#I love the prompts for each week and gotta say week 2 and 5 are my favorites

[hirumi25]

My (late) logs for the RC9GN DTIYS event hosted by @evilspiritweek from week 1 to week 5! (*￣∇￣)ノ

[frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe]

i'm outta my head over you Pt. 6

prologue (Pt. 1) | Pt. 2 | Pt. 3 | Pt. 4 | Pt. 5 | AO3 | playlist

ok, i really love this one; i hope you guys do too!

today's @steddie-week prompts are: together and Hold the Line - TOTO

C’mon, Munson, get your shit together. You’re the music guy here!’ He tells himself. Okay yeah, that’s true, but that doesn’t mean he’s great about expressing feelings. ‘ That’s what the music’s for, dumbass. ’

Eddie spends the rest of the night and into the next morning pouring over what other songs he could add to the B side of Steve’s tape (and what songs he’s gonna use for the Party Tape…he’s gotta have a blank tape around here somewhere…).

He has a couple contenders, he just doesn’t quite know how they fit yet. Steve had a reason or an explanation for each song on his side, so Eddie wants to do the same. Only problem is that the songs that already do remind him of Steve, are ones Steve’s already put onto the A side.

Fuck, has he been telling him his feelings all this time? The first half of Steve’s side of the tape were his go-to songs whenever they’ve hung out together, while Eddie was recovering at his house.

He goes to sleep that morning with a handful of possibilities, but nothing concrete, then is awoken just before lunch by his phone ringing. 

“Shit,” Eddie hops up groggy and disoriented with sleep, but scrabbles down the hall to the phone so Wayne doesn’t wake up.

“Munson residence, the fuck d’ya want?”

“Eddie! Ste– Ok, rude.”

“Rob? What’s up, Birdie?” Eddie scrubs his eyes with the back of his hand.

“Steve’s coming back a day early!” Eddie’s hand freezes. “Do you have the tape done??”

“N-no, no I only have three fuckin songs on it! Damn it, I thought you said he was coming back tomorrow!”

“Hence the call telling you he’s coming back early. He’s landing in Indy at noon, will be here by 3, and somehow Dustin’s already found out so now I’m roping you into ferrying Steve’s children to the arcade with us after he’s back.”

“Hey, they’re my children too!” Wait, what? “Wait, I didn’t say that. Why’d I say that? I don’t even want kids.”

“Nope, too bad. You already said it. You and Steve have joint custody of the shitheads.”

“We’re divorced now?”

“You were married in the first place?” Robin snarks back then mumbles, “Didn’t I just have this conversation?”

“What?”

“Nothing. You coming with or what?”

“No, Buck, I gotta finish his tape now!”

“Too bad, you’re coming. And I’m going to tell Henderson you are so he won’t let you back out.”

“Robin don’t you dare-”

What is with her and hanging up on him??

He’d just gotten back to his bedroom door when the phone rings again. Just barely stopping himself from screaming, he goes back to the handset.

“Hello..?”

“Dude. Would it kill you to sound excited?.”

“Henderson, your sarcasm is not appreciated this early in the morning. And why would I be excited about being volun told to pickup you hellions for the arcade?”

“‘Cause you like spending time with your friends, maybe? Now, do you and Max wanna come pick up me and Lucas? Steve will pick up Will and El at theirs, and pick up Robin and Mike on his way.”

“Sounds like you’ve already got everything planned out, Dusty.”

“Your exasperation is not appreciated this late in the morning.”

“...I don’t have to come, you know.”

“But you know you wanna.”

“Do I?”

“Yes. See you at 2:30.”

Just once , Eddie’d like to be the one hanging up on someone else.

Whatever. Looks like he’s got plans this afternoon.

Eddie looks at the clock on the wall above the fridge. Four hours. Now, does he nap, or does he eat and start getting ready?

They’ll probably grab pizza while they’re at the arcade…nap it is.

Eddie wanders back to his room and is out as soon as his head hits his pillow.

—

Miraculously, he wakes up exactly two and half hours later; just enough time for a shower and to get ready before picking up his half the goblins.

He showers, scrunches a majority of the water out of his curls (Steve’d shown him that little trick, would start on about “Eddie, we went over this! You gotta take care of your curls!" and, "They’re so gorgeous and you’re soooo handsome and hot and I totally wanna pull that hair when I fuc—” OKAY maybe that last part was just wishful thinking, but Steve’d definitely have a conniption if he shows up today with flat hair), and gets dressed.

From the extra spluttering their feeble A/C is doing, and the not-at-all refreshing breeze that crawls through his window when opened, Eddie can confirm that it’s definitely too fuckin’ hot out.

He pulls on his most ripped, well loved pair of black jeans, the holes in the knees long since flayed mid-thigh to mid-shin, a sleeveless cropped Metallica shirt, and his vest.

Grabbing up his rings and chain, he leaves a note for Wayne as to where he’s gone, slides his feet into his reeboks, and heads out the door, keys in hand.

He’s just got the back end of his chain hooked around his hip when he makes it to Max’s door.

“Y’ready Red?”

“Just a minute! It’s unlocked!” she calls back through the door (and slightly cracked window over her sink)

“Need any help?” he asks, closing the front door behind him.

“Nope, just gotta get my other shoe on and I’ll be good. Did you bring the van over?”

“I…did not. That’d probably be a good idea, huh?”

Whoops. He spins back around and jogs back across the street to hop in his van. By time he’s parked outside the Mayfield trailer, Max is hopping her wheels over the threshold onto the tiny step outside the door.

“Whatcha want me to do?” He’d learned real quick not to just start doing things for her, no matter how much he assumes they’d help. Max did not like anyone thinking they have to help her with every little thing, so now they all make sure to ask what it is she’d like them to help with before doing it.

“I just need to lock the door and you can help me into the van. You’ll probably have to come back for the chair though.”

“Of course, your highness.” he gives her a low bow while she locks her front door. “Your hand please, m’lady.” 

She rolls her eyes, but takes his hand. 

Max is able to walk across flat areas pretty well and for an OK amount of distance before getting too tired, but the breaks to her leg really did a number on her. 

She’s got steel pins all through her leg, and has just gotten out of her cast so she wants (and needs) to walk more often to get her strength back up, but has her chair to get around much easier.

So until she gets stronger, she needs help going up and down stairs, and will need help getting up into Eddie’s van, but should be okay for a while once at the arcade.

Once she’s settled, Eddie goes back for her chair, loads it into the back of his van, and they’re off to Henderson’s.

He and Lucas are already waiting out front when he pulls up.

“About time.”

“Dustin. It’s literally 2:31. Calm the fuck down.”

“You guys better get all your swearing out before you see Steve again, you know he’ll go all mom on you.” Lucas laughs. “Here, I’ll start. Hey Max, how the fuck are ya?”

They’re all in so Eddie starts off towards the arcade.

“Hey, show some fuckin’ respect for your mother, Sinclair.”

“Shit Eddie, didn’t know you were our goddamn father.”

“Of course he didn’t fuckin know, Steve hasn’t gotten his shit together enough to propose.”

“Damn, alright, calm down”

“Don’t fuckin’ tell me to calm down! I swear, I’ll put my foot straight up your ass.”

“Fuck, fuck, fuckity, fuckfuckfuck.”

All four bust out laughing at that, not quite able to catch their breath before one of them is saying some random curse. 

They’re all red in the face from laughing so hard by time they pull into the parking lot between Steve’s beemer and Nancy’s station wagon.

Dustin runs in immediately after the van stops, and Eddie slyly leaves his keys with Lucas so he can lock up after helping Max, heading inside himself

Now, up until the exact moment he saw Steve (2 whole seconds ago), Eddie thought he was taking the whole “Steve Harrington has big sappy feelings for you” thing really well. Perfectly, in fact! 

No freak out, no huge feelings of doubt, just full focus on ‘responding’ to him.

But now, seeing him again after finding this out…It’s a wonder he doesn’t collapse. 

This beautiful, perfect, amazing man standing in front of a whole herd of teens (two of whom are at eye level or taller than he is now) with a scolding glare, hands on his hips, and flanked by the two most badass ladies he knows…wants him.

Eddie Munson.

It still doesn’t seem real.

Eddie immediately wants to be simultaneously on the other side of the planet, and wedged so close to him that they’re basically the same person.

“Pizza in an hour and a half!” Steve yells after the herd as they disperse. Even Robin and Nancy head off toward the skee-ball machines.

“You okay big boy? You look like that trip took a lot outta you.” 

‘Wow, nice one. You just got here and you’re asking him why he looks gross? Great job, Doofus.’ Why does his inner voice sound like Robin?

He looks over, and Eddie sees his face light up. “Eddie!” he breathes, pulling him into a tight hug.

Steve lets him go, and reaches up to rake through his travel-mussed hair. “And yeah, it was fine, always nice to see my grandparents.”

“Yeah, Robin mentioned you needing to go over their will or something? Everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, they’re—“ he cuts himself off with a half-hearted chuckle, “They wanted to meet with my parents and I to let them know that their estate is being split 50/50 between us when they pass. Like, half to me and half to both of them.”

“Damn. It’s nice to know I’m marrying into money.” Eddie jokes, leaning into Steve’s side to whisper: “Max spilled your secret on the way here; I promise to act surprised when you finally get the guts to propose.” he whispers with a wink.

Steve’s face turns bright red, but he smiles all goofy. Fuck, he’s cute.

“Aw shit, I really wanted it to be a surprise.” He says, his voice getting gravelly with how low he’s speaking. 

It most definitely does not make Eddie flush red himself, nor do his jeans start feeling tighter, thank you.

Steve gently pushes Eddie back, his hand lingering on the back of his arm a moment too long before his fingers trail down and off his elbow. He starts again, back at a normal volume. “But yeah, Richard and Denise were not happy; I was surprised, though. I’m really appreciative that my grandparents would do that for me.”

“Okay, so it was good news! Why the…” Eddie gestures to all of him. “…glum.”

“It was just the plane ride man, I flew from Cali to Indy with a screaming baby next to me. It was hell let me tell you.”

“I bet.” Eddie winces.

“Plus, Robin stole my favorite tape while I was gone so I couldn't even listen to it on the way here. And that’s been like, the soundtrack to my life lately. Felt weird coming home and then not having it in my car already.” he shakes his head “I dunno, it's dumb, but they are my favorite songs.”

“I know what you mean,” Eddie nods, his heart in his throat. “Can't you just like, go get it back from her house?”

“She’s ‘gotta find it’.” He sighs, throwing up air quotes around Robin’s flimsy excuse. “Which for her, is code for ‘I lost it.’. It's no big deal though, it’s just music.”

“Nah man, music is important, you can communicate a lot with it.”

Steve just shrugs again, a good ol’ ‘What can ya do?’ , so Eddie pats Steve’s shoulder sympathetically and walks over to the far wall of machines. He leans up against the one that Max is bashing away at and looks around the side, like he’s watching what she’s doing.

“What’re you doing over here? You’re not gonna beat my score, Munson.” she snarks from her perch on one of the arcade’s few padded stools.

“Huh?” He looks at the cabinet. Dig Dug. “Oh. Wouldn’t dream of it, Mad Max, just came over to try and look cool, scope out the scene,” ‘Scope out the scene’?? WHO ARE YOU?? “Don’t mind me.”

She just rolls her eyes, “For some reason, Steve already thinks you’re like the coolest guy in the world. You don’t need to fake it.”

Eddie blinks down at her. “OK, seriously, how do you know so much?”

“I dunno; something about losing one of my senses? Or maybe my brush with death left me wise beyond my years…” she sighs wistfully.

He snorts, “Oh yeah? Then I should be way smarter.”

“Yeah, you should be.” She fights to keep a straight face after that one. Damn that was slick.

“Good one, Red.” he pats her once on the shoulder, then goes back to watching her play. It’s actually pretty impressive being that she’s got brand new coke-bottle glasses she should be wearing.

“I’m not gonna wear ‘em. I look like a doofus when I do.”

“Aw, I thought you just said I was cool!” he pouts.

Her mouth twitches up at that. “No, I said Steve thinks you’re cool. I think you’re a Doofus.”

“Exactly! And if the big man himself thinks I’m cool, then you’d definitely be cool.” He leans in and looks around conspiratorially, “and I have it on good authority that the rest of these goblins think whatever he thinks is cool, is cool too.”

She smiles, and her game bleeps to an end. “Yeah, they all do think he’s like, the greatest ever.”

“And you don’t?”

Her face blushes a soft pink. “Shut up, Munson. How do you know so much?”

He stands up straight and grabs hold of his vest lapels like some stuffy professor. “I’m smart ‘cause I died,” he says in a haughty tone “...or something.”

A couple of unhinged barks of laughter burst out of her. “I’m gonna go with ‘or something’.”

Eddie spends the next hour trying to mess up the other shitheads’ games. 

Smack a wrong button here, a poke under Dustin’s armpit there, general fuckery. 

And every time he and Steve pass one another, there’s some sort of touch. 

He didn’t notice it the first time, thinking Steve really did need to hold onto him while passing behind him. A classic midwestern “Ope, lemme just sneak by ya” just to get close to him.

When he looked back, there was no one at the cabinet behind him.

So Eddie gave it back tenfold the next time he encountered the party’s beloved babysitter.

Walked behind him on his way to where Mike and Lucas were now trying their hand at DigDug, and gently squeezed his hip.

Steve jumped about five feet, but it was worth it when Steve came up to his side later and wrapped his arm around Eddie’s lower back, settling his large palm briefly on the exposed skin of his hip and stomach where it peeked out from under the cropped shirt.

Eddie immediately felt the need to pull his hair up; Fuck is it hot in here?

Bun secured, and Steve gone off to bother Robin and Nancy at the air hockey table, Eddie knew what he was going to do next. 

He left Wheeler and Sinclair to continue to lose to Max, heading toward the water fountain. 

Steve’s standing with his back to Eddie’s path so when he passes, it’s just too easy to reach out, grab a lock of hair, and pull .

He’s rewarded with the sound of a poorly muffled moan (that he’ll be thinking about forever, thanks), and Steve is gifted an unobstructed view of his ass while he bends over to get a drink.

Eddie stands when he hears Steve’s panicked “Robin, can I talk to you a second?”

He comes back to take Robin’s place next to Nancy where they’d been playing two on one with Steve.

After a beat, Nancy says, “I hope you’re ready to have Robin as a permanent third wheel.” She’s still looking forward at the other end of the table.

Hah! That’s hilarious. “Won’t be as bad since you’re the fourth.” Eddie shrugs, then puts his fist out towards her, also looking off to where he can see Steve panicking at Robin.

Nancy’s knuckles knock into his, and he’s never felt closer to anyone in his life.

Only one half of the Harrington-Buckley twins come back, coming up to her girlfriend and linking their fingers behind the folds of Nancy’s skirt.

“Mama Harrington is getting the pizzas now; we’ll go get some tables pushed together, will you herd the cattle?”

“I feel like they’re more like cats. Especially that Max one, she’s got her claws out like, all the time.” Eddie says, half over his shoulder, as he heads off, hunting down the gremlins.

Mike and the elder Sinclair are still nowhere near Max’s high score, Dustin’s getting berated by baby Sinclair over how bad he’s doing at Donkey Kong, Will and El are together at the Polybius cabinet, Max in her chair now at El’s side.

‘ That’s all of them right? ’ Eddie counts them in his head while he looks around. Yep, that’s all of them.

He heads back to the little arcade pizzeria area, freezing in his tracks as he rounds the corner into the open arched doorway.

Every little thing he’s ever noticed about Steve Harrington over the last however many years feels like they’ve just been building to this moment.

Every damn day spent thinking he was the most beautiful person to ever grace the halls of Hawkins High (he is), every story he never believed about how badass he was from the mouth of his oldest adopted kid, every moment he spent shielding each of these people that have become so beloved in Eddie’s life.

Every painful scar, every dreadful day spent healing with Steve at his side, every. Single. Thing. Has built up to this one.

The most mundane of them all. 

The nine most important people in his life, the biggest family he never wanted but now can’t even think about a life without them, sitting around three tiny tables and clamoring over one another for a slice of the pizzas in the middle of them all, being hovered over by Steeeeeve Harrington.

“Careful Mike, don’t put your elbow in Dustin’s face! That thing’s sharp…Max, do you want me to grab you some? What kind do you want? No, Ellie, sweetie, I’ll hand it to her, no powers needed today, okay? Will, which pop do you want, bud, you gotta speak up so Dustin doesn’t drink all the Vernors. Lucas, will you grab some more napkins—no arguments you little shits, everyone needs napkins. Erica, are you good? Okay, good. Ed—where’s Eddie, he needs to eat too…”

Oh.

Oh.

Part 7 here!

yes, i did have the wonder twins playing Polybius.

also, mayfield/munson sibling vibes are so important to meeeeee.

also also, i love max getting adopted by steddie just as much as dustin BUT you cannot tell me she doesn't also have just a lil' crush on steeb.

tagging the lovelies: @hellomynameismoo, @messrs-weasley, and @manda-panda-monium

[yell0wsalt]

Fic Writing Review 2023

Reflection

This was my first year getting more into fandom, specifically fanfic writing and, wow, I learned a lot. About myself, where I'm at, and where I want to be. Each one I'm trying to figure out what may work for me.

In one way or another I've tried different ideas, some I'm happy with, others not so much. I'm learning to be okay with that.

To accept that I have not done much particularly interesting and there is still so much more I can think about and try. It is a learning experience, slowly expanding my bubble and getting exposed to different perspectives and takes.

Words and Fics

128,421 words posted on AO3. Plus several ficlets on tumblr I don't care to keep track of

2 published WIPs I'm currently working on

32 fics published.

7 multi-chapter fics published

2 multi-chapter fics published and in progress

Top 10 Fics by Kudos

10. Gotta Cool Down, I'm Heated (M, Korvira)

9. Blooming (G, Linzin)

8. Cinnamon Spice Bliss (T, Irosami)

7. Say It (M, Linzin)

6. A Closed Discussion (E, Makorra)

5. Loving You throughout the Years (M, Linzin)

4. A Spark in the Dark (T, Linzin)

3. Your Electric Touch (G, EraserMic)

2. A Lazy Winter Morning (E, EraserMic)

1. I'm Bored, Let's Fuck (E, Linzin)

Fandom Events

AU Roulette 2023

Shinishi of the Deep (Cosmic Horror AU)

Blooming (Medieval AU)

More than You Know (Mecha AU)

Lin Beifong's Week

Say It

ATLA Rare Pair May Day

Monsters and Myths

The Taste of Your Care

Fox Cat v. One

March Madness

I'm Bored, Let's Fuck

A Closed Discussion

Promises of Today and Tomorrow

Upcoming Plans for 2024

I have several WIPs I need to to finish. Let's take care of those.

There are several writing prompts I want to tap into as ways to spark other ideas in me I may not have thought of before on my own.

Aside from writing for my OTPs, rare-pairs and other ships are tingling at the mind. There are a few I am eager to try.

Not feel so embarrassed to write something or anything that's dumb or silly. Every now and then, you need a little of that.

"Be a little weirder than what you think is okay" This is the space for it and it makes things interesting.

Again, finish the WIPs.

