#GOD WHERE IS THE DINNER ENTRY

[attila-werther]

I take it back, I just took a look at Ferdinand I of Naples' family tree and I hate that, round of applause for Francesco d'Aragona, Duke of Sant'Angelo and Marquis of Bisceglie

secondary shout out to burchard for the funniest entry of 'either a sforza nephew or cousin,' because I too sometimes look at the sforza family tree and go 'I'm not remembering that.'

[cowlovely]

best nuwho episodes to show to someone who has never seen doctor who, but wants to get into it*

*i’m working off of very specific criteria here. this can’t just be another “best episodes” list, because an episode being good doesn’t necessarily mean it would make a good introduction to a series. for this reason, there will probably be very few episodes past s6 or so on here, as i feel like that’s around the time that many doctor who episodes become too steeped in the show’s own history/overarching plotlines to make the most effective starting points (definitely at least partially moffat’s fault lol)

1x01 rose — maybe too obvious a choice, but this episode is the pilot for a reason.

—pros: does a very good job establishing nuwho’s version of the doctor, as well as thoroughly and effectively introducing us to rose and her life; the autons are a good and fun choice for the first threat.

—cons: is definitely not AS good as some other episodes of the show, so maybe not the best if you only have one episode to show someone and you want to make the most of it

1x06 dalek

—pros: establishes one of Thee enemies of the series, demonstrates 9 and rose’s values, sets up/explains a bit of the time war in an easy to understand way, has a great emotional core

—cons: i genuinely can’t think of any

1x09/1x10 the empty child/the doctor dances

—pros: fabulous storytelling all around with plot, themes, and pacing, emotional but with a happy ending, great blending of tone throughout, and a complete standalone story

—cons: it’s always a bit of a risk to start with a two parter

2x04 the girl in the fireplace

—pros: great creature design, fun storytelling devices, pretty self contained as far as references/lore go, fantastic performances from everyone but especially from sophia myles

—cons: has some of steven moffat’s worst writing attributes, including 10 feeling out of character in several spots, and reinette being very clearly a Moffat Woman in many ways (though this is in my opinion somewhat saved by myles’ great acting)

2x08/2x09 the impossible planet/the satan pit — i really debated putting these ones on here, but this story was MY introduction to the series so. clearly it’s very effective

—pros: really immersive story and setting, great cast of guest characters/actors, another self contained story (as far as i remember), introduces the ood

—cons: another two parter, might be a bit intense as a first story for some people, 10 and rose’s dynamic/significant moments in this might not hit the same way for someone who hasn’t seen other episodes

3x01 smith and jones

—pros: new companion episode, so the audience gets things explained to them at the same time as martha, fun little mystery at the center, interesting conflict/non-antagonist antagonists, good chemistry between tennant and agyeman, the hole rose left emotionally can be felt but doesn’t cut into the story as much as it does in the runaway bride

—cons: is again maybe not one of the standout episodes of the whole series (but is still very solid)

3x03 gridlock — might be a bit controversial since i didn’t include new earth, but i’ll explain

—pros: really interesting setting and plot, and while i think seeing new earth first gives interesting context, i don’t think it’s necessary to enjoy or understand what’s happening in this episode, and it’s kind of cool to come at this one from martha’s pov. showcases a lot of different kind of creatures/people, has a really satisfying and emotional conclusion, has the doctor reintroduce the concept of gallifrey and what happened to it

—cons: could definitely have some confusing elements if you haven’t seen new earth, in particular novice hame and the face of boe, and the effect of the city being the way it is in gridlock could be a bit diminished without the context of 2x01

3x10 blink

—pros: considered to be one of if not the best episode of the series, and with good reason. carey mulligan KILLS it, the mystery is incredibly compelling from start to finish, and the weeping angels are undoubtedly one of the best additions to the series. this episode is crafted damn near perfectly

—cons: while this episode is incredible, i don’t think it’s actually the best possible intro to the show that many people think it is; it’s not a good microcosm of the show as a whole in terms of structure and tone, and the doctor is really hardly in this episode at all. it makes the episode really gripping and intriguing if you’re already familiar with the show, but i actually think that effect is slightly dulled if you’re somebody who isn’t. this doesn’t mean that it would necessarily be the WORST introduction to the show (i’m still including it on the list after all), but i also don’t think it’s the best

4x08/4x09 silence in the library/forest of the dead

—pros: do i have to keep mentioning the episodes are really good? anyway these are really good. really highlights donna’s complexities, story is tense and emotional and intellectually engaging all at once, introduces river/touches on relationship dynamics with a time traveler, great and genuinely scary monster

—cons: another two parter, river’s introduction and the emotional weight of her and 10’s dynamic might not hit the same if you don’t know the doctor as a character either, and the same goes for donna’s plotline in these episodes (it was really difficult in general to pick ANY donna episodes because so many of the ones that feature her are really tied up in series lore of some kind 😭)

4x10 midnight

—pros: genuinely SO brilliantly written, acted, and edited it is ACTUALLY crazy. i’m biased because this is my favorite episode of the series, but i really think it’s such an all around tight story, and definitely one of the more self-contained ones of the show (especially considering this is a one-off monster we don’t even really hear about afterwards, let alone see again). and really i cannot hype up the writing and acting in this episode enough—if you’re really into sociology as a focal point in your sci-fi this episode will be for you

—cons: kind of similar to blink in that this episode isn’t very emblematic of what the show normally is—both in its bottle setting and the fact that the doctor is totally solo for the majority of the runtime, which is not the norm. i love it, and i think it works really well for the episode, but it’s still an outlier (the tone is also more serious than most eps). and also as minor as they are, there are still a few lore moments/references that might be confusing if this were someone’s first episode (rose’s face coming through on the bus screen, for example)

5x01 the eleventh hour

—pros: new doctor, and similar to smith and jones in the new companion factor. great story, episode is filled with lots of great energy, and this really showcases some of moffat’s better attributes as a writer/showrunner, particularly the kind of fairytale vibe he brings to doctor who; first episode of nuwho with a new showrunner, so it kind of intentionally comes off as a bit of a soft reboot

—cons: while it IS a bit like a soft reboot, this is one that kind of rolls with the assumption that you sort of know the deal at this point when it comes to the doctor as a character. i wouldn’t say it’s necessarily confusing, but i could see it potentially being a bit annoying for a new viewer, or just not as effective as an episode. also this was made in 2010 by moffat, and it shows (the sherlock editing, in particular)

5x02 the beast below

—pros: continuing the fairytale vibe, engaging setting and mystery, absolutely heartbreaking in the best way possible, self-contained story

—cons: viewer might feel a bit lost if they don’t know anything about the doctor and amy or how they met. kind of pro british monarchy :/

5x08/5x09 the hungry earth/cold blood

—pros: introduces the silurians (to nuwho at least), has really good guest characters/dynamics, conflict is compelling and very nuanced (feels closer to a classic who episode if that’s something that compels you), and this is something i’ve refrained from mentioning so far, but these episodes in particular have absolutely fantaaaaaastic makeup/SFX, costuming, and production design

—cons: two parter (take a shot every time i say this), the dramatic conclusion of this one might be confusing and/or fall flat if you aren’t familiar with amy and rory or the overarching plot of the season, and i could definitely see some people finding these episodes boring with all the political talk (i definitely did as a kid)

6x09 night terrors

—pros: very self-contained (as far as i can remember), perfectly straddles the line of horror and sci-fi, has a good emotional core, and 11 with kids is almost always an a+ for me

—cons: honestly can’t really think of any? again maybe not like. an AMAZING episode, and it may have references to past episodes/events in it that i can’t remember that might be confusing to a new viewer

6x11 the god complex

—pros: GREAAATTTT episode hook that really quickly and effectively drops you into the setting and overall vibe of the episode, some great one off characters, encompasses a lot of doctor who’s themes and different blends of genre

—cons: the second half of the episode pretty significantly focuses on amy and her fears/insecurities related to the doctor, so much so that it almost made me not include this episode

7x07 the rings of akhaten

—pros: this episode is so good. great intro to clara’s character (despite it not being her first one), great setting, great alien designs + worldbuilding, great music, and oh my GOD the monologues…the damn monologues…chef’s kiss

—cons: the doctor’s monologue probably won’t have the same effect for a new viewer that it does for people who are already fans, but honestly it’s so good that i don’t think this is that big a deal

9x03/9x04 under the lake/before the flood

—pros: very similar vibes to the impossible planet/the satan pit, but honestly i think i’m even more compelled by this story than i was by that one. i LOVE all the moving parts in this, i love the characters, i love that we’re underwater, and i love that it’s GHOSTS!!

—cons: two parter (shot!), and specifically a two parter that—while i love it to bits—drags a bit more than other two parters that i’ve included on this list. a new viewer may also not totally get (or maybe even be put off by?) 12 and clara’s dynamic

10x01 the pilot

—pros: i’ll be honest i wouldn’t say this is one of my FAVORITE episodes or anything, but it’s still very solid, and i DO think it could make a good introduction into the series for someone

—cons: has multiple allusions to other characters/arcs that will probably feel kind of weird to a new viewer

eve of the daleks special

—pros: time loop lovers come get your juice!!! this episode fucks, it’s probably my favorite from chibnall’s era? top three at least for sure. features the daleks without being too steeped in the Lore/having them overshadow everything in the episode

—cons: this episode is an atypical structure flr the show, and is kind of like. is About 13 and yaz’s relationship, which will probably be kind of odd if you haven’t seen any of the show before

honorable mentions, aka episodes i really wanted to include, but which had one too many cons to justify: 1x02 the end of the world, 1x08 father’s day, 2x01 new earth, s3 xmas special the runaway bride, 3x08/3x09 human nature/the family of blood, s4 special the waters of mars, 5x07 amy’s choice, 5x10 vincent and the doctor, 5x11 the lodger, 6x04 the doctor’s wife, 6x05/6x06 the rebel flesh/the almost people, 6x10 the girl who waited, 10x10 the eaters of light, 11x06 demons of the punjab, 12x08 the haunting of villa diodati, 60th special wild blue yonder)

that’s it so far!! i may add onto this when we get more episodes with 15, we’ll see!

(also i promise i’m not as biased towards early seasons nuwho as this list implies, i was just trying to be as objective as i could possibly be with the criteria that i set 😭 (while obviously still being subjective to my opinions) a lot of the later seasons just don’t have very many easy entry points 😔 (which is i’m sure at least partly why the show is being soft rebooted with 15))

[queen-mabs-revenge]

ok but one of the joys of good omens: putting your favorite historical figure in the 'other tags to include' field on ao3 for funsies

[acid-ixx]

ch.2: again &. again (platonic! yandere batfam x neglected! gn reader)

directory: preq, chapter one, chapter two, chapter three, chapter four

read until the end for an author's note.

*"XX/XX/XXXX, entry no. 13.

i hate everything. i hate my family. i hate my father, i hate my brothers, i hate my classmates, i hate alfred, i hate this place, i hate my mom, i hate everyone.

why can't i ever get what i wanted? what do i have to do? i tried so hard to be everything for them, but why do i only amount to nothing? it's been a year, or two, i don't know. it hurts trying to remember when was the last time i saw him. saw, not talk, because he never talks to me, bruce never even looks at me. and i hate myself for trying to get him to look at me.

is he disgusted at me? does he see my mother in me? does he hate me that much? i don't know, i don't want to know, it hurts to know. i don't know why i'm trying anymore, i don't know how longer i can last in this hell. i can feel it, the longer i stay here, the more i lose a part of myself. i don't want to be here.

i don't want to pray anymore.

so if there's any god out there watching over me, then i wish for you to burn, to suffer, to go through the same thing i have been experiencing for years— all for putting me in this place. i would've been fine living in the streets with my mother. i would've been alright providing for our small family, i would've known to never get my hopes high, but you took her away from me!—

i hate you."

"master (name), are you awake? dinner is ready."

you had to shut your diary at the sound of the knock and alfred's voice.

"alfr-"

a cough, hoarse and croaky, cuts you out from calling his name. it was accompanied by uncontrollable sniffles, mucus blocking your nose from breathing properly. your room was dark, save for the lamp that lights up your bedside, where you currently were seated on your bed to write another entry, grip on your pen unknowingly harsh. you didn't even have to look at your reflection from your phone laying beside the diary to know that hiding your tears were fruitless.

salty were the crystalline droplets that streaks your face, but bitter were the emotions that had your heart ache.

you hear a sigh from the other room. before he could muster a reply, you beat him to it.

"i'm not eating dinner, alfred," you hate hearing your voice, sounding so obviously scrathy from the hours of wailing. "at least not with them. i don't want to get out at all."

"then may i at least bring them over to you, master (name)?"

his answer was final, you have no choice on retaliating and starving yourself like you did for the past few days. but it wasn't your fault that you had forgotten your body's needs. it wasn't your fault that your mind blanks itself out on the dinner table. it wasn't your fault that bile quickly crawls up your throat at hearing their voices.

you simply lost your appetite seeing them happy without you.

alfred pennyworth would never play favorite.

it was drilled into his head ever since he had sworn to serve the wayne family and its extended members— he is to serve anyone and everyone, regardless if they respect him or they do not; as long as they do not pose any danger within the manor, then he is to attend to them.

you'd think that in his decades of service for the wayne's - with all the contrasting personalities he had to deal with - he would maintain professional standards and tell everybody in the world, "i, of course, do not favor anyone within the family, i live to serve and that is truth." when in fact, he wouldn't hesistate to admit that he does, in actuality, have a favorite.

and no, it wouldn't be the eldest child, dick grayson, as much as he is alfred's pride and joy, nor would it be the youngest, damian wayne, who had been slowly correcting his mistakes. it wouldn't even be the head of the house, master bruce.

it would be you, (name) wayne, the infamous, yet forgetten child of the wayne family.

it wouldn't be a far fetch for alfred to admit that you weren't like the others. in all of the years that he served the wayne's, you were a contrast of the family.

the first few hours that he had picked you up from the police department upon the news of bruce's secret child, he knew you were more than just a child raised by the brutal streets of gotham.

you pose secrets that speak of the underground.

he remembers your seated form on the stiff chair of the interrogation room, pose unnervingly straight, as if you had solidified yourself against the metal seat. your fingers were the only signs that showed life, twiddling with each other as if it's some form of distraction.

you stared at nothing.

not even at the police as your name was called for pick up.

it took merely a signature of confirmation to dictate the future years of your life.

what's left of your belongings were given to alfred. the police officer, a woman with a kind smile then had to walk across the interrogation table to pat your back, gesturing for you to stand up and follow her and alfred on the way outside of the station, where the car was parked.

you hadn't uttered a word nor snapped out of your dreamlike gaze. not even when you were greeted with a thousand clicks of the cameras, the buzzing crowd that drowns the police station, or the hundreds of voices that yell at you to look at them.

(name) (last name), now formally adopted by bruce wayne, would be (name) wayne. it wouldn't be a shock that your sudden appearance as the child of a scandalous relationship between a prostitute and a billionaire would cause immense reactions. news would be spreading left and right, most of which were negative on your side.

he had to shield you from the crowd of photographers and journalists itching their way to the crowd to get a glance on you.

yet you didn't display any discomfort. you had only sat on the car obediently, fastening your seatbelts robotically and ignoring the lenses that unsettlingly tried to poke through the car windows to take pictures of you.

you were more like batman than you were bruce.

alfred had tried to get you communicate with questions like, "how are you over there, master (name)?" yet you would only mumble unintelligible responses to his questions without any ounce of emotion. he had to look at the rear view mirror to take in your stiff form. again, your eyes were set on nothing, even if they were casted down on the carpeted floorboards of the car.

when he had first met bruce, that child was overflowing with anger and vengeance for his parent's killer, yet you, who refused to explain your mother's disappearance, are devoid of anything.

the silence was defeaning throughout the ride. the only comfort that was provided was the rain that began to patter against the glass windows.

alfred throught you would retain the same behavior the entire day.

yet it was only when you first walked up the steps of the manor did your demeanor change, fingers immediately reaching up to hold the cuffs of his sleeves, pulling it as if you were hesitant to step in.

the first emotion you had shown him was concern, like a switch had flickered you out of your trance. it was the first time in a while that alfred had to do a double take to check if what was happening was real.

"can you... hold my hand?" and it was the first time he had heard you speak, voice unnaturally scratchy from the lack of water. you stared at him with wide, doe eyes that refused to blink, waiting for answers. alfred had to gaze at your entire body to finally notice that you were covered head to toe in sloppy bandages with blood seeping through the grime-filled gauze. your shoes were worn, your clothes were ripped, and other uncovered scars littered your body.

the most conspicuous color on your shirt was crimson red.

yet you do not display pain.

a child, five years of age, had been through more than enough anguish to know how to block their pain out.

you were unlike the rest, truly, you were unwavering of the world's cruelty.

the world does not deserve someone like you.

alfred takes it in himself to always hold your hand after that.

through the mansion doors, inside the kitchen, on your way to school; whenever and wherever, as long as he had time.

even if it were filled with scars and bruises, dirt and grime, he will always hold your hand if it meant guiding you through the darkness of the manor.

you may not consider yourself bruce's child, but you will always be alfred's.

another knock on your door had you snapping out of your trance. time passed by so quickly in the manor. well, it does when you have nothing to do but stare at your diary, draw on your sketchbook or scroll through your phone. yet time would always be the quickest whenever you drown in your own misery.

"come in," you croak out, aware that it would only be alfred who would come by your room. it was long ago since you had given up on awaiting for dick's visits.

a turn of the knob, then the door swings quietly; the hinges creak, you need them oiled sooner. alfred walks in, you notice he holds a tray that contains two cupcakes and a plate of your favorite dish, but you don't notice the small box with a bow hidden skillfully from the back of the tray. from over your seat, you could already smell the aromatic herbs that flutter in the room and see the colorful frosting from both cupcakes; an already lit candle sticking in from one.

the candle at least provides just a split second of light inside your dim room; the moonlight just like your family, absent.

alfred graciously places the tray on your nightstand, on the left of your diary. your room was still too silent.

you could only hear yourself.

"master (name), are you simply going to sit there and stare? or would you rather i spoonfeed you like i had when you had broken your wrist?"

you blink it out again, oblivious to your very own hyperawareness. alfred's still here. you hope that, in the presence of darkness, he wouldn't see just how much of a mess you are. how your hands could barely grip onto anything, hair unwashed, face stained with tears, difficulty breathing through the buildup of mucus, foot tapping up and down erratically— you wished he would pretend to be blind about your suffering for just this once.

"no—" came your sudden reply, "i can- yeah, i can eat by myself."

it's harder to lie to yourself than it is to others.

he looks at you with doubt, it makes you shiver.

despite you wishing for company inside the manor, you could never be used to attention. it would never be normal for someone like you. though, you wish it was. you wish you never hesitated when someone gives you attention.

you hear your mattress creak, there's a dip on your bed. alfred sits beside you, only then did you realize just how quickly you lean into his side, craving for warmth in the solace of your empty room.

everything hurts, it truly does.

you wish you were strong enough to cease the sudden burst of tears when his one hand circles your shoulder and the other holds the cupcake with a candle near your face. and you wish that you weren't so weak in the presence of another, trying to find a semblance of your worth in their attention.

you at least try to stifle your sobs—

"happy birthday, master (name)."

— but you were always weak, yet alfred never seems to mind, patting your back to console you from your wailing.

you blow the fire out with a single promise to yourself, crying a bit more when alfred had given you a gift box, laced with a ribbon of your favorite color.

it was one of the few gifts you would cherish, fondness seeping into the cracks of your heart.

though it wouldn't erase the bitterness that fills your being either way, knowing your family is still downstairs, unaware of the anguish the torment that they have put you through— it's still enough to let you hate alfred a little less.

"alfred?"

it was your meek voice, one that was always drowned out by the sound of the dishes clanking.

"yes, master (name)?" yet alfred could always strain out the sound of anything just to hear your talk. after all, you were a silent kid throughout your childhood.

"—if i move out of this place; would promise you wouldn't forget about me?"

... (name) wayne was full of surpises.

even at the ripe age of seventeen, and in the near fourteen years of raising you, alfred could never predict your words nor your actions.

you had always said things spontaneously, carrying an aura of awkwardness in your tone, reminiscent of someone who had their personal growth (moreover their social life) stunted.

but now, with the way you had said your resolve so confidently, it felt like he was looking at a different version of you; all the more confident and resilient.

except... you were behind him when you had said that - so he wasn't really looking at you - eating the first batch of his cookies whilst he was polishing the dishes with a cloth.

when he had turned around to look at you, though, you were still the socially inept child he knows and love, sitting on the breakfast bar and twirling around the stool as you attempt to not get crumbs everywhere. you were still so young in his eyes.

it's just, the way you had looked at him expectedly like you needed his approval that shocked him. it was always your eyes that had expressed the most emotions, glazing with anticipation for his response.

he knows it when you lie, and right now, you were dead serious in your resolve.

alfred had to relax the crease on his brows before he ages faster than he already is.

