#it feels like they knew that people would easily miss the message and miss the takeaway and that’s why ruby is there and why her reactions

[quietwingsinthesky]

i feel your pain about dot and bubble 😭😭😭 white people understand the worlds most obvious race allegory and racism challenge (impossible)

It Was Not Subtle. Jesus Christ.

ive typed out like four or five different paragraphs about it and deleted them because i just can’t put into words the experience of watching that episode After knowing how everyone reacted to it on airing. there was some part of me that was being overly generous in thinking that Maybe there really was something missable about this, but i’ve seen it now. it’s. you can’t. you can’t possibly miss it. it’s there from minute one and it’s so viscerally uncomfortable being Stuck with lindy while she constantly insults the doctor and ignores him and. god. god.

i think it was the right choice, for the episode, to stage it from lindy’s pov. but i’m also so so aware that it’s putting things from her perspective that’s got to be making some people just. able to be willfully ignorant about it. and i think the sudden wave of ricky september love is the most telling bit because. the thing about ricky. is that lindy likes him. is that he saves her. is that he’s kind and reassuring and sweet to her.

and the thing about ricky is that the one time we see him interact with the doctor. he can’t even look at him except for the one moment where he’s telling the doctor to stop being condescending to him. the same way lindy did earlier.

at the end, it’s very easy for people to turn on lindy. ‘yeah, of course, lindy’s a bitch, lindy’s racist, we all see that now! unlike ricky, who would have changed.’ it feels like. people very easily could cut themselves off from the nasty parts of lindy, proclaim Well, I Would Never Be Like Her, while refusing to acknowledge that they are still empathizing mainly with her and her pov. just pretending that that pov can be taken away from her racism. does that make sense? i’m not sure i’m wording it correctly.

because the episode i watched, i know that last scene wouldn’t have changed if it was lindy or ricky there. the only difference would be that ricky wouldn’t look at the doctor while he was telling him it was his duty to save them but that he was not one of them. lindy was bold enough in her ignorance and hatred to not care. so. idk. closing thoughts, tldr, what a good fucking episode. shame about the people who think the only thing you have to do to not be racist is to be ashamed and aware of it as you continue on acting the same way you would have before.

[itneverendshere]

played me like a clarinet - rafe cameron (three) - finale

request: "Desperately-on my knees-begging for a ''She's all that'' from 1999, with Popular Rafe x Reader. Ooouff, and you want that soul crushing heartbreak when she finds out about the bet he had made" pairing: rafe x smart!nerdy!reader. warnings: more angst <3; part one here; part two

Staying away from Rafe was hard.

It was hard before you two tried to be friends and it’s even harder now that you gave him the no-contact ultimatum. Everywhere you went, it felt like he was there, even if he wasn’t. It was in the songs that played on the radio, in the way the sun set over the patio near your dorm, in the way his, now yours, shirts still smelled like him. 

You missed the late-night conversations, the way he’d laugh at your jokes, and how he could read you better than anyone else. But more than anything, you missed the way he made you feel—even if it wasn’t real at first. 

Every time your phone buzzed, you stupidly hoped it was him, even though you knew it wouldn’t be. You’d told him to stop, to leave you alone, and he had respected your boundaries even when it seemed like the last thing he wanted to do. And you’re proud of him for it—for once, he’s doing something right. But you’re mostly proud of yourself too, for sticking to your decision, for not letting him back in so easily.

Still, it doesn’t make it any easier.

You thought giving yourself space would help you move on, help you figure out if you could ever really trust him again. But instead, it just left this space where he used to be. You kept wondering how much of it was real for him—if any of it was. Maybe that’s why staying away felt impossible because a part of you wanted to believe he meant some of it, that his feelings weren’t just part of some game. 

You had to draw the line, to protect yourself from getting hurt all over again. And even though it hurt to keep him out, you knew it was the only way you’d figure out what you really wanted, without him clouding your judgment.

You tried to move on.

Slowly, cautiously, you started going on dates—nothing serious, just enough to remind yourself that there were other people out there, that Rafe wasn’t the only guy who could make you laugh or feel special. Every few weeks, you’d let yourself get dressed up, put on a smile, and meet someone new.

The first date was awkward, more like a practice run than anything else. You spent most of it comparing the guy to Rafe, noticing all the little things that didn’t measure up. It wasn’t fair to the guy, but you couldn’t help it. He wasn’t Rafe, and that’s all you could focus on. You ended the night with a polite hug and a promise to text, but you knew you wouldn’t.

The second date was better, but not by much. The guy was nice, made you laugh a few times, but there was no spark, no connection that made you want to see him again. You tried to be present, to give him a chance, but your mind kept drifting back to Rafe, to what he would say or how he would react to something. By the end of the night, you felt more exhausted than excited.

After that, you took a break. It was too soon, you told yourself. You weren’t ready to move on yet, and that was okay. 

Some days, you almost reached out to him. You’d pick up your phone, scroll through your messages, and your finger would hover over his name. It would be so easy to send a quick text, something casual, just to see how he was doing. But you never did. You knew that one message could ruinl everything you’d worked so hard to build—the distance, the boundaries, the fragile sense of self you were trying to protect.

Instead, you threw yourself into other things. Classes, the cheer squad, hobbies, anything to keep your mind occupied. You spent more time with friends, even though it was hard not to talk about him. You kept the conversations light, steering away from anything that would bring his name up. You didn’t want to be that person who couldn’t stop talking about their ex, who couldn’t let go, even if that’s exactly how you felt inside.

It helped, sometimes.

For brief moments, you’d find yourself genuinely laughing at a joke or losing yourself in a book or a project. But then something small would happen—a song on the radio, a glimpse of someone who looked like him, or the sound of his name in passing—and it would all come rushing back. It wasn’t fair. 

You’d think you’d be used to it by now, but each time it felt like a fresh wound. The memory of his laughter, the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled, the way he always knew just what to say—it was as if he left a ghost behind, haunting every corner of your life. And in those moments when you’d catch yourself smiling or feeling light, it was like a betrayal. How could you allow yourself to feel joy when he wasn’t there to share it?

It was like trying to run from a shadow that moved with you, always there, no matter how fast you tried to go.

Every time you thought about him, about how he had hurt you and how you were struggling to move on, it felt like stabbing at an old wound, hoping it would heal faster if you just made it worse. The reality was that you missed him in ways you weren’t ready to admit.

Running into him was inevitable. Despite your best efforts to avoid the places he might be, your college was too small, too intertwined with memories of him.

The first time you saw him after the ultimatum was at a party you had reluctantly agreed to attend. You spotted him across the room, laughing with his friends, looking just as carefree as ever. Your heart twisted painfully in your chest, and for a moment, you felt stuck to the ground. But then he looked up, his eyes meeting yours, and the smile slipped from his face.

It was a small moment, one that no one else seemed to notice, but it felt like the all the air in your lungs had been sucked out. You forced yourself to look away, to focus on the conversation happening around you, but it was impossible to ignore the feeling of his eyes on you.

The second time was worse.

You were at the grocery store, just trying to get through your day when you turned a corner and nearly collided with him. The shock of seeing him so close, so unexpectedly, made you want to disappear on the spot.

You both mumbled awkward apologies, neither of you really saying anything of substance, just trying to avoid the awkwardness. But then he asked how you were.

“I’m fine,” you replied, too quickly, too sharply. The lie tasted bitter on your tongue.

He nodded, and for a moment, it looked like he wanted to say more, to reach out and touch you, but he didn’t. You both stood there, trapped in a painful silence, before you finally made an excuse and walked away, leaving him standing there in the aisle.

After that, the encounters became more frequent. You saw him at the beach, in coffee shops, passing by on the street. Each time, it was the same—an awkward exchange, a few forced pleasantries, and then a quick retreat. It was like the universe was conspiring against you, refusing to give you the space you so desperately needed.

And each time, it hurt just a little bit more. Seeing him in these mundane, everyday moments, like nothing had changed, made it harder to keep up the distance you’d built. It reminded you of all the times when being around him had felt natural, easy, like he was just supposed to be there.

But the worst part was the way he looked at you. Jessica had told you before. He’d never looked at any girl like that. And you stupidly held onto that tiny hope even if you shouldn’t. 

You’d been trying to keep it together all night, but the sight of Jessica and Tyler laughing together, so effortlessly in love, was making you bleed inside. The drinks kept coming, one after another, until the room started to blur around you. You didn’t even notice how much you were drinking—only that it was easier to keep swallowing than to think about Rafe. 

But the alcohol wasn’t enough to quiet your thoughts.

Instead, it seemed to amplify them, making everything feel sharper, more painful. Jessica and Tyler’s whispered words of affection, the way his hand rested on her thigh, the way she looked at him with pure adoration—You couldn’t stop thinking about how that should have been you and Rafe.  

By the time you realized you were too far gone, it was late. You stumbled as you stood up, the room spinning wildly around you. Someone—Jessica, maybe—asked if you were okay, but their voice was muffled, distant. You tried to nod, to say something reassuring, but your legs buckled beneath you, sending you crashing back into your chair.

"Whoa, easy there," Jessica’s voice was sharper now, filled with concern. She crouched down in front of you, her hands steadying you. “You’re not okay. We need to get you out of here.”

You tried to shake your head, to insist that you were fine, but the words wouldn’t come. The room was tilting, spinning, and you couldn’t focus on anything. Your vision was blurry, your limbs heavy, and you realized, with a sinking feeling, that you were too drunk to take care of yourself. You couldn’t even stand up, let alone make it home.

Panic started to set in. This wasn’t supposed to happen. You weren’t supposed to lose control like this. You weren’t supposed to need help.

“Jess… I’m fine…” The words slurred out of your mouth, but even you didn’t believe them.

“No, you’re not.” Jessica’s voice was firm now, almost authoritative. She glanced around, clearly trying to figure out what to do. The other girls were watching, their laughter fading into worried murmurs, “Baby, can you go and get her some water and sugar, please?”

She gently guided you to lean back, her hand on your shoulder to steady you. You tried to focus, tried to push through the fog in your mind, but everything was slipping away, your thoughts swirling together in a jumbled mess.

“Hey, stay with me, okay?” Her voice was softer now, almost pleading. She wasn’t just a concerned friend at this moment; she was scared. You’d never seen her like this before. 

“I—” You started, but the words tangled in your throat. You wanted to tell her that you were sorry, that you didn’t mean to ruin the night, that you just wanted to stop thinking about him for a couple of hours, but all that came out was a garbled sound that barely resembled a word.

“Shh, it’s okay,” she soothed, her thumb brushing lightly against your arm. “We’ll get you out of here. It’s gonna be okay.”

Tyler returned with the water and sugar, and Jessica took the glass, trying to get you to drink. The water felt cool against your lips, but swallowing was harder than it should’ve been. You could feel yourself teetering on the edge of consciousness.

“Come on, just a little more,” Jessica urged. You managed a few more sips before the glass slipped from your grasp, water sloshing onto your lap.

“Jess, I—” You tried again, but before you could finish, you heard another voice, one that sent a jolt through your foggy mind.

He was there, right in front of you, and you knew it was him without needing to open your eyes.

“Jesus Christ,” you heard him mutter. He crouched down, gently lifting your chin so you were forced to meet his eyes. “What the hell happened?”

“She had too much to drink,” Jessica explained quickly, her tone defensive, as if she expected him to start blaming her. “We were just about to get her out of here.”

You tried to smile, to play it off like it was no big deal, but all that came out was a shaky breath. “Too much… too much, Rafe…”

“I can see that,” he said, his tone softening as he brushed a strand of hair from your face. He turned to Jessica, his voice all business now. 

You didn’t know how long he had been standing there. Was your brain torturing you? Making you believe he was there?

His jaw tightened, but he didn’t argue. Instead, he knelt down beside you, his hands grabbing your trembling ones. “Hey,” he said, his voice softer now, as if he was afraid you might break into pieces if he spoke too loudly. “I’m gonna get you home, okay?”

You wanted to say no, to tell him that you didn’t need him, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, you just nodded, too tired and too dizzy to fight it.

He exchanged a look with Jessica and she sighed, her worry morphing into something closer to relief. “I’ll help you get her to the car.”

Your legs were useless, and you sagged heavily against his chest. He didn’t hesitate, scooping you up in his arms like you weighed nothing, cradling you against him. His scent surrounded you, familiar and comforting, and despite everything, you found yourself leaning into him, letting your head rest against his shoulder.

“I’ve got you,” he murmured, his breath warm against your temple. “I’m gonna get you out of here, okay?”

You nodded weakly, too exhausted to argue. Your eyes fluttered shut as he carried you out, the sounds of the party fading away behind you.

The ride to your dorm was a blur. 

You were vaguely aware of Rafe’s arm around you, of Jessica sitting on your other side, rubbing your back in small circles. The motion of the car made your stomach churn, and you had to close your eyes to keep from getting sick. Uber or not, you weren’t about to ruin someone else’s car. 

