#crush!alfie

[chaneajoyyy]

This vacation is very much need, especially right before I start filming! And getting to experience the country more like a local will be more memorable. Oh and I meet someone on my first day there???👀👀. And he's teaching me how to dance in Brazil???👀. I'll follow his lead😏👁️. Now where he go? I'm sure I'll be seeing him again🧐🧐. Oh my good sis no need to come for me and my wig like this!👍🏾👏🏾🙌🏾💓

Title: 3 Days, 4 Nights: Day One {Three Shot}

Title: 3 Days, 4 Nights: Day One {1}

Alfie Enoch x Reader

Warning: Mild Cursing, Plot

Words: 1.8k

Synopsis: You’re getting ready to start filming your latest project, the much-anticipated remake of “The Blue Lagoon” but because you’ve been hustling so hard, you’ve taken a much-needed vacation to recharge and cut loose. The vacation package brochure said, “Come to Brazil the land of beautiful people, beautiful beaches, and captivating architecture and experience all the country has to offer, we guarantee an unforgettable stay.” So that’s what you did. You had no idea just how unforgettable your stay would be. Day one a beautiful stranger with haunting eyes captivates you.

Note: Yaaaaaay, more Alfie!!!! Expect plenty more as I’ve discovered new to me pics of him and new-to-me facts about him. Fell deep in the rabbit hole of him the other night. This will be a 3 parter following each day.

Note II: There will be Google-translated Brazillian Portuguese in this fic. The text that is highlighted beside the Portuguese is the English translation. If it is incorrect, I apologize, and let’s all blame Google. Hopefully, it isn’t wrong.

Thank you guys for reading, I hope you enjoy this!

If you enjoyed this, please LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG.

***NOT Edited/Proofread**

~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter One: Welcome to Rio-Day One

“Eu espero que você aproveite a sua estadia.” {I hope you enjoy your stay}, the hotel front desk attendant said with a bright smile as she handed you back your passport along with your room key card and a folder.

“Muito obrigado.” {Thank you so much}, you replied returning her smile.

The lobby of the hotel was in full festive swing. Across the way to the left, there was a group of musicians playing instruments which filled the lobby with the sounds of steel drums, something that looked like a tambourine but slightly different, a musical bow looking contraption and a guitar. Altogether it sounded very close to samba music but with a tropical twist. You loved it.

“Your Portuguese is sufficient but I speak English,” the attendant said.

You released a breath. You’d been practicing for the last month and a half in prep for the movie you were going to be filming around the smaller islands and locations but you were nowhere near confident in yourself to proclaim yourself fluent or even conversational.

“Thank goodness. I’m sorry if I’m butchering your beautiful language.”

She giggled then waved you off. “You aren’t, I promise. I’m impressed you even tried. Portuguese is not an easy language to master.”

“Tell me about it. I’m trying though.”

A man in similar garb to what the attendant wore approached you with a warm smile.

“Eu tenho suas malas, por favor, siga-me.” {I have your bags, please follow me}

You glanced back to the attendant knowing when you were out of your depth. She smiled then translated for you. Nodding, you thanked the man and followed him as he wheeled you through the lobby and around the many guests standing around and watching the musical performance. Once in the elevator, you got lost in your phone checking your emails and messages. You’d been getting plenty of emails from your agent the last few weeks as filming for “The Blue Lagoon” drew nearer and nearer.

You’d seen the originals and had always loved them for their simplicity. When you heard they were remaking them you jumped to audition but didn’t hold your breath that you’d be called back or even selected. If history was any indicator you expected the role to go to some tall, slim, little to no melaninated actress who had more star power and more of a stronger backing. You’d been in LA for three years and had done mainly commercials, modeling gigs, and C-level sci-fi movies.

So when you’d gotten the call back you were shocked. Then the second call back stunned you even more. By the time your agent called to give you the news that you’d been chosen you were speechless. The news had come mere days before you were going to make the decision to throw in the towel, leave LA and go back home to figure out your next move.

“Esse caminho por favor. Este é o seu quarto.” {This way please. This is your room}

You understood maybe four words but it was enough for you to follow him as he used your key card to open your room at the end of the hall. You thanked him then walked in first and couldn’t help but gasp.

“My god.”

The view before you was incredible. The lush green of the palm trees framed the picturesque blues and sandy browns of the beach and the Atlantic. From this high up it was enough to leave you in awe.

“Bonito não é?” {Beautiful, isn’t it?}

“Sim, muito muito bonito.” {Yes, very, very beautiful.}

A few moments later, the man handed you back your key card then bowed his head before he left. Walking closer to the nearest window, you opened the sliding door and stepped onto the balcony then took a deep breath. The salt from the ocean mixed with coconuts and the sweet smell of pastries and you sighed.

“Three days and four nights of this. Just what the doctor ordered.”

An hour or so later you found yourself wandering around taking in everything you could. The city was so lively and loud you knew that there had to be tons of pockets of culture and normalcy for you to take in. You’d read an old interview of one of your favorite celebrities where they said they wished they would have soaked up traveling like a local rather than a tourist when they could because getting to know a city for what it really was couldn’t be beaten. That had stuck with you and whenever you traveled you preferred to do the less touristy things.

From the corner of your eye, you spotted a fruit cart and hurried over to order an assortment of the top local fruits. You watched as the cart owner prepared sliced pineapple, guava, papaya, and mango and placed them into a large plastic cup. She then drizzled a mixture over the top then held it out to you. Smiling, you accepted and handed her the money then went on your way. Upon first bite, you realized the drizzle was a mixture of lemon and lime juice and salt. You moaned as the sweet fruit juices washed over your tongue then melded with the tang of the drizzle. You already didn’t want to leave.

Soon, you got lost going from cart to cart looking at crafts, tools, clothes, accessories, fruits, foods, and even masks. You were like a hummingbird flitting all over the place inhaling everything about the city that you could. If one was to judge a country based on its food alone then Brazil was top-notch.

“Garota linda! {Beautiful Girl!}”

The shout was so loud it boomed over the chaos of the street. You glanced in the direction of the voice and found a man in a colorful mesh top and white pants waving you down with one hand while his other hand continued beating against the pad of a drum. You approached the man and watched as the ones with him expertly played their instruments. The sound was beautiful and easily made you feel like you were right where you were—in one of the music capitals of the world.

He smiled and said something else you didn’t understand before he motioned to your lower half.

“I’m sorry I don’t—.”

“He said dance.”

You spun around to find a tall man towering over you by at least a foot. His hair was a neat but messy curled afro that matched his beard and mustache. Hypnotizing amber eyes stared at you with a glint of humor in them. You felt like you’d seen him before but you couldn’t place from where. There was something familiar about him in an unfamiliar way. One thing that could not be missed was his attractiveness.

“Uh—dance?”

“You know how right?”

“Well—I do but--,” you protested.

“But what? You either know how or you don’t.”

“Mova esses quadris!”

You looked back to the man beating the drums then back to the newcomer who’d translated moments before. He was also smiling.

“Move those hips,” he translated.

Without you realizing it, a crowd had formed and they were now clapping trying to motivate you.

“Oh garoto, siga minha liderança, {Oh boy, follow my lead.}” the tall dark and handsome man said before he approached you holding out his hands

“Posso?”