"well, master (name)," he continues, turning back to wiping the dishes clean before he could fully face you. "i would fully support you in your... journey, but what warranted you to be suddenly motivated on moving out?"

alfred had finished setting aside the dishes, but he still doesn't look back.

"i mean, i thought i already told you? i have a scholarship for college but it's on the other side of gotham and...

— i kind of don't want to be chauffeured by a limo around the campus everyday, you know? so the next best thing is to get a dorm."

alfred knows it when you lie. and right now, your hesitance tells him everything he needs to know.

you may have proved a point, but that point was an entire lie. with a person name wayne flaunting across a city whilst riding a limousine, you might find yourself into more trouble than anything else.

but he had always been the one to pick you up and drop you off from elementary and halfway through your highschool life— and you never seemed to mind until now.

it doesn't take a genius to know that you had already deviced a full plan of moving out and taken it into action; all you had to do was confront the only man in the manor who had cared about you enough to raise you about your worries.

it wasn't enough to convince him to let you go, though, especially not right after an incident that had occured prior to you highschool life. if he allows you to gain independence in gotham, he wouldn't know how long you would last.

but when he looks back at you again, he couldn't bring it in himself to oppose to your whims. you need a new environment; one that provides you a way to gain independence and, most preferably, social skills. staying cooped up in a manor with barely anybody talking to you does more harm than good.

and being ignored by your own family for almost fourteen years wouldn't be a great way to celebrate your already nearing eighteenth birthday.

alfred doesn't want to admit it, but if he keeps you here any longer, you would never grow up. one person could only do so much.

he whips out a sigh, looking at you with resignation in his eyes. but you know it in yourself that he swears his life on the promise.

"master (name)," he walks over to you, eyes darting at the cookie crumbs that litter around your mouth making a note to scold you on your manner later. he sits directly in front of you, hand patting your head as you merely stare at him expectedly.

"i have raised you for almost fourteen years, it's like you are my very own child. i would never forget you." he takes your hands in his. "but you have to also promise me to stay safe out there, master (name). call me once you're there."

alfred would find a way to get you to come back eventually, even if it meant utilizing your family's neglect, which was primarily the reason why you had moved out on the first place.

he just hopes you wouldn't connect the dots and pin the blame on him once you're back and safe in the manor.

and now, it had only been months since you had gotten away from the manor. he was proud of your development, of your choice and overall, you, but he wouldn't lie and say he doesn't miss you.

he misses hearing your voice directly, the line on the phone being too blotchy to properly hear you. he misses it when he would sit on your bed as your only audience whilst he watches you paint on your canvases, drawling on and on about highschool's latest drama. he misses it when you would always be the first to taste his dishes, face lighting up whenever the food was seasoned up; now he has to constantly remind you to eat a nutritious diet, even offering to send you money whenever you mention you were short on it.

in the good of your heart, you would always decline, even going as far to deny him of any liberty to track you down and bring you a meal himself.

alfred misses you.

does he regret allowing you your freedom? not really, no. but he knows it in himself that a greedy part of him prefers it if you were would visit the manor occasionally during your vacations, at least to bond with him. but you simply chose not to, even going as far to legally change your name once you had become eighteen so you wouldn't be associated with your father's last name.

but that wouldn't erase the past you had tried to meticulously cover.

(name) wayne may have been a name forcefully deleted off of the face of the internet, but that doesn't mean it doesn't have its conspiracies of its own. nobody knows who you are beyond the blurry, unsolicited pictures of you. it may have been a photograph of your back, or articles published in unknown websites and buried at the far end about a kid leaving a police station and entering through the fancy gates of the wayne manor.

and most importantly, you are a product of a one-night-stand.

but they don't know who the mother is, don't know your age, or where you come from, and what business bruce has with the woman to guarantee your adoption at the instance she had disappeared without warning.

your existence was a mystery most would like to solve. after all, it was your picture that was plastered all over the newspapers and articles, it was your name that journalists whisper and it was a silhouette of your face that the underground knows by heart. every known information about you was shared discretely yet efficiently like some sort of virus.

you were a target for interest, a large sum of money if they will. and alfred had taken it in his hands to make sure there would never be a repeat of what had happened before.

it was a clumsy mistake, one that cost you your memories, and one he swears on his life he'll never make again.

the first course of action he needs to arrange, which may seem difficult for most; he needs to confront bruce.

after all, your freedom is your doom.

the wayne manor, in all its glory, could only be described as this palace overflowing his its abundant history and fame.

it was a castle that houses a boy who had lost his parents and became gotham's very own vigilante who stalks through the night to lessen the very evil that devours its citizens. it was the training grounds where the robins, sidekicks dressed in colorful attire, opposite to batman, were raised to be worthy enough to stand by the dark knight's side. but most importantly, it was a home for troubled children who were in their journey of their very own personal struggles.

yet even in its exterior splendour, it would always be innately overcome with loneliness.

for someone like bruce wayne, he embraces this desolation just as he embraces his alter-ego, batman, who wears a suit of black and dons an aura that demanded fear.

even if he carries the persona of 'brucie wayne' a ditsy, playboy who enjoys galas and sleeping with women every other night, he prefers solitude over the sea of interviewers who throng around him like he was a piece of meat.

it would be the only time he could focus on his countless of stacked paperworks to sign and his plans to ransack another criminal's master plan.

before winter could cover gotham in its sheet of pure, white coldness, rain would always terrorize the skies. he finds this the perfect atmosphere; dark grey clouds prevent the sun from peaking through, droplets of rain would pelt against the vast windows that surrounds his study, and there was enough background noise to block out any sounds that would pass through the door.

bruce wayne was focused on his work, and that meant disturbance wasn't allowed inside the manor. thankfully, it was a quiet, uneventful afternoon today.

in fact, it was all too abnormally quiet.

his scarred hands work through signing papers effiently and effortlessly, practiced fingers signing papers after he would meticulously scan over the paragraphs of texts that scale from business deals to partnerships to buying a piece of land. then later, once the moon rises, he would have to patrol with damian and disrupt another drug trade that had been recently dealing with children on the alleys of gotham.

that means he has to sign or reject at least half of the papers before evening falls through, so he could have alfred send them over through the post office tomorrow morning.

he was at least a quarter way through his work, though, when his flow was disrupted by a courteous knock by the mahogany doors.

he didn't have to look up or ask who it was, knowing it was alfred, his butler.

"master bruce, i have your tea ready, along with news to bare," bruce could hear the tone of urgency and a tinge of sullenness in alfred's voice. it was rare for alfred to be emotionally distressed, as he was typically the most composed out of everyone in the family.

"come on in, alfred," bruce's vocal chords were gruff, raspy whenever he's too engrossed in whatever he was doing.

but he was piqued at the news alfred was eager to share, the butler expertly turning the knob and entering with a tray that holds a hot serving of tea.

bruce stopped signing the papers, putting down his pen as he watches alfred, composed as always, place the tray down on his desk, not a single clank that was produced from the metal sheets. he watches as alfred reflexively pours him a cup of tea.

it was only after that action that the two share eye contact, alfred stationing himself to the right of bruce's desk.

if he wasn't a detective, he wouldn't have noticed the furrow of alfred's brows, which was uncharacteristic of the composed butler.

he reckons he should address the elephant in the room.

"what is it that you want to tell me, alfred?" bruce swivels his chair to face alfred, fingers tapping the mahogany desk rhythmically.

"master bruce, i figured you should have known this for quite a long time ago, but your third child had moved out on their own and now lives at the opposite side of gotham. right now, they may have been struggling to make ends meet."

huh?

"what do you mean, alfred? you're aware that tim is currently living in the manor—"

"no, master, i am talking about your third, not fourth child; master (name)."

... (name)?

ah, his... other child.

alfred looks at his seated form, expecting the befuddled reaction from bruce.

it doesn't take long for bruce to recover from his thoughts, eyebrows furrowed the same way as alfred as he leans against his chair.

"and what of (name)? why was i not updated about them?"

alfred had to stifle a groan as he then glares at bruce with what he could suppose was exasperation.

"i had already told you about their leave months ago, master bruce. you had simply waved me off whenever the topic is of master (name)." the butler's glare hardened, reminiscent of the times where bruce was scolded as a child. and like a child, he doesn't know what he had done wrong.

"i feel it is time for you to take it into your hands to deal with master (name)'s situation right now. i do not have access to their location and just like you, they are stubborn and refuse to accept any financial aid that comes to them in any form—"

to make matters worse, alfred had the gall to stop midway into his explanation, sighing and blinking unnervingly which catches more than bruce's attention.

"they would rather not admit it, but if they were to fail to pay for this month's rent of their apartment, they would get evicted from their very own living space."

at pretty much the last sentence, bruce's gaze hardened. not at alfred, no, but at the thought of you; his... forgotten child. if it was money that you need, why had you not ask for any allowance in the first place? bruce would admit that, well, it had been too long since he had last seen your face, nor even... remember it—

but you were still a child of his and he wouldn't deny you of an allowance if it meant persuing your... highschool or college dreams...?

shit, what grade are you in?

why didn't he know you moved out in the first place? wait—

"alfred, how long has it been since they had last moved out?"

"roughly six or seven months ago, master."

"ah, but having a place of your own as a minor would be prohibited by law."

"master bruce, they're eighteen. they're old enough to live in their own apartment."

eighteen years old...? how long had it been since he had last seen or heard of you? if what alfred had said was true, that the butler had attempted to reach out to him about you, then why had he not remember in the first place? you were a quiet kid, sure, but for someone like bruce, people would always not be overlooked.

it wasn't in him to easily forget, but he hates how he couldn't muster up a single memory of your face— not even your hair color nor your eyes. did you even... exist in his eyes? there was not a single memory of you that he could come up in his head.

his child was eighteen now, how could he not have known in the first place? how could he not recollect a single birthday of yours? or any celebration or gala that had you in it?

alfred's sigh snapped him out of his trance once more.

bruce looked up, seeing resignation upon alfred's face. he simply stood there, posture straight as always, but bruce couldn't wash away the shame that cages his heart when there was not a single image of you that pops up in his mind— alfred's disappointment merely worsened

the tea in his desk had long since gone untouched, but bruce couldn't bring it in himself to drink a single drop of it, even if his lips were dried and his throat was begging for even a single droplet of water.

he denies himself of any relief.

"i figure i should leave you in your own, master bruce, to at least compose yourself before nightfall. please do take your child into consideration, though, enough time has passed since you have last seen them." alfred states, as if it was a matter of fact. and it was, bruce should've known about your leave, as your father and as the man who took you in, he should've.

so before the butler could even take a step, bruce hastily stands up from his seat, pen long since discarded on his desk and a quarter of the papers are now messily stacked upon each other, but bruce pays them no mind.

"take me to (name)'s room right now, i need to see things for myself."

if bruce couldn't even remember a single instance of you, then maybe a trip to your room would be enough for him to remember.

but if that doesn't work then... bruce would a find a way, he always would.

and as your father, he needs to at least support you, even financial no matter your stubbornness? even if the shame he feels right now is so immensely disturbing, and the migraine is quickly finding its way into his head— he needs to know more about you, his actual third child.

bruce wayne needs to see your face just once.

reblogs and interactions are encouraged and appreciated.

a/n: 5k+ words. no beta, we die like jason todd with a crowbar. my least favorite part of writing the chapter is literally starting it. i had at least 5 drafts all lined up and it took me an hour in the bed to think about how should i start it. i literally hope you guys enjoy the chapter hehe, and start to yk, notice the patterns and the parallels between your perspective and bruce's perspective bec ur literally his child, u guys share some habits even if u never once talked to him lmao. the most emotionally draining scene was writing the birthday scene, i had to take breaks from typing it out hehe. bruce's descent to yandere-ism isn't as quick as dick's but it would be worst in the next chapter.

also, i hope you guys are able to notice the bad habits that the reader eventually collects because it's important for the next chapters. it would be better if anyone of u could... point them out in my asks or comments, i love rambling about it yk, and a lot of you are absolutely brilliant in making theories that are absolutely right. anyways, i hope u enjoy this chapter because this was one hell of a ride for me and i appreciate all the reblogs and comments despite me not replying to a lot of yall but u guys truly are my motivation so thank u lots :(((<33!

taglist: @lilyalone, @secretomelettetroops, @earlqurl, @simpingfor-wakasa, @amber-content, @ruiroku, @okaybutfullhomo, @trasshy-artist, @obsessedwithromance, @jjsmeowthie, @fairy-lenaa, @maicenitas, @ilovvmyhusband, @6uuyuuhgy, @plsfckmedxddy, @lavender-moony, @sweetheart-era, @chemicalsandghosts, @darling006, @starringyau, @rosecentury, @jaythes1mp, @pi1nkl0ver, @i-thirsty-boi, @sharks-r-cool-l, @silverklaus, @samanthathanes, @traumaramacenter, @maddimoon, @anxrq, @thedarknesslord, @h0rr0r-10ver-69, @lazy-idate, @googeecat44, @simpingfor-wakasa, @zvghfgn, @0patito0 (if i had forgotten to put any of u in a taglist please forgive me, it's hard to keep track !!)

[eightstarr]

at the count of three — ellie williams.

summary: how do you tell your best friend you’re in love with them? ellie has an answer! just be cool and wait for the right moment— and the next. and maybe another one, just to be sure. if you get impatient, you can always take a deep breath and count to three! (years, that is)

warnings: slow burn (childhood friends to lovers <3), little bit suggestive but no smut!

notes: born from a piece of dialogue i wrote like, a year ago and completely forgot about but somehow a week later it's 4k words? idk you're welcome or i'm sorry!!! also yes they do spend almost every scene sitting together on a couch but that's what lesbianism is all about...

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・。.・゜✧・. ────

ONE!

A movie plays on the TV, a slightly tarnished DVD of an 80’s action flick starring some oily guy and the most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen— Ellie doesn't remember much other than an obnoxiously epic soundtrack and lingering shots that made the plot twist too obvious about 20 minutes in. 

She's freshly eighteen; you’re ahead only by a couple months. It's a warm Friday night, Joel and your dad in the kitchen putting scraps together for a mildly healthy dinner, Ellie sitting on the very opposite side of the couch from where you are. It’s hot, she'd said, looking away from your comically insulted face that grew with every scooch she made from your side, a lame excuse to save her from the newly found (and fucking torturous) fluttering that sparks in her stomach whenever she sits too close to you.

From the kitchen comes the sound of a can hitting the floor, followed by Joel’s 'shit!' and then quickly, 'sorry, girls'. You chuckle, turning to Ellie and catching her staring at you. A wrinkle forms between your eyebrows at the same time a pink warmth floods her cheeks. “Dude, you’re not even paying attention.”

“I am,” a scoff, her eyes now strictly committed to the screen. “The noise distracted me,” she adds, knowing it didn't even make her flinch from the careful study of your side profile.

“Scaredy cat— ow!” a pillow crashes against your cheek, sudden enough to shock you, too soft to do any real damage. “What the fuck?”

Ellie raises her eyebrows and looks at you from the corner of her eyes, a smirk half hidden by her hand. “Don’t be rude, you're missing the best scene.”

You throw the pillow back and scoff when she catches it, your lips slightly pursed, the signature sign to tell you’re annoyed. It's almost identical to the replica of that gesture that sits at the end of her last journal entry, an overly dedicated sketch born from a wandering thought. She could make it more accurate, she thinks now, soften the line of your jaw, take the scar on your cheek a little more to the left.

The sound of water splashing from the TV catches her attention and Ellie snaps her head forward (lest she get caught staring again), just as the blonde haired love interest is walking out of a fancy looking swimming pool.

“She’s hot,” you say, fingers pulling absentmindedly at loose threads on the rip of your jeans. When Ellie doesn't say anything, you turn to look at her, “You don't think so?”

Her voice comes out a higher pitch than she’d like. “What—” she clears her throat before continuing to mumble, “I don't know, I guess.”

You laugh. “You guess?” 

“Yeah, I— I don't know, dude, I wasn't thinking about that.”

You watch the nervousness on her face, the gulp that passes her throat, the red under her freckles. Fondness tugs at your chest and your voice softens just slightly, a smile playing on your lips. “Oh my God. Ellie, it’s okay,” green eyes find your face and she sees you hesitate for a second before you shrug. “Who cares? It's just me.”

You make it sound easy. It's the most distinct thing Ellie remembers about this moment, how suddenly safety felt like the most obvious thing. TV light on your face, your arm over the back of the couch, the same eyes she's been looking at since she was fourteen. Of course it's okay. Everything else with you is easy, why wouldn't this be the same?

Ellie shifts on the couch, the distance between you turning quickly ridiculous— offensive, even. She’s embarrassed to have let her flusteredness get in the way, but the urge to be closer doesn't feel right either. Everything she does feels like too much, everything she says too intense. “How long have you known?” she asks.

You tilt your head, less of a question and more of a guidance, “Known that you…”

Ellie parts her lips, unsure of whether or not she’s gonna say it or how, trying to will the words to come out. And they do, she remembers it well, because it was the first and maybe the only time she was this direct about it. “That I like girls.”

The smile on your face is teeth-rotting sweet, but she only gets to bask in it for a second before you widen your eyes and lower your voice to a scandalized whisper. “You what?”

Ellie rolls her eyes, cheeks burning, “Oh, fuck you.”

Your laugh fills up the room and the fluttering in her stomach feels absurd at this point, like she would actually be able to feel those annoying little butterflies flying around if she were to press her hand against her abdomen. “Sorry, sorry,” you say, and for a terrifying second Ellie thinks maybe they're loud too, and you’re able to hear them. But then she looks at you and forgets about it, easy easy easy. “It’s really okay. You know that, yeah?”

“Yeah,” she says. For once, there's not a glimpse of doubt about it to be found.

You watch another ten minutes of the movie in silence before your dad's head peeks out from the kitchen to call you both to the table for dinner.

Ellie has a habit of eating like it's her last day on earth. When you were both new residents of Jackson, hungry and scared and not at all used to the idea of a full plate of food twice a day, she couldn't help it. And you were the same, hence why your dad thought it would be good for you and Ellie to spend time together, which quickly turned to being around each other basically every minute of every day. But as the weeks passed, you seemed to be learning to adapt faster. A younger Ellie found this frustrating— especially after that time Joel complimented your table manners.

You’re just… nicer, she remembers saying, a stressed frown on her still childlike face, fiddling with a box of marbles she’d found under her new bed. She remembers how you pulled one out, your fingers brushing against her own for the first time ever, and held the clear crystal with green stripes next to her eyes, a satisfied smile at a practically perfect match. You’re nice too, Els, you’d said, shrugging your shoulders, the marble shoved inside your pocket, I think I just lie better.

Until that moment, Ellie had never thought about it that way; the fact that you could be pretending to feel more confident and comfortable than you really are to make yourself safer, to get people to like you. But when she asked, you swore you had never lied to Ellie. She used to drive herself mad thinking about that, a strange, confusing worry gnawing at her chest— she likes that you don't feel the need to lie, but what does it say about how you see her? Is it that you don't care if she likes you? Or worse, is it that you know that she already does?

You sit in front of her today at the same dinner table, four years later, and watch her practically inhale her bowl of pasta like no time has passed at all. You let out a snort and Ellie wonders if you can see it even now, if her constant thoughts of you are obvious even when she looks this busy.

"What?" she asks, an immediate frown on her face, though she's done you the honor of swallowing her mouthful before speaking.

"You're so gross," you say, chin resting on your palm, tilting your head like you're looking at some thought provoking art piece. Ellie thinks you'll leave it at that, but then you reach over and swipe your thumb over the red spot of sauce next to the corner of her lips, so soft she barely feels it. You watch her frown soften for a second before it becomes even deeper.

Ellie feels like her whole body is exploding with warmth, too hot under the hoodie she's wearing, too pink across her face. It's so obvious, she thinks, it's so— fuck, pull it together. Her gaze follows your finger as you bring it to your lips and lick off the sauce. “You’re disgusting,” she retorts lamely, her hand rough when she brushes it over her mouth, lest you notice another stain and she has to watch you do that again.

You are familiarly not deterred by her meanness. Or her attempt at it. "And you eat like a five year old,” you shrug. “I guess we both have our issues."

Ellie catches herself staring at your hands for the rest of the meal, certain that she's never noticed them in the same way before. How much time has she been wasting? You both have your issues, you'd said, but Ellie thinks she has you beat. Yours can't possibly be anywhere near this dangerous.

─────✧･ﾟ: *✧･

TWO!