[andhetoldmeiwasholy]

Marina Prompts-

1. Carina has enough from dating and applies to be part of a TV show, where they find your ‘perfect’ match based on science and the participants see their match the first time in front of the altar. Carina meets Maya on their wedding day and both go through with the ceremony, but now without cameras there, they have to find out if this was the perfect match or should they get a divorce

2. Being a single parent and not getting out of the house enough is not easy, but maya loves their kid and if they have to put their dating life on hold, so be it. But when Carina moves into the apartment next door, it’s the kids that see an opportunity to make their parents happy

3.Carina moves into a new apartment and wants to check out the closest dog park. Their dog (Jeff) loves it there, especially that one dog (ford) that seems to be there almost every time they go. With their dogs being madly in love with each other, Maya and Carina are forced to spend more time together as well

4.Carina getting hella jealous when she sees Maya out and about with their (not) date and end up following them around. Maya catches them and is like, “Why are you following me?” And Carina’s like, “To tell your date how much of a dick you are so they can avoid dating someone like you.” (or, alternatively: Maya cornering Carina about it, and Maya being like, “But why do you care?” and Carina saying, “I don’t.” And then they somehow end up fucking them in a random alleyway or at a back of a bar or something. You can fill in the details on how they get to that point.)

One shots-

5. Maya starts her period on shift, has to message/call Carina in a panic hoping they don’t get called out. Doesn’t wanna ask Beckett to leave.

6. Maya spilling coffee/soup all over themselves by accident and starts panicking, so (insert character) helps them take off/clean their clothes right when Carina walks in

7. “C’mere… Want snuggles.” (Featuring grabby hands!!!)

8. Maya bleeds through while asleep, wakes up embarrassed (or Carina wakes her up)

9. “Stop sticking your feet down my pants!” “It’s not my fault your asscheeks are hella warm.”

10. “I wanna be big spoon this time.” “But you’re tiny.”

Sentence smut starters prompts-

11. Maya/Carina strap au “all i can think of is sitting on top of your hard cock

12. Maya/Carina AU- Maya is a porn director who owns her own company, Carina is just starting out in the business to further her study. They cross paths.

13. “God you’re such a dick” “Yeah and you are about to take it like a good girl.”

14. “You’re the sweetest thing I have ever tasted.”

15. Maya/Carina fight turns smutty “Go fuck yourself.” Cocky Maya “Only if you watch me~”

16. “What are we doing right now?” “Fucking. What else?” “…It feels more than just fucking.”

17. “Show me how you do it when you touch yourself.”

18. Mile high club- Carina books them first class seats, she’s gotta learn how to be quiet. “You have to be quiet if you want to cum, bambina”

19. “If I have to pull over, you’ll be walking funny for the next week.”

20. ‘Innocent’ movie night “You don’t realize what it does to me when we’re cuddling and you press your ass against me.”

21. “What the fuck?  Do that again.  I liked it.”

22. “How are you so oblivious?  I’m trying to tell you I’m fucking horny!”

23. “You know it’s fine if you’re a little rough with me, right?” “But I don’t want to hurt you…” “It’s fine, I can take it. I want it rough. Please?” 

24. “Wake up!” “What? What happened?” “Why did you just moan in your sleep?” “…What, were you turned on by it?” “What?! No, of course not! Umm….Disturbed, but definitely not turned on.” 

25. “Where should I sit?” / “The couch works just fine, but if you prefer comfort, my face works far better my darling.”

26. Maya-“Your wife isn’t very pleased with the outfit you chose to wear tonight, you made those fools think they stood a chance.” / Carina-“Maybe they did.” / Maya-*incredulous laughter* “Is that right baby? I go on a work trip for a few days and you just forget who you belong to? Don’t worry sweetheart, I’ll remind you.”

27. “Kiss me, please.” / “Is that all you want baby, is for me to kiss you?” / “N-no, I also want you to fuck me senseless, but a kiss sounded far more romantic.”

28. “Fuck, you’re doing so great for me, sweetheart,” Carina praises, hands gripping onto the sides of Maya’s hips as she rub herself against her wife’s thigh in a quickening pace; smiling a little when Maya whimpers at the praise. 

Please let me know if you write any!!

Please lemme know if you write any 🙏🏻

[thenasoneshots]

Blaine Oneshot - Some Secrets are Worth Sharing

Requested?: No

Prompt: None

Type of oneshot: Fluff

Reader's Relations: None of importance

Warnings: None I can think of

Other notes: 1) You’re the principal of Dalton’s daughter. 2) You’ve been pretending to be a guy for a while. 3) Sebastian is in this, but i haven’t actually watched any of the episodes where he’s in (i’m only on like season 2) so he’s prob going to be ooc, but even then he only appears for like a minute, and you’re really good friends with him. 4) (M/n) means male name (cause you’re pretending to be a guy.) 5) Kurt doesn’t like Blaine in this (Kurt is my special lil bean and I don’t wanna make him sad)

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

“Can I ask you a question? Are you guys all gay?”

I let out a small chuckle at Kurt’s question, before taking a sip of the (insert drink) in front of me, as Blaine answered his question, “Uh, uh, no. I am, but no, these two have girlfriends.”

“I’m bisexual,” I spoke up, after swallowing the mouthful of (drink).

---------------------------BLAINE’S POV (After Kurt has transferred btw)

“Seb! Come back here! I told you to stop stealing my things!”

I turned around and got out of the way just in time so I didn’t get knocked over by Sebastian running, however, (M/n) did bump into me, “Sorry! I wasn’t looking where I was going. Sebastian stole my comb again and he won’t give it back, gotta run!” before he ran off chasing Sebastian again. Kurt helped me stand up and I thanked him, “Kurt, can I tell you something? I’m in love… with (M/n).”

“I’m happy for you Blaine, really! Just tell him!”

I shook my head, “I can’t.”

“Why?” Kurt asked, “It’s not like he’s straight or something.”

“It’s not that. It’s obvious he likes Sebastian, and I can tell Sebastian feels the same.”

“How do you know for certain? Because of the amount of time they hang out with each other? I’ll ask (M/n) if he likes anyone and try get him to tell me who, then you’ll have your answer.”

—-----------------------YOUR POV

“(M/n), question. Do you like Sebastian?”

“Well, yeah. Of course, I do! He’s my best friend.”

Kurt just let out a groan, “I mean romantically.”

“Oh… No, I don’t. Plus he’s gay anyway,” I replied, staring up at the clouds.

“But you’re a guy too…. Wait a minute, (M/n), are you a gi-”

“SHHHH! Fine, yes, just don’t tell anyone.”

“How though? Dalton’s an all-boys school.”

“My dad’s the principal. To be honest with you, Kurt, I got bullied at my old school because I was bisexual. I begged my dad to let me come to Dalton because of the ‘No bullying’ policy and he did immediately say no, due to Dalton being an all-boys school, but I told him that I could pretend to be a guy. I would take cutting my hair and wearing a binder over being bullied any day of the week, so my dad agreed, and I’ve been going here ever since. You and Sebastian are the only two that know I’m a girl, that’s why Sebastian keeps stealing my stuff. I’d like to keep it that way if you don’t mind, so please don’t tell anyone! Please, I’m begging you.”

Kurt just gave me a hug, “I promise I won’t say a word.”

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

“Where is it? Where are you, you stupid binder?!” These were some of the questions that were floating around my head as I searched my room, almost turning it upside down trying to find it. I eventually gave up and growled to myself as I buttoned up my Dalton blazer, fixing my hair in the mirror, “Well, I guess I’ll have to roast today,” I told myself as I looked out the window, seeing that the sun was shining brightly. I sighed and left my room heading to my first class of the day.

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

“Curse you, sun!” I growled, lying on my back, fanning myself with my hand, “Why does it have to be so hot?!”

I heard Blaine chuckling beside me, “Just take your blazer off, (M/n). We’re allowed to if it's this hot.”

“NO!” I exclaimed, swatting his hand away as he placed it on my shoulder, shocking him and Kurt, “I-I mean… I don’t want to get it dirty… So I’d rather keep it on.”

“Then just unbutton it.”

I shook my head, “No.”

“What are you hiding? (M/n), I know you’re hiding something from me… Tell me,” Blaine protested starting to poke me, knowing it got on my nerves. I rolled my eyes and mouthed to Kurt for him to help me. He smirked and just gave Blaine a nudge, pushing him into me, causing us to fall onto the grass. I felt my face heat up and I saw Blaine’s eyes widen when we realised where his hands were: on my chest.

“Y-you’re a girl?!”

I immediately pushed him off me and ran off, ignoring his shouts for me to come back, and ran back to my dorm room, shutting myself in.

A few minutes later, I heard a knock on the door of my dorm room, “(M/n)... You in there?”

“Go away!” I replied, “I know you hate me or not telling you-”

“I don’t,” I heard Blaine reply from the other side, “I want to talk to you. Please?” I sighed and stood up, opening the door, and letting Blaine inside. I encouraged him to sit next to me on my bed and spoke quickly, “Yes I am a girl, my real name is (Y/n), but you can’t tell anyone else, please. I’ve been pretending to be a boy cause I persuaded my dad, who is the principal, to let me come here because I was bullied for being bisexual at my old school, so when he let me come here, I cut my hair and started wearing a binder so I’d seem more like a boy. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, but my father didn’t want me to tell anyone.”

“Does anyone else know?”

I nodded, “Sebastian and Kurt. Sebastian because he walked in on me getting dressed once, and I’m sure the image still hasn’t left his brain, and Kurt because when I was telling him I didn’t have romantic feelings for Sebastian, I said “Plus he’s gay anyway”, and Kurt figured it out from that that I wasn’t a boy. I pro-”

I was cut off when he took my cheek in his hand, kissing me. I was shocked due to the fact that I’d thought he liked Kurt, but wrapped my arms around him, kissing back, something I’d wanted to do for ages. When we broke off, I spoke up, “B-but I thought you were gay.”

“I thought I was too. When I realised I was in love with you, I thought I was gay, but now, at least bisexual.”

“So, even though you know I’m a girl, your feelings haven’t changed?”

Blaine nodded and I smiled, “Does that mean I can kiss you again?”

He chuckled and nodded, kissing me again.

-------------------------------END OF ONESHOT

More oneshot…

[twwpress]

Weekly Press Briefing #61: August 20th - 26th

Welcome back to the Weekly Press Briefing, where we bring you highlights from The West Wing fandom each week, including new fics, ongoing challenges, and more! This briefing covers all things posted from August 20 - August 26, 2023! Did we miss something? Let us know; you can find our contact info at the bottom of this briefing! 

Challenges/Prompts:

The following is a roundup of open challenges/prompts. Do you have a challenge or event you’d like us to promote? Be sure to get in touch with us! Contact info is at the bottom of this briefing.

@callixton is hosting The West Wing Pride Week (@twwpride here on tumblr) September 17 - 23. More details here! 

Photos/Videos:

This was a huge week in TWW media. Before we get to the regular round-up, we’re going to start with a mini round up of all of the photos and videos from the August 22nd SAG-AFTRA picket line event: 

Amy Landecker posted an Insta reel of Bradley Whitford speaking.

Devika Parikh posted a slideshow of photos with the cast from the event. 

Janel Moloney posted a selfie with Bradley Whitford from the picket line. 

Josh Malina helped organize the TWW reunion aspect of the event and posted a number of videos and group photos: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

Kathleen “Bird” York posted photos from the picket line: 1 | 2

Kim Webster posted a slideshow of photos from the picket line with throwback photos from the show’s glory days mixed in. 

Mary McCormack posted a group photo from the event. 

Peter James Smith posted a photo round-up from the picket line. 

Richard Schiff posted a video of himself and his son being picket line captains at the Paramount gate. 

Here’s the rest of what was posted from August 20 - 26:

Marlee Matlin posted a video on her birthday.

Marlee Matlin posted a photo of herself and her friend Liz Tannebaum in honor of Liz’s birthday. 

Marlee Matlin posted a photo of herself with her brother Eric and her sister-in-law Gloria in celebration of Gloria’s birthday. 

Melissa Fitzgerald posted a photo of herself with her dog for National Dog Day. 

Donna Moss Daily: August 20 | August 21 | August 22 | August 23 | August 24 | August 25 | August 26

Daily Josh Lyman: August 20 | August 21 | August 22 | August 23 | August 24 | August 25 | August 26

No Context BWhit: August 20 | August 21 | August 22 | August 23 | August 24 | August 25 | August 26

@twwarchive: August 20 | August 21 | August 22 | August 23 | August 24 | August 25 | August 26

Editors’ Choice: 

This week's cast reunion has got us thinking present day/future fic thoughts! We already did a future fic roundup in a previous briefing, but here are a few more present day/future day fics to satisfy all your where-are-they-now cravings!

everything I need is right here by my side by WitchyPrentiss for flowersinapril  | Rated G | Josh Lyman/Donna Moss | Complete |  Post series JoshDonna - wholesome married people who love and support each other.

dancing in a snowglobe ('round and 'round) by JessBakesCakes | Rated G | Josh Lyman/Donna Moss | Complete |  Tonight, they’re celebrating the Inauguration of their dear friend Sam Seaborn, the newest President of the United States. They’ve been married for fifteen years, they have three daughters who are getting ready in their own bedrooms, and it’s just Josh with a pile of snowballs at his feet, standing on the sidewalk of their home.

//Snowballs, 20 years later

Heavy Days In June by Lily_Padd_23 for supernatural_mondler (starzinoureyes) | Not Rated | Josh Lyman/Sam Seaborn | Complete |  A glimpse at an alternate summer 2020 with President Seaborn in the White House.

Takes the Biscuit by Nemainofthewater | Rated G | No Pairings Listed (Gen Fic) | Complete |  Three times Josh is amused at the Leader of the Free World. And one time he wants to straight up murder him.

all i gotta do is say your sweet name by hufflepuffhermione for mikaylawrites | Rated M | Josh Lyman/Donna Moss | Complete |  "You’re not going to come out and hear me speak?”

Josh kisses her cheek. “We’ll be waiting in the wings, and then I’m taking you home.”

“Home?”

“Well, to the hotel here. We have two rooms…” he says, wiggling an eyebrow.

.

October 2022. While surprising Donna on the campaign trail, Josh reads an article and finds a new word to describe his wife.

It seems like the new normal is a word count limit on posts, so we'll keep reblogging with the week's fic updates after the Editors' Choice section each week. Stay tuned for this week's fics!

[moonbeamnights]

Tropetember Day 9: 5+1 (Hard Mode Prompt - 5 times Character A’s kid calls Character B Mom/Dad + 1 time Character B acknowledges they’re their kid.)

@tropetember

Summary: Five times Neal acknowledges Belle as his mom, and one time Belle acknowledges Neal as her son.

Author's Note: Takes place in the modern AU from this post. Neal is supposed to be about six years old in this, but I don't know a lot about children so if I haven't written that accurately we can just pretend.

1

Neal had never really thought about siblings. He loved his mama and his papa, and their little family was enough for him. But now Mama and Papa were divorced and Mama was married to Belle. And now Neal had to think about siblings because Belle was having a baby.

“My mom is having a baby,” he says to his friends sitting around the table in art class. His mama is their art teacher, and Morraine glances skeptically over to where she’s talking to some of the other kids.

“She doesn't look like she's having a baby,” she says.

Neal shakes his head. “My other mom.”

Belle isn’t that, technically. Mama had explained to him how she was only marrying Belle to provide for her and her baby and so it was different than when she’d been married to Papa. She’d said it like it was a reason for Neal not to think of Belle as his parent. But Neal doesn’t know about different types of marriages and what they mean. What he knows is that Belle is nice to him and married to his mama, and as far as he’s concerned that qualifies her to be his mom.

“Oh,” Morraine says. “Well, that’s cool.”

Neal nods. He is kinda looking forward to having a sibling.

2

Neal and his friends are playing at the park after school under the watch of Morraine’s mother. They’re bouncing a ball back and forth, having given up on more elaborate games after the first few kids left for the night.

Another car pulls up to the curb. Neal, who’s just thrown the ball, looks over his shoulder and sees that it’s his mama’s car. From where he’s standing, he can just tell that Belle’s with her in the front seat, and he vaguely remembers something about her having an appointment today.

“I’ve gotta go,” he says, angling towards the pile of backpacks they’d left by the picnic tables. “My moms are here.”

Dustin catches the ball but doesn’t throw it again. He and most of the others follow a few steps after Neal, peering with interest towards his mama’s car. Neal is far from the only kid in his class with both a mother and a stepmother, but his is the only family where they’re married to each other, and his friends are naturally curious about the whole thing. Neal shrugs on his backpack and waves goodbye as he runs toward the car. He can see Mama and Belle turned to each other, talking as they wait for him. As he opens the car door, he’s greeted with two loving smiles and two voices asking how his day was, and Neal thinks this may be a curiosity, but it’s my family.

3

Normally, Neal went to school with Mama and spent the extra half hour before class started in the art room with her. But today Mama had a meeting with a parent. A very important meeting that Neal was not allowed to sit in on. So this morning he’d slept in and Belle had driven him to school.

But now, just as his hand was on the car door handle, Neal remembers that his class is going on a field trip next week. And he’d forgotten to have Mama sign the permission slip.

“Wait,” he says turning away from the door and unzipping his backpack. “Can you sign my permission slip? It’s due today.”

“Of course,” Belle says. She takes his offered folder to write on and a pen from the cup holder and repositions herself to sign. Between her baby bump and how far forward she has to have the seat, there isn’t much room for her to write. But she manages it turned sideways and after a quick thank you and goodbye, Neal heads into school with her elegant writing spelling out ‘Belle French’ on the parent signature line of the form.

4

“Mom! Mom!” Neal calls as he runs down the stairs. He skids around the corner, letting his socks slide him into the kitchen. “Can you help me with my homework?”

He finds Belle standing at the island counter, stirring something in a mixing bowl. Neal hopes she’s making cookies. She makes the best cookies.

He clambers up onto one of the stools opposite her and peeks into the bowl, grinning happily when he sees that it is, in fact, full of cookie dough. Belle glances up at him. “Your mama’s not here, kiddo,” she says.

Neal uses her distraction to swipe a chocolate chip that had fallen on the counter and pop it in his mouth before responding. “I know,” he says, perfectly aware that Mama had gone to the grocery store not long before. He slides his workbook across the counter toward Belle. “So can you help?”

5

Neal sprawls out on the living room floor, coloring in his newest coloring book. Mama and Belle sit on their corners of the couch, reading. The same book, because it's almost time for book club, which Belle says will the last book club before the baby gets here.

Suddenly, Mama announces that she’s going to bed. Neal and Belle nod and say goodnight and go back to what they were doing as she leaves the room.

It’s odd for grown-ups to go to bed before their children’s bedtime, is something that children instinctively know. But for Mama, it’s not really unusual. The first time Neal noticed, he’d thought she was sick. He’d crept into her room with his favorite teddy bear that always made him feel better when he was sick and offered to ask Papa to bring her a cough drop. Mama had gotten a little teary and bundled both him and the bear into her arms and said, “I’m not sick, baby. Just a little tired.” After that, Neal didn’t have to be a genius to see that “tired” really meant sad and that Mama always got sad after she’d been arguing with Papa.

Which raised a question now, because hadn’t ever noticed Mama arguing with Belle. He sets down his crayon, looks up at Belle, and asks, “do you make Mama sad?”

Belle drops her book.