“Huh?”

“May I?”

Slowly, you nodded then he placed one hand at your waist and the other on your back. He then pushed your waist inward while thrusting your back forward.

“You’re too stiff. The first thing to learn in Brazillian dancing is in order to have any rhythm you have to feel the music and always be fluid.”

“Okay.”

“Rotate your hips like you’re hula-hooping.”

“What?”

He smirked, “Trust me.”

“I just met you.”

“Exactly and I’m the one who stepped up so you don’t make a fool out of yourself and have them making fun of you in a language you don't understand.”

He nudged his head to a group of older women who were watching you with nothing but amusement.

“Okay,” you conceeded.

You imagined a hula-hoop around your waist and you began circling your hips. First slowly then you got into the rhyme of the instruments. When your eyes met the man before you he looked impressed.

“Wow. Not some stiff americana tourista I see. You know you have hips. Next are the steps. Follow me.”

You watched his feet as he did a cool two-step that turned into a slightly complicated four-step. He did it again and again and again until you slowly caught on.

“Good. Keep your hips moving letting your legs lead. The dance is important to the music, it tells a story. Think you have it?”

You nodded.

“Let’s see.”

You mimicked everything he did while trying your best to keep your hips in motion to the rapidly changing music. The crowd around you began to cheer and clap and that was when you knew you had it.

“Good. Now faster.”

You tried your best to keep up with him but when his legs moved like he were some sort of otherworldly creature you knew there was no way to keep up. The crowd laughed but applauded you. The amber-eyed man chuckled and joined in applauding you. You smiled and spun around feeling like you’d just put on an award-winning performance. Suddenly, you felt heat by your ear and you probably should have been a little put-off, but you weren't.

“I see there’s hope you just might get some Brazillian into you while you’re here.”

You didn’t know if it was the depth of his voice that elicited the reaction or his wording choice but an intense shiver ripped through you making your stomach drop but not in disappointment. This was something else. When you turned to face him, there was no one. Your eyes scanned the street but the sea of people made it impossible to find him. The only thing in your mind was a question.

Who was that?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

TagList:

@caramara3 @chaneajoyyy​ @caplover22​ @lovebittenbyevans @mauvecherie @momobaby227 @disaster-rose @ovohanna24 @suchahautemess @po3ticb3auty @shar74nett @sweetst24 @queenoftheworldisdead @dersha89 @pricklypear @omg-mymelaninisbeautiful @1andonlytashae @judymfmoody @keytodespair @kenequa @triton08 @skyesthebomb @shipatheart

@koko-michelle @xsweetdellzx @labella420 @coldmuffinbanditshoe @ak329 @youremysuperstar @whore-like-behaviour @alookintohersoul @asiaaisa​ @jd-now-jq @naturalthrone22 @mrsbarnes-rogers @beyourownkindofbeautiful @beccacupcakesxo @toni9 @wonderlandfandomkingdom @partypoison00 @doublesidedscoobysnacks @sophiealiice @richonne4life  

@dumbchick @coffeebooksandfandom @siempremamita @raveviolet @lokonnie-blog @amennariee @briellableu @sadishdelray @28miw-inkpsycho @rororo06 @bugngiz @valkryienymph @yourwonderbelle @queenbetter @melaninhawtie​ @give-me-a-million-dollars-pls​ @valkryienymph @babyflowa07 @est1887 @halfrican-heat @nunya7394 @lovebittenbyevans​ @gardenwonders2 @sweetlikecoffy @dillie60 @ olabelle757 @ophiaedits @kenequa @triton08 @skyesthebomb @shipatheart @keytodespair

@xsweetdellzx @labella420 @coldmuffinbanditshoe @ak329 @shar74nett @youremysuperstar @whore-like-behaviour @alookintohersoul @asiaaisa77 @jd-now-jq @naturalthrone22 @mrsbarnes-rogers @beyourownkindofbeautiful @beccacupcakesxo @toni9 @wonderlandfandomkingdom @partypoison00 @queenoftheworldisdead @doublesidedscoobysnacks @sophiealiice @richonne4life @coffeebooksandfandom @siempremamita

[silver1springs]

“HE’S HOT I SWEAR” I say as they drag me to the psych ward

[this-boys]

Alfred Enoch attends the press night after party for "Untitled F*ck M*ss S**gon Play" at The Young Vic on September 22, 2023 in London, England.

[wolfblood-of-anubis]

i love KT but let’s give it up for our pansexual queen Willow Jenks for crushing on Amber out in the open and letting everyone and their salad know about it

[his-saiko]

Long hair. Glasses. Nerd. Mean. Metalhead.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

[dipnotski]

Alfie Bown – Keyif Almak (2023)

Dijital kültür ve psikanaliz üzerine birçok kitabın yazarı olan Alfie Bown, tam anlamıyla bir şen bilimci. ‘Keyif Almak: Candy Crush ve Kapitalizm’, bizi harekete geçiren temel parçamız olan keyif üzerine Pierre Bourdieu, Guattari, Žižek ve Benjamin gibi isimlerle eğlenceli tartışmalara girerken derinlikli çözümlemeler sunarak, kapitalizm ve onun aygıtlarıyla alay ediyor. Tabii ki öncesinde…

[witherby]

What would happen if Mouse got sick? Like super, probably at deaths door kind of sick? ok maybe that last part was exaggerating it a bit...But like almost 39 degrees fever, coughing to the point of gagging and vomiting, runny nose, fatigue, no appetite for anything, etc. Based off my own experiences when I get sick. I wanna know what they would do and who would panic the most. Who would lose the little sleep they already have even more. Who would think that the babeh is at deaths door. And who would be the most relieved when Mouse is better a few days later with the help of a paediatric approved medication

-🍨

I like this prompt a lot so I'm gonna do it. Hope u reaaaally like angst tho.

The Littlest Wayne: Sick Bed, part 1

Masterlist is Here!

⚠️ Spoiler/content warning: Young sick child, fever, depiction of seizure ⚠️

It starts with a cough.

"Hey, careful," Jason says, patting your back. The water you'd been sipping sprays across the table as you choke. Tim reaches over to right the glass and Alfred goes and collects a rag to mop up the mess. "You okay?"

"Mhmm," you mutter, wiping your mouth with a napkin. "Sorry...I can clean it, grandpa Alfie."

"It's quite alright, Flittermouse." Alfred gently runs a hand through your hair. "Oh, my, you're quite warm. Why don't you head up to your room and I'll have someone bring a tray to you with soup and crackers?"

"Okay." You push your chair away from the table and duck underneath it, allowing the shadow of the furniture to swallow you up. Bruce watches the dark blob you've become slide out of the dining room and towards the stairs with less energy than usual.

"I'll take it, Alfred," Dick says before anyone else can volunteer, rising from his seat. He sets his leftovers in front of Jason as he passes, helping the butler prepare a tray for you. "Do we have any Tylenol for little kids? If not, I can just crush up a half-pill for them."

"Child-friendly medications will be found in the young master's en-suite bathroom cabinet," Alfred says. "It will just be a few minutes for the soup, Master Dick. I'd recommend you head upstairs and measure out a small dose for your sibling before it's ready."

"Kay, sure," he nods, excusing himself.

