#things you to do remind yourself you are not crazy

[covenofagatha]

hey!! can you do one where you run into professor agatha at the library while doing homework and it ends with her making you sit on her cock without moving while you study and you're impatient and she ends up fucking you right there in thar secluded corner (with lots of overstimulation and daddy kink if you're comfortable with that?)

Inspiration struck for this one today so hope everyone enjoys

I just started a new semester so probably won't be posting as much but I will do my best to keep writing and putting stuff out regularly. Also will be pausing any Agathario x reader fics for the moment

Learning to focus

When you run into Professor Harkness at the local library while you're supposed to be working on a project for her history class, you find yourself distracted by her (again)

Word count: 4.3k

Warnings: public sex, GP Agatha, fingering, cockwarming, daddy kink, overstimulation, it really was agatha all along, slight humiliation?, hints of degradation

The Westview University campus library is always packed, so you usually opt for the local library about twenty minutes away from the school. 

Much quieter and way less crowded. 

And you don’t have to worry about running into any failed situationships or crazy roommates from past years. 

Plus it’s a really nice library, two stories with long glass windows stretching from the ceiling to the floor. Even when you don’t have school work, you often enjoy coming here just to read or play on your computer. It’s a peaceful place, a place that lets you just relax and forget about the outside world and all the stress you feel. 

Stress mainly from one class. Your history class. 

Professor Agatha Harkness was the only one who taught U.S. History when your schedule could allow it, which meant you had to ignore all the bad reviews on RateMyProfessor.com, because you had no other option. 

On the first day, you could see exactly where they came from. 

One boy had shown up five minutes late, practically a miracle on the first day of classes, stammering an excuse about how bad traffic was, Professor Harkness had fixed him with a glare and told him that he better drop the class. 

You were just thankful that you had a class before hers, otherwise you would’ve been late, too. 

She was just as mean and ruthless and cold as everyone said she’d be. Her assignments were almost outrageous and she graded them so harshly it was honestly impressive you weren’t failing yet. 

But the one thing the reviews forgot to mention was how attractive she is. Her long, dark hair that she’d often keep back in a ponytail. Her sharp blue eyes that reminded you of the ocean on a dark night. Her high cheekbones, her pointed nose, her wicked smirk, honestly, everything about her. 

You suppose the more impressive thing is that you aren’t failing with how often you get distracted by the way her fingers on her left hand tighten around the dry-erase marker when she’s drawing time-lines on the board. When she sways her hips and flexes her knuckles which tightens her veins, you feel a tugging in your gut and you have to bite your lip. 

And you definitely should not be noticing the bulge in her pants when she sits back with her legs spread in her chair while the class is taking an exam. 

You have an optimal seat, all the way to the right of her desk and in the front row, so you can take her in without her noticing you too much. 

If anyone looked too closely at you, they’d assume you were sweating because of the forty-five multiple choice and five written questions you had to answer in only a little over an hour. 

That wasn’t it. 

You swore she saw you looking one time, one particular day when she was wearing a blue flannel and loose fitting cargo pants. You were staring, so completely distracted when you should’ve been taking notes that you didn’t even notice she had dismissed the class. 

It wasn’t until you finally realized that she was stalking toward you that you had fucked up. You had swallowed roughly and moved to shove your stuff into your bag when she had put her hands on your desk and leaned in, causing you to completely forget how to breathe. 

“You seemed a little preoccupied there,” she murmured in a low voice, her hint of cologne tickling your nose. “Try to pay better attention next time. Don’t want to have to teach you a lesson.”

You had promptly nodded and almost ran to your dorm to fuck yourself to the thought of her teaching you a very different kind of lesson. 

Professor Harkness is in your head, and you can’t get her out no matter how hard you try. Except right now, you really need to focus, because the end-of-semester project is due in a week and you haven’t started. 

Did she give you the entire four months of the course to complete it? Yes. But you have never been good at working ahead or at time management. 

She had assigned a ten page paper along with a hand-drawn timeline about something that had happened in the history of the United States. You had picked the Salem Witch Trials, and Professor Harkness had winked when you got the topic approved by her. 

So you’re about to spend the next probably five hours in the library trying to make some headway on this project. The timeline should be easy, but it’s the paper you’re worried about. 

You go up the stairs and wind through the aisles of books on the second floor until you get to your secluded corner, the one you always go to, the one with a small table and two chairs hidden by bookshelves and gasp. 

Your favorite spot has been taken by none other than Professor Harkness. She’s sitting in the chair you usually sit in, pen between her teeth, staring at papers. 

When she looks up, she doesn’t even seem surprised to see you and a slow grin spreads over her face. 

“Professor, what are you doing here?” You ask, fiddling with the straps on your tote bag. Should you go somewhere else?

She chuckles. “In a public library in the town where I live?” 

Your cheeks burn. “Right. Um, I’ve just never seen you here before.” And then you inwardly kick yourself because now it sounds like you’ve been on the lookout. 

“Wanted to get out of the house,” she shrugs. “Have some papers to grade for that project due next week. How’s yours coming?” 

“Oh, really good,” you lie, shifting your weight and trying to think of a quick way to get out of this conversation. “Almost done. Well, I don’t want to bother–” 

She interrupts you by sliding the chair out next to her and patting it. “Why don’t you come show me what you have? I can give you some help, free of charge.” She winks, a glint in her eyes, and it makes your stomach twist. 

“Oh, Professor, that’s not necessary,” you say nervously but she tsks and waves dismissively. 

“Please, call me Agatha. It’s the weekend and we’re off campus. Now, come sit.” She makes it clear it’s an order and you gulp before taking the seat. Even being this close to her is affecting your body and you know there’s absolutely no way you’re getting anything done. 

She’s currently grading a paper about the Boston Massacre and it’s drenched in red ink. You’re not sure which you feel more of: annoyance at your over-achieving classmates or absolute dread for how Agatha is going to react when she finds out that you haven’t even started and, even worse, lied about it. 

You take a shaky breath, feeling her intense gaze on you. “So, the thing is…” You trail off, reaching down to pull out your laptop. You set it on the table and slowly open it, silently begging for the floor underneath you to open up and swallow you whole. 

Anything would be better than this humiliation. 

“Yeah?” Agatha breathes, suddenly much closer to you. You will your eyes to not look away from the computer screen and type in your password, praying that you didn’t leave anything that embarrassing up. 

It opens up to the blank document titled Salem Witch Trials, just so it’s clear to Agatha what exactly this page was supposed to be. 

You’d rather it have been porn. 

Your professor chuckles slowly next to you. “Thought you were almost done?” She simpers in that gruff voice that drives you wild. “Did you get distracted again?” 

Agatha leans forwards, resting her elbow on the table, and perching her head in her hand so she can peer at you. Your eyes glance over to meet hers and then back to your computer, but in your peripheral vision, you can see her body tilt toward yours and her legs open just the slightest. 

Your mouth runs dry and you make a pointed effort not to look between them. 

“What’s gotten you so preoccupied, babygirl?” She asks and you clench around nothing at the shift in tone and the pet name. Holy fuck. “I’ve seen you staring in class, you know. You’re not very subtle at all.” 

Forget being swallowed by the floor, you might just combust out of pure embarrassment. 

You try to stammer out something, an apology maybe, sorry for wanting to fuck you, Professor, but no sounds come out of your mouth. Her other hand comes up and teases a lock of your hair and you finally work up the courage to look at her. 

Agatha’s eyes are heated and dark, all the blue practically gone, and her lips are parted just so. And then you flick your eyes down to between her legs involuntarily and you have to bite back a whimper because she’s fucking hard. 

You can see her length through her navy pants and your brain short-circuits. Agatha likes this. Agatha likes you. 

“Is that what gets you all hot and bothered? Can’t focus because you’re too busy staring at me?” Agatha asks, hand dropping to palm herself. She gives her dick a quick stroke and lets out a tight sigh and you have to hold onto the table to steady yourself. 

Heat rushes through your body in an almost unbearable way. “Yes,” you whisper hoarsely. 

Agatha takes her hand off herself and taps a finger to her lips. “Hmm,” she draws out thoughtfully. You can feel a puddle growing in your underwear. “You know, I’m used to the crushes. Doesn’t even phase me anymore, usually it’s college girls who are just so desperate for attention. Not getting it anywhere else and they think that their fifty year old professor will be into them.” 

Your jaw clenches. Is this the part where she rejects you? 

But Agatha smirks and looks you up and down, takes in your squirming body in the chair. “And I never have even considered it. Until you. None of them have been as delicious as you, pet.” 

And it makes your head spin. It’s almost as if you’re in a trance when your hand grabs onto her thigh and Agatha lets out a low moan. 

“Please,” you say, desperation in your voice. What are you asking for? You don’t even think you know. 

Agatha tuts. “Do you really think you deserve anything? This paper is due in a week and you haven’t even started. Doesn’t seem like you should get a reward for procrastinating, does it?” 

“It’s not my fault,” you whine before you can even think about it. There’s something about this side of Agatha specifically that makes your mind turn to mush. 

She raises an eyebrow like she’s daring you to say that again. “I think you need to learn how to keep that pretty head of yours focused.” She nods to the computer screen. “Make an outline.”

You swallow roughly and straighten up, putting your hands on the keyboard. You’ve just switched tabs and begun googling “Salem Witch Trials” when Agatha’s hand lands on your upper thigh. 

You freeze and glance at her out of the corner of your eye to find her scribbling another note on the paper in front of her. You don’t know how she’s so calm and collected when you feel like your entire body is on fire. 

“Focus,” she tells you in that deep voice of hers and you click on the first result that comes up as her fingers begin to toy with the hem of your skirt. 

You try, you really do try, but it’s so fucking hard to read the words on the screen when she’s inching closer and closer to your underwear, which you can feel is absolutely drenched. 

And soon enough, she’s going to feel it, too. You can almost hear her dark laugh already when she realizes just how affected you are. 

Her fingertips brush against you and instead of laughing, she gasps. “Oh, pet, no wonder you never pay attention in class,” she coos and a thrill runs through you despite how embarrassed you are. She effortlessly finds your clit through the fabric and rubs it and you have to sink your teeth into your bottom lip so you don’t make a sound. 

“Agatha,” you say under your breath and you can practically hear her smirking. Why is it so hot that she is still grading the paper as she starts to run her fingers up and down your pussy over your underwear? She dips in at your entrance and a muffled groan tears itself out of your mouth. 

“Is this what you’re like while I’m teaching, too?” She muses conversationally, but you look down just in time to see her cock twitch in her pants. It makes you feel even more exhilarated, knowing she’s just as affected. But then she moves your panties to the side and slides her fingers through your folds and you forget any train of thought you had. You really hope your wetness isn’t as loud as it sounds. “Dripping for me like a little slut? Getting yourself all worked up when I’m talking about the Declaration of Independence? It’s pathetic.” 

You whimper, maybe in agreement, maybe at how good it feels when she pushes a finger into you, but her eyes slightly glaze over at the feeling of your warm walls around her. 

“God, Agatha,” you moan, your own hand coming down to wrap around her wrist when she starts moving. You can feel her flexing with each thrust and your tongue presses against your cheek as you breathe heavily, leaning toward her. 

She presses a quick kiss to your head and scrapes her teeth against your ear before hotly whispering, “Better be quiet, babygirl. And focus. Or I’ll stop.”

You manage to type out three bullet points worth of information when she slips another finger into you and you clamp a hand over your mouth before you moan obscenely. 

Agatha leans over to read what you have so far. “Who was the first woman to be executed for witchcraft?” She asks and you realize that you never finished that sentence. 

“Bridget Bishop,” you gasp, and she swipes at your clit as a reward, sending a jolt of pleasure up your spine. 

You continue to type, hoping it’s making sense because you can’t even comprehend the words, while Agatha continues to twist her fingers inside you roughly and rub your clit. You can feel your orgasm slowly building, and it only makes it worse every time Agatha hums right into your ear at something you’ve written. Your walls are clenching around her, trying to draw her even further into you, and she can tell you’re getting close, you’re going to cum so quickly around her fingers. 

“There we go pet, such a good girl for Daddy,” she says into your ear and you spasm all around her, the name sending you right over the edge. 

Who knew you’d like that so much? 

Apparently Agatha did, who grins like a cat getting her cream as she fucks you through your orgasm with her fingers, keeping a steady rhythm on your clit. You taste blood from biting your lip so hard but you manage to keep quiet and you finally come down from your high. 

But it’s not enough, you need more, and judging by the straining of Agatha’s cock against her pants, she needs more, too. 

You move to touch her but she slaps your hand away. “Not yet,” she growls and it sends another blast of heat through you. You think there might be a wet spot on the chair underneath you. 

It only makes it worse when she reaches down and undoes her own belt, fiddles with the button exasperatedly, and finally unzips her pants. She reaches inside and your jaw drops open when she pulls out her hard and leaking cock. It’s big, big enough to make your mouth water, and it almost looks painful. Agatha gives herself a few strokes, hips jumping, and she hisses when she rubs her thumb over the tip. 

“Think you can focus while you sit on Daddy’s cock, babygirl?” She taunts. You’ve never felt so empty in your life, you need her so bad, and she’s right there. 

You almost want to bend down and take her into your mouth, taste her hard cock. 

“I asked you a question,” she reminds you roughly, slapping your thigh to get your attention. The sting makes you jump. “God, you really do get distracted easily.” 

You mumble an apology, cheeks flushing. “I can focus, I promise,” you say, trying to sound convincing, but neither of you believe it. Regardless, she smirks and pats her legs and you do a cautious sweep of the surrounding area. This is incredibly dangerous and if you get caught, you both will get in serious trouble. 

But for some reason, the thrill of getting caught only turns you on more. 

So you stand up and straddle her and sit down, taking her cock in one fell swoop. She goes in easy with how wet you are and you bottom out in her lap, the both of you groaning quietly with restraint. 

“Fuck, babygirl,” you hear Agatha huff and you squeeze your walls around her in response. It makes her thrust up and you inhale sharply at the feeling. She is so big and you can feel her throbbing inside you. “Better keep working.” 

You lean forward slowly to move your laptop closer, the stretch absolutely delicious and she chuckles when you gasp as you settle back onto her. Agatha wraps her arms around your waist and you really do try to be good and focus, but every so often, she shifts beneath you and it hits that spot so deep inside you and you can’t help but squirm to try and get more. 

Would she notice if you slowly start moving? Most likely, but it’s worth the risk. You give the gentlest roll of your hips and Agatha moans low into your ear before her fingernails dig into your hips through your skirt to still you. “Don’t even think about it,” she whispers dangerously so you’re forced to sit without moving on her cock that is filling you up better than anything ever has before. 

It’s sweet torture and you write a few more sentences before you can feel your wetness dripping down her cock and out of you. Every so often, you’ll clench around her, too, completely involuntarily, of course, and she’ll buck into you like she can’t help it while breathing suddenly. You’re not sure how much longer of this you can take, the ache spreading everywhere in your body and absolutely ruining you. 

“Agatha,” you whine again, begging, starting to move despite her death-like grip on your waist. 

She moves your hair to the side and nips at your neck. “Yes, babygirl?” 

“Can you please–” you begin, frustration leaking into your voice, tears pricking in your eyes. “Can you please move? Please, I need it so bad. I’m trying so hard to focus, please, can you fuck me? Daddy–”

Turns out, all you needed to convince her was to call her that, because she finally breaks and starts thrusting her hips up and pounding her cock into you. Your hand flies over your mouth and you bite onto a finger to stop yourself from crying out and you wish you weren’t in a library right now, rather be in the comfort of Agatha’s bed or car or office or anywhere but here, so you could be as loud as you want. 

“Let’s see if you’re still distracted after Daddy fucks all the thoughts out of your head,” she snaps and fuck, you’re already so close after cockwarming her for those few minutes. She reaches around you with a hand to circle your clit, which is already sensitive from your previous orgasm and a muffled sound escapes you. Agatha laughs breathlessly and you strain your ears to hear if anyone is coming near you – not that you could do anything about it now – but there’s nothing. 

Thank god this is a relatively empty library, especially at this time of the day, and that the two of you are tucked away in the back where it’s hard to see normally. 

Agatha’s thrusts are getting so powerful that you’re forced to put your hands out on the table for balance which means it gets a lot harder to control your noises. But your professor, ever the problem-solver, comes up with a solution. 

She slides two fingers into your mouth so you can suck on them and so your moans are stifled. Agatha presses her fingers against your tongue, scrapes her nails against it, and draws them out before shoving them back in, effectively fucking both your mouth and your pussy. 

“You feel so good, babygirl, so fucking tight,” she pants into your ear and you gag when she pushes her fingers down your throat. 

It’s so much, so much stimulation from her cock and her fingers and the fact that you’re being fucked in a public library where anyone could see that your orgasm hits you out of nowhere and it’s explosive. You sink your teeth into her skin and she moans, almost being louder before she remembers to control herself. 

You need a moment to collect yourself, but she doesn’t give it to you; instead, she shoves you off her lap and stands up right behind you without her cock ever leaving your body. 

Agatha bends you over the table, hand pressing against your back, and you have just enough awareness to move your laptop out of the way before she sets a bruising pace. The table must be bolted down to the floor or something, because it thankfully doesn’t move. 

Agatha grunts softly with each thrust and you can feel her twitching inside you even though it feels like every single one of your nerves is on fire. 

“Daddy, I don’t know if I can again,” you quietly sob, the pleasure fraying your mind, the sensitivity of your clit making you gasp when she rubs it. You feel like you’re drifting away from your body, dizziness swarming your head. “Too much,” you babble. 

But she doesn’t slow down. If anything, she picks up her speed and tears fall from your eyes. “You can, babygirl, I know you can. You can take it – fuck, you feel so good around me.” 

Agatha losing her composure because of you, just knowing you have that kind of affect on someone usually so cold and unaffected, is starting to build your orgasm back up. 

“Daddy,” you whine, trying to be as quiet as you can. Her rhythm is starting to falter, she’s throbbing and twitching and cursing, fingers scrambling for purchase on your hips, and you know she’s getting close. 

“So perfect, babygirl,” she mutters and you know she’s refraining from being louder, too. “I’ve wanted you for so long, ever since the first day when you walked into my classroom wearing that short skirt.” 

The confession makes you clench and a gasp escapes your lips. You’re climbing closer and closer to the edge and Agatha isn’t far behind. 

“Knew I had to have you,” she keeps going and your body is practically vibrating. 

She’s pounding into you so deep, filling you so good, her cock dragging against your walls in the best way. Her ragged words are getting to her, too; you can tell in the way her thrusts become shallower and shorter like she can’t do anything more. 

You’d make a quip about her being distracted but you can’t form a sentence right now. Every thought in your head is gone. 

“Daddy knows you come here,” she continues and your eyes roll back into your head. You don’t even think you can understand her. You’re close, so close. “Knew you hadn’t started on the project. Knew you’d be here – fuck, babygirl.” She breaks off with a sharp inhale as you squeeze around her at her words. 