When you finally arrived, he practically carried you inside while Jess fumbled with your keys before pushing the door open.

He led you to your bed, easing you down onto the mattress.

“I’ll stay with her,” he muttered, his voice leaving no room for argument. Jessica hesitated, looking between the two of you, before nodding slowly.

“Call me if you need anything,” she said to Rafe, squeezing his arm before she left.

You were barely aware of her leaving, still too drunk to process much of anything. He knelt down beside your bed, brushing a stray hair from your face. 

“You’re gonna be okay,” he murmured, his voice a soothing lullaby.

You wanted to say something, to tell him that you didn’t need him, that you were fine on your own.

You felt your bottom lip tremble. 

He noticed the change immediately, his blue eyes softening as he continued to gently brush the hair from your face. “Hey, it’s okay,” he whispered, his thumb lightly tracing the curve of your jaw. “Just breathe.”

But that only made it worse. You could feel the tears welling up as you realized just how much you’d missed this—missed him. The safety of his presence, the way he always seemed to know what you needed before you did.

Your stomach churned, the nausea that had been building since you first sat in the car finally reaching a breaking point.

“Rafe,” you mumbled, your voice weak and shaky, “I think I’m gonna—”

He reacted instantly, his arms tightening around you as he quickly looked the room. “Okay, okay, just breathe,” he said, “You’re gonn be fine.”

But breathing was the last thing on your mind as the room started spinning faster. You tried to push away from him, your hand gripping his shirt as you fought to keep it down.

“Rafe, I need to throw up,” you managed to gasp, panic rising in your chest.

He didn’t hesitate, scooping you up from the bed and hurrying toward the bathroom. You barely registered the fact he was touching you again after so long, your mind solely focused on the nausea.

He got you to the bathroom just in time, guiding you to the toilet as you collapsed in front of it. He held your hair back with one hand, the other rubbing soothing circles on your back as you retched, the sound of it echoing harshly in the small space.

“It’s okay, I’m right here,” he murmured, grounding you as you emptied your stomach. You could feel the heat of his hand on your back, the gentle way he kept your hair out of the way.

When it was over, you slumped against the cool porcelain, too exhausted to care about anything other than the relief of having the nausea finally subside. Rafe handed you a damp washcloth, and you pressed it against your face, the coolness soothing against your overheated skin.

“Better?” he asked softly, crouching down beside you. 

You nodded weakly, unable to meet his eyes. “Yeah,” you whispered, your voice hoarse. “Thanks.”

He didn’t say anything, just stayed close, while you avoided his gaze entirely. The room was quiet now, the only sound the slow, steady rhythm of your breathing as you tried to regain some control.

“I’m sorry.”

You felt embarrassed, and vulnerable in a way you hadn’t expected, and you hated every second of it.

“Stop apologizing,” Rafe said gently, his hand still resting on your back. 

“Can you… can you stay over?” 

You didn’t want to be alone, not tonight, not with the way your heart was aching.

Rafe’s eyes softened, the way they did only for you, and for a moment, you thought he might agree, that he might stay and help you forget, even just for a little while. 

But then he shook his head, his expression pained.

“I can’t,” he said, his voice strained, like it hurt him to say it. “You know I can’t, sweets.”

You tried to hold it together, but it was no use. Before you could stop yourself, you were crying—quiet, heartbreaking sobs that you couldn’t control.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered as he reached out, brushing the tears from your cheeks, but it only made you cry harder. “I’m so sorry.”

You couldn’t even respond, the words tangled up in your throat. It wasn’t just that he wouldn’t stay; it was everything—the confusion, the heartbreak, the way you felt like you were losing him all over again, even though he was right there in front of you.

“Please don’t cry,” Rafe pleaded, his voice breaking. He pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly against him. “I hate seeing you like this.”

You buried your face in his chest, the sobs shaking your entire body. The warmth of his touch, the familiar scent of him—it was too much, too close to everything you’d been trying to avoid. But you couldn’t pull away. You didn’t want to.

“I just… I just miss you,” you choked out, the words spilling from you in a broken whisper. “I miss you so much, Rafe.”

“I know,” he murmured, his voice cracking. “I miss you too.”

You clung to him, your fingers gripping his shirt like it was the only thing keeping him from disappearing. The tears wouldn’t stop, and neither would the ache in your chest, the one that had been there ever since you’d forced yourself to let him go.

“I wish things were different,” his usually bright eyes were dimmed, his brows drew together as if he was in pain. He looked at you like he was memorizing every detail, like he was afraid this might be the last time, “I keep hurting you.”

His hands trembled slightly as he pulled back just enough to look at you, his touch gentle as his fingers cradled your face. His thumbs brushed away the tears again, but they kept coming, fresh and spilling over. His lips parted as if he wanted to say something, but all that came out was a ragged breath.

“Please don’t hate me more for this,” he whispered, his voice rough, barely holding back. His eyes searched yours, desperate for reassurance, for something to cling to in this moment that felt like it was tearing you both apart.

“I could never hate you,” you whispered back, the words catching in your throat as the tears continued to fall. It hurt to say it, to admit it out loud.

He left that night.

You had almost convinced yourself that it was better this way, that moving on, that he did you a favor that night by leaving, that keeping him out of your life was the only solution. 

Staying away from you was killing him. 

⁀➷ೃ⁀➷ೃ⁀➷ೃ⁀➷⁀➷ೃ⁀➷ೃ⁀➷ೃ⁀➷⁀➷ೃ⁀➷ೃ⁀➷ೃ⁀➷⁀➷ೃ

Rafe spent his days trying to distract himself, throwing himself into his studies for the first time in his life, into parties, into anything that would take his mind off you. 

But nothing worked. Every time he saw something that reminded him of you, it was like a punch to the gut—a song you liked, a place you used to go together, even the smell of the ocean would bring memories crashing back. He missed you so much it hurt.

And when he saw you, it was even worse. The first time he ran into you after the break, it felt like the world had stopped spinning. He was at a party, trying to forget, trying to lose himself in the noise and the crowd, when he saw you across the room. For a moment, he thought he was imagining it, that his mind was playing tricks on him. But then your eyes met his, and his heart almost stopped.

You were as beautiful as ever, maybe even more so, but there was something different about you—something guarded, distant. But before he could even think about crossing the room to talk to you, you looked away, your expression closing off, leaving him standing there like an idiot, staring after you. 

He’d told you he’d wait for you and he intended on keeping that promise. He couldn’t stop imagining what it would be like to have you back, to hold you, to tell you how much he loved you, how sorry he was. He’d never felt this way about anyone before, never been this wrecked over a girl, but you weren’t just any girl. 

Rafe had never been good at groveling, at admitting he was wrong, but for you, he’d do anything. He’d get on his knees and beg if that’s what it took. He didn’t care about his pride anymore, not when it meant losing you. He was willing to do whatever it took to make things right, to prove to you that he was serious, that he loved you more than he ever thought possible.

But every time he saw you, he felt that hope slipping further away. The look in your eyes, the way you avoided him, it all felt like a final nail in the coffin. And yet, he couldn’t let go, couldn’t stop himself from yearning for you, from wanting you back in his life. He was going out of his mind, torn between respecting your wishes and fighting for you with everything he had.

Rafe knew he had to do something different, something that would show you just how much he had changed. The problem was, he didn't know what that was. He needed to find a way to prove to you that he was serious, that he was willing to put in the work to make things right.

So he started small.

He stopped going to parties, and stopped trying to drown out his feelings in distractions. Instead, he focused on becoming the person he thought you deserved—the person he knew he could be if he just tried. He started paying more attention in class, showing up on time, and actually studying. He even started volunteering, something he’d never done before, just to keep his mind occupied with something productive, something that wasn’t about him for once.

But the real change came when he began working on himself. He started seeing a therapist, something he’d always scoffed at before. He had a lot of baggage, a lot of unresolved issues that had driven him to hurt you in the first place, and he knew he needed to work through them if he ever wanted to be good enough for you.

It wasn’t easy. Therapy forced him to confront things he’d buried deep, things he’d avoided dealing with for years. Family trauma and all. But he stuck with it, because he knew it was the only way to get better, to be the kind of man you could trust again.

Slowly, he started to see changes in himself. He was more patient, more understanding, and more aware of how his actions affected others. He didn’t expect you to notice any of it—he was doing it for himself as much as for you—but he hoped that maybe, just maybe, you’d see that he was trying.

And then he had to pick you up that night.

He had never seen you drunk before, you’d always preferred your fruity punch over any other alcoholic drink. He’d always known you as strong, independent, someone who could hold your own. Seeing you like that—broken, hurting—made something in him snap. Was this his fault? Had he done this to you? 

He knew he couldn’t stay that night. As much as it killed him to leave, he understood that this was part of growing too—the part where he learned to respect your boundaries, to give you space even when all he wanted was to hold you and never let go. You’d hate yourself the next day. He was doing you both a favor. 

The next morning, Rafe didn’t text or call. He wanted to give you time, to process everything without the pressure of him hovering. Instead, he threw himself back into his routine, keeping himself busy but always with you at the back of his mind. He wondered if you remembered anything from the night before—how close he’d come to breaking down when you asked him to stay, how it had taken every ounce of self-control to walk away from you again.

Days passed, and he didn’t hear from you. It felt like a new kind of torture, but he stayed strong, if this was part of the process then so be it, he needed to be patient. 

He didn’t want to push you, didn’t want to make you feel like you owed him anything. But he couldn’t stop hoping that maybe, just maybe, you were thinking about him too.

So when the call came that you were in the hospital, his heart nearly fell through his ass. He didn’t think, didn’t hesitate—he just went.

The thought of you being hurt, of something happening to you, was enough to make him speed over the legal limit. He needed to see you, to make sure you were okay, even if it was the last thing he did.

When he got there, his heart clenched tightly in his chest as he pushed through the doors of the hospital. He hated hospitals, hated everything about them—the smell, the sterile white walls. But none of that mattered now. All he could think about was you.

The nurse at the front desk directed him to your room, and he practically sprinted down the hallway, his mind racing with a thousand worst-case scenarios. He’d been too fucking anxious to ask if you were okay, as soon as your name and the word hospital registered, he was rushing over. When he finally reached your door, he paused, his hand hovering over the doorknob. What if you didn’t want to see him? What if you told him to leave?

But then he heard your pretty voice, soft and familiar. He pushed open the door and there you were, sitting up in the hospital bed with a sprained ankle, looking more frustrated than hurt. He breathed out in relief, so intensely it made his knees weak.

“Rafe?” you blurted out, your eyes widening in surprise as you saw him standing there. “What are you doing here?”

He took a step closer, “They called me. I’m still your emergency contact.”

“Oh,” you muttered, looking down at your hands. “I didn’t realize.”

He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. “Are you okay?”

You nodded, but he could see the tension in your shoulders, the way you were trying to hold it together. “It’s just a sprained ankle. Nothing serious. Did a little too much during practice."

Rafe nodded, but he didn’t move, didn’t say anything. He couldn’t. The sight of you in that hospital bed, even for something as minor as a sprained ankle killed him. 

“Hey,” you said softly, your voice pulling him out of his thoughts. “You don’t have to stay. I’m fine. Really.”

But he couldn’t leave. Not now, not when you were right in front of him, looking so small and vulnerable. He shook his head, his voice coming out rougher than before, “I’m not leaving.”

You blinked up at him, “But you don’t have to—”

“I’m not leaving,” he repeated, his voice firm. “I know you can handle yourself, but I’m staying.”

Surprisingly, you didn’t kick him out.  “Okay.”

He pulled up a chair beside your bed, settling in like he had no intention of going anywhere. The room was quiet, the only sound the faint beeping of the machines and the murmur of voices from the hallway outside. For a moment, neither of you said anything.  It was strange, being this close yet so far away from you. He glanced at you from the corner of his eye, taking in the way yours had softened, the way the lines of worry on your face were starting to smooth out. You looked tired like you’d been lacking sleep. He wished he could help, even if just for a little while.

“You know,” he said quietly, breaking the silence, “I used to think I was pretty good at taking care of myself. But then I met you, and I realized I’d never really let anyone take care of me before. Not like you did.”

“Rafe—”

“No, let me finish,” he interrupted gently, “I’m still here. I’ll always be here, even if all I can do is sit in a hospital room with you and make sure you’re okay.”

You looked down at your hands, a small, sad smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

“I missed you,” you whispered, the words so quiet he almost didn’t hear them.

His breath caught in his throat, his heart squeezing painfully at the admission. “I missed you too,” he replied, his voice thick with emotion.

“Thank you for that night.”

He shifted slightly in his chair, leaning a little closer, careful not to overwhelm you but needing to be nearer all the same.