Dick hops up the stairs two at a time and enters the family wing of the manor, trailing his hand along the walls and door frames until he finds yours. He knocks lightly and rapidly, a silly little sequence to let you know which brother it is, then opens the door to let himself in.

Your bedroom is almost pitch black. Since the development of your powers, your space has changed to reflect your needs overtime, which means the overhead lightbulbs have been removed and the sheer, pastel blinds over your window have been replaced with thick blackout curtains. For your family who require some form of illumination to see, you have several night lights you pick and choose from; you currently have a round projector plugged in that casts aurora borealis across the ceiling (a gift from Tim) and you've activated the touch sensors installed in the floor that briefly light up everywhere Dick walks, leaving his footprints behind for several seconds until they fade away.

The furniture you originally had, designed in warm, woody colors with bright accents, have also been replaced with black hardware and dark materials. Your bed frame is a dip-dyed wood with silver accents, your mattress and sheets are black, and your dressers, nightstand, and closet have all been painted to match.

At first glance, the large bedroom looks like every goth kid's biggest dream, but the light from the hallway spills briefly into your space when Dick walks inside, showing the bright, colorful books sitting on your black bookshelves, the even more colorful clothes in your wardrobe, your vast collection of toys, and a litany of pictures and photos on all the walls. There is a vibrant, beautiful life in the darkness, which encapsulates you perfectly in his opinion.

"Hi, Flitty," he greets, moving slowly as his eyes adjust to the light. "Alfred's working on your soup, so big bro Dicky's here to do medicine time. Holler at me so I don't accidentally step on you in here."

"Okay," you say from his left. Dick turns and squints, spotting a lump on your bed. He smiles.

"There you are. Lemme see if there's any of the gummies in your med cabinet. Those ones don't taste all gross."

He steps into your bathroom and turns the fairy lights on, bathing the area in a soft glow, and rifles through your cabinet for a minute. Then he makes his way to your bed, sitting on the edge of it with some chewables and a glass of water.

"C'mere," he says, and you comply, shuffling across the bed to give him a quick hug. "Alright. Can you show me you're a big kid and take this for me? Then you'll get a nice bowl of soup and maybe some juice."

You comply without fuss. Dick hears more than he sees you take the medication in the low light, and you go back to hugging him when you're done. Dick wraps his arms around you and lies down, propping you mostly on his chest.

"You okay?" He asks.

"Yeah. Just sleepy," you reply. "And my throat hurts kinda, from when I spit my water."

"Aw, I'm sorry. You only need to stay awake long enough to take a couple bites and then you can rest as long as you want."

"Okay...stay?"

Dick hums, running his fingers gently through your hair. He was supposed to go back to Blüdhaven this afternoon, but...

"Yeah, Flitty. I'll stay."

--

It turns into a fever.

"I'm sorry to turn you away when you've already come by, Delilah," Bruce says, meeting your private tutor in the vestibule. "Mouse came down with something yesterday, and I don't think they'll be up for lessons for the next few days. I forgot to tell you."

"Oh, that's absolutely no problem, mister Wayne," the tutor smiles, shaking her head. "I wish them a speedy recovery! Let me know if there's anything you need."

"I will, thank you. Take care!"

Bruce closes the door after seeing her out, the Charming Socialite mask slipping off his face as he heads for the stairs. He meets Alfred at the top with a nod, stepping past him and walking up to your bedroom door.

He gently knocks three times against the glossy wood, calling your name. "Can I come in?"

After a moment, he watches it click open, and you squint up at him in the doorway.

"Hi, daddy," you croak, voice dry and harsh from the progression of your flu. Bruce tuts and scoops your clammy body into his arms, carrying you back to your bed.

"Honey, you didn't have to come greet me," he says, "manners get thrown out the window when you're sick, remember? Let's get you tucked in."

You don't fuss or complain, which makes the worry flare up in Bruce's mind. He pushes it back, refusing to catastrophize a cold. All of his children get sick, it's not unheard of. A little fever is fine, and so is your lack of excitable energy. It's normal and expected.

"How do you feel?" He asks, pulling the blankets up to your chest. You squirm a bit, kicking them down.

"Hot," you say, "sleepy."

Bruce compromises by tucking the blanket around your tummy instead. You don't push it down any further. He pulls out a thermometer from his pocket and scans your forehead.

"Yeah, you are running a bit hot," he admits. An even one hundred degrees. Should be easy enough to control with careful attention. "Alfred says you refused breakfast this morning. Do you want to try eating something small for lunch? More soup?"

You shake your head. "Not hungry."

"I know you're not hungry, pumpkin," Bruce says, gently squeezing your hand. "But you don't wanna starve, either. Then you'll shrink up like a raisin! How am I supposed to snuggle a raisin?"

You smile a bit and give a wheezy huff of laughter. Bruce smiles back.

"So, will you try? You can have anything you want. I just need to see you take a few bites of something."

"Okay, daddy. Want...um... I want more soup please."

"You can have more soup," Bruce promises, running a hand through your sweatslick hair. He reminds himself to run you a bath in a couple hours. Maybe after a nap. "Do you want anything else?"

"Mmmyeah. Bedtime story?"

"Yeah," he says. "Any story you want, after we get some soup in you."

You smile again. It eases the knot of dread in Bruce's chest.

--

It gets worse.

Three days into it, your fever spikes in the middle of the night. You completely refuse any sort of food or drink all day, despite the angry growling of your stomach, and the family unanimously decides to bring you to the hospital in the morning to get looked at. Dinner without you is full of worry and tense glances toward the family wing, and it seems like not a lot of sleep is going to be had before they find out the total extent of your illness.

When tossing and turning in bed for a few hours doesn't lead him anywhere, Damian decides to give in to the nagging in the back of his head and pop in your room to check on you. He rushes to your bed when he sees you seizing and gasping for breath. Your temperature's shot up to a hundred and six and you don't react when he tries to shake you awake.

Fearful and, for once, feeling every bit the child he still is, he clutches your body to his chest and screams.

"BABAA!!"

The door slams open in seconds, though to him it feels like an eternity. Hal and Jason are coaxing Damian to let go of you and Bruce climbs on the bed to roll you onto your side, carefully wiping the foam and drool away from your mouth while he checks your vitals. Tim is in the hallway calling 9-1-1 and texting Dick to let him know what's happening.

"Dami, you gotta move," Jason says, placing his hands overtop his brother's. Damian's grip on your arm is so tight it's bruising. "Let go, they're okay. Let go."

"I'm tracking their pulse, you dumb bastard!" Damian snaps. "Release me!"

"You're hurting them, Dames," Hal says in his ear, wrapping his arms around Damian's waist. "Bruce has them, now. You have to let go and get out of the way for the paramedics."

Green eyes snap to your arm. He seems to finally take stock of what he's doing and eases off, letting Hal pick him up and pass him off to Jason, who carries him into the hallway.

"Stay out here," Jason says. "It's our job to keep out of the way for now."

"Who's going to let the paramedics in?" Damian asks, trying to pry himself out of Jason's grip. As much as he tries to crane his neck, Jason's standing too far away from your door to let him see how you're doing, and his iron grip is unyielding.

"Alfred's by the gate controls, he'll let them inside."