This whole thing was planned. She’s wanted you just as badly as you’ve wanted her. And now she’s fucking you against a table in a library because of it. 

She reaches around and rubs your clit and that’s it. 

You cum all over her cock, walls convulsing around her, and she quickly follows, pumping her cum into you. You feel her warmth spreading through you and it makes you gasp. 

Thankfully she pulls out because you truly can’t take anymore and she slides your underwear back into place before her cum can drip down your legs. She turns you around after zipping her pants back up and tucks a piece of hair behind your ear. 

“You okay?” She murmurs and you weakly nod. “Is that pretty head of yours clear now? Think you can focus?” 

The question makes you laugh. There are no thoughts left in your head whatsoever. “You do know that I’m only going to be thinking about this in your classes right? You just made the problem ten times worse.” 

Agatha smirks and taps under your chin. “Tell you what, pet. For each day early you turn this project in, that’s one more reward you’ll get.” 

And even though you’re completely worn out, your clit pulses at the thought of more. 

“Think you’ll be able to focus now?” Agatha asks sweetly. You nod eagerly, your brain suddenly able to piece together how you’re going to structure your paragraphs, and she chuckles. “It’s all about finding the right motivation. I look forward to seeing your final project.” She winks, packs up her stuff, and then walks away. 

You sit down in the chair, making a mental note to clean that and the table before you leave, and open your laptop back up. 

Cracking your knuckles, you get to work, suddenly able to focus so much better now. 

[agnireed]

Rainfall

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

word count 🏹 9.8k

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

thank you to @sparklytyphoondaze for the suggested prompt!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

----

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

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

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

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

[tanadrin]

I am sorry for the anon but I feel too vulnerable to come off due to the nature of my question.

I am slowly losing friends due to my refusal to engage in negative/nihilistic/doomer views of the future. My friends are 1000% convinced Trump and Republicans are going to crash the economy on purpose, leading to a depression, and carry out a Gilead situation. I told one of my friends the other day how, despite everything and the political situation, I am trying to be as positive as possible - or at least neutral. Her response to me was, "Why? I don't understand your optimism. You know they're going to enslave us all like in The Handmaid's Tale, right?" and it has become so dreadful now to interact with them. Anytime I disagree, they try to intellectually dominate me or put me under them in a way where I have no choice but to just leave the conversation.

I know this was a lot. But is there any advice you might have for someone like me? Because I sometimes feel like I am being painted as crazy. I know things will be hard but they genuinely want me to believe I have no future and I can't stand that.

Also, would it be too much to ask if you maybe mind sharing some of the other people/blogs you follow?

I once heard advice on dealing with Qanon family members who had fallen down the rabbit hole and only ever wanted to talk about conspiracy theories or the outrage bait they'd seen on Fox News or OANN or whatever, about not challenging them on their views but basically saying "I don't want to talk about this; let's talk about our plans for the weekend, or what movie we wanna go see later, or what interesting books you've read lately." The idea being, arguing with someone can only further entrench their beliefs, and if you really want to shake someone out of their dismal universe of conspiracism, it helps to remind them of all the things that aren't the fear-and-anger-activating content they're stuffing their brains with for hours every day.

Maybe something like this could help? I have a hard time imagining that someone really believes The Handmaid's Tale really is just around the corner--if you really believed that, surely you would be trying to flee to Canada or doing some political volunteer work or something--and sometimes doomer stuff can be kind of reflexive or phatic, like making a crack about how your retirement plan is to die in the water wars or something. But even if it isn't, I don't think there's any point in trying to argue about this stuff in the moment. Instead try to build on the things you still find fulfilling in that friendship, the conversations and interests and activities with those friends that caused you to become friends in the first place.

If you can't do that--if hanging out with them is always a constant grind of full-throttle doomerism, and they express no interest in actually trying to do something with their feelings of anger and frustration--you are perfectly within your rights to spend less time around them. You could, if you wanted to and you felt that you owed them at least that, give them a heads up as to why. If a close friend of mine or a family member was doing this, I would certainly talk to them about it. But your obligation to subject yourself to someone else's self-destructive idee fixe is not bottomless. Even with a partner you are within your rights to eventually say "I'm not going to talk about this with you anymore."

(And that's not only true of politics or conspiracy theories, by the way! If you have a close friend or family member or partner who--for example--has severe depression but refuses to seek treatment for it, you are not obligated to be the sponge for their misery forever every time they need someone to talk to. If someone in your life is in a relationship or a job that is making them miserable, and won't do anything to leave that relationship or find a new job, and just wants a friend to complain to, you are within your rights to eventually shut that down. Lots of people fall into a holding pattern in their life where they are unhappy but unable to do anything about it, and they will make this their friends' or loved ones' problem. That doesn't make them bad people: lord knows I have found myself doing this before. It's a very human thing to do. But sometimes the Good Friend Thing is to say "I love you, and will support you if you want to actually *do something* about your situation, but otherwise, oh my god shut the fuck up." But, you know, nicely.)

But if your friends want to make themselves miserable because hanging on to an endless stream of toxicity and doomerism from social media (and I will bet this is primarily coming from social media) is more important to them than your friendship, and they can't handle you not agreeing with them, you may lose them as friends. If you do, I'm sorry. That sucks. It's hard to lose friends, and it's even harder later in life when making new friends is more difficult, and I don't want to pretend like that's not a big deal.

[cvnt4him]

Inexperienced izu thanks to candie

just izu who remembers over hearing not only on social media but from some of the guys that eating oysters help with the male cumshot, supposedly making it longer and more enjoyable for women! he obviously had never had a girlfriend before and wanted his partner to be happy with him. Izuku was slightly insecure of what he had, especially because he was on the short side too! Maybe he was overthinking it but he couldn't take any chances!!

The next day you'd see a complete shift in his diet, izuku always had some kind of protein based diet with tons of rice and some veggies to even it out of course but the way it seemed to strictly consist of more water cranberries celery and a ton of oysters concerned you. Izuku loves sea food by all means but too many of the same things get a little annoying, you walked over to izuku and seen him absolutely destroying the oysters and then everything else on his plate. Izu was an eater by all means but this was just crazy to you

“ izu?”

Izuku squeaked and jumped up at the sudden call of his name, nearly choking on his food as he slowly turned to face you swallowing the fuck ton of food he had in his mouth with a hard gulp.

“ oh.. uhm, hi baby! I- I mean uh.. honey...?”

Your heart couldn't help but to flutter at his nervousness, you and izuku had only been dating for about 4 months not that long but long enough to where you occasionally kiss and hold hands and just want to be around each other more. Izuku was your first boyfriend just as you were his first as well, you were easily as excited as he was if not more. Or so you thought...

You mean down and kiss his forehead ruffling his hair as you take a seat beside him making him blush, red crawling up his neck and completely covering his freckled face. He gave you a nervous smile as he scratched the back on his neck looking away from you.

“ don't feel forced to call me any pet names if you're not comfortable with it, izu.”

He hummed fiddling with his fingers. It's not that he didn't want to call you them, it's more than he wasn't sure which one. He feared that maybe if he called you the wrong one you'd cringe and die! You'd break up with him immediately and tell everyone he was lame! Of course you would, why would you even want to be with someone like him anyways..

“ what's with the sudden diet change zuzu?”

A ton of thoughts started taking over izukus mins, making him feel kind of bad about himself reminding him why he was even doing this to begin with. The question you asked him had him holding back to reality with wide eyes and an even more flushed expression, he was stuttering and his vocal range was rising hands moving all about as he came up with some sort of excuse.

“...uh..huh, so I have to go but uhm... maybe text me?”

You excused yourself figuring if he wanted to tell you he would. Not thinking much of it as you left, however izuku was beating himself up the entire time. You were probably so embarrassed to be his girlfriend, he was embarrassed. He couldn't even tell his girlfriend that he wanted to pleasure her but was too insecure about what he has and what it wouldn't be able to do so he asked around and got advice and now he's trying to change the way he eats to ensure he gives you a good time...whenever you're ready for that step, of course.

Izuku didn't tell you what was up so you asked around, despite wanting to leave it up to him to tell you, you were nervous. This is your first time having a boyfriend and normally izuku is quite open with you so of course the sudden change startled you. You end up asking the girls for advice first hoping they can give you just a little foresight in the situation.

“ so what's the problem?”

Mina asks you, changing out of her training uniform.

“ he just.. it's nothing too big I suppose, maybe I shouldn't even be all that worried.”

You think about it more, maybe it's not that big of a deal anyways..

“ don't beat yourself up too much you're allowed to be worried about him!”

Ochako chimes in helping you shut out any negative thoughts, she was good at that. You smile at her and sigh.

“ he's changed his diet like...a lot, drastically even. I'm concerned he's not getting all that he needs, I guess? I mean he's normally really good with himself and the way he eats y'know so there must be a reasoning behind the sudden change, especially because all it consists of is a couple of cranberries that I can remember and a couple sticks of celery and a shit ton of oysters. And water. Like two bottles”

The girls hummed at your words, thinking together at what it could possibly be. That wasn't much of a diet anyways given most of them dieted or watched their food to help maintain their image or to help them in any way they were sure this was quite strange.

“ well, the only time I eat cranberries or drink cranberry juice is to help my pH levels, maybe that's the case for him too. I hear they also make you taste better so y'know win win”

You hum at minas words, but would it provide the same results in him that it would someone with traditionally female anatomy? It stumped you.

“ same thing for water and oysters by the way! water helps clean out your system and balance everything inside of you, regardless of gender y'know given we're made up of water and all-”

Yaoyorozu then went on a ramble sesh providing information of the human body and how certain foods help. As helpful as this was for you it didn't really help in the case of izuku, why would he need to detox in such a big way?

Mina eventually cut yaomomo off explaining a Google search she'd found.

“ hey look what I found; supposedly it's common to think oysters can help you shoot ropes out of your dong.”

The double take you did when mins gave the news had her laughing, you just sat there wide eyed as the girls broke into conversation about it, blushing laughing and giggling about different things. Was izuku trying to... Had he thought about moving forward with you in such a big way? You bit your lip at the thought, maybe that was it. It made more sense to you than anything else. You had to talk to him and fast.

You ran to izukus room as fast as you could once the day was over and you were finished studying, your main priority was finding out the truth. You couldn't help but think about it on the jog there from the library to the dorm house. You didn't know how to feel about it, it's normal to want to move forward with your partner especially if you've been together for a while and haven't done anything, that was your case.

But you hadn't been together that long so..it's not as if he was sullying your relationship with his wants and needs you knew this day would come but...were you ready for this? The think about it wasn't too long given how you'd touched yourself a couple days earlier thinking about him.

Clearly the both of you were ready for this so why the wait? Suddenly you felt better about this and almost hoped that what you found out was the reasoning behind his sudden change. Once you made it to izukus room you caught your breath and were quick to knock on his door practically beating on it. There wasn't a quick answer, it took him a moment to stutter out a breathy response.

“ huh.. i- com..coming!!”

You heard shuffling and rearranging in his bedroom before the steps came closer, he swung the door open and his facial expression was slightly annoyed and he was sweaty chest lightly heaving up and down as his beautiful green eyes were lidded a light shade of red dusting over his cheeks. His shirt was kind of wrinkled and....on backwards?

“ oh! Y/n! what- what uhm are you doing here!!”

His expression changed immediately upon seeing you, the annoyed one being replaced with nervousness. You loved how nervy he got when he seen you, and how shaky he'd get when you would stand too close to him or kiss him or hug him. He was such a cutie

“ can I uh come inside?”

“ uh- yes! yes please- I- of course! come in!”

,“ thanks baby”

You walked past him and sat your bag down on the floor in front of his bed, fixing your skirt over your thighs as you waited for him to sit next to you. After studying you'd ran straight to his dorm and didn't get the time to change, unlike izuku who was in his adorable little set up. You couldn't help but to giggle at his backwards bed shirt and shorts as he sat next to you he got quite a blushed look at the sound of you giggling.

You lift a hand and cup his cheek kissing his nose with a smile causing him to literally melt in your hand, his face leaning into the warmth of your palm as his lids droop over his eyes, you could almost see hearts in them. He sighed through his nose and moved forward to kiss yours leaning his forehead against yours with a giggle that you gave back.

“ y'know your shirts on backwards my love.”

You whisper to him with your eyes closed and a gentle tone, you hear a little gasp come from him but he didn't move away just a mumble leaving him. You couldn't help but to giggle lowly at your boyfriend's cuteness.

“ I have something to ask you. I would appreciate if you told me the truth.”

That scared izuku to be completely honest. Why would you say something like this all of the sudden, you two were having such a cute moment and you randomly said that during it. He was frightened. Maybe you finally decided to get rid of him, he figured it was only a matter of time. He didn't want to jump to conclusions but what else could it be. You were absolutely perfect in his eyes, it was only a matter of time before you found someone equally as perfect. Maybe shoto, he'd really handsome and looks like he could be a model. Or maybe katsuki, he'd furiously attractive as well, or maybe-

“ did you change your diet because you heard it'll help you with sex..?”

You whispered lowly to him kind of embarrassed that you were even asking. Izuku squeaked out a pitchy "huh?!" at your question. That was NOT what he thought you were going to say let alone ask. But yes, that was indeed why he changed the way he ate. He wanted to be better for you in case you decided that you were ready. But he couldn't tell you that, oh no, he couldn't even move. He had moved away from you and simply looked at you with wide eyes and a crazy blush taking over his features. He was speechless.

“ I...just overheard that some of the things you were eating and the way you were drinking tons of water supposedly helps with....uhm rather intimate acts..?”

He was shaking literally speechless and shaking. You could hear the shakyness in his stuttering which is surprising. He didn't know what to do let alone say to you, he was so embarrassed that you'd found out. You probably think he's such a loser now..

“ ...if..if you wanted to do something like that. I wouldn't be opposed.”

If his already widened eyes could get any more wide they would. You literally seen the way they wanted to pop out of his head, it honestly made you laugh.

“ izuku calm down hun! you're so red and you look like your eyes are gonna pop out of your head!”

“ i- I just-...”

He covered his face with his hands whinging beneath them and falling into your arms, you laugh out awing at him rubbing his back as he whined into the crook of your neck, he was so embarrassed that not only had you caught on but you wanted to stay with him and you wanted to do more with him. He really felt like he could die.

“ why is your shirt on backwards, honey”

You coo down to him with laughter laced in your voice, he whines once more peeking up to look at you in your eyes before averting eye contact. His brows furrowed in embarrassment you could see the blush taking over his features, he trusted you a lot and he wanted you to know that. Maybe if he told you the truth then....

“ ....I was...”

He mumbled the rest to the point it was unheard by you. You hum brushing your finger over his forehead removing some hair from in front of his eyes making him get even more flustered as if that were even possible.

“ ...you know...”

Literally nothing came to your mind when he said that, definitely not what he said next.

“ I was.. masturbating....”

He said it lowly expecting not to be heard once again however you heard him all too well. It was your turn for your eyes to widen. You were shocked to say the least, it's not that you didn't expect izuku to...indulge. you just didn't think you would catch him in the act.

Given your lack of response he felt a rush of shame, he was so embarrassed that he told you. You must've thought he was a disgusting slob who lusts after himself like some....creep! To his surprise you continued taking your fingers through his hair and even placed a kiss on top of his head making him lift up to look at you with slightly glassy eyes.

“ is that so, my love.”

You spoke softly in attempts to calm him down, you figured he felt somewhat ashamed of himself given his lack of response. He was prone to getting in his feelings when things went south. However in izukus eyes the way you spoke to him was so sultry and seductive, the way you cooed to him and looked down at him with love in your eyes despite what he does.

“ ...b- but it was only to see if anything had changed! y'know because..I changed the way I ate to...to..”

“ so I was right!”

Izuku hums in embarrassment laying his cheek on your chest. You pull his head up to kiss his lips, he absolutely melts in your arms rough lips meeting with your soft ones in a sweet and gentle dismay. You were so soft with him and so patient too, he couldn't help but to want more given you'd interrupted his....activities that he normally indulges in after class is out of when he has time.

He climbed on top of you and laid you down on his pillows letting one of his knee find it's way in between your legs and his hands on your sides just sitting there not daring to move any further without your authorization.

The kiss grew sloppier more full of need from both ends, you heard a groan leave him as he felt you slightly grind down on to his knee, he broke away from your lips momentarily to catch a breath, it fanning over your face before he experimentally shoved his tongue in your mouth it was only to test the waters, he never expected you to moan into the kiss making his already hardened cock twitch against your thigh his breath hitched at the unexpected movement from his member the kiss broke and he didn't want to look at you.

He was red from embarrassment and being heavily turned on, he wanted you but didn't want to push your boundaries. He bit his bottom lip and exhaled shakily. To his surprise you flipped him over and was now on top of him rubbing his chest with your hands, he looked up at you with his wide green eyes izuku was ready for whatever you wanted as long as you wanted it with him.

You ground your hips into his slowly to see his reaction and to your surprise his head slowly rolled back along with his eyes earning a deep gasp, his hands immediately rushing to your hood and gently squeezing. He tried to raise his hips into your head as you continued grinding over for you to stop with a laugh. he sighed quickly, extremely upset at the stop of movement.

“ ..baby....please?”

So whiney. He was such a sweet thing, you figured he deserved it. why not make your first time truly memorable?

[pdriesta]

CHAPTER THREE

"baby, i'm talkin' crazy, i need you right in my space"

pairing — trentxblack!r&b artist

tropes — fake dating, enemies-to-lovers

warnings — sexual tension, toxic relationships, mature themes (minors dni)

word count — 9k

summary — y/n, a rising r&b star, is stuck in toxic situationships, with tabloids constantly overshadowing her music. to fix her image, her team pushes her into a fake relationship with liverpool’s trent alexander-arnold. both reluctant, they soon realize keeping things strictly business isn't so simple. will pretending to be in love stay a game, or turn into something real?

an — when i tell you i write this so quick

masterlist

trent stirred awake to the faint sound of humming, a soft, melodic tune that drifted through the quiet hotel room. the sunlight hadn’t yet fully risen, the early morning casting a hazy, golden glow over the space. blinking groggily, he turned his head to see y/n at the small coffee table by the window, her face resting against her knee as she scribbled into a thick notebook. her hair was slightly mussed, and she was still wearing the oversized shirt she’d slept in, her bare legs tucked underneath her.

she didn’t notice him watching at first, her pen moving swiftly across the page, lips moving in rhythm with her humming. trent sat up slowly, rubbing a hand over his face before shuffling out of bed. his footsteps were quiet against the carpet, but y/n glanced up when he got closer, her pen pausing mid-word.

“morning,” he murmured, his voice still rough with sleep. he ruffled his curls absently, his movements lazy and unguarded. there was something unpolished about him in the early hours—his half-lidded eyes, the way his t-shirt clung to his chest, wrinkled from sleep—and y/n found herself wondering if this was how he always looked first thing in the morning.