“I didn’t do anything special,” he murmured, though his mind replayed the events of that night. The helplessness he’d felt seeing you in that state, knowing there was little he could do to make it better. He hadn’t been sure then if you’d even wanted him there, but he’d helped you anyway. He couldn’t leave you, not when you needed someone—when you needed him.

“You were there,” a tear slipped down your cheek, and he instinctively reached out, his thumb gently wiping it away. The touch was soft, almost reverent, and it made your breath get stuck in your throat.  “That’s more than enough.”

You leaned into his touch for a moment, savoring the comfort it brought, even though it hurt to let yourself feel it, “Just glad you’re safe.”

“Why did you come?”

“Because I love you,” he admitted, tired of carrying the truth inside him, “I know I screwed up—God, I know that. But I’ve spent every day since trying to be better, trying to be the kind of man you deserve. And I know I have a long way to go, but I’m not giving up. Not on you. Not unless you ask me to.”

“You love me?”

Your voice sounded so meek, so unsure it made him want to punch himself in the face. This was entirely his doing. 

He nodded, his eyes never leaving yours. He looked nervous, and vulnerable, “Yeah,” he said, “I do. I’m in love with you, I just—” He hesitated, searching for the right words. “I didn’t know how to say it, or maybe I was too scared to. Didn’t want to make you think I was saying it to save my ass, y’know?”

You’d always wondered what it would be like to hear those words from him, to have him admit that he cared for you in the same way you cared for him. 

“I didn’t want to push you,” he continued, fingers intertwined, “But I couldn’t keep it in anymore. I couldn’t let you think that I didn’t care, that I didn’t want this, want you.”

You blinked, trying to process everything he was saying. This was the Rafe you’d always hoped for—the one who was honest and unafraid to show his emotions. But it was also the Rafe who had hurt you, who had made mistakes that left scars you weren’t sure had fully healed.

“Rafe, I—” you started, but the words caught in your throat.

“You don’t have to say it, sweets. It’s okay.”

“I’m scared,” you admitted, your voice shaking. “I’m scared of getting hurt again, of going back to that place where everything fell apart.”

He had changed—you could see it in the way he carried himself, in the way he spoke to you. He wasn’t the same Rafe who had hurt you.

"I’m not asking you to trust me right away," he continued, though there was a hint of desperation in it. "I know I need to earn that. But please, give me a chance to prove it. I don’t want to lose you again."

"You can’t wait for me forever.”

“I’d wait for you a lifetime. I told you,” His jaw clenched, the muscles in his neck tensing when he spoke, as if he was trying not to cry, “If you ever want me, I’m yours.”

His hands, usually so restless, were still now, resting on his knees as he leaned slightly forward in his chair. You saw the man he was trying to be—the man he wanted to be for you. He wasn’t perfect, not by a long shot, but he was trying. And that had to count for something.

“Even if I made you wait until we’re eighty and grey?”

Rafe let out a breathless laugh, the sound strained but genuine, “Even then,” he whispered, his voice barely above a breath. “You’re it for me.”

It scared you how much you wanted to believe him, how much you wanted to pull him into your arms and tell him that he was it for you too. He reached out, his hand hovering near yours, waiting for you to close the distance. You hesitated for only a moment before your fingers intertwined with his.  It felt right, like coming home after being lost for so long.

He squeezed your hand gently, his eyes searching yours for any sign of what you were thinking, feeling. He looked like he was holding his breath.

“I love you too.”

It was still scary, still uncertain, but you realized that nothing worth having ever came easy. And Rafe, with all his flaws and all his efforts to be better, was worth it.

He exhaled, his shoulders sagging in relief, “I don’t deserve you,” he said whispered, lips pressed against your fingers, “But I’m going to spend every day trying to. I swear, I’ll never stop trying.”

You closed your eyes, “You’re gonna make me cry.”

Rafe’s grip on your hand tightened, as if he could physically hold you together through sheer will alone. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—” he started, his voice panicked, but you shook your head, cutting him off.

“No, it’s okay,” you whispered, opening your eyes to meet his. “I just… it’s been a long time since I let myself feel this way.”

He nodded, his thumb gently brushing against the back of your hand in slow, soothing circles. “You don’t have to hold back with me. Not anymore. Whatever you’re feeling, it’s okay.”

The tears you’d been holding back spilled over, running down your cheeks. Rafe was there instantly, his other hand reaching up to gently cup your face, his thumb brushing away the tears with a tenderness that made your heart hurt.

“I’m so sorry,” his voice cracked, “For everything I put you through.”

You leaned into his touch, the warmth of his hand grounding you, giving you the strength to keep going. “I was so miserable Rafe,” you admitted, your voice trembling. “Scared that if I let you back in, I’d get hurt again. Scared that I’d lose you all over again.”

“I know,” he said, his forehead resting against yours, his breath mingling with yours in the small space between you. “And I promise you, I’m not going anywhere this time. I’m here, and I’m not going to let you down.”

“I want to try.”

Rafe’s breath hitched, and he pulled back slightly to look at you, his eyes searching yours as if he couldn’t  believe what he was hearing. “You do?”

You nodded, a small, tentative smile forming on your lips. “I do. But we need to take it slow, okay? I need time.”

“Of course,” he said quickly, his eyes bright with hope. “We’ll go as slow as you need. I don’t fucking care sweets, I’m not leaving.”

You weren’t just giving him another chance—you were giving yourself one too. A chance to heal, to forgive, and to find your way back to each other.

Rafe pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, lingering for a moment as if sealing the promise between you. “We’ve got this,” he murmured against your skin. “It’s you and me, okay?”

“You and me.”

Rafe’s eyes softened, and a genuine smile tugged at his lips, one that reached his eyes and made them crinkle at the corners. It was a smile you hadn’t seen in a long time, and seeing it made you want to bawl all over again. His hand cradled your cheek, his fingers tracing delicate circles on your jaw as his eyes locked onto yours, silently asking for permission, for forgiveness, for a chance to be close to you again. And when his lips finally brushed against yours, whatever pain you were feeling on your ankle disappeared. 

The kiss was soft, tentative at first, like he was afraid you might pull away, afraid to push too far too soon. But the moment your lips pressed back against his, that tentative touch deepened. Rafe’s hand slid to the back of your neck, pulling you closer as if he couldn’t stand to be apart from you even for a second. You could feel the desperation in the way his lips moved against yours, the way his breath hitched when you parted your lips to let him in.

Just as you were about to lose yourself in him, the door to your room swung open with a creak. You both froze, lips still touching, as someone cleared their throat.

You pulled away from each other reluctantly, your cheeks flushed, your breath coming in short, ragged gasps. Your eyes met Rafe’s and you saw the same blush of color on his face, the same love-sick expression that you were sure mirrored your own.

The doctor stood in the doorway, a clipboard in hand, a bemused smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “Well, I see you’re feeling better.”

Rafe cleared his throat, stepping back slightly, his hand still lingering on your arm as if he couldn’t bring himself to let go just yet. “Uh, yeah, she’s doing great,” he mumbled.

“You must be the boyfriend.”

You couldn’t help the grin that took over, “Yeah. He is.”

[gay-dorito-dust]

Could you please write sweet,subtle,cute things batboys+Bruce does when they are crushing on reader?

Dick

He wants to spend a lot of time with you. Literally.

He’s very much the kind of guy who wanted to see you smile and laugh with every interaction that you had with him, just so he could shamelessly memories both your laughter and smile to his memory long after the outing you both had was over.

He would make goofy remarks or recall a story from recent memory that he thought would make your day a bit brighter. Gotham was often a depressing city that could easily damper anyone’s mood with its lack of dramatic change to better the lives of the people who lived within the seemingly cursed town.

So seeing you happy and smiling was more than enough to keep Dick’s hopes up for a better future, hopefully for the both of you should you reciprocate his feelings. He’d gladly die knowing that the last thing he remembers was your laughter and smiling face, looking like an absolute angel in his eyes, but this was him just being a dramatic romantic who just wished to be the very reason you lived a relatively happy life.

Dick would use Hayley quite often when he wanted you to prolong your stay at his place, claiming she’s going to miss you greatly, when it was actually him who’d miss you the moment you walked out the door. After all who could say no to a cute doggy that looked up at you with thoughtless but happy to be there eyes. So it wasn’t uncommon that you and Dick would take Hayley out on walks together through a safe area where he would let Hayley off the leash, only to watch with a warmth blossoming within his chest as you and Hayley enjoyed each others company.

Dick would come to see you, himself and Hayley as a little family of your own making and would love nothing more than to have this become a common thing. Something he wished would become a thing of reality rather than a fantasy he’d visit within his sleep, but he can take what he can get for you being in his life was more then enough, even if there wasn’t a label to what you were to each other.

Another thing he would do was buy you things that he’d thought you’d like. Anything that he saw within a shop window that reminded Dick of you was already bought within minutes as he would then go on a hunt for more things to buy you for the sake of spoiling you for being his anchor and his person through thick and thin. It could be blankets, plushies or sweets that he knew you’d find comfort in it didn’t really matter as he’d treat you like the royalty you were in his mind, all the while getting you a silly card with a cleverly thought out pun that he would write an equally silly message within it, hoping it would become a keepsake to look back on with a sappy but warm feeling within your chest.

Bruce

Very giving but he would act like a real distinguished gentleman towards you.

Alfred raised him right that’s for fucking sure.

He’s the type to never let you pay for anything, always having his card in hand to hand off to the waiter, nor to place on the card reader in a retail store, before you has the chance to reach inside your purse/wallet. It didn’t help that he looked smug after paying for the things that you let your eyes linger a second too long upon.

The man didn’t fear for the loss of money in his bank for as soon as the money was spent, the money lost was quickly replenished within the blink of an eye. No exaggeration.

Bruce would only want to be a provider for you and the type of partner that you could feel safest with as he takes care of you and your needs first and foremost, all the while making sure to make your life a hell of a lot more easier as he helps you by helping you into your shoes, zipping up your coat when it’s cold and put gloves on your hands while stroking the backs of your hands gently; offering you his arm with a smile afterwards as he escorted you both out of the manor to attend a charity event that Wayne Enterprises was hosting.

He personally asks for you to company him to these such grand events as his plus one, even offering to buy you formal attire should you lack any in your wardrobe, or go ahead into buying you one regardless and giving it to you as a present just so he could see your raw reaction himself when you opened the box to see the high quality attire he had picked out for you. Ironically it matched his own attire but in the most subtle of ways that not many would spot unless they were actively looking.

The press have a field day with this as you were frequently seen on Wayne’s arm, so much so that they called you his secret spouse in the tabloids, not that you see them as serious though as the press will make anything up to get people to read their half baked stories.

Offers to drive you home all the time no matter what, it didn’t matter if your home was within walking distance Bruce didn’t feel it was necessary for you to walk alone home when he had a perfect car in excuse use to take you home instead. Just give him a text and he’ll come over within minutes, but even if you didn’t text him he’ll turn up anyway as though he knew where you’d be, and when asked about it he only shrugs and says that he was merely in the same place at the same time, you joked and said that he might’ve been tracking you and Bruce only cleared his throat as he drove you home.

Damian

He’s not so quick to anger when it comes to you, almost like your presence was all that was needed to reassure his mind and bring peace to it without needing to try.

No outbursts came your way at all that many thought you were the one person Damian would never yell at, and they were right but Damian would deny all of this, but even deep down he knew it was something he couldn’t deny forever not if he was going to confess his deepest feelings sooner or later.

He felt as though he could experience a normal life with you as he found himself confining in you with things that he didn’t tell anyone else. You were his safe space whether or not you were aware of it, and sooner or later Damian found himself smiling and laughing and enjoying life as he taught you how to draw.

He was patient with you, more then he ever was with anyone else as he taught you brush strokes, to knowing what type of pencil to use for effective shading along with shading techniques and which ones would make your sketches some more life to them. If it seemed as though you were struggling with his verbal instructions, he’ll use a fresh page in his sketch book and show you firsthand how to do it in a step by step manner, waiting for you to follow along his steps and smiling softly to himself when your finish sketch looked similar to his.

He’s happy that he’s made you happy, it’s not something he’s ever done but if it was just for you then he’ll do it again for the rest of his life.

He’ll even let you name an animal he found abandoned somewhere, letting you hold it in your hands and loving the image before him as you smiled down at the animal he found, handling it with uttermost care as though you were afraid of hurting them. Once you’ve given it a name, Damian will treasure it by always holding them against his chest wherever he could when the occasion arises, as they were the closest thing to you in this point and time. And he smiles every time he looks at them and feels a lightness within his chest.

He’ll use the little guy to have your constant company…not that he’ll ever admit to using such a tactic to anyone.

Jason

He’s a lot more lighthearted with you and playful, almost as if the boy he used to be was coming through.