She casts a worried glance toward the stairs Mama had recently disappeared up. “I hope not,” she says. Then she turns back to Neal with the full force of her motherly concern. “Why do you ask?”

Neal looks down at his coloring book, a little daunted by the intensity of her reaction. He was only asking a question. “I think Papa used to make her sad.”

“Oh Neal,” Belle says softly. “I’m so sorry.”

A strange feeling settles in his chest, something like being about to cry but warmer. He finds himself leaping off the floor and running to hug Belle.

As she wraps her arms around him, she says, “I try very hard not to make you and your mama sad. I promise I’ll always do my best for you.”

“I know,” Neal whispers. He can tell that being married to Belle has been good for Mama, even if she still gets sad sometimes. “I’m glad you’re my mom.”

+1

Belle hadn't left the house since Gideon was born, so when she finally feels up to taking a walk, she knows she needs to. Milah carries Gideon up to the front door to see her off. If she’s trying to prove that she’s capable of watching him, she doesn’t need to. She loves the baby almost as much as Belle does, and Belle trusts her completely.

Belle kisses them both then turns and heads out for her walk, smiling into the fresh air. She walks the few blocks from their house to Main Street, then finds her feet carrying her in a familiar but long-ignored direction. She stops in front of her destination and takes in the nostalgic sight of it and the floral scent that smells like her childhood. Her father’s flower shop.

Belle hasn’t been here, or even spoken to her father, since she was married to Gaston.

It had gotten tiresome to talk to him, to always try to explain why she couldn’t “just leave” when she knew he’d never understand. It had been painful, too, because when her father insisted Gaston wasn’t good for her, she’d known he was right and she’d felt lost and trapped in the reminder that she couldn't do anything about it. So she’d gradually stopped visiting, stopped calling, stopped texting.

Not to say that Moe was a bad father. He’d been the best father she could ask for, when she’d been a child. He’d simply been out of his depth dealing with her first marriage. To be honest, so had she. She couldn’t blame him for that.

The shop door chimes, announcing her entrance. Her father looks up from the bouquet he’s arranging at his workbench. “Belle!” he exclaims and rushes over to hug her. Belle leans into the embrace. It’s as warm and loving as ever, as if he’s already forgiven her absence.

“It’s good to see you, Father.”

“I’m so glad you came back,” her father says, and tears spring to her eyes from how much she missed him.

“Me too. Oh! And you should come to dinner sometime. There are some people you should meet.”

He frowns at that. “Not more of Gaston’s friends, I hope.”

“No,” Belle chuckles. Once, she’d made the mistake of inviting him to one of Gaston’s dinner parties. The night had ended with him thoroughly disgusted by the arrogant jerks her then-husband hung out with and her thoroughly embarrassed by the same. It shows how far she’s come that she can laugh about the incident now. “No, absolutely not. I want you to meet my wife and our two children.”

[bunnymajo]

No one asked, but it’s my day off so I filled out that OTP ask prompt I reblogged earlier for funsies for Surge x Elias(teen AU)

be warned it’s very cheesy

1. Who most initiates PDA?

-Elias. Without even being conscious of it, he’s just an affectionate guy

2. Any sleep habits either had to get used to?

-Elias is used to a typical early to bed & early to rise schedule, Surge just sleeps whenever she wants so he has to get used to her mostly if they’re in the same room

4. How did they first meet?

-Elias was camping and cooking outdoors, Surge thought it smelled good and wanted to steal it. They fought (Elias more lightheartedly than Surge, thinking it was just play fighting) and Elias eventually said “If you want some I don’t mind sharing” so she did and they started chatting 

5. What is their love language?

-Cooking for Elias to Surge, Showing off cool things she found and thinks he might think are cool too for Surge to Elias 

6. When did they realize they loved each other?

-Slowly & Gradually. Elias figured it out first when he realized he was thinking about her and her well being more often than normal. Surge was more stubborn about it for a long time, thinking “oh this chump is just some pretty faced guy, who cares.” but Elias helped save her one time and had a more serious look on his face and Surge was like “...oh.”

7. Who is more sentimental?

-ELIAS. 

8. What’s one way their personalities complement one another?

-Elias helps Surge keep her rage in check (very slightly) and gives her something to look forward to in her life, Surge shows Elias it’s ok to be a little selfish and do what you want that makes you happy and inspires his free-spirited adventurous self

9. How are their personalities different?

-Surge is the worst girl you’ll ever meet, Elias looks and acts like he was sculpted by angels

10. What are some activities they do together? 

- Sparing, anything sporty/outdoorsy.

11. Which member is more physically affectionate?

-Elias. Hand holding, nuzzling, hugging - he can’t be stopped

12. Which member is more verbally affectionate?

-Elias, partially just because Surge is just incredibly new at this. She’ll try but it’ll just come out a little sleazy sounding. 

13. Which member steals borrows the other ones clothing?

-Surge takes his stuff all the time but since Elias doesn’t wear pants there’s not a lot she can wear that’s his.

14. Are they an introverted couple or an extroverted one—AKA would they prefer to go out to a party or event together or would they rather stay in?

-Introverted, Elias is used to royal parties and get togethers. It's nice to be with someone who’s not about that life at all. Surge hates parties unless she’s going to trash the place.

15. Who is more likely to make an impulsive decision and who is the voice of reason?

-They’re both impulsive! And supportive of each impulse “Let’s jump into that lake!” “Oh that sounds like fun, sure!” But Elias is the voice of reason if it’s a violent impulse.

16. Who stays up way too late and who tries to drag them to bed?

-Surge goes to sleep when she wants to like a wild animal and Elias respects that.

17. Who fell in love first?

-Surge. She’ll never admit it was at first sight though.

18. What song fits them perfectly?

“The Theme from Big Wave” - Tatsuro Yamashita (at least it’s what I associate with them the most for now)

19. How do they deal with being away from each other for a long time?

-They’re used to adventuring separately, but they look forward to meeting again and try to think “oh I’ll have to tell them I saw this” “oh gotta get this for them next time” etc.

20. Who holds a grudge the longest?

-Surge. Even if she forgives him she’ll still bring it up weeks later.

21. Which of the two is quick to speak and which one is quick to listen?

-Surge says what’s on her mind as it’s happening, and Elias is always eager to listen, he’s fascinated by her.

22. Who gets more easily embarrassed?

-Surge. Will just run away if it’s too much for her.

23. Who overthinks the most?

-Also Surge. Trauma’s a bitch

24. Which of the two is the most competitive?

-It’s equal but Surge is more likely to take it seriously while Elias is more for fun

25. Who’s the most stubborn?

-Surge

26. How do they comfort each other?

-When her trauma just get to be too much, Elias’ presence is comforting enough but sometimes, sometimes, she’ll want to be held and he’ll happily oblige

-For Elias, if pressure gets to him Surge will think of the quickest way they can both blow off steam “Wanna go destroy some robots or something?” 

27. What random everyday object/activity makes them think of each other?

-Elias: Palm Trees, Surge: Warm Bread

28. Do they get along with each other’s friends and family?

-No. Sally and Kit want the relationship to end so they wont ever have to see Elias or Surge again, but want their siblings to be happy so they’ll just stare judgingly from the sidelines.

30. What is their favorite place to kiss the other? (Cheek, hand, closed eyelid, neck, nose, etc.)

-Elias: anywhere she’ll let him, he’s not picky. But he can usually get away with a kiss on her hand the most easily.

-Surge: she’ll never admit to liking kissing, also trying to kiss Elias is like kissing a lightbulb, it’s too bright & shiny you can’t even get close and it’s so embarrassing to even try it.

31. What’s the relationship like? Smooth? Rocky?

-Chunky peanut butter

32. How do they resolve their arguments?

-Sparring

33. Who has the most nightmares and how do they deal with them?

-Surge has the most nightmares, Elias will just be there and do whatever he needs to to give her comfort (sleep next to her, give her space, more blankets, etc)

34. Do they give each other nicknames?

-They both have a long list of names that they’re too embarrassed to use. Surge has more nicknames for Elias that were made with love but sound like insults.

35. What movies do they enjoy watching most?

-Action-comedy movies

36. How’d they meet each other’s families?

-Kit rarely leaves Surge’s side so he just came with the package, Surge found out Elias was prince and that didn’t go so well but he invited her to stay over if she ever changed her mind and she showed up the next morning at the Acorn Palace “Hey I’m here!” and broke in.

37. What do they like the least about each other?

-Elias wishes Surge wasn’t so quick to pick fights, Surge wishes Elias would be more assertive and picked more fights

38. What was their most memorable date?

-Acorn Kingdom Winter Gala, Surge’s introduction to the courts [insert hilarious violent scenarios here]

39. What other couple would your otp get along with the best?

-Tenchi & Ryoko (Tenchi Muyo)

40. Who makes the other smile with almost no effort at all?

-It’s pretty mutual, but Surge just has to be herself and Elias is instantly charmed

[inglourious-imagines]

PROMPT LIST

Hello people! This is my own prompt list! Feel free to send requests! I’m really excited to do this haha

Also, this really took me some time to put it all together so please, if you reblog/use it/etc. give me credit. Thanks!

Update: If you have your own prompt that is not listed, quote or whatever else and you think it’s great, you can send it to me and we’ll see what comes out of it.

1. I fucking hate everyone. But you, you’re the only person I don’t hate.

2. And he looked at me, like there was something in me worth looking at. 

3. Anger makes you stupid. Stupid gets you killed.

4. I’m here. You can talk to me or not talk to me but I’m here.

5. Goddamn right you should be scared of me! 

6. And suddenly, life wasn’t about living. It was about surviving.

7. "-but you’ll die!“ "I don’t care." 

8. I said I’m fucking fine.

9. Don’t you touch her.

10. We sat there smoking cigarettes at 5 in the morning. 

11. Oh! The girl/boy I’ve heard so much about. 

12. No one would hurt you again, or I’d kill them.

13. A cigarette for a thousand problems.

14. I could keep you save. They’re all afraid of me.

15. You look so proud standing there with a frown and a cigarette. 

16. Thank you for loving me when I still tasted of heartache and war.

17. His eyes had more darkness than any other eyes I had ever seen before.

18. You don’t know shit about what happened to me. 

19. This is who we are, a product of war.

20. Looking half a corpse and half a god.

21. I wanna see how you lose control.

22. I look at you and I just love you and it terrifies me. It terrifies me what I would do for you. 

23. "You can’t protect everyone.” “I have to try." 

24. He’s a badass with a good heart.

25. You are losing my interest, and that is very dangerous. 

26. In a fight, they’re lethal. Around each other, they melt. 

27. I wonder which will get you killed faster, your loyalty or your stubbornness.

28. You collect scars because you want proof that you are paying for whatever sins you’ve comitted. 

29. With this smile, I can get away with everything. 

30. I was so stupid to make the mistake of falling in love with my best friend. 

31. Come over here and make me.

32. Oh my god! You’re in love with him!

33. Oh, do you ever shut up? 

34. Can you two please get a room? 

35. I have a name and it’s not sweetheart. 

36. If I ever see you anywhere near her, you’ll have to deal with me. 

37. Everyone keeps telling me you’re the bad guy. 

38. Such dirty words from such a pretty little mouth. 

39. Kiss me. 

40. Are you flirting or starting a fight? 

41. You stay awake do you hear me?! Don’t you dare close your eyes! Please! Come on! 

42. Honestly, I only asked you for help because it’s so cute when you try.  

43. You’re standing a little close to me..

44. You’re evil. It’s hot. 

45. If you bite your lip one more time, I swear I’m going to do it for you. 

46. By the Gods! You love her, don’t you? 

47. It’s blood, not nuclear waste. Chill out. 

48. A knife? Are you flirting with me? 

49. "Hear me out.” “Why the fuck should i listen to you?" 

50. I’ve been wanting to kick your ass all week. 

51. Rumour has it, I make you nervous. 

52. Leave, leave right now.

53. Can you just fuck off already?

54. "I- I trusted you!” “Sweet naive girl, trust is for children. You are a soldier." 

55. Alcohol’s the only instant in my life.

56. You gotta stop saying things that make me want to kiss you. 

57. Please don’t do this. Don’t act like you care. 

58. Is everything supposed to go dark?

59. Why can’t you see what you’re doing to me. 

60. Fuck, you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen in my whole life.

61. It’s 2 in the morning. Why are you still up?

62. I want an answer, goddammit! 

63. You make me want things I can’t have. 

64. Cut the crap and tell me what happened. 

65. Hear my heartbeat? Just focus on that.

66. It’s nice to see someone who can appreciate my humour.

67. We’re more than just friends and you know it. 

68. It’s pitch black in here and I can see you’re blushing.

69. Yes asshole, I do care about you.

70. They’re both stubborn and it’s complicated. 

71. For you, I would.

72. I like you more than I planned.

73. I need you, idiot.

74. Golden eyes and a smile made for war.

75. Take that, fuckers!

76. I licked it so it’s mine!

77. We’re in this together. 

78. Can I have this dance? 

79. Look, I know you’re a hardass but can you play with my hair? It would really help. 

80. No! Stay away from me! Stay back! 

81. Maybe if you actually stop staring at her and talk to her, you might have a chance. 

82. You have to promise you won’t fall in love with me.

83. I know that face. That’s your I’m-upset-with-you face. 

84. I think we’d make this a fair fight if we each had a gun. Don’t you think, boys? 

85. He loves you, you know? He’s just afraid of admitting it.

86. Dear Lord, please have mercy on my soul. This woman/man will be the death of me. 

87. There are other things than Germans that can kill you. 

88. What the hell? You are supposed to hate me!

89. Why do you like me?

90. "You’re annoying.” “You love me.”

91. Wanna go to hell together? 

92. I lack the vocabulary to describe you.

93. You make me feel… you make me feel.“ 

94. What the fuck…?

95. So that’s you, the girl/boy who destroyed armies. 

96. You’re my regret.

97. You better not die on me! 

98. Can you stop shouting at me?!

99. Why are you making this so damn hard? 

100. But that’s the problem, (name). I don’t think I’m able to stop loving him/her. Ever. 

! UPDATE !

101. There is no way you’re going anywhere with him, not on my watch.

102. “You know you’re in love with her right?” “Since when?” “Since always.” 

103. Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t do this.

104. I love you, I do, but you’re a real pain in the ass.

105. Is that my shirt?

106. Neither one of us is drunk enough for this conversation.

107. I think I might be falling in love with you.

108. What are you talking about? You’re married!

109. I saw that. You just checked me out.

110. Quick, pretend you’re talking to me.

111. I just wanted to hear your voice.

112. That was, by far, the stupidest thing you’ve ever done.

113. No. The moment you saw me as a bet was the moment you fucked up.

114. "It could be worse.” “You aren’t the one bleeding.” “Look, you’re still alive. Stop whining.”

115. Are you naked under that thing?

116. “Are you flirting with me?” “You finally noticed?”

117. What the hell were you thinking?! 

18. You’ve been drinking tonight, haven’t you?

119. Well, if I told you, then it wouldn’t be a secret.

120. Is it weird that was a total turn on?

121. That was the worst joke I’ve ever heard.

122. If I kiss you right now, I won’t be able to stop.

123. What did you just say?

[an-inbetween-place]

13. Annual Return?

6:45 AM

Can we have a brief interlude for how absolutely shite (lol shes obsessed with that right now) the tumblr editing UI is? This teeny tiny little module that pops up ... we simply do not love it. I’ll bet we won’t even be seeing the same UI the next time we post but more on that later...

Anyways -- here we are, jet lagged after our 2 week trip to SE Asia (Bangkok, Krabi, Hanoi, Hoi An, HCMC just because future Jess will inevitably forget) and just in such a weird place emotionally. (There is no room for pretty prose right now).

Here, on this winter-y morning -- where it’s already past when I used to be on the Auburndale LIRR track, waiting for that cold rush of air that signified that I was on my way to Stuy and yet another day of routine was about to begin; the sky is still grey and dark and I’m sipping on a coffee, burning a candle and throwing my Haven onto it’s brightest possible setting (now that’s a purchase that might not be around - or used, rather - when the next post comes out but the vibes are just too good to return). 

I can hear the city coming alive around me - the clanging of the elevator, the rush of the cabs outside and the apartments across the way slowly illuminating. I do love and relish the moment the city wakes up; going from the rare quiet and serene city (lol would anyone who didn’t grow up in the city agree with me that the city @ 4-5 AM is ‘serene’) to the ‘hustle and bustle’ of people getting up, speed walkers on their way to the train with coffees in hand, delis and carts running through orders like nobody’s business. 

However, I feel rushed and anxious - like I need the cover of darkness to get all my thoughts out. Like I can’t be vulnerable in the daylight. Like I’m racing against the sun and as always, fighting a losing battle. Like my fingers and words are failing me with their lack of speed. Like I’m taking an exam and my thoughts are sticky and moving through honey.

And on that note, we should really just get into it. It’s the elephant in the room -- and I guess keeping in tradition, we should stick to initials on this blog. Good ole D. DRZ if you will. I cannot fathom a day that I do not remember this man’s name but if my brief scroll through this blog tells me anything, that day may come one day. (Well, I doubt I won’t remember his name fully, but it’ll be a foggy memory).

I’ve been saying this and stewing in it but I should say that I really did get what I wished for. For two whole years (and the last post commemorates it), all I’ve been saying is that I want something. Anything to make me feel something. Anything so that I don’t feel apathy and nothing more than a faint wave of sadness for a few hours over someone saying goodbye forever. Anything to make me fully understand the heartbreak songs and the crazy movies and everything in this godforsaken relationship obsessed media (holidays are not a fun time to be struggling with this).

I just saw something on Instagram that may have prompted this post. A joke about how with situationships, all they do is prepare someone else for a relationship with the next person. I suppose LI guy (S...XYZ? we cannot remember his last name for the life of us.. and that tells the audience enough really) would agree. 

I gotta get a move on - I see the sky lightening through the (white lol that was a terrible idea) curtains and my mom just called me. I need to move out of this headspace and get back into my normal business bich/empty head bich mood.

I’m being dramatic really - and that’s totally fine, we support our dramatic queens. Nothing has happened, but it’s just all in the water. We never were in a real relationship but we’re about to have our break up conversation. I can picture it completely -- I’m going to ask for more (as I have been) and he’ll let me know that he can’t give me what I want. The only shift here is that this time, I won’t respond with ‘okay’. It’ll be a ‘okay, I think we should stop seeing each other then’. And even typing that breaks my heart a little.

I think it’s the fact that he won’t fight for me that is the heart wrenching part.

I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised but I really want to be.

I suppose I should be all manifest the future you want and sending good vibes into the ether but I know that’s a fool’s mission.

I suppose that’s all I have left in terms of a defense mechanism --  the whole you expect nothing so you aren’t disappointed situation.

Who would have thought? A simple party for a friend of a friend, coming off of a weird situation with a coworker (lol A... what a time that was) and several drinks in... and we’d find ourselves here -- 6 months later. 

Not to silver line everything but this entire situation just demonstrates what little I had with everyone I thought I did have something with - LI guy, MS, S (BW one.. I forgot his last name which is a positive thing IMO), and the countless other 2/3 week dudes that I’ve cycled through.

I can’t even pinpoint why I like him -- I suppose I just enjoy spending time with him. He makes the time go by so easy -- it forever will remind me of that song ‘Loving You is Easy’. Not that I love him, but I can finally see what those lyrics are about.