“morning,” she replied softly, her eyes flickering over him before quickly returning to her notebook. the sight of him like this stirred something in her chest, a fleeting thought of what if it’s always like this? she shook it off quickly, reminding herself that such thoughts were dangerous.

trent settled next to her on the small loveseat, his body still heavy with sleep. “usually women don’t get out of bed that fast with me,” he teased, his lips curling into a slow smirk.

“ha ha,” y/n deadpanned, her tone dry but not unkind. “i couldn’t sleep. i usually have trouble sleeping more than a few hours, so i got up to write. it makes me feel productive.”

his gaze drifted to the notebook in her lap, curiosity flickering in his dark eyes. “what are you writing?” he asked, leaning closer to get a better look.

she quickly angled the book away from him, a playful but firm smile on her face. “it’s just fragments. little pieces.”

trent raised a brow, his attention shifting to the notebook itself. it was bursting at the seams, pages crinkled and marked with colorful tabs, some corners folded while others stuck out at odd angles. it looked well-loved, like it had been carried everywhere, filled with thoughts and ideas that couldn’t be contained.

“you wrote all of that?” he asked, genuine surprise coloring his tone.

“yeah,” she said with a small shrug. “not all of it’s songs. some are journal entries, random thoughts, lines that might help me draw inspiration later.”

trent leaned back slightly, taking in the sheer volume of the notebook. “that’s insane,” he said, shaking his head in disbelief. “you walk around with all of that in your head? how do you even keep it straight?”

y/n smiled faintly, her fingers tracing the edge of the cover. “i don’t, really. that’s why i write it all down. sometimes, it’s just too much. i have so many ideas, and if i don’t let them out, i feel like i’m going to explode.”

“so why not just hire songwriters?” he asked, his voice light but his curiosity genuine. “you’re already killing yourself over all this. wouldn’t it be easier to let someone else help?”

her expression shifted, something sharp and protective flashing in her eyes. “because it feels like cheating,” she said firmly. “if i don’t write it myself, it’s not really mine. the songs, the words, they’re pieces of me. if someone else writes them, then who am i?”

trent studied her for a long moment, taking in the passion in her voice, the fire behind her words. he’d never thought much about what went into making music, but listening to her, he realized it was so much more than just melodies and lyrics. it was her, poured into every line, every note.

“that’s… mad,” he said finally, his voice quiet with something bordering on awe. “i don’t think i’ve ever met someone who feels that much about what they do.”

y/n laughed softly, her gaze dropping to her notebook. “you’re making it sound deeper than it is.”

“nah,” trent said, shaking his head. “it’s deep. i mean, i just kick a ball around for a living. what you’re doing—creating something out of nothing—that’s different. that’s art.”

his words struck something in her, a warmth spreading through her chest despite herself. she looked up at him, and for a brief moment, their eyes met, something unspoken passing between them.

then she broke the moment, closing the notebook with a decisive thud. “well, it’s not art yet,” she said lightly. “it’s just a mess right now.”

trent grinned, leaning back against the loveseat with an easy confidence. “if that’s your mess, i can’t imagine what it looks like when you get it right.”

her cheeks warmed slightly, but she ignored it, standing up and stretching. “i’m getting coffee,” she said, brushing past him toward the kitchenette.

trent watched her go, his smirk softening into something closer to admiration. she was a puzzle, constantly surprising him, and as much as he hated to admit it, he was enjoying trying to figure her out.

—

trent returned to the hotel room, damp with sweat from his workout, his shirt sticking to his back as he pushed open the door. the room was already buzzing with activity; y/n sat at the small vanity, meticulously applying her makeup. she was dressed in a sleek outfit, her hair styled, looking entirely unbothered despite the early hour.

he leaned against the doorway, eyeing her as he wiped his face with a towel. “what’s the plan today?” he asked casually, peeling off his shirt and tossing it toward his suitcase.

y/n didn’t look up from her reflection, carefully blending the colors on her eyelids. “in the spirit of supporting one another while we’re away from home…” she started, her tone light but teasing, “i feel compelled to tell you something important.”

trent raised a brow, stepping toward the bathroom. “yeah? what’s that?”

“you have the fashion sense of a toddler,” she said flatly, still focused on her makeup.

he paused mid-step, turning to gape at her. “excuse me?”

“you heard me,” she said, her lips twitching as she fought back a smile. “nala has better style than you.”

trent frowned, crossing his arms. “who’s nala?”

“my cat,” she said simply, finally glancing at him in the mirror. her expression was utterly serious, but her eyes sparkled with amusement.

he placed a hand over his chest in mock offense. “wow. i’ve just been compared to a cat.”

“a very fashionable cat,” she added, biting back a laugh. “but don’t take it too personally.”

he shook his head, muttering something about ungrateful people as he stepped into the bathroom. a moment later, the sound of running water filled the room. “and here i was thinking we were making progress,” he called out over the noise.

“we are making progress,” she countered, switching to her lipstick. “you helped me last night—whether it was intentional or not—so, in honor of that, i’m offering you something very rare.”

“oh yeah?” he replied, his voice slightly muffled by the shower. “what’s that?”

“my services,” she said, her tone mockingly grand.

the water turned off, and a few seconds later, trent emerged from the bathroom with a towel slung low around his waist, droplets of water trailing down his chest. his curls were damp, framing his face in a way that made her pause briefly, her gaze flickering before she caught herself.

he leaned against the doorframe, a slow smirk spreading across his lips. “what kind of services are we talking about, y/n?” he asked, his voice low and teasing.

she rolled her eyes, trying to ignore the way her gaze briefly betrayed her, following a single droplet as it slid down his abs. she cleared her throat, meeting his eyes with a steady look. “i am taking you, trent alexander-arnold, for a makeover.”

his smirk faltered, replaced by a look of mock horror. “a makeover? you’re out of your mind.”

“it’s for your own good,” she said sweetly, standing and crossing her arms. “one time and one time only, i’m going to fix the mess you call a wardrobe.”

trent chuckled, shaking his head as he walked past her to grab some clothes. “you know, this feels like payback for that toddler comment.”

“oh, it definitely is,” she said with a grin, watching him with a mixture of exasperation and amusement. “but seriously, you need it. nala agrees.”

“the cat has no say in this,” he shot back, laughing as he disappeared into the bathroom to get dressed.

the streets of paris were buzzing with life as y/n and trent stepped out of the car, the crisp morning air carrying the faint scent of fresh bread from nearby bakeries. trent had barely adjusted the collar of his jacket before she grabbed his arm, tugging him forward with a determination that made him laugh under his breath.

“we’re starting here,” she announced, pointing at a sleek boutique with mannequins dressed in impossibly tailored outfits.

“you’re really taking this seriously, huh?” he teased, letting her drag him along, her smaller hand gripping his forearm. she wasn’t holding his hand—not quite—but her touch was firm, her nails brushing against his skin in a way that he couldn’t ignore.

“if i’m putting my time and energy into this, you’re going to leave paris looking like a new man,” she replied, not sparing him a glance as they stepped inside.

the store was minimalistic and modern, with racks of clothes that looked more like art than fabric. y/n wasted no time, walking down the aisles with a critical eye. she reached for a navy jacket and held it up to him, tilting her head as if she were picturing it on him.

“try this,” she said, thrusting it into his hands.

“you didn’t even ask if i like it,” trent said, eyebrows raised.

“it’s not about what you like,” she replied sweetly. “it’s about what i like. keep up.”

he chuckled, shaking his head as he followed her to the fitting rooms. “you’re ruthless, you know that?”

“you’ll thank me later,” she said, shooting him a smirk before disappearing back into the racks.

trent emerged a few minutes later, the jacket fitting him like a glove. y/n’s gaze flicked over him, her lips pressing together as she considered. “not bad,” she admitted, stepping closer to adjust the lapels. her fingers brushed against his chest, and he swore she hesitated for a second before stepping back.

“just ‘not bad’?” he asked, spinning slightly to show off.

“don’t push it,” she said, grabbing another shirt from the rack. “we’ve got more to do.”

and they did—store after store, y/n dragged him through narrow aisles, her energy relentless. she wasn’t shy about yanking his arm or turning him by the shoulders to face a mirror. sometimes, her hand would linger on his wrist, warm and steady, and he wondered if she noticed.

“what about this one?” he asked at one point, holding up a a shirt that was all too flashy for her.

she stared at him, unimpressed. “do you want people to think you’re twelve?”

“i think it’s fun,” he said, grinning.

“we’re not here for fun,” she retorted, pulling him toward another section. “we’re here for transformation.”

“you’re taking this a bit personal, aren’t you?” he teased, leaning closer as she browsed. “it’s almost like you want me to look good.”

“someone has to,” she shot back, refusing to meet his gaze. “you’re a public figure, trent. appearances matter.”

he hummed, watching her with a smirk as she focused on a row of sweaters. her concentration was cute—her brows furrowed, lips pursed as she muttered to herself about colors and cuts.

“you know,” he said, his voice low as he leaned closer, “if i didn’t know any better, i’d think you enjoyed spending all this time with me.”

she froze for half a second before brushing him off. “don’t flatter yourself,” she said, turning to shove a pair of trousers into his hands. “try these on.”

as the day wore on, they settled into an easy rhythm. y/n teased him mercilessly about his past choices (“what was this shirt? did you lose a bet?”), and trent fired back with his own jabs (“you’re lucky i even let you take the lead on this”). but there were quieter moments too—like when she adjusted the cuffs of a coat he tried on, her fingers lingering for a second longer than necessary, or when he caught her watching him in the mirror, her expression unreadable.

outside yet another boutique, trent leaned against a lamppost, bags piling up at his feet. “how many more stores are we hitting?” he asked, feigning exhaustion.

“at least one more,” she replied, hands on her hips. “stop being dramatic.”

“you’re bossy, you know that?” he said, grinning.

“and you’re lucky i’m taking the time to fix this mess,” she shot back, grabbing his arm again. this time, her grip was looser, her fingers brushing against his in a way that felt almost… deliberate.

he didn’t say anything, letting her guide him. for now, he thought, he’d let her have her fun.

she sighed, trying to navigate through the store, “these stores changed so much once i last came here with ja-“ she stopped herself abruptly. hoping trent hadn’t heard her slip up.

trent stopped mid-step outside the next boutique, his head snapping toward her. “wait—what did you just say?”

y/n blinked, momentarily confused, until her brain replayed what had just slipped from her mouth. her eyes widened slightly, and she shifted on her feet. “oh, um, i said i’ve been here before.”

“with jadon,” he clarified, his voice edged with mock annoyance as he folded his arms.

she winced, rubbing the back of her neck. “yeah, sorry. force of habit.”

trent narrowed his eyes, though the corner of his mouth twitched in amusement. “force of habit, huh? well, i’m sure he didn’t complain about your fashion critiques, considering his—what’s the word?—questionable sense of style.”

y/n couldn’t help but laugh, the tension dissipating. “oh, definitely not. you dress better than him, no contest.”

“of course i do,” trent said smugly, holding his head high.

she rolled her eyes, stepping closer and lightly patting his cheek. “of course, my love.” the words were dripping with sarcasm, but the playful glint in her eyes softened the blow.

“don’t patronize me,” he shot back, grabbing her wrist and pulling it away from his face.

she shrugged, unfazed, already moving toward the entrance of the store. “but since we’re on the topic,” she continued, waving a hand dramatically, “his style was always so… streetwear-heavy. nothing wrong with that, but it never matched my vibe, you know? i like to experiment, play with textures and layers. he just threw on whatever hoodie was closest.”

trent trailed behind her, smirking as she rambled.

“and then there’s you,” she said, stopping in front of a mannequin dressed in a sharp, tailored suit. she turned to him, her eyes gleaming with mischief. “you’re like my own personal ken doll. i get to dress you up, fix your outfits, make sure you look decent for the cameras.”

he raised an eyebrow. “ken doll? that’s what you’re going with?”

“absolutely,” she replied with a grin, stepping back to look him up and down dramatically. “and you should be grateful. you have the face and body to pull off almost anything, but without me? you’d probably still be wearing monogram Louis Vuitton like it’s 2018.”

trent froze for a second, a sheepish expression creeping across his face. “i—what’s wrong with monogram Louis Vuitton?”

her eyes narrowed as she caught the hint of hesitation in his voice. “you do have it, don’t you?”

he rubbed the back of his neck, his gaze dropping briefly to the floor. “…maybe.”

“that’s what i thought,” she said smugly, looping her arm through his and giving him a playful tug forward. “don’t worry, trent alexander-arnold. i’m your catalyst, your style savior. by the time i’m done with you, you’ll be thanking me.”

he laughed under his breath, letting her guide him deeper into the store. “you’re really not letting up, are you?”

“not a chance,” she replied, already scanning the racks. “and for the record, if i see anything monogrammed, i’m burning it. consider it an act of mercy.”

trent rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t hide the small smile tugging at his lips. he might’ve been the one with the attention-grabbing reputation, but with her around, she always managed to steal the spotlight in her own way.

as she dragged him along, trent let out a mock sigh of defeat, though he couldn’t help but admire the way her smile lit up her entire face. she was bossy, relentless, and occasionally infuriating, but he couldn’t deny that he was enjoying every second of it.

trent stepped out of the dressing room in the brown bomber jacket and baggy jeans, hoping for something a bit more polished. he looked at y/n, her gaze flicking over him with that critical yet playful intensity.

“well?” he asked, crossing his arms, already anticipating her verdict.

she paused for a moment, her lips curving into a small grin. “you look…”

“yeah?” he raised an eyebrow, already preparing for her judgment.

“cute,” she said with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes.

trent froze, blinking a few times. “cute?” he repeated, incredulity in his voice.

“yeah, cute,” she confirmed, her smile widening as she watched his expression.

trent couldn’t help but laugh, shaking his head. “cute? is the point of this for me to look ‘cute’? i thought you were revamping my style. i’m a man, y/n, if you couldn’t tell.”

y/n raised an eyebrow, unfazed by his attempt to sound offended. “oh, i know you’re a man, but that doesn’t mean you can’t look cute every once in a while.”

“cute isn’t what i’m going for,” trent shot back, still feeling the absurdity of it all. “i was hoping for something a little more, i don’t know, sharp?”

“sharp?” she repeated, a teasing note creeping into her voice. “you want to look like you just stepped out of a magazine shoot or something? you’re already a model, trent. not to mention you features are soft. i’m giving you style, not just ‘manly’ vibes.”

he sighed, rolling his eyes, though a smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “well, i’m glad i’m your personal project, but i don’t think ‘cute’ is going to cut it.”

y/n grinned, clearly enjoying his discomfort. “trust me, you’re pulling it off. but okay, i get it. you want to feel like a man, not a boy. let’s take it up a notch.”

she eyed the other racks, swiping a leather jacket off a hanger with a satisfied expression. “this—this is more like it. a little edge, a little confidence. no more ‘cute.’”

trent, still a little baffled by the whole thing, relented with a shrug. “fine, but if i’m still ‘cute,’ you’re getting a refund for your services.”

“deal,” she said, winking as she handed him the jacket.

“now we’re talking,” he muttered as he took the jacket, feeling the smooth leather. he wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or confused by how much fun he was having.

y/n’s eyes narrowed in a playful yet serious way as she grabbed the leather jacket from his hands and draped it over his shoulders. “you’re getting this,” she said firmly, adjusting the collar as if she were making a final decision.

trent, now genuinely amused and a little exasperated, looked at her. “really? this? you’re sure about that?”

“absolutely,” she said, crossing her arms and giving him a look that dared him to argue. “thank me later when the photos come out and everyone’s talking about how good you look.”

trent let out a breath, glancing at his reflection in the mirror. the jacket did fit him better than he’d expected, the rich leather adding an edge to his usual style that he hadn’t thought was possible. still, he tried to maintain some sense of resistance.

“fine,” he muttered, throwing her a challenging grin. “but if i end up looking like a wannabe rock star, i’m blaming you.”

y/n laughed, walking around him to inspect her work. “i’ll take the blame. but trust me, you’re gonna look like the hottest guy in the room. you just wait.”

trent rolled his eyes, his smirk tugging at his lips. “i guess we’ll see.”

“oh, we will,” she replied with a wink. “now, go and get changed. we’re not done yet. i have more outfits that are gonna make you look—” she paused for dramatic effect, her tone teasing, “—undeniably handsome.”

trent shook his head, stepping back into the dressing room with a shake of his head, but the smallest of smiles tugged at his mouth as he thought about how she was actually right. he was starting to trust her, just a little bit.

trent stood there for a moment, staring at his reflection in the mirror. his hands rested on his hips as he processed the jacket she’d just picked out, his mind still buzzing with her words. it wasn’t just the outfit she had chosen—he was used to wearing clothes that made a statement, but something about the way she made him feel, the ease with which she gave compliments, left him slightly taken aback.

as he glanced down at himself, he realized how much he actually enjoyed her praise. it wasn’t just the clothes; it was the way she made him feel seen, noticed, in the most natural way. her words had a softness to them, as if she believed them wholeheartedly—her voice so light and confident, like she had always known he was capable of pulling something like this off.

and it wasn’t just about what she said; it was the way she said it. her compliments seemed to flow effortlessly from her beautiful lips, without hesitation or a second thought, making him feel like he was worthy of them. she didn’t just throw words his way like most people did; they felt earned, like she genuinely saw something in him that no one else did.

he wasn’t used to this kind of attention. sure, there were fans, there were cameras and adoring eyes, but this? this felt different. her compliments didn’t just settle on his skin; they sank in deeper, wrapped around him, making him feel like he was finally seen for who he really was.

he smiled to himself, a thought lingering: maybe she wasn’t just revamping his style. maybe she was helping him find something more.

it was a friday evening, and y/n was sprawled on the couch at zaia’s house, her phone tucked between her fingers as she skimmed through messages. zaia and her fiancé, cassius, were in the kitchen, busy making dinner while y/n absentmindedly glanced at the screen, scrolling past pictures of a cat someone had tagged her in. her phone buzzed again, and a small smile tugged at her lips when she saw the name flashing across the screen: trent.

trent: do you ever just look at your trainers and wonder how they got so dirty?

y/n chuckled to herself, shaking her head.

y/n: now that you mention it... i never really thought about it. do you spend all your time wondering about shoes or is this a new thing?

trent: just one of my many deep thoughts. i’m quite the philosopher at heart.

y/n raised an eyebrow, holding back her laugh as zaia wandered over with a glass of water, catching the tail end of her conversation.

“you better not be texting jadon again,” zaia teased, raising her glass to her lips with a wink.

y/n rolled her eyes but shot back a casual shrug, her thumb still typing a response. “no, it’s trent,” she said matter-of-factly, not thinking much of it.

zaia glanced at her with a smirk, her eyebrows shooting up in surprise. “oh, trent,” she echoed, a playful glint in her eyes. “not jadon then? that’s a first.”

cassius, leaning casually against the counter, smirked too. “you’re not even going to hide it, huh?” he added, looking between the two women, his expression a mixture of amusement and curiosity.