Someone's knocking on her door. Ellie sniffles and lets out a groan as she gets up from the couch, sore throat, her limbs heavy and tired. She knows it's you because it's always the same three knocks; the first two firm and loud, a pause, and then one tiny one that sounds almost like 'sorry'. You’re impatient but still painfully afraid to be rude— if she loved you a little less, Ellie thinks she would make fun of it a lot more. But alas, she's cursed to smile at it every time.

She opens the door and the breeze that slips in makes her fall immediately into an embarrassing coughing fit. “It’s fine,” she mutters, at the same time you’re saying jesus christ, Ellie. “Shit. I’m okay,” she clears her throat and finally gets a moment to look at you, all pretty and put together in your best shirt and a freshly showered scent, the sun setting behind you like a perfect frame. Ellie prays her lungs don't betray her again and tries to make the brush of her hand over her messy hair look casual instead of desperate.

“Well, I was gonna ask if you wanted to come to the party with me for just a few minutes, but… I’m not sure you should be out of bed,” your worried frown is pretty, too. What a cruel fate. “Is Joel home? I can stay—”

“No, no, you’re good,” Ellie shakes her head, arms crossed over her chest like maybe it’ll cover up enough and you won't notice she was wearing the same long sleeve the last time you saw her. “He’ll be here in like, five minutes. I’ll be fine, ’m not a baby.”

You’re both nineteen by this time, Ellie remembers because you wore the same pretty blue shirt that you're wearing now for her birthday, and it was the day she realized her crush was no longer deniable. It's easier to act like nothing’s happening when she feels like she's alone in it, like there's no universe where you could love her like she loves you so she might as well let the fantasy die— but then you put on your shirt that's reserved for special occasions just to come over and bring her the cupcake you made, and suddenly Ellie can picture herself with her hands on each side of your waist, pulling you close, saying thank you with her lips brushing against yours before she kisses you. She can see it so clearly that it startles her, changes everything. Her birthday comes with a punch to the gut and a hunger she wants to tell you and only you about.

“You’re not gonna be bored? I really don't mind staying until he gets home.”

Ellie thinks (dramatically, extremely nineteen—) that if she lets you take care of her, she might actually die. It felt like she almost did last time you visited, your face serious with concentration as you pressed the back of your hand against her forehead. ‘You're warm’, you said, ‘do you feel sweaty?’ Ellie stared up at you, eyes glossy and heavy from sleep. ‘Not really’, her fingers sneaked out from under the blanket to wrap themselves around your forearm, a moment of bravery or delusion, ‘your hand feels nice’. You chuckled, ‘okay, keep it’.

She’s less feverish today, but not yet recovered from the greedy voice in her head that begs her to keep you close. If you don't go to the party now, she thinks (knows) that she’ll let herself casually talk you into staying the rest of the night. “Nah, don't miss your party,” she says. “I’ll be okay, Joel’s gonna teach me how to play that old card game.”

You raise your eyebrows. “So you're gonna argue all night.”

“No— what?” Ellie scoffs. “It’ll be good, I learn fast.”

“Yeah, because you make up your own rules.”

“I have questions about the rules, that's not the same thing.”

“It is if you cheat—”

“I’m not a cheater!”

You hum, a curious tilt of your head, and Ellie rolls her eyes before the words are even out of your mouth. “No, I guess you’d have to have a girlfriend for that.”

You watch her run her tongue over her teeth, her shoulder against the door frame. “You know I could say the same to you, right?”

“Too bad I said it first,” you shrug, pretty smile stretching your lips. “I guess I'll go, then. I’ll come over when it's done so you don't miss me too much.”

Ellie tries to maintain her composure. You know, she thinks, do you know? You must know. You can't know— “Right. Also so you can steal my food and crash in my bed, I’m guessing.”

“When you’re all vulnerable and weak? What do you think of me, Ellie?” you frown sadly, a hand over your heart.

“I think I know you,” she says, the corner of her lips lifting just a little, inescapably.

You walk to the gate and turn around as you close the lock, your hands on either side of your mouth as if she’s miles and miles away. “I’ll take the couch!”

“Yeah, sure!” Ellie yells back, her voice pretty even when it's hoarse, knowing she’ll hold on for just about ten minutes before she insists you take the bed instead.

Joel stays awake with her until around 10pm, when his yawns become too many to hide and he’s already let Ellie win three games, his smile genuine and wide while she chuckles and pretends she doesn’t notice. He leaves her with a tupperware of soup for tomorrow’s lunch and a deck of cards. To teach your friends or— I don't know, keep on the coffee table, he’d said, make you look cool. Ellie’s not sure you would find a box of cards ‘cool’, but she’s not above trying.

Ever since she moved out to the garage, she’s discovered a new type of stress at the notion of having you over. At Joel’s house, all she ever did to prepare for guests was pick up the dirty clothes from her bedroom floor and put her books in a (wobbly) single pile. Now things are different. The garage is small, but it's all hers— her floor, her living room, her kitchen. She can't have you thinking that she can't take care of things on her own.

She spends the next hour moving things around until finally, two loud knocks. A second passes; Ellie looks at the cards and considers shoving them inside one of the drawers on her desk. By the time the one quiet knock comes, she shrugs and decides to leave them on the coffee table, lest Joel was right and she misses a chance to have you start thinking she's cool and mysterious. “It's open,” she says from the couch, tiredness soon catching up with her after all that time rearranging things.

The door opens and you come in, quickly closing it behind you, a relieved sigh at the loss of that crisp, cold breeze outside. “Did Joel forget those?” you ask, bent at the waist as you take your shoes off, your chin pointing at the deck, the only thing on the coffee table. Maybe she should've been more subtle with it.

“Uh, no,” Ellie scratches the back of her neck, her legs stretched across the couch. “They’re a gift.”

She's not sure you hear her over the groan you make as you stretch your arms above your head, her legs moved to the side automatically to make space for you to sit. You fall down with a sigh and both forget about the cards— you, distracted by the warm tingly feeling of a couple drinks, and Ellie by the new jacket you’re wearing.

She lets a million different scenarios spin around her head for a couple seconds before she blurts out the question. “Whose is that?”

“What?” you turn your head away from the movie playing on the TV.

“The jacket.”

“Oh,” you look down at yourself as if you’ve just remembered it’s there. “Maya was leaving too, so she walked here with me. It’s hers.”

Ellie hums, her back sliding a little further down the couch, legs spread. “Stinks like it’s hers.”

You chuckle before you can help it, her animosity ridiculous and charming— Ellie’s better with actions than she is with words. “I don't even know what you're talking about,” you shake your head, not quite slurring, but not too far from it either. "She smells like strawberries."

Fuck Maya and her strawberry shampoo. Ellie could get some if she wanted to, maybe if she traded— what the fuck is she thinking about? She rolls her shoulders back and pushes the thoughts away, gluing her eyes to the screen. “Sure,” she says, less because she agrees and more because she doesn't wanna hear what else you like about Maya. “You had fun, then?”

“It was alright. You didn't miss out on too much,” the end of your sentence stretched out by a yawn, you cover your mouth lazily and rest back fully against the couch. “Jesse was drunk. They had to stop him from getting up on a table.”

Ellie chuckles. “I don't know, maybe he had something to say. I think I would’ve let him.”

“That's what I said,” you smile and let your head fall to the side, your cheek against the cushion. She feels you staring, enables it for a while by acting oblivious, falsely over-invested in some movie she can't remember the title of. She hears you move closer before she feels it— the shuffle of your clothes, the stupid jacket rubbing against her couch, so easily forgettable by the time your temple falls on her shoulder.

Ellie's about to fall asleep when she hears the little noise you make, something like a sniffle. For a worrying second she thinks she might’ve given you her cold, but then she feels the tip of your nose brush against her shoulder and she realizes you’re trying to breathe her in. 

“You always smell nice,” you whisper, half asleep.

Ellie swallows and prays to keep her body completely still, scared she’ll make the wrong move and have you pull away, scared you’ll lean closer and be able to hear the fast beating on her chest. She sounds breathy, “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you say. “Like fresh rain.”

Slow like the roll of credits playing on the TV, Ellie feels how every muscle in her body settles down, relaxed, content— fucking cocky. She wraps her arm around your shoulders and hopes the scent will rub off on the jacket and remind Maya of a cloudy autumn night, rain over her garden.

─────✧･ﾟ: *✧･

THREE!

"Do you think we would've liked each other?" you ask, your legs resting on her lap while she fidgets mindlessly with the ruffled cuff of your socks. Every patrol lately ends the exact same way, a quiet walk home and a joint on Ellie’s couch. "Back when the world was normal?”

Ellie turns to look at you, blinking lazily, a reddish hue over her green. You’re not sure if she's more tired or high, but either way you're not doing much better— everything you’ve said during the past hour is the kind of thought you have when you're alone at night and your brain wanders, moments away from falling asleep. It's a meaningless question, but Ellie lets out a soft hum and thinks about it like it's worth considering. You're not sure if anyone you’ve met in your whole twenty years of life is as willing to indulge you as she is.

"Yeah," she says decidedly, in the same tone with which one would say duh. "We—" a yawn cuts her off, slender hand rubbing one of her eyes. "We would be friends, like, in college."

"I wouldn't be in college.”

Ellie frowns, takes one last inhale and discards the joint to the ashtray on her coffee table. "Why not?"

"'Cause I'm not smart like you," you shrug.

The fold between her eyebrows deepens. "You're smart," she argues, with enough conviction that you almost believe her, insisting, "You are."

"In other ways, sure—” Ellie opens her mouth to interrupt but you get ahead of her, “I’m not trying to talk badly about myself, I just don't think college would be for me.”

You’ve never been the most disciplined. It’s hard to imagine yourself staying up late to study, taking diligent notes in class. It feels ridiculous.

“I’d be working somewhere, I think. Making coffee for people or something.”

Ellie pauses before she nods, adjusting her daydream to what you’re saying, strangely committed. "Then we would meet there,” she makes it sound like the easiest thing in the world, a natural equation. “I'd go get coffee from you."

You chuckle. "You don't even like coffee that much."

Ellie shrugs, soft pink lips curved in a smirk that tells you she's sleepy and serves to warn you of the horror that's about to come out of her mouth.

You groan. “Don't—”

"Maybe I like the pretty girl that's making it."

“Awful,” you push her shoulder away, barely any force behind it, her giggles swimming comfortably around your head. “Never speak again.”

"Not my best work?" she asks, her fingers wrapping lazily around your shin. Too much, her brain warns, but then she remembers the pad of your finger over the back of her hand last night, the cursive lines with no purpose other than to be touching her— and it feels right, or like it's not enough. Too much soon turns to coward.

"Possibly your worst.”

She might be going crazy, but lately Ellie feels like you’re looking at her differently. In your eyes there's something gentle, awaiting, a tracing of your eyes over her face that says please. She chews on her lip, her eagerness painful. “We would like each other,” she doesn't think there's a world where you wouldn't, and if there was… "I'd make you like me."

You raise your eyebrows, teasing, "Oh, so like now?"

Her lips part with genuine surprise, more amused than offended. “...I made you, huh?” 

You regret the joke as soon as it comes out of your mouth, immediately brought back to your fourteen year old self, lonely and admittedly captivated by the auburn haired girl from next door. Flashes of you rushing to catch up with her, untied laces on your too tight sneakers, Ellie, do you wanna be friends? The sound of pages shuffling and her voice reading in whispers in the dead of night because you asked, can you talk to me until I fall asleep? Infatuated from the beginning, obsessed. Even now, on her couch, after spending a whole day together— do you like me? Would you like me, always?

A pillow crashes against the side of her face, her laugh almost louder than the embarrassed pounding of your heart. You pull your legs from her lap and lie back, fold your arms over your face. “You're so annoying.”

A lie so obvious it makes Ellie smile. She shifts to crawl closer, one knee on either side of you. “C’mon, I was joking,” she leans forward and you feel her knuckles tap your arm like she’s knocking on a door. The power to make you shy is still foreign to her, makes her feel drunk, thrilled. She doesn't remember having it before, but of course it was there. In little ways, in daily, simple things. Your eyes always looking for her first in any room, lighting up even after an especially bad pun, tracing her arms when the day becomes too hot to keep her jacket on. You like her, of course. How much time has she been wasting? The breath she lets out feels like it's been waiting to be let go, years spent stuck in her lungs. Ellie wraps her fingers around one of your wrists, her voice sweet, achingly soft. “Want me to tell you why I know I’d like you?”

You lower your arms just slightly, eyes peering up at her.

“Yeah?” she tilts her head.

You nod, arms coming down, unusually quiet.

Ellie grins, victorious. “Okay, but fair warning— it's worse than the coffee thing.”

You chuckle. “Is it?”

“Very.”

“Hm,” you hum, pretending to think about it, distracted by the vision of her practically sitting on top of you. Freckled face framed by the hair that's escaped her usual bun, softly lit by the warmth of the lamp on her desk. “Alright,” you say finally.

It takes Ellie a second to respond, momentarily dazed by the thought of being pretty enough for you to ogle like this. She clears her throat. “You ready?”

You tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear and away from her eyes. “Sure.”

Ellie waits for the nerves to come, but even as she parts her lips to speak, they never do. What a kind fate. “I know I’d like you because nothing’s ever made more sense to me— I’ve been doing it since I was a kid. I like you enough for a million lifetimes.”

You look at each other, bask in a moment of understanding. Your eyes on her lips, a hand on her waist that pulls her closer. “That was worse,” you agree.

Ellie moves to rest on her forearms, cages you in, her nose brushing against yours. “I told you.”

She waits, feels herself count once again, a final time, one, two—

A hand against the back of her neck brings her in and the quiet noise of her surprise vibrates against your lips, makes her smile into the kiss for just a second before the hunger takes over. Her hips readjusting over yours, knees pressing against your sides, Ellie kisses like it's a need rather than a whim. She takes and takes and swallows every sigh you make like it's a gift, four, five, six seconds of a messy trail of kisses down your neck to say thank you before she resurfaces again.

“Love you,” she breathes out, because suddenly all that talk about ‘like’ feels stupid— immature, incomparable to what she actually feels for you. “Need you.”

You moan against her lips and it's her favorite sound in the whole world, immediately, as quick as realizing she would fall in love with you the day she met you. “Love you, Ellie.”

A kiss to your clavicle, your hands pulling at her shirt and her thigh between yours. She makes you say it three more times.

[thesunloveschips]

Obsessed - Part 4 (Azriel x Reader)

Summary: Feelings and desires finally come forward.

A/n: Apologies for the delay, I was busy giggling and blushing. THE SMUT FINALLY BEGINS!!!!!

Warnings: oral sex (female receiving), Azriel (that's it. he's the warning. he's too hot)

Click here for Obsessed (Masterlist)

****

Needless to say, Azriel and his listening devices heard Y/n’s side of her conversation with Nesta. She must’ve had a voice call. He'd patiently listened to her crying and the anguish as she discussed her feelings with Nesta. 

From how the call had concluded, Nesta must’ve probably told her to be careful no matter what. 

Azriel was not interested in how to break Y/n’s walls. Walls were there for a reason. He was interested in becoming eligible for entry and working towards being the right choice and making her realise that. 

It was obviously better for her to accept him rather than him forcing her to do that. Especially after all the shit Y/n faced towards the end of her bachelor’s degree. 

Fifty eight days had passed since he first laid eyes on Y/n in that barely lit club with too much noise. Ever since her call with Nesta five days ago, there was a new wall. 

They’d say hello but she deflected his every attempt to spend time together whether it was dinner or grocery shopping. 

It was eating him up. Maybe there was something else he’d missed. Something she might not have told Nesta for any reason. Or maybe she’d had that conversation outside the apartment.

And Azriel was determined to find out. 

It was a Friday. Her classes ended at four in the evening. She’d study in the library for god knows how long whenever classes ended early like this but she was also nearing her period. That meant she’d study at home where she could comfortably snack in case of premenstrual cravings.

Azriel had finished up his work and sat on the sofa near his door, waiting to hear her footsteps and the sound of her keys. He waited for nearly an hour before he heard her. Impatience made him rise and open the door in a hurry. 

Y/n looked at him wide eyed as she was just about to turn the keys and open her own door. 

“Azriel.” His name was a whisper and he took that as an encouragement to take two steps closer. 

“Why are you so distant these days?” He was done waiting. He was done pretending that her fear to face her feelings wasn’t hurting him. 

“I’m not.” She quickly responded. Too quickly.

“You don’t sass me around, joke with me, boss me, or even look at me properly. And I’m done pretending that this is not affecting me.”

And she watched him wide eyed, her lips parted. He wanted her to say something. Cry. Scream. The silence has become despicable since it was only a reminder of her absence. 

“I. .” She looked at her hand on the doorway as her thumb scratched the wooden frame. 

“Did I offend you in any way? I’d like to understand exactly what it is and apologise. I had no intention of hurting you in any way and I still do not.” Yes. Azriel was yearning. For her, for her attention. 

“You didn’t offend me.” She was once again quick to respond. “I just. .” And she looked away, eyes shut tightly and her mouth closed as if she didn’t want to give him any response.

“Y/n.” And she immediately looked at him as if he’d never said her name before. 

She didn’t know how much he loved her name. How much he wanted to call for her whenever he entered the apartment. How much he wanted her to be there and to simply embrace her warmly and tell her he was home.

****

Y/n had never heard Azriel desperate. He was bold and unwavering. He seemed like the type of man who would make others desperate. 

But here he was, calling her name as if it was a prayer for her to come to him. 

Avoiding Azriel only resulted in her carefully constructed walls suffocating her. She was so used to his presence in her life. 

It was not just the talking, dinner, and the grocery shopping but it was also the silence. Sbe simply liked to be in his presence, either not doing anything or doing her own work. The knowledge that he was nearby gave her heart a rest. 

And she faltered. 

She held her tears and wiped her eyes before they fell. 

“Y/n.” Azriel reached her in two large strides and held her like she was all that he’d ever wanted. All that mattered. 

“I won’t cry.” She was stubborn about that. Because her feelings for him were beautiful. 

Many spent their lives insulting beauty and then regretting their inability to appreciate it. Rarely did people actually appreciate it. 

And she was determined not to waste time. “I like you.” 

Azriel went rigid against her. 

Oh.

Oh. 

She pulled back to see his face. He truly had entered into some sort of trance. 

She’d just slapped her feelings on him without considering what he’d feel. Sure, he saw her as a good friend but he probably also saw her as a sister since he’d patted her head a few times. 

Maybe, all he felt was something platonic or sibling-like.

“Pretend you didn’t hear that.” Y/n wriggled out of his embrace and turned to her door with her key. 

As soon as she unlocked and opened it, a large hand came from behind and covered her hand which was on the handle. 

Azriel’s face came next to her shoulder, his entire body mere inches behind her. And he closed the door. 

The other hand extended from the other side of her head and she was now effectively trapped. 

This was beginning to feel like a very dirty dream that could end with both of them against this door. 

She inhaled to gather courage and turned to look at him. Azriel’s face remained there before he let his head fall to her shoulder. 

“Y/n. .” It was a tone she’d never heard. He sounded like he was aching. Tortured, even. “How do I even begin with you, sweetheart?” 

Something crashed in her head. What was he saying? Why was he calling her sweetheart? A term that gave birth to hope.

He lifted his head and looked at her like she’d answered all his prayers and doubts. Like he had attained some divine level of clarity. “I’m quite certain that I like you more than you like me.”

She remained still for a few seconds before a smile touched her lips. Y/n pressed her forehead against his and whispered. “This is not a competition.” 

“No, it isn’t. This is us.”

“Us.” She affirmed and he gently kissed her lips. 

Y/n suddenly realised that she was trapped between him and the door and his arms caging her in. She kissed him a second longer. Her one hand was still on the door handle. At some point, the other had moved to cradle his head. 

The next kiss was not sweet. It was all tongue and need. Azriel pulled her waist towards him and she could feel his cock against her ass. 

“Let me take you somewhere.” Azriel whispered against her lips. 

“With this?” She pushed against his cock, feeling mischievous. 

“Tease all you want, Y/n. I’ll make you beg soon.” He thrust his hips against her. 

She somehow pulled back. “We’re still in the corridor.”

“And?” He nipped her ear and Y/n could feel her resolve mist away into nothing. 

“There are cameras.” Reason was evaporating and she had to cling to it. Y/n really was not interested in another tenant or any delivery man seeing them.

“Kiss me again.” She obliged his request far too easily and found herself twirled with her back against her door. 

Y/n continued to be greedy, fingers combing Azriel’s hair from his nape. She pulled his hair and pressed herself more and more against him. And obviously, none of it was enough. 

She wanted more of him. And the more he gave her, the more wanton she became. 

“Lock your apartment, sweetheart. We’re going to mine.” Azriel spun her so that she’d lock the door but she was barely able to focus with his lips on her neck. She fumbled with the key against the lock but she managed to insert it. 

“Or shall I take you right here?” A large hand squeezed her breast. Her body arched, ass pressing harder against the bulge poking from his pants. 