It’s insane really - I want to talk to him all the time, I want to see him all the time, I want to wake up next to him and go to bed next to him - to start our days together and end them together. I want to travel together, to explore new places and have new experiences. I want to drink just a little too much together and think about nothing for a while. I want to feel safe and secure and wanted and loved and everything! I just want everything together.

Even typing that.. after the last few weeks, I haven’t even let myself think those thoughts - much less relish in them.

I know I’m falling for the classic girl move (also something I saw on Instagram... can the algorithm let a girl LIVE?). The whole, do you like him OR do you simply like the possibility of him? Everything you imagine with him?

Regardless, I want to acknowledge all of that. I want to acknowledge the good that we had, the reason for all the tears and heartbreak and angst. For all the glasses of wine and pining to the girlies.

It feels like pressing on the wound but I want to go through all the fun times we had. The somewhat insane night at the Canary Club that led to Maru. The countless number of bottles of wine we made our way through and my sheer surprise over the number of hours that pass whenever we’re together. My birthday. The hours we have spent on the phone. 

I struggle with recalling those things which may be a positive sign after all.. the body’s defense mechanism coming in strong.

Not to be vengeful, but I hope he’s sad. I hope I’m more than just a blip for a few hours and then he’s back on tinder.

And just like that, my coffee cup is cold and empty and I can hear the clanging of the garbage trucks outside. The cloudy winter light is coming in -- dark and grey and yet too illuminating for me to continue this really.

I suppose the last thing - and the main thing I wanted to get down earlier... I want so badly to relish in this in between place. This grey area of having something and not. This urge to be happy with what I’ve got even though it’s not entirely what I want - but at least it’s somewhat!

I know that’s a cowards move.

And I’d be lying if I didn’t say that has been my position since October (the infamous pre-Spain date lmao).

I’m nearly shocked by how many times I’ve cried in with/over this man. I mean the number is like 3 but still.

And I know that I cannot be happy with this. It’s a disservice to myself! To my original goal.

I know all of this and it’s still so hard. 

I guess I just really want someone. And at least in this moment right now, I want it to be DRZ.

Now that’s a line that future Jess will definitely cringe over...

7:38 AM

EDIT - 7:41 AM

As I was scrolling through this blog - something caught my eye... something about peach picking/hiking upstate. 

And an irrational anger overtook me - I mentioned it how many times to DRZ and did we go? Never. I mentioned going to a sports bar and watching a game and did we go? Never. And he had to gall to mention that that was something I wanted to do and asked me how it went when I did!

Good riddance. 

I should ride this high all the way to the conversation.

The gorlies are right - let that MAN-GO. You can do so much better.

7:43 AM

[starlightsearches]

Mistletoe and Holly

Part 1 │Part 2│Part 3

Modern! Armitage Hux x Femme! Reader

Notes: Hello all! I gotta be honest, these last few months have not been awesome for me. The school year has been super tough, and I have not had nearly as much time or energy for writing as I wanted. I wasn't planning on doing anything for Christmas, since I didn't think I'd be able to finish it, but after seeing @cyantomatos incredible winter prompt list, and reading @girl-next-door-writes lovely 10 days of Huxmas, I couldn't not be in a Christmasy mood. This is what I came up with, and I'm super excited to share it with you. All three parts are written, and I'll be posting them every other day this week.

This is heavily inspired by girl-next-door-writes 10 days series, so if you like this even a little bit, PLEASE go and check out her stuff.

5. Chocolate / Jewelry / Cold from cyantomatos winter prompt list

Warnings: just language, fluff and some angst

“Is this really your house?”

Your eyes are wide, and bright with reflections of the white-yellow lights adorning every eave and branch of Brendol’s estate. Thick flecks of snow catch in your hair in a kind of makeshift crown, too cold to melt just yet.

“It’s my father’s,” Armitage answers without really answering. He’d never spent longer than a few weeks here after his father moved to America. They were miserable breaks away from various boarding schools, until he was old enough to elect to stay in the empty dormitories for the duration of Christmas. Curled up alone in the frozen picture windows with some monotonous morality tale from the library was still an improvement to the seemingly never-ending days locked in his father’s hallways, always awaiting some new torture disguised as celebration.

You put your hand out on his arm, urging him to stop, and the world goes quiet, absent his echoing footsteps and frosted breaths.

“You’re not royalty are you? If you’re in line for the throne you have to tell me.” There’s laughter in your voice—an inside joke after all the Hallmark movies you’d forced him to watch during long nights of dull casework.

Armitage decides to play along, albeit a bit more macabre. “Only if my father dies.”

It’s difficult to hide his smile as he treks on towards the door of the colossal estate, listening to the clack of your footfalls on the cleared cobblestone drive as you catch up, taking him by the arm.

He shouldn’t feel this way—overcome by such a luminous sensation every time you touch him, like he’s warming his hands by a fire. He reminds himself, over and over and over again, that you’re friends. Just friends. Work acquaintances, really.

Although, he knows that’s not really true either. Work acquaintances don’t agree to spend the holidays together. Work friends aren’t supposed to be your date to family Christmas parties.

Armitage sighs through his nose. It’s awfully cliche of him to be head over heels for his pretty paralegal, and it’s awfully depressing that you’ll never feel the same way for him.

You manage to reach the covered doorstep without incident, despite the thin sheen of ice and the treacherous height of your heels. He pauses for a moment, holding you back from knocking on the door just yet.

“I have something for you,” he says, reaching nervously into the inner pocket of his coat.

Armitage hadn’t been sure if he would give you the gift. He’d purchased it a month ago, but the receipt still sits folded crisply in his wallet. There were a few times he almost returned it, planning instead to buy something a little less insinuative—like a gift card, or fuzzy socks. He stopped himself each time, at the thought of you wearing it.

He places the dark jewelry box into your gloved hands, and you look up at him through your lashes with a smirk. “Isn’t it against the rules to open a gift on Christmas eve?”

“I thought you might want to put it on now.” He hopes you’ll attribute the rosiness in his cheeks to the wintry chill, and he watches intently as you pop the lid on the jewelry box. Your soft gasp turns to a cloud when it escapes your parted lips.

“Armitage,” you whisper, the tip of one finger brushing along the delicate chain, “it’s beautiful.”

His chest fills with pride, the tension finally releasing from his shoulders. It had been quite the gamble—buying you jewelry. He wanted something understated, classic. Something appropriate for the office, and not overtly romantic, but still personal. Something that would remind you of him.

You lift the necklace from the box, holding it up to the light, admiring the pearl pendant that hangs from it’s center.

“Will you help me put it on?”

He swallows hard, and takes it from your hands, along with the box, tucking the latter back into his pocket. You turn away from him, pulling the scarf from around your neck, faint goosebumps spreading across your skin now that it's been exposed to the frigid air.

His hands shake as he undoes the clasp, circling the chain around your neck, his gloved fingers brushing against the neckline of your coat. He can’t believe he manages to secure it on the first try.

“How does it look?”

You turn back to face him, patting your hair to make sure it’s still in place. It suits you perfectly—the chain sitting gracefully against your skin, the delicate pearl resting just below the hollow of your throat.

“Lovely,” he breathes. He’s not talking about the necklace.

The lack of light—or maybe it’s the cold—must be playing tricks on his mind, because he’s almost certain he can feel you leaning in towards him.

“Thank you.” Your voice is a whisper in the darkness.

“Don’t mention it.” He whispers back.

He can feel that he’s leaning in, now, too, and he catches himself, clearing the air with a cough. “It’s well deserved—for all the hard work you do.” Your eyes go wide, your gaze falling to your shoes.

Jesus. Had that been a moment between you? If it was, he'd managed to fuck it up spectacularly. Before he can let the weight of his failures register, he knocks loudly on the door, and it opens for him immediately.

You’re welcomed in by Brendol’s staff—two men who begin helping you both out of your coats and scarves and gloves before ushering them away as quickly as they can manage, and you’re left standing in the entryway in your party clothes.

It looks just as he remembers it. The tree takes up most of the enormous room, reaching practically to the ceiling, the star perched at the top so high that Armitage has to crane his neck to take it in. The entire thing is dripping with lights and ornaments, each bow weighed down with gold and silver bobbles the circumference of his hand. The rest of the space is equally festive—decked in garlands and ribbons, although they’re a little more tasteful. That must have been Maratelle’s doing—Brendol wouldn’t bother with those; no one would see them as a status symbol, unlike the tree.

Armitage restrains himself from rolling his eyes.

He’s about to say something to you, maybe make a wry comment about the overwhelming smell of pine, but he stops. You’re staring at the decor, lips parted, with an expression that could only be described as wonder.

Armitage softens. Without the thought of past misery, without all the ire he holds for his father, it’s like The Nutcracker come to life. A winter fairytale—the kind that children dream about, and probably adults as well, although a little more privately. It must be, in your eyes, the makings of a perfect Christmas.

He wishes he could feel that way, too.

Any possibility of that is immediately dashed into pieces—Brendol and Maratelle have walked into the room.

Unlike the house, his father looks much worse than he remembers. Gaunt, with bloodshot eyes and dark creases beneath them, Brendol hides his sneer behind a sip from his whiskey glass, and it’s clearly not his first of the night, given the way his hand shakes. Something must have happened to put him in such a sour mood on his favorite event of the year. Maybe one of the staff addressed him and forgot to add “sir” at the end. Or maybe he’s just now realized he can’t spend the next two days humiliating Armitage for coming to Christmas alone, again.

“Father,” Armitage offers him the barest form of greeting he thinks he can get away with, ushering you forward. With both Brendol’s eyes and yours on him, it’s become difficult to think, despite all his planning. He’s not sure whose expectations he wants most to meet.

He settles on an awkward grab at your shoulder, pulling you a little closer and then hesitating when you stiffen, like an estranged relative has forced you into an unwanted hug.

You move past his embarrassing stumble after your initial hesitation, stepping close against his side with a self-conscious laugh, your torso nestled against his, and the smell of your perfume in the air. He tries to continue without incident, despite the sudden lightheadedness he feels.

“This is—”

You practically lunge at his father, shaking Brendol’s hand with a jittery vigor just as he stutters out your name. Brendol manages a not-overtly offensive grunt in response—either too drunk or too stunned to admonish you for the perceived offense. When his gaze flits back to Armitage, though, his jaw is tense with rage.

Oh god—he should have prepared you for this. He had plenty of opportunities—in the office, on the couch at his apartment, eating your first meals of the day together late into the night. It just . . . it had never felt right. They were holy places when he was with you, and inviting the thought of Brendol felt like sacrilege.

And he didn’t necessarily see it as a problem if his family thought you were a couple, even if he hadn't said the words out loud.

Maratelle is slightly more polite during her own introduction, shaking your hand and offering Armitage a small nod. There’s never been any love between himself and Maratelle, but they can at least commiserate in the fact that they’re both forced to put up with Brendol.

She attempts to make pleasant conversation, asking about the drive and the weather, but every word said is overshadowed by Brendol’s stern glare. Armitage ushers you away soon after that, not wanting to spend a single second in the same room as his father if he’s not being forced to do so.

“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god, oh my god,” you’re muttering the words under your breath, holding your face in both hands as he steers you towards the nearest waiter. Grabbing two glasses of champagne, he hands one to you, which you drink from immediately, staring at the ceiling like you’re hoping to be raptured, “I am so sorry.”

He almost chokes on his champagne, before righting himself, watching you incredulously. What could you be apologizing for?

“What?”

“I completely embarrassed you back there,” you respond, shifting your weight from foot to foot, looking anywhere but his eyes, “I was so nervous, and I wasn’t even thinking, and I just . . . I wanted them to like me.”

Your voice grows smaller with each word, and the sounds rattle around in Armitage’s brain, becoming more jumbled by the second, like someone has vigorously shaken a box of puzzle pieces.

“My father doesn’t like anyone.”

It’s not the best response he could come up with, considering what you just told him, but it is the truth. You do at least laugh, somewhat pulled from your worries, nudging him in the side with your arm.

“Come on, be serious! He must like you, at least a little.”

He’d never understand it—how sure you are that he’s worth something, just because you manage to tolerate his presence. You’ve come to his defense before, in the breakroom while the interns bitched about his behavior and none of them assumed he’d be walking by. It’s different, hearing this kind of praise outside the office, and to his face. It’s not just that you think he’s intelligent, or hard-working, or good at what he does. You think that he is good.

He’d take that over approval from Brendol any day.

Armitages offers you his arm; he should be introducing you to the rest of the guests, but he whispers one last assurance, hoping you’ll feel at ease.

“I’d be more worried if he did like you.”

There’s people in almost every room on the first floor, chatting cooly and filling up on hors d'oeuvres before the meal has even started. A few of the guests are family—distant cousins and such who strain to remember Armitage’s name—and old colleagues of Brendol’s. The overwhelming majority are Armitage’s former coworkers, still employed by his father at First Order Industries. The Christmas Eve dinner has been a tradition since Armitage’s childhood, and while most of the guests would probably prefer to spend this time in their own homes and with their families, they’re forced to be here—either too desperate for Brendol’s approval or too afraid of his displeasure.

No one is excited to see him. He’s not bothered by it—he hadn’t wanted to see any of them either. The mutual displeasure is almost as satisfying as the way their eyes go wide when they see you on his arm.

Dinner starts soon after that, just as he'd planned; he had hoped to arrive in time to avoid the majority of the socializing. You keep at his side, following his lead on the way to the expansive dinner table, overflowing with glittering china plates and delicate glassware.

It would be nice, under different circumstances, to be here with you. He’d be able to appreciate the way your lips curl up when he pulls your chair, or the soft weight of your hand on his arm when he sits down beside you. If this were some other party, he’d give you all of his attention, whispering in your ear and sharing smiles over dim candlelight, alone together in a sea of people.

While it’s not what he wants, the dinner isn’t overtly painful. Brendol is just out of range for polite conversation. Instead, you’re entertained through the courses, talking animatedly with the wives of Brendol’s business partners.

He’s certain they’re searching for gossip, excited to debrief over tea in the following weeks and dissect each and every minute gesture you’re making. You play the part beautifully, to your credit—recounting your stories animatedly, moments he had forgotten or passed by without much thought. They carry more weight told from your point of view; he almost believes it, too.

Praise falls generously from your lips as you describe the pro bono cases Armitage has taken on this year, and when his father scoffs; you don’t even stumble.

He wants to stare openly, but he restrains himself. How easily you’ve taken away Brendol’s power. You’ve reduced him to a petty, complaining drunk without a word, and it strikes Armitage in the chest: that’s all that he is.

Could it be possible that you’re right about him, as well?

The night grows long, and yawns are interspersed by bites of rich chocolate tart and sips of warm brandy. Your hand rests comfortably on his wrist, your fingers drawing calming shapes as you explore the landscape of his skin, and he decides finally that bringing you here might be the best idea he’s ever had.

“A room has already been made up for you,” Maratelle says to you, sitting stiffly in her chair, “It's in the guest wing of the house, I'm sure Armitage can show you after dinner—”

“Jesus Christ, Mara,” Brendol interrupts, finally drunk enough that not even the watching eyes of his guests can keep him quiet. “He’s a grown man, not a child. They can stay in his room. Save the maids the trouble of two sets of soiled sheets.”

Fucking hell. Armitage’s face bursts into flame, and Maratelle fumes silently, staring at her husband with wide eyes.

“That would be indecent, dear,” she seethes through clenched teeth, just barely managing to maintain her decorum. It’s the only thing that sustains her, in this god awful relationship. She’d rather be dead than divorced.

Brendol rolls his eyes, slamming his glass down on the table, ensuring that anyone on the other side of the room who may have missed the spectacle are now fully aware.

“My god, Mara, he has a place of his own now. It’s hardly uncommon for a man his age to share a bed with someone he’s seeing.”

It’s imperceptible to anyone but him—the glance Brendol sends him across the table, so quick he could almost pretend he’d imagined it, if he didn’t know better.

Damn him. There’s know way to tell how long Brendol had known that your whole relationship is a farce, but it doesn’t matter. He knows, and he’s determined to ruin his son over this little charade.

“I think,” Armitage speaks up, just barely keeping his anger at bay, “we might all be more comfortable with keeping the arrangements as they are. I wouldn’t want to overstep any boundaries.”

Maratelle sends him an appreciative nod, turning back to see what Brendol will say now that Armitage has sided with her. She doesn’t know any better; Armitage’s side is always the losing side when it comes to Brendol.

His father is about to speak again, smiling wickedly, living for the chance to toy with his son.

“Actually—” all three of their heads turn to you, hearing your interruption, and Armitage can scarcely breathe, “I think it would be a wonderful idea if we stayed together.”

Your eyes are only on him, fingers sliding between his own, and he’s sure he won’t live long enough to see how this all ends.

“Of course, if it’s alright with you.” You turn back to Brendol, waiting for his permission—his surrender. You’ve beaten him at the game he designed in his favor.

Brendol grits his teeth, fuming silently, but he nods, and the other guests slacken, grateful that the conflict is over.

Your fingers are still entwined and you give his hand a gentle squeeze of reassurance. He barely notices. All his thoughts are taken up by the knowledge that in no time at all, he’ll be laying in the darkness beside you. Alone.

He offers you a pathetic attempt at a smile and takes a long drink from his brandy glass, kept sane only by the thought that there will be an entire year’s worth of days before he has to spend Christmas with his father again.

That is, if he survives this one.

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[creweemmaeec11]

My favourite prompts:

A list of my favourite prompts that I’ve posted in the past, all curated into a huge list just for you guys!

1

Finally, the day has come. The villain is thought to be dead. The hero has won.

Until suddenly the hero learns the villain left them EVERYTHING in their will. Made them the owner and operator of all their illegal business.

Obviously, the hero plans to shut everything down immediately. But they quickly realize just how many people the villain employed… how many family’s they fed…

2

“You kissed me,”

“I did… and?”

“What-!? What do you mean and!?,”

“What more do you want?”

“An explanation would be a good start!”

“…or I could just do it again…”

*other person turns bright red,*

“Or… or that, I suppose,”

3

“What the hell are you doing here!?”

“I think the better question would be what in the hell are you wearing,” the villain replied, amusement clear on their face, like they were struggling to keep from laughing.

“What- it’s-” the hero blushed, remembering what they were wearing, “their pajamas! What are you-!”

“Oh my god…” the villain replied, like they were struggling to come to terms with what they were seeing, “the hero of the city not only own, but wears a onesie,”

“Excuse me!” The hero snapped in defence, “They’re comfortable!”

“They? You have more??”

4

“I gotta say hero,” The villain mused as they casually moved toward the cell bars, “I’ve been called many things in my life: monster, villain, outcast, loser, scoundrel,” they tilted their head, examining the hero before them, “but ‘our last hope?’” *clicks tongue* “that’s a first,”

5

You live in a world where anyone born with superpowers must become a super hero. It doesn’t matter what the power is, or how small it is, it is mandatory. It was deemed that having anyone with superpowers work alongside regular people was “unsafe” and “unfair.” Every year, dozens of superhero’s with powers useless for fighting are killed. You’ve managed to make it this long with nobody finding out you have a superpower. But how much longer can you hide in plain sight?