“i’m not hiding anything. trent’s just funny, okay?” y/n defended, trying to sound casual, though the way zaia and cassius exchanged looks made her cheeks flush slightly. “it’s not what you think.”

zaia shrugged, her playful grin never fading. “well, if it’s trent... maybe we should keep an eye on you. you know, i’ll confiscate your phone if i have to. i am the responsible one around here,” she teased.

“uh-huh, right,” y/n muttered, rolling her eyes, tapping away at her phone, ignoring their teasing. “anyway, i don’t know why you’re making such a big deal out of this. it’s just... a text.”

before she could finish, her phone lit up again, this time with a notification: facetime call from trent.

zaia grinned widely as y/n's eyes went wide. “ohhh, here we go. first face-to-face call. let’s see this.”

y/n shot her a look. “it’s not like that,” she said quickly, but it was clear zaia wasn’t buying it.

“i’m watching this,” zaia said, taking a step back with her glass of water, a sly smile still playing on her lips.

y/n’s heart skipped a beat as she accepted the call, standing up and quickly walking toward the guest room. the door clicked shut behind her, and she sat down on the edge of the bed, inhaling a breath to calm her nerves. she pressed the phone to her ear, the screen lighting up with trent’s face.

“hey, what’s up?” she said, trying to sound cool but her voice betraying a hint of excitement.

trent’s face appeared on the screen with a smile. “not much. just had a thought, and i wanted to ask you something.”

y/n leaned back, crossing her arms with an amused smile. “a thought, huh? is this one of those philosopher thoughts?”

trent chuckled, the sound sending a warm wave through her chest. “maybe. but seriously—have you ever thought about how weird it is when people say ‘goodnight’ in a text but don’t actually say goodnight? like, they just drop the message and expect you to read it and know that it means ‘goodnight.’ like... come on, just say it. it’s polite.”

y/n’s lips twitched into a smile. she hadn’t known trent was this funny, his dry humor sneaking in like an unexpected comfort. it was nice—refreshing, even. “i honestly never gave it that much thought,” she admitted, “but now that you mention it, yeah, it is kind of weird. so, do you actually say goodnight when you text?”

“i do now,” trent said seriously, his smirk on full display. “i’ll text goodnight every time now, just so you know i’m a decent person.”

“decent, huh?” she teased, watching him laugh on the screen. “you’re just looking for an excuse for me to compliment you.”

“well, is it working?” he asked, a playful glint in his eyes.

y/n didn’t respond right away, feeling the warmth in her chest again. it was the way he said things, the way he spoke to her like he cared, even in the small details. she wanted to say something, but before she could, zaia’s voice cut through the door.

“hey, let me know if i need to change my sheets for you!” she called loudly, her voice carrying through the house.

y/n’s face heated, and she quickly stood, walking toward the window to regain some semblance of composure. “zaia’s being zaia,” she muttered, her voice betraying her embarrassment.

“wait, what’s that about sheets?” trent asked, raising an eyebrow. “why would she need to change them?”

y/n groaned, rolling her eyes. “don’t even start. it’s just her being... you know, zaia. she’s always been like this.” she paused, hesitant to elaborate. “she’s my childhood best friend. we do movie nights every friday, and ever since she met cassius, he’s kind of been involved in it, too. they’re... a lot.”

trent leaned closer to the screen, his smirk widening. “sounds like a lot to handle.”

y/n laughed softly, feeling a little lighter. “damn straight. i’m the responsible one, though,” she said, a bit of pride in her voice.

“you’re the responsible one, huh?” trent teased. “i’m gonna have to take that role on now, i think. it’s my responsibility to rope you in and make sure you’re not doing anything too wild.”

y/n couldn’t help but laugh at the idea. “yeah, well, you’ve got your hands full now,” she said with a grin. “but you’re not off the hook. you’ve got to help me keep this movie night under control.”

trent’s eyes softened, his smile more genuine now. “i’ve got your back. no worries. i like small talk like this,” he added casually. “it’s... nice.”

y/n leaned back against the bed, the steady hum of comfort between them filling the silence. “it is, isn’t it?” she murmured. “nice. small talk... it’s underrated.”

for a moment, there was nothing but the sound of each other’s breathing, as if both of them were just settling into the quiet rhythm of the conversation. trent shifted slightly, and his gaze softened. “yeah, i agree,” he said. “so... how was your day?”

y/n smiled, relaxing into the conversation. “it was good. nothing too crazy. i was hanging out with zaia and cassius. we were supposed to watch a movie, but i think we got distracted by... everything else.”

“sounds familiar,” trent said with a chuckle. “my day was alright. it’s been pretty busy, but i’m just glad it’s over.”

“same here,” she said, her voice light and easy now. “it’s nice just... talking like this.”

“yeah,” trent agreed. “it is.”

and for a while, they just stayed on the line, the small talk and laughter weaving a delicate thread of connection, and y/n couldn’t help but feel a flutter in her chest as she realized that, for once, it didn’t feel like just small talk at all.

as the call continued, y/n found herself leaning back against the bed, the soft glow of her phone screen illuminating her face. trent was still grinning at her, sitting in what looked like a hotel room, his hair a little messier than usual, as though he had just finished a training session or was settling in for the night.

“you’re staying in a hotel?” y/n asked, her fingers absentmindedly tracing the edge of her blanket.

“yeah, had a match earlier. just finishing up a few things before bed,” trent replied casually, but y/n could see the hint of something in his eyes. there was a softness there, something that made her heart flutter unexpectedly.

“long day, huh?” she said, trying to mask the sudden warmth that spread through her chest. it was a strange feeling, knowing he was in a hotel room somewhere far away, but still finding time to call her.

“yeah, but it’s worth it if it means i get to talk to you,” trent said, his smile widening slightly. he seemed a little shy, which caught her off guard, making her heart skip a beat.

y/n's breath caught in her throat, her mind racing. she didn’t know why, but hearing him say that made everything feel different—more real. the distance between them didn’t matter right now. it was just them, and this moment felt special in a way she hadn’t expected. she had never thought much about how long he might spend talking to her, but now that he had said it so casually, it made her feel… important.

“you really do think of me, huh?” she said softly, her voice quiet with the sudden realization.

trent tilted his head, his smirk fading into something more genuine. “of course i do. i wouldn’t be calling you if i didn’t,” he said, his eyes softening as he watched her. “besides, you’re on my mind more than i care to admit.”

y/n smiled, feeling warmth spread through her like a gentle wave. she bit her lip, her heart racing slightly at the unexpected intimacy of the moment. “i didn’t realize you were this... cute,” she teased, trying to hide the sudden shyness that crept up on her.

trent laughed, leaning back against the pillows. “again with the cute stuff, huh? i’ll take that as a compliment.” he grinned, his voice low, playful. “i guess you’re not so bad yourself.”

they fell into a comfortable silence for a moment, the kind of silence that felt easy and natural. it wasn’t awkward at all, and y/n realized she was smiling without even trying. this was nice. the way they could talk about nothing, but it meant something all the same.

“so, what’s your plan for tomorrow?” trent asked, breaking the silence, his tone suddenly light.

“probably just the usual—take it easy, maybe get some work done,” she replied, glancing out the window. “what about you?”

“same. i have to do a few more things for the team, but i’ll be free after that. maybe we could—i don’t know—do something together?”

y/n’s heart skipped again at the suggestion. “you want to do something together?” she echoed, surprised.

“yeah,” trent said casually, “maybe we could facetime again. talk some more, if you’re up for it.”

y/n smiled, the warmth in her chest spreading further. “sounds like a plan,” she said softly.

“good,” he said with a satisfied nod. “i’ll be looking forward to it.”

there was another brief pause, and y/n couldn’t help but smile to herself, feeling lighter than she had all day. he really did think of her. even across the miles and the hours of distance, he still made time for her. it made her feel special in a way that was simple, yet undeniable.

“you’re cute too, by the way,” he added quietly, her voice barely above a whisper but she could still hear the teasing undertone .

her eyes sparkled. “good to know,” she said, clearly pleased. “maybe next time we can talk about what other compliments you’re hiding from me.”

trent laughed, rolling her eyes. “you’ll just have to wait and find out.”

“i will,” she replied, her tone playful as she met his warm gaze, like a promise. “goodnight, y/n. talk soon?” he said

“goodnight, trent. talk soon,” she echoed, her smile lingering even after the call ended. as she set her phone down and lay back against the pillows, she felt that warmth in her chest again, like she was floating in the afterglow of something sweet and simple—something that didn’t need to be said out loud to be understood. he was thinking of her. and somehow, that made everything feel like it was exactly where it needed to be.

y/n's PR team had insisted that trent accompany her for the day, even though it was his day off. apparently, the cameras would add a spark of “authenticity” to the behind-the-scenes content they were trying to create for her upcoming show, a special one-off concert to promote her new album. she couldn’t deny that the idea of having him there, especially in front of so many cameras, would make everything feel just a little more… complicated. but she couldn’t back out either. not with the pressure mounting.

the day had begun with rehearsals, and y/n found herself in her usual comfortable, low-key attire: baggy sweats, a worn tank top, and a hat pulled low over her eyes. she had a playlist lined up—some of the tracks she’d be performing tonight—and she was lost in the music as she moved around the stage. there was something freeing about it, about letting her body respond to the rhythm, even when the rehearsals weren’t perfect. the mic felt like an extension of her body, and as she sang, she couldn’t help but notice trent, sitting quietly off to the side.

he’d been watching her for a while now, his gaze intense but silent. his presence made her acutely aware of her own movements, and she tried to focus on the song, pushing the thoughts of him out of her head. but the way his eyes followed her, how they lingered on her curves and the way her body moved with the music, made it difficult to stay in her own rhythm.

after finishing the first set of songs, y/n sat down on the edge of the stage, crossing her legs beneath her and letting out a deep breath, wiping the sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand. her hat had slipped off during one of the songs, and now, with the music paused, she took it off completely, flipping her hair out from underneath it with a sigh.

“you’re staring again,” she said, glancing up at trent, who had moved closer during her set, but was still a few feet away.

trent raised an eyebrow, a cocky grin playing on his lips. “can you blame me?”

y/n rolled her eyes, but her lips tugged at the corners. “i didn’t realize you were so into stage performances.”

“it’s not the performance, y/n,” he replied smoothly, stepping forward. “it’s you.”

she felt the heat creep up her neck, trying to fight the sudden flutter in her chest, but it was getting harder to ignore the tension between them. she looked away, focusing on her hands in her lap. “well, i didn’t do it for you.”

“i think you did,” he teased, finally stepping onto the stage beside her. he leaned over, bracketing her in with his arms as he crouched down to her level. she could smell the faint scent of his cologne, and the heat of his body so close made her pulse quicken.

she looked up at him, eyes widening slightly at the sudden proximity, and pulled off her hat, shaking out her hair, letting it fall freely around her shoulders. she could feel the heat of his gaze on her, and it made her feel… exposed.

“so, how does this all feel?” he asked, his voice soft, almost vulnerable. “i can’t imagine what it’s like to be a singer. all this pressure, all the expectations… how do you deal with it?”

y/n paused, her gaze flickering to the floor for a moment before she spoke. “it’s hard, trent. people don’t realize how hard it is. when i was in the choir, i only had to worry about my part—i didn’t have to worry about everything else. back then, i didn’t even want to be noticed.” she chuckled softly, shaking her head. “i tried to go unnoticed in the back row.”

he leaned in slightly, his voice quiet. “i find that hard to believe. you—unnoticed?”

she smirked, meeting his eyes again, a little taken aback by how sincere he sounded. “yeah, i was pretty good at it, actually. no one ever picked me out.”

“you must've eventually,” he said, his voice almost like a whisper. “you could never go unnoticed, not then and not now.”

there was something in his eyes, something that made y/n’s heart skip a beat. she could see the intensity in them, the admiration that was growing more evident with every word. for a moment, everything around them felt like it faded away—the music, the other people in the room. it was just the two of them, locked in a quiet moment of connection.

she cleared her throat, trying to break the tension, but his eyes stayed fixed on her. “i guess it’s crazy how i even got picked out,” she murmured. “my teacher noticed me, even though i was trying so hard to blend in. i guess i never thought i’d end up here, doing this for real.”

trent’s expression softened. “you were always meant for it, y/n. you’ve got something. something special.”

she felt the heat rise to her cheeks, but she didn’t say anything. she didn’t know what to say.

before she could respond, the moment was broken by her stage manager, who called from the side, “y/n, we need to do a sound check for the next song!”

y/n blinked, almost startled by the interruption. she stood up quickly, brushing off the dust from her legs as she grabbed her hat, quickly flipping it back on. “yeah, i—uh, i need to go.”

trent stood up too, taking a step back, his expression unreadable for a second. “guess i’ll see you later,” he said, a slight grin tugging at the corner of his lips.

but there was something more in his eyes now—a glimmer of something that y/n couldn’t quite place, but it made her pause before she turned away.

“yeah, later,” she said softly, then walked toward the sound booth, feeling the weight of his gaze still following her.

the rest of rehearsal passed in a blur, but the tension between them lingered like an electric charge in the air. it wasn’t just the music, the spotlight—it was something deeper, something she wasn’t sure either of them was ready to confront just yet.

trent arrived back at y/n’s dressing room after catching his breath from warming up, his mind still reeling from the intensity of the match earlier. the adrenaline from being on the pitch still lingered in his body, but it was quickly replaced by something else as he pushed open the door.

the room was dimly lit, a soft glow coming from the vanity mirror where y/n was sitting, adjusting the final touches of her makeup. the glow of the soft pink and white lights framed her face perfectly, making her seem even more ethereal than usual. she was dressed in an outfit that trent could barely tear his eyes away from—a sparkling, skin-tight number that hugged her body in all the right places, the material glinting with every subtle movement she made. her dark locks were styled in a way that made them cascade down her back, and her makeup, subtle but striking, highlighted her best features.

the moment he saw her, his breath caught in his throat. y/n was gorgeous, there was no other way to put it. but it was more than just her appearance—it was the way she held herself, the way she seemed to glow in that space. the way she was always unapologetically herself. it was intoxicating.

"wow," he muttered under his breath, his eyes raking over her, a mixture of awe and desire in his expression.

she caught his gaze in the mirror, her lips curling into a teasing smile. “like what you see?”

trent’s voice came out rougher than he intended. “you... you look incredible.” he took a step closer to her, almost hesitant. "really. I... don't even know what to say."

y/n turned around, giving him a quick glance up and down, noting how he seemed almost caught off guard by her. “well, that’s a first. you always have something to say.” she tilted her head slightly. “what’s going on with you, trent? you okay?”

before he could answer, his eyes drifted to a small bouquet of roses placed delicately on the vanity table next to y/n. the red and white petals caught his attention for a moment before he read the card attached to them. his expression shifted instantly as he read the familiar handwriting.

“for the one who still has my heart, with love, j.”

trent’s heart sank as he read the note, his fingers twitching slightly. his eyes flicked back to y/n, who was completely unaware of his change in demeanor as she stood and smoothed out the fabric of her outfit. the warmth he’d felt before suddenly vanished, replaced by a coldness he didn’t even know he was capable of.

he tried to mask it, but y/n caught the change. “you alright?” she asked, now sensing something was off in the air. “what is it?”

trent gave a stiff smile, his eyes narrowed ever so slightly, his usual cocky demeanor returning. “nothing. just... something’s in the air tonight.”

“right,” y/n responded, her tone becoming more cautious. she could feel the tension shift between them, but before she could say anything else, trent backed away toward the door.

“you should get ready. your fans are waiting,” he said, voice cool and clipped, almost like he was trying to shake off something he couldn’t quite express. “I’ll see you out there, yeah?”

before y/n could respond, trent had already turned and walked out, leaving her alone in the room with nothing but the soft hum of the lights around her and the faint scent of roses that lingered in the air.

the concert started, and the energy in the arena was palpable. the audience was buzzing with excitement, and y/n could feel the adrenaline building in her as she made her way onto the stage. the crowd cheered loudly as she took her place, her eyes scanning the sea of faces before them. but as soon as the music began, something shifted.

y/n poured herself into the performance, every lyric coming from her with a rawness that had been building for months. she felt the familiar pull of the microphone in her hand, the music wrapping around her body like an old friend. it was like no one else existed, only her and the crowd and the way her voice seemed to connect with every word.

trent stood backstage, watching her from the side, the intense glow of the stage lights illuminating his face. he’d been so sure of his control earlier, but now, as he watched y/n sing, everything felt... complicated.

he knew something wasn’t right. he could feel his heart racing, but it wasn’t just because of the performance. it was the way y/n looked, how she seemed to be pouring all of herself into the lyrics. it was that feeling again, the one that had started when he first saw her earlier, but now it was tinged with jealousy and something more raw, more vulnerable than he cared to admit.

his eyes fixed on y/n as she made her way to the stage for her second set of songs. she was already glammed up—an undeniable force, even before she opened her mouth. her outfit, a sleek black dress with a plunging neckline, clung to her curves, highlighting everything that made him ache with desire. she looked stunning, and yet, something about her tonight felt different.

but as soon as the music began and the lights dimmed, trent knew he couldn’t escape it. she took the stage, her voice smooth and powerful, and the crowd erupted in cheers. but trent couldn’t focus on the applause or the energy in the room. his mind kept returning to the roses. the way she had been so comfortable, so carefree about her connection to jadon, when he had been so careful about everything between them.

and then, it happened—the moment that made everything fall apart.

the song. spread thin. the lyrics hit trent like a freight train, each word piercing through the air like a blade. the crowd was captivated by her performance, but trent’s stomach twisted as he listened to the words.

and now i cannot trust you and i'm forced to let you go that's what spreadin' thin on us do

the lyrics felt like a dagger aimed straight at his chest. and for a moment, trent could have sworn the song was directed at him. but then, he heard it again—the familiar name, the familiarity of the words. they weren't about him. it was about jadon.

baby, you're the reason you always think the only one who needs any attention is you

his heart lurched as he realized the truth. the song wasn’t just a performance. it was personal. she was singing about jadon—the man she was still tangled up with. all the flirtation between them, all the moments they shared, it was fake in comparison. she wasn’t singing for him. she was singing for someone else.

don't be so conceited hope you know honesty was the only thing that could keep me from leavin'

the jealousy was overwhelming now. trent felt the weight of her past with jadon, how deeply she still felt for him, and the thought of it made his chest tighten. he stood frozen, feeling an ache in his chest, his gaze never leaving y/n.

now i'm left to you wonder, how i let this go under? how i could watch it rain for so long and ain't hear no thunder?

her voice was so raw, so full of emotion. he couldn’t escape the feeling that he had been watching her fall apart for too long. she was lost in the song, lost in the past, and he was just a part of the show—a distraction from the man who still had her heart.