She really needed those pants gone. 

“We can explore voyeurism later.” Y/n finally twisted the key and locked the door. She turned around as she pocketed her keys. 

“Would you like that?” Azriel took her hand, eyes blazing with desire and a hint of amusement. “The thrill of being caught?” He led her to his own apartment where the door was still open. “Or is it being watched?”

“I like privacy.” Azriel continued to kiss her temple and trailed down to her jaw. He was all too eager to throw her bag and coat away. “Although the possibility that someone may see is. .” 

Y/n sighed and did not continue because Azriel was busy with her neck. Wet kisses and gentle nips escalated to a harsh suck. Her back arched easily. The thrill of being seen was now an abandoned topic. 

“Off.” She pulled against his grey sweater. Azriel hoisted Y/n, set her on the dining table, and proceeded to remove his sweater. 

An odd mixture of anticipation and anxiety swirled in her abdomen. She always knew that Azriel was larger than her but seeing that broad chest with ink in intricate swirls and patterns that extended till his arms was a sight. 

Curly hair, golden brown skin, tattoos, muscles, an insanely attractive face, and she whimpered at the sight. 

He threw the sweater somewhere and placed his arms on either side of her, once again caging her. He was leaning in. He was closer. And Y/n whimpered as she processed that much information and shut her eyes tightly.

“What is it?” He was now alarmed. Y/n simply leaned her forehead against his chest as she caught her breath. “Y/n?”

“You’re too. . .” She whined. “Too perfect.” 

In all honesty, Y/n tried. 

She tried to look at his face. 

To meet his gaze. 

But the hunger in his eyes as he watched her, tongue darting out to wet his lips, curly hair all messed up, and the unavoidably attractive body made it difficult. 

In a swift movement, Azriel grabbed Y/n and thrust his hips against hers, groaning at the friction. “Do you feel my cock?”

What else could she feel? 

“This is all your doing.” A hand grabbed her throat and made her look at him. 

“Take responsibility like a good girl.” He pressed against her, the clothes now only a nuisance. “And I’ll reward you so well.”

Yes.

She wanted to be his good girl. She’d gladly take responsibility for that cock. 

Y/n peered down and saw the tattoo beneath his navel that disappeared into his pants. She wanted to remove his pants, see the entirety of that tattoo, lick his cock. 

Y/n placed a hand on that bulge and gently caressed it with her palm before grabbing him properly. A groan escaped Azriel and she was beginning to accept the power that came with arousing this man. 

“Yes.”She placed a hand on his chest and gently pushed him. Azriel immediately complied, moving away. 

And Y/n removed her sweater and chemise in one go. Her bra remained and he closed in immediately, looking at her as if he’d never seen her before. 

She moved her hands behind her and unclasped the hook. The strain on her breasts was no more once the bra was removed and Azriel immediately kissed her again, softly and deeply. 

They progressed again towards red hot desire now that they could feel each other’s bodies more. He descended to her neck, collarbone and sucked on the skin right above her breasts.   

Those large hands squeezed her waist and hips and seemed to explore as though he was studying her.

Y/n found herself moaning and arching pushing towards him. She tried to explore his back with her hands and yet there seemed to be more area left as a testament to how large he was compared to her. 

His mouth wrapped around a nipple, softly licking it. It seemed like he was slowing down but once he spread his spit enough, Azriel flicked his tongue on the peak. 

Y/n loved it. Her hands on his hair and neck, scratching and tugging. Her breasts were free and worshipped. Azriel was all over her. 

Her elbows were supporting her upper body against the table as Azriel continued to work his mouth and hand on her breasts. 

Azriel paused and looked at her as if to remind her that he was insatiable at this point. His hands came to her hips and then to her thighs and he hooked a finger on one of the belt loops and pulled it. “May I?” 

Y/n was absolutely ready for this man to do whatever he wanted to her. Her legs were already spread and she nodded once. “Yes.” 

Azriel unbuckled her belt and the sound of it excited her. So did the sound of the zipper. 

His mouth against hers was another wonderful experience, tongue exploring her mouth as if he was searching for something. 

Her hips had to rise in order for the jeans to be pulled down but Y/n was sort of sitting and supporting her body on elbows if that was anything. 

In one smooth motion, Azriel stepped to the side, grabbed and lifted her legs with one hand and removed her pants till the hip with the other hand. He set her down gently before getting rid of the obstructive piece of clothing before returning. 

“Where were we?” His hands on her thighs was a surreal experience. Spreading her so nicely. Those tattooed fingers against her skin had such power and his touch felt electric. 

Fingers closed in on her inner thighs, teasing her as they played with the edge of her panties. She heard the sound of wood being clumsily dragged and she found that he’d pulled a chair and sat down. 

Y/n thought she was ready but Azriel quickly erased that misconception when a finger suddenly entered her. 

An obscene sound escaped her and she suddenly pulled him closer by his neck, her back arching. 

It had been a while since she’d had sex. Needless to say, it was a surprise for both of them.

“Sweetheart, have you never. .” Azriel trailed away, searching her face for an answer to a question. Y/n opened her eyes and saw his shock, immediately understanding what he wanted to ask. 

“It’s been a long time.” She responded, taking her time to get used to him. Gods, it was just one finger and she could not get rid of the feeling even with how wet she was. 

She was still breathing heavily since that one finger had been enough to leave her breathless. Her eyes closed as pain slowly gave way to pleasure. 

Fuck it. At this rate, she’d need more time to get used to sex altogether. And with how big and thick Azriel was, she’d probably need a few days. “I’m here, Y/n.”

He was so good, whispering words of comfort and affirmation. Tell her she was beautiful and that they’d go at her pace and how good she felt around his finger. 

It didn’t matter how much she wanted him to lose control with her because it’d probably hurt her with how she was currently. 

“Move.” She whined, holding his shoulders for dear life. Azriel slowly moved his finger and Y/n kept gasping. 

“Y/n, if you ever want to stop-”

“Are you insane?” She meant to sound strict but she was still processing the pleasure. “I-ah.”

Y/n could see how difficult it was for him to restrain. Desire bordering on determination to keep her needs first. 

Azriel removed his finger and before she could complain, he moved her panties aside and sucked her clit harshly. 

She had no control over herself and he easily grabbed her legs and placed them over his shoulders. Her hand moved to his head, fingers combing through his hair and grabbing them. 

Her grip loosened and tightened in tandem with his tongue’s ministrations. Azriel was very much interested in teasing her towards the edge. 

Y/n took a peek at him as he slowed down. Azriel met her gaze, raising a brow with such arrogance, she pushed his face against her cunt. A laugh reverberated through her skin. 

His tongue relentlessly flicked against her clit and his finger slowly re-entered her. It felt easier since she’d been stretched for it earlier. 

Azriel reached places her own fingers had never reached and he took his time exploring before Y/n trembled and moaned louder than she had so far.

She knew he’d realised what that spot was, how it would affect her. And he was simply teasing her. Trailing around, reaching everywhere except where she needed him the most. Her impatience rose and her needs increased. 

“Az!” He hummed against her, the vibration carrying another wave of pleasure. “More.” He obliged with another finger. 

Y/n jolted when she heard something loud. Azriel removed his mouth from her cunt, kicked away the chair he’d been sitting on, and rose to his height. 

He set her legs down and pulled her closer to the edge of the table, his fingers still inside her. His hand found her throat as he pulled her into a searing kiss. A tear fell from her eye. And then another. 

“Azriel.” The sight of him hovering over her in all that dark glory was too alluring and she couldn’t look away. Even seeing him made her quiver.

“What do you want, sweetheart?” 

She whimpered when his fingers started slowing and frantically looked up at him. “Your mouth and. . your fingers hnnghh.” 

“My pretty girl.” Azriel kissed her cheek and kneeled and tapped her thighs. “On my shoulders.” She obeyed immediately. 

Tears trailed down her cheeks. Y/n didn’t even know if she was moaning or crying. Both his hands were now holding her thighs apart and Azriel aimed to please her as he gently bit her clit while adding another finger. 

It was too much now. He was now increasing the intensity and the speed, as if her pleasure was his sole purpose. She was falling at an insane speed and she was so close.

Azriel did not let go, licking the life out of her. At some point, she had completely laid down on the table and had begun thrusting her hips against his face. Her eyes remained closed, a hand playing with her nipple while the other clutched his scalp. 

“Please, please, please. . .” Y/n continued begging. Whether it was for him to continue or to stop, even she didn’t know. She gasped and breathed and moaned and finally felt herself shatter. 

Her body trembled and she was hauling all the air in as she breathed. Her tears stopped, eyes still closed, and she let go of his hair. 

Y/n felt Azriel’s warmth close in as he rose to his height and leaned towards her. “So fucking pretty.” 

He pulled her by the waist towards him, the other hand cradling her head, and she didn’t even have the energy to support herself against him. She felt his thick cock poking at her belly again.

Y/n looked up at him, desperate and exhausted. “Az.” 

“What is it?”

“What about you?” 

“Impatient, are we?” He teased with a faint smile. Azriel leaned in and kissed her softly. 

When he pulled back, he looked like an insatiable beast, desire darkening his golden gaze. “Breathe all the air in, Y/n, because I’m going to fuck it out of you soon.”

****

Taglist:

@fantanbietsson @angstylittleb1tch @fhgsvbnh @olive-main @cherryjain17 @halo-mystic @starofanotherworld @latinxbipride @viatorem-maris @acotarbestie @sevikas-whore @anthonys-viscountess @randomgurl2326 @thelov3lybookworm @cat-or-kitten @mortqlprojections @tele86 @rorel1a @red0202 @atomictyphoonkitten @colorfulgardenerduck @scarsandallaz @anonymousdisco @rcarbo1 @workof-a-rr-t @fuckingsimp4azriel @isabella13dusk @donnadiddadog @yannnnooooxoxox-blog @nxgh1 @thedeviltohisangel @katherinebright @fandomtrash5092 @epicsweetness712 @anik-4

[florihye]

( ♡ )⠀𝒆𝒏𝒉𝒚𝒑𝒆𝒏 as . . . 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑏𝑜𝑦𝑓𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑛𝑑 .ᐟ ❝ boy you're such a dream to me ❞ ꒷꒦ ot7 𝑒𝑛ℎ𝑎 𝜗𝜚 ⟢ headcanons & established relationship fluff ৲ 𝖒𝖞 𝔞𝔫𝔤𝔢𝔩𝔰 ㅤ ♡ ㅤ

𐙚 . . via's entry ❫ ilysm plz enjoy my first thingy, 2239wc | fem reader .

✦ . . 이희승 ！

bf!heeseung who does aegyo for you and only you! he’d make sure no one else was in close proximity and then go “heedeungie!!” before cringing, and shutting his eyes closed, only reopening them to see your pretty smile.

bf!heeseung who always knows what you want, even if u’ve just glanced at a cute plushie at the store for one second best bet he’ll buy you every plushie from that brand, becoz ur his prince(ss) ofc

bf!heeseung who’d write little romantic ballads for you and call you randomly throughout the day (even during sleep hours!) so that you can hear his melodic voice sing the most shakespearean lyrics about his love for u 🥰

bf!heeseung who is like a bf and a therapist all in one! literally send as many voice messages ranting abt ur life as u can to him becoz he will listen to all of them and then respond with a voice message 10x longer

bf!heeseung who gets a bit impatient… likes listening to u talk but did u know that if u go longer than 42.32 seconds without kissing him he will eventually just stare at your lips and mumble random words while u rant every now and then; it gets you all hot and flustered when you realize where his attention actually is. soon enough, you just go “just kiss me if you want to.” and that’s enough for him to look back up at you, grin and softly press his lips against yours (contrary to popular opinion his kisses would be very soft! 🤓☝️) while grabbing both your shoulders with his hands

bf!heeseung who loves ur shoulders for some reason?? i just have this gut feeling that his favorite part about you is your shoulders?? like idk why, my heeseung senses r just tingling. anyways yes, he’d rest his head on your shoulders, kiss ur shoulders, put his arms over your shoulders and around your neck and whatnot!

✦ . . 박종성 ！

bf!jay who’d spent astronomical amounts of money (willingly :)) in just a week!! he refuses to buy you cheap counterparts, expensive is what his pretty lover deserves !

bf!jay WHO WOULD COOK THE MOST GOURMET MEALS FOR YOU! if it is a cultural dish, he will take time out of his day to cook in the kitchen with you until he learns how to make said cultural dish, then he will make it for u 4ever and ever!!! jay is certainly a caring partner

bf!jay who gives u sm partner privilege it’s insane. like he’d do anything for you without a second doubt. ask him to help you look for ur phone? no need, he’s already bought you 10 different new ones!

bf!jay who is such a romantic partner?? like if ur at work late, he will set up a whole candlelit dinner (hand made cuisine) with “moonlight” by kali uchis playing in the background. (jay looks like that song :3)

bf!jay likes tracing his fingers over your delicately placed features like you were sculpted by Greek Gods, and he’s nothing but a mere commoner admiring your beauty.

bf!jay gets matching things for you two ☹️ matching pandora rings, matching shoes/heels, what is there that he wouldn’t wear to twin with you! hell, he’d even do that cute thing where he matched the color of his tie to your dress!

bf!jay who does likes to go out with you, but he also likes to stay in! no matter what, he wants to be with you.

bf!jay who thinks that reading a romcom cuddled up with you under rain is a perfect way to spend saturday afternoon! (hint: he doesn’t usually like to read romcoms, he just loves spending time with you too much to say no 💖)

to conclude, jay just loves to do things for you. he always tries to impress you/make himself the perfect boyfriend for you by planning dates, getting u gifts, and doing whatever you need at all times (i feel like he believes he’ll never be good enough for u 😕)

✦ . . 심재윤 ！

bf!jake who gets so shy around u?? like stop u could stare at him and when he finally notices he’ll giggle like a little girl about it. he has the biggest crush on you ever it’s unbelievable

“okay fine, i love you more than my dog. i love you more than anyone, actually. is that weird?”

bf!jake who is a playful and lighthearted person, he truly does not have the capability to get mad at you 💞

but ofc he’s human, so when you two (somehow) get into arguments, he’ll always be the one to show up at your door at like 3am with a cute pout on his face because he misses you (it’s been 6 hours since you guys have last talked??) anyways how could you say no to his puppy face! obviously, u let him in and you two cuddle the night away

bf!jake who calls you layla’s mom and gets like cuteness aggression when he sees you and layla together

bf!jake who would say “this is for you” before shooting a hoop (and missing) for shits n giggles

bf!jake who clings onto you like his life depends on it……. this guy is so clingy???? like stop u won’t be able to use your non dominant hand at all because jake is just grabbing onto it for dear life

bf!jake who would LOVEE if his girlfriend had soft and plush cheeks. he’d squish ur face and giggle continuously at how cute you looked, pouty-faced and all.

bf!jake who likes simple yet planned out dates. picnics, arcade dates, carnival dates, and more are all apart of his comfort zone! but if you wanted to try anything new, he’d totally be up for it

bf!jake who loves u sososo unconditionally and always sticks by your side!! he’s like the type to agree with you in public and softly correct you in private.

bf!jake who smothers you with affection hourly reminds you everyday that he loves ur hair, ur face, ur body, ur legs, ur hands, and most importantly, YOU!!!

✦ . . 박성훈 ！

bf!sunghoon who would take you on ice skating dates and then take photos of you slipping on the ice (which don’t even come out that good because he’s busy laughing 🙄 )

bf!sunghoon who teases you then smirks when you get flustered like you teasing him doesn’t result in him having a mental breakdown of some sorts??? like boy plz

bf!sunghoon WHO IS SO SASSY OVER TEXT?? he’s literally your princess. “🙄🫸” is his go to emoji combo

bf!sunghoon who posts mirror selfies of the two of you and tries to be mysterious in the captions: “me n my girl 🖤”

bf!sunghoon who learns random english phrases (or ur main language) to impress you with

bf!sunghoon who wants to match styles with his s/o. would love to be the classy, romantic, sort of private couple.

bf!sunghoon who isn’t that into pda but if someone else starts flirting with you or even looks at you he’ll start being all touchy until the other person goes away. he’s super protective of u but doesn’t really show it that often

bf!sunghoon who pretends to be annoyed when you steal his hoodies knowing damn well he likes when you take his hoodies because they always smell like you after you give them back!!!!!

bf!sunghoon who loves to go on late night walks with you. everytime he sees a wildflower, he’ll pluck it for you and tuck it in your hair

bf!sunghoon who definitely can not fall asleep unless he gets a goodnight kiss from you 💖

✦ . . 김선우 ！

as your boyfriend, sunoo would love your hair sm.

especially if you had long hair he’d buy you shampoos, conditioners, everything! he’d also love to blow dry your hair for you and style it and everything

bf!sunoo would 100% let you sit on his lap and practice your makeup on him!!

bf!sunoo who would love to bake with you!!!! like he would make cakes and then use icing to spell out you two’s intials on the top

bf!sunoo who’s favorite form of affection is holding hands 💞 he’d do the thumb thing and adores when you grabs his hand randomly throughout the day, it gives him butterflies!

bf!sunoo who gets you small bouquets of tulips everytime he sees you!

bf!sunoo who loves to lay on your chest while cuddling and listen to your heartbeat (not in a creepy way, it’s just super comforting for him)

bf!sunoo who places gentle kisses all over your face before you fall asleep. he always makes sure to fall asleep after you so you’re comfortable

bf!sunoo who goes over your drama with you and hates whoever you hate. he’s your best friend and your boyfriend all at once!

bf!sunoo who is insanely creative when it comes to date ideas. he will make sure that he is the one planning dates most/all of the time!! his favorites are picnics, art dates, café dates and museum dates!!

bf!sunoo who loves to have a runway show in your bedroom after every one of your shopping trips!! he would coordinate the outfits and then cheer you on as you strut down the hallway

sunoo would tease you (not that much tho) about your height (would love a short gf!!) and then giggle about it and you just have to accept it cuz it makes him happy and his smile is literally the prettiest thing ever

bf!sunoo who genuinely does not know how to hate you, he’d give the softest love ever ☹️

✦ . . 양정원 ！

bf!jungwon who loves to tickle you. ik it sounds weird but just hear me out 🥰 he’d definitely just tickle the side of your waist randomly while you guys are cuddling just to hear your laugh and annoy you

bf!jungwon who prefers to be called “won” or other nicknames/petnames by you rather than his real name. would pout if you ever called him “jungwon” and go “hey!”

bf!jungwon who keeps a collection of cute photos of you on his phone to go through when he misses u ☹️ it’s genuinely so wholesome.

bf!jungwon also would keep a folder of just a bunch of 0.5 photos of you doing random things and make them your pfp on all messaging apps.

bf!jungwon who does silly little tiktok couple trends with you whenever you ask him to

bf!jungwon would ask you to do a spin everyday to see your outfit and then gush about how good you look!!

bf!jungwon, who often stays up late at night with you while the two of you talk about the future family you will have. | a conversation between the two of you would go, “we’ll have two kids! or three? or four?” “no, we’ll have cats instead. two cats, and one of them is you!”

bf!jungwon who ruffles your hair teasingly only to fix it again, pulling at each strand and placing it in its place gently

bf!jungwon who texts you random romantic song lyrics throughout the day, which never fail to fluster you and make you giggle

bf!jungwon who is a sucker for cheek kisses. before you leave him, he’d be like “oh, you’re forgetting something :(“ and you’d always play along, “what?” you’d say with a giggle as he’d point to his cheek, the place where you’d leave a small but loving peck!

✦ . . 西村力 ！

bf!riki who gets butterflies whenever you call him his real name, riki, over his stage name. it makes him feel closer to you 💞

bf!riki who would make playlists for the two of you, naming them with you guys’ initials.

bf!riki who’d always had this fantasy of teaching his future girlfriend to dance, and that’s exactly what he does with you. he’d slowly wrap his arms around your own and guide them to the music.

bf!riki just would not let you get out of bed?? like every morning it’s a struggle for you 💔 “ni-ki let me go i’ll be late!” “no, 5 more minutes 😠” and how could u say no

bf!riki who always giggles in between kisses, causing you to pull away and lean your forehead on his while the two of you smile at one another fondly

bf!riki who LOVES to see u in his hoodies!! in fact, he’d even leave his hoodies at ur house just to see you wear it, and then tease you for it. “ew, give me back my hoodie, stinky.” he’d say, but in his head he’s kicking his feet at how ur body is engulfed by the cloth which is 10x too long for you.

bf!riki who pulls you out of bed late at night for impromptu 3AM walks to the convenience store.

bf!riki would teach you japanese and absolutely die everytime you try to say something in japanese for him

bf!riki who would tease you so much, especially if you were shorter than him, he’d misplace your things, putting them on high shelves and whatnot so you have no choice but to ask him to grab it for you

bf!riki who is super shy in front of other people, but when it’s just you two he gets super physical and touchy and affectionate!

bf!riki who mumbles sweet nothings into the crook of your neck while you two are cuddling after he’s sure you’ve fell asleep 💤 💖

tysm for reading!