He’s softer towards you also as he would always be the first to offer you help with whatever you needed without a second thought. He wanted to be helpful towards you, and so he would go out of his way and prove himself as such by doing small but meaningful things that he’d knew you’d appreciate greatly, whether that be getting your coat or reminding you of whether you were forgetting to take your mandatory medication. Literally anything you needed help with Jason will do it without being hesitation.

This then becomes him doing stuff on your behalf that he knew you didn’t like by memory because he remembered everything about you, from your likes to your dislikes, anything related to you he remembers it as though he had known for a long time.

He just wanted to show to you that he wasn’t what others perceived him to be, he didn’t want you to think of him as an angry, broken, hollow husk of a man who knew nothing but revenge and self destructive tendencies that left him feeling lonelier then ever.

Jason would offer up his apartment as your safe reprieve, you were allowed to enter his place whenever you please. He didn’t mind either way as your presence was a much welcomed one, for Jason had never had he felt comfortable in going home just to find you waiting for him with a smile, whether or not your good at cooking didn’t matter as he could easily cook you both up something, or you’d both go to the nearest fast food restaurant for some much needed greasy comfort food.

The domestic act of having you in his apartment constantly that sooner or later he’s seen that you’ve made the apartment even more like home to him, for it has traces of you scattered here and there and Jason couldn’t help but smile at seeing your touches made to his home that he could only wish that he could ask you to move into his apartment permanently. He knew he couldn’t ask that of you yet, especially not when he has still to confess to you.

He’s protective over you and was more then willing to scare off anyone that was doing your head in by overstepping your boundaries. So once they had left you alone Jason would look to you and ask whether you were okay in a soft tone. His eyes filled with concerned he holds you by the shoulders, looking you over incase you were hiding anything from him before moving forward, making sure that there was no one else to cause you problems for the rest of the day.

[writella]

Reckless Romantics

Synopsis: Can be read as a stand alone or part two to getting ready for me; a return to innocent, inexperienced!reader and her relationship with Rick Grimes; two weeks after their first time together there has been some distance, but now Rick wants to make up for how hasty he was when he touched her last.

Details: Rick Grimes x fem!reader, smut: oral (f receiving) and teaching reader how to give a handjob, unspecified (of age) age gap, sweetness + kissing + a little mutual pining maybe, probably cliche, and leaning more into Rick as the dutiful leader and gentle lover (I feel this is just as in character as dom!Rick). Reader is a music lover— any kind of music you like— but she also likes a specific band only because I watched a documentary about them at the theater in July so it made its way into the story. Slightly proofread— will be corrected more later. wc: 5-7k (I lost track after finishing it on tumblr).

A/N: I wrote this message before I returned for the summer, but I still want you to read it: Been spending time outside this summer, trying to reach some goals— time got away from me. I don’t think I’ll ever stop saying I miss you, but please know it’s always true.

— with love from writella, my beautiful reader. ♡

Rick Grimes was not a man to give in to temptation.

My mercy prevails over my wrath, he’d say— his secret keepsake phrase. The one he whispers to himself in moments of hardship; the one he uses when he needs to make decisions only a leader would. Rick was a man of discipline; honor. He never boasted about how seriously he took these qualities, but when others did— admired, applauded, stuck by him for it— it would be a lie to say that he didn’t take note and use their pride to keep him going. This is how he knows he is strong-willed, why he wouldn’t fall for foolish, forbidden things. He was better than that. The safety and prosperity he brought to Alexandria proved it, reaffirmed it.

So why couldn’t someone remind him of that two weeks ago before he touched you?

As for you, you believed yourself to be a girl who wouldn’t fall so easily for the first man who showed you any kind of affection.

From an adolescence of peers who never seemed to take notice of you to one filled with walkers and adults who were either dead or seldom your age, you learned how hard love, let alone any connection, is to come by. It has made you quite the perpetual daydreamer because of it. One with a heart and mind filled with fantasy worlds, creating what you lacked externally. It often made you see yourself as much younger than you were despite all you’ve been through. No regular person your age in the old world has probably escaped as many deaths and wannabe cowboy dictators as you have. Still, they probably knew what it was like to have a high school romance, or at least go to the movies with friends, and have graduated from well, anything. You were simply born too late and shoved into this new world too early to experience even half of it.

This upbringing has brought you up to believe yourself precocious, although— maybe you were already too old for that word now. No, you were, so maybe– sensible, realistic despite the overactive imagination; you could decipher between right and wrong, real versus fake. This is why, for as long as you could, you did not entertain any thoughts of Rick Grimes.

Other people would though, women mostly. But you did have your suspicions of others who thought the same— they just weren't as shameless. Those who were, could be found during lunch breaks from work on house porches; or laughing and whispering at community gatherings and at the back of town hall meetings. Basically any time or place they could turn into a gossip session, which was often. And it didn’t always have to do with Rick. It could be about any one of the men in town; or retelling funny moments to their friends or complaining about their co-workers. But anything of true, great interest always had to do with the community leaders. You wish you could say you were the exception to this interest, but hypocritically, you loved a good inside scoop, and luckily for you, you had a trustworthy way about you. Almost everyone who spoke to you or allowed you to sit with them and their friends for meals agreed: you were a intent, quiet listener making you the best kind of person to say things to without judgment; and people assumed you as shy, yet you loved to laugh which was great for boosting egos. They often treated you as a little sister in that way, as if the pleasure was all yours to get to hear their ramblings because they were either older or perceived themselves to be more sociable and experienced than you. You tried not to care too much about what they took you for. It was nice to feel trusted, even if people could be a little too mean or weird for your liking because no matter who it was, they made you feel as if you were watching television, and you missed television. They told you things from period mishaps– (it’s the apocalypse, there are a lot of free bleeding queens okay)— to which people in their workstations annoyed them most with very detailed explanations as to why and, of course, rumors or general talk about the leaders: who they thought each of them has slept with, if there seemed to be any fighting between them and what side they were taking, and obviously, anything that had to do with one of the guys. Some were downright obvious that one or the other was their type, while others might try to be more sly about it, always bringing whichever man it was up more than the others. But unless they were diehard Daryl girls, wanted to dominate Glenn, or had some military man, hot priest, or doctor kink for Abraham, Gabriel, or Siddiq, most of them apparently felt that Rick was the love of their lives. He was like a local celebrity. A band’s frontman.

“So, what about you?” One of your scavenging partners asked on the ride home. “Which one do you like?”

“They’re all attractive guys,” you say, keeping your eyes on the road. “But I don’t really think about them like that.” You feel a flush coming on. Crushes, or anything romantic, is a part of your internal world, not something you discuss aloud.

“Come on,” she prods. “You never join in. You just laugh at us for being delusional.”

“Whose us?” Rosita asks, her voice sharp, humorous, and not without judgment. “I don’t talk about that shit.” But secretly, she loved the drama as much as you and would have many questions for you later tonight about why you have yet to tell her of the town obsession of treating her friends like the cast of a reality show.

“I don’t laugh at you! I like it when you guys talk about that stuff.”

“But what I’m saying is that I didn’t let you ride shotgun this time so you can hold out again,” the girl jokes half-heartedly.

“What do you mean this time? I get to ride shotgun because I’m the one with the CDs.”

And it’s true, the only thing that cancelled out the silence of drive in moments where conversation ceased was your Oasis album playing in the background. Learning about the band was your new obsession. Much like listening to the crazy imaginations of the girls in town, you found the Gallagher brother rivalry riveting even if you only knew pieces of the story from the music, scraps of magazine articles, and by asking whoever in town happened to be a teen in the 90s. Thankfully you had hit the jackpot today though. One of the houses you visited was once occupied by a dad and daughter with an insane music collection in the living room and a smaller, more curated one in the girl’s room. After gathering what new music you wanted to try from downstairs, you also found some old issues of QuizFest in the girl’s room, filled with activities that were themed with shows you remember from when you were a kid, but the most important discovery— the find of all finds— was one of those Ultimate Guide, Complete Life Story magazines of none other than the band Oasis.

You would now probably know all of the drama between the brothers to tell a coherent story about the band’s history to anyone who wanted an escape from walker related events and farming talk. When you weren’t listening, that’s what people would come to you for: to borrow music, get recommendations, or to tell them a story. In all, you were getting the reputation of being the town’s music historian, meaning you usually used your knowledge to avoid talking about yourself. And it mostly worked.

Except for now.

“Well, if I had to guess,” the girl persists despite your silence, “I think it would be Rick.”

“What?” Noticing the incredulity in your tone, you calm your voice. Shrugging you say, “Why Rick? Everyone likes him.”

Rosita sends a look your way. It’s innocent enough, probably just showing that she is still listening on as she drives but you were refusing to look at anyone now to know for sure.

“Exactly,” the girl says. “He’s a classic knight in shining armor type. I feel like he’d talk you through it, which I think would be good for— someone like you.”

Your face is on fire, you can’t even speak properly. “I- first of all, what do you know about my experience?” you ask, the incredulous tone returning. But all you get as an answer is knowing snorts and chortles from the two women. Ouch. Nonetheless, you continue, “Second, you think shooting a guy in the head in front of his wife and the whole town is chivalrous?”

Oh—

That makes car goes quiet.

You know you made a mistake.

You didn’t mean it as crassly as you said it, and you did feel bad for saying it knowing that the situation was more difficult than you summed it up to be, but you didn’t apologize. All this talk about crushes and especially Rick made you embarrassed. It’s not that you didn't see what others saw anyway. Of course you noticed how nice Rick’s curls are, how he doesn’t have to use any product for them to look as they do; or those blue eyes and how when you get closer, they become that much more stark and crisp; or how good he was at talking to people, convincing them of things or simply just reassuring them as a friend; and that southern drawl that still sometimes catches you by surprise by sounding so pronounced at the end of certain words, making his voice that much more intoxicating. Of course you saw the appeal, but that didn’t mean you had a crush on him.

Right?

Maybe it doesn’t matter. You just felt you knew better. He was like a president. You know of them, and you believe in them, but you don’t get close to them. And it didn’t matter that he told Carl to personally deliver you a stereo he and Daryl found while out once. How he remembered how you liked music. How he told Carl to tell you this one was probably better than the old one you had, that it was louder. You only showed him your old stereo that once when he was helping you move. He was just a perceptive guy with a good memory. All leaders are like that.

Right?

Anyway, let’s get back to your crass… joke.

“Hilarious.” Rosita says and you hear the low contempt in her voice at your insensitivity.

“That was ages ago though,” the girl chimes in, saving you just a little, “and he did it to help her. He didn’t care about the mess he made. He save her. I’d say that’s pretty romantic.”

“Let’s not call that romantic,” Rosita scoffs, and despite the slight frustration, there was a quiet sadness in her voice at the memory. “That wasn’t love.”

“That was reckless, not romantic.” You agree. Partly because you truly do, but also in attempt to win back favor from your friend. “I shouldn’t have mentioned it.”

But after that day, it was all you could think about.

The idea of a knight; a romantic; someone that would do anything for you, ruin his reputation for you; find gifts from the outside that he’d send is son to give to you. Maybe you did find it charming, idyllic.

These thoughts soared in your mind so much so that on one night when thinking about boys from books or your favorite artists wasn't enough during moments under your sheets when your back arched and your fingers trailed up your thighs, your mind switched from people you would never meet to him, to Rick. Your eyes scrunched tighter, and you tried to shake it away, telling yourself it was just the women in town and the talk in the car getting to you. But then you thought about how rich and hot pink his lips looked on a bright sun-burning day and how it would feel like flames firing inside of you if he kissed you with them.

Ideas like these went on for nearly a year now. You even started questioned if maybe you had always liked him, maybe you were always just like the other girls even though tried to not be. You had thought it made you respectful, realistic; after all, how could Rick be the love of your life if he was everyone’s? Wonderings like this became even worse and more confusing when Rosita had asked if you’d like to move in with her. Becoming closer with her meant being around the leaders more often, which meant coincidental encounters and conversations with Rick as well. Quickly, he wasn’t just that president or celebrity anymore who talked to you sometimes and got you that stereo that once. He was becoming a peer— at least in some ways. One who was curious about your interests as much as your opinions. But it’s not exactly like you were in the in-crowd now as some people assumed. You didn’t get to go to leader meetings, and as much as you knew Rosita must have been telling you more than others know, she couldn’t have been telling you everything. But you did see him more than other people now, when he and the leaders came over to the house or when Rosita was invited over to theirs and she’s tell you to come too. And now, with these thoughts spiraling, you can’t help but to look back at the at the times where Rick approached you, gave you all his attention no matter how small it was and asked you about what you were listening to or reading that week, letting you ramble. He was an older guy, yes, but he cared, he actually listened, and he didn’t make you feel like the childish little sister others do.