trent couldn’t stop the knot forming in his throat as the lyrics continued.

and we led all our hollywood dreams end in a blunder how i may never see you again, i hate when the summer ends but it always would, and you'll always be disappointed 'cause you're insecure, chasin' things you thought you wanted

the song spoke to something deeper, something trent couldn’t ignore anymore. it was about how she had been left behind, how she had tried to move forward, but her heart was still in the past. the painful irony of it all hit him like a slap. she was singing for jadon, and in doing so, she was pushing him further away.

the crowd cheered, but trent felt nothing. his emotions were a mixture of confusion, hurt, and anger. he was standing backstage, pretending to be happy for her, pretending that everything between them was real, when in reality, he was just another player in a game she wasn’t invested in. she was still in love with someone else. someone who wasn’t him.

trent stood there, paralyzed, as he watched her on stage, singing the words with such conviction. he had never felt more like an outsider in her life. every note she sang was a reminder that no matter how much he tried to be close to her, he was always going to be second to someone else.

and if hollywood is home now it's just a house that is haunted

he watched her, his heart sinking lower with every line of the song. she was haunted, and he had never realized just how much jadon still haunted her.

by the time the song ended, trent couldn’t stand it anymore. he turned on his heel and stormed out of the backstage area, barely hearing the crowd’s applause over the sound of his pulse pounding in his ears.

as the applause for her performance rang through the venue, y/n could feel the weight of trent’s gaze on her. but she didn’t dare look his way—not now, not after everything. she had been so careful not to let her feelings show, but her song had said everything she couldn’t.

and when she finally caught his eye after the performance, she saw it—the coldness. the distance he had put between them, the walls he had built up.

she had known the moment she decided to sing spread thin that it would cut through the air like a knife. but she couldn’t help it. jadon was still there, lingering in her heart, no matter how much she wanted to move on.

she could see the anger in trent’s eyes, the hurt—and it stung.

but maybe, just maybe, he was feeling something real. something that had always been there, just hidden beneath the surface.

as she made her way off stage, she hoped—no, prayed—that this wasn’t the end of whatever it was between them.

for the first time, trent wished it was him she was singing for. he wished it had always been him. but now, watching her walk away, he realized it was too late to change the past. and it hurt more than he could ever admit.

that evening, after the show, y/n couldn't shake the feeling that something had changed. maybe it was in the way trent was quieter than usual, the distance between them palpable in the way he kept his answers short. she noticed the small shifts in him—the slight tension in his posture when she laughed at something he said, the way he would avoid looking at her for just a moment too long.

y/n knew he was pulling away, but she didn't know why. and that was the hardest part. it wasn’t like they’d been deep in something yet—nothing serious, nothing real. but they had shared something, even if it was just the potential of something, the possibility that maybe, just maybe, there could be more.

but now, she could see him building walls.

she couldn't let herself hope, though. she had to face the reality of it. maybe it was easier to pretend it was nothing at all than deal with the bitter truth that he wasn’t interested in something real. it had never been real to him.

after some internal debate, y/n decided to invite him over to her house. just a quiet evening, a chance to clear her head and figure out where things stood—where she stood. her parents were away, visiting family back home. the house was quiet, just the way she liked it when she wanted space to think.

when he arrived, there was a formality to him, like he wasn’t sure what to do with the invitation. he was polite, distant, not the easygoing trent she'd spent time with. he glanced around the living room, taking it all in, before turning to face her.

“thanks for the invite,” he said, his voice a little tight, like he was still figuring out what role he was playing here.

“no problem,” she replied, offering a small smile. “want something to drink?”

“no, I’m good.”

they walked toward the couch, the sound of their footsteps echoing in the emptiness of the house. y/n sat first, trying to ease into the calm atmosphere, but the air between them felt charged with the unspoken. she had to say something, had to figure out what was going on in his head.

“so... how did the show go?” she asked, though she already knew the answer. she just wanted to hear him speak, hear something other than the silence that hung around them.

“it was good,” trent replied, his voice clipped but not unkind. “crowd was into it.”

“nice,” she said, nodding. the small talk felt like a barrier, and it made her anxious.

the silence settled back in. as if on cue, nala, y/n's cat, appeared from the corner of the room, her yellow eyes immediately locking onto trent. y/n could already feel the tension in the air. trent, who had never been fond of animals, stiffened as nala crept closer, her curiosity piqued by his presence.

"she's harmless," y/n said, trying to ease the moment.

trent looked at the cat warily. “not so sure about that,” he muttered, eyes flicking from nala back to y/n.

y/n chuckled softly before scooping nala up into her arms. “it’s fine,” she said, lifting the cat higher so trent could get a better look. “you wanna meet her?”

trent looked at her for a long moment, hesitant, then nodded reluctantly. y/n could tell he was uncomfortable, but she couldn’t help but laugh a little at the sight. she placed nala gently in his arms, and the cat immediately sniffed trent’s hand, her soft purring vibrating against his chest.

“there,” y/n teased. “she likes your scent.”

trent gave a half-smile, but it was clear he was still unsure, his hands stiff as he awkwardly held the cat. but the brief connection between them softened the tension just a bit, and y/n could feel the atmosphere shift ever so slightly. after a few seconds, he handed nala back to her, and she cradled the cat gently in her lap.

they moved to the couch, sitting side by side in the quiet living room, each with their own thoughts. y/n tucked her legs under her, feeling a familiar sense of emptiness in the space between them. she looked at trent, trying to catch his gaze, but he was staring ahead, the tension from earlier still lingering in the air.

“so, y/n,” trent said after a long silence, turning slightly toward her. his tone was more casual now, but it still felt guarded. “you write your own songs, right?”

y/n felt a flutter in her chest. she had expected the conversation to veer in this direction, but hearing him ask it felt different. it wasn’t just a question—it felt like a test, a subtle push to see how much she was willing to reveal, how much she was worth beyond their surface flirtation.

“yeah, I do,” she answered, her voice steady, though her mind raced. she knew he was trying to assess her, to see if she was more than just the girl who had shared a couple of flirty texts with him.

“that’s what i thought,” trent replied with a slight smile , the kind that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

there was an edge to the conversation, and y/n felt it, sharp as a knife. she swallowed the lump in her throat, trying not to let her frustration show. this was familiar. it was the same thing she had sensed earlier—the walls he was putting up, the way he was trying to keep things light, casual, and nothing more.

“look, y/n,” he said after a moment, his tone shifting slightly. “we shouldn’t complicate this.”

y/n’s breath caught in her throat. she had known it was coming, but hearing him say it out loud still stung.

“what do you mean?” she asked, her voice quiet, but the edge of hurt was unmistakable.

trent looked at her, his eyes locking onto hers with an intensity that felt almost too much. he seemed to hesitate for a moment, then sighed, leaning back a little. “I’m attracted to you. you’re a beautiful girl. but we both know why we’re here. we need to keep this professional. keep the boundaries clear. the flirting... it’s fun, but we can’t let it get messy.”

the words hit her like a cold wave, and y/n felt a deep, hollow ache spreading through her chest. she had been hoping—even just a little—that there could be something more here, something real. but his words shattered that hope, leaving nothing behind but the bitter realization that he hadn’t been looking for anything serious. not with her.

she opened her mouth, but the words wouldn’t come. what could she say? it was clear. he didn’t want to complicate things, and she wasn’t going to be the one to make it more than it already was.

forcing a smile, she nodded, though it felt like her heart was being pulled out from her chest. “yeah. I get it,” she said, trying to make the words sound casual, but they tasted bitter in her mouth.

he didn’t seem to notice. or maybe he did, and he just didn’t care. either way, he didn’t press further. “cool,” he said, as if it was no big deal. and just like that, they both fell back into their familiar roles—flirting, but never truly connecting.

the night slipped into quiet emptiness, the same kind of emptiness that y/n had been feeling all evening. when trent left, she closed the door behind him, feeling like she’d just let a piece of herself go.

but the pain lingered long after he was gone. the hurt wasn’t just from the rejection—it was the realization that she had built something in her mind, something that wasn’t real. it had never been real.

and letting go would be harder than she ever expected.

© PDRIESTA 2025

[vodika-vibes]

A Choice Made

Summary: When Howzer comes to you in the middle of the night, panicked and frantic, you realize you must make a choice. Of course, the reality is that you made your choice years ago.

Pairing: Captain Howzer x F!Reader

Word Count: 764

Warnings: None

A/N: Hello and Happy New Year everyone! this is my first story of 2025, and sorry if it's not the greatest. I got a new keyboard for Christmas and it's a lot bigger than the one I was using. Anyway! I hope you all like it~

Your home is quiet again.

Howzer, your Howzer, is sleeping peacefully in the bed next to you. He looks peaceful, and you’re glad for it. When he showed up several hours ago, he had been filled with a frantic energy that, frankly, worried you.

But a hot dinner and a warm shower did wonders to settle him, at least enough that he could explain what sent him to you in such a rush.

And that is why you’re still awake. 

His words echo through your mind even now. 

“The Empire knows about you. They’ll use you as a weapon against me. We need to leave.”

You knew this was a possibility when you agreed to date him all those years ago. And you knew the threat to you would only increase when you agreed to marry him.

But things had been so peaceful, even with everything going on in the core, so you allowed yourself to believe that everything would be okay. You’ve always been good at lying to yourself.

You shift in the bed and focus your attention back on Howzer, your fingers gentle as they comb through his hair. He doesn’t even stir.

It’s a testament to just how stressed and tired he is. 

He stirs as your fingers fall to the scar on his cheek, and his pretty eyes flutter open, sleepiness vanishing in a heartbeat when he sees you sitting against the headboard.

“What’s wrong?”

And, despite the seriousness of the situation you’ve found yourself in, a smile lifts your lips. That’s your husband, always alert for any danger directed towards you. “Nothing,”

He sits up and shifts so that he’s leaning against the headboard as well, and then coaxes you into his arms. Something you’re only all too happy to do. You always feel safest when wrapped in his arms after all.

“Then why aren’t you sleeping?” 

“I was thinking.”

He pulls you so that you’re sitting on his lap, and one of his hands comes up to press against your cheek. Immediately you close your eyes and press your cheek against his hand, rubbing your cheek against his rough palm. 

“Are you considering staying here?” Howzer asks, his voice quiet.

“No, of course not.” You slide your arms around his neck, “My place, Howzer, is by your side. You know that.”

“I’m asking a lot from you, cyare.”

“You’re not asking anything that I won’t happily give.” You press your forehead against his, “I was thinking of the logistics of moving. About where to go and how to get there.”

“You don’t have to worry about that. I’m going to handle everything.”

You shake your head, “You don’t have to.”

“Yes. I do.”

He sounds so convinced of this, that you pull back to stare at him, “Howzer?”

“You…” he trails off, and then a small smile lifts his lips and he pulls you into a gentle kiss. “I love you, so much. You know that?”

You blink at him, “Well, I would hope so. You did marry me, after all.”

“I did. And it remains the smartest thing I’ve ever done in my life,” Howzer replies with a small smile, “And you…you’re the daughter of the Organa Family—”

“Distantly. I’m distantly related to the Organa family—” You remind him.

He ignores you, “And you came to Ryloth in the hopes to stop slavers from kidnapping the twi’leks and you set up a center to help former slaves adjust to being free,” Howzer trails off again, his expression soft as he looks at you, “You would have been well within your rights to tell me to go to hell when I asked you out. But you didn’t. You agreed. And kept agreeing.”

“You make it sound like it was a crazy thing,” You reply.

“It was a crazy thing. And it’s even crazier that you said yes when I asked you to marry me.” Howzer says with a grin, “But I’m asking you to abandon your life’s work. So let me take care of everything. Please.”

You sigh softly, “If you insist.”

“I do.” Howzer trails his lips down your face, “Assuming, of course, you choose to come with me.”

“You silly, silly man.” You shift on his lap so you’re straddling him, and press your hands against his cheeks, “I made my choice. Years ago. You’re my choice. No matter where you lead me.”

Howzer stares at you for a moment, and then he pulls you into a deep kiss. “I don’t deserve you.”

“Silly,” You reply against his lips, “I made that choice years ago too.”

@kimiheartblade

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[broidobe]

𝔟𝔦𝔯𝔱𝔥𝔡𝔞𝔶 𝔤𝔦𝔯𝔩

requested!

☾axl rose crashes your birthday party with a mini-concert, gets into a brawl with tommy hilfiger, and later makes up for the chaos with slow, passionate lovemaking that turns your anger into the best birthday gift ever.☽

☾warnings:smut, physical altercation, bruises/injuries, aggression, slightly possessive behavior, ☽

⁎⁺˳✧༚guns and roses masterlist

your birthday bash at the bar was shaping up to be one for the books. the room was buzzing with life—friends, drinks, music—all wrapped up in the glow of the celebration. but the real highlight? axl walking in like a rock 'n' roll angel sent to serenade you personally.

he performed a handful of songs just for you, his voice filling the bar like liquid fire, making you feel like the only person in the room. when he finished, you thanked him with the biggest smile, your heart still racing from the thrill of his impromptu mini-concert.

axl, being axl, gave you a wink and said something charming before wandering off to grab a drink. that’s when everything spiraled into chaos.

you were mid-conversation when a commotion by the bar caught your attention. turning around, you spotted axl nose-to-nose with none other than tommy hilfiger, of all people. the tension boiled over in seconds, and punches were thrown before the security team at your party stormed in, separating the two and escorting them out like misbehaving schoolboys.

"what the hell?" you muttered, already on your way outside.

you found axl standing near the curb, rubbing his jaw where tommy’s fist had landed. his expression shifted the moment he saw you—half guilty, half amused. without thinking, you ran up to him, jumping into his arms.

"you okay?" you asked, pressing kisses to the forming bruises on his face. your heart twisted at the sight of him hurt.

"i’m fine, babe," he assured you, holding you close.

you turned to glare in tommy’s direction. "hey, asshole!" you yelled, your voice shaking with anger. "you think you can just—"

"hey, hey," axl interrupted, spinning you back to face him. "he’s not worth it, okay? let it go."

"but—"

"no buts." his lips brushed against your temple. "you wanna take out your aggression, do it on me." his voice dropped to that low, gravelly tone that made your knees weak.

his suggestion sank in, and a wicked grin spread across your face. "you sure about that?"

he smirked, taking your hand. "i’ve never been more sure of anything."

the two of you slipped back into your place, where he led you straight to your bedroom. the atmosphere shifted, heavy with anticipation as he pulled you close.

"slow down," axl murmured when your hands roamed over him like you couldn’t get enough. "we’ve got all night."

"but—"

"shh," he silenced you with a kiss, his touch deliberate, almost maddeningly slow. "you’re not rushing this. not tonight."

he took his time, teaching you to savor every second as if he was reminding you that sometimes the best things in life can’t be hurried.

he guided you to the bed, his hands roaming over your skin, sending shivers down your spine. you felt like you were melting into his touch, your body arching towards him as he explored every curve. his lips brushed against your neck, sending a wave of pleasure through you.

"tonight," he whispered, his breath hot against your skin, "we're going to take it slow. we're going to savor every moment."

his words were like fuel to the fire burning inside you. you felt yourself getting lost in the sensation of his touch, your mind clouding over with desire. axl's hands were everywhere, teasing and tantalizing you, driving you crazy with need.

as he undressed you, his eyes never left yours. the air was thick with anticipation, and you could feel the weight of his gaze like a physical touch. he kissed you deeply, his tongue exploring your mouth as his hands continued their gentle assault on your senses.

you felt yourself getting swept up in the storm of passion that was axl rose. his touch was like nothing you'd ever experienced before - it was as if he knew exactly how to push your buttons, how to make you feel alive.

all that mattered was the two of you, lost in a sea of desire and passion. axl was everywhere, touching and teasing and driving you wild.

and when he finally entered you, it was like a dam had burst. the pleasure was overwhelming, a tidal wave that crashed over you and swept you away. you felt yourself crying out as he moved inside you, his hips thrusting slowly as he gazed into your eyes.

the connection between you was electric - it was as if your bodies were made for each other. every movement sent shockwaves through your system, every kiss igniting a new flame that burned brighter and hotter than before.

as time past, the intensity only grew. you felt yourself losing control completely - but instead of fear or anxiety by being overwhelmed by such intense sensations ,you found liberation in surrendering completely fully totally . it wasn't just about sex anymore; this went beyond mere physical connection – this transcended everything else & spoke directly soul-to-soul

and when finally you reached climax – bodies entwined hearts beating together souls intertwining into single inseparable unit - your love became one absolute truth neither of you could ever again deny nor ignore: that you belonged irrevocably eternally & unconditionally …to each other

by the time the two of you collapsed together, tangled in sheets and each other, you couldn’t stop smiling.

"best birthday present ever," you whispered against his chest.

axl chuckled softly, brushing a strand of hair from your face. "you’re not so bad yourself, birthday girl."

[jibbmanifests]

Debunking Law of Assumption Myths

I've learned a lot about manifestation and law of assumption over time. I've heard a lot of BS that didn't end up being true, so I'm writing a list as a reminder for all of us.

It's magic/hocus pocus - Nope. You can view it as your own kind of magic or magic powers of the universe (in a positive way), sure. But it's not something made up and you aren't putting spells on people or anything crazy like that. All you're doing is changing the way you see things in your own life and then the universe automatically reflects that. It's also been studied by philosophers like Neville Goddard. There's actual science involved with quantum leaping.

It's toxic positivity - Unless you're not allowing yourself to feel anything other than positive feelings, then no, LOA does not involve toxic positivity. Toxic positivity is trying to be overly positive in negative situations and pushing that onto others who are feeling down. When it comes to manifesting, you can allow yourself to feel upset and have doubts while still manifesting what you want. There's no rules saying things like, "you can't feel lousy or else you won't get your desires." You can feel down or be dealing with a massive struggle and still affirm or visualize that you have what you've been wanting. And, even so, you don't have to affirm as you're yelling or crying about something. It won't "cancel" your manifestation. We all waver at times - we're humans with emotions.

There's right and wrong techniques - No. The technique is not how you manifest. Let me explain. The purpose of trying a technique is to help you get into the state of "I have everything I desire" (state of wish fulfilled, as people in the community call it) and being in that state is how you end up manifesting. Some people don't even need to use a technique to get them into that state. They can subconsciously jump without having to try. But, everyone's mind works differently and some people can't get into or stay in that state without using a technique to help them get there. So, if you struggle to jump into or remain in that state of mind, find what technique helps you get there. Different ones resonate with different people. Remember: You are limitless. There's no "right" or "wrong" way to get to the wish fulfilled state. There's also no rules telling you what you can and can't do or else "you won't ever manifest."

