him. if the roles where reversed and your kingdom had been basically black mailed into giving you up as marriage you’d probably hate the person you thought responsable as well. you found yourself actually wishing you two where alone so you could explain yourself and hope he could understand. Then again who’d say he’d believe you, it was worth a try though wasn’t it?

unsurprisingly throughout most of the meeting chancellor Valorum spoke for you any chance he could. and just as in the foyer Obi-Wan directed his answers to you. time dragged as you guys finished up flushing out the details of the agreement more thoroughly. it was all so casual and you couldn’t help but feel sick especially with Anakin sitting right there not saying a word. you couldn’t even get a read on his emotions his face was a blank slate. it made you anxious and you weren’t sure if you wanted to just hurry up and get all of this over already or drag it out longer so you could procrastinate the inevitable.

it was evident just how long the meeting had taken when you were met with the setting sun as you looked out the window. a panic ran through you when you realized you had no time at all to talk Anakin now and the next time you’d see him would be the day of the wedding. you where now truly going into this marriage blind- not that you would of learned much about him today regardless but anything would be better than nothing.

closing up the meeting with a handshake between the chancellor and Obi-Wan, even though he had clearly held his hand out for you- you all stand up and head out of the meeting room.

Anakin had still yet to say a word, Obi-Wan being the one to speak on both there behalf’s when saying goodbye. even as they walked away you watched as he didn’t even speak to his brother, maybe he was mad and his silence was the politest protest he could do. you could only hope your whole marriage wouldn’t be like this, what an awkward life that would be. though maybe you’d get used to it at some point.

all of these thoughts swimming in your head stopped as a pair of blue eyes met yours, it was brief and for a second you thought you’d imagined it. he had look back at you right before the castle doors closed.

that’s all you had to go off of until you would meet again for the wedding day.

part 4

okay guys the next chapter will feature a lot more Anakin and yes the pretty boy will speak 🥰 this took me forever to finish 😀 mainly because i’ve been writing this in between doing work 👩‍🦯👩‍🦯 anyways i hope you all like this chapter i know it was a lot more emotional then the others but reader is going through a lot at once 😭 side note i love reading your reply’s you guys are funny and real asf🤭 that’s all i have to say for now enjoy huns Xx<3

tag list: @luvvfromme @gatekeepingirlboss

[jainiss]

hello!

bringing reactions of zoro, luffy, robin, nami and sanji, from one piece, when someone flirts with yn (who they have a crush on).

Hope you guys like it ~~

Ps: forgive me if there are english mistakes. English is not my native language.

Ps2: these are guesses at what I think it would be. all fictional.

Zoro watched from a distance as you engaged in a friendly conversation with a newcomer to the crew. He couldn't help but feel a strange pang of jealousy deep within him. He had been silently nursing a crush on you for quite some time, but he had never found the courage to confess his feelings.

As the stranger flirted shamelessly with you, Zoro clenched his jaw and tightened his grip on his swords. His eye twitched in irritation, but he tried his best to hide his emotions. He wasn't one to wear his heart on his sleeve.

Sanji, who had been observing Zoro's reaction from afar, couldn't resist teasing him. "Oi, Marimo," he said with a sly grin. "Looks like someone's not too happy about the attention y/n's getting."

Zoro shot Sanji a deathly glare, but the cook just chuckled. "You know," Sanji continued, "if you don't make a move soon, someone else might snatch them away."

Zoro's mind raced as he considered Sanji's words. He couldn't let that happen. With a determined expression, he excused himself from his spot and made his way over to where you and the flirtatious crew member were chatting.

You noticed Zoro's approach and smiled warmly. "Hey, Zoro, this is our new crewmate, Luka. They've got some incredible stories to share!"

Zoro nodded at Luka but couldn't hide the hint of possessiveness in his voice. "Nice to meet you," he grumbled.

Luka raised an eyebrow, sensing the tension. "Is there something you want to say, Zoro?"

Before Zoro could respond, you intervened with a playful tone. "Oh, Zoro's just being protective. He's like our resident guardian."

Zoro relaxed slightly at your words, realizing that maybe, just maybe, there was a chance for him after all.

As the day went on, Zoro found himself more involved in conversations with you, determined to show his interest. And perhaps, in time, he would gather the courage to confess his feelings, putting an end to the jealousy that had been gnawing at him.

---

Luffy watched from a distance as you laughed at a joke made by a stranger they had just met on the island. His fists clenched involuntarily, and a storm of emotions swirled within him. He didn't quite understand what he was feeling, but it was unsettling.

As the stranger continued to chat with you, Luffy couldn't help but feel jealousy. He had never experienced this before; it was as if a fiery dragon had awakened inside him. He knew he had a crush on you, but now it was painfully evident that he didn't want anyone else near you.

Without thinking, Luffy stormed over to where you were. His brow furrowed, and his voice was oddly serious as he said, "Hey, y/n, we've got some important pirate stuff to discuss. Can we go somewhere else?"

You looked surprised at the sudden interruption, but you nodded and excused yourself from the stranger. As you walked away with Luffy, you asked, "What's going on, Luffy?"

Luffy scratched his head, trying to find the right words. "I... uh... don't like seeing you flirt with others," he finally admitted, his cheeks turning slightly red.

You blinked in surprise, then a small smile crept onto your face. "Luffy, are you... jealous?"

Luffy's face turned even redder, and he looked away, mumbling something incoherent.