Sadly, you did become the fawn like you had told yourself you wouldn’t be. But you couldn’t stop picturing him when you closed your eyes, and in fact, it was nice to imagine someone to fall asleep with, to wake up to. It was just going be your secret. Part of your fantasy world. But then— it all caught up to you.

Through the sliver of the open door he saw you, fingers between folds, goading yourself on as you chanted his name in whispers.

And to your surprise, he encouraged it. No, he did so much more than that— he helped you, made you come; gave you your first orgasm and made you his like no one has before.

You loved it. You gave into it. Even if it was just one secret moment. It made you give into the idea that this would continue but of course, it didn’t. He hasn’t spoken to you in almost three weeks until—

“Woah-” you gasp, almost crashing into just the person as you exit your room.

“Sorry,” you both say in unison, holding onto each other's forearms before quickly letting go. Your arms cross over into your chest before dropping as you enter your room again, clearing the hallway, and his hands go behind his back. He’s still as unsteady as you are, his mouth is slightly open, thinking of what to say.

“Hi,” you whisper tentatively.

“Good morning,” he politely replies. His eyes now smile slightly as he nods to you. You don’t miss how the light emanating from your bright room makes them shine. And he doesn’t miss how the light shining behind your figure makes you, in your white cotton sundress, look like an absolute angel.

“Good morning,” you repeat, giggling slightly, not knowing what else to say.

“Good morning,” he says again, lost and as giddy as you are.

“Oh wait— is the leader’s meeting here today?” Rick starts to nod and answers yes as you continue to speak, “I totally forgot! I’m sorry. I know I should be gone by now.”

He shakes his head, “It’s fine. I was just going to the bathroom.”

“Here? Was someone in the one downstairs?”

“Just wanted to be away from everyone when they came. Daryl and I came early so we started talking and I just- we didn’t see eye to eye on something. I needed a minute.”

You nod. That seems to be your signature when to talk to him. You hated it honestly. Often over-analyzing your words, worrying you’ll sound immature or stutter in front of him. “I'm sorry,” you tell him sympathetically. For a moment there is only silence which makes you worry he will go away, so without thinking, you ask: “I know you’re busy but, if you need a moment, maybe you would like to come in here instead?”

Rick freezes but then, inevitably agrees. As he enters, you close the door and quickly go to shut off the low playing stereo and rehang some of the dresses on your chair in the closet— you had been getting ready for the day. Rick goes to sit on the chair after you empty it but you stop him. You sit on the vertical side of your bed and guesture Rick to sit in the spot next to you, closer to the headboard. You wanted to sit next to him.

Rick doesn’t question this, maybe he wanted to be as close to you as you had, so as he sits, your thighs touch. You try not to move too much at the first contact. Still, the heat that starts to burn inside you makes you realize how much you’ve craved this. Can two weeks feel like a lifetime? It’s like you haven’t felt him in ages.

“What were you playing today?” He asks and you realize you eyes went straight to the area where yours and Rick’s legs touched. You know he noticed but still you try to answer normally.

“Selena. Rosita loves her. It’s one of her most famous songs: Amor Prohibido.”

He nods. “I probably wouldn’t understand a bit of it,” he laughs.

He would probably remember the singer from the news if you gave more context but you don’t. There is a silence that follows until you ask, “So,” starting slowly, “what’s wrong? Is Daryl aright?”

He doesn’t answer. His mouth is open as if he’s deciding what to say, but nothing comes out, so you continue, “You know, nothing is ever right in the world when Rick and Daryl fight. It makes me sad.”

The joke makes those lines at the sides of his eyes appear— a quiet laugh. “Well you know I’d never want to make you sad. Especially not you.” You two exchange a light smile while that heat rises fast to your heart. “We’ll be fine,” he finally says, but then he goes quiet again. Rick seems unsure if he wants to continue. He even looks at the door, wonders if the others have shown up yet, but— he knows he doesn’t want to leave. And even more, he knows he shouldn’t after ignoring you like some teenage boy. He decides to tell you what’s happening: “Daryl wants us to bring new people in. You know how he’s always going out there. But I think it’s way too soon.”

You hum agreeingly, but at the same time, you understand Daryl. “I think he just likes to give people what he never used to have,” you suggest.

“I know,” he nods a bit annoyedly; “and that’s a nice way to put it, but you know him, when he has his mind set on somethin’ he can be so damn stubborn. It’s frustrating. He won’t compromise or listen to anything.”

Endearingly, you try to withhold a laugh, your lisp pursing. Not only because when he says anything, it actually sounds like anythang, but because Rick sounds like he’s describing himself and he doesn’t even realize it.

“And,” he adds, pausing for a moment before he continues, scratching his beard. It looks as if maybe he shouldn’t tell you what he’s about to. His head hangs low to say: This is not information for everyone to know, okay? But the last time he went out there with Glenn, the reason Glenn’s arm is in a sling right now, is because they met a group, tried to bring them back and before they could make it even close to home, the group fought ‘em, tried to steal what they scavenged, and almost kill Glenn.”

You widen your eyes at the statement. You actually already knew this from Rosita, but that will stay between you two. All you feel is humbled that he felt he share it with you, despite it being a dark thing. It was a close call. Rick was right for being very cautious right now. “Wow,” is all you can get in before he speaks again.

“Imagine if we lost him. Fought this war with his wife and unborn baby at the time for nothing? So he couldn’t even meet him?” Rick shakes his head, and you notice his foot tapping lightly, making his knee bounce. This had happened a month ago now but it was obviously affecting him. “It was reckless and I told him that. That right now we need to be focusing on what’s inside these walls. People have only just started getting back to being comfortable now; to feeling like this is a home.”

Your eyes remain wide, “We did so much rebuilding you.”

“We did complete rebuilding.” He corrects, though not rudely. Shaking his head, he goes back to talking about Daryl: “I think I made it seem like what happened to Glenn was his fault. So not only were we arguing but I must’ve hurt him,” Rick realizes, “and now he definitely won’t be back today— maybe not even until next week.”

A silence hangs in the air after this; it seems he finished. Now, you know you should speak, but as the silence continues, you grow more unsure of what to say. Issues like these are things you’ve never dealt with. You didn’t want to say something stereotypical.

“I’m sorry I’m putting all this on you.”

“No, no,” you quickly console, trying to think. “Um, well,” you say, starting unsteadily, “this is probably going to sound stupid and not helpful. I don’t even remember the exact context or what was truly said so it might not make any sense either but, do you remember when I had my Oasis obsession? Earlier this year?”

“I do,” he laughs, turning his head over to your music table. His eyes scan any of the visible album titles to see if he can find it, but the print on most of them are too small. He turns back to you as you continue:

“This is going to sound a little far off but I think you and Daryl are like Liam and Noel.”

His eyebrows furrow, “Didn’t those two hate each other?”

“I mean, yes— but it’s much more complicated than that to me— but no, I don’t mean in that way. It just that there is this quote Noel says that I don’t remember exactly, but I really liked: he said that even though he wrote the music and Liam did the singing that Liam meant the words just as much as Noel did because they’re brothers and he wrote them. I thought that was beautiful, but…” you trail off.

He stays silent, trying to give you space to find your words but you feel like you’ve gone too far. It’s all pretty convoluted and not a true comparison to what’s going on that you’re even confusing yourself a little. “I think what I mean is that even though they have their different roles, they still feel very similar things and believe in the same purpose. I think that’s like you and Daryl. You two are so similar yet so different. But there’s still a binding force that always brings the two of you together. So, like I’m sure you already know and I didn’t even need to tell you, but you two will be okay. You two have different ways of doing things, but the music or the life you’re trying to create in Alexandria still has the same meaning to the both of you.” You laugh small and breathily as you end. “That probably didn’t make sense.”

Rick smiles to himself. “I didn’t get that first bit, with the quote, but no… that made a lot of sense to me.” He nods toward you and you return his smile. “You’re so bright. You know that? Not everyone knows how to stitch things together like that the way you do.”

This makes you feel good. Rick thought you were smart. You know you should say thank you, but instead, something else comes out: “May I, may I kiss you?”

“Yes,” he answers, almost stuttering it out, a hint of hesitation before he did, but he nods so kindly, so reassuringly as he tells you again: “yes.”

Your fingers touch his lower cheeks lightly, feeling the bristles of his beard. You’re slow, and careful, and scared. Your fingers linger on his jaw for a moment until they completely caress his right cheek and then you move in, swiftly— worried you’ll lose your confidence, worried he’ll change his mind. You catch his lower lip and seal the kiss. Your lips are locked for a few seconds until you retreat. It was nice, and exciting, but short. You knew you could have put your tongue in his mouth. You believe he would have let you because you remember when he did it last time, but you didn’t want to embarrass yourself by doing it wrong and once again reminding him how much you don’t know. But you’re sure giving him a grade school kiss like this one was enough of a reminder.

Your eyes roll down, chin low. Your cheeks are on fire and your hands do not know where to go so you start fiddling with the hem of your dress and then you laugh. You were trying to be courageous this time, and you were, but you also weren’t.

Rick grabs your left hand, holding it at the end of your thigh, “I liked that,” he says softly.

“You did?” You ask as softly as he, eyes meeting his.

A short, airy snicker comes out, “Mhm,” he hums, giving you a closed-mouth smile. He found you simply adorable.

“Can I… try it again?”

Rick pulls on your forearm, attempting to bring you closer to him. “Yeah,” he nods, voice gentle. “Do you want me to help?”

You nod before you speak, happily accepting, “Yes.”

He puts your hands on his shoulders. One of his grabs onto your waist and the other holds you lightly under your chin, adjusting your head to meet his lips. The first kiss he places holds just for a couple of moments as the one you gave him did, gentle but packed with longing. The next two are slow, pretty pecks that already have you melting at his touch, lips agape waiting for the next one. The fourth is the one where he brings his tongue into your mouth, carefully bringing it in quarter by quarter. He tastes the top of your mouth and tongue and you feel him as he slowly starts to explore how far you may like to go, but truly you become stagnant other than your hands that press into his shoulder. Luckily, Rick either doesn’t notice your hesitation or is already silently helping you as he takes the lead, pulling you closer by the hips and slipping his tongue in and out of your mouth to kiss you more. It makes you smile— the excitement of your first make-out session. You giggle, and then it makes him smile too and your teeth slightly bump into each other. Accidently you nip his lip because of it, making you pull back.

Your fingers hover over your lips as you impart a quiet apology but Rick just shakes his head giving you another quick kiss instead. He starts to move back on your bed, back pressed again the headboard and he tells you quietly, “Come here.”

You get up and sit higher up on the bed as well, calves folded under your thighs. He takes one of your legs and starts to put it over his as he asks, “Is this okay?”

You nod, vigor growing as you do it now, thrilled to sit on his lap. Your dress bunches around your hips and the tops of your thighs. You move closer to press your chest into his and you kiss him first again, another small one but with intent as you look at him afterward, feeling the scratch of his beard on your fingertips as you smile at him, in awe that this is happening.

“You want to try this time?”

“Uh,” he means you put your tongue in his mouth this time, but you’re afraid to do it wrong but you know you want to say yes so you do, “Yes, okay.”

So he brings you in again and you kiss him. He mouth opens a little and you try to bring your tongue in slightly but you teeth clash. “Sorry,” and quickly he responds that it’s okay and rubs your cheek, telling you to just open your mouth a little wider, no teeth, let your tongue go on top of his.

You try it. Your tongues meet again, licking each other tips before you slowing press in more, your chest touching his as you try to close the gap.

Rick starts slowly rocking your hips against his and he takes control of the kiss again. It helps you not think, you like it. And you like the feeling of that incoming tight bulge starting to form under his jeans, but then you let go. “Wait,” you say, “I like this.” You pause for a moment, confusing him more as to why you stopped. “But… there is something I wanted to ask you.”

“Okay,” his hand stay fixed on your hips and waist, rubbing soothily, “What it is?”

Another pause. “I feel nervous,” you whisper.

“You have no reason to be, sweetheart. You can ask me anything.”

You laugh, smiling as you look off to the side. Anythang.

He smiles too, although unknowingly to what you found funny. His head tilts as he tries to find your gaze and turn it towards him again.

“Well, the last time we were together here you taught me how to do something. You taught me how to pleasure myself better so,” you stutter, “I want to pleasure you. If that’s okay. And I was wondering if you’d teach me how- to touch you here.” You remove yourself from straddling him and point in the direction of his cock.

Instantly he feels a stir of his already hardening dick.

This is not how he expected things to go this time. Or truly, he didn’t expect any of this at all, but when you asked to kiss him he decided he would be gentle, more giving. It felt like you wanted him to take again, the exact thing he was trying not to do. “I feel like I took advantage of you last time.”

“Rick…” you shake your head. “I’m the one who didn’t close the door all the way. You asked if it was okay and then you asked if you could go faster. I said yes to everything…” You start to worry— is he second guessing everything now?—“I feel maybe we remember this differently.” You bow your head again now. Feeling ashamed, wondering if he did.