It's a process and you have to wait - The action itself of manifesting is not a process. Getting to the state of wish fulfilled is a process if it's something you are struggling with. But once you are able to get into that state of mind, everything will come to you because you now know that you have it, and you continuously think, feel, and act that way. When you tell yourself you already have it, you don't have that worry of "it's going to take a lot of time" or "it's going to take [this long]." It'll happen naturally and quickly. So, don't think "I have to wait" and don't put pressure on yourself about timing. Once you get into the wish fulfilled state, it'll come together as quickly as possible. And if the 3D realm hasn't caught up to it just yet, be patient. It'll happen right before your eyes before you even know it.

You can't manifest multiple things at once - Wrong, yes you can manifest multiple things at once. It might take a lot of brain power or energy to think of multiple things at once (which is often why it's encouraged to focus on one manifestation at a time), but it is possible to. Doing techniques like writing a list of what you have and using multiple affirmations can help with that. Don't feel the need to limit yourself unless you don't feel okay focusing on multiple manifestations at a time.

You're just being delusional - Nope. You know what you have and you're putting it out there into the world. Growing up, other people will limit things you envision in your mind and things you want to be true. But, knowing what you desire and knowing that it's yours does mean it's yours.

How it happens has to make logical sense - No, it doesn't. A certain part of our brain will try to apply logic to how our manifestation will show up. You don't have to use logic or even think about how it's going to show up in the first place. The "how" never matters when it comes to manifestation. The only part you have to focus on is the state of already having the thing you want. There are an infinite number of ways something you manifest can show up. It's impossible to predict exactly how it's going to go. You can get an idea in your mind of "how it went," but it may happen differently, although there is the possibility it'll show up exactly how you want it to. You really don't know. But, all you have to know is that you have it and that it showed up for you in the best way possible.

Certain things are impossible to manifest - (CW: death, worldly issues). Well, this is an interesting one to explain because it feels very nuanced. This can be felt when it comes to manifesting someone back to life or solving a worldly issue (both touchy subjects, I know. I'm sorry. I'll explain.) These are things that affect many, many people and already physically happened. But, also, in another parallel reality, this hasn't happened or can be undone but we just aren't seeing it. Or particularly the person who passed can show up in a different way in our lives right now, whether it's through another person, a spirit, a physical item, etc. I'm sure people (other than just myself) have wondered about this subject and maybe it's been looked into. So please, feel free to add something to this topic or correct me if need be. I can admit that I'm still learning things. But, when thinking about smaller scale things than this, certain things we may think are impossible can in fact be possible. Like, this may sound silly, but what if unicorns are real? They could be existing on another planet far, far away for all we know. Scientists may have looked into horses developing magical horns and wings. It's impossible to know for sure. Or, what if our SP is thinking about us right now? It's not impossible. Sorry if this all sounds like a lot. It's just something I've pondered.

[batsplat]

On the one hand I definitely agree that Marc’s absence doesn’t take anything away from titles won but on the other I would absolutely understand if Joan and Fabio especially (Pecco less, I think… the bike… they all know about Honda beginning to fail, right? At some point ig you could say even a pre-Jerez Marc Marquez wouldn’t have ridden that to a championship and it is in Pecco’s best interest to put that point into 2022) would forever consider their titles borrowed off “luck” because I also think everyone ASSUMING if Jerez didn’t happen, Marc would have won 2020 and likely also 2021 isn’t exactly wrong. He won 3 whole races in 2021 (however he did that), that’s more than anyone else but Pecco and Fabio who finished second and first… as Max said, if is a stupid concept in sport, but the if in question is not a regular “if”, and the whole grid knows it. Hell, we are all aware that had Jerez been simply milder instead of the horror it became, Marc’s achievements would look different at this time… So that’s definitely very interesting to me, that any winning done in Marc’s continued absence from the top seems asterisked by the riders’ own attitudes. That him being on that Ducati this year helps, even a little, to alleviate a bitterness that seemed settled whenever he missed a race. It’s a true win only if you beat Marquez, because Marquez is the one to beat. I wonder if that’s what 2010 felt like to the then-grid, when Vale broke his leg… that winning didn’t even count properly, bc Valentino was not there to make it real.

yeah, listen, if marc had been uninjured in 2020, he would have won the title. I'm not arguing that bit, I'm saying it doesn't matter. marc's injury wasn't some kind of freak accident... it was unfortunate, but it was also unsurprising, and his comeback going wrong even more so. this is what you have to remember about sports but especially motorcycle racing: you are placing heavy demands on your body, and sometimes the excess demands are directly correlated to your success. in this post, there's some quotes from 2019 about how 'lucky' marc is... because he was crashing so so much outside of races to find the limit of the bike - and yet it didn't hurt his results (obviously he was still injured a lot, yearly off-season surgeries and all that). this was part of his approach and it was obviously a very successful one. and in some ways it is also one that was necessitated by the characteristics of that honda, which at this stage only he could tame... but it is true that if a lot of other riders crashed at that rate, they would've been considerably worse off, and it was a part of the process that allowed him to be so successful. and it did already make a lot of people very uneasy at the time, because it felt like eventually it just... had to go wrong. it's also worth noting that... yes, marc's achievements would look different if the injury hadn't been that bad. but the initial injury wasn't 'that bad' relatively speaking - it was his decision to come back that really fucked him over. I strongly believe he shouldn't have been allowed to race, but it was still his decision, and it was part of a tradition of ridiculously fast injury comebacks that had also helped make him so successful in past years (though fwiw this one immediately felt like a bad idea, zero hindsight needed I promise you). so let's put it like this: if you keep putting your body under incredible strain even by motogp standards to reach the level of success you do, and eventually your luck runs out, eventually you land badly on the wrong side of the risk/reward calculation... then how is it fair to say your competitors should be handed asterisks in your absence?

in 2018-19 everybody (including valentino) expected that marc would surpass valentino's titles. few expected him to last at the top of the sport for as long as valentino did. valentino during his prime crashed far far more rarely than marc did and was battering his body considerably less... for marc, there was always the question of how long this could last. he was punishing his body for his particular brand of brilliance, but this always had to be a trade-off. it wouldn't have been surprising if his career had ended through injury, though of course how 2020 played out still ended up being a shock. but!! at the end of the day, even without marc's particularly risky style of racing, you wouldn't need an asterisk. the comparison to 2010 is an interesting one, because you can tell that jorge was at times extremely eager and determined to stress that he wasn't just benefiting from valentino's absence. in the dorna-produced docu for his title, he emphasises that he was already leading the points when valentino broke his leg at the fourth race of the season... which is true, but a) valentino also wasn't leading the championship in the early stages of the two previous years either, and b) valentino was already managing injury. the eruption of that icelandic volcano meant motegi had to be rescheduled, which gave valentino the opportunity to go and get his shoulder injured in a motocross accident (again, for the question of training risk/reward see the post I linked to above). it was this injury that quite probably caused the next one... and troubled him more in late 2010 and early 2011 than the leg did. it also set off the chain of events that allowed jorge to gain ascendancy internally in yamaha, which is part of the reason why valentino decided to go to ducati and essentially took himself out of title contention for... well, two ducati years, and another year where he still wasn't quite up to speed on the yamaha. stop the volcano from erupting and motogp quite plausibly looks very different for the next few years

the question of whether valentino wins the 2010 title without injury is far more open than whether marc would've won 2020, but at worst you have to call it about 50/50 - and even with the troublesome shoulder valentino was getting the better of their actual wheel-to-wheel fights in late 2010. so that title fight too was severely influenced by one rider's bad luck, one that you can't even trace back to a particularly risky riding style... but on the other hand, eventually everyone's luck runs out, and valentino had been relatively lucky for a long time. he was also getting older, which in itself will affect recovery time. this is how athletes' competitive life cycles go, right - yes, you might lose your physical edge, yes, you might struggle to find the same fire, but you have also demanded a lot from your body for a very long time and eventually you pay the price. eventually, every athlete's era has to end... and unfortunately in grand prix motorcycle racing, a lot of the time that era ends with injury. schwantz and rainey were long-time rivals, with rainey winning three consecutive titles at the start of the nineties. in 1993, they were again locked in a title fight - until rainey crashed and was left in a wheelchair, his career ended and the title handed to schwantz. that was schwantz's only title, but he's still considered one of the greats of the sport. doohan and criville were teammates when doohan was dominant, and it took doohan's career-ending injury during the third race of the 1999 season for crivi to finally win the title. kenny roberts jr won the title in the following season in what was a chaotic year not dissimilar to 2020... from the young star who wasn't quite ready to put together a title charge to the underdogs at suzuki eventually claiming the big prize. this is how it goes... what a champion needs on their side as much as anything else is luck. jorge wasn't crashing as much as marc was in 2013, and yet somehow he ended up with the broken collarbone at assen that severely damaged his title chances - because sometimes, it only takes one crash for it all to go wrong. does that mean marc is an undeserving title winner in 2013? of course it doesn't!

in the case of 2020, when it became increasingly clear marc would not be winning this title, it's not like everyone's minds immediately went to mir. the favourites were dovi, fabio, vinales... the thing is, right, it was an absolute mess of a season (that was also of course seriously impacted by the pandemic), but someone had to be the one to take advantage. the suzuki was a well-settled package and mir after a strong rookie season was the one to put in the consistent results to claim the title. he was already highly rated going into motogp, and he was absolutely seen as a potential star of the future. for his sake and his reputation within the sport, of course it would've been preferable to win a more emphatic title... and in some ways, his 2021 on a lagging suzuki is more impressive than the 2020 title. it's an incredible shame how his career has gone since then, mostly not through his own fault, and you still want to hope he'll have the opportunity to dispel a few more doubts - both from the fans and quite possibly himself. then again, hayden won two races in 2006, kenny roberts jr three in 2000... at the end of the day, the main thing new fans know now is that they were champions, and so it will one day be for mir too. moving on to 2021, it's worth remembering that by then the honda was already a bad bike. yes, marc would undoubtedly have been the title favourite - but two of his three wins that year were at his specialist circuits that also still suited the honda, basically the places where he could win with his eyes closed. at the very least, you have to believe 2021 would have had a proper title fight and wouldn't just have been a stroll in the park for marc - yes, quite probably he would have prevailed anyway, but it's really not so cut and dry

THAT BEING SAID. I do agree with much of this ask! it is interesting that it's asterisked in the riders' minds! but it shouldn't be - that's the devil talking, you need to stand up for yourself and ignore all the doubters and get on with it. jorge had enough self confidence and stubborn belief in his own ability that this discourse in 2010 did nothing but piss him off. in 2007, casey was incredibly sick of people talking down his title because of how good the ducati was that year and the tyre difference between him and valentino. yes, casey was on the better package that year, and valentino did clearly benefit from switching tyres in 2008. does that in any way detract from casey's title? no! it doesn't!! he was right to be annoyed - imbalances are part of the game, and casey was very good that year. he deserved that title! valentino also faced the bike merchant allegations in spades of course, but young champions are particularly vulnerable to this kind of discourse. they're less established in the sport, more likely to attract detractors who are determined to prove they can't live up to the legends of the past... after 2006, everybody more or less agreed that it was a bit of a lucky title, but hayden was so popular and people were so pleased for him that it was just treated as a feel-good story - which it wasn't in the same way with surly young casey. no matter! who cares what people think! if your opponent has a bad day, you need to take the opportunity presented to you and press home the advantage. if your opponent has a bad year, even better. no sitting around worrying whether history is going to take your accomplishments seriously... it's like hayden said at assen 2006 when valentino broke his right hand and left ankle. from the oxley reference book: '[valentino] finished the race in eighth, which put him 46 points behind hayden. "when that rossi guy is down, you gotta jump on him!" he grinned'. brutal, but that's the game

also, I'll say it: I reckon both joan and fabio have probably had their fair share of bad luck to compensate by now. enough

[bunnyboy-juice]

honestly. being able to be honest with my loved ones about when i am Mentally Unwell but also Dont Want To Talk About It has done wonders for my mental health

[capetowncapers]

I’ll have days where I’m like no I’m overthinking the fatigue shit and then I’ll have days where my brain fog is so bad that I can barely process words on a page in front of me and my thoughts feel like they’re moving through a thick soup and I want to cry…. I fucking Need to make myself go to the doctor and get more tests done or something bc it’s annoying but so is trying to function like this.

[loverboybrightsideghost]

god i love being a musician

[dontbenicetome]

Ask game: List 5 things that make you happy, then put this in the ask box of the last 10 people who liked or reblogged something from you! 😊

1. My Sobriety - if you had asked me 3+ months ago if I would ever be able to stop drinking, I would have told you “no, I plan to die this way,” and that was my mindset for four hard years after my mother passed away. I can very happily say today that I am 3 months and 6 days free from that devil in the bottle! Anything is possible! 🌻

2. My Friends - without whom I would not have taken the first step on my journey to sobriety. Without whom I would not be where I am today. Without whom I would not be the fuller, happier version of me who continues to grow and change every day. I love my friends, and they love me! 🥰

3. My Family - well, half of. My father’s side of the family have been the most supportive and loving people in my life besides the family I have found. 🫂

4. My Cats - I don’t think I need to expound on this one. Fuzzy babies make everything better! 🐈‍⬛🐈

5. Myself - I’m hella smart and funny as fuck even if I rbf my way through most of my days. I’m also the loveyest person you’ll ever meet if you give me the chance. ALL THE GIFTS AND CONSIDERATE BEHAVIOR BE UPON YE! 💖

*BONUS CONTENT*

6. My Job - I know my bosses have my back and I’ve got theirs. I am acknowledged and rewarded for my hard work. Plus my crush works there, so 🤭

[amey-winehouse]

[lowkeyren]

in which : alhaitham speaks to you in 5 different languages, unaware that you understand every word he says.

wc 7.3k (pls give it a chance lol), academic rivals to lovers, unrequited hate, attempt at humor, college au, denial + pinning.. crazy ik, he falls first (and harder), tw stalking by a drunkard, a genius on paper but a total dumbass when it comes to crushes, lil smau at the end!, ft. sumeru gang. art by @/gamegatchihaja on x.

ps. translations ay nasa maliliit na titik, katulad neto!! ps. translations will be in small letters, like this!!

PROLOGUE: GOD I HATE THIS GUY! (DOES HE THINK IM STUPID?)

the semester is nearing its conclusion, and the imminent approach of finals marks the most critical period of the year; students rush through the halls, clutching their notes and textbooks like lifelines, while you pour every ounce of effort into your studies —not just for your grades, but also to surpass a certain arrogant scholar. 

alhaitham. 

the name tastes like spoiled milk on your tongue, a sour reminder of all the times he’s bested you, even if it’s just by a small margin, leaving you dumbfounded when the difference between your marks during the last exam was a mere 1%. 

you were groveling in front of your professor, “please, just round the marks up?” you could practically feel your dignity slipping away. and the worst part? you were so desperate that you started mentally calculating how many odd jobs you’d be willing to do just to sweeten the deal. 

(maybe you’ll help organize the office, run around the campus to buy him drinks every day, or even wipe down the windows of his car…)

disclaimer: he ultimately said no, but he did compliment your impeccable taste in coffee so, a win is a win? 

anyhow, alhaitham’s nonchalance only adds to your frustration, especially when he switches to a different language mid-conversation. it feels like he’s rubbing salt in your wounds, why of course you can understand him perfectly —after all, you aren’t majoring in linguistics for no reason, plus he's not the only one who’s fluent in multiple languages.

though you keep that to yourself, perhaps because the things he says in those languages, which he assumes you don’t understand, are far from innocent, unknowingly letting you have a glimpse into his true feelings. 

ACT I: WHOLEHEARTEDLY, I DETEST YOU. 

alhaitham would never fall in love —such irrational and illogical emotions held no value to him. 

that was what he always believed, but then he saw you. 

the way you laughed so unapologetically at cyno’s jokes, how you always stood firm by your beliefs, your refusal to compromise who you are; you were a breath of fresh air in a world that often felt stifling.

as much as he tries to act unfazed, he can't help the heat prickling his skin nor the way his composure falters just slightly in your presence. and when his heart raced for the first time in what felt like forever, he knew —he was completely, utterly screwed.

(“fix me, kaveh.” / “hah. who do you think i am, ‘y/n’?”)

when kaveh told him that he just had a simple “crush”, he nearly rolled his eyes so hard he thought they might get stuck there permanently.)

likewise, this ugly arrogant handsome bastard here, is one you’ll never fall in love with. 

he’s infuriating, completely insufferable, and yet there’s something about him, something hidden beneath that arrogance, that draws you in. the idea that you could ever fall for someone like him seems laughable, impossible even. he's exactly the kind of person you should avoid and you know better than to be charmed by someone like him. yet, there's that nagging feeling, deep down, that perhaps you’re not as immune to him as you think.

by some stroke of luck, you’re in the same major, same year, and even enrolled in the same lecture periods, which means you end up in the same place at the same time more often than not.

but you can’t deny that, in some twisted way, you admire him. his intellect is beyond impressive, even if it annoys you to admit it. so surely, in his eyes, you’re still inferior, and you often wonder if he even considers your ideas as worthy of attention.

(they are.)

ACT II: YOUR WATCHFUL EYES, I CAN’T IGNORE.

your pen glides across the pages as you jot down notes, fully absorbed in your studies, barely registering the faint sound of distant chatter.

unbeknownst to you, a group of students has gathered just outside the lecture hall, peeking in from the door with curious, amused expressions. they’re clearly there for you, exchanging glances and murmurs, waiting for the moment you step outside.

you don’t notice, but alhaitham, seated a few feet away, certainly does.

his eyes narrow slightly as he takes in the scene. he doesn’t say anything at first, but his jaw clenches ever so subtly. as you begin to pack up, you glance up to find him standing in front of you, his tall figure effectively blocking the group outside’s direct line of sight to you.

with a discreet glance over his shoulder, he shoots them a cold, unmistakable glare. they visibly shudder, seemingly getting the message as they awkwardly shuffle away. 

“what was that about?”

alhaitham leans against your desk, “nothing important,” his tone is dismissive, laced with irritation, his gaze still fixed on the now-empty doorway. 

you narrow your eyes, unimpressed. “really? you just scared them off for no reason?”

“just getting rid of some… distractions,” he says casually, turning his attention back towards you. you raise an eyebrow, clearly not believing his words. “distractions? they weren’t bothering me.” 

his expression remains impassive, “khi họ cứ để ý đến em như vậy… em thấy không phiền, còn tôi thì có.” “seeing them constantly paying attention to you… you're not bothered by it, but i am.”

“bởi vì cái cách mà em chú tâm hoàn toàn vào một việc gì đó…  nó quyến rũ vô cùng.” because the way you completely focus on something… is truly mesmerising.

you blink, feeling a momentary flush of confusion and surprise at the words slipping from his mouth. did he just—? but before you can fully process it, he continues.

“vậy nên tôi cũng không thể trách họ khi họ muốn nhìn em gần và lâu hơn được.” so i don’t blame them when they want to look at you closer and longer.

his words linger in the air, a moment passes before it clicks —he doesn’t think you understand. that’s why he’s speaking so… freely; letting slip things he’d never say outright in a language you both speak fluently.