⠀

[ninibeingdelulu]

"I missed you"

plot- he finally come back home CLICK ME

The empty house had felt suffocatingly hollow these past six months with Simon's absence.

Each day stretching into an agonizing purgatory devoid of his steadfast presence, his rich baritone rumble, the casual brushes of his sturdy frame against yours in passing...

But today, the emptiness at last lifted like a shroud of dread finally unraveling.

Today, Simon was finally coming home.

You busied yourself feverishly preparing his favorite dinner, fussing over every detail down to the pristine place setting - desperate to rekindle an atmosphere of long-coveted warmth and domesticity upon his return from the battlefield.

Nervous energy thrummed beneath your ribcage as you strained for the slightest herald of his arrival.

Then, the moment you'd been breathlessly awaiting finally graced reality - the unmistakable creak of the front door swinging wide accompanied by the measured cadence of those combat boots you'd know anywhere.

Whirling with a breathless gasp of pure elation, your gaze instantly drank in the familiar silhouette of your husband etched in the wavering daylight spilling through the entry.

Even beneath that ever-present ghastly skull mask, you'd recognize those powerfully squared shoulders and that signature languid prowl in an instant.

"Simon..."

His name slipped forth in a tremulous whisper misting with the first prickles of joyous tears blurring the edges of your vision.

In the next breath, you found yourself hurtling across the scant distance separating you - instinctively propelled into his outstretched embrace blissfully caging you once more in those unyielding arms corded with wiry muscle and sinew.

Your own slipped around his neck as you buried your face against the fever-warmth of his skin finally within reach again, gulping in heady lungfuls of his richly musky scent you'd been so painfully deprived of.

You barely registered his dexterous fingers working to hastily peel away the obstructing balaclava, desperate to reunite his lips with yours at last.

Only once that cloying barrier fell away did the first crystalline tears at last streak your flushed cheeks - overwhelmed by the sight of his beloved visage after so many months isolated behind the stark veils of that skull facade.

"Oh God, I missed you so damn much..." he rasped in that honeyed timbre reverberating straight down to your very marrow.

The reverent brush of his calloused palms cradling your face with the utmost gentleness somehow contrasted with the intensely smoldering ardor blazing in those grounding sienna spheres searching yours.

Unable to bear resisting a moment longer, you surged upwards and seized his mouth again in a searing, desperate kiss as if to physically reclaim the vital essence of his very being into your own.

Simon groaned into the searing exchange with unapologetic need - his powerful frame arching possessively into the swell of your curves as if intent on liquifying your very bones against his own.

"Never again..."

He growled the fervent oath between fevered brushes of your commingling lips.

"Not a single day goes by where I don't count down to the moment I can come home to you again. To see that smile...to breathe you in and feel that heartbeat against mine...it's the only thing that grounds my sanity on those desolate battlegrounds."

Chest heaving with emotion, you could only nod and clutch him nearer - your own fingers burrowing wantonly through those silken sable tresses with ravenous wonderment you still held the miraculous privilege to caress them once again after so many eternities torn apart.

Simon exhaled a shuddering breath, momentarily staggered by the unsurmountable tidal wave of affection and sheer relief to be encapsulated within your sanctuary once more.

Here, wrapped in your fearless devotion and profound reverence, his battered warrior's soul at last found the absolution - the inimitable tranquility - nowhere else could grant.

The scorched battlefields and merciless atrocities of the forsaken lands he traversed so frequently faded into insignificance next to the profound grace you embodied.

Merely bearing witness to the incandescence of your empyreal spirit glimmering behind those infinitely fathomless eyes was the only benediction Simon would ever need.

Until that inevitable summons to the clarion once more beckoned, commanding his return to the cursed shadows, Simon vowed to cherish every fleeting moment subsumed in your splendorous embrace - your ardor furnishing him the unbridled fortitude and singular anchor to withstand any depravity fate hurled towards him.

For your unassailable love and pride was the only talisman he truly required to confront the hellish devastations still lying in await.

That alone would be enough to see him safely through each arduous mile until the moment he could finally return to bask anew in your resplendence again...

[janeyseymour]

Hi, I hope you’re well!

I would like to make a request, for some reason Melissa and the reader need to sleep in the same bed but they are not that close. The reader likes to cuddle and gets closer and surprisingly Melissa doesn't push her away. When they need to sleep together again on the second night they already sleep hugging each other, and on the third night they no longer need to sleep together but Mel invites the reader to her house with the excuse that she is unable to sleep alone. I thought of something really cute and something that was very scary for both the reader and Melissa, a little slow burn.

Thank you ❤️

Hi! I have to say, I think this fic will hold a special place in my heart. Thank you for the great prompt 🤍 I hope you enjoy!

Warmth

wc: 4.4k exactly!

Melissa Schemmenti is an absolute enigma to you. But here you are, standing in her living room with a duffel bag slung over your shoulder.

“A-are you sure?” you ask again, although you’re already here, and you really have no way of getting home. Maybe you could walk… but that’s going to be at least a thirty minute walk. And that’s at a brisk pace without your belongings hanging off of your shoulder.

“I’m positive,” the redhead rolls her eyes. “Just don’t look to hard at my stuff, and you’ll be fine.”

You stay in your place, not sure what to even do right now. You’re in Melissa Schemmenti’s home. You never thought you would set foot here considering the walls that she has around herself at school.

“Oi, Y/N. Stop standing there. Do something.”

“I- I’m sorry,” you blush. “Where should I put my bag?”

“Drop it in my room- first door when you head upstairs.”

“In your room?” you ask quietly.

“Well, I only got one bedroom,” she huffs. “And I know my couch wrapped in plastic ain’t gonna be comfortable enough for you to be able to work tomorrow. Unless you want to give it a shot, but I can promise it isn’t comfortable.”

You nod silently and take your things upstairs. When you enter her room, it’s so… Melissa. There’s a framed jersey signed by Jalen Hurts- she must know a guy. There’s only a bed, a small bench, and a few dressers around- you assume you’re going to be sharing a bed with your coworker. Thank goodness it’s a king sized mattress; you wouldn’t want to keep Melissa up all night with your movement in your sleep. Not knowing where to put your things (you don’t know what side of the bed she likes to sleep on… although you have your thoughts when you see a baseball bat on the right side of the bed), you simply put it on the bench before making your way back downstairs.

You find where she is- in the kitchen. Of course she is. You stand awkwardly in the entry way and pick at your nails until she notices you.

“For the love of God,” she mumbles. “Either take a seat and stop standing there like a fish out of water, or help me dice these vegetables.”

“I- I can help with whatever you’re making,” you say softly and make your way over to the island of her kitchen.

“I’m making us dinner, is what I’m making,” she sighs as she slides the cutting board over towards you. She hands you a knife. “Small.”

You do so silently while she gathers other ingredients. 

“So… your apartment flooded?”

“It did,” you sigh, thankful for the break in tense silence.

“How the hell did that happen?”

“The storm… living on the first floor… the idiot upstairs that overflows his bathtub at least once a month. Water was up to my knees.”

The second grade teacher gives you a look of pity.

“N-nothing super important was ruined though,” you say quickly. “All of my photo albums were up in the top shelf of my closet. The furniture and stuff can dry.”

“I’m sure you’re gonna have to replace some stuff though,” she says.

“The rugs need replacing, but thankfully the landlord is going to handle that. Some of the paint got messed up too, so I’m sure they’re doing that now.”

“How long do you have to stay out of your apartment?”

“They said just the next two days,” you reply as you focus on the bell pepper you’re dicing.

“That ain’t too bad,” she says thoughtfully. “If it were up to my ex-husband, it’d take four years.”

You chuckle weakly at that. You aren’t really sure what else to do.

“That’s what I get for marrying a lazy asshole though,” she grumbles as she starts to dice the onion just a little more aggressively than she was before. 

The two of you cook in peace, Melissa humming along to the music that she has playing from her record player. 

When you take your first bite, you have to bite back a moan.

“Wow,” you sigh softly once you’ve swallowed that first bite. She looks at you curiously. “You weren’t kidding when you said you knew how to cook.”

“Glad you like it, hun,” she smiles- and it’s one of those soft smiles that she usually only reserves for Barbara or the students. You make it your goal to always see those soft smiles from her. 

Over dinner, you chat about the day, but then it slowly turns into conversation about outside of work.

“So, what do you do outside of work?” she asks you.

You blush. “You’re about to think I’m as dorky as Janine.”

“No one can be as dorky as Janine,” she chuckles. “C’mon, hun. What do you do outside of work?”

“I really do love to read,” you say softly. “I’ve always been a bookworm… so when it’s warm, I read outside. If it’s cold, I like to turn my television on so that it looks like a fireplace and curl up under a mountain of blankets with a book.”

“That ain’t dorky.”

“And if I’m not doing that… I’m usually writing- whether that be actual writing or music.”

“You play music?” the redhead’s interest is piqued.

“When I feel inspired,” you shrug.

“What do you play?”

You turn a little red.

“Oh, it can’t be that bad,” she rolls her eyes. “I think it’s cool.”

“Acoustic guitar, ukulele, and I dabble in piano,” you mumble. 

“Hun, that’s incredible,” she tells you. “My mom enrolled me in piano when I was younger, but I hated it… never got past the first couple of weeks. I would’ve rather learned to play the guitar or the ukulele.”

“I-“ you take a breath. “I could always teach you.”

Those green eyes light up, and she throws you yet another soft smile. “That’d be nice, if you would want to.”

You even get to hear a bit about what she likes to do outside of school.

“Sometimes Barb and I like to hit the mall… get my shakedown sweaters,” she chuckles. “Barb and I are menaces when it comes to the clearance sections.”

You insist on cleaning up after dinner considering she’s done most of the cooking for the night.

“You don’t have to,” she tells you for the third time.

“No, please,” you lay a gentle hand on her shoulder instinctively. You forget it’s Melissa, and when you expect her to bat your hand away, she doesn’t. She actually lays her hand over yours with that warm smile and a quiet thank you. She does insist on drying the dishes for you though.

“Okay, Mel,” rolls off your tongue as you playfully roll your eyes.

The two of you settle on her couch once your finished, and she watches a few programs before sighing quietly.

“I think it’s time for me to hit the hay,” she yawns. She extends the remote out in your direction. “You’re more than welcome to stay up and continue watching though.”

You let out a small yawn, covering it with your hand. “Today was a lot with the kids… I think I need some sleep too.”

You let her get herself ready for bed before you do, and by the time you come back into the bedroom, she’s under the blankets with her glasses on, and she’s reading something on her phone. Her cheeks are bright.

Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, Barb had texted her. But get your girl.

You shift side to side on your feet, not quite sure if she really does want you to be in the same bed as her.

“C’mon, hun. I don’t bite, I promise,” she teases you as she pats the open side of the bed.

Quietly, you climb in next to her but you keep your distance.

“Goodnight,” you whisper as you lay down.

“Night,” she replies back as she sets her phone down and gets comfortable.

You lay there for what seems like forever. It is freezing in Melissa’s bedroom. You are absolutely freezing, even in your sweatshirt, sweatpants, and socks. You have the blanket up to your chin, and you still can’t stop yourself from shivering. Your eyes are closed, so you have no way of knowing if the redhead next to you is awake. You act like you’re moving closer to her in your sleep, but really… you’re desperate to feel any sort of body heat she may be radiating. It turns out: she’s like a human furnace.

You hear a small huff. “Are you that cold?” 

Shit. So she is awake. But you’ve already committed to the bit of being asleep, so you continue to breathe as evenly as possible. You feel her get out of bed, and then a few seconds later you feel another blanket being draped over top of you. The bed dips under her as she crawls back in, and then you can feel her getting close to you again. 

You sleep like a baby through the night. Even with all of the sirens that come with staying with Melissa in center city Philadelphia, you get the best night’s sleep you’ve had in a long time.

When the two of you wake up, you’re practically on top of her. She groans and slams her fist into her alarm clock, only to gently rest her hand on your back. 

“You cuddle in your sleep,” she notes quietly.

You turn a deep shade of red, stuttering out an apology as you move away from her. 

“You didn’t mean to,” she shrugs. “And it was nice having someone to hold rather than my usual mound of pillows.”

“Still… sorry,” you mumble out as the blush stays on your cheeks.

“Don’t worry about it,” she chuckles as she smooths down her bedhead. “I gotta hop in the shower before we head in to work today.”

With that, she’s off. You get yourself ready for work, and by the time your finished, she’s already out. You hear the door open, and she’s standing there in her signature leather pants and green blazer. 

“If you want to finish getting ready in here, you can,” she tells you as she leaves the door open. “Y’know, brush your teeth, brush your hair… that kind of stuff.”

You smile at her as you make your way in. There’s something so intimate about sharing the bathroom while the two of you just get ready. The two of you are so close as you share the sink and mirrored cabinets that you’re practically on top of each other. Neither of you mind in the slightest. She actually hip checks you gently.

“I have to head to my apartment to shower after work, but then I’ll be-”

“You can just shower here,” she tells you. “Less time in all of the fumes and chaos.”

“Are you sure?”

“I wouldn’t have offered if I wasn’t,” she rolls her eyes. “Now c’mon. We have to get to work.”

The second the two of you split ways to get into your separate cars, you miss her. Get ahold of yourself. She’s just being nice since your apartment is in shambles right now. Then it’s back to loneliness.

The highlight of your day is lunch when you get to eat the delicious leftovers from last night’s dinner.

“I’m thinking of making gnocchi tonight,” Melissa tells you offhandedly. “You good with that?”

You nod. “I’ll pick up some wine on my way over from my apartment.”

“I thought I told you to just come over and shower at my place.”

Barb looks at the redhead with wide eyes, and Melissa gently kicks her under the table, a silent signal to ‘be cool, it’s nothin’. 

“Well,” you laugh softly. “I do need to grab a fresh set of clothes for work tomorrow. But I’ll be over after that.”

The second grade teacher nods as she gathers her things to head back to her classroom. “A white.”

“Yes, ma’am,” you salute her playfully.

When you get to her house, you hold the bottle you brought- her favorite white wine, thanks to Barb.

Before you can even think if you should knock or just walk in, she’s at the door in front of you. Gone is Ms. Schemmenti, and Melissa greets you at the door. 

“Took you long enough,” she chuckles. “I already got dinner started, and I need a glass of wine in my hand after my day with the kids.”

“That bad?” you chuckle as you enter the house and make your way into the kitchen.

“Let’s just say… if I don’t have an angry email from Destiny’s mother sitting in my inbox tomorrow, I’ll be shocked,” she rolls her eyes as she reaches for the wine glasses. 

The two of you drink a few glasses of wine while she tends to dinner, and by the time it’s on the table, you’re both slightly buzzed.

Again, her food is heavenly.

You insist on cleaning up again, and she makes it known that she will be drying and putting away the dishes again. It’s a seamless process, and you can’t help but smile as you hear her humming again to the music she has playing.

Once dinner is cleaned up, you head for the shower, thanking her for the hospitality as you go. 

She sets your towel over the heater with a smile. “So you’re not freezing your ass off,” she tells you, a smile on her face. “Feel free to use whatever.”

As you bathe, you realize you’re going to smell like Melissa tomorrow- and her smell is nearly intoxicating to you. The slightly musky yet flowery smell washes over you, and you don’t really know how you’re going to focus at work tomorrow when all that will be on your mind is the redheaded teacher just down the hall.

When you reenter her living room, Melissa is lounging on her couch watching a cooking show, but her eyes go straight to you. Your hair is still slightly wet and sticking to your body, and she can’t help but think how cute you look with messy hair, glasses, and your sweats on again. 

The two of you watch a few more episodes before you retire to bed. This time, she’s prepared that extra blanket for you, so you keep your distance. You try to fall asleep, you really do, but you’re still freezing. 

“Are you seriously still cold?” you hear the redhead grumble. So she can feel you shivering. 

You don’t respond. You’re pretending your asleep, or at least on the brink of sleep. You feel her move closer to you, and then an arm wraps around you and pulls you in close.

“I don’t got more blankets,” she huffs as she curls herself around you, her head falling into your shoulder. You instantly feel warmer, and you pray to God she can’t feel your heart beating faster and harder than you thought possible. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

Again, you sleep like a baby. 

When the alarm goes off again, you groan softly. But Melissa is still around you, holding you tight.

“Mel,” you whisper. “Alarm’s going off.”

“I hear it,” the woman behind you grumbles. She rolls over and hits the snooze button before rolling back into you and wrapping her arm around you. “I need ten more minutes.”

The two of you doze for another ten minutes before you know you really do have to get up and get ready for work. Again, you dance around each other with ease, and then you’re gathering your bag and throwing it in your car.

“Hey,” you say softly as you go to climb into the vehicle. Melissa pauses her motions as she gets into her own car.

“What is it, hun?”

“Thank you for letting me stay with you the past few nights,” you smile. 

“Of course,” she sighs softly. 

As she drives to school, she thinks of how she got the best two nights of sleep she’s gotten in a long time. And it’s because of you. She’s shared beds with others before, Barbara included, and it’s never that warm or calming. There’s something about you. The teacher knows she’s had a thing for you since you started, but now that she’s had a taste of domestic life with you, she’s sure it’s something that she wants- no, needs.

The redhead quietly confides in her best friend at the school that she thinks she finally needs to make her move, and Barbara is all too excited for two of her favorite people to get their heads out of their asses.

“What if she doesn’t feel the same way?” Melissa asks nervously, playing with her jewelry.

“That girl gives you the same eyes my Gerald gives me, and the eyes Gregory gave Janine before they started dating,” the kindergarten teacher tells her gently. “I don’t think that’s something you have to worry about, dear.”

Melissa bites her lip before continuing down the hall to her classroom.

You can’t think straight. All you can smell is Melissa.

“Miss Y/N?” one of your students asks you as she approaches your desk. “Are you okay? You been staring at the same screen for the last twenty minutes, and didn’t even yell when Tyson ate his glue on a dare.”

“Tyson what?!” you jump out of your thoughts.

“Nah,” Tyson laughs. “We just playing. Wanted to get your attention.”

“Tyson, be so for real right now,” you pinch the bridge of your nose with your thumb and pointer finger. “Did you, or did you not, eat your glue?”

“Nah, Miss Y/N,” he grins.

The bell rings before you can get anything else out. “Get in line for recess and lunch, you hooligans.”

As you enter the staff lounge for lunch, you can see Melissa already at her table. Her eyes light up at the sight of you.

“Hey there, you,” she grins as she kicks out the chair next to her. “I already got our lunch out.”

The two of you share the container of leftovers from last night, blissfully unaware of the way that Barbara has a knowing smirk on her face and the way that Janine, Jacob, and Gregory are all looking at you completely dumbfounded at how you got the fiery teacher to take down her walls.

With a sigh, you stand. “I got recess duty today, y’all. Happy Friday, have a nice weekend.”

You don’t see the redhead you’re infatuated with for the rest of the day. You drive home to your dingy apartment with a frown. You’re going to miss Melissa and her beautiful house- her extraordinary cooking- her warmth in bed.

You’re halfway through your second glass of wine, it’s nearing midnight, and you see your phone light up. Melissa’s calling you.

“Hello?” you answer softly. “Mel, it’s almost midnight.”

“I know,” she huffs frustratedly.

“What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

“No.”

“What’s going on?”

You hear her swallow harshly before the words come tumbling out of her mouth, “Any chance you can come over?”

“Uh,” you drawl out.

“You know what? Nevermind, it was dumb. Have a good weekend, Y/N.” The line disconnects.

Now concerned about your favorite coworker, you sigh. You jump off the couch, shove your feet into the first pair of shoes you see and climb into your car. You know you look like a wreck, but she’s seen you like this before. You drive over to her place, and take a deep breath before knocking on the door. It takes a minute or two before Melissa is standing in front of you.

“I said never mind,” she grumbles.

“Well, when my friend calls me in the middle of the night telling me she isn’t okay, I get concerned,” you retaliate. “Can I come in?”

She steps aside, you kick off your shoes, and wait for her expectantly.

“It’s nothin,” she sighs as she runs a hand through her hair. “You didn’t have to come.”

“Well, I’m here now, so,” you tell her. 

“Can we just… not?” she asks quietly. It’s so unlike Melissa. Her false bravado is gone, and you can see how nervous she is about… whatever it is that’s bothering her.

You bite your lip. “Yeah, okay. Why don’t we take your mind off of it and watch something? Maybe have a glass of wine?”

She smiles, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “That sounds alright. But if you’re tired, you don’t have to.”

“It’s a Friday night. When I don’t have to be up for school the next day, I’m up all hours of the night,” you chuckle. “Sit down, I’ll grab the wine.”