Tim gets off the phone with the emergency dispatcher and glances at your door with a frown. Every hitching gasp and choke you make can be heard from the hall, along with Bruce and Hal's barely-concealed, panicked murmuring, and he crosses his arms tightly and shuffles over to Jason now that his task is done.

"Can we wait downstairs?" He mutters. Jason keeps one arm wrapped around Damian and slings the other around Tim's shoulders, guiding them to the staircase.

"I want to stay!" Damian insists, pulling against Jason, who ends up needing to sling the little assassin over his shoulder to get him to move. "Todd!!"

"Robin," Jason snaps in his best Batman impersonation. It's a damn good one, because Damian quiets immediately, stiffening in his arms and ceasing his struggling without further protest. Tim freezes beside him, but Jason just pats his back and keeps guiding him down the stairs.

The trio is quiet as they file into the main living room. Jason and Tim sit on the couch and Damian gets propped up in his brother's lap. Try as he might, he can't wiggle out of Jason's arms.

"This is asinine," he hisses. "I should be up there."

"Doin' what?" Jason asks. "Bruce and Hal are both in there with Mousey. Alfred's about to guide the EMTs inside. Tim called 911 and then told Dick the situation. You were the one that first found 'em and got help."

Jason gives Damian a squeeze, propping his chin on top of his head.

"You saved their life, Damian. Ya don't need to do more than that right now. Let the grown-ups take the reins for a while."

"But I —"

"You've done more than enough," Jason insists, not unkindly. His tone has been uncharacteristically soft the whole time, Damian realizes belatedly. "I'm sure they'll thank you when they come out the other side of this."

Damian didn't do it for your thanks. He did it because he loves you. Despite you quickly approaching the age where Bruce might offer you the Robin mantle soon, which has filled him with more anxiety and anger than he's had in a long time, he loves you dearly and doesn't want anything to befall you.

In spite of everything, he's your big brother and he loves you just as much as he can't stand you.

"They will be fine," he mutters firmly. "There's no alternative."

"Right," Tim speaks up. He sounds like he needs the reassurance just as much as Damian. "M is gonna be okay."

The three of them turn their heads when several pairs of footsteps enter the vestibule. Four paramedics rush in with a stretcher and duffel bags of medical equipment. Alfred orders them in the direction of your bedroom with simple, firm instructions, and they head off.

The butler then turns, spotting them out of his periphery, and he clears his throat and adjusts the belt around his robe. He's still in his sleepwear, having rushed out of bed to help prep for the emergency like everyone else.

"I've had my fair share of exciting nights," he comments, "but I must say, they never become more enjoyable. Why don't you all join me in the kitchen and I'll prepare some drinks? Hot chocolate should suffice on a chilly evening."

"Sounds fantastic," Jason says, hopping to his feet. He lifts Damian up with him, denying him the chance to refuse, and with a glance and jerk of his chin, coaxes Tim to get up and follow after.

"Put me down," Damian says, reaching up to tug on Jason's night shirt. "I won't run back upstairs. I swear."

"Yeah? You double-swear? Don't make me chase you, kid, I really do not have the patience."

"On Father's life," he insists.

Jason sets him on the floor. Damian follows them into the kitchen and takes a seat at the island, cupping his hands around a warm mug of hot cocoa when Alfred hands it to him a couple minutes later. He watches the wisps of steam curl up into the air and dissipate, unable to stop thinking about your writhing body in bed. Your eyes had rolled back and your limbs had locked up, jerking uncontrollably. And the noises you were making...

The mug gives a foreboding creak under his grip. Alfred gently places his hand on Damian's back and gives it several soft pats.

"Do not fret, master Damian," he says, "our little Flittermouse is very resilient. An illness turning poorly won't keep them down for long."

"I know," he says. Alfred nods, and with a final brush against his shoulder, tends to Tim next to ensure he's also doing okay. When Damian looks at Jason, he sees him calmly drinking from his mug without so much as a furrow in his brow. But there's an almost imperceptible ricketing noise that means he's bouncing his leg nervously. It makes his stomach twist almost painfully, to know he's just as scared as everybody else.

Damian takes a deep breath. He sips his coco. He thinks of the froth pouring out of your mouth when Bruce rolled you into the recovery position. He puts the mug down.

He knows you'll be okay. You have to, because he just can't live with the alternative.

[zablife]

When They Leave Bruises

A/N: 🔞 A few quick headcanons. No editing just my unfiltered thoughts.

John

🖤 John can't help his strength, pinning your arms above your head as you play fight in the betting shop after hours.

🖤 His fingers dig into the delicate flesh of your wrists as he kisses you hard, reminding you why you pretend to be slower than him when he gives chase.

🖤 As you pretend to push back against the crushing weight of his hips, you have to admit his dominance is a turn on.

🖤 You’d let him do anything to you so the press of his fingertips is little to worry over, until you notice the marks next day.

🖤 John rolls your sleeves back to examine your skin the moment he glimpses the first mark and kisses each one softly.

🖤 He promises not to be so rough with you, but you only shake your head in disagreement. “I like it when you’re rough,” you confess and he smirks against your neck.

Tommy

🖤 Tommy loves taking you against his desk, gripping your hips in a vice like grip.

🖤 When he’s in need of stress relief, he’ll pull you toward him knowing you’re the only one who can stop the wheels turning in his overactive mind.

🖤 He often doesn’t realize when he crosses the line from passionate to brutal as he fucks you and it’s in those moments he’s most likely to mark you up. Crescent shaped marks dug into your supple flesh.

🖤 When he catches sight of the bruises marring your skin, he’s wracked with guilt and tries his best to make it up to you.

🖤 Even if you tell him it doesn’t bother you, he’ll shower you with kisses and presents until you’ve assured him many times over that you wanted it just as much as he did.

Arthur

🖤 Arthur isn’t like his brothers, he won’t apologize for his lovemaking, even if he’s under the influence.

🖤 You belong to him and being insecure, he marks you up to show his ownership.

🖤 He’s been known to leave handprints around your throat when he’s high on snow, choking you for your pleasure and his.

🖤 Tommy is the one to make him stop, threatening to hide you away from him if he doesn’t stop hurting you.

🖤 What Tommy doesn’t understand is your masochistic streak, needing Arthur’s punishments to feel loved.

🖤 When you explain this to your brother-in-law, he leaves you and Arthur to your own, twisted desires.

Luca

🖤 Luca expects obedience from his girl. If you so much as look at another man, his jaw clenches in anger to be revisited upon you later.

🖤 He’d never lay a finger on you in front of others, preferring to teach you a lesson at home.

🖤 His particular brand of punishment isn’t entirely unwelcome tho. He’ll spread your legs with his large hands, coaxing you into a trance like state with his tongue and leaving prints along the inside of your thighs as he holds them open to deliver another shattering orgasm.

🖤 The final mark comes from his possessive bite to your thigh, the sting causing you to whimper.

🖤 He’ll soothe it with his warm mouth and gentle words, telling you how much you mean to him. Then he’ll insist you reciprocate.

🖤 And you’ll echo the sentiment back to him in your blissful stupor.

Alfie

🖤 Alfie might seem fearsome to others, but he’s a gentle giant with you.

🖤 You practically have to beg him to choke you and even then, his hold is disappointingly limp. “You can’t hurt me, Alf,” you assure him, but he’s resolute in his decision. “I could tho, dove,” he answers with tears in his eyes.