“nhưng mà… chắc không ai trong số bọn họ có thể sánh ngang với tôi, em nhỉ?” but… none of them can compare to me, right?

your chest tightens as a surge of warmth courses through you. 

his detached attitude only fuels your irritation. but there’s also a certain satisfaction in knowing something he doesn’t: you’ve understood every single word he’s said.

feigning ignorance, you raise an eyebrow, meeting his gaze with what you hope is a neutral expression. "what are you going on about?" you ask.

his expression remains as stoic as ever, not a single crack in his mask. he simply shrugs, eyes still on you, "just telling you to focus more.”

your grip on the pen tightens, there's a part of you that wants to wipe that smug look off his face, to show him you're not as clueless as he assumes. but not yet —you’re curious to see just how far he’s willing to push.

"right," you mutter under your breath, tapping the pen against your notebook. "focus. got it."

he leans down slightly, one arm resting on the back of your chair while the other presses against the table, effectively caging you in.

"you're wasting time, finals are coming up." he takes a brief pause before continuing, "i wish you the best of luck, you’ll need it.”

your eyes snap up to him in a glare, “don’t you have somewhere to be?" you bite back.

alhaitham straightens, giving you a final glance before turning towards the door. “naturally, i have studying to do.”

“bởi vì tôi sẽ chứng minh cho em thấy rằng chỉ có tôi mới xứng tầm làm đối thủ học thuật của em, không một ai khác.” because i will prove to you that only i am worthy of being your rival, no one else.

why did he frame it as if it’s a privilege only he can claim? or is he trying to… flatter you?!

you shake your head, no way, that’s ridiculous. finals are coming up, there’s no time to dwell on whatever mind games he’s playing. though if the almighty alhaitham wants a rival, then you’ll show him exactly what it means to stand at the pinnacle.

ACT III: IN MY DREAMS, I SCORED HIGHER THAN YOU.

you’re tired, the kind of tired that seeps deep into your bones. every blink stretches longer than the last and you find it increasingly difficult to focus on the words in front of you. stifling a yawn, you feel the pull of sleep tugging at you, whispering sweet promises of rest.

there’s still time till your next class.

maybe you'll take a moment to close your eyes, just for a few seconds…

did you not get enough sleep last night, or did you stay up late studying again? alhaitham watches silently from across the room, his eyes narrowing as your head droops lower, your exhaustion becoming painfully obvious with each passing second. his gaze lingers on the way your pen pauses mid-sentence, the line on your notebook trailing off as your hand grows heavy.

he pushes himself up from his seat, and approaches your desk; he notices the sunlight streaming through the window, harsh and unrelenting, hitting right over the table where you’re sitting. he looks at you —eyes closed, with the faintest crease of discomfort on your brow.

without a word, he reaches out and slips the pen from your grip, the slight shift causing your fingers to twitch, but you don’t wake. 

for a fleeting second, he considers waking you. but then, as you shift again, settling more comfortably into your chair, he decides against it. what good would that do, anyway? you’d probably just brush him off and keep going until you collapse from sheer fatigue. typical.

instead, he adjusts his stance slightly, positioning himself just right to make sure the sunlight is fully blocked from your face, casting you in a cool shadow. 

you mumble something incoherent, and he can’t help but roll his eyes at your state. did you really think burning yourself out like this would help you focus?

“stubborn,” he mutters under his breath. 

you're always like this, pushing yourself past your limits, and while part of him respects your determination to outdo him, he won’t allow it to come at the expense of your health.

you stir from your slumber, lifting your head, your gaze lands on a familiar figure standing to the side of your table. his back turned, facing the sunlight that streams in from the window. 

alhaitham. 

he’s close, so close that his broad shoulders completely block out the sunlight from the window. the sight sends a rush of confusion through your already sleep-addled mind. did he… stand there the whole time? why? 

you shift slightly in your seat, your movement catching his attention. without turning, he speaks in that low, steady tone of his, “you’re awake.”

“alhaitham?” you murmur, your voice still thick with sleep.

he glances over his shoulder, just enough for you to catch a glimpse of the calm expression on his face. “you’ve been out for a while,” he comments, a hint of amusement in his voice. “i was starting to think you’d sleep through your next class.”

you rub the sleep from your eyes, “why didn’t you wake me up then?”

his shoulders shift slightly as he shrugs, still facing away from you. “you looked like you needed the rest. besides, it’s more entertaining to see how long you’d stay asleep.”

a flicker of annoyance courses through you as you roll your eyes, “oh, so you mean you care?”

he turns slightly, and you can see a hint of a smirk on his lips. “don’t read too much into it. i just prefer my competition functioning at their best.”

you wish you could roll your eyes harder because this man has an uncanny talent for grating on your nerves while somehow being insufferably charming at the same time.

“ah yes —because you need me to keep up with you,” you remark sarcastically.

“exactly.” you let out an exasperated sigh as you lean back in your chair. “you really think so highly of yourself, don’t you?”

“mushiro, kimi no koto o hijō ni takaku hyōka shiteiru yo.” if anything, i think highly of you. 

your brows knit together in surprise, and you can’t help but scoff. “what was that? i didn't catch it.”

“i said i won’t go easy on you.” oh, the audacity. he’s lying again, and he knows it.

the corners of your mouth twitch in disbelief as you scrutinise his expression. there’s that familiar glimmer in his eyes, a spark of mischief that tells you he’s enjoying this too much.

“whatever,” you retort, crossing your arms defiantly. “not like i want you to anyway.”

despite your words, you can't deny that his actions earlier were surprisingly endearing. you wonder how long he intends to keep this up. perhaps it’s time you let him know.

“ii ne, kimi ga iraira shite iru toki wa kawaiikara.” good, because you’re cute when you’re all riled up.

you feel a blush creep into your cheeks at his words, okay maybe you shouldn’t let him know. you instinctively look away, as if avoiding his gaze can help you regain your composure.

cute? what does he mean “cute”?! he thinks he can get away with calling you cute —well… well, there’s not much you can do about it, you’re not ready to confront him about this either.

the mere thought of asking him directly makes your stomach twist with a year’s worth of embarrassment. yet, as you try to refocus on the book in front of you, you find yourself biting your lip, struggling to suppress a smile that threatens to break free.

ACT IV: I WOKE UP TODAY, AND A DREAM CAME TRUE.

the hallway buzzes with excitement as students gather around the large announcement board, eager to see the results of their theses. you push through the crowd, heart pounding, the low hum of chatter filling your ears. 

when you reach the front, you quickly scan the list; the moment your eyes land on your name, your breath catches in your throat.

there it is, in bold red ink at the top of the board —a score higher than you’d ever hoped for, higher than his. and your name, on top of his.

alhaitham.

you glance over and spot him approaching the board, approaching you. his expression is, as always, unreadable. but you know him well enough by now to catch the slight pause in his movements, the brief moment where his eyes linger just a second too long on the board.

you try not to think too much about it as you collect your thesis, with alhaitham following closely behind, his fingers nearly grazing yours as you both sift through the stack of papers on the table.

you take in the glowing praise from your professor, each word making you feel like every all-nighter was worth it. you clutch the paper, resisting the urge to grin like an idiot. 

glancing sideways, you wait for him to say something, maybe some backhanded comment, but he remains silent. your eyes meet, and there’s a shift in his gaze as the usual sharpness in his eyes dulls ever so slightly, your smile lingering like the first light of dawn breaking through the night's embrace.

it’s subtle —just a flicker —but you catch how his gaze falters, softening, if only for a heartbeat. the edges of his stare blur, drawn to the warmth of your expression as though it’s something he hadn’t meant to witness, yet can’t look away from. 

at this moment,

"looks like i finally beat you," you say, not bothering to suppress the grin spreading across your face now.

he feels like

there’s no scowl, no sign of frustration —just the slightest raise of an eyebrow. “hmm. by a point.” he pauses, studying you for a second longer than necessary before returning his gaze to his paper. “enjoy it while it lasts.”

he's in heaven.

it’s as if he’s not bothered by the outcome at all. in fact, if anything, he seems... satisfied?

"hindi dapat ganito kalala ang epekto ng ngiti mo sa akin." your smile shouldn't affect me this badly.

“—huh?” your mouth drops slightly open at his words; out of everything, you didn’t expect him to say that. it catches you off guard, making your heart race just a little faster. if you peer closely enough, you might catch a glimpse of the gentle arch of his lips, a ghost of a smile. 

the silence stretches on for a beat too long before he clears his throat and shifts his gaze away from you. “ang iyong ngiti ang pinakamagandang tanawin ng aking araw.”

your smile is the most beautiful sight of my day.

“what?” the word slips from your lips, barely a breath, a soft gasp that hangs in the air. it feels almost surreal and you wonder if you’ve misheard him.

each heartbeat thunders in your ears, a rhythm that matches the erratic flutter in your chest. why is he saying these things, what for in a different language…? there’s no way that he—

"—tulad mo na ang hinangad ko na ligawan, ngunit sa bawat ngiti mo, halip ay mas lalo akong nahulog para sayo." —like you, who i wish to court, but with every smile, i instead found myself falling for you. 

your breath hitches as your heart stumbles, the implications of his words washing over you like a wave. a rush of heat floods your cheeks, “what… did you say?”

his shoulders stiffen, and there’s a subtle tension in the way his fingers curl against the paper he’s holding. “see you tomorrow, [name],” he mutters, his voice low but hurried, and before you know it, he’s already walking away.

two strange things happened today: 

1. you finally beat your sworn enemy! 2. said enemy… complimented you? 

huh, it’s as if the words slipped out before he could catch them, as if he’s been holding them in for far too long, as if… you notice the way his neck reddens, even as he turns away.

behind the door, alhaitham lets out a quiet breath.

“gago… nagkamali ba ako?” stupid… did i make a mistake?

to his dismay, an annoyingly familiar voice cuts through the silence. kaveh, who had been waiting just down the hall, notices him standing there, a little too still. 

“oh, what do we have here?" there's a slight pause, followed by a raised eyebrow. "is that—no way, your face is red!” kaveh teases, amusement dancing in his eyes. “what happened there?" he leans in, clearly enjoying himself. "come on, spill the tea..!” 

"not a chance," alhaitham retorts, rolling his eyes and crossing his arms defensively.

just then, kaveh spots cyno and tighnari; grinning, he waves them over. “what’s going on? did alhaitham finally crack under pressure?”

alhaitham would rather reorganise the entire library than listen to kaveh recount what happened.

“i’m leaving.” 

"no, i'm afraid you're not getting out of this one.” cyno steps forward, blocking alhaitham’s path; and tighnari, who has been quietly observing till now, chimes in, “don’t leave us hanging.”

“you’re outnumbered.” 

alhaitham sighs and shakes his head. he hadn’t even thought it was physically possible for him, of all people, to do something as ridiculous as blushing —until today.

(on the other side of the door, their banter echoes through, and you can’t help but chuckle to yourself at alhaitham’s misery.)

ACT V: PLAUSIBLE DENIABILITY, YOU SAY? BUT EVERYONE CALLS IT FLIRTING.

“i think alhaitham likes [name].”

the whole table falls silent before kaveh dramatically slams his glass down on the table, causing a splash of alcohol to spill over the edge. “oh finally, it’s so obvious! have you all seen the way he looks at them?” 

across the table, tighnari taps his fingers absentmindedly on his notebook, his attention only half on kaveh’s (incoming) rant but clearly invested enough, as shown by the slight twitching of his ears, to be listening. 

cyno snickers, “you’re telling me the man who can dissect any philosophical argument can’t handle a little crush? that’s rich.”

kaveh waves a hand dismissively. “come on! remember that time they were partnered up for a project? he was so... uncharacteristically patient! i’d almost say it’s cute if it weren’t alhaitham we’re talking about!”

right, it’d be almost endearing —if it weren’t coming from the most stoic, intimidatingly aloof guy in the entire school. it’d be adorable —if it weren’t alhaitham, who instinctively covers the corner of your table with his hand when you drop your pencil, ensuring you won’t hit your head as you bend down to retrieve it.

oh, you don’t notice (of course not). but your friend dehya, sitting nearby, catches the whole scene out of the corner of her eye. she raises an eyebrow, nudging the girl beside her. 

(“candace, do you see that shit.” / “yeah.”)

“a soft spot for [name], you say? well, i’ve got a story of my own, too.” cyno glances around, ensuring no one else is within earshot, then lowers his voice conspiratorially.  “have you noticed? he doesn’t wear his earphones when he’s around them.”

kaveh pipes up, nodding eagerly.

“he’s got those earphones practically glued to his head, he doesn’t hear anything he doesn’t want to, and he certainly doesn’t talk unless he’s forced to. but around them?” cyno pauses, pretending to think for a while. “not once. he’ll put them away entirely, like he’s actually willing to be… present.”

sure it’s small, subtle, the kind of habit no one would pick up on unless they were looking closely. but to anyone who knew alhaitham well, it tells them more than words ever could. 

for him, actions speak louder than words, even if he often doesn’t realise the meaning behind his own gestures.

his earphones slide down, resting forgotten around his neck, all so he can be close enough to catch the delightful lilt of your laughter. his chair inches a fraction closer, seemingly by accident. a subtle upward twitch at the corner of his mouth, so fleeting and often passing so quickly if one weren’t paying attention.

for him, it’s a language without words.

dehya laughs softly. "for someone who supposedly ‘doesn’t like being bothered,’ he sure seems invested in whatever [name] has to say."

and what sealed their suspicions? 

definitely the time when kaveh complimented nilou’s new bracelet. he glanced over at the man beside him, nudging him lightly. “what do you think?”

alhaitham gave the bracelet a cursory glance, before replying, “it’s nice.” though his gaze flickered back; and almost absently, he added after a pause, “[name] has the same one too.”

oh… oh? well that was oddly specific. kaveh’s eyebrow quirked as he fought to suppress a grin.

alhaitham had noticed a detail seemingly insignificant about [name] —the kind of thing he never cared to show the slightest interest in when it came to anyone else.

the glint in nilou’s eyes seemed to mirror kaveh’s unspoken thoughts, silently agreeing with his suspicions.  

now they’re certain —100% sure, in fact —that alhaitham has a crush on you.

“well, speak of the devil… lovely seeing you here, alhaitham,” kaveh quips. tighnari, ever observant, gives him a pointed look. “your jacket’s missing.”

“someone took it,” alhaitham replies, his tone as composed as always, giving nothing away.

—nothing until you walked past. draped over your shoulders, unmistakable, is alhaitham’s jacket. you don’t notice the way every pair of eyes follows you, or the way kaveh barely stifles a triumphant laugh.

...make that 110%.

(translation: he means he borrowed his jacket because [name] was cold.)

ACT VI: IT’S YOU, WHO COMES TO MY RESCUE. 

the quiet night hangs heavy, the road empty and bathed in the dim glow of distant streetlights. you weave through the streets, but no matter how many twists and turns you take, that weirdo just won’t leave you alone.  

he’s been trailing behind you for blocks now, his persistence grating on your nerves, cornering you with endless “compliments” and invasive questions. you’ve tried to shake him off, but his determination far exceeds your patience.

"come on, just give me a chance," he insists, stepping closer, a little too close for comfort. you take a step back. the smell of alcohol reeks from his breath, and his grin is making your skin crawl. 

"i told you, i’m not interested," you say firmly, keeping your voice steady, but the panic was starting to creep in. you glance at the empty bottle in his hand —he’s definitely drunk out his mind.

“you sure?" he completely ignores your clear discomfort. "how about you just give me your number, yeah?" he slurs out.

"no, i have a boyfriend." you lie through your teeth, hoping that would be enough to make him back off.

unfortunately, he’s as insufferable as he is persistent.

he snorts dismissively, "yeah, right. a boyfriend? you’re just playing hard to get."

you sigh, you aren’t in the mood for this, not here, not now, and especially not with someone like him. "i already told you, i have a boyfriend," your voice now tinged with frustration. "so please, just leave me alone.”

"oh, don't be like that," he steps in front of you, blocking your way. "prove it. call your boyfriend. show me you’re not lying."

your heart races as the man reaches out for you, dodging his hand, you take the chance to look behind him for an escape. just then, you see an all-too-familiar figure in the distance. 

alhaitham. 

you barely manage to suppress a relieved sigh as you wave frantically in his direction. he spots you almost immediately and without hesitation, he rushes over.

"what, this your boyfriend?" the guy sneers with derision, still sounding a little too cocky for someone who was about to get a reality check.

alhaitham steps beside you, you can feel his eyes on you for just a brief moment, the faintest flicker of worry flashing across his face. it’s subtle, almost imperceptible, but you catch it—and it makes your chest tighten.

his voice is low, unmistakably carrying a warning, "yes, i’m their boyfriend. and if you don’t want things to escalate, i suggest you leave." 

the man’s face twists as anger flares in his bloodshot eyes. he takes a step forward, his grip tightening around the neck of the bottle, the glass slightly cracking. "you think you can tell me what to do?" he slurs, gaze wild and unfocused. “y-you think you’re some kind of saviour? *hic* a-and you! how… how dare you reject me?!”

alhaitham doesn’t move, his expression cold and unbothered, and that only seems to make the man angrier. his frustration boils over, and with a snarl, he clumsily swings the bottle in his hand, aggressively lurching towards your direction. 

the world seems to slow for a moment. though before you can even react, alhaitham pulls you firmly behind him with one swift motion, his other arm instinctively rising to shield the both of you from the blow. the sound of glass meeting his forearm is sharp and jarring —you can hear the high-pitched tinkle of glass scattering, the jagged shards bouncing off the pavement, and some skittering across the ground.

but he doesn’t even flinch, his stance unwavering as the man stumbles back, glass crunching underfoot. you’re still frozen from shock, your heart racing in your chest as you watch the scene unfold. 

“big mistake,” he starts, and the man visibly falters. “harassment, assault —keep this up, and you’ll regret every choice that brought you here tonight.”

the man shifts around, clearly disoriented. his eyes dart between you and alhaitham, but it’s clear that the fight’s already left him. “you— you can’t do this!” the man stammers, trying to regain some semblance of courage; unfortunately for him, the tremor in his voice is unmistakable. 

“do you really want to find out?” alhaitham asks, to which the man shakes his head vigorously. “get lost,” he mutters. the man, looking more pathetic than threatening now, quickly stumbles away, mumbling incoherent curses under his breath.

you’re breathless, still clutching the edge of his jacket, fingers trembling slightly as the adrenaline courses through you. 

"are you alright?"

you nod, forcing a small, unconvincing smile."yeah... i’m fine. thanks to you." 

alhaitham’s eyes narrow slightly, scanning you for any sign of injury. you follow his gaze instinctively, glancing down at yourself. that’s when you notice it —not on you, but on him.

streaks of red stain his forearm, where jagged shards of glass must have cut him during the confrontation. the gash bleeds steadily, a dark line of blood seeping through the fabric of his jacket.