Rick places one hand on your knee to comfort you although he still says, “It’s just that I’ve never done something like this before.” His thumb sways on your skin. “I just don’t want you to end up feeling like you’re wasting your time. Your first times.”

You’re surprised, “It’s so funny how you can be so self-assured in front of a crowd and now you don’t think you’re good enough.” You take his hand and press it towards your chest. Your heart was racing. “I like you. So much.” You swallow as he says your name softly, realizing how fast your heart was going. “No one in town is truly ever mean to me or anything, and Rosita has been so kind with letting me move in with her and we talk and its nice but, you know— she has her flings and her friendships that are separate from mine and everyone just always seems like they have their person and I just don’t. I don’t have my person, or any person.” You remove your hands from your chest but Rick still holds onto it, squeezing your hand as you start speaking again. “You’re kind, Rick, and you make me excited, and you remember things about me… “ If your face could get any hotter, it does, “And, well, you’re very handsome. If you could teach me again, I would like that.”

God… Rick was trying to be a romantic yet you were so adamant on getting him off. He laughed inwardly, shaking his head, deciding that the best way to handle this situation— and make up for some of his guilt as he was trying to— would be to give you the thing you say you want and not what he thinks you want. Suppose that’s one for widower’s wisdom.

Decidedly, Rick gets up from the bed, giving you a once over, still admiring how adorable, and how sexy, you look to him with your feet under your lap, hands on your knees as you look up at him from the bed and your white dress. He starts undoing his shirt buttons. “Remember when I did this the first time?”

A smirk came on, there’s the Rick you remember. Blue eyes intense, and voice getting cocky as he gets ready to give you what you need, what he knows you only want from him.

“Yes,” you say quiet yet with budding excitement. You start going for the hem of your dress, “Should I start taking this off too?”

“Mm, stay like that.” He’s taking off his belt. “Thought you looked beautiful in it right when I saw you.”

Your thighs squeeze together slightly. Rick Grimes was undressing before you, for you, and calling you smart and beautiful all the while.

As Rick lowers his boxers, his cock springs up. He returns to his spot on the bed, back leaning against the headboard. All of a sudden he seems to truly recognize that he is the only one exposed. He would tell you what to do, guide you, but in a small way, in a way you probably didn’t realize, you were in control. It seems that each time this happens— although it’s only been twice— and each time he talks to you— which has been plenty— you steal a little more of Rick’s heart and he just can’t stop it.

“So,” he clears his throat, your eager eyes on his cock making him twitch, “you usually just wrap your hand around, start from the base and keep pumping up.” He shakes his head, “there’s not too much too it but it’s best to keep your hand light at the start, you—”

You nod quickly, “May I?”

As he nods back you, “Yes.” And as he says it you’re already licking your hand.

“Is it okay if I spit? That helps right? Or is that nasty to you?”

He’s caught off guard, “No, no, that helps.”

So you do and you place your hand lightly at the base as he said and you start to pump. Instantly, he lets out a gasp, and the next noises that follow are repressed grunts and groans. You want to ask him to stop doing that but you’re a little scared to speak up that way just yet and you’re too engrossed in how you can see the light veins of green and blue on him and how he’s so red at the tip. It was honestly exciting. Just this, touching him with your hand, staring at his member and watching him twitch as his mouth opens to pant lightly. It still felt unreal but you liked it and you were happy to learn. You start to pump him more towards the top, placing your thumb on his slit- pressing in. His abs clench at that. You push in a little harder and you squeeze your fist around him a little— testing it out to see what happens—and he groans, unadulterated this time, “oh, fuck.”

The heel of your foot that’s under your lap pushes into your center at that.

You start pumping faster. “Am I doing good, Rick?”

Hearing your voice sets him off, “Fuck, sweetheart. Yes.” He’s honestly choking out each of his words, he didn’t expect to get so turned on by all of this. He realizes the last time he had sex was with you that first time, and before that… he can’t even remember. “You’re doing an amazing job.”

As you pump, you start to slow down, only doing it shallowly towards his base. You’re feeling confident and you kiss the side of him, licking a fat stripe up to the top and then you pump him fully again.

“Oh, fuck, yeah,” he breathes out. He wants to tell you to slow down but it comes out of nowhere, he stutters before he can even speak. An unintelligible groan mixed with a moan comes out abrupt and louder than he intends and white spurts of liquid come out.

You go faster for a few moments, then start to slow down, a little unsure of what is best to do, but you notice when you start squeezing him a little more as you continue to pump up and more whiteness fall out from inside of him.

“Did I, make you come?”

“Yeah,” he says, huffing.

“I did?” your cheekbones rise as you ask with awe— it was another first for the books.

Rick’s tries to let his embarrassment fade, he can tell you were just excited about it, but still, he looks down and to the side, avoiding direct eye contact— almost like you typically would. You peer at him, almost nervously because of it. Rick is usually the confident one. “Doesn’t always happen that fast,” he explains.

“Well before a month ago I didn’t know how to make myself come so I wouldn’t know,” you say with self-deprecating assurance. You had heard from the girls in town that it was easier to make men orgasm. You already had it in your head as something not to judge. You wonder how hard he must have been restraining himself the first time he placed himself inside you, or if it just happened to be easier for him that time around. “I didn’t expect I could do it or anything really. I thought it was…” you smile while giggling, “interesting.”

“A good interesting I hope.”

“Very,” you assure. “I liked it.” You kiss his cheek as you take some wipes that are by your night stand and you start cleaning him up. He doesn’t tell you that you don’t have to; he helps along with you.

“You sure you’ve never done any of this before?”

You shake your head. “I just read fiction books.”

He smiles to himself, a quiet snort of laughter leaving his nose. You always surprise him.

When you two are done cleaning, he puts his boxers back on. Quickly, he is on the bed again and starts to kissing you. Rick holds your shoulder and pushes you down. Finally, it’s time for his redemption, he feels. It was your turn to be pleasured. Just like he wanted to do from the beginning.

Rick kisses down your neck to your collarbone, and the parts of your exposed chest and he pushes your dress up past your hips. His lips move back up to yours, kissing you more before saying, “I really wanna show you something sweetheart.” He presses his thumb into your clit over your underwear. “Can I kiss you down there? Have you ever had that before?”

You shake your head slowly, eyes wide. “I-” you start nodding your head, “-I would really like that.” And in such a small voice you add, “Please.”

Rick kisses your cheek. Deep and softly he breathlessly tells you, “I would love to.”

Rick moves his head lower and gives you slow kisses over your underwear from your mound to the end of your lips. He starts to drag your panties over your legs and once they’re gone he kisses up your thighs. Then his nose rubs and sways ever so lightly on your lips. He breathes in and it makes you shutter. Your heart is going crazy again. Finally, he licks upward. One long and languid stripe ending with a kiss to your clit and then he truly begins.

Tongues are wet and sticky and everything you ever dreamed of. Your eyes roll back instantly from that first lick and kiss. You remember a time when you started touching yourself that you used to never think of receiving oral. You thought it was scary, nasty, that you wouldn’t like it until the moment you thought about it as a million kisses on your most sensitive lips, or someone liking you so much that they’d get drenched by your wetness just to touch you, to taste you. After that, you thought about it all the time and now it was finally happening– someone needing you so much they just had to know what you taste like. Here he was: kissing, licking, sucking, not caring about how he looks but only how you feel— you now knew what it was like to be desired.

Rick presses his tongue flat on your clit, rubbing deep circles. His eyes are open, looking up at how your mouth opens wider and wider. You let out little whimpers, enamored by his tongue, still deciding if you like the scratch of his beard, but your eyes stay glued to the ceiling, scared to look at the scene below.

He gives you kitten licks in between speaking, “Look down. Don’t miss your first time.”

Your eyes go down slowly, watching as he gives open mouth kisses to your clit and right lip, tilting his head. He stays there for a moment, hearing your short and breathy pants, kissing and licking your clit and lower lips like they were the ones above your chin. His eye contact sends bursts of sticky wet fluid down your hole and you release a whimpered moan, they’re always sp short and soft and high pitched. He can tell you like it but he can also see you’re nervous. You don’t trust yourself, you know it, and he’s starting to realize it too. You’re scared of completely letting go.

He peppers kisses to your clit before moving upward, his tongue rolling and mouth kissing from your lower stomach to your breasts till his face reaches yours again. “No one’s here,” he tells you. He then kisses your lips allowing you to taste yourself for the first time. “Relax,” he whispers, rolling out each syllable. He holds your chin with one hand while he inserts a finger into your hole with the other, his pointer is instantly drenched and you shudder at the feeling. His single calloused finger reminds you of the time he was last inside you. He pumps slowly, looking into your eyes as he speaks, “Don’t think about who could come downstairs.”

“What if Rosita or Daryl come back?”

“What if?” He says it so simply as if he’s ready for everyone to know. Truly, that would be an issue, but right now it was not about him and it was completely about you; he wanted to give. It was short-sighted, reckless, yes, but… you were just so pretty, so bright, so insightful, and he felt like he needed to make up for all the taking he did last time, of your first time. Rosita had went to run after Daryl, hopefully no one was here anyway. But again, he didn’t care. It didn’t matter. “Lay back,” he gently commands, “forget what I said before- close your eyes. Just give in to it. Like I’m the only one who's here.”

Rick licks zig zag stripes down your slit and then he decides to insert his tongue in your hole. He goes as deep as his tongue allows, collecting your wetness and trying to swallow it in moments when he turns back to kissing. He his nose is brushing and rubbing up against your clit as he sucks wetness from down below and you start letting out stringy moans you can’t control. Soft, pretty, and continuous, “uh, ah, uh, uh” that turn into “sorry, I’m sorry.” You’re still self-conscious about your own noises. This was still only the second time you’ve heard the sounds you make when someone else is fucking you.

But Rick shushes you. Giving small kisses to your clit as he looks up at you, seeing your scrunched eyes and open mouth. “I like knowing you like it, pretty girl. I like all those pretty sounds you’re making.”

Your pussy tightens around nothing at that phrase.

“Keep going. You don’t have to be shy.” He grabs your chin and you look down at him. His beard is wet. “We’ve already made a mess anyway.”

He starts kissing your labias, licking up wetness when you decide to ask, nervously, “Can you make sounds too?”

Instantly, Rick goes again to kiss your clit, humming into it as he sucks. Breathing against you he says, “Want me to tell you I like it, sweetheart?” His tongue slides down again, tongue reaching into your hole and he moans into your pussy.

Your back arches and you mewl, you could almost scream.

That’s it, he thinks. Rick keeps humming and groaning into you now. His voice is so seductive. “I love tasting your pussy, baby.”

You couldn’t breathe.

Rick starts rubbing your clit with his thumb and going fast with his tongue in your hole “My bright, pretty girl gonna come for me? Hm?”

“Oh, Rick, I want to. Please, Rick.”

Rick starts to go faster and your brain turns to mush. Only noises coming out and when he stops his tongue movements to say something more you push his head down. “Sorry,” you say. You’ve never been forceful before but he says nothing, just continues going down on you and taking his free hand to place it over his, gesturing that he wants your hands in his hair. You tug on his curls and he grunts into you. You start chanting his name and then he switches to placing his lips on your clit and putting two fingers in your pussy. It reminded you of the first time but instead of your three fingers they were two of his and it felt so much better than you ever knew before, better than you could ever do it yourself. It sets you off. Your eyes shut tighter if they could. “Rick! Oh my god,” you moan and then again and again and then you come.

Rick laps at your cunt, vigorously trying to wipe you clean. He makes it look like it will be the last and only time. It makes you worry but at the same time he looks so sexy like that; needy for you even after you finished.

He takes your wipes and cleans his lips before cleaning you up as you did for him. He kisses you thighs and your lips and your cheeks as he continues. “You did such a good job,” he says. “You always do.”

You’re filled with pride at that. “Thank you.” Then worry sets in. You realize how public you’ve made everything. “Did I just ruin your life?”

He laughs while caressing your thigh. That anxious expression of yours that he just got rid of returns after all the work he did.

“I’m gonna check downstairs. Okay? If they’re there, they’re there.” You nod. We already made a mess anyway, you remember him saying. “They might want to start the meeting when I go down so, whatever happens, happens alright? You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Your eyes are still nervous, but it’s all too late anyway. “Okay,” you respond.

“Okay,” he says back, kissing you once more. As he dresses himself again, he tells you, “I promise I won’t wait two weeks to see you again.”

“I’d like that.”

“Me too,” he says as a send off and goes into the bathroom to clean his face.

When he reaches the living room, there is no one. Rick is thankful but confused.

As he nears the coffee table there is a sheet of yellow lined legal pad with a talkie next to it.

Call when you’re done, it reads.