6

The city’s villain mysteriously disappears and hasnt been seen in a week. The people are celebrating, but the hero is worried. What if the villain is planning something big? Determined to stop whatever evil plan is brewing, the hero tracks the villain down, but they dont find what they expected. Instead of evil plotting, the villain:

-Has been taking care of a sick pet -Come down with the flu -Been helping arrange a friends wedding -Found out they were pregnant -Is getting married themselves -Mourning the death of a loved one -Has adopted a young pet and been occupied taking care of them -Has been helping one of their lackeys who’s in a desperate situation -Has been feeding the homeless and offering blankets

7

You’re the most wanted villain by all highest ranking authorities, but all the heros “just can’t seem to catch you” (they always let you get away) because all your crimes are things like stealing expensive medication and then donating it to hospitals, robbing toy stores and donating to orphanages, robbing banks and giving to charity, robbing grocery stores and feeding the homeless, ect

8

A hero/villain with the power to materialize their own tattoos. Got a wrench tattoo? Now you’ve got a wrench. Got a tattoo of wings? A bomb? A get away car? Well…

Dragon tattoos have always been popular, havent they?

9

Write about a genius inventor villain who, while watching the news, learns about a sick child in hospital doctors arnt sure they can cure. The villain realizes something theyve invented could cure the child. Now the hard part is convincing them to let the villain help.

10

The villain starts to notice the hero is feeling more down the usual, so they start leaving the hero little notes to cheer them up. All is going well until the hero figures out who is sending them.

11

In a world of magic users where everyone is divided into the 6 eye colours, and the colour of your eyes represents what your powers are. Each colour has an elemental power, can talk to a certain type of creature(Invertebrates, fish, amphibians, reptiles, birds, mammals), and has 3 other powers. For example, blue eyes control water, can commune with fish, etc. Everyone in the world has either red, orange, yellow, green, blue or purple eyes. Except for you, you were born with black eyes. Everyone is afraid of what your powers will be, but they should be more worried about the kind of creatures you can talk to…

12

A hero and a villain (and maybe their sidekicks, up to you) trapped in a haunted house or haunted location.  

-One is scared so the other comforts them. They are both scared but trying to act like they aren’t. -One doesn’t believe in ghosts, and the other has the power to communicate with them or see them. -Ghosts aren’t real, but one continues to try and freak the other out, who claims they aren’t scared. -Ghost wingman. I need’ d say no more -One gets possessed, so the other has to do the whole ‘kiss to break a curse’ thing to bring them out of it. -The classic Person A thinks ghosts aren’t real so they prank Person B to scare them. Then shit gets real, but person B doesn’t believe person A, thinking its just another prank.

13

“I trusted you! You promised!”

“I kept my promise! I got you your results! Don’t question my methods from a top that high moral horse or yours, especially when the only reason you made a deal with me in the first place was because you were too much of a coward to do what needed to be done!”

14

The local wildfire has been growing out of control, forcing the city to have to evacuate. Suddenly, the villain with water powers shows up to lend a hand to fire fighters.

15

“Tell me hero,” the villain spoke, chains jangling from where they hung on the villains wrists as they walked up to the bars of the jail cell, “If you wanted to skip a press conference, could you?”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re sisters getting married, but your needed for a big event at the hero academy that day. Would you be allowed to attend the wedding? What about if your brother stole a pack of gum. Could you let it slide? Not would you, but could you?”

The hero paused. Could they? They had responsibilities! They had commitments to the city, and to the serving of justice!

The villain laughed at the heros silence, “I may be in jail, but you’re more chained then I’ll ever be,”

16

“So tell me,” the villain drawled, dragging a finger across the heros skin, making them shiver, “what changed your mind?”

17

Hero discovers the villain has a day job. It isnt at all what they expected. (Day care, animal shelter, etc)

18

“What are you going to do if you beat me, and suddenly the city dosent need a hero? What are you going to do if you get hurt and can no longer fight, and the city forgets about you just like all the heros before you? Who will you be when your legacy crumbles under the weight of all those who follow? Will you take up knitting?”

The hero stared unblinking and frozen as the villain took a step forward.

“Sure, your a hero. But what are you without that?”

The villain took another step forward.

“Your nothing, heroism is all you have. That pathetic title you curl up to every night. But without it?” They looked the hero up and down, “Absolutely nothing…”

19

A villain retires from villainy and gets plastic surgery (or simply never showed their face) so they can live a normal life without being recognized. While living their new life, they bump into the hero, and the two start falling for eachother. But the villain is terrified of the hero finding out the truth

20

The hero slammed their front door as quickly as they could, eyes wide, heart pounding.

The villain. The villain was outside their door.

“Well that was rude,”

21

A hero with magic powers, in a world where magic is unheard of. They have always kept their powers a secret, fearing they would be shunned, or tested on. They never use their powers in battle.

One day, while practicing their magic alone in the woods, the villain appears out of nowhere. 

Before the hero can explain, the villain asks, “you have powers too?”

22

A hero dies. Or at least, they think they do. The next thing they know they wake up at their own funeral. And the only person there? Is the villain.

23

“The worst part, is you had the nerve to call it love”

[moral-turpitudes]

Silver Linings: Part 1

Masterlist | Rules | Peaky Prompts

A/N: Excuse any of my terrible math skills and if this seems rushed. This is the best I could come up with lol, I hope you all like it though!

Trigger Warnings: Swearing, Angst, Slight Fighting, Descriptions of Drug Use, Drinking, Familial Drama, Fluff, Mentions of Adoption, etc.

Word Count: 3,972

Characters: Alfie Solomons x Adopted Daughter!Reader + Michael Gray x Alfie’s Adopted Daughter!Reader

Summary: After growing tired of hiding, Y/N decides to venture out from the back of her fathers shop, not knowing she’d quite literally fall for one of her father’s enemies who happened to be lurking around the corner. But with tensions growing between the two families, one decision could change the course of their lives as they know it, for better and for worse.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | *Part 4* | Part 5

“Alright Y/N, now when you aim you gotta line yer eyes up with the sight. Take a deep breath, and on that exhale of yours yer gonna pull that little trigger right there.” Alfie said, the teenage girl only coming up to around his chest, her hands shaking slightly as she aimed the small hand gun for one of the flour sacks in the back of the shop. With a small exhale she fired, the bullet whirling through the air and into the target she’d helped draw on it the day before.

“See that’s not so hard innit?” He asked, smiling at the new light in his life.

Y/N heard her father calling for her upstairs, bringing her out of her daydreams from years ago. That was during the first week she’d lived with him after he adopted her from the nearby orphanage. She had no adoptive mother, and no other friends except their dog Cyril, seeing as she had to be practically hidden away on a daily basis. The only time she really went out was to work in her fathers shop, where she’d do her best to avoid being spotted by her fathers business partners-some of which who had strained relationships with him and his men.

Shaking the memory from her brain, she hesitantly walked up the stairs, the creaking of the wood announcing her arrival.

“There you are love. Listen...I’m having Mr. Shelby come by soon so you’ll have to work in the back alright? I know you’ll get me for it later but I’ll make up for it mmkay?” He said, looking his now 21 year old daughter in the eyes. People often found him intimidating, but over the years she grew used to him, knowing deep down he was a sweet person. With every interaction she observed, she could see the pain in his eyes over not being able to really introduce her, knowing it would put her at risk. But deep down there was a mutual understanding between them that it was going to be inevitable that someone would find out, but neither of them thought it would be so soon.

With a sigh, she reluctantly walked towards the back where the other “bakers” worked the ovens and inspected shipments. While she organized bricks of cocaine for shipment, she felt her stomach drop as she realized she’d left her gloves in the front of the shop. She often hated the texture of the bricks as she packed them away, the fabric gloves being her only solace when she was given the task.

Swallowing hard, she nervously crept around the corner, eyeing Thomas Shelby and some of the other blinders in her fathers office as she continued, not noticing the man she collided with as she stumbled back slightly.

“Oi! I’m so sorry sir...wasn’t even fuckin’ looking.” She said, brushing a stray hair from her face and tightening her apron around her waist.

“No problem love, you alright?” He asked, looking concerned as he adjusted his well tailored suit.

“Y-yeah. Just looking for my gloves. I have to go.” She said, knowing she wasn’t supposed to be out for long while the blinders were there, yet trying to not look the dashing man in the eyes.

As she walked away, his eyes followed her to her station where she usually rolled dough and decorated pastries, grabbing her gloves which were tinted white from the previous cocaine shipment she handled earlier in the morning.

“Hey...miss? Before you go...what’s your name?” He asked, a crooked smile spreading across his features as she neared him.

“Uhm...it’s Y/N. What’s yours? You don’t look like you’re from ‘round here.” She said.

“I’m Michael, Michael Gray. I’m with the blinders.” He said.

“Oh....um, well I have to get going. It was nice meeting you...Michael.” She said, awkwardly putting on the gloves as he recognized the powder falling off them.

“What do you around here anyway? I know that’s not flour on those gloves.” He said with a smirk. She swallowed hard before answering, her eyes flicking to the window of her fathers office.

“Um...I bake, and...I organize things. Listen...I really do have to go. I’ll see you ‘round sometime, yeah?” She asked. He followed her gaze to the window, noticing the nervous look on her face.

“Alright. See you around, Y/N.” He said with a wink, walking back to his lookout spot in the corner.

She smirked slightly as she passed him, reluctantly heading straight to the back, the other workers paying her no mind as she resumed packing the bricks.

As she worked, she could hear shouts coming from her fathers office, her stomach tightening in knots at the tension she could see forming in the room. Thomas and him standing close to each other, most likely mumbling threats under their breaths. A few moments later, she saw the men exit the tattered room, putting their razored caps on and storming out the door. Michael ultimately leaving with them, but catching her staring as he looked back towards the room she was in. She smiled lightly as he smirked, shutting the door behind him.

She shook her head as she turned back, getting the rest of her packing done while shaking away the thought of someone like him ever taking an interest. She knew her father dealt in dangerous business, so she wasn’t afraid of the blinders and her father doing business necessarily, but she couldn’t deny that them feuding terrified her, knowing even one slip-up could put her or her father at risk. Blowing their years-long cover.

As she was lost in thought, Alfie walked down after they left, smiling as he grabbed a bottle of rum from one of the crates and locking it back.

“You don’t have to organize all those love. How about we go call it a day aye? I know you’re probably wanting summing’ because your old man made ya work back ‘ere all day.” He said. His words annoying to her ears as of late as she grew bored of her life at the shop and at home. One question forever buzzing in the back of her mind as she continued her monotonous tasks.

“I was wondering something....” She said, taking her gloves off and turning towards him.

“Yeah? Wondering about work or what? I’m all ears now you know.” He said, taking a swig from the bottle in his hand.

Her stomach tightened again as she looked her loving, yet over-protective father in the eyes.

“I was uh...wondering how you would feel if I moved out?” She asked, the thought barely working its way through her anxious mind before spewing out of her mouth.

“What?” He asked, his eyes squinting as he cocked his head to the side.

“I-I just think since I’m an adult now, I’d like to have a place of my own. That way I won’t come between ya and the business as much. I’m tired of hiding, dad.” She said, throwing the gloves on the table as she sat next to him.

“What devils gotten into your bones? Have you been sniffing the snow or drinking me rum?” He asked.

“No dad....I just...I just want to be more independent that’s all.” She said.

“I’ll tell ya what...if you pack the snow for the next month I’ll up your pay so you can get you a place. I’ll chip in some too but getting it on your own will be good for ya. I taught you to shoot but I didn’t teach ya about life aye?” He said.

“No not really. But spare me the lectures. Let’s get home. I’m starving.” She said.

“Alright. Let’s get on with it then.” He said, walking with his cane as they made their way to the car.

As the next few weeks passed, she found herself going into work with a smile. Knowing she’d get to work towards her own place, and for the chance to see the dapper blinder who’d been making regular appearances lately, and to her surprise, for more than business reasons.

He’d been sent by Thomas to crunch numbers and talk bets with Alfie, knowing that he was sent to handle more of the legitimate business than the illegal stuff.

But if Y/N learned anything throughout her years, it was knowing when to make herself known.

She waited until Alfie closed his office door, watching Michael walk down the creaky steps as she did a small whistle.

He turned around and grinned, walking towards her, as was becoming their habit recently.

“Y/N, didn’t think you were here, love. Must’ve been in the back again aye?” He asked, quietly. She nodded and led him to one of the women’s lavatories.

“W-why are we in here? I haven’t even taken you on a date.” He asked, a mischievous grin on his lips.

“Shh. There’s no other place right now for us to go. I haven’t told him.” She said.

“Told who?” He asked.

“My-my father. Alfie.” She said, nervously biting her lip as she removed her hand from his. Crossing her arms over her chest.

“Wait...your father is Alfie fucking Solomons?” He asked, his face hardening at the fact. His usual happy demeanor fading.

“Well, adoptive father. He uh adopted me when I was 16 from an orphanage ’round here. He wanted to protect me...from uh...people like you. I guess he’s had some bad history with the blinders and other groups so I’ve been most my life, just working here to pass the time.” She said.

“People like me? What...are you afraid of me?” He asked.

“What? No! I’ve been around dangerous men all my life. I’m just saying that your blinder cousins may not take a liking to me and neither will my father to you. I just have a bad feeling about it.” She said.

“So...what are we to do? Fucking talk in the bathroom every week or what?” He asked, a small smirk playing at his lips.

“We’ll do what I do best. We’ll have to hide.” She said. He looked at her with a confused expression as he put his hand on her hips.

“I get off at 4pm and my father won’t be home until late at night. I usually go straight home, but meet me at the warehouse later around 7pm, yeah?” She asked, seeing him smirk.

“Michael I’m deadly serious. If Thomas or my father finds out we’re as good as dead.” She said.

“Fine...I’ll meet you, but I want you to bring some of the snow. Can you sneak it out?” He asked.

“Yeah. Alright, now go, the workers are coming down the hall.” She said, hearing the plethora of Alfie’s men stomping down the dark hall, making it easier for Michael to slip out un-noticed.

“See you then, Y/N.” He said, pecking her cheek before he left.

She rubbed the spot, her cheeks flushing at the brief contact.

“Y/N?” Alfie’s voice rang from the hall, making her heart race as she thought of all the reasons he could be asking for her, internally praying that it wasn’t because he caught Michael leaving.

“Yeah dad?” She asked, quickly stepping out of the restroom.

“Thought ya ran off love. I was just gonna remind ya I’m working late again.” He said.

“Alright, how many nights are you working late?” She asked.

“Well, probably every day for this month. Thomas and the rest of his blinders are damn near making me lose me mind.” He said.

“Oh...ok. Well I’ll keep an eye on Cyril then. Is it ok if I go out to the shops later? Been wanting to stock up for the new place, for whenever I get it.” She said.

“I mean I’m not going to be there so I can’t stop ya can’t I? You can but remember your gun and that knife. You remember how to use it aye?” He asked.

“Yes dad, I can’t really forget stabbing a man for you, nor can I forget putting a bullet through his head.” She said, shivering slightly at the memory of when things got tense at the shop with a disgruntled employee. Alfie had beaten the man unconscious and dragged the man to the back, telling her that it would be good practice. And it was, but after it was done, she vowed to herself that she’d never use such weapons unless she had to.

“Right, well I have to go deal with some business. I’ll let you off at 4 like usual alright?” He asked.

“Okay, thanks dad. I’ll see you...I guess tomorrow depending on how late you get in.” She said giving him a hug before walking back to her station.

The last few hours dragged on as she reminisced over the past couple of weeks. Her heart skipped a beat thinking about how they’d secretly talk and make out behind the shop where her dad couldn’t see, and how on days like today she had to drag him into the restroom as her heart beat out of her chest at the rebelliousness of it all. It was nothing compared to what she planned to get away with tonight, and for hopefully weeks to come, but it was a small step towards her independence, even if they had to hide their relationship from the world.

As the clock struck 4 she headed towards the back of the building, snagging a bottle of rum from an opened crate and replacing it with one that had just came off the line for the night. Shoving the bottle in her purse as she grabbed a rather small brick of cocaine, it being one of the various runts in the pile they’d received that day.

With quick steps, she went out the door and down to the car that was waiting for her. The purse growing slightly heavy as she continued on. Her father didn’t want her walking home alone of course, and so he arranged for one of his men to routinely take her home, ultimately becoming a blessing and a curse for her independence she was so desperately trying to achieve.

“Hello Tim, I have an odd request today.” She said, counting the huge wad of cash in her purse she’d managed to save up well before asking about apartments

“What’s that Ms.Solomons?” He asked, hid old face wrinkling with a smile.

“Can we stop by the housing department? I’ve had my eye on an apartment for a few weeks. Don’t worry though, I’ve already gotten my fathers approval.” She said, pulling off her biggest lie yet.

“Alright, after that do you wish to go home? He asked.

“Yes please.” She said, watching as the streets zipped by.

Once at the housing department, she told the landlord where she’d like to stay and she followed her to the requested location. Her eyes lit up as she saw the rather grand place. It was just close enough that her father needn’t worry too much while also being just enough of a distance away from the shops she loved going to. It was a rather safe area given the town and her fathers plethora of men protecting her, but she enjoyed the new sense of independence as she gave the woman a cash deposit, along with enough for the years rent.

The woman’s eyes lit up as she saw the amount of cash, Y/N rather un-phased given her fathers business.

“Are you sure Ms.? This is so much in advance.” She said.

“Yes. When shall I move in?” She asked. Checking her watch and seeing it was just after 5pm.

“Oh I’d say ‘round any time next week. Here’s your key, just drop by before you begin moving in.” She said with a smile as she got in her car and left.

“Alright Tim, I’m ready to go home.” She said, a satisfied smile on her face.

“I’m impressed. You got this place yourself? Alfie must be proud.” He said.

“Mhmm.” Y/N said, nervously fidgeting with her hands as she remembered the lie. He’d have her neck if he knew she’d already bought the place earlier than he would’ve liked. But what could it hurt?

The minutes passed rather quickly as she was dropped off at her house, walking inside to see Cyril’s tail wagging as she came through the front door. The house was dimly lit and quiet, just as she’d left it that morning. She played with him and made sure his water bowl was filled, seeing as the maid would help feed him later, but she still loved helping wherever she could.

“Ms. Y/N, I have your dress ready. I’ll feed the dog later and make sure the house is kept before leaving. I hope you enjoy your date.” The older woman said, a genuine smile on her face.

“Thank you so much. I can’t tell you how much you’ve helped me these last few weeks. Here.” She said, giving her a few slips of cash from her purse.

“Just as a thank you. I’ll be moving in next week to my apartment. Dad doesn’t know though so I’d appreciate it if you didn’t tell him.” She said.

The maids eyes widened at the cash in her hand, agreeing with a small smile and a quick nod before returning to her duties. As much as she loved this house, she wanted to do things on her own terms. She wanted to meet people on her own terms, and finally not hide herself. To make more friends than just the maid. To start actually living.

With an excited smile she ran up the stairs, putting the casual dress on and doing her makeup, deciding to leave her hair as-is, then anxiously making her way outside. The purses weight tugging at her shoulder as she walked down the quiet streets, her gun in her purse and her small knife in hand.

Once she neared the warehouse, she sat around the back, taking a swig of the rum before Michael got there to calm her nerves.