You gently placed a hand on his arm, making him look back at you. "You know, Luffy, I really like you too."

Luffy's eyes widened, and a goofy grin broke across his face. "Really?"

You nodded, your smile matching his. "Yeah, really. So you don't have to worry about anyone else flirting with me."

Luffy's heart soared, and he pulled you into a warm hug, feeling like he was on top of the world. The stranger watched in confusion, but Luffy couldn't care less. He had you, and that was all that mattered to him.

---

Robin stood nearby, discreetly observing as the crew enjoyed a rare moment of relaxation at a lively island bar. Her eyes, as sharp and perceptive as ever, couldn't help but focus on the interaction unfolding before her.

You, a fellow crew member, was engaged in a casual conversation with a charismatic local. His flattering words and charming smile were hard to ignore. Your laughter rang through the air, warm and infectious.

Unbeknownst to anyone else, Robin had been harboring a quiet affection for you. It wasn't something she readily admitted, even to herself. Her feelings had grown slowly, like a vine creeping up a wall, until you had become an integral part of her thoughts.

As the local's flirtation continued, Robin felt an unfamiliar tightness in her chest. She clenched her book, her knuckles turning white as she maintained her composure. She knew she had no right to be possessive of you, and yet, the jealousy was undeniable.

Unable to bear it any longer, Robin quietly excused herself from the group and retreated to a secluded corner of the bar. She needed a moment to collect her thoughts and quell the rising tide of emotions. Her fingertips traced the edges of the book's pages, a soothing ritual that had always helped her find solace.

Meanwhile, you, oblivious to Robin's inner turmoil, continued to converse with the local, sharing stories and laughter. It was a delightful exchange, but Robin couldn't help but feel a pang of longing. She wished she could be the one making you smile like that.

In the end, Robin knew she had to confront her feelings, even if it meant facing the possibility of heartache. She took a deep breath, composed herself, and returned to the group with a polite smile, determined to cherish the moments she could spend with you, regardless of who else might try to capture your attention.

---

Sanji couldn't believe his eyes as he watched from a distance. You, the person he secretly had a crush on for so long, was chatting and laughing with someone else. That someone else was flirting shamelessly, and it ignited a fire of jealousy within Sanji that he couldn't contain.

He clenched his fists, his brow furrowing, and a storm brewed in his eyes. He tried to play it cool, but his frustration was bubbling over. Sanji quickly walked over, his signature cigarette between his lips, and his voice was laced with irritation as he interrupted your conversation.

"Oi, what's going on here? Y/n, I need you in the kitchen for a moment," Sanji said, his tone demanding your immediate attention.

You, slightly taken aback, excused yourself from the flirtatious interloper and followed Sanji into the kitchen. Once you were out of earshot, Sanji turned to you with a mixture of concern and anger in his eyes.

"Y/n, I can't stand to see you being flirted with like that," Sanji confessed, unable to hide his feelings any longer. "I care about you, more than you can imagine."

You were surprised by Sanji's outburst but couldn't help but feel a flutter in your heart. You had your suspicions about Sanji's feelings, but hearing it so directly was a different matter entirely.

"Sanji, I didn't know you felt this way," You replied softly, a blush creeping onto your cheeks.

Sanji took a step closer, his cigarette long forgotten, and he gently cupped your face with his hand. "It's true, y/n. You mean everything to me. I can't stand the thought of anyone else getting close to you."

Yout heart skipped a beat as Sanji leaned in, your lips finally meeting in a passionate kiss. In that moment, all doubts and jealousy melted away, replaced by the warmth of your newfound connection.

From that day forward, Sanji made it clear that you were the only one who held his heart, and he was willing to protect your love at any cost.

---

Nami watched from a distance as you chatted with the stranger who had just approached you. Her normally confident demeanor wavered as she noticed the flirtatious tone in your conversation. She couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy, especially since she had been harboring a secret crush on you for quite some time.

Nami's eyes narrowed, and she clenched her fists. She muttered under her breath, "Who does that person think they are, flirting with y/n like that?" Her competitive spirit flared, and she couldn't stand idly by any longer.

With determination, Nami marched over to where you were. She cleared her throat loudly, interrupting the conversation. Both you and the stranger turned to look at her.

Nami put on her most charming smile and said, "Oh, y/n, there you are! I've been looking all over for you." She then turned her attention to the stranger, her tone sweet but filled with an underlying warning, "And who is this? A new friend?"

The stranger stuttered a response, clearly taken aback by Nami's sudden appearance and the change in atmosphere. You couldn't help but exchange a bemused glance with Nami, realizing what she was doing. She was staking her claim, asserting her presence as more than just a friend.

As the conversation continued, Nami skillfully guided it away from flirtation, seamlessly redirecting it to a more friendly and casual tone. It was clear that she wasn't about to let anyone encroach on her territory.

Later, when the stranger finally excused themselves and left, Nami turned to you with a triumphant grin. "Well, that takes care of that," she said, her voice tinged with satisfaction. "No one flirts with you while I'm around."

You chuckled, touched by Nami's protective gesture. "Thanks, Nami. You're the best."

Nami's cheeks turned a faint shade of pink as she looked away, hiding her embarrassment. "Yeah, well, don't get used to it. I just can't stand anyone trying to steal my crew mate, that's all."

And with that, Nami walked away, leaving you with a warm feeling in your heart, knowing that her jealousy had revealed just how much she cared for you.

Byebye~

© jainiss ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