The truth is, you knew it was going to be a sleepless night without Melissa next to you. You had already tried to go to bed, but you were freezing. You trekked back to your couch in defeat. If you weren’t going to sleep, you might as well have been entertained.

When you return with two glasses of wine, she’s curled into the corner of the couch, but she pats the space next to her. As soon as you’re sitting down, she’s ditched the corner for your body instead to curl up against. It throws you for a bit of a loop, but she’s upset, so you don’t say anything.

She ends up falling asleep against you, an arm gently draped around your waist. It’s almost two in the morning now, and you know she won’t be happy if she wakes up with a crick in her neck from sleeping sitting up.

“Mel,” you whisper as you jostle her slightly. “Maybe we should get you up to bed.”

“Mhmm,” she hums out sleepily. 

“C’mon, red,” the nickname rolls off your tongue. “You need to get to bed, and so do I.”

“Stay the night,” she mumbles. “It’s late.”

You let out a low chuckle. “Alright, Mel.”

The two of you get to bed, and you immediately notice that the room is exactly how you left it this morning. The extra blanket she has for you is even still in its place. As soon as you’re both in bed, she’s curled up around you and asleep.

Being teachers, neither of you sleep past nine, but when you wake up, you still feel her arms around you securely.

“Hey,” you whisper when she peels her eyes open- those striking green eyes.

“Hey,” she mumbles into the crook of your neck.

“You feelin’ better than you were last night?” you ask, brows knit in concern. She nods. “You wanna talk about it?”

Her chest turns red, as do her cheeks. “It’s dumb.”

“It isn’t dumb if it has you this upset.”

“I-” you feel her fingers trace a few patterns on your shoulder as she continues to cling to you. “Can I make you breakfast?”

She clearly still doesn’t want to talk about it, so you let her distract herself. Eventually, hopefully, she’ll be up to talking.

The two of you make breakfast together, and you catch the way she’s looking at you- admiring you, even.

“What?” you ask with a chuckle as you sip your coffee.

“Just…” she sighs. “You really wanna know what’s been bothering me?”

You nod. “I’ve been trying to get it out of you since I came over last night.”

She takes a big swig of coffee, and then a deep breath. “Promise you won’t make fun of me?”

“I promise,” you tell her honestly. “I would never.”

“I- I don’t really know how to say this without sounding like an idiot.”

“So sound like an idiot,” you encourage her. “I sound like an idiot all the time.” That gets her to crack a smile.

“I’ve… I- uh…”

“You got this,” you tell her quietly, pressing her on.

“I knew what I was opening myself up to when I invited you to spend the few nights with me while your apartment was getting renovated,” she sighs as she averts her eyes away from you. 

“Okay?”

“Y/N,” she says your name seriously. “I- when I was driving to school yesterday morning knowing that that was the last night you would spend with me, I was broken. I haven’t slept in the same bed with someone and gotten that good a night’s sleep ever. I haven’t found that person who can seamlessly blend themselves into my house as if they’ve always lived here, but you did it. I- I’ve always had a thing for you, but I never acted on it because I know there’s an age difference, and I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, but now that I know what we do when we’re together, I don’t want to go back to not having you around. I got a taste of what it could be like with you, and I don’t want to miss the opportunity to have it if I could, but I entirely understand if you don’t reciprocate those feelings, because like I said, I do know that there’s an age difference and-”

“Mel?” you cut her compassionate rambling off.

“-and I know that being coworkers and everything just throws another wrench into the mix… and you know what? Forget I said anything. This was dumb. I never should’ve listened to Barb and just kept my damned mouth shut, because now you’re going to hate me and never speak to me ag-”

“Melissa,” you say again, sternly. Her eyes meet yours quickly as her mouth shuts. “Are you going to let me tell you my thoughts?”

“Do I want to know them?”

“I think so,” you smile at her as you move in closer. You wrap an arm around her waist as you pull her in closer.

“Okay,” she sighs so softly you can feel her breath on your lips and you can smell the coffee in her breath.

“So last night, you just wanted me in your bed?” you ask with the corners of your lips quirked up.

She nods, a blush creeping into her cheeks so dark it nearly matches her hair.

“I can’t even use my line of buy a girl dinner first, because you already did that,” you chuckle before pulling her into a gentle kiss. “If it isn’t clear, I have a thing for you too.”

Next

[messylustt]

݁   𓂃 ៸៸៸ …and taste — rafe cameron + reader ( outer banks ) : after he finally gets to taste you he wishes you hadn’t run away. lucky for him a dinner is being held at the cameron’s.

contents : jealous!rafe. possessive!rafe. rafe being slightly obsessed with reader. virgin reader. slight innocence kink. unprotected sex. wc 3.9k.

pt one pt two

“come on, dear, we’re leaving now.” your mother’s voice rouses you from your book. your brows furrow as you eye her almost fancy dress.

“where are we going?” you ask, sitting up.

“to the cameron’s, i told you this.” she replies, turning to leave your room.

you freeze. what?

a few weeks ago you vaguely remember your parents mentioning a dinner. you didn't realise it was this soon. no. god. this was the worst timing.

your cheeks warm at the memory of rafe, and what he had done. you place your hands against your cheeks in an attempt to cool your face, as you quickly stand.

you couldn’t see him. you weren't prepared to see him this soon. what had happened in the kitchen was only two days ago. you didn’t know where you stood, and part of you didn’t want to. you thought you would have time to prepare a whole speech where you would point out how sarah would feel if her best friend and brother were getting it on.

or, part of you hoped, that rafe just…forgot, and saw you as another girl. and then the other part wished that you weren't just some girl. but that was certainly wishful thinking.

you quickly rummage through your clothes, your pyjamas not ideal for a dinner, as you hear your mum call for you downstairs.

arriving at the cameron’s made your heart thump against your chest. you’d never been nervous walking into this house, but then again rafe had never kissed you before now. what if he wasn’t home? again, wishful thinking.

you greet ward and rose with a smile, as sarah bolts down the stairs to give you a hug. you didn’t dare look around for rafe, as you let sarah bring you into the dining room.

“you're not gonna believe what happened yesterday!” sarah excitedly says to you, but your focus is annoyingly dragged to the boy walking in through the other entry. you immediately stiffen, as you stare at sarah. you won’t look at him if you don’t have to.

what you didn’t see was the way that rafe’s eyes found you immediately, staring at you with the same intensity that you're using on sarah.

he had also forgotten about this dinner, though his reaction to it was far different than yours. of course he was nervous, you hadn’t seen each other since that night. but his want to see you overrode most of his other feelings.

you were all soon taking a seat, not missing the way rafe found one directly opposite you. this way you’d have to look at him, even if by accident. you curse under your breath but maintain a smile, as you stare at the food on your plate.

chatter filled the room, as your parents and theirs talked about too many topics to keep up with. you kept your gaze on sarah, as she explained her adventures over the past few days. you’d always lived a kook life, so hearing how much fun the pogues got up to almost made you feel jealous.

as you place a forkful of food in your mouth you suddenly feel a brush against your foot. you choke, realising exactly who did that. you place your hand against your chest as your coughing gains the attention of the parents.

“you alright, sweetie?” rose asks.

you quickly nod, trying to smile, while hitting your chest. “yeah, i’m fine, thanks.”

you hear a faint snort as you whip your head to rafe for the first time that night. you shoot him a small glare, to which he only smirks in return.

“so, y/n, have any boys caught your attention?” ward asks you, as you break eye contact with rafe.

“uh,” you begin as rose cuts in.

“ward,” she scolds, before looking at me. “he just means that you’ve grown into a beautiful young lady, i’m sure boys have taken a liking.”

you smile, as you spare a fleeting glance to rafe. he’s watching you closely, as if he wants to know the answer just as much as rose and ward.

“well, there has been this boy.” your mum speaks up, as you shoot her a look. “what—toby seems like such a sweet boy.”

rafe was intently watching the conversation, though his bites began to grow a little more aggressive as the name toby left your mother’s lips.

‘sweet boy.’ he had to hold back a scoff. she didn’t see the way that kid eyed her daughter with a look that contradicted the word ‘sweet’.

of course he was very familiar with that look, that always seemed to be directed at you. the difference is that toby didn’t deserve to look at you like that, and in all honesty rafe probably didn’t either, but that didn’t seem to be enough motivation to look away.

he had touched you, kissed you, and tasted you. and god, did he want to continue. to get you into his bed whenever he saw fit, to see you laid across his sheets for him.

he bit into his fork, the metal scraping against his teeth as he eyed you across from him. you had only met his eyes once, and he planned to have you staring at him, and only him for the rest of the night…maybe somewhere more isolated.

“yeah, he’s nice.” you smile at the adults. you had said that to rafe when he had asked if you liked him. Which made rafe realise that toby was barely competition. that’s all you thought of him, and that made him grin.

“well, y/n, if that boy isn’t right for you, then just know that rafe, sarah and wheezie’s cousin is quite a catch.” ward laughs proudly.

you chuckle awkwardly. the last thing you wanted was to get in with this family where rafe could see you way more often.

you hear rafe clear his throat, earning the table’s attention. “did you know that johnny was caught robbing a store recently?” rafe speaks innocently as Ward’s expression falls. “plus i’m sure y/n wouldn’t exactly catch his eye.” rafe is leant back against his chair, his arms crossed.

you meet his gaze again with a scowl, while rafe tilts his head. “oh, i’m not sure i exactly want a cameron staring at me anyway.” you smile, as rafe’s eyes narrow.

“but imagine y/n a part of the family.” rose says with a thoughtful smile as she sips her cocktail.

rafe doesn’t shift his gaze from you as you eye up his silent challenge. “no cameron has caught my eye i’m afraid, besides sarah of course.” you shift your gaze to sarah who chuckles, giving you a nudge. “yeah,” she smiles. “y/n’s off limits.” she speaks playfully.

you glance back at rafe to see his gaze has hardened.

bullshit, rafe thinks. he has done more than just ‘catch your eye’.

he tongues his cheek as he watches you eat more of your food. the way your lips wrapped around the for—

he has to look away for a moment, remembering his and your family still sitting at the table. this dinner was going on forever, and his patience was wearing thin.

“alright, i need to tell y/n something, so we’re heading upstairs.” sarah says quickly, as she takes her last mouthful of food.

you're then dragged up and out of your seat, continuing up the stairs to sarah’s room. rafe watches you go, glaring at sarah’s grip on your arm.

sarah had shared the rest of her adventures with the pogues to you, as you both ended up laughing on her bed. it was late when sarah got called downstairs.

“feel free to take a shower.” sarah says to you, as she darts out the door.

you take up the offer, feeling sweaty from your previous mountains of nerves.

you're quick out of the shower, wrapping a towel around your body, as your wet hair hits your cheeks. you had forgotten to grab some of sarah’s clothes to change into. you slipped out the bathroom door, cursing under your breath at your stupidity.

you walk into the hallway, the towel wrapped tight around your chest as you step quietly, not wanting to wake anyone who had decided to sleep.

then you felt a hand grab your upper arm, yanking you into a room. you gasp, your heart jumping as the door shuts. the room has dim lighting but you're quick to make out a sweatshirt on the bed that looks awfully familiar. too big for wheezie and not sarah’s style.

rafe’s.

shit. you spin to face the door as you catch sight of Rafe standing there, his eyes narrowed in a glare.

“off limits?” rafe reiterates sarah’s mock sentence. he steps forward as you slightly shuffle back, your hand gripping your towel with a force that’s making your knuckles turn white. rafe reaches out, hitting your chin up as he brushes your damp hair away from your cheek. “you're off limits, alright.” he whisper-hisses, making your body stiffen. “just not to me.”

you gulp as he grabs your neck, pulling you forward. his breath hits your face, successfully making it heat up. his large hand brushes your neck, nearly winding around your entire throat.

“rafe—”

he cuts you off. “you're off limits to people like toby, or johnny, or even sarah.” his tone is dark, almost threatening, but then his almost soft eyes contradict to a point that makes your head spin. “off limits to any guy who looks at you.”

“rafe, what are you doing?” you ask, drawing the towel higher. rafe catches this, his eyes shooting down to your covered chest. he gulps, staring at the remaining water droplets left on your skin, dotted around your collarbone. his breathing picks up as he meets your gaze again.

he then smiles, a little too innocently. “you lie a lot, did you know that?” rafe steps closer, making you shuffle back. he takes another large step as your thighs hit his bed. you curse yourself for backing up in this direction. “you lied about not liking a cameron.”

you shake your head. “i like sarah.”

“not how you like me.” rafe speaks cockily.

“you're far too proud for your own good, rafe.” you say, trying to stand straighter, showcasing some form of dominance in your losing situation. rafe just looks amused, which pisses you off more.

“we kissed once—” you begin, but rafe immediately cuts in.

“oh, we did more than just kiss.”

you shut your eyes, trying to forbid the memory to fill your brain. you feel rafe tilt your chin up, his warm breath hitting your nose. he then leans down to your ear, your eyes still shut, as if that will shut him out. “and i plan to more than just eat you out.” he whispers, before biting your earlobe.

you gasp, eyes shooting open as he pushes you onto the bed. he towers over you, resting his knee in between your legs, that you want to close desperately.

“rafe—”

“shh, pretty girl, i just want to make you feel good.” he breathes, his eyes devouring you hungrily. you still had the towel covering you, but you didn’t think that would last much longer. in response to your thought you bring it closer to your chest. rafe smirks, watching you try to hold onto your modesty.

cute, he thinks to himself.

his finger raises to tantalisingly skim across your skin right by the top of your towel. he then lets his hand drift down to the bottom of your towel. drawing it up your thigh as you try to close your legs, forgetting that his knee sits between. you clench around it, gasping as he moves his leg higher, bringing your towel up with it.

cold air hits your pussy making you shiver. rafe’s hand moves up your thigh. you try to move away on instinct, but rafe pushes his knee higher, his jean material rubbing along your clit. a whimper escapes you, and rafe’s eyes dart to yours, smiling. “oh, you like that?” he teases, his expression looking almost as desperate as yours.

“would you ever let toby touch you like this?” he asks, sweetly at first. but when you stay silent, he raises his hand to clench around your neck, tightening only a fraction. “no. you wouldn’t.” he hisses out. “say it.”

“rafe—”

“not my name. you have plenty of time to scream it. i want to hear you say who is allowed to touch you.” rafe demands, and you squirm under him, his jean-clad knee still pressed against you.

“n-no one.” you say, to which he shakes his head.

“wrong.” he leans down to bite your neck, making you jolt. “try again.”

“i’m not going to say you.” you try to stay defiant, knowing how wrong this is. you didn’t want to think of what sarah would say.

“no?” rafe chuckles mockingly. his bite then turns to a kiss, spreading them all across your jaw and cheek. He reaches your mouth, hovering. both of your chests are heaving against each other. “do you want to leave?”

your eyes continue to dart between his eyes and lips.

“i’ll tell ya what.” rafe begins, staying extremely close to your lips. “if you aren’t wet, i’ll let you leave. but if you are…well…” he smiles. your eyes are wide as you watch him. you lean further into the bed, his warm breath making your mind foggy. rafe follows your lips, grabbing your jaw and holding you still. “and there’s only one way to find out.”

rafe reaches down, abandoning your jaw to reach your pussy. his fingers hover over before one pushes inside you. you shut your eyes, your breathing turning erratic. you hear rafe groan in praise as he feels your dripping deception.

“oh god.” you mutter as you feel a second finger push in.

“well, would you look at that?” rafe taunts, now placing a kiss to your cheek as your back slightly arches against his fingers. “you're dripping.” he whisper-groans.

your breathing stutters as he continues to pull in and out.

rafe watches your expression as he fingers you, all self control slipping when a small noise escapes your mouth. he leans closer, pressing his lips against yours, wanting to swallow your sounds.

as he picks up the pace you're practically panting in his mouth as he laps at your tongue. his need for you is growing, as he tries not to grind on your leg, his position nearly straddling one of your thighs.

you draw close, your eyes nearly rolling, when he pulls away. you feel embarrassed by the sound of desperation that leaves you. but rafe is ecstatic to hear it.

“why did you?...” you pant, catching his gaze.

“‘cause i need to fucking taste more of you. i didn’t have time that night, before you ran off.” he grips your towel, your eyes widening as he rips it away, tossing it somewhere in his room. he pauses, staring at your naked tits, gulping. you try to cover up, but rafe is quick to grab your wrists, pinning them to the bed, and leaving you open for him. his breathing is heavy as takes your wrists into one hand, bringing the other to circle around your nipple.

you shiver, and he practically moans as he takes your entire breast in his hand, massaging it. he looks dazed as he watches his hand enjoy you.

he then leans down to your other breast, licking a circle over your nipple, making you gasp. he loved the way you couldn't swallow down the noises that left you, he wanted to hear more.

he fully took your nipple into his mouth, sucking and licking. you moaned, as both your nipples hardened against his rough tongue and hand.

he got more aggressive and desperate as he bit and sucked on your nipple, while circling the other with his finger. you're nearly writhing under him as pleasure shoots through you.

christ, you think to yourself.

“now you can’t run away from me.” rafe speaks against your skin, before raising his head to hover over your lips. “ever.” he kisses you with passion, as he presses himself further against you. you gasp into the kiss as you feel him hard against your hip. he groans as you shuffle against his cock. his grip tightens around your wrists, breaking the kiss.

“don’t do that unless you're actually going to do something about it.” he breathlessly speaks, his voice almost edging submission. you’d never heard him pleading. ever.

you kiss him, making him whimper as you shift again. rafe grabs your hips, trying to get you to stop, but you manage to move, swinging your leg around him.

he’s now lying under you, as you straddle him. rafe’s eyes are wide and blown out with lust. you reach for the buttons of his shirt, feeling it unfair that you're naked while he stays clothed.

rafe’s breathing stutters as your hand grazes his chest, pulling his shirt back. rafe raises on his elbows, helping you get the shirt over his shoulders, but as you pull it down rafe can’t resist and kisses you.

he’s wanted this for so long and here you are undressing him. he groans against your lips, nearly biting your tongue as he pushes into you. “rafe—” you try against his persistent mouth, as you fiddle with getting the shirt completely off.

“i just—” rafe cuts himself off as he harshly breathes. “you look so pretty trying to undress me.”

you lean back. “i don’t have to—”

but rafe cuts you short by hastily undoing his belt, pulling it out of the loops, all while he kisses your collarbone, multitasking extremely fast that it makes your head spin.

he grabs your hips pulling you harshly down into him, as you place your hands on his shoulders, gripping hard. his jeans are unbuttoned but not off, his shirt gone somewhere by your towel. he desperately moves your hips against him, making you both moan. the raw feeling of his jean material and cold metal of the button and zipper against your throbbing clit is making your breathing choppy. it’s nearly painful with how turned on you are.

“oh, fuck.” rafe’s eyes are rolling, his grip on your hips tightening to the point of bruising. he then grabs your jaw, resuming his dominant attitude. “tell me only i get to feel you.”

you open your mouth, panting from the grinding. rafe brings you closer to his lips, breathing past them. “tell me.”

you choke out. “only you.”

“can what?” he juts his hips up into you.

“f—feel me.” you gasp.

rafe smirks against your lips. “good girl.” he then flips you both, so that your back is against the bed again. he pulls his jeans and boxers off, before pulling you closer to him by your thighs. he leans down to your ear, keeping his grip on your thighs. “is this your first time?”

you shakily nod, catching as rafe’s eyes darken. “shit.” he breathes, kissing your jaw. “i’m gonna make you feel so…good…yeah?”

you nod in response, not trusting your words. rafe swirls his finger along your clit, making sure you're wet enough. “then let me hear your sweet voice, loud and clear.”

“but sarah—” you begin, only just remembering that she was in the house. was she wondering where you were?

“nobody is going to stop me from finally making you mine.” he darkly breathed. “i’ve always wanted to taste you, taint you, train you—” you choke a gasp as he wraps your legs around his hips. “i’m so glad i get to be your first...” he grins before kissing you. he pushes you further into the bed before widening your legs. he slowly pushes the tip past you. you stiffen at the foreign feeling, but rafe continues to place tender kisses to your cheek and jaw. he slowly pushes further in. the pain makes your brows furrow as your breathing shallows out. but rafe stays still until you’ve gotten used to his size. he watches as your forehead smooths out and pleasure takes over.

he begins to move, earning a whine from you. he growls as his eyes roll. he pulls in and out, picking up the pace to a continuous rhythm. he leans down to your ear, smirking. “...and your last.” he whispers possessively. you can’t link his words to his previous ones before he’s thrusting harder into you. you try to stay quiet, not wanting the family to know. god, were your parents still downstairs?