"wait," you breathe, your heart sinking. "you're bleeding."

your stomach twists with guilt.

"why didn’t you say anything?" you exclaim.

he shakes his head, a dismissive gesture that does nothing to ease the knot forming in your stomach. "it’s nothing," he says, but the slight furrow in his brow and the tension in his jaw betray his words.

"nothing?" you fix him with a hard glare. "idiot… you just blocked a glass bottle with your arm, don’t try to downplay this."  

you grab his sleeve, tugging it gently but firmly, the fabric sliding beneath your fingers as you pull it up. “—and unless you think an infection is ‘nothing’, you’ll let me take care of this."  

"hold still," you murmur as you settle beside him on the couch, your supplies spread across the coffee table in front of you.

the scent of antiseptic fills the air as you take a disinfectant wipe and gently dab it against the gash. the sting of the alcohol makes him flinch slightly, but he doesn’t pull away. you mutter a soft apology, your movements slow and deliberate as you try to be as gentle as you can.

you open a tube of ointment, squeezing a small amount onto your finger before smoothing it carefully along the edges of the cut. the cool gel glides over his skin, and you can feel the tension in his arm ease ever so slightly under your touch.

“nǐ zhème guān xīn wǒ, huì ràng wǒ wù huì de.” if you care so much about me, i might misunderstand you.

your fingers pause briefly, the words catching you off guard. you glance up at him, but he only averts his gaze, his eyes remaining fixed on a distant spot beyond the room.

misunderstand? misunderstand what, exactly?

the bandage wraps securely around his arm as you smooth it into place. as you tuck the end of the bandage, his voice comes again, just as soft, but no less clear. 

“—wù huì nǐ duì wǒ yǒu gǎn jué.” "—misunderstand that you have feelings for me."

your brain short-circuits, and in your shock, your hands jerk. in turn, the bandage tightens way too much, causing him to wince and tense up. before you can apologise, he lets out a light chuckle. “suǒ yǐ nǐ dān xīn wǒ… nǐ shì bù shì gù yì ràng rén xīn dòng de?” “so you're worried about me… are you purposely trying to make my heart race?”

his words only make you more flustered, and you find yourself fumbling to fix the bandage. “i’m sorry! i didn’t mean to—”

his chuckle only grows softer, and you catch the glint of amusement in his eyes. “it’s fine.”

you quickly finish adjusting the bandage, trying to focus on anything other than how your heart is now racing. (ironically) 

“you seem flustered,” he comments casually, as if he isn’t the one who just made your head spin. “did i say something wrong?”

you shake your head quickly, hoping to hide the flush creeping up your neck. "no, not at all.”

his lips twitch into the faintest hint of a smirk.

"nǐ bù bì yǎn shì, wǒ xǐ huān nǐ hài xiū de yàng zǐ, tǐng kě ài de.” “you don’t have to hide it. i like seeing your flustered expression, it’s quite cute.”

(oh this bastard!!!!)

you try to speak, but the words get stuck in your throat. what do you say when someone’s teasing you so openly —and they think you don’t even realise it?

after a long moment, he stands, “it’s getting late, i should get going.” alhaitham gives you a small, almost imperceptible nod, his eyes meeting yours for a brief moment —and there it was, that trace of softness reserved only for you.

he heads toward the door, you watch him, feeling a strange sense of emptiness when he turns away.

“i’ll see you,” he pauses. "...and thank you for tending to me."

you watch him leave, the door clicking softly behind him, and the silence settles back into the room.

you blink, taking a deep breath. what a rollercoaster of a day. yawning, you turn to start tidying up, but your eyes land on something on the couch.

it’s his jacket, draped over the armrest. you notice a tear on the sleeve, just where his injured forearm had been. what truly catches your attention, however, is a folded piece of paper slipping out of the pocket. 

intrigued, you unfold it, revealing his neat, precise handwriting. 

ACT VII: THE SECRET I’VE ALWAYS KNOWN. 

To [Name],  I once believed you to be little more than a nuisance. A bright, well-meaning nuisance, no doubt, but a nuisance nonetheless. One who seemed intent only on striving for perfection, always seeking to best me at every turn, not out of malice but out of some earnest desire to prove your worth. In my arrogance, I mistook your relentless pursuit for a need for recognition, as if you sought my attention in some petty rivalry. Though very quickly, you made me think otherwise.  You saw the world differently, you also saw me differently. You didn’t treat me with the reverence others seemed to, nor did you shy away from challenging me. You refused to be seen as anything other than yourself; and that, in itself, was what made me admire you —what made me long to understand you more. Now, I find that I am standing with half a heart and an emptiness I never knew I could feel, because you showed me what it truly means to crave something more, something I never thought I deserved. You may think I’m a coward for not expressing my feelings more directly, perhaps you are right. I am a coward for fearing to lay bare the vulnerability of my heart. But even in my cowardice, know that my thoughts have always been of you.  If you have seen through my silence and hesitation, if you understand my actions when my words fail me, then perhaps you have already known this truth. I care for you, more deeply than I can fully express. Though I may never be able to say these things as openly as I wish, I’d like you to know that my actions have always been my confession. Even now, I’m still a coward for you. So please, if you decide to give me a chance, I’ll be waiting at nightfall. Helplessly,  Alhaitham. 

you absentmindedly trace the edges of the letter with your fingers while your eyes skim over his writing for the nth time, the ink seeming to blur together with your thoughts as you try to process everything. your fingers curl around the fabric of his jacket, a foolish smile creeping onto your face.

tomorrow’s nightfall feels impossibly far away, yet you can’t wait for it. 

alhaitham lays on his bed, his arm aches slightly from the injury, but it’s nothing he can’t ignore. plus, the bandage you had carefully wrapped around his arm is enough to keep the discomfort at bay. 

(originally, he had only planned to meet you, slip you the note, and be on his way. things didn’t go exactly to plan, but either way, he hopes you’ve read it by now.)

of all the possibilities, he’s never accounted for the one he’d be at mercy of his own emotions; he had always prided himself on his rationality, his restraint. but now? he’s reckless, absurd, foolish even —he can admit that to himself. but he finds he doesn’t care in the slightest.

for as much as he is a coward in your presence, he is just as much a fool in your absence.

ACT VIII: UNDER THE RAIN, I HAVE SOMETHING TO SAY. 

“alhaitham isn’t really an expressive person, so don’t worry if he comes off as distant or uninterested. it’s not that he doesn’t care, he just… shows it differently.”

ah well, ‘differently’ indeed.

“—most importantly, alhaitham doesn’t waste time on people he doesn’t care about, so you must mean a lot to him.”

maybe you didn’t mind how your heart raced when you heard that.

“don’t fuss over it [name], you’ll know when he’s in love.”

how so? 

if he was in love, what would it look like? would you be able to tell, or would it be just another one of those things you had to catch on to?

you wrapped the his jacket tighter around yourself, a faint smile tugging at your lips. it wasn’t the answers to those questions that mattered, but asking them in the first place —that was what made you realize you already knew all along.

the evening air is cool against your skin; a gentle breeze stirs the trees, their leaves rustling quietly, and your heart beats louder than ever, urging you forward.

in the distance, you spot him, standing still in the dim light. and without a second thought, you quicken your pace.

“haitham.”

the sound of your voice catches his attention as he turns to face you; you can’t help but notice how his gaze flickers down for just a moment, his eyes taking in on how his jacket looks on you, before meeting yours. 

his posture is unnervingly perfect, rigid almost to the point of stiffness …is he nervous?

“hey,” he finally says, clearing his throat. “there’s something i need to tell you… though you’ve probably already figured it out. you’ve always been sharp.” 

“i… ” he falters, and it’s the first time you see him hesitate. “i’m not sure how to put it… since i’m not exactly great at this.”

you tilt your head, subtly urging him to continue. 

“but you’ve managed to make me care about things i never thought i would. and now i can’t seem to stop thinking about it —about you.” his voice lowers, softer now, but there’s a rawness there that’s unmistakable.

“i’m telling you this now, because not saying it... doesn’t feel right anymore."

suddenly, you feel a soft mist that barely kisses your skin, a slight chill against your cheeks, then a few tiny drops,  until they start to gather in your hair, the beads of water slipping down the back of your neck, but you don't move. neither does he.

his hair is damp, sticking to his forehead, droplets trailing down his temple. his clothes cling to his frame, soaked by the rain, yet his attention remains solely on you.

“[name], i am irrevocably in love with you.”

you stand there, the rain falling relentlessly around you, the pitter-patter mirroring the frantic beat of your heart. the water trails down his face, but it’s hard to tell if it’s just the rain, or something else.

his lips part, as though he wants to say more, but the words seem caught in the storm, swallowed up by the downpour. the rain is cold, but his gaze? his gaze feels impossibly warm. 

it’s only when you feel the dampness of his jacket beneath your fingers, that the words finally come. “you don’t need to convince me of that.”

you take a step closer, and for a moment, the world outside seems to disappear.

“i’ve known,” you add. “but hearing you say it,” you pause, allowing yourself a small smile, “makes all the difference.”

reaching up, your fingers graze his damp skin as you gently push a wet strand of hair from his forehead, the warmth of your touch lingering against his cool skin. 

“'uhibuk aydan, alhaitham.” i love you too, alhaitham.

a single droplet slides down his cheek, tracing the line of his jaw before falling to the soaked fabric of his collar. another follows. and then another. his breath catches in his throat, and a shaky exhale leaves his mouth.

you wrap your arms around him, and he sinks into your embrace, his hair tickling your cheeks, as his chest rises and falls against yours.

“you’re gonna make me cry too, idiot,” you murmur, burying your face in his chest, your eyes glassy. “you really are a fool,” you tease softly, a slight smile playing on your lips. “but only for me.”

slowly, his hands rise, trembling slightly, until they cup your cheeks, gently stroking it. 

“la yujad 'ahad akhar 'urid 'an 'akun 'ahmaq min 'ajlihi.” there’s no one else i’d ever want to be a fool for.

his palms are surprisingly warm despite the weather. his thumb grazes your cheekbone as he leans in, and the world falls away —nothing but the warmth of his presence and the soft press of his lips against yours.

“this is my first time in ten years seeing this guy cry! can you believe it?!” kaveh whisper-shouts, peeking out from behind the shrub. 

nodding along, cyno agrees, poking his head out just right below the blond’s. “[name] is truly exceptional. though i must say, seeing alhaitham cry is quite tear-rifying.”

kaveh rolls his eyes in exasperation. “ugh, you and your puns.” he mutters under his breath while zooming in on his phone, which is currently recording the whole scene.

“quiet down, you two!” a voice hisses from behind them —tighnari, face flushed with panic. “they’re literally right there, and you’re making more noise than a herd of goats.”

“relax, we’re out of their line of sight anyway!” kaveh raises his phone higher, almost giddily, eyes glued to the screen. “and damn this is a good angle.”

tighnari exhales sharply, “you’re incorrigible.”

“look who’s talking,” cyno raises an eyebrow at tighnari… who’s also peeking out from behind the bush. (what a hypocrite)

…

“they kissed oh my g—” kaveh’s voice rises in disbelief, but cyno quickly covers his mouth with a swift hand. the three of them scramble to duck behind the bush just as you turn to glance in their direction.

(“is that… senior kaveh?” you squint your eyes, “cyno, and tighnari?” 

alhaitham clears his throat before glancing over at his friends with a deadpan expression. “yes and unfortunately, they’re very invested in my personal life. so please don’t mind them."

you laugh, finding the whole situation a bit too amusing. “not in the slightest, but i’m sure they’ll never let you hear the end of it.”)

EPILOGUE: IN EVERY LANGUAGE, I HEAR LOVE YOU.

“how long?”

you blink, feigning confusion. “how long what?”

alhaitham’s eyes narrow slightly, an expression you know well. “how long have you understood everything i’ve been saying?”

you bite back a smile and offer a small shrug, “...ever since you started?” 

his lips press into a thin line, and for a moment, you can’t tell if he’s upset or impressed. then, he sighs, almost amused. “and you let me embarrass myself all this time?”

“you were being honest,” you shrug, a smirk forming. “plus i knew you’d figure it out eventually.”

he huffs a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “may ideya ka ba kung ano ginawa mo?" do you have any idea what you’ve done?

"mas lalong umibig sakin?" made you fall in love with me even more?

you tease, but there’s a tenderness in your voice that softens the edge of your words.

“yes, and you really are insufferable,” he mutters with no malice. his tone is different now. softer. warmer, even.

you lean in slightly, a playful glint in your eyes. “that’s not what i heard you say before.” your fingers graze the skin of his cheek before you tenderly pinch it, giggling softly at the reaction you provoked.

in one smooth motion, he catches your hand before you can pull away and tugs you towards him, closing the distance between you in a heartbeat. you tilt your head back to meet alhaitham’s gaze.

you’ve often thought he’s the most-perfect boyfriend, undeniably handsome in every way —but there’s really just one flaw: his height.

“ugh, you’re too tall," you grumble, rubbing the back of your neck. "i’m having a neck sore just looking at you."

he quirks an eyebrow at your sudden words. “you could use a stepstool.” 

"or," you counter, "you could get on your knees and save me the trouble.”

he slowly lets out a breath, his lips curling ever so slightly. 

“'akida, 'antaziri hataa 'ashtari alkhatama.” sure, just wait till i buy the ring.

"wh—" 

he crosses his arms, "what’s wrong? isn’t that what people expect when someone gets on their knees?"

you roll your eyes, half-smiling. "fine, then i’ll eagerly wait for that day.”

his gaze softens as his hand reaches up, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face; his eyes drop to your lips for a moment, and you know what’s coming even before he speaks.

this fic was not sponsored by duolingo, but with the help of my beloved friends!! wouldn't have been possible w/o em please give them a round of applause xx

vietnamese — @https-sourlimes tagalog / filipino — @vxnuslogy arabic — @ughscara chinese, japanese — me! ty @mitsvriii for proofreading, love u all <3

and thank you for reading!!

MASTERLIST.

[4theitgirls]

productivity apps for self improvement

pinterest

you know i had to include the ultimate form of social media. pinterest is one of the only truly peaceful social media apps out there and focuses on sharing photos to your themed boards. this app is everything if you’re into making vision boards, moodboards, beauty, productivity, and really anything else. there’s something there for everyone!

finch

this is a wonderful self-care app, in which you take care of a bird while taking care of yourself! this is my new favorite app. i use the free version and it is adorable. the app asks you some questions about your goals and how you feel about self care, and gives you some daily goals based on your answers, but you can delete and add goals of your own. the more you log in and track your goals, the more adventures your bird can go on and the more they grow. i recommend this app to absolutely everyone and i will never shut up about it.

gymshark training

this is a free training app including many different types and styles of workouts. you can search for workouts based on duration, equipment used, the targeted muscle, and so on. you can also add workouts and plans of your own and track your progress.

i am sober

this is my favorite app for if you have something you want to quit. this isn’t just for substances or alcohol, but can also be used for quitting sugar, skin picking, caffeine, fast food, and so many other things. you can track your progress, review your days, make pledges, and connect with others who are struggling with the same thing you are. you are also given motivational quotes and reminders when you log into the app. there is an option for a subscription, but i use the free version and have had no problems with it at all.

study bunny: focus timer

an adorable focus timer where you gain coins with every goal/time you accomplish something with your focus timer and you can spend your coins on cute little accessories for your bunny! the only real issue with this app is that the ads are kind of crazy, and it’s $15 a month to go ad-free.

flora - green focus

this app includes a pomodoro timer and plants a tree in a rural community based on how often you stay focused using the timer on the app. the app does not plant a tree unless you opt for their subscription, which is $2 per year and allows you to plant one tree for 120 hours of focused time. you can also plant a tree every 24 hours with the $10 plan.

focus to-do: focus timer&tasks

this app combines a pomodoro timer with a daily to-do list. the app is free to use, but includes additional features for those with a subscription, which is $3 for every three months or $9 for a lifetime membership.

balance: meditation & sleep

a great app that includes nightly reviews, meditations, and sleep sounds. this app has great reviews, but it’s worth noting that it’s not completely free. it includes a trial, after which is $12 per month, or $70 per year.

insight timer - meditate & sleep

just as it sounds, this is another great app for meditations, ambient sounds for sleep, and progress tracking. there are tons of free things included in the app, but if you want to unlock everything, the premium plan is $10 per month or $60 per year.

structured - daily planner

an app with great reviews intended to help organize your daily tasks into achievable goals and track your progress. the app has basic features for free, but also includes a premium subscription if you want to unlock all the features.

routineflow: guided routines

this app caters to those who have difficulties staying focused and maintaining a set routine by guiding your routine for you and managing your progress. the app gives you one routine for free, but if you want another, you would need to pay for the $30 annual subscription.

how we feel

a wonderful free journaling app developed by therapists and scientists for logging your emotions, talking to other users, and tracking your mood patterns.

gentler streak fitness tracker

if you’re tired of the constant work and grind mentality, this may be the app for you. this app takes a gentler approach to fitness by tracking exercise, giving encouragement, and notifying you if you are overworking yourself. the app itself is free, but certain features require a subscription, which is $8 per month or $50 per year.

glo | yoga and meditation app

glo is a highly rated app for yoga, pilates, and meditation. unlike most of the other apps listed, you can’t really access much on glo for free. to access the full courses, they offer two plans: $30 per month or $245 per year.

waterllama

another adorable app that lets you track your water intake with a cute llama! super motivating and is free for basic features. if you want to unlock all features, the subscription is $7 per year.

mindllama

made by the same people as waterllama, this app allows you to practice and track your meditation and breathwork practice with a cute llama! like waterllama, the app is free, but some features require a subscription, which varies depending on whether you want the premium plan, the anxiety relief plan, or the sleep focused plan.

daily bean - simplest journal

another super cute app that helps you track your days and moods. the app itself is free, but a premium plan is also offered, which is $20 per year.

schmoody: mood & habit tracker

this app aims to help you through depression, anxiety, and/or adhd by helping you track your habits, talk to other users, and give you the resources to get you back on track. the free version includes the “essentials” to support mental health and well-being, but they also offer a premium version, which unlocks more resources and personalized options. the subscription is $15 per month, $60 per year, or $100 for a lifetime membership.

meditation timer - zenitizer

this is a meditation timer that focuses on simplicity and organization while tracking your meditation practice. a free version is available with a limited amount of content, but a premium version is also offered, which is $3 per month, $20 per year, or a $50 one-time payment.

mineral - gratitude journal

this is a free journaling app that is secure in the fact that you have to use face id in order to access your journal. this app is definitely more simple, but effective nonetheless.

focus keeper: productive timer

this app is a popular pomodoro-style timer app. i’ve heard that this app works wonders for many people with adhd. the app is free, but includes additional content and features for those with a subscription.