🖤 He’s far more open to spanking tho, knowing it’s a safe area for impact. He enjoys watching your ass jiggle as he delivers a firm slap.

🖤 When he begins walking with a cane, you are the one to persuade him to strike you with it.

🖤 Tho hesitant at first, he comes around to it when he hears the lovely little gasps of pleasure from your mouth.

🖤 He’ll insist on rubbing the red marks with ointment to care for you tho.

Michael

🖤 Michael is a sadist and your pain is his pleasure.

🖤 He makes it clear to you when you begin dating that he wants full agency over your body.

🖤 He trains you to crave his brutality until you’re practically begging for his hand against your skin.

🖤 He delights in your corruption as well as the breathtaking sight of purple and blue blossoming over your skin.

🖤 And you wear them proudly, knowing you’re his and his alone.

Bonnie

🖤 Bonnie is a gentle soul who only shows his temper in the ring. His opponents are the ones most likely to receive the brunt of his aggression.

🖤 However, the adrenaline pumping thru his veins after a fight often means he takes certain liberties with you.

🖤 Without realizing, he’ll force you down for a fuck while he’s still feeling that high, his hands and mouth clamping down against you possessively.

🖤 It never occurs to him until later that he’s capable of hurting you and he always chastises himself when he sees the damage he’s done.

🖤 He’ll beg forgiveness for the bruises left across your swan like neck, fingertips tracing the pattern lightly until his forehead drops to your collarbone in shame. But you always stroke his hair and whisper words of comfort to assuage his guilt.

———————-

Tag List:

@peakyswritings

@evita-shelby

@brummiereader

@cillmequick

@call-sign-shark

@thomasshelbyswife

@runnning-outof-time

@pacifymebby

@novashelby

@peakyltd

@garrison-girl-08

@rangerelik

@little-diable

@look-at-the-soul

@lovemissyhoneybee

@loverhymeswith

@allie131313

@vivianleighwishesshewasme

@remembering-angels

@cillianmurphysdimples

@copinghex

@mayfieldss

@dandelionprints

@darklydeliciousdesires

@moral-terpitude

@shelbywhiterose

@look-at-the-soul

@kittycatcait219

@kmhappybunny240

[hottpinkpenguin]

Hey 😊 if your still taking requests for the peakys. Could I please ask for Alfie Solomons with A "ask me to stay" and D "dark secret" female reader. Thanks 💗💗

A/n: that's a wrap on Peaky Blinders requests from June!!! thx to all the lovelies who participated <3

The Wall Between Them - Alfie Solomons X Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2362 Content warnings: Domestic violence, reader murders the abuser, abuse, violence, blood/gore, protective Alfie, can't-be-vulnerable Alfie, trying-his-best Alfie, hints of soft!Alfie?

Her hands shook so violently it was a wonder she didn’t drop the pistol. If anyone had been watching the scene before them, they would have credited a guardian angel for guiding the bullet straight to his chest despite the treacherous wobble of the gun. Her eyes were closed when she pulled the trigger, tears streaming down her cheeks and mixing with the blood from her mouth. 

He fell like a sack of bricks. One minute he was lunging towards her, eyes trained on the pistol. A cold fear seized his heart as he saw the terror in her gaze melt away to black rage. All those whiskey beatings, harsh words and hateful years had backfired on him. Then, in the next instant, he died to the ear-splitting sound of a gunshot. 

The silence that followed was so loud she swore it would crush her. The walls around her seemed to be holding their breath. Was he really dead? Did she really pull the trigger? 

She didn’t let herself exhale until she saw a pool of blood - darker than she’d imagined it would be - staining the floorboards underneath him. She dropped the pistol; it landed with a heavy thud at her feet moments before her knees folded on themselves as if made of twigs. She pitched sideways, letting the hallway wall brace her fall as she deflated under the weight of realization. She knew in that moment that it didn’t matter how many times he’d hit her. The ghastly bruises and scars he’d left etched in her skin, the nights her mind had divorced itself from her battered body and wandered the halls like a ghost, the mangled monster he’d grown into… none of it mattered. All that others would see was a dead husband and a living wife with motive, means, and a guilty conscience. Even dead, that horrid man was imprisoning her.

She knew there was only one person who could get her out of this. And so, she wiped the blood from her rapidly swelling lip, picked up the pistol and slipped it into the deep pocket of her apron, and tied up the escaped strands of hair. It had been almost seven years since she’d seen Alfie Solomons, but she still knew exactly where to find him.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“Boss, there’s a lady here to see you.” 

Alfie barely heard Jack’s murmured comment above the jeer of the crowd. The Irishman was swaying unsteadily on his feet in the pen after taking a nasty round of hits to his right ear. Alfie could see his ear filling with blood. A busted eardrum, likely. Circling opposite him, the burly Hungarian Alfie knew as The Red Devil was snarling proudly as he surveyed his quarry. 

“Fuckin’ finish him!” Alfie called out, lifting a wad of bills in the air like a signal fire. The fight was fixed of course, and Alfie had fixed it. The Red Devil was turning into quite a lucrative investment, but his penchant for theatrics was tiring to Alfie. He preferred a quick win, efficient and clean. 

“Boss?” Jack edged slightly closer, waiting for Alfie’s orders.

“Hm?”

“A lady, boss. There’s a lady here to see you. Asked for you by name.”

“Didn’t book a whore tonight,” Alfie replied simply, waving Jack off as The Red Devil moved in on the Irishman, holding the dazed man’s head as he drove his knee up into the exposed forehead until the bell rang to signal the end of the fight. The crowd erupted into a mix of appreciative cheers, boos, and cries to settle up or place new bets as another pair of fighters moved to the edge of the pen. 

“Don’t think she’s a whore, boss. Looks like a respectable lady. Bit beat up though.” 

Alfie fixed Jack with an incredulous stare. He wasn’t accustomed to his men pressing him on trivial issues like this. Especially not on a fight night. Jack flinched imperceptibly; he was well-acquainted with Alfie’s anger and bore a nasty half-moon scar the framed his left eye from being pistol-whipped after pressing Alfie’s limits. Alfie almost moved to strike him, until something about Jack’s words and the odd look in his eyes plucked at something. 

“She give a name?”

Jack shook his head, eyes glued to the ground. “No. All she said was you were ol’ friends. Childhood friends, I think she said.”

It couldn’t be. Alfie shook his head as if trying to shake out the thought. But, then again, there was only one person he’d ever met who’d claim him as a friend. 

“Beat up, you say?”

Jack nodded. “Lip’s split and she got a shiner.”

A memory flickered across Alfie’s mind. He hadn’t seen her in years, but the last time he had, she’d had a ring of purple and green bruises around her neck. She’d tried to hide it under a high collar dress, but Alfie had her pressed up against the wall of his office, their lips devouring each other, and he hadn’t missed the way she winced when he let his hand slide down the side of her neck on its way to undo the line of buttons at the front of her dress. He knew who’d done it and didn’t need her to say a damn thing. If she hadn’t begged him on her knees - her goddamn knees - to spare that pathetic man’s life, Alfie Solomons would have gutted him nice and slow. 