“Rosita?” He questions into the device. Who else could it have been, right?

He can almost hear the grin on her face. “They should start calling you Reckless Rick for all the agony you put these Alexandria girls through.” She pauses for dramatic effect. “There’s just something about that stupid hair cowboy accent, I guess.”

Before he can respond, telling her that it’s absurd to think of him as a playboy, that he was far from it, she continues:

“So, fucking my roommate? You’re glad Glenn and Maggie called everyone over to theirs instead. Hershel took his first steps while you were teaching someone else how to take theirs.”

She unpressed the button to suppress her laughter. “Just get over here,” she concludes, putting down the walkie and going back to meet the rest of the group with a perfect poker face. She tells everyone Rick will be here shortly.

Oh, Alexandria’s leader and her new little best friend who has been hearing the townswomen’s fantasies of him for years: Reckless Rick and his reckless romantic girl.

Rosita would give you so much shit for this when she gets home.

[reidmania]

Hiii, I’m sorry if this is super awkward, I’ve never sent a request before. (If this has been done before please ignore it). A reader who is really, really clumsy. Like walks into walls, drops everything, constantly having bruises that they dong know how they got there, and they’ve been made self conscious of being clumsy because lots of people have made fun of them? Reader falls down the stairs, or something like that, while carrying something of boyfriend!Spencer’s, maybe a gift for him or something to do with doctor who that he really likes? Like a figurine or something like that. It gets broken slightly, it can be fixed easily, but reader freaks out thinking that Spencer will be super upset and angry with them? But ofc Spencer just cares that reader is okay and not hurt?

If this is a really bad idea please ignore it, I’m not very good with ideas lol. Thanks :)

CLUTZ | spencer reid

summary; reader is shattered when they accidentally breaks the gift they got for spencer, while spencer only cares about them.

warnings; gn reader, mentions of being clumsy, crying, mentions of being insecure, mentions blood and bruises, grazes and injuries, hurt x comfort

an; you didn’t specify a gender so i just made it gender neutral i think but i saw this right before going to my birthday dinner and was ACHING to write it. this is so cute thank u so much for requesting

You think you stopped breathing.

There was a rough thumping in your chest, so you knew you were still alive — as much as you wished you weren’t in this moment — but you think you stopped breathing.

The ground held the pieces of the plastic figurine. The one you had spent waiting in line all morning for the minute Spencer said he wanted it — unfortunately he had to work so he wouldn’t be there and would likely miss out.

You wouldn’t have that when you saw how badly he wanted it.

Only in this moment you couldn’t stop thinking about how if he had been the one to get it, there wouldn’t be broken pieces of the figurine all over the floor right now.

You were making it a bigger deal in your head than what it was, it wasn’t in many pieces, the plastic head had just fallen off, but built up guilt and insecurity made its way through your veins and buried themselves right behind your eyes pushing the tears forward.

You always did this.

No matter what it was, spilling coffee on yourself, tripping up stairs or over your own feet, dropping things or walking into desks and doors. No matter what — you were constantly covered in bruises, no matter how much you tried to be careful its like your body never alined with what was in front of you.

“Baby?” You looked up from the floor where the broken figurine laid. You hadn’t realised you were in fact breathing — although it came out uneven and harsh as you struggled to calm the build of anxiety in your blood stream.

Your eyes landed on Spencer as he looked over you worryingly. Maybe you should’ve stood up from where you had tripped, landing on your knees which were now bleeding with grazes.

You had messaged Spencer to meet you outside, however you had not expected to trip over your own feet in excitement sending the figurine out of your hands and your body to the ground.

You suddenly felt the pain coursing through your legs, a small sound of pain ushered your lips as the tears lining your eyes began to cloud your vision, causing Spencer to be covered by blurry vision.

“Im sorry” You ushered out as your hands sprawled open and closed as you tried to calm yourself down but it wasn’t working. Spencer didn’t say anything for a moment as he bent down to your level, offering a hand to you.

“What happened angel?” His tone was so soft, so gentle, so sweet. The tone you couldn’t feel less deserving of. You took his hand as his other pressed gently under your other arm to help you out as his eyes scanned over your body, lips parting as his eyes settled on the blood pooling a little around the graze on your knees.

“Im so sorry — I am such an idiot! I don’t even- I was just walking, Spence Im so sorry, I know how bad you wanted this and I just completely ruined it, i ruined the entire thing and they’re all sold out I got the second last one, Im so sorry.” You rambled as hot tears fell from your eyes as you blinked, they burnt their trail down your cheeks leaving their residue aflame.

“What?” Spencer furrowed his eyebrows in confusion as his eyes looked down to the floor to the figure that was in two parts. He looked back at you as his eyebrows furrow deepened. His hands gracing over your side in the gentlest touch, just allowing their comforting presence to be known. “Who cares about that— How about you come inside and I’ll clean you up yeah?” He said softly, eyes dropping back down to your knees.

“I care!! And you do!! You wanted this, Spence — And - and i wanted to do this for you. You do so much for me and I couldn’t even get you a bloody gift without completely ruining it.” You ushered out in a broken sob as your hands rose to your face to provide somewhat of a soothing sensation to your skin that felt like on the verge of ashes from the tears that grazed them — but it made no difference.

Spencer frowned as he listened to you speak, his hand paused softly on your hips before rising your face, replacing your hands with his own as he cupped your cheeks softly. “I care about you angel. I care that you are bleeding right now. I care that you are obviously in pain and you are more worried about something that we can fix” He said softly, his thumb rubbing over your cheek softly.

You didn’t say anything as you leaned into his touch instinctively. “Im sorry” You repeat gently as your hands frail by your side. The tears don’t stop but they fall more silently as they continue to fill your eyes no matter your attempt to blink them away.

He coos, “Theres nothing you have to be sorry about sweetheart. You did nothing wrong. Can we get you inside and clean you up?” He speaks so gently and softly it makes your stomach tighten and your chest clench as if someone is holding it in a death grip. — how you deserved him was beyond you.

“I always do this” You mutter, shaking your head. His hands are brushing hairs away from your face and thumbs are brushing the hot tears that fall, his hands providing a cooling sensation over the burning paths of the tears. “I suck” You laugh out, but it’s not all that funny.

He shakes his head as he leans in to press a gentle kiss to your forehead, before he leant down to pick up the figurine that landed on the floor between you and him. You watch his hands work and in moments the head is reattached, theres a little bit a scrape on the plastic of it, but nothing big.

“Easy fix honey. I love it, and don’t get me wrong I am so insanely grateful for you and that you went out of your way to get it but i’m more worried about you” He said, his hand coming to the back of your head to softly drag you into his chest, wrapping his arms around you in a soft hug that he knew you needed.

You bury your face in the warmth of his sweater vest, his lips kissing your hair softly repeatedly. “Let’s go inside and get you cleaned up.. Can you do that for me honey?” He almost whispered as his fingers smoothed out your hair gently.

You finally nodded into his chest as the tears subsided, your breathing came out shaking but less heavy and throaty than it was previously. His comfort providing you a the resemblance of a lifeline.

He thanked you softly as he took his hands in yours, leading you inside the figurine tight in his other hand as he looks over every few steps to make sure you were okay, he could see the pain evident in your face in every step you took and he wanted nothing more than to scoop you up and carry you to his desk but he knew you would just be embarrassed by the attention from other people looking, so instead his hand squeezed your hand gently.

Finally you relaxed against the wall of the elevator and Spencers hands were instantly tucked under your thighs, hoisting you up to wrap your legs around his waist. “Spence” You whisper out as your face goes red.

“It’s just my team, baby. Id rather you not in pain” He said softly as his hand pressed against the small of your back softly. You did nothing more than sigh in response as your head rested against his shoulder softly.

He was bringing you to his desk and placing you gently in his chair only moments later. He was on his knees in seconds, fingers searching through his draw for antiseptic wipes that he kept in there constantly for two reasons.

1, because the world was gross.

2, because you were always getting yourself hurt.

“Gonna sting baby” He said softly, hands working to peel over the individual wrapping. You felt the burn when the wipe hit the graze on your knee, a quiet wince left your lips as your face screwed up.

Spencer frowned as he leant up to the top of your knee over the skin he had just cleaned and pressed his lips softly against it, as his hand continued wiping over the graze gently. “I know darling, Im sorry.” He whispered quietly.

You let the feeling of his lips against your skin take over the pain. His hand scrambled softly back in his draw for bandages.

“Im sorry” You muttered again as he places the bandaids gently across the scarred skin. He looked up at you with eyes filled with nothing but admiration and love, the look making your stomach drop in a way you couldn’t explain if your life depended on it.

He tsked slightly, shaking his head as he pressed his lips gently over your knee again, “No apologies, cmon” He said softly as he used a new wipe to clean his hands before taking yours in his own. “It was an accident. You couldn’t control it and you have no reason to apologise for it, as long as you are okay, I don’t care about anything else” He spoke clearly with so much intent you felt in piece through the insecurity that build up your body.

He leant up to place a gently kiss on your lips. “Are you okay?” He asked softly, once his lips separated from yours he stood up properly, hands remaining in yours as his thumb rubbed over the soft skin on the back of your hair softly.

You wondered how he put up with it, how he put up with you — but then he would looked at you with eyes full of admiration and his hands would graze your skin so softly as if you were something so delicate. He would talk to you as if his entire world depended on protecting you, and then there was no room for insecurity or doubt in your mind when it was all too consumed with him.

“Im okay.”

[motorsportbarbie13]

The Princess & The Pilot - Part 4

In which you struggle to come to terms with falling for someone you have to hide.

Warnings: alcohol use. swearing. bit of angst in the middle. teeth rotting fluff at the end. also brief smut at the end accidentally? i got carried away, okay??? Pairing: Lando Norris x BritishPrincess!Reader Word Count: 4.6k or something like that

- The Princess & The Pilot - Part 1 - The Princess & The Pilot - Part 2 - The Princess & The Pilot - Part 3 - Master List

positivlynottheprincess posted a story:

land-ho ah so you are alive!! >>>positivelynottheprincess omg lan. i'm so sorry. i was just texting you. it was absolute chaos here tonight. Lizzie started running a fever and Char had to stay back to tend to her. so seb asked me to go last minute. which meant a last minute tiara fitting. >>>land-ho i'm just teasing, gorgeous. i just miss you. >>>positivelynottheprincess :( i know. i miss you too. i'm sorry i couldn't make canada work last weekend or monaco work this weekend. >>>land-ho don't apologize baby. i'll be in woking on monday ahead of spain though. think you can slip away? >>>positivelynottheprincess anything for you, handsome. >>>positivelynottheprincess pulling up to the palace, facetime tonight when i get home if you're not busy? >>>land-ho just streaming with max tn, call me whenever >>>positivelynottheprincess xox

"That tapping noise has got to break some international law or something, it's so fucking annoying."

Your eyes dart from your phone screen up to your brother across from you in the back seat of the Bentley you were riding in. "Language, Mister Future King of England." You scold.

Sebastian just rolls his eyes and glances back down at his iphone, giving you permission to go back to rereading your messages from Lando.

Ever since the weekend you spent with Lando in Monaco, you two had been getting closer and closer. You had tried to negotiate your way into attending the race in Canada last week, but your foundation had events scheduled and your father had needed your help with a few things. But Lando was going to finally be in town for a little bit so you were hopeful that you'd get to see each other more than just a few hours.

The hours you did spend together, on both FaceTime and in person, had been bliss. The way you two just clicked so easily was something that unnerved you a little. You were a bit surprised with how content you were to just keep the relationship between you and Lando though, as you were someone who tended to wear their heart on their sleeve. You loved big and you loved loud, which was sometimes a difficult thing to contend with when your family was famous for their stoic 'Keep Calm and Carry On' approach to life.

You wanted to protect the happiness you'd seemed to have found and Lando was inclined to agree. He wasn't a stranger to difficult relationships himself, never sure of what girl could be using him for clout or money. It was a strange feeling, but not at all unwelcome, when he realized that you were one of the few people in his life that didn't stand to gain something from your relationship with him.

Even so, the threat of being exposed still lingered, hazy off in the distant future. You both knew that it couldn't last forever, this little slice of paradise you'd built yourselves within the walls of hotels and townhomes. It would all come to an end but what came of that end was something neither of you wanted to touch with a ten foot pole. Because the outcomes were all terrifying and potentially heart breaking.

"Damn it." Your brother swears under his breath.

"Everything okay?" You ask, raising a brow when you see the frown on Sebastian's face.

"I just got an email from McLaren." Your heart stutters to a halt. "They invited me to the race in Spain next weekend but I already have things scheduled."

"I'll go." You say, just a touch too quickly.

"What's with the sudden interest in F1? First the Monaco race with Alice and now you're jumping at the chance to go to Spain?" Sebastian narrows his eyes at you and you momentarily think you've given yourself away.