She watched the sun set over Camden Town, the birds songs ending as the insects buzzed about, the air turning a bit colder as she looked at her watch. It was just after 7pm, her heart sinking in her chest as she thought he’d stood her up. But after a few moments, she heard footsteps, making her panic slightly not knowing who was behind them. She carefully drew her gun, aiming at the man as he walked closer, his hands soon up in surrender.

“Y/N? It’s me. Michael.” He said, a smirk on his face, lowering his hands.

“I figured you were ‘round back, didn’t think you’d try to shoot me though.” He said.

“Sorry. You never know out here.” She said, putting her gun away and retrieving the cocaine and rum.

“You carried all that here? I’m impressed.” He said, inspecting the cocaine as she opened the bottle, taking another swig from it. She cringed internally as the liquid burned her throat. She’d only drank a few times, not to any huge extent, but now that she was older and more capable, she figured she at least could drink how she pleased.

“How’d you score this rum?” He asked, taking a swig from the bottle as well.

“I stole it from my dads stash in the back. And that coke is one of the runts of the batch, it was too small to pack in the big crates. Figured I’d bring the whole thing since you seemed to know about it a couple weeks ago.” She said, smirking at the memory of their first awkward meeting.

“Have you tried it?” He asked, leaning back against the wall of the warehouse.

“No.” She said turning away from his gaze as she nervously brushed a strand of hair behind her ear.

“It’s easy. Watch.” He said, unwrapping it and shaving off a sliver of the white substance with her knife. He sat it on top of the brick and made sure it was all crushed, forming it in a straight line.

He handed her the brick carefully as she held it up towards his face, him inhaling the powder through his nose in one fell swoop.

“You want me to shove that shit up my nose? Are you mad?” She asked, giggling as she took another swig from the rum.

“Yeah. Can’t hide from everything love.” He said, his words hitting home probably more than he realized.

“Alright, if I die, my fathers gonna have your head on a spike.” She said.

“That’s a risk I’m willing to take.” He said, preparing a smaller amount of the drug and holding it up to where she could inhale it through her nose. Her nostril burned as she did so, the foreign particles lacing their way through her system.

She laughed and shook her head, wiping her nose of any excess powder as she looked up at Michael who was chuckling slightly.

“That was so odd. I’m not doing that again. Not right now anyway.” She said, handing him the bottle of rum as she curled up next to him. It had only been about a month since they’d met, but even then, their interactions became more frequent.

Over the next few weeks, it was as if they’d known each other for years the way they got on. His aunt Polly eventually seeing a spark in his eye that wasn’t there before, and the same went for Alfie.

“You’ve met someone. I can tell.” Polly said one night, catching him coming in drunk on more than one occasion.

“Yeah I did. Tommy can’t do anything about it. It’s not his concern so don’t go telling him.” He said as he stumbled into the house.

As Michael grappled with the weight of seeing an adversaries daughter, Y/N had gradually moved things into her apartment with the help of her driver, all under her fathers nose. But she knew that once her room was more vacant, he’d catch on. Knowing if the blinders didn’t anger him enough, her leaving suddenly surely would.

One night after a drunken date with her mystery boyfriend, Alfie confronted her. Holding the small brick they’d chipped away at over the previous weeks.

“Oi! You wanna explain this? No daughter of mine is going to be sneaking drugs in me house. Do you really think I’m dumb? Cuz I guarantee you I’m not. This can’t happen. Not under my roof.” He said, lighting his cigar.

“Well if you didn’t want to pack it anyway I thought I might as well put it to good use. But uh, I’ll be sneaking it under me own roof from now on. I’ve bought a place if you couldn’t already tell from barging in my room to find that.” She said, folding her arms like she often did when she was frustrated.

Alfie stepped closer to her, his eyes not leaving hers as she barely flinched.

“I’ll find out who you’re doing all this for. Once I do, you’ll wish ya never stole a thing.” He said, walking towards his chair he usually sat on in their grand living room.

Y/N shook her head and chuckled to herself, stomping off towards her room. Her mind raced as she thought about what to do, grabbing what was left of her clothes and hurling them into her suitcases, deciding to leave the house for good in the morning.

Alfie sighed and sat back in his chair as he heard Y/N rummaging around upstairs. The sweet girl he helped raise all of a sudden wanting to leave the nest. 

It seemed like everything was fine in their lives until the peaky fucking blinders waltzed into his shop. Not caring who they destroyed as long as they got their money, their rum, or their drugs.

[hops-hunny]

Oops

Pairing: Ron x Reader

Pronouns: He/Him

Word Count: 2.2k

Request: anon w/ “HI FIRST OF ALL, CONGRATULATIONS ON YOUR 300! YOU DESERVE IT SO MUCH. can I request a ron x male reader for your celebration please? (maybe where the twins play a prank on ron putting verasitasium in his drink and that leads him confessing to the reader? you can totally ignore the idea tho, friends to lovers maybe? With prompt: “Haha, just kidding! Unless?” “maybe add the prompts: “He can bust me open like a can of biscuits.” “You can count on me to get on my knees for you.” ”

Summary: Who knew fizzy drinks could create steamy conversations?

Warnings: fluff, mentions of underage drinking (one line), and 2 sexual jokes.

A/N: I changed up the idea a bit but not too much! Hope you enjoy anon

24."You can count on me to get on my knees for you."

41.“He could bust me open like a can of biscuits.”

44.“Haha, just kidding! Unless?”

Ron wouldn’t admit it, but he was completely in love with his best friend (Y/n). The way the boy would subconsciously fix up Ron’s hair or clothes, the way he’d get whiny when he was tired, hell even his stupid jokes. (Y/n) had Ron ron eating right out of the palm of his hand. And if you knew Ron, this wasn’t something that was hard to tell. Everyone noticed the way the brutish boy would act whenever the boy was around. The way his voice would drop an octave, the way he’d speak a shit ton louder, even down to the way he always made sure he was the loudest one laughing at the (y/h/h) boy’s jokes. It wasn’t hard to put two and two together but for some reason it was for Ron.

Well it wasn’t that it was hard for him to admit it, he knew who he was and what he liked. It was more so hard for him to admit it to (Y/n) himself. Anytime he’d get even close to it, he’d end up changing what he was going to say last minute. It was like a tradition at this point. Even though Ron wouldn’t grow the balls and confess, he was still relatively jealous of the boy and who he hung around. He found himself getting upset or being short with him which didn’t last for long. (Y/n) was just too sweet. Even though the boy didn’t suspect that his friend's behavior was more than platonic, he’d still reassure him the same every time. Just like what was taking place currently.

Ron, Harry, Fred, George, Ginny, and (Y/n) all sat in the common room talking about anything they could wrap their minds around. However, (Y/n) and Ron were having their own conversation. (Y/n) reached a hand forward, tilting Ron’s face towards him. “It’s okay to be upset, Ron. But I just want you to know that I love you and nothing will ever change that.” he said as he gave him a soft smile. Ron choked a bit, clearing his throat as he looked away, face a bright crimson. He knew the boy’s words were strictly platonic but the flutter that took place in his heart didn’t care. “How bout we spend more time together? I know we’ve both been busy but I’ll never be too busy for you. You’re my best friend, my little ickle Ronniekins.” he teased, laughing as he picked at Ron’s cheek a bit. Ron rolled his eyes swatting his hand off his face, giving him the same dopey smile he always did. (Y/n) looked down at the watch on his wrist before he gasped. “Oh dear! I’m late for my study group. Me, you, common room this friday!” He said as he began to run off. “Don’t be late either! You usually are!”

Fred had a mischievous look on his face as he watched his lovesick brother make those same eyes he always did when the boy would take off. “You’re in deep aren’t you? When’s the last time you had a thought that wasn’t about (Y/n)?” he teased, poking his brother’s flaming cheek. Ron glared up at him angrily as he let out a scoff.

“Oh bugger off, will you? I’m not ‘in deep’. I just think he’s cute.” he pouted, crossing his arms defensively as he looked away from the group.

“Right, cause nothing screams ‘just find him cute’ like carrying his things to class, getting jealous when other people ask him out, and dropping any preexisting plans to hang out with him for even just 5 minutes. Do you realize how stupid you sound?” Ginny said, snickering some as she rolled her eyes at her thick headed brother.

“She’s got a point. Why don’t you just tell him? It’s very clear he feels the same way about you.” Harry said with a shrug.

“They’re right you know. I don’t know anyone else who would put up with your little fits of anger. If you got pissy with me like you did him I definitely would have punched you in the face by now.” George said, standing to sit on the other side of Ron. “Or maybe...you need some help from your big brothers?”

Ron felt his eyes widen in horror. Help from Fred and George never just meant help. Their version of help somehow always managed to be the exact opposite. If their ‘help’ and the actual meaning of the word help were countries, they’d be on different sides of the world. “No, absolutely not. Don’t say anything to him or I’ll tell mum.” Ron began to gather his things, heading off in the direction of his own dorm. As he got further away Fred and George gave each other a knowing smile.

“G-guys whatever you’re thinking, it’s probably not a good idea. I’m sure Ron will come around on his own time. Sure it may take him ages but just think of how proud of himself he’ll be when the time comes.” he spoke, trying to reason with the two. Fred stood up ruffling the mop of brown on top of Harry’s head.

“Oh don’t worry, golden boy. Ron told us not to say anything and we won’t.” he said, shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly.

“However just because we can’t say anything doesn’t mean he can’t either.” George stood up walking in the direction of Snape’s room. “Come on Freddie! We’ve gotta get a move on if we want everything to go to plan!”

As the two walked off, Ginny and Harry shared a look of confusion. Never in all the time they knew the two were they quick to give up just because someone asked them to. Harry’s eyes widened at the conversation that had just played out. What did they mean by ‘just because we can’t doesn’t mean he can’t either.’? ‘No it couldn’t be. That would be ridiculous!’ He had formed his own suspicions on what they had meant but only time could tell if he was correct.

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

As Friday came around, Ron found himself relieved that his brother’s had stuck to their word. All week he spent being on edge, skitting frantically around his identical buffoons. However, he was still nervous. On top of them not doing anything to jeopardize his friendship with the (h/c) haired boy, he hadn’t seen much of them at all. Wait, when was the last time he had seen them? He felt his heart racing at the revelation. He hadn’t seen them since Sunday of last week when they had the conversation that had been on his mind all week. He liked (Y/n), he liked him a lot. Was it such a ridiculous idea to believe that the (y/h/h) boy harbored feelings for him to?

He sighed, sitting down on the common room couch. He had arrived early- 45 minutes to be precise giving him a lot of time to think things through. It wasn’t  that Ron thought of himself as an awful person, it’s just that he saw (Y/n) as perfect. There wasn’t a single person in the castle that didn’t like him. He often gave up his free time to help the students in lower years with their work, cleaned up all 4 of the common rooms, and even offered professor Snape his time to help him clean out the cauldrons at the end of the day. He had a heart of gold paired with a face of diamond. How was he supposed to keep up with that?

“Hey there dear brother of ours!” George called out as the approached their younger brother. Ron rolled his eyes as he threw his head back in exasperation. “Listen, we wanted to help you out.” he started, looking over at Fred.

“Yeah we feel bad about the other day so we bought you these.” he said, tossing him two bottles of soda. He eyed it suspiciously looking at the label of the strawberry cream soda. (Y/n)’s favorite. “We thought you could use some drinks!”

“What’s the catch?” he questioned, setting them down on the table.

“The catch is there isn’t one! Maybe if you give it to (Y/n), it’ll show that those big ears of yours actually do listen.” George teased. Ron brought a hand to his ear, glaring at his brother. His ears weren’t big. “Well, it looks like he’s coming so we better run!” 

Ron looked up at the sound of approaching footsteps, watching as the boy ran towards him with a large smile. He couldn’t help but smile back grunting when the boy threw himself in his arms. Ron blushed brightly, wrapping his arms around him to reciprocate the hug. “I missed you.” he mumbled into the taller boy’s chest. Ron cleared his throat, petting the top of the boys head.

“Missed you too, love. So, uh,” he pulled himself back from the boy’s embrace scooting away some. He didn’t seem to notice him deflate as he continued on, “What did you have planned?” he asked him. (Y/n) pondered it for a bit, humming as he bit his lip to think. The ginger boy couldn’t help to admire how cute he was, face upturned in concentration.

“I was thinking we could play the questions game! Whoever has the most fingers down by the end is the loser and has to do whatever the winner says!” He grinned before turning his attention to the objects on the table. His eyes lit up brightly at the sight of his favorite drink. “You remembered?” he said breathlessly, looking at his Gryffindor counterpart.

“Of course, how could I forget? It’s practically all you’ve drank since second year.” he chuckled some, as they opened their bottles in sync. They clinked their drinks together, linking pinkies. It was a tradition they had started, their own little version of a cheer. Ron grimaced some as he took a sip of the liquid, finding it was far sweeter than he remembered. ‘Strange. I just had some last week.’ he thought to himself before shrugging. It was probably just his imagination. 

“Okay, okay I’ll go first.” (Y/n) started. “What’s the most embarrassing thing you’ve ever done?” he asked. Ron most definitely didn’t wanna answer that. He went to put his finger down but realized his mouth was already moving.

“Last week when I was drunk I pissed my pants. When I tried to get out of them I ended up slipping in my own piss and instead of getting up I just laid there crying until Harry came to help me.” he said briskly. (Y/n) began to laugh. Ron covered his mouth. What was going on? He didn’t wanna say that to anyone let alone the guy he had feelings for! He’d get him back. “What’s on your mind right now?”

“You. I’d let you bust me open like a can of biscuits.” (Y/n) gasped when he was finished, quickly clamping a hand over his mouth. Ron stared back at him, his mouth agape. He couldn’t believe what he had just heard! But before he could dwell on it any longer, the same feeling as before came back.

“You can count on me to get on my knees for you.” he squeaked, jumping back from the boy. What was he doing?! He had to think quickly. “Haha! Just kidding.” he tried to play it off before he opened his gab again. “Unless?” well there was no saving it now. Both of them had completely revealed themselves to each other.

“Did we just-”

“I think we did.” they both sat in silence, replaying the conversation over and over in their  heads. They both jumped as they heard a pair of hands clapping combined with two sets of laughter. Ron whipped his head the other direction, spotting the two culprits.

“That was quite the show! I was expecting just a bit of an awkward confession from Ronniekins here but it seems like (Y/n) had a secret of his own!” Fred wheezed, standing in front of the pair.

“H-how? What was that? Tell me now!” Ron growled angrily, staring at the twins. Fred picked up a bottle of the soda swirling it around in his hand.

“I thought your soda would taste better with a little bit of veritasium in it. Totally slipped my mind what kind of effect it had on people. My fault dear brother of mine!” Fred cooed sarcastically, laughing as he sat the bottle back on the table. “Well, we’ll leave you two to it. For real this time.” the twins began to make their departure down the hall, fist bumping at their accomplishment. Ron stood up, checking the room to make sure they were actually gone this time before turning to (Y/n).

“Well, uh, since that just happened,” he looked away from the boy as another wave of heat made its way onto his cheeks, “Do you wanna go out with me maybe? I-I understand if-” he was cut short as his friend stood on the tip of his feet, placing a soft kiss on his own freckled cheek. (Y/n) wrapped his arms around the boy before looking up at him.

“I’d love to.”

[liaisun]

I am begging u tell me more about the streamer bfs au

HELLO KICKS :D thank u 4 asking <3 i ended up scrolling back thru a gazillion messages but it was absolutely worth it. please allow me 2 present the babes

streamer bfs is a very self indulgent kandreil au, pure fluff absolutely 0 plot in here. they live in a Streamer Content House™ with the other foxes. kandrew r dating and neil is in a queer platonic relationship w them !! there's two parts of it right now, the first being just streaming shenanigans and interactions and then further actual relationship development with neil :]

SO BACKSTORY !! we have andrew: a complete weirdo but likeable abt it? just a chill dude doing his own thing while gaming. sometimes he codes too (here is a beloved fic with absolutely feral robot maker/youtuber!drew). his channel name is nyandrew, it never gets Big big but its stable enough that andrew can do it for fun. he has The Cat Ear Headphones which he never acknowledges the existence of but still wears every single stream. king knocked over his camera once and that 10 second clip became his channel trailer forevermore

there's always someone in the back of his streams just . sleeping?  it's kinda hard to see, no one knows who it is and andrew never addresses it so everyone just accepts it as another quirk of his lives... until one day andrew streams earlier than normal and halfway through the door creaks open and they hear "...babe? i couldn't-- oh. can i come in" cue absolute CHAOS within the chat bc WHO IS THIS !!!!

this person is the one and only kevin day. he's a college student but lives at the house and usually pops up in the other's vids. he was helping dan (who started this whole operation) with moving in. that day he hung out with the foxes, who convinced him to stay for their first day sleepover celebration and then he never left :]

neil is a faceless streamer and a generally funky dude . he started out with silent walkthroughs/speedruns of puzzle games, and now he plays whatever while keeping up the most bizarre and unrelated commentary. he also runs the foxes' podcast. his 'quiplash/jackbox with friends' vids (prompt game where everyone votes on their fav answer) are his most popular because he always has the most brutal and funny answers and he's in top 3 every single time

he only shows up on camera in the other's streams as a hand or legs but once a week MINIMUM the mysterious neil comes into andrew's room and says "release the roombas" and then u hear meowing (this is also where the channel trailer comes from)

kev's always sleeping on lives because andrew streams at 2am (insomnia things)... kev has night terrors and sleeps better with someone else in the room, but andrew can't really sleep with another person on the bed so this system works 4 them

there's this mythical clip of neil coming in and like collapsing on top of kevin sleeping on the floor. they say something 2 each other and neil laughs and then leaves AND IT HAS TORN THE INTERNET APART FOR YEARRSSSSS nyandrew's biggest career drama is nobody knows what's happening between them

andrew is also generally such a gremlin about answering questions u will never get a straight answer from this man ever . and on this topic he is the Worst. (referring 2 kevin) "who's ur friend?" he's not my friend.   "okay. what's the name of the man in the room with you?" very funny guys. that prank won't work there is no one behind me . "u said u were an only child" i never said that. i said i grew up an only child    and so on

people make compilations like "andrew minyard (nyandrew) holding his bf for 10 mins straight (ft. neil)" [in which neil also holds said bf and chat exploded] "andrew ignoring chat for 5 mins straight" "5 minutes of nyandrew lifting anything but weights (ft. his bf)"

there's also my personal fav "nyandrew (ñandrew) cursing in spanish for 2 mins straight" yes andrew speaks spanish. the clips are from a stream he did with nicky and when nicky tries 2 mention an embarrassing moment andrew says "ah tienes cojones... él tiene cojones sí mi gente" (you have some balls.. he's got balls right guys) and nicky goes quiet SO QUICK KSJSKDKF. andrew's not Family Friendly but he definitely doesn't curse in english/express himself like he will in spanish (2nd language emotional things<3) and chat is FLOORED

this vid at (6:50-7:50) is drunk kev professing his love then saying "okay let's go :]" trying 2 get them all 2 cuddle and andreil are like  . Kevin We Are On Live Right Now. + from 3:00-6:50 is them describing each fox in one word and trying 2 match answers but kevneil start arguing about their answers and andrew purposefully says different ones to rile them up

when neil actually sticks around in a live - he's wearing a hoodie with the strings taut so it covers his face mostly. kev's passed out on andrew, andreil r bantering and flirting. andrew's like "i gotta go to the bathroom" and he just. hoists kevin up and puts him in neil's lap instead and NONE OF THEM BLINK and kev just curls a hand in neil's hoodie, looks up at him and hes like *squints* "ur hiding?" in a sleepy tone and neil's like ":] u don't like the look?" when andrew comes back he brushes neil's neck and all 3 of them keep casually talking LIKE NOTHING HAPPENED and chat is literally unreadable. it is going insane

in regards 2 ur post about lap sitting these 3 are EXACTLY like this tiktok. *caresses head* "can u stay for one game..." like !!!!!!!!!!!! i am gone i am deceased... it is them. kevin is the main lap stealer between them (imagining kev's 6'1 self curling into a ball 2 fit in the chair with either of them. sparks joy) and he is super clingy while andreil have little gestures like neil slinging his legs over andrew's on the couch. he sits upside down and andrew steadies him when neil starts to slide off. neil tries to go for a run at like 5am after staying up all night and andrew catches him in the kitchen, all bleary after a live and shoves him into a beanbag. (if he sits on top of him to make him stay and they have an intense mental conversation with unwavering eye contact then nobody's around to prove it)

at the end of the day (night? morning? what is time to them) they're tired and the walls and online personas are down. they stay up talking or sitting in silence, all squished together on a mattress or sprawled around the tv or listening to low music in the car.

and lastly, first kiss things:

[oftenderweapons]

Apple Of My Pie (7) — Jin

A Small Town Swoons story 

Chapter 7. 