He hadn’t seen her since. She’d stopped writing, stopped answering her own front door, stopped going to the butcher shop below where Alfie kept a small apartment. He’d had her on every surface of that apartment, rabid with hunger for anything she’d give him. Then she’d just vanished. Told him she was due to be married, couldn’t carry on with him anymore. Alfie knew there’d been a silent request buried in her words. He’d heard her ask it with her eyes. Ask me to marry you, and I’ll leave him. Alfie cursed himself every day for letting that moment slip by like water on rocks. He wasn’t any closer to figuring out how to love someone now then he was back then, but in his quiet moments he wondered if maybe he could have figured it out with her, if only he’d been willing to take that chance.

“Boss? Boss, what do you want me to tell ‘er?” 

The sound of the bell announcing the start of another match jarred Alfie loose from his reminiscences. 

“Nothin’. I’ll talk to ‘er.”

Jack eyed him with surprise, but quickly smoothed the spark of interest out of his features rather than risk another scar from his mercurial boss. He’d never known Alfie Solomons to pause his dealings for a woman. Something about her must have been special. Jack followed his boss out of the smoky, cacophonous warehouse and towards the back of the building where Alfie kept his offices. 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Alfie felt his fingers dig into the wood of his desk as she stepped out of the shadowy corner of his office and into the soft halo glow of his desk lamp. Her lip was split, blood dried on her chin, and one of her luminous eyes was swollen shut. Murder ripped through Alfie’s blood at the sight of her. 

“Before you say anything, Alfie, he’s dead.”

Her voice sounded different, thin and strained, like someone had scooped out her soul leaving nothing but an echo behind.

“He sure fuckin’ is.” Alfie was shaking he was so bloodthirsty. He couldn’t look at her and risk losing himself. How could it still be so fresh, he wondered, after seven long years?

“No, that’s not what I meant… Alfie, I-, I killed him. I shot him.”

A different man might have been horrified, or maybe even a little impressed. Alfie was none of that. Instead, he felt himself pitch forward over the lip of a hole of despair. 

His voice cracked when he ordered Jack and the rest of the boys out of the office. Once the door closed behind them, she sank down into one of the leather-backed chairs across the desk from him. Desperate to be close to her lest she splinter to pieces, Alfie rounded the desk to perch against its edge, stretching his long legs away from her in an attempt to give her space. She hardly looked up at him. 

“What did he fuckin’ do to you?” Barely more than a whisper. Alfie was glad the light was too dim for her to see that he was treacherously close to tears.

She looked up at him, shocked. Her one good eye gleamed at him. 

“Alfie, did you hear me? I killed him.”

He nodded, swallowing thickly. Alfie was full of tender urges and gentle feelings, but his mouth couldn’t seem to give them words or noise. All he knew was harshness and violence. It was the same wall that had kept him from reaching out for her hand and telling her all the things he felt the last night he’d seen her. Here he was, so close he could smell her lavender soap but his affection locked away so tightly and deeply that he couldn’t force himself to touch it even if he tried.

“Nothin’ he didn’t deserve,” he grunted brusquely after a few moments. He dropped his gaze, unable to tolerate the sight of her face bruised and misshapen. He noticed her hands were trembling in her lap. “What do you need, darlin’?”

She stifled a small sob at the sound of the pet name he’d reserved for her. 

“He’s still-... the body, I- I don’t know… I guess-”

“It’s done. Write down your address.” Alfie handed her a pen and paper, watched as she struggled to mark the street name and number legibly. Her knuckles were bruised, he noted with a twisted pang of pride and pain. She’d been fighting back, he realized. All alone these last seven years. And he’d let her. He’d stopped fighting to get to her. Let her close herself off to him. Let himself close off to her. And now, it wasn’t until she’d been pushed to the brink - maybe past it - that she’d come to him, and only because she knew that when violence and darkness was needed, Alfie could do it. But he couldn’t do the other things, the harder things. Like love her, protect her, tirelessly fight for her. 

She tore off the page and handed it to Alfie. He took it without looking at the writing, strode over the door and excused himself from the office. He thrust the paper into Jack’s hands. 

“Take care of it, Jackie. No loose ends, you hear me? I’ll fuckin’ rip you limb from limb if it ain’t done right.” 

He didn’t give Jack or the others time to argue or ask questions before he slammed the door as a dismissal and strode back to her. He reached for her, needing to feel her warmth under his fingertips just to prove she was here. She flinched instinctively, sending Alfie deeper into self-loathing.

“Do they know-”

“It’s done, darlin’. It’s taken care of.” 

Alfie poured himself a glass of whiskey, drunk it down in one gulp, and poured another. 

“Alfie…” 

Her voice was so soft and yearning it broke Alfie in two. He turned to face her. Gods she looked perfect. 

“It ain’t fuckin’ happenin’ again.” The most solemn promise he’d ever made. 

She recoiled from him as if slapped. It took him a half moment to process why. 

“I ain’t lettin’ anyone hurt you. Ever again, you hear me? I’ll fuckin’ burn the world and every hateful man with it, it don’t matter.” It was all Alfie could find the words to say. 

Finally understanding his meaning, he watched her relax in the chair. She eyed him without saying a thing, a strange expression on her face. 

“I don’t want that, Alfie,” she replied softly. “I don’t want any more death. I don’t want to see someone hurt ever again. I just… I just want…” 

Her words trailed off into the quiet. Neither of them knew where the end of that sentence would lead. The space between them stretched and morphed until it felt like an ocean separating them. Strange, that two people who both wanted so desperately to be with each other could feel so far away.

“Don’t set any fires on my account, Alfie.” She rose from her chair and walked towards him, taking the glass out of Alfie’s hand and downing the whiskey with a wince. “Just ask me to stay.” 

Alfie felt his heart run headlong into that same old wall that always kept them apart. Here she was, the only woman who’d ever mattered, literally giving him the words she wanted to hear. And all that Alfie’s tongue wanted to say was more promises of vengeance, of violence in her name, of destruction. 

She watched him struggle, her gaze even but tired. 

“Ask me to stay, Alfie. That’s all I need.”

The openness those words threatened to expose in Alfie Solomons felt like a lit bomb nestled in the cage of his ribs. He choked on the air in his lungs. Come on, you fucker, he thought viciously as he struggled to press back on the urge to run. 

She watched and waited. Each moment, her shoulders sagged a bit more.

“Stay.”

It wasn’t exactly what she wanted, and Alfie spat the word out as if it had poison between its letters. But was it close enough? 

Her heart thought so. She felt a softness take root there, a shred of hope. 

Yes, it was enough. 

She gave Alfie Solomons a soft smile. The way he crumbled at the sight told her enough about his feelings for her. Even if he couldn’t put them into words, she could see the love that she was so desperate to excavate from wherever he stored away the fragile parts of himself.

“That’s enough,” she told him sweetly, lifting a hand to cradle the side of his face. For the first time in seven years, she let herself relax into a man’s touch as Alfie’s fingers found hers…

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Hello madam.

7.  “Oh my god, I don’t think I’ve ever come so hard!”

With our feral Alfie of course.

🥰🥰

Can do, love!

Smut below the cut, minors DNI!

To have him rucked deep inside you, while the morning is still lazy, quiet, and still, is the greatest of pleasures. Only the sound of rain softly pattering against the windowpanes is audible above the soft moans, Alfie's occasional deep, lustful rumble adding bass tones, his mouth gliding up your neck in slow exploration.