“come on, pretty girl, i like hearing you speak. even if it’s just incoherent moaning.”

in response you moan, as his pace picks up to one almost animalistic. “fuck.” He breathes.

both your highs are drawing close, as rafe nearly becomes a whimpering mess above you. he’s trying so hard to keep control of his dominance, but when it came to you all control flew out the window. he breathes your name against your lips before he kisses you, but the kiss soon turns into you both just groaning into each other. the crescendo of your orgasm is approaching as your grip on rafe’s neck and shoulders dig in, nearly breaking skin.

“rafe.” you whimper, keeping his lips to yours.

“that’s it.” rafe praises, feeling his own orgasm approaching. he uses his finger to draw circles on your clit making you choke a groan. god, did it feel good.

your orgasm crashes into you as your head tilts back. “god.” you moan. rafe pulls out, his own pleasure spilling over your stomach. he hadn’t meant to, but he just had to stay inside you until the last second.

“shit.” rafe heaved as he rested his head in the crook of your neck. you both panted as your highs drew to a close.

you don’t notice as rafe got up, to then come back with a fresh towel from his adjoining bathroom. you sit up on your elbows, still dazed and slightly lightheaded. rafe is quick to clean you up, before your reaching for your clothes.

but just as you're about to pull your shirt over your head, rafe reappears with grey sweatpants hanging around his hips, probably just having cleaned himself up. he catches you, quickly taking the shirt out of your grasp and throwing it back to the floor, as he grabs your cheeks and pulls you in for a kiss.

“rafe—” you try, but he just smiles in response, drawing you closer by your waist.

“and where are you going?” he prys.

“i left sarah. she’s probably wondering—”

rafe shakes his head. “no, no. you're with me now, and i plan to keep you for the rest of the night.”

you hold down a smile, as you get out of his hold reaching for the door handle, but rafe quickly wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you back. “i meant what i said. you're not running away.”

you shake your head with a slight chuckle. “i just feel bad—”

“you’ve spent plenty of time with sarah. you owe me time, now.” rafe cuts in, tilting your chin up. “and i’d love to see you trapped in my sheets.”

at this rate rafe’s arms were glued to you, and you didn’t think he'd ever let go.

© messylustt.tumblr please don’t steal, copy or translate my work onto other platforms.

[thus-spoke-lo]

Dear Diary || Sanji x f!reader || NSFW [minors DNI]

CW: afab!reader (no pronouns used to describe reader), reader wears a skirt, masturbation (m), vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, creampie

WC: 3.6k

Read on AO3

It was an accident. 

Or at the very least, that’s the story Sanji had hastily prepared as he sat perched on the edge of your bed, your diary held tightly in his grasp. 

It was an accident, he’d say if anyone wandered in while he perused its pages—it had fallen on the floor and he was merely trying to find out who it belonged to, that’s why it was splayed open in his hand. Really, you see, it was completely innocent. 

But Sanji already knew it was yours, having seen you with it on the deck, ardently scribbling away day after day. He could never quite get close enough or squint hard enough to see exactly what you were writing, but you certainly seemed alarmed when you’d catch him meandering by, quickly shutting the little blue book and squirreling it away in your knapsack before he could ever get near. 

And now here it was in his perspiration-slick hands. He wondered what he’d find, if it was even worth it to sneak into your room, carefully closing the door behind him, just to get a glimpse at the thoughts that pirouetted through your gorgeous mind. 

He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply before cracking open the little blue book, quickly looking over the pages for any mention of him: A recipe for medical ointment and a quick story about helping Chopper with a project. A sloppily-drawn chart and notes about a conversation with Nami. Musings on something Luffy said at dinner. 

“Maybe this was a bad idea,” he muttered as he flipped through more pages, seeing line after line of casual observations and droll anecdotes. He was, of course, deeply and truly interested in your reflections on life with the crew, and would delightedly read just about anything you had written with your precious hands, but he didn’t have the time to peruse every paragraph. He was unsure of precisely when you’d be back with the rest of the crew, and his only goal was to find even the smallest talk of him in your handwriting—it would be enough just to see his name scrawled in these pages, enough to see that you even deigned to give him any mention at all. 

He scanned page after page until finally—there it was. His name, in your writing. 

He paused before he continued, taking in a shaky breath, wondering if he should read on, fearing the worst but his heart yearning for the best. 

Sanji, you’d written, Sanji, Sanji, Sanji. Sat in the galley to watch him cook today. He didn’t seem to mind me there, and he was humming some song I didn’t know. He let me taste the soup he was making, and told me I was perfect because of my “refined palate.” What a man, haha. 

He grinned as he continued to read: 

I'm glad he doesn’t mind me hanging around him, I could watch him for hours. His hands are so elegant.

I know it’s terrible, but sometimes I wonder what those hands would feel like on me.

Sanji stopped, using his thumb to hold his place as he set the diary down in his lap, his heart thrumming in his chest. He shouldn’t keep reading, he tried to tell himself—he got what he wanted, confirmation that he at least occasionally swirled around in your mind like a ship caught in a whirlpool, and that should be the end of it.

Right?

“Okay. Just a little more,” he uttered as he opened the book again, his eyes drifting back to where he’d left off. “A little more won’t hurt.”

God I bet his hands are so soft. I bet they’d feel so nice on my skin. Running down my arms. Tickling my neck. He’d know just how to hold me, touch me carefully, so he doesn’t hurt me, just make me feel good.

“Fuck,” he said under his breath as he flipped the page to the next entry. More about him.

Sanji made me tea today and brought it to me in my room. Ugh, he’s so fucking handsome. Hard not to tell him to set the tea down and give me something else hot. I bet he would, too. I bet all I’d have to do is ask and he’d have me bent over my bed, moaning his name. 

He slid his hand down to the front of his pants, palming the growing hardness that strained against the fabric. God he wanted you, and there was a painful desire roiling inside him knowing you wanted him too. And you were right, he thought as he throbbed under his hand—all it would take is one look, one pout, one soft “Please, Sanji?” and he would have you undressed in a heartbeat, writhing under him as he filled you to the hilt with every throbbing inch of him.

His hands, his hands, I’m telling you. I want him to finger me so bad. Maybe under the table while we’re having dinner. Just slide his hand up my skirt, push my panties to the side, start teasing my clit. Maybe he’d whisper in my ear that I’d need to keep quiet so no one would know. I’d just have to wriggle in my seat while he uses his fingers to tease me, and grip his leg to keep myself from screaming. 

“This is wrong,” he whispered, the words hitching in his throat. “This is so wrong.”

It was as if you could read his mind, he thought as he closed his eyes for a moment, grinding into his palm. How many times had he thought about placing a hand on your leg as you sat next to him at dinner, running his fingers up and up and up your velvety skin to the apex of your thighs, placing his palm against your heated cunt. He wanted to tease you through your panties, press his fingers against your clit through the silken fabric, making soft circles over it until you started to squirm in your chair and quietly beg him to stop. But begging, no matter how sweet and polite, would do you no good; no, if you loved his hands so much, then he was going to make you come on them. You’d have to sit there and be good and still and smile and laugh like nothing was wrong while he shoved his long fingers inside of you and pumped them in and out until you clenched and fluttered around them, leaving him a drenched and slippery mess. He wondered how flustered you’d become as he dragged his soaked fingers out of you and across your bare thigh, wondered if you’d look at him with your exquisite eyes, blinking away the tears of pleasure forming at your lash line, as you tried to keep yourself from falling apart in front of everyone.

He paused for a moment, listening closely for any commotion on the ship; there was only the sound of blood rushing in his ears. He quickly unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants, freeing his hardening cock and sighing as he felt the cool air of your room on his burning hot skin. He gripped himself gently, delicately—like he imagined you might with your soft, perfect hands—as he continued to read. 

I just need him. I need his cock in me. I’m sure he’d fuck me, but really want him to want to fuck me, you know? Not just because I’m another pretty face. I want him to want to fuck me, to need to fuck me. 

Sanji groaned as he read, his hand slowly working up and down his shaft, using his thumb to gather the sticky precum dripping from the head as he did, pretending it was your luscious slick coating the length of him. Oh and how he did want to fuck you, and he did need to fuck you. Not because you were just any lovely thing with a gorgeous face—he wanted you, every last bit of you. He wanted to taste the salt of your skin, and inhale your intoxicating scent, and feel every part of you crash into him like waves; he wanted to consume you, to have every part of you to himself, to wrap himself around you and bury himself inside of you until you were practically one.

I want him to shove his cock in me, and tell me what a perfect little slut I am for him and only him. I want him to kiss my neck while he’s thrusting into me, long and slow strokes, and tell me how beautiful I am with his cock deep inside me. I want him to lose control of himself and feel him slam into me nice and hard, and hear how he moans when he finally fills me up wi—

“Sanji!”

He quickly slammed the diary shut and threw his hands over his lap, trying to cover the glaring evidence of his arousal; he glanced up to see you standing in the doorway, mouth agape, eyebrows raised to the heavens. 

“What the hell do you think you're doing?” you asked, eyes wide, your eyes drifting down to his lap. 

“Oh, I was—well you see—so here’s the thing my dear—” Sanji stammered and stuttered, his perfectly crafted excuse slowly unraveling in his mind like an old sweater as you placed your hands on your hips—your luscious, grabbable hips, perfectly draped in a black skirt—and dragged your teeth across your lower lip impatiently. How is it that you could look so deeply and fiercely irresistible even when you clearly wanted to throttle him? How is it that his cock still throbbed even when you were probably ten seconds away from killing him where he sat?

You quickly closed the gap between you and stood before him and the end of the bed. 

“Give me that,” you spat as you snatched your diary out of his hand. “What were you doing with this?”

“My darling, please, I only wanted to—well I just—”

“You just what?”

He tried to find an answer for you, one that might make him appear even the least bit less debased and depraved than he must have seemed to you just then, but he was coming up woefully short.

“I just wanted to know,” he finally sputtered after a beat. 

“And what did you want to know, Sanji?” you asked, drawing out his name teasingly. 

He shifted, trying ever more desperately to hide his unyielding hardness from your gaze. “I just wanted to know if you ever thought about me.”

“How so?” you smirked. 

He swallowed hard, his mouth dry, the words sticking together in his throat as he tried to say them. “I wanted to know if you ever thought about me and you. Together.”

“Together?”

“My sweet, please don’t make me say it.”

“Aw come on,” you pouted. “Please?”

“I wanted to know if you ever thought about fucking me!” he exclaimed, his eyes clenched shut as the words burst forth from his lips. “There. Are you happy?”

“Oh Sanji,” you sighed, tilting your head to one side. You leaned forward and placed a hand on his chest, pushing him back onto the bed. He let his hands drift away from his pulsating cock, and you gasped a little at the sight of it, the head swollen and glistening with his arousal. You smiled and bit your lip as you straddled him, carefully placing your soft thighs on either side of his, too needy to bother even asking him to disrobe; Sanji felt his heart nearly crawl into his throat as he could feel the radiating warmth of your cunt, covered only in thin cotton panties, come to rest against his twitching cock. 

He choked out a gasp as you slowly started to grind against him, and he could feel the outline of your pussy lips through the soft fabric that barely covered them. You lowered your body onto him, your face hovering close to his, and moaned softly in his ear as you urgently pressed yourself into his lap; the sound you made, so melodic, so filled with yearning, made Sanji buck his hips up into you almost on instinct. He reached up and sunk his fingers into your plush hips, guiding your motions up and down his length, as he felt the precum that leaked out of his pulsing head start to coat your inner thigh. 

“Sanji, Sanji, Sanji,” you murmured, your lips so close to his he could almost taste your lusciousness. “If you wanted to know all the things I think about you—all the filthy, dirty things I think about when I lay in bed at night—why didn’t you just ask?”

Before he could answer, before words could even take form inside the lust-filled fog in his mind, your lips were engulfing his in a warm, honeyed kiss. He moaned into your mouth and parted your lips with his tongue, hungry and wanting to taste every bit of your deliciousness; it was better than he’d ever imagined, better than he could have dreamed, to have your pillowy lips against his, your tongues dancing. As he fed from the sweetness of your mouth, you reached down and pulled your panties to the side. You grasped his cock and dragged the head along the slickness of your pussy lips, as he groaned your name into the stillness of the room.

“Do you want me, Sanji?” you asked as you slid him past your lips, letting him feel your entrance pulse against his agonizingly sensitive tip, keeping the warmth of your wet walls just out of reach until he told you what you so badly need to hear.

“Yes, god yes, my sweet,” he answered frantically, his fingers grasping at your hips, trying to pull you down onto him, as he buried his face on your neck, his tongue tracing lines up and down your skin, his lips trying to kiss every inch of you that he could reach.

“How bad?” you continued, as you squeezed his cock, feeling it swell in your palm.

“I want you so much,” he whimpered, as his hips thrusted weakly upwards into your hand, so agonizingly close to being inside of you that he could practically feel your warmth surrounding his aching cock.  “I want all of you, every last beautiful bit of you. Now won’t you let me feel you, please?”

“Lay back,” you whispered, a drowsy smile on your lips, as you ran your fingertips down the sharp lines of his jaw. He reclined back onto the bed, and watched your eyes flutter shut and your mouth go slack as you lowered yourself onto him, and took his length into your waiting cunt.

Sanji gasped deliriously at the feeling, and the sounds of his bliss echoed in the room. You were better than he ever could have thought you’d be, better than he’d ever fantasized at night when he’d fuck his fist and wish so desperately it was you. Your velvet-soft pussy gripped him as you gyrated in soft, slow circles, and he slowly thrust up into you, matching your motions. He felt a deliriousness wash over him as he listened to you sigh his name over and over again, like a song he wanted to listen to forever, and he relished the weight of your body pressing into him as you placed your hands on his chest and took your pleasure from him.

“You’re so beautiful like this,” he marveled, as his hands drifted upwards from your hips, exploring the expanse of your form.

“What, with your cock inside me?” you smiled.

“Exactly,” he grinned, his fingers tracing over every dip and curve of your body.

He reached under your shirt and caressed the contours of your breasts, gently kneading them in his palms. He brushed a thumb over your hardened nipple, and felt your pussy flutter around him as you whimpered in the most delectable way.

“Sanji,” you whispered as you rode him, your voice soft and wanting, “will you touch me? Make me come?”

“Yes, my darling,” he panted, running a hand down your body and slowly sliding it down your thigh. “Anything you want, anything you need.”

He pulled the dampened fabric of your panties to the side, spreading your puffy lips apart with his fingers, and found your swollen, tender clit with little effort. He tentatively pressed against it with the pad of his thumb and a needy moan escaped you; he made gentle circles over it, trying to match the speed of your gyrations.

“Like this, my dear?” he asked, his gaze fixed on you, watching every glorious expression you made as he set your core ablaze with his touch.

“Yes,” you answered through ragged gasps, “just like that. Just like that.”

“Good,” he panted as your breaths quickened and your motions began to slow as you focused on his ministrations. “That’s it, sweetheart, take what you need from me.”

He felt himself harder than he’d ever been, aching so much inside of you, as he started to feel you flutter around him.

“Sanji, I’m so close,” you keened. “Just don’t stop, please don’t stop.”

“Never, my dearest,” he said, desperate. “Not until you come for me.”

“Oh Sanji,” you cried, your eyes clenching shut, “Sanji I’m gonna—”

Your words were cut short by a sharp cry as you clenched tightly around him, your walls spasming as you cried out for him, your shaking thighs pressed tightly to his and your hands gripping frantically at his shirt. He was stricken wordless by the splendor of seeing you abandon yourself to pleasure, watching you convulse unabashedly and utter some of the most exquisite moans he had ever heard.

“Why don’t you let me do the rest of the work, gorgeous?” he uttered softly, as you doubled over and rested your head on his chest, your breaths emerging in stutters and gasps.

You nodded, only able to muster a weak “Mm-hmm,” and he gathered you up and helped you lay back onto the bed. He stood up, quickly undressing, overcome with an insatiable need to bury himself inside you again as quickly as possible. As he lowered his trousers, he noticed the fly and waistband of them were drenched, your juices coating the stiff fabric; he felt his heart skip a beat at knowing he made you do that, that he made you come apart for him and soak his clothes in your wetness.

He stood at the end of the bed as he stripped his shirt off, and took in the sight before him: your body splayed across the bed, panties discarded to the side. Your shirt pulled up over your breasts and your skirt still clinging to your figure, pushed up over your hips. Your legs spread apart and your pussy exposed with your swollen, sensitive lips coated in your glistening slick.

“Are you read for more, my darling?” he asked, barely waiting for your whispered answer before plunging himself inside you, feeling your copious slick coating his length as your walls quivered around him, aftershocks of your orgasm still rippling through you.

Sanji had wanted to take his time—wanted to make passionate love to you like someone as magnificent as you deserved, not just fuck you—but the way you clenched around him, the way you sighed so dreamily and so beautifully for him and only him—it was all but impossible to hold back.

He felt your legs wrapping around his muscled back, pulling him into you, as he thrust, driving him deeper into you.

“You’re so perfect,” he murmured, his lips against your ear, “so beautiful. This is heaven.”

You moved together simultaneously, your hips lifting upward to his thrusting body, and you whimpered as his cock pulsed inside your needy cunt. You rocked against each other, bodies arching and colliding in perfect rhythm, his lithe frame almost elegantly hypnotic in his motions. He gazed down at you with adoration, watching your lips part to gasp with every stroke, and he found himself edging ever closer to his own release.

“Sanji,” you asked, your eyes glazed over and half-lidded, lips barely parted. “Will you cum in me?”

“Yeah? Want me to fill up that pretty pussy, baby?”

“Please, Sanji?”

“Anything for you,” he sighed. The sweetness of your voice, the way you said his name, was like a drug; it was all he needed, all he ever wanted to hear.

His pace quickened, his thrusts becoming more erratic and frenzied, the feeling of your warmth wrapped around him becoming more and more euphoric with every stroke. At last, he groaned your name in blissful agony as his hips stuttered and he spilled himself into you, your greedy cunt pulling spasm after spasm from him, until he collapsed on top of you in exhausted bliss, your mingled juices slowly dripping out of you.

“Oh my darling, that was amazing,” he said through staccato breaths, his face buried in your neck, as he tried to regain his composure. “I don’t know how you’re even more perfect than in my dreams, but you are.”

“Was it everything you hoped for?” you asked, smiling as you ran your fingers through his damp mess of blonde hair.

“My sweet, you were spectacular,” he sighed, as he stroked your cheek gently with the pad of his thumb and planted a tender kiss on your forehead.

“Oh Sanji, you were incredible,” you grinned, tracing your fingers along the sinewy contours of his upper arms, before adding in a teasing whisper: “Can’t wait to tell my diary all about it.”

[sl-vega]

04; next door nuisance

project: love liason! - a scaramouche smau

Standing outside your new neighbour's house was an oddly daunting task, it was only a few meters away from your own, but there was something so...intimidating about it.

Maybe it was because of how put together the home seemed, even from the outside, maybe it was because she told you the lady next door was a doctor and successful people were inherently and utterly terrifying to you.

Or maybe it was because she had a child, and children were the absolute bane of your existence. But here you were, about to become free labour while your mother talked to Dr. Raiden about whatever mothers gossiped about.

Part of you wished you had agreed to Navia's invite to the movies a few weeks prior, sure you would be third wheeling her and Chlorinde's god-awful attempts at flirting but at least you wouldn't be tagging along with your mother and her new friend while probably babysitting some brat.

But alas, here you were, now on the doorstep of your new neighbour's home, your finger trembling as you reached out for the door bell. Before your mother promptly pushed it herself, clearly growing weary of your hesitation.

Hell, you would've taken doing that boring project with Childe's tag along over this. What was his name again?

From inside the home, you could here a woman's muffled voice call out something; "Kuni? Could you go get the door?"

The sounds of footsteps neared the entrance, and the lock slowly clicked as the door swung open. You had expected to be met with a snotty child, maybe around eight years of age, but you weren't.

Instead, you were met face-to-face with the same indigo eyes that seemed to constantly haunt you everywhere.

"You?!-"

"Oh, it's you."

The pair of you especially emphasized the 'you' part, you more so due to the shock and him more so due to disappointment. He glanced at you, looking you up and down for a few moments, clearly trying to recall some details about your identity.

"You're...Mona's friend right..?"

He quickly turned behind him to let his mother know that you were here before finally letting you and your own mother into the house, she promptly walked in to greet Ms. Raiden in the kitchen leaving you and Scaramouche to your own devices.

"Yes, I'm Mona's friend."

Part of you wanted to admonish the guy for not even bothering to call you by your own name, but then you remembered you had been referring to him as 'Childe's tag along' for the past few weeks so it was honestly fair.

Suddenly, a woman had entered the entry way, where you and Scaramouche were currently in.

She had dark purple hair, much like her son, and had it styled in a loose braid that was draped over her left shoulder. She had a beauty mark right underneath the corner of her right eye, and her faced seemed to be in an eternal state of stoicism.