Pairing: Kim Seokjin x reader (nicknamed Buttercup)

Wordcount: 7.1k words

Genre: non-idol!AU, Baker/Café owner!Seokjin, University student!reader Flatmates!AU, Friends To Lovers, Fluff, slightest angst, smut

Rating: 18+ (NSFW content)

A/N: Hello my sweet poppies! Welcome to the Small Town Swoon Universe! 🥰✨

In this episode: Jin and Buttercup finally reunite, and although the real world tries to interrupt their small idyll, Seokjin has the strength to finally impose his needs and confess his feelings. The evening proceeds in the best of ways.

As I mentioned before, this episode made me write things I didn’t know I had in me. Also, this will be the final episode for their storyline, however you will see more of Jin and Buttercup on future stories, mostly in small apparitions here and there. I might come back to this story someday, maybe with some drabbles or some small headcanons, however, I think that now it’s time to let Jin and Buttercup live their special moments with in their own privacy and make up for lost time.

TRIGGER WARNINGS: this is filthy. There’s swearing and light alcohol consumption (wine at dinner, both are pretty sober afterwards). Now, about the filth. Degradation kink, breast worship (involves kissing, licking, biting, grabbing), breast slapping, nipple pinching, one (1) spank, foodplay involving ice cream (so mild temperature play), dom!Seokjin, slightly bratty!reader, grinding, masturbation (both male and female receiving), brief mention of oral (male receiving), cumplay, cumeating, creampie, unprotected sex (please don’t do like them. The right way to go about this would be to use condoms and/or dental dams until you and your partner get the results of the test and are 110% sure you’re clean. If you have any questions, please head to Planned Parenthood’s website, they have wonderful webpages about safe, sane and consensual sex, plus anything you need to keep your sexual health in check. If you can’t check their website, please feel welcome to reach out to me through DMs, I’ll try to help 🥰💜). Also reader is kind of excited about Seokjin being circumcised? And these two have a latent impregnation kink that will show up someday. There are slightly angst discussion about past partners and feelings, but nothing extreme.

Remember to vote for next prompt (check the link in my bio) and in case you need it, here’s my masterlist 💜

In case you need it, here is the music companion

Enjoy ✨💜

Navi: Chapter 1 — Chapter 2 — Chapter 3 — Chapter 4 — Chapter 5 — Chapter 6 — Chapter 7 (7/7)

Seokjin woke up with the ringing of a phone.

He appreciated the warmth and weight next to him, half on top of him.

He looked at you. He allowed himself to do that only for a couple seconds.

Your phone was ringing, and he needed to pick it up before it woke you.

Your face had been so scared and tired when he first saw it at the front door.

He stood and picked up the call just in time.

“Oh, thank God, Buttercup where are you?” Jeongguk’s voice came from the phone.

“It’s Seokjin. She’s with me, at the apartment. She’s sleeping.” He replied, his voice gravelly after being under the cold rain and sleeping for almost two hours.

“She’s with you?”

“Yes, she’s here. She’s sleeping.” Seokjin repeated.

“Kim Seokjin. I am going to kill you!” Yoongi said, stealing the phone from Jeongguk. “We were all looking for her. Poor Jeongguk was in a panic. Are you stupid? Outright dumb? What is it, both your two miserable neurons decided to throw a strike today? Did they accidentally crash and perish? Did they finally decide to end their suffering?”

“Yoongi. Stop,” said Spice from a distance. “She’s safe, stop acting like an overprotective parent.”

“Is she okay? Is she hurt?” Yoongi asked.

“No. I found her here, taking her stuff away.” Seokjin said, his body tensing at the thought. “Is she leaving? What is going on?”

“She’s going to the cottage with Namjoon. They’re leaving on Monday.”

Seokjin rolled his shoulders before exhaling. “How has she been in the last few weeks?”

“A mess. Sad, miserable. And it’s your fault.” Yoongi spoke with vitriolic hostility in his voice.

“I’m gonna fix it, Yoongi. I promise.” Seokjin said, his voice extremely emotional as he looked at you. Your eyes were open and you had the tiniest smile on.

“Are you gonna talk to her? Actually confess? Tell her you love her and be done with all the insecure, selfish bullshit?”

“I’m gonna talk to her.” Seokjin replied, still looking at you. “I’ve got a bunch of stuff to come clear with. And I’ll tell her I’m in love with her. And that she’s not going to Namjoon’s. She’s staying with me.” He winked. “She needs to eat and regain some strength before she goes to the woods, if she still wants to go. I’ll tell her ‘Buttercup, I’m in love with you. I’ve been in love with you for four years.’” His voice broke. “‘I don’t want to spend one more day without you’, that’s what I’ll tell her.”

You were still incredulous, completely still under the blanket.

“And then I’ll ask her to be my girlfriend, and if she turns me down, then it’s alright. I’ll take it like a gentleman. I’ll let her be. But if there’s even a tiny, minuscule part of her that wants to say yes, then I won’t let her go until she agrees to become my girlfriend.” Seokjin explained, with determination filling his voice.

Yoongi got emotional. “Go tell her before you change your mind.”

“She’s right in front of me. She heard every single word.”

“Then I guess you have more important stuff than stay on the phone with me.”

Seokjin chuckled. “Hopefully kiss my new girlfriend, if she lets me.”

You didn’t even understand what was going on before you nodded energetically.

“She said yes. I gotta go.” Jin’s mouth shaped into a large, proud grin.

“Sure. Stay safe. I’m too young to become an uncle.” Yoongi teased with a snicker.

“Goodnight uncle.” Seokjin replied before closing the call.

Your stares stayed locked together as he placed down the phone.

His expression turned serious but kind. “You’re awake.”

You blinked and licked your lips. “I am.” You took a pause, inhaling. “And I want to kiss you.”

He mirrored your action, his tongue slipping out, wetting the seam of his mouth, directing your glance there. “I want to clear things up, before that.”

You closed your eyes, trying not to lose your patience. “What is there to clear up?”

“I just wanted to explain stuff. About Grace and all of the rest...”

From the insecure, agitated look in his eyes, you realised he was scared. You patted the sofa, inviting him to sit beside you. He followed your lead. “I’m listening.” You reassured him, placing your hand on top of his knee.

“When I started dating Grace, I was convinced I could never stand a chance with you. And though Yoongi insisted on the fact that you had feelings for me, I was too shy and too scared to risk it. And after living with you and being so… united. So domestic… I couldn’t handle my feelings anymore.”

You rubbed his arm comfortingly, sitting up, trying to reassure him, to heal him from all those months of insecurities and silence and denial.

“I tried to suppress them. And Grace looked so kind, so respectful. And she’s a beautiful young woman. I could see myself falling for her.”

You pressed your forehead against his shoulder. You still had to realise that such a gesture had a deeper, somehow different meaning, that from then on you were allowed to do that and more.

“But the closer I got to her — and the farther I got from you — the more it all felt wrong. And I don’t even know why I did what I did that Saturday — well Sunday, you know what I mean anyway. I think some part of me was angry because of Edmund or something, or because I thought that I could stop thinking about you if I found someone else to think about and that makes me an absolute idiot—”

You interrupted him. “Don’t hide from me. Ever.” You cupped his face and made him look at you. “You were hurt. And I took similar decisions. What I did with Edmund was somehow similar to what you did with Grace. It’s just that you two had feelings for each other while—” The idea of him being in love with someone else squeezed your lungs until you felt empty.

“I’ve never felt someone as deeply as I feel you, though. I’ve never felt so many things for anyone else beside you.” He said, his eyelashes fluttering as he looked at your lips.

“I love you.” You murmured. There were no other words you could use. “I’m in love with you and I’m not angry that you tried to forget and move on. It doesn’t matter that we fucked or made love to other people. I don’t care that you didn’t tell me. The only thing that matters is that you’re here now and I love you so much.”

He repositioned himself so he could look at you without getting a crick in his neck. “Why didn’t you tell me?” He asked, soft and delicate, worried even.

“Because I couldn’t think about losing you. Because I didn’t even realise I was in love before you started spending time with Grace. Well, I knew I was attracted to you and that I considered you my friend, but I had never really allowed myself to consider I could have more. I was happy with what we had, and I never realised I could lose it, or that someone else could have it instead of me.”

He touched your hair.

“I was okay with what we had. Asking for more felt selfish. Like I was being greedy.”  You lowered your eyes, his gaze too intense for you to resist.

“I want you to be greedy, Buttercup.” He whispered, his hand cupping your jaw. “I want you to take all of me and not leave a crumb for anyone else.” His body felt closer, hotter. “I love you, Buttercup. And not in the friendly way. I love you in a very passionate, very hungry way.” His thumb traced your lower lip as he gazed at it heatedly. “Do you love me too?”

You nodded recklessly, almost snapping your neck. “I love you. In a very unfriendly, very sexy way.”

He smiled. “Good.”

His mouth lowered gently, reaching yours, his whole body inching forward until your eyes lost focus and closed. It was a good kiss. Not perfect but good.

Jin’s lips felt soft against your mouth, maybe a bit too delicate, still, definitely pleasing. With just a pinch of mischief, you pulled at his lower lip lightly, biting it delicately.

The growl he emitted had you smiling before you repeated your teasing move, drawing him in. He exhaled and opened his mouth, sucking your upper lip past his teeth.

That felt better than good, leaning to perfect.

What actually made it perfect was his body completely caving in as he manoeuvred himself on top of you, holding himself up with one hand as his hand explored your body deliciously, caressing your hair, your shoulder before reaching your waist.

Helpless and desperate, you pressed the tip of your tongue against his lower lip, pushing it into his mouth.

His hips pressed sinfully against your thigh as he groaned and tangled his tongue with yours.

You moaned and he whimpered in return, a growl vibrating deep in his throat.

His hand moved under your shirt, stopping abruptly.

Dammit.

Your stomach rumbled noisily, making Seokjin part from you. “You’re really hungry.”

You blushed and looked away. “Yeah.”

He hid his face into your neck, snickering. His breath tickled you. “You feel so good right here.” He said, snuggling closer. “But I have to feed you first.” His fingers dug into your sides. “You’re thin.”

Your nails raked against his back. “I had a bit of a hard time in the last few days.” You mentioned casually.

“Can’t have you like this.” He parted from your body, studying your face attentively. “Let’s get you fed.” He whispered, pecking your lips and standing up, heading to the kitchen.

“You’re kidding, right?” You stood up on wobbly legs and followed him.

He looked back at you. “Not at all.” Jin theatrically opened the fridge and lifted an eyebrow. “Chicken wraps. Salad. An abundant dose of ice cream. I need you sugared up.”

You looked at him with a pout.

“It’s the quickest meal I can arrange, Buttercup. We can have dinner in forty and then cuddle and make out. Dinner is non-negotiable.” He said, getting the chicken strips and the large tortillas, together with cherry tomatoes and cheese.

“Can’t we just… postpone dinner?” You said, too caught up in your grovelling to bring up memories of him and Grace in the kitchen.

“Why would we need to postpone dinner?” He asked, slipping some butter into a pan, together with some garlic, moving the chicken strips onto the pan and roasting them quickly with a random — and a very delicious-smelling — mix of spices.

You dragged your foot against the floor, trying to look demure. “You know why...”

He snickered devilishly. “We’ve waited for four years. One more hour won’t hurt you. Cut the cherry tomatoes, please.”

“Especially because we waited for years we should be forgoing dinner.”

He laughed. “I won’t have you fainting on me. Dinner, then whatever you want, Buttercup. Cut those tomatoes, you’re postponing the fun.” He said, adding a spoonful of chicken broth to keep the meat in the pan soft and tasty.

“Now I remember how insufferable you truly are.” You said, starting with the cutting.

He smirked. “You’re stuck with me from now on, doll.”

“I’m revoking the love declaration.” You muttered.

“Are you revoking your undying lust for me too?” He asked, turning towards you with a lopsided, cocky grin.

You just looked at him with the most insulting look you could muster before returning to the tomatoes.

“Such a good girl. Still cutting those tomatoes to get her reward.” He joked.

Once, this kind of nagging was absent minded, innocent and playful. Now it was outright sexual. Especially since the praise had a shiver running down your spine.

“Don’t tease if you’re gonna make me wait.” You groaned.

He bent and kissed your cheek. “I’m doing it for your good, Buttercup.” He moved to your earlobe. “You’ll thank me later, doll.” He nibbled on the soft skin. “I promise it will feel so good, Buttercup.”

You stretched your neck to the side, offering him the expanse of taut, corded throat.

He grazed it with his teeth, drawing the purple-greenish line of your jugular.

“I bet you taste so damn good,” he murmured, sucking at the base of your throat.

“Jinnie.” You called delicately.

He parted from you abruptly. “Dinner. First, dinner.” He reminded himself. “Dammit, you’re such a tease.” He complained, picking up another larger pan to heat up the tortillas. He also added a light sprinkle of flour to the chicken, to give a creamier texture to the sauce made by the broth and the butter. Once the first tortilla was warm, he placed the chicken on top, mingling it with the tomato pieces and the cheese while you prepared the salad.

Dinner was ready in twenty minutes, the wonderful smell of spices filling your nostrils and making your mouth water as you sat and stared at your tortilla, waiting for Jin to sit down himself. He also added an interesting bottle of white wine to the mix, matching the chicken.

“Enjoy.” He exclaimed before digging in himself.

Your whole mouth was feasting at the taste of the food.

It could feast for something better, your hormones reminded you, but you let that slip.

Dinner was uneventful, the both of you too busy and hungry and tense to start a conversation.

While you were thinking about how to tell Jin you wanted him to ram you into the mattress and slap your tits, he thought whether it was okay for him to want sex already. Okay, technically you had been friends for years, but maybe you wanted to wait, go on actual dates, be a couple, in an official relationship before letting him make love to you.

It was pretty clear that any kind of conversation between such two people would evidently elucidate any semblance of doubt, but it would also be a minefield of misunderstandings and potentially very embarrassing bushes to beat around.

So you both stayed silent, completely oblivious to the lessons you had learned roughly an hour ago.

By the time he stood and prepared a small bowl of plain milk gelato, topped with his special wild berries sauce, doubt had nagged at him enough that he was ready to speak.

He placed the bowl on the table. A lovely royal blue bowl. It was his favourite. Maybe because it was his mother’s favourite. He sat down and patted his hands against his thighs. “Come here.” He murmured.

You obliged, settling on his lap contentedly. He took a spoonful of dessert, making sure that he got some sauce in it before offering it to your awaiting mouth. “Eat up, doll.”

You opened your mouth and enjoyed the refreshing feel of the gelato against your palate.

“I need you to listen to me, Buttercup.” He started. “I know we confessed our feelings and that we’ve been attracted to each other for a very long time.”

You nodded, watching as he offered another spoonful as soon as you opened your mouth.

“I just want you to know that I’m dying to make love to you tonight, but we don’t have to. It’s okay if you want to… I don’t know, get physically intimate a bit at a time, or if you want it to be something special, or—”

You interrupted him. “I want to make love to you too, tonight.”

Your eyes followed him as he licked his lips. “Shall we bring this to the bedroom then?”

Nodding you stood up, going for the living room and grabbing the comforter, walking down the corridor and looking at him from over your shoulder. “What are you waiting for?” You asked before disappearing into his room.

He shook his head in disbelief before grabbing more wild berries sauce. Maybe, hopefully…

He took the bowl of ice cream and a spoon, taking his time before entering his room.

You were already laying on his bed, head to toe a vision.

You had already removed your yoga pants and you were laying there in an oversized t-shirt.

“Tell me how you want me to treat you, Buttercup.” He asked, studying you as he took a mouthful of gelato to his mouth.

“Undress first. Then come here. Feed me that delicious dessert and then feed me your cock.” You said, completely unashamed as his burning gaze explored your naked skin.

“I won’t feed you my cock, sorry doll.” He said, placing the bowl on the nightstand together with the sauce. “I’ll need to suck on your pretty tits first.” He took off his sweater in a flash, your eyes reacquainting with his naked chest, bathing in the glorious width of it. It was really breathtaking, with its plains and slopes and dips.

“You’re gorgeous.” You murmured, looking at him while your hand went to your breast, palming it and teasing the peak while he took off his sweatpants. Watching the delicious shape of him from over his boxers had you moaning just slightly, whimpering weakly before your hand slid under your shirt to grab at your flushed, overheated chest.

Seokjin caught your wrist vigorously, pulling it out. “Those are mine to touch, doll.” He reprimanded you. “All mine.” He repeated, straddling your waist, pinning your hands up.

You looked at him with a wicked smile. This, this, was your best friend, the man you had loved for years. And here he was, pinning your wrists, ready to mark your breasts, to own them.

“Keep ‘em there.” He ordered, letting go of your wrists before stretching his fingers to completely hold your breasts, kneading them lightly to test the texture.

“Fuck, they're so soft.” His eyes closed as he felt them up appreciatively. “I can't wait to suck these.” He said, and his unashamed comment opened another new world to you. His thumbs found your nipples, rolling them under the plush pads of his fingers. “You like this?” He asked, looking in your eyes.

You nodded, stretching toward the bedside table and switching on the small lamp there. “Wanna see you.” You explained, looking at him, waiting for a reaction.

“Are you sure? You okay with me watching?” He asked, just as your eyes closed and your back arched, your breasts pushing against his palms, your throat emitting the shyest moan.

“Oh, you like this a lot, don't you, Buttercup?” He snickered, bending down to kiss your neck. “Let me hear how good it feels, honey,” He murmured, sucking at your skin gently.

“Please, I want my shirt off, Jin.” That's all you managed to say, squeezing your thighs together once you realised he wasn't giving you anything to grind against.

“You want me to touch your naked skin?” He asked, making you grow even more desperate.

“Please. Jin…”

He looked at your face. It was absolutely adorable as it scrunched up in disappointment, a lovely pout making your lips rounder, softer, plumper. He kissed them briefly. “Sit up, lovely. Let's take this shirt off.” He murmured with a deep baritone timbre.