"I had fun at that engagement at Silverstone. You and Michael are always talking racing. You've been to more races than I can count. It was bound to rub off, right?"

Biting your lip, you force yourself to stop the rush of words spilling form your mouth. Relax, you chide yourself as you pinch the space between your thumb and pointer finger to pull your attention away from what you just did.

Sebastian doesn't look away for a moment, almost like he's trying to figure out what your real motivation is for going to the race. You manage to hold eye contact with him, praying that you're doing enough to throw him off the scent.

"Fine. I'll let them know that you'll be there in my place." He says after a few tense moments, seemingly satisfied by your reasons.

The pulsing bass of the nightclub pulls you deeper and deeper under it's spell as you down your fourth drink of the night. Lando had finished on the podium behind Max just hours earlier and half the grid was out partying to celebrate. The race winner had been the one to invite you after the race and you had originally refused, not wanting to spend the evening watching Lando fight off girls trying to go home with him. You also didn't want to raise suspicion about the two of you being together so you had thought going straight back to the hotel and waiting for Lando to get back later that night would be a better choice.

In the end, it had been your protection officer Nathan of all people that had convinced you to go. He hated seeing you lock yourself away from experiencing normal things that other people your age were able to do without a second thought. So when he had overheard you turning down the invite from Max in the paddock after the race, he had pulled you aside.

'If you want to go out with them tonight, Dan and I are comfortable with it.' He had said discreetly as you had watched Max walk away. 'In fact, Dan and I think you should go out with them. Getting out of that hotel room will do you some good.' His gaze had found Lando then, who was walking towards you after completing his media duties after his podium. You briefly wondered how much he knew about what was going on between you and Lando. He hadn't said anything so far, but you knew your entire team was outside your townhome whenever you were home and they knew exactly who was coming and going at all times.

The entire weekend had been spent on the periphrial of Lando's world. He had shown you an appropriate amount of attention for someone who had only met you a handful of times, which to the outside world was exactly what you were to each other: aquaintences. Which was why you had supposed that going out with Lando and the rest of the group tonight was going to be okay. As long as you kept your distance, things would be okay.

Unfortunately, the alcohol had other ideas.

"You know, if you want to keep things secret between you and Lando, you should probably stop giving him heart eyes whenever you look at him." Max's deep voice startles you out of the trance you had been in on the edge of the VIP area of the club. Lando was at the bar across the room getting you another glass of whatever you'd been drinking that night and you hadn't taken your gaze off of him since he left the booth you were currently sitting in.

"I..." You stutter, trying to come up with a quick comeback but the alcohol has made your reaction time dull. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

Max laughs and shakes his head, "Don't try to deflect with me, your highness. You haven't stopped staring at him since he got up."

"Am I that obvious?" You don't even bother trying to argue, head tilting back to rest against the cool leather of the couch. Well, this was it. You knew the time was going to come when people found out about you. You just hoped Max would be discreet about what he just figured out.

"You both are so obvious, I'm surprised no one else has picked up on it."

"Fuck." You whisper, worrying your lip before allowing your eyes to dart back to where Lando is now crossing the dance floor with your drink in his hand.

"Hey, it's okay. I won't say anything. Trust me, I know how it feels to have your private life outed before you're even ready to have it all out there."

You glance at Max before your gaze finds Lando again, anxiety bunching in your chest when he sees your worried face and pulls a matching look. It was getting harder and harder to hide your feelings for him and as someone who had always had trouble not wearing your heart on your sleeve, all of the secrecy was beginning to wear on you. You just knew, deep down, that your parents would never accept you dating someone like Lando, with his reputation with women and lifestyle that was wholly not suited for someone like yourself.

"Everything okay?" Lando asks when he rejoins the table, eyes darting from you to Max. For a moment, as he had crossed the dance floor and saw you leaning in towards Max while he talked into your ear, jealousy flared deep in the pit of his stomach. Why did Max get to be so close to you when he didn't? Why couldn't he show you the affection in public that he got to show you in private?

He knew the answer to those questions, of course. Knew why you wanted to keep your private life private but just like you, he was beginning to feel chafed by all of the sneaking around. He wanted to tell people about you. He wanted to have you in the garage on race weekends and not just because your family had a partnership with McLaren. He wanted you in his garage, wearing his colors, rooting for him. He wanted to see you in parc ferme waiting for him after a win. He wanted to kiss you in public while he was sticky with sweat and champagne and camera's flashed around you. As he crossed the room and watched you cast worried glances at both him and Max, he began to wonder if any of that would be possible.

"Everything is fine!" You chirp, just a bit too happily.

Lando sees right through it.

"Do you want to dance?" He asks, voice low in your ear as he slips into the booth next to you. He idly wonders how far you're going to let him push this and hopes that you'll allow him to distract you from the mood that seems to have settled over you.

Maybe it's the fact that you're tired of hiding or maybe it has something to do with the amount of alcohol you've consumed tonight but something in you breaks at the look on his face. Like Lando so badly wants to be there for you and wants to make sure you have a good time tonight. You know he's reading your anxious posture and wants to fix whatever is bothering you, it's just how he is.

But whatever it is has you throwing caution to the wind and you find yourself nodding. "I'd love that."

Lando smiles like you've just agreed to bestow a knighthood on him and reaches out to take your hand. The VIP area the group is in is set up above the rest of the crowded club so it's possible for you two to fade into the background a little while still being around the people you came with.

"Have I told you that you look absolutely stunning tonight?" Lando whispers in your ear as he pulls you into his body, swaying with the deep bass that thumps through the club.

You can't help the giggle that escapes your lips as your arms snake up around his neck. "A few times, but I'm always open to hearing it a few more."

The temptation to kiss him is so strong, what with the way his curls are just slightly damp from sweat and his black t-shirt is clinging desperately to his toned biceps. You can see it in Lando's eyes too. It's in the way his gaze drops from your eyes down to your lips over and over again. It's in the way his fingers flex into the flesh of your hips, pulling you closer to the heat of his body. It's in the way his eyes darken a bit as he pulls you closer to the outside walls of the club, hiding the way you're clinging to his body from any prying eyes.

It's so dangerous and thrilling all at the same time.

"Your highness, we need to leave." Nathan's deep voice yanks you out of the trance you'd fallen into while in Lando's grasp.

Your head whips around to where Nathan and Dan stand a few feet away, both looking incredibly guilty for having to interrupt. "What? Why?"

You hate the way your questions come out as a whine.

"There were people taking pictures of you two. We think we got everyone of them deleted, but people have started to realize you're here and it's no longer secure. We caught three men trying to sneak into the VIP section saying that they wanted to get photos with you."

Embarrassment washes over you, heating your cheeks. You bury your head in Lando's shoulder, wanting to disappear. You had finally allowed yourself to let your guard down and this was what happened.

"Fine." You sigh, extracting yourself from Lando's clutches.

Nathan does something that surprises you then.

"Do you want to come back with us?" He asks Lando.

Your startle, not prepared for them to help you and Lando sneak around. Next to you, Lando looks equally as surprised. "You...I mean, we're just...fuck." He scrambles, looking frantically from you to Nathan, completely unsure of how to answer that.

While you had been quite certain that your entire security team was aware of you and Lando, he apparently had thought he was doing a better job of sneaking in and out of your townhome than he really was.

"Don't give us that." Dan chuckles from his spot behind Nathan. "We know you two are a thing. Anyone looking closely enough could see that."

You fight the urge to roll your eyes. This was the second time tonight you'd been called out for being obvious about your feelings for the driver.

Lando sheepishly palms the back of his neck as he gives you a shrug. "Of course I'm going back with her." He says like it's the most natural thing in the world.

"We'll take her out the front then. Wait five minutes and go out through the kitchen entrance in the back, we'll wait with the car there for you."

Lando nods before reaching out to give your hand a squeeze. "It'll be okay, babe. Let's just get you out of here."

Lando watches Dan escort you from the crowd but reaches out to catch Nathan's elbow before he has a chance to turn as well. "You're not going to tell her parents or anything, are you?" The last thing he wanted was for this to turn into drama with your family just because he wanted to go home with you.

Nathan shakes his head, "Our loyalty lies with the princess, not her parents. If we want her to trust us and allow us to do our job, we need to earn that trust. She's an adult, what she does in her personal life is none of their majesty's business. As long as she's safe, we won't say anything and from what we've all seen, she's safe with you."

Relief floods Lando's system at Nathan's words. "Thanks man."

Nathan nods quickly before turning around and following after you and Dan.

F1GossipandNews posted

F2GossipAndNews Apparently, on Sunday night while partying at the same place where several drivers were celebrating Max's win in Spain, several club goers were approached by 2 men claiming to be employees and forced to delete pictures of a certain papaya driver getting close to an unknown blonde. Not all the pictures were deleted though, dear readers!! We got a few sent into us but none showing the lucky girls face. No one in the crowd seemed to know who it was, but there were several pretty blondes in the VIP section that night, so it could have been anyone! user028 I heard the princess went out with the drivers after the race. >>>user201 she's so fucking boring, I doubt she did. and even if she did, are you saying a guy like Lando Norris would go for an uptight princess like her??? user111 my cousin was there last night and was one of the people who had the pictures deleted. No one could tell who it was, but they were all over each other all night. They didn't leave together though, she saw him duck out the back alone later that night. >>>user002 i wonder if it was that gigi girl from last year. they seemed pretty hot and heavy for a while then she just *poof* disappeared!

Lando pulls you closer to him in bed later that night, the room cool and dark as you struggle to come down from the adrenaline rush of the day. Your back presses into his bare chest as he nuzzles his head in the crook of your neck, breathing in the scent of the hotel's soap that still lingers on your bare skin.

The quiet of the hotel room is a stark contrast to the noise of the club that you two had spent the evening in, but here, you're able to fully relax and allow yourself the luxury of letting down your mask. It's the first time you've been able to do that all day and you cling onto the feeling of just existing in Lando's firm grasp. It wasn't often you two had the chance to spend the night together so when you did, you were determined to savor it.

"I'm sorry your celebration got cut short because of me." You whisper in the darkness, guilt taking a firm grip around your throat.

"I don't know what you're talking about, pretty girl." Lando murmurs in your ear before dropping a few open mouthed kisses on your bare shoulder. "This right here is all the celebration I need."

"I know, but you deserve to be with someone you can go out with in public..." The weight of sneaking around had felt crushing ever since you had picked Lando up in the alleyway behind the club that evening. This was no way to live, you had realized. It was no way to start a relationship and no way to continue one.

Lando tugs at your shoulder so you're forced to shift onto your back. He props himself up on his elbow before giving you a look. "Don't even start going down that road, princess. I deserve you and I'm willing to wait until you decide it's the right time to go public, whenever that is."

"What if there isn't a right time?" You whisper, your chest tightens painfully at the thought.

Lando blinks at you, seemingly knocked off guard by your statement. Were you trying to call this whole thing off? Panic skitters up his spine, unsure of what's going to come out of your mouth next. "What are you saying?"

You shrug, "I just...I'm scared. I'm scared someone will find out. I'm scared that my parents will lose their mind and forbid me from seeing you. I'm scared that you'll wake up one day and realize that being in my life isn't worth the price of admission."

The last one shatters Lando's heart because if only you knew how much he was falling for you, how much time he spent thinking about a future with you, and how much he was willing to sacrifice for you.

"It'll be hard, but baby I'm not going anywhere. I told you, I'm willing to wait as long as you need." He reaches up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear before kissing the tip of your nose. "Sneaking around is hard but I won't have to hide my girlfriend forever. And when we finally figure out the timing on all of this, I'm never going to shut up about how I'm dating the hottest princess in existence."

"Girlfriend?" You whisper, your brain stalled on the title you'd been dying to get from Lando for weeks now.

Lando blushes before carding his hands through his curls. Whoops. "I mean, isn't that what we're doing here?"

"I just don't recall being asked to be your girlfriend, Norris." You tease gently, leaning forward to nip at his bottom lip playfully.

Lando's grip on your waist tightens as he pulls you impossibly closer. He presses his lips into yours, sliding his tongue across the seam of your mouth so you'll open for him. The exploration is a familiar one, with him having spent many hours learning what makes you sigh, but every time it starts it feels like the first time for him. You feel different from the first time he kissed you, yet wholly the same. Like your DNA had been altered but just in the slightest so only the person closest to you is able to tell.

"Will. You. Be. My. Girlfriend?" Lando punctuates each word with a quick peck before settling back to kiss you deeper.

The thing you can do is laugh in response, smile pressed into his mouth so he knows how happy you are. "Of course." You whisper against him before you allow your lips to skim over his jaw and down the thick roped muscle of his neck.

Lando grabs a handful of your ass in an attempt to pull you even closer but all it does is make you wiggle against him, top leg hitching up over his waist. The groan that starts in the back