You cry out, and his kisses suck the breath from you, the tempo slow and rolling, no urgency, nothing fervid. It's like this with him more often than one would expect, the want and need for each other an unhurried chartering into the languidly erotic.

His big body fucks you deep into the mattress, the repeated grinding against your clit making sparks skitter, your hands clasping at the wide planes of his mountainous back, tits heaving beneath the crush of his thick chest. Taking your wrists, he pins your arms, sinking into you deeper, teeth grazing a spot on your neck that evokes the most blissful of glimmers.

It's rolling through you, gaining momentum as the rush hits hard, knocking you sideways, your flutters milking his cock until it jerks and floods you with cum, leaving you as mindless as you are breathless.

"Fucking hell," you pant, finally opening your eyes to see him smirking above you, soft kisses peppering your cheeks as his hands glide down your arms, releasing where he's had them pinned above your head. “Oh my god, I don’t think I’ve ever come so hard!”

He rumbles a chuckle, teeth nipping your jaw. "You always say that, until the next time, innit?"

You suppose he makes a valid point.

[numberonedukethomasapologist]

I think most of the batfam (except Jason and maybe steph) judge Duke on the snacks he makes

Tim: Duke what are you eating?

Duke: *holds up a pack of crushed dry Ramen with seasoning*

Tim: *a look of pure horror*

Alfred: and what type of sandwich would you like master Duke?

Duke: syurp sandwich please

Alfred: just syrup??

Duke: and peanut butter

Alfred: alright then??☺️

*Jason who was sitting at the counter*: I want one also Alfie, I haven't had a syrup sandwich in years😩

bruce: *checking in on Duke to make sure he's alright and see if he's asleep*

Duke: *sitting in the complete dark with only a computer light, under 2 blanket, with a shark themed bonnet eating a can of barbecue Vienna sausages* "😶"

Bruce: ... *closes the door slowly*

[erinwantstowrite]

what would be the reaction of each one of the bats to peter hugging them out of the blue ?

i actually have an entire page in my notebook dedicated to keeping track of this (mostly it was a prompt to get in the writing mood but now it's a reference)

Dick: obviously met with joy and an immediate hug back, they will not be letting go until 30 minutes later. he is crying but trying not to let Peter tell that he is. yes he does this nearly every time

Bruce: i think he would cry. Bruce doesn't cry often (in front of people at least) but if this happened he would get all teary eyed. mostly because he's thinking back to when Dick was that age and he would hug Bruce + he knows it's a big sign of trust if Peter is hugging you. he'd also hug Peter back but it'd take him a second to figure out what's going on

Jason: freezes for long enough that Peter pulls away and says 'sorry.' this happens a few times before Jason is used to it and he hugs Peter back. he also now has to make up for how he reacted before so Peter's the only one allowed to hug him for more than five seconds (I hc that Jay isn't great with physical affection like he was Before but he does like physical affection.)

Tim: he's used to Dick's random hugs so while he wasn't expecting it the first time and he took a second, he gets the hang of this very fast and he hugs Peter back every time

Steph: absolutely overjoyed. she'll be confused but she's the one who hugs him back and swings him around. she will continue to be happy for the rest of the day. she's more used to Peter hugs (1. because of Dick, just like Tim but also 2. because Peter isn't as hesitant around her).

Duke: confusion, awkward hug with a pat on the back the first few times. the more hugs he gets, the more comfortable he is with it. the first hug = "If anything happens to this kid I will end the world as we know it." and by the fourth surprise hug Duke has learned to hug Peter first

Cass: she's not surprised at all. she knew it would be coming and by the time Peter figures out he wants to hug her, she's opened her arms. i think Cass would love gentle hugs for herself, but often knows what type of hugs other people need/like best. like sometimes you just need a hug that crushes you a little bit and other times you just want someone there. Cass has it figured out

Dami: SWEARS that Peter is being so weird and so awful but the longer he's away from the League and the more he hangs out with his family the more he understands that he likes physical affection. He hugs Peter back but it's hesitant the first few times. Later on, though, Dami accepts and gives hugs. and if Dami is sitting on the couch Peter will flop onto the couch with his entire body weight. Dami promises to kill him every time but never goes through with it. they'll chill there for a little bit. classic sibling bothering.

Babs: has been used to hugs from Dick for a while, but she's surprised to realize that Peter trusts her that much. that's also when she realizes how much she cares about him and, like Duke, decides that if anything happened to Peter, she'd make someone rue the day

Alfred: just like with all of his grandchildren, Alfie doesn't initiate the hug first. but they know that if they want a hug, Alfie's there for them.

[lordstormageddidnt]

Not gonna lie, I do get a little bit of a superiority complex when I listen to those like "I am so in love with you and it's humiliating and painful" songs. Like damn that sounds terrible, thank god for aromanticism

[kamii-2]

accidentally posted it, please tell me if this isn’t want you wanted but anyway i hope you enjoy!! (this fic is NOT based off of any recent lives, it’s completely made up!)

warning(s): cussing, smoking/getting high, kissing

genre: fluff & slight suggestiveness

pairing(s): jana el alfy x reader

==================================

it was 4:00 pm and you were super bored, all of your apps were dry as fuck. the last app on your phone was instagram, so you got on it and looked at the story section. it said kk was live so you decided to join to see what she was up to and to see if your crush of 2 months was with her. when you joined kk was sitting on the couch with aubrey, reading comments and being dumb. “oh my gosh y/n is here, hi y/n!” she gasped out while catching a glimpse of your username while reading comments. “i didn’t even say anything yet.” you typed out in the chat, everyone was saying your name by now. people knew you because you’re friends with the entire uconn team so you were really shocked when everyone was happy to see you. “hi y/n!” aubrey said while waving at the phone, “hiiiii” you typed in the chat.

you listened to kk and aubrey talk about random stuff and a few oreja tema members say hi to the live for a good 10 minutes before you requested to join. “kk add me” you repeated in the chat until she finally added you. “hi guys.” you said with a wave, “hi y/n!” kk yelled, dragging the last part of your name. you, kk, and aubrey talked about a bunch of random stuff. you talked about school, sports, eachother, and more. when you guys were in the middle of a conversation, kk yelled really loud “HI JANA!” causing you to look at her like she was crazy (and wait for jana to show herself), aubrey to side eye her, and jana to say ‘hi’ the same way kk did.

“who are you guys talking to?” jana asked from behind the phone, “y/n.” aubrey answered while reading the live comments. you and the viewers couldn’t see but jana started to blush at the mention of your name. kk snd aubrey gave eachother a knowing look, “jana come sit down with us.” kk said while patting the empty spot in between her and aubrey while smiling. “okay wait.” she said as she ran to the bathroom to make sure she looked good for you. when she came back you and aubrey were yelling at eachother and being loud, jana came and sat down in the middle and the live started to go crazy.

@user6234: JANAAAAAA

@user1032: WHERES PAIGE?