She finally flashed you a warm- though slightly strained-smile, before gesturing to the dining room.

"You must be Mrs. (L/N)'s daughter, she's told me so much about you! I'm Ms. Raiden, but you can just call me Ei."

She introduced herself formally firmly shaking her hand and escorting you to the dining room.

"Kunikuzushi, you didn't tell me you knew each other."

She laughed quietly, though there seemed to be an off putting undertone to her words, you remained quiet however.

As did Scaramouche.

Making your way to the dining room, you took in your surroundings, noticing several photographs of what you assumed to be a younger Scaramouche, he was smiling in just about all of them, but there were hardly any of him and Ei. You held your tongue, not wanting to pry about his family life just yet.

The three of you sat down at the dinner table, the place being chock-full of a variety of dishes. Though a tense atmosphere surrounding the room nonetheless, most notably between Scaramouche and his own mother.

God, this was gonna be a long night...

Quickly sneaking your phone back into your pocket, you decided to take Lynette's advice and promptly decide to strike up a conversation on your own accord.

"The food is really good Miss Ei, are these your own recipes?"

The woman chuckled as she set her spoon down, giving you the same warm-yet still strained nonthesless-smile, as she patted her lips with one of the napkins at her side.

"Oh no! Not at all! I can't cook to save my life dear, Kuni does all the kitchen work."

She said as she gestured to Scaramouche, still referring to him as 'Kunikuzushi' despite you never hearing of the name until now. Yet once more, you still decided not to press about the topic.

"Oh really? Cool..."

You muttered as you glanced over to the quiet boy sitting across from you. Other than a quick short answer to your prior questiong regarding Bluey, he was extremely quiet, seeming to dread every second of this dinner. Upon further observation, he was constantly eyeing the staircase towards the upper floor of their house, clearly looking for any excuse to leave.

And honestly? You wanted just that too.

For what felt like the next few hours, the dining room was only filled with the sound of both of your mothers' chatter and the ever so occasional clinking of forks filled with brief interludes of silence for each respective person to chew their food.

After a while, dinner finally came to an end...or so you thought. Because next thing you knew Miss Ei had pulled out the wine and charcuterie boards, and you knew you would be stuck here for an eternity.

With the only two adults in the vicinity now in the living room, that left you and Scaramouche alone in the dining room. Part of you was waiting for him to finally retreat upstairs, you would probably be a little bit hurt, but it was better than the awkward silence that was currently in action.

But he remained at the table with you, looking awfully intently at the ceiling.

Suddenly, the floor became incredibly captivating to you, so you too, found a new fixation, you'd honestly take anything over the only sentient being in the room with you.

But... you would have to be working on that project together anyways, so maybe getting to know this new guy wouldn't be so bad after all?

So steeling your resolve, you decided to ask the first question that came to your mind.

"So what's the deal with your mom calling you Kunikuzushi? I thought you went by Scaramouche?"

He seemed to flinch at the question, didn't take a genius to tell that you struck a nerve.

In your defense, saying the first question that came to mind didn't necessarily mean said question had to be a good one.

"The first one is my legal name, the latter is just a nickname that Childe gave to me when we were kids. It just stuck, I guess. Plus it's slightly easier for teachers to pronounce."

He answered, still avoiding eye contact with you. Though not in the sense that he was avoiding your gaze because he was shy, more so he was avoiding it because keeping up with something as simple as eye contact was beneath him.

"I didn't know you and Childe were childhood friends."

"I didn't know my relationship with Childe was so interesting to you."

Shit.

He finally met your eyes, the same piercing indigo gaze that always sent chills down your spine. Maybe it was an intimidation tactic of sorts.

"You like him, don't you?"

He asked, though, it was more of a statement than a question. There was an underlying tone of 'you weren't being slick' that practically echoed in the back of your mind.

Your mouth was slightly agape, barely a few hours into properly knowing each other and the conversation was already heading in that direction?

Tonight was going to be a long night indeed...

additional notes:

the scarayn is scarayning chat

i fear I cooked with this chapter 🤭

(or maybe my standards are just low cuz I haven't written a proper written fic in a WHILE)

anyways as y'all know dark mode = scara pov // light mode = yn pov

^^ little refresher once more

and taglist is always open!

𝜗𝜚 SYNOPSIS: you're head over heels in love with childe, and scaramouche is (begrudingly) smitten with his "rival" mona. and, by sheer divine coincidence, you both happen to be the best friends of each other's objects of affection, so you strike a deal with each other. if scaramouche helps you ask out childe, you'll set him up with mona. so with the annual spring formal right around the corner, the two of you vow to be each other's wingmans so you can end your junior year on a high note (and maybe even kick off your senior year with a new relationship!). between, scheming, planning, and researching, you and scaramouche find yourselves developing a new relationship via helping each other out. now the real question is whether this friendship will remain as a pure platonic bond, or blossom into something more?

<PREV ll MASTERLIST ll NEXT>

🎀 - taglist!;

@agaygothicmushroom @035814 @freyao7, @sketcheeee @tsukimara @shyentsmissingink @peachystea @aries-afk @lxkeeeee @sakiimeo @sugxryratz @shutingstar @lalaloveallmydays @bellflower1257 @haruumei @kichiyosh1 @littlemisssatanist @dee-zbignuts @candyescapism @crimxeorcremeexistspeacefully @h3ll0-kitty-4lly @franaby @la-cursii @heusalettle @automaticpatroltragedy, @c4ttheart, @meigalaxy @misswetty @introvertaku02, @daiyunjin @trulyylee @lily-lmao @kazumiku @kunikuzushis-darling @vitanye @livelaughlovekuni @imnotyizhuo @akagi0021 @rook-kisser @mitsuribe @scaraenthusiast1 @chemiru @193i3 @matolka @tamikahoshiko @jayzioxx @samyayaya @dontmindtheevie @v3ntis-lyr3

[theclaravoyant]

boyfriend material ~ a 7x06 bucktommy coda (T)

AN ~ inspired by this post ... ~1200 words of shamelessly self indulgent domestic bucktommy fluff

-

“I'm sorry we couldn't stay,” Tommy says again, as Evan helps him through the door. Going on hour thirty-something awake – and a pretty strenuous thirty something at that - is taking its toll, but his heart still flutters when Evan laughs.

“Nothing to be sorry for,” Evan promises. “All the reception stuff's been pushed anyways. Tonight, I'm all yours.”

A smile lifts Tommy's weary lips. “I like the sound of that.”

Evan pauses a moment, hooked under his arm, to gaze admiringly with his beautiful blues. He likes the sound of that too, and he leans up on his toes to press a tantalising a kiss to Tommy's lips – a promise to pick up where they had left off earlier, but not right now.

“You want to shower first or eat first?”

“Uh...” What he wants is to collapse into a heap in the entry way and sleep like a log for the next several days. But Evan is right: if he doesn't eat something (other than that beautiful, light, fluffy, sugary cake), he'll be sick, and it's not like he can sleep in his turnouts anyway (although his heavy eyelids beg him to make an attempt).

“How about this,” Evan proposes. “You shower. I'll make us something to eat. Where's your bathroom?”

The words on the tip of his tongue are, you don't have to stay, but Evan is already leading him through the living area and toward the hall. His shoulders are steady bearing Tommy's weight. It's been a long time since he let himself lean on somebody like this.

“Second on the left.”

Evan steers them in and still doesn't leave. He helps Tommy shrug off his jacket and turnout pants, and heave off the boots Tommy's tired feet have swollen into. He turns the tap onto a hot, steamy setting and blasts it, then presses a drink bottle into Tommy's hands. “Get some electrolytes in you, too,” he insists. “When did you...” You know what, never mind. Tommy unscrews the lid and all but swallows the bottle in one go. It sends a tingle through him – he did not realise how dehydrated he was. It's also a little lemony, which is a nice touch. The lemon ones are his favourite.

“Take your time,” Evan instructs. “Dinner will be waiting when you get out. I'm right here if you need me.”

Only then does he finally peel away, leaving Tommy to extricate himself from his remaining sweat-slicked inner layers of clothing and stumble into the sweet beckoning call of the shower. With the help of the steam and citrus scrub he begins to wash the day – days? - off himself. It's a familiar ritual as the sirens and screaming and falling trees and the stench of melting asphalt fall away and leech out of his pores and wash down the drain. Even his head feels a little clearer, his limbs a little lighter by the time he's done and ready for the less familiar part... an enticing smell from the kitchen, something involving garlic, lime and chilli? His mouth waters.

-

Buck beams as a soft, clean Tommy pads back out into the kitchen in the soft, clean pyjamas he'd laid out for him. His soft, clean curls are even starting to puff back up already, and the promise of a meal has put a bit of pep back in his step.

“Feel better?” Buck asks. “You have no idea.” Tommy hums in satisfaction, deep and rumbling in his chest as he pulls Buck in for another kiss. Buck takes a deep breath and the musky deodorant that's meant to smell like some kind of forest – one that isn't on fire – makes his head spin. He very much does have an idea of Tommy's relief, is the thing, and the bone-tiring, soot-drenching work and the power of good old citrus scrub is something nobody he's ever dated can really understand. If Tommy's knees weren't about to drop out from under him, Buck thinks, he might just climb the man like a tree. But not tonight.

“You like stir fry?”

“God, yes.” Tommy all but snatches the proffered bowl. He moans as the first delicious mouthful forces him to savour it. It's positively indecent, but he's so hungry he's going to puke, so he continues between enthusiastically shovelled mouthfuls - “This. Is incredible. Where'd you learn to cook like this?”

Buck can feel himself blushing and puffing his chest up with pride at the same time. He humble-brags the best he can about how Bobby's taught him everything he knows. And about that one time he worked a kitchen in Phuket and learnt this killer Thai chilli sauce recipe. Tommy likes spicy food too apparently and jumps in with a story about how he, Chim and the other 118 crew back in the day had once challenged each other to eat prik kee noo and ended up with all of them (or as Hen would later correct it, all of them stupid enough to try) weeping over various sinks. It's easy, regaling each other back and forth and laughing until both of them are fed and blood sugar stabilised and Tommy's had as much water as he dares force through his poor kidneys. Still, the day they've had bleeds back through eventually – not least because Tommy sways dangerously with exhaustion on his way back from the bathroom, and Buck takes this as his cue to make his exit. He offers for Tommy to text when he's up, for a lift to Harbor for his truck, to do the dishes sometime the next day, but Tommy counter-offers;

“Stay.”

Yes. Buck's already thinking about what to make for breakfast tomorrow. Or today. Or whatever it is. But he manages -

“Are you... sure?”

“Evan,” Tommy scolds, with a fond, fatigue-addled smile on his face. “You've been up over a day and a half too, you know. And no, passing out in Chim's hotel room doesn't count. Frankly, it would be counter to my sworn oath to let you drive home. Please. Come to bed.”

“Oh, well, if it's for the greater good...”

They didn't get a wedding dance, but there's something of a whisper of it in the way Tommy reaches his hand out to lace his fingers through Buck's and draw him into the bedroom. It's so pleasantly dark in here on burning eyes, and the pillow is so blissfully cool on Tommy's face, that by the time Buck has kicked off his shoes and pulled his belt from its loops the time for any more flirting or kissing or talking has well and truly passed. Nevertheless, he smiles to himself, and settles in beside Tommy, and finally falls asleep to the sound of gentle snoring.

[renren-006]

Hii, could you do something with fezco where he basically takes his anger out on his girlfriend:reader)

Anger and love | Fezco x F!Reader

word count: 678

warnings: angst, anger, fluff

A/N: Hey!!! thank you so much for the request!! I hope you like it!!!

You started living with Fez a few years ago when you first graduated college and got a job working for the local paper. You and Fezco had been dating for a few years before you moved in with him. Things had been good, until the drug business began to be too much for Fez to handle. He had been moody towards you and lashed out in ways. You did your best to stay back when he was like that or when he went to make a deal. 

Ash was like your little kid, he came to you when he needed someone and he also came to you when you yourself needed someone. More times in the past year he came to you in warning whenever Fez was particularly pissed about something, usually about drug dealers, drug meetings or Rue was a bad bother. 

This one day though, Ash forgot to let you know before the fight between the two of you broke out.

Fez had another deal that night and you were in the kitchen cleaning up from the dinner you had made for yourself when the pair walked through the door. Ash went straight to his room and fez wandered into the kitchen, not a word to you. 

“Hey, how was the meeting?” you asked, hoping to get some response from your boyfriend and not be ignored. 

“Why do you care?” he asked shortly. His eyes were glazed, he was angry. 

“Im sorry was just concerned, you didn't say anything to me”

“God are you that selfish! You need that much attention, if i knew i was getin’ a needy girlfriend i never would have dated you! Fuck Y/N just leave me the hell alone, God!” he yelled at you, anger boiling over him. You stepped back into the sink, you wanted to slap him, but you knew that would only make it worse. But then the realization of what he just said washed over him. “Y/N” he spoke but you flushed and rushed out of the kitchen and into the hallway where you passed a worried Ash.

“Thanks for the heads up” you said, annoyed and hurt. “I'm sorry” Ash said quietly but your door was already closed and the sounds of crying echoed to his ears. Fez stood outside the entry to the hallway.

“Whats wrong with you brother” Ash spoke to him, and Fez realised that he had fucked up. He had never yelled at you like that before. There had been times where he'd just told you to back off, trying to let you know he wasn't in a good mood but this was altogether a different thing. He needed help, and you were the only one who could. 

You heard the door open and the feeling of the bed rock beside you. Fez sat on the bed, next to your body hidden and covered in blankets. 

“I think I need help,” he said finally. “What i did to you wasn't okay”

“No it wasn't” you said sniffling away the tears that wanted to fall again. He stayed seated where he was, letting you make the move to come closer to him. You didn't move. 

“What i said wasn't true, you're not needy and i wanna tell you hi…I was angry at the world not you sweetheart” he said, the tears were now rolling down his cheeks as he realized he could have ruined the two of you forever if he kept going down this path. 

“You took it out on me, when all I wanted was to be there for you” you said angrily after you sat up slightly, still not looking at him. 

“I know…thats why i need help” he said, “and i need help being better for you” he told you. You turned around finally towards him and enveloped him in a hug, and the two of you made a plan to better communicate. From then on his anger wasn't taken out on you, but rather the punching bag you set up in the side yard for him.

[trexdrabbles]

I would absolutely die for a little Gambit drabble with #5 from that prompt list!

I have been absolutely dying to do one of these so thank you! (Fem reader since nothing was specified!)

NSFT under the cut!

#5 - "Let me take care of you, yeah? I'll do the work."

It had been a long day. Long day, long week, long month. Work had been getting just uncomfortably busy as of late, and you just had to keep reminding yourself that every evening spent away from home and every weekend tacked on too was only adding to your bank account and the reserve of compensatory time off you had been saving up. A few more weeks of this and you'd finally be done with the worst of it all and swore you were going to take a whole month off, and sleep straight through the first week of it. Even with the finish line in sight though, you needed a break, and badly at that.

And you weren't the only one who seemed to think so.

Remy had been a little busier on his end of things too, but not enough so as to not notice how you practically dragged yourself through the door each day, or sounded absolutely dead when you were on call with him. Today had seemed particularly rough, coming home late on a Saturday evening, short pumps in your hand that you had taken off before even driving home and had just carried up the driveway with you. But with all that misery was the littlest glimmer of hope in the fact that you had the next day off. A lovely little blip in your hellish schedule and god did you intent to make the most of it.

Cuddling with your boyfriend had definitely been prominent on your mind as a good place to start and had honestly kept you going through the final half of your work day. Opening the door to confirm that he was actually, in fact, there had been quite the blessing too. Realistically you knew he wouldn't take off without at least a text shot your way at the bare minimum, but seeing him there with your own two eyes just cemented the knowledge that you were going to finally have a damn good day off.

"Lookin' good, but ain't lookin' too hot," he commented, glancing up from whatever he had been doing on his phone, looking you over with something close to sympathy that only grew closer when you answered him with an exceptionally eloquent groan that perfectly conveyed 'I almost wish I had just been hit by a car on the way home so I wouldn't have to deal with this anymore'.

"I feel like death," you announced, dropping your poor shoes unceremoniously right beside the door and then kicking them a little further away from the entry for good measure.

"Already got dinner goin'. Be done soon."

That was enough to lift a little extra weight off of your shoulders as well and you sighed for it.

"That's why I love you," you murmured, drawing close to press a small smattering of kisses to his lips and cheek before figuring you'd go and change before sitting down to eat.

"Love me for plenty a' reasons," Remy retorted between kisses, smile permanently affixed to his lips throughout.

"Mmm, no, just that one," you teased, laughing slightly when he caught you around the waist to keep you from wandering too far off.

"Just gotta remind you a' the rest, don't I?" You knew exactly where he was going with that and admittedly it sounded pretty damn good, but you were already struggling with wanting to stay awake as it was.

You leaned in to give him one more kiss before moving to step back again. "You can remind me tomorrow."

Your efforts to go and change clothes were once again thwarted by his grip tightening a touch more and when you glanced back at him, his smile had lost its teasing edge.

"C'mon chère; let Remy take care a' you, yeah? Been runnin' yourself down, let me do the work tonight."

Fuck, if that didn't get you.

Somehow dinner was enjoyed at a relatively normal pace before he was dragging you off to your room, dishes to be ignored until tomorrow. Remy kept up with his words too, hardly letting you lift a finger as he grabbed a change of sleep clothes for you and helped you out of your work clothes. You had thought just immediately crashing with your entire body tangled around him would be a perfect end for the night, and that was entirely off from what was happening now. Though admittedly, being stretched out on your bed, thighs locked around his head and fingers curled into his hair as his tongue pressed expertly into you, lapping up everything you had to give and then some was an even better option.

[wonderful-rp-resources]

A Very out-of-context set of Sentence Starters from my Discord server.

Add names to blanks Change pronouns as necessary!

"Murder in marriage is normal and healthy."

"Oh haha, yeah lobotomize them."

"Metaphorically speaking, I cannot tell you if you serve cunt or not."

"The sins better be crawling up my back because if they do at the front they're going to have two massive obstacles"

"You're a really predictable person_ _ _ and it's really funny to me, I want to crush you under my arm <3"

"Clearly you've never had a premium rock roast and I'm so sorry for you."

"I dont know I haven't sniffed you."

"Cock and ball torture for anxiety and ocd hell yeah!"

"Bimbos are the larval form of milfs."

"I will slow down im just carbonated to meet you."

"They are homoerotic and homoirritating."

"The uggs do make my soul frown, I'll give credit to that."

"I dont have good or bad habits I just enter a state somewhere between a robot and a bad stand-up comedian and that's how the stuff happens."

"She went to evil hell college where you summon devils."

"I do nothing but put beasts in a situation that's why they call me the border collie."

"The lore exists. If I'm feeling particularly zesty and tased I'll drop two sentences."

"Hi _ _ _, I'm the devil on your shoulder and even I agree that you probably shouldn't pull up hot ass in a nice restaurant."

"Vagina so powerful it does what walruses do to clams."

"Yes, we established _ _ _ has the walrus mouth vagina."

"Never assume I can't be hornier."

"That is a man held together by crust and spite."

"I can't, I was assassinated so I wouldn't snitch about the squeaky toy noises."

"I WAS AGREEING THAT THEY LOOK LIKE CHICKEN NUGGETS YOU SOGGY SALAMI."

"_ _ _ is more likely to take you on a date killing homeless people."

"I won but it was embarrassing."

"He's just hanging loose like a tit that's escaped its harness."

"_ _ _ trying very hard not to bring up his girlfriend (the Cambrian period.)"

"Lick my boots but we stay silly."

"I keep thinking he's a weird god ascended form of Jerry Seinfeld."

"I dont think that's a good idea _ _ _ would become a stick of incense in 5 seconds flat for sneezing microaggressively."

"She has disabled the flap in my esophagus i choke on a gulp of tea instantly."

"We have from the left: Thembo, Himbo, tiny himbo, bimbo, And bitch."

"Keep your mouth open so I can shove my fist inside."

"I wanna enjoy dinner, not watch someone get snapped in half like a KitKat bar."

"My standards for a good partner are non-existent, if I raised the bar remotely, Not only would he TRIP, but he'd fall backward and break a hip."

"Good luck it's behind six layers of 4chan."

"It is fine. the conversation needed to end anyway. please continue your vegetation exultation."

"I have normal amounts of radiation for a horse."

"What does a planet have to do with a music genre?"

"Fear not, I will not be kissing misogynists any time soon."

"Pain is weakness leaving the body."

"You were born at an incredibly old age."

"You seem like you would be an entry on the villains wiki."

"I don't bite strangers….that's an easy way to catch diseases, dumbass."

"...So his unhappiness is only half my fault."

"It's ok buddy, I've licked dirt too."