The shirt was gone in a second, his mouth latching on a nipple before you could even take off the shirt completely.

His hips ground against your belly, his erection pressing hard against your navel while you laid back down, his front arching away from you as his mouth stayed attached to your chest.

“Please, gimme…” You tried to speak, needing something to ease the pressure between your thighs, where your throbbing clitoris felt unforgivably neglected.

“What?” He asked, parting from your breast and looking so blissful and confused, like he didn't even know what was going on, like your breasts had given him a total reset and all he could remember, all he could ever want and do was to stay there and suck, completely oblivious to anything but the object of his lust.

“Need you down there,” was all you managed to say, still too high from the promises of pleasure.

He grinned *hazily. “Down where?” He asked, teasing and unforgiving.

You exhaled and whimpered. “I need you between my legs.”

“Between your legs where, Buttercup? Don't be shy.”

At that you snapped. “If you intend to keep sucking my nipples could you please kindly press your thigh against my clit? I need to grind on something and you're being too fucking uncooperative.”

He laughed almost hysterically. “Of course, Buttercup. See, was it so hard to ask?” He commented, almost too patronising.

“You're making me want to shut your mouth.” You replied, pushing your hips up and finally meeting his hard thigh, giving a low moan.

“Too bad that would keep me from doing this.” He said, sitting up slightly, grabbing the spoon from the bowl and pressing the cold metal to your areola, spreading a thick layer of ice cream there while your hot skin made it melt and dribble down.

“Fucking hell.” You said, watching as his tongue slid out and collected the rivulet of cream that was dangerously rolling down towards the sheets, almost staining them.

His eyes found yours and he grinned. “Feels good?”

You nodded. “Do that again, please.”

He obliged, this time reaching the peak and sucking it, his mouth opening wide as he tried to suck away as much dessert as possible.

Your left hand went to his head, holding him against your breast while your right one went to his ass, pressing it down so that your pelvis and his met, grinding against each other deliciously, his mouth leaving the sucking motion to release a heavy exhale.

“You have the most beautiful tits I've ever seen and touched, Buttercup. They feel so soft and warm and good.” He murmured, so aroused it almost felt painful. “I love them so much.” He confessed, pressing them together and dipping his face in between, moving it side to side. “I love you so damn much, ____.”

He gave a few thrusts with his hips, before pressing his cock harshly between your bodies, your skin feeling so sensitive that you thought you could feel it throb against you.

“I want you inside.” You whispered, grinding into him in response. “Tell me you used a condom the other time.”

He nodded. “I always have.”

You nodded in reply. “You sure you’re clean?”

“I got tested before Grace. And she’s clean.” He said, slowing down at the mention of his ex.

You nodded. “I got checked after Edmund, for peace of mind. All safe.”

“Thank fuck.” He commented, biting the underside of your boob. “I can’t wait to feel you raw on me. If you’re okay with that.”

You confirmed, bobbing your head so energetically you thought it would detach from your neck. “Want to feel you cum inside.” You murmured while he bit his lip and got more ice cream, covering your other breast, the cold of the food and the spoon making you keen and purr. “Is this what you were doing while she made those sounds?”

He tutted and shook his head. “I’ve always wanted this with you. It would never please me as much with anyone else.”

You rolled your eyes. “Liar.”

He arched an eyebrow and stopped his licking and sucking motions, sinking his teeth into your flesh, eliciting a gasp from you, leaving his position only once he was sure he had left a mark. “What did you say?”

“That you’re a liar. That you like this more with me than with anyone else,” you replied, cocky and bratty.

Without thinking twice, he slapped your left breast violently, not even trying to be delicate.

You squealed, your whole body flinching before your fingers gripped the sheets tightly.

“You think I would do this with just anyone?” He asked, almost angry, the hard bite in his voice scaring you just a little.

He eyed the other breast meaningfully, placing his hand there but not slapping the full curve until you shook your head yes, giving him permission.

The second blow had you losing your mind completely, your cunt so sensitive that you felt a heavy gush of arousal drip out of your entrance. “No, Jin.”

“Grip the headboard and stay still.” He said, sitting up and tugging your panties down, the fabric almost ripping at the aggressive movements. “Maybe you don’t get how much you turn me on, Buttercup.” He grinned, looking at you finally naked in front of him.  “Do you know how many times I saw those perky nipples under my shirts? How many times I thought about covering them in any food imaginable?”

You shook your head. “Maybe I wanted you to lay me on top of the kitchen table and shove your cock in my cunt and bruise my tits all over.” You replied, batting your lashes innocently. “Maybe call me your dirty little slut. Throw in a couple spanks.”

He stopped everything he was doing, entirely frozen.

“Is that how you like it?” He asked, completely focused on your reply.

You licked your lips. “With you I might like that, yes.”

“You want to be my dirty little slut?” He asked, staring into your eyes, quoting your words exactly.

You inhaled and nodded.

“You want me to degrade you?” He asked again, settling between your legs and rubbing your thighs.

Again, you shook your head yes.

“What if I called you my cockstarved whore?” He said, slightly hesitant.

You smiled and closed your eyes. “Why don’t you do that while squeezing my cheeks with one hand and slapping my tits with the other?”

He snickered. “You really are a filthy animal, uh?” He slapped your breast and bent down to your face. “You want me to use you like a fuckdoll, mh?”

“Yes, please.”

“I need to stretch you first, though, love.” He said, softening for a second. “Now, out of our little game here, I don’t want to hurt you like that, yes?”

Your mind sobered up for a minute as you listened to him.

“Listen to me now, Buttercup. We need a safeword, love.” He said, touching your face. “You okay with colours? Green is good, yellow is slow down, red is stop.”

“I’m good with that.” You replied, trying to reach his face with yours. “Can you kiss me, please?”

His expression turned longing and fond before he took his time, making love to your mouth with his, his kiss so deep and demanding and passionate until he felt how wet you were against his thigh.

“You’re drenched, doll.” He said, smirking at you. “I want to feel your pretty hand around my cock, Buttercup. Stroke me while I stretch you, love.”

You nodded, your hands leaving the headboard lightning fast sliding into his underwear with speed you doubted you could muster in any other circumstances.

“Fuck, you’re thick.” You said once your fingers wrapped around him.

“That’s what the stretching is for, Buttercup.” He grinned as he looked down at you. His fingers slipped into your slit effortlessly, your inner muscles gripping him immediately.

“And you’re tight. So damn tight.” He replied, bending down to lick at your chest, suctioning your areola into his mouth, shaking his head, making your whole breast bounce in a movement that was too mild to cause pleasure, weren’t it for the incredible amount of arousal circling in your bloodstream.

“Please, Jin. Inside. I’m begging. Please.” You pleaded, stroking him, feeling how long and thick and hot he was, filled with ridges and veins. And he was circumcised. None of your previous partners were.

You explored the differences with your fingers, the lack of skin there so interesting and unusual.

“You like that?” He asked, gritting his teeth as he felt his cock flutter, a drop of precum leaving his slit.

You nodded as you caught his arousal, spreading over the soft, spongy tip, completely undisturbed by foreskin. “I want to see it.” You said before a long moan left your lips, his fingers hitting a sensitive spot inside you, rubbing it with slow movements of his index and middle finger, hooking them and pressing intensely against the smoothest patch of skin. “Oh, god.” You murmured, your eyes fluttering shut as he added his thumb on your clit.

“Cum on my fingers, Buttercup.” He growled. “Then I’ll let you see my cock. You need to cum first, though. Cum for me.”

While your hand stroked him lightly, absentmindedly, the rest of your body focused exclusively on the feel of his digits inside you. ‘I’m close’ was all you managed to say before your hips started following your high, your body becoming completely unresponsive to any semblance of control your mind tried to impose.

“Cum, love.” He said, and your whole being responded, your hand stilling, your breathing stopping, your eyes opening wide before closing again while ecstasy possessed you.

“Yes, love. That’s it. My filthy thing. Show me how you do it.” He spurred you on, watching your body contort in pleasure.

“Jin.” You whined, the first sound you managed to emit since you came apart for him.

“Yes.” He said, removing his thumb from your clit and adding another finger inside you, stretching you wide before you called a yellow.

He extracted his fingers and laid them flat against your mound. “I think I promised you my cock, uh?”

Grinning wildly, you agreed, trying to tug his boxers off. “I want it. I earned it. Give it to me.”

He snickered, cleaning his hand against your breast before collecting your taste and what was left of the gelato with the flat of his tongue. “How demanding.”

“I’ve waited four years. Can’t you just do me already?”

“We could have waited way, way less.” He said, taking the bowl with only a spoonful of molten ice cream, tipping it teasingly over your torso, drawing a line that went from your belly button to your mouth, which you opened wide, letting the liquid dribble in.

Seokjin stared in wonder, imagining something else spilling into your mouth. Once there was nothing left, he placed the bowl back on the bedside table, bending down and licking up the line of cream he had drawn, slowing down to make sure he didn’t leave too much of a mess.

By the time he reached your neck and chin, he was ready to explode with want, his whole body needing to claim, own, possess.

“Is my little slut ready?” He asked, lingering over your face. “Or does she need to learn some more patience?”

You shook your head, licking his lips. “Please.” You begged, your nails raking down his back.

“That’s a good slut. You’re begging for my cock?”

You nodded.

“And you’re so dumb for it you even lost your words?”

You nodded again, grinning.

“She’s the smartest little bean and still gets silly for my cock.” He smiled fondly, almost insultingly. “That’s my pretty fuckdoll.”

He laid down beside you, finally freeing his cock as he arched his hips off the bed and removed his underwear.

Your eyes focused on his dick immediately, the shaft so beautiful, covered in veins just like you had imagined when you had felt it underneath your fingertips.

“Dammit. It’s...” You bent over him, getting your hands on him, bringing your face closer to his crotch, wanting to learn every single detail by heart. “Jin.”

“What.” He replied before throwing his head back, his fingers going to the pillow and gripping it, his hand leaving the fabric to press his palm to his mouth.

You had teasingly taken his tip into your mouth, his skin feeling so smooth and hot, salty, your cheeks and tongue eager to squeeze him tentatively, feeling just how spongy his flesh felt.

He moaned sinfully. “You’re really hungry, aren’t you, my naughty slut.” His hand reached the crown of your head, caressing your head before pulling you off. “I wanna cum in your dripping cunt, Buttercup. Come up here.”

“What if I wanna blow you?” You teased, arching an eyebrow.

“Maybe I’ll let you do that for round four or something, come up here, let me fill that tight warm cunt.”

Closing your eyes, smiling slowly, you straddled his hips. “You’d better keep your mouth on my boobs in the process.”

He giggled. “Wouldn’t have it any different. Come here.” He opened his arms and you propped yourself on your elbows. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

You cupped his cheek and waited for him to kiss you.

He obliged. “Feels so good to taste me on your tongue.” He murmured, stroking your back.

“I haven’t even properly taken you in my mouth.” You quipped, slightly petty.

He smiled and grabbed his cock, placing the tip against your entrance. “I’ll make up for it.” He kissed your cheek. “Take your time.”

You nodded and lowered yourself slowly. Taking the first few inches was blissful, the lack of barrier making him slide easily.

“Fuck, it feels good.” He growled. “You feel so warm and tight, love. You feel fucking amazing.”

You purred as you took some more, the stretch becoming more difficult. Your inner muscles contracted, making you come to a halt.

“Holy fuck.” He murmured, his hips pushing in before he managed to control himself. “Sorry, Buttercup, so sorry.” He apologised as you flinched. He kissed your face repeatedly. “I’m so sorry.” He touched your cheek.

“It feels good, but I need to—” You took more of him. “Go slow.”

He nodded and felt your breast against his palm, hanging heavy, right there for him to reach and touch and fondle and suck. “Sure thing, love.” He looked into your eyes. “Tell me how I can make it better.”

You shook your head. “Just hold me, please.”

He wrapped you in his arms just as you took all of him, sitting on him. “Yes, ____. You are so perfect.”

You closed your eyes, breathing in through your mouth. Slowly, you started rotating your hips, feeling how his cock filled you, pulsating inside you. “Jinnie. I love you.”

“I love you too, Buttercup.” He spoke gently, assisting you as you started riding him, his fingers gripping your hips gently.

“You’re so hot.” You whined, biting your lip, watching as his face contorted in pleasure. “I love you so much,” you said with a whimper, your inner walls constricting around him.

“Stop getting tighter, it feels too good.” He whispered, chuckling in desperation.

“Don’t you wanna fill me up?” You looked at him, batting your eyelashes. “I want you to. Please.” You spoke through a pout, moving faster on him.

He closed his eyes and shook his head, trying to keep himself grounded.

You slowly rose to a sitting position, leaving the warmth of his embrace. “Don’t keep me waiting.” You provoked him, spreading your tiny hands over his insanely wide chest, your nails teasing him just a little. “I know you want to watch me drip in your cum.”

He exhaled heavily before giving a deep, breathy laugh, like a short series of hiccups. “You think you deserve my cum, you dirty slut?” He licked his lips, observing your tits shake right in front of his face before slapping them, earning a moan from you. “You really like them slapped, uh? Let’s see if you like spanks too.” He taunted before landing a heavy smack on your ass, enjoying the squeeze of your kegels. “And that pussy likes to clench me so tight.” He grinned, watching as your hand reached your clit, your eyes closed, your hair messy around your face. “Yeah, touch yourself, Buttercup.”

Your gaze met his, your chest blushing as your high approached. “I’m close.”

“It’s okay, keep touching yourself, love. I want you to feel good, honey.” His hips thrust in from beneath, making the stimulation more intense.

“I’m cumming,” you whimpered, leaning even more into your hand as your angle shifted, his cock hitting all the right spots inside you.

As soon as your body crashed on his, Seokjin caught you, holding you close while his throbbing cock kept pistoning in and out of you, focusing on making your orgasm last as he started zeroing in on his own.

“Keep it up, love,” he growled sternly while he felt his restraint slip, “I’m gonna get my slut sloppy with my cum, then I’m gonna lay her on her back and keep it plugged inside her while I fill her up some more.”

You only sobbed and squealed as you felt him get absolutely wild, growling as he gave messier strokes before sinking in deep and staying there, his cock pulsating and spilling his release inside your sensitive walls.

“Goodness, fuck, love. Never had a cunt this good.” He growled, holding his position for a minute, both of you exhausted and breathing heavily.

“Are you really going to do that?” You asked as soon as you came to your senses.

He blinked. “What?”

“The flipping on my back and going for round two?” You asked, parting from him just enough to look him in the face.

“Am I soft?” He asked you, arching an eyebrow.

You squeezed him with your kegels, his lower lip disappearing between his teeth as he felt you get impossibly tighter. “No.” You replied, looking into his dark gaze.

“Then you have your answer.” He smirked before executing his power move, your back hitting the sheets while he adjusted himself on top of you. “Grab the headboard. Hold on tight.” He said before sliding out and snapping his hips forward, his dick hitting the deepest corner of your sex.

“Oh, damn.”

He chuckled ruthlessly. “Damn right.” He replied cockily, slamming into you again, setting a fast, angry pace, watching your lips open wide, his cock coaxing cry after cry from your throat. “Are you gonna cum for me again? Milk this cock with your juicy cunt?”

You nodded helplessly, arching your chest up, trying to get his attention on your nipples.

He bent down obediently, giving you exactly what you were silently asking, his tongue laving your left areola in lazy, teasing licks. “Touch your clit.” He commanded, feeling his edge come around.

While his cock kept ramming in and out of you, his mouth went to your throat, biting you, his neck contorting as he tried to pay more attention to your sensitive skin.

Your fingers reached your clit just as he sunk his teeth in the soft curve of your bosom.

“Jin, please.” You croaked, your hips meeting his while the room filled with the sound of skin smashing against skin, the headboard thumping against the wall, the feet of the bed scraping against the floor, his laboured breath interrupting once you felt his cock spill inside you again with the strange, pleasurable sensation of his cum spurting against your walls.

You whimpered, hoping you could still cum one more time, but ready to give that up, if need be.

“Come on, Buttercup. One more. I know you can.” He said, staying inside you, arching off of you and slapping your breast again. “I know you’re still hungry for my cock. Give me one more, my lovely little slut. Gimme more, love. I’m waiting for you.” He said, watching your fingers work your clit furiously.

“Again, Jin.” You whimpered, your voice breaking.

“This?” He asked, hitting again.

“Yes, Jin, Yes. Please, Seokjin.” You begged. “Please, I love you, please, make it good. Please, please, please.” You cooed and chanted, so lost in pleasure you felt your high peak and before it shoved you tumbling downhill, pleasure making you soar and precipitate, like a small bird in a storm.

“Oh, you’re cumming, Buttercup.” He observed delivering small hits to your nipples before pinching one, then the other, tweaking them energetically but carefully.

“Jin.” You whimpered in a long moan.

“Oh, yes, ____. It’s me love. You’re with me, love.” He said, just as you tried getting closer to him, your hand resting on your mound while your other arm wrapped around him.

“I love you.” You whispered, your breath calming down. “I’ll never stop saying it.”

He rolled the both of you on your sides, looking at each other.

“I love you too, Buttercup.” He whispered, bringing you closer to him. “We’re both so messy.”

“The ice cream got so sticky.” You complained sadly, giving him a tired look.

“We should shower.” He considered, kissing your lips.

“You really feel like standing up?”

He eyed you eloquently. “I haven’t even slid out of you yet.”

You hummed. “Don’t want you to.” You mused, nuzzling into him.

“We need to clean you up.” He said, stroking your hair fondly. “My adorable messy slut.” He said with the expression and tone of the most affectionate praise.

You purred under his touch, feeling something flutter in your guts. “Don’t say it if you’re not going to torture me afterwards.”

He chuckled. “Let’s clean you up and get some rest. I’ll give you round three if you behave.”

“And then I can blow you for round four?” You asked, eyes bright and inquisitive.

He outright laughed, the sound making you laugh too. “Maybe.” He said, cupping your cheek and pulling out of you slowly, grabbing his boxers to clean you up as delicately as possible before you both stood and walked to the bathroom.

Seokjin woke up around five am, his alarm telling him it was time to get ready for Sunday shift. He would come back in time to make you breakfast — and maybe make love to you afterwards.

Switching off the alarm, he slid out of your grip, your arm thrown possessively around his waist.

He caressed your face before kissing your forehead and stepping away, knowing that it would take a catastrophe to take himself away from you if he lingered for too long.

Your eyes opened when the alarm stopped, watching his back as he disappeared into the bathroom.

When he came back, he was fully dressed, only his shoes and coat missing. You opened your eyes as he pressed his lips to your cheek. “Bakery?” You asked. “Don’t you have someone for the morning shift?”

He shook his head. “I’ve been considering getting some help. At least for a couple mornings a week.”

You hummed and nodded. “I can come along if you need.”

He denied. “Stay here. I wanna find you sleepy and cosy when I come back. Remember round five?”

You smiled and hid into the pillow. “Yes, please.”

He smiled along. “Good. Go back to sleep, Buttercup. We’re going on our first date today.”

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Navi: Chapter 1 — Chapter 2 — Chapter 3 — Chapter 4 — Chapter 5 — Chapter 6 — Chapter 7 (7/7)

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