@user4: why is jana so red

@user87: HI JANA

@user153: does jana have a crush on y/n?

jana was reading the comments and replying to some of them, ignoring he ones about you and her. as you and kk talked, jana admired you and thought about how pretty you were. this obviously didn’t go unnoticed by the viewers and aubrey, kk wasn’t paying much attention to jana. the ask thing was happening to you, you were searching jana every time you weren’t being talked to, fans talking about it in the comments but everyone chose to ignore them. kk and aubrey noticed everything that was happening during the live and were definitely going to concoct a plan after the live ended. at some point you and jana had a conversation and the whole time you guys flirted and she was blushing and you were clearly flustered by the way you were talking to her. fans were talking about it in the comments and you knew for a fact that there was gonna be edits and other videos about the two of you.

at 6:34 pm kk’s phone died so the live ended. “jana you need to ask y/n out or something, you both clearly like the other and you two were flirting like crazy the entire time. even the comments know you two like the other.” kk said the moment she came back from her room after plugging her phone in, aubrey agreeing with kk. “i want her but we don’t talk enough. i want to get to know her before i date her.” jana admitted whike looking down at her hands. “okay, just wait.” kk said while walking back into her room. “what is that supposed to mean?” jana said as her head shot up, “dude what does that mean.” jana yelled to kk, confused on what she meant. “you’ll find out eventually, just give me a couple weeks or so.” kk yelled back.

you were sitting in your bed watching tiktok when you got a text from kk basically saying the same thing she said to jana. you sighed and replied the same was jana did, you obviously knew jana but you guys weren’t friends, you two were just acquaintances, and kk was determined to change it.

-

it was about a week after the live and you and jana had been talking a lot more than before. texting almost ever day, calling every so often, coming over to hang out with her, one day you guys even got high together. the only reason you two got closer was because of kk, she would encourage both of you to talk and she was so happy when she seen you guys hanging out by yourselves with no one else around. while you were getting ready to go over to jana’s dorm you got a notification that kk was live so you decided to join as you put on your shoes. when you joined you seen paige and kk with the phone set up on the kitchen counter while they were in the living room messing around. you seen jana sitting on the couch next to kayla and they were on jana’s phone watching tiktok and laughing. you left the live and got all of your belongings, heading out of the apartment complex to their dorm.

you parked your car and made your way up to the dorm. as you got closer to the door you heard a lot of yelling, you texted jana and told her you were walking down the hallway to the dorm and she replied immediately, goign to the door and opening it for you. “hi y/n.” she did and she hugged you, “hi.” you replied back while hugging her back. yoi guys went and sat on the couch, jana in between you and kayla. “what you you guys doing?” you asked jana and kayla as you leaned over her shoulder and looked at her phone. “watching kk edits.” jana said as she kept scrolling, you sat back on the couch and scrolled on your phone when you heard kayla gasp, you looked over and jana was slightly blushing looking at her phone. you couldn’t see what it said but it was a screenshot of you and jana smiling at each other on live. you were confused but decided to just ignore it.

as the night went on everyone was messing around and being loud, they were dancing, singing, bullying each other, and fake fighting. jana leaned over and whispered in your ear, “wanna go get high?” she asked as you immediately nodded, jana stood up and grabbed your hand and took you to her bed room. the live seen this and started to got crazy. the team also seen this, paige muted the live and laid it down so it was facing the ceiling. “are they really about to fuck?” kk asked in disbelief, “i don’t know about fucking but probably something close to it.” kayla said while giggling. “i don’t know what’s going on but the live definitely seen and tiktok is gonna go crazy.” morgan said as ayanna agreed, “i guess we’ll find out soon.” ice laughed and she sat the phone back up and unmuted the mic.

-

you two were passing the blunt back and forth while talking about life, telling random stories and reminiscing about school. her led lights were on purple, the fan was on, and sativa by jhené aiko was on, volume low enough for nobody else but you two to hear. “i wish i could get high every day.” you said while passing the blunt back to her. “me too.” she agreed while taking a long hit, “i mean who said we can’t?” she smiled while passing it back. “do you want to die at 25?” you joked while putting the roach in the ashtray, “edibles.” she replied with a smug tone. “true.” you replied as the rook went silent. the only thing you could hear was the blowing of the fan and the faint sound of the song playing.

you were looking down at your hands while jana was staring at you, “what?” you looked uo and asked the taller girl, “you’re so pretty.” she admitted while staring at you still, you smiled at her words, “thank you, you’re pretty too.” you told her while leaning back a little, resting on your elbows. “y’know y/n, i’ve thought you were pretty for a long ass time but i was too scared to admit it. i’ve wanted you since i first seen you but we didn’t really talk until kk basically forced me to talk to you.” she told you as she scanned your facial expressions and body language to see how you felt. “i feel the same way and the reason we are even talking eight now is because of kk.” you told her as you slowing leaned in, jana realized what was going on and immediately closed the gap, your hands flew to her face as her hands went down to your waist, pulling you onto her lap to straddle her.

-

moans was the only thing the rest of the team heard, you and jana were too high to try and hide what you two were doing. the live ended the moment you moaned the first time, kk screamed so loud to attempt to cover it up then abruptly ended the live. “oh. my. God.” was the first thing azzi said as she walked in the dorm and heard you moaning. “i come back and that’s the first thing i hear.” she said with wide eyes, “i was on live and y/n moaned really loud and i think the live heard.” kk says while cracking the fuck up. “never in my life did i think that they would be the type to fuck that loud with a bunch of people home and when people are on live.” ayanna said while still in shock at the fact that you guys were really doing it.

about 5 minutes later you and jana were sitting on her bed, looking rough. “damn jana.” is all you could say while you were still kind of catching your breath, “are you ready to get bullied?” jana asked as she stood up from the bed. “yep.” you unenthusiastically replied, standing up with her. the moment the door opened you heard kk laughing, “damn were yall smoking too?” aubrey said as she looked at your eyes and the smell of weed came from the room, “what do you think?” jana replied while walking to the bathroom, leaving you alone with the rest of the team and kayla, “so.. what’s new?” you asked as you went and sat on the couch. “we should be asking you that question.” ice replied.

as the night went on you guys just kept messing around and you and jana kept getting bullied. at around 10 at night you went home, when you walked into your apartment you immediately got ready for bed. by now your highness was barely there but you were still in the clouds, you couldn’t sleep because you were too busy thinking about jana and what happened earlier. you were thinking about ways to ask her out but you weren’t sure when or how so instead of sleeping you stayed up until 11:30 texting kk on how to ask out jana. when you woke up you had a few messages from jana, one saying that you two needed to talk and another telling you that she was coming over soon. you got up from your bed and changed and fixed yourself up a bit, you would take a shower later.

10 minutes later there was a knock on your door so you opened it and jana walked right in and shut the door. “y/n i’ve liked you since i first seen you, and last night made me realize that i need to ask you out like now, so that’s what i’m doing. y/n will you please be my girlfriend?” jana asked, very clearly nervous. “yes jana i will.” you replied fast as ever and gave her a hug. “can i kiss you?” she asked while hugging you tightly, “yes, please do.” you answered as she pulled away and gave you a long and loving kiss.

==================================

yall i really don’t know how to write asking out scenes, anyway i hope you enjoyed and i hope you have a good day/night, love you 💋💋

[his-saiko]

Is it weird? Am I weird?

I see a man shirtless and I think "wow, looks good."

Then I see this man move and "my god his form 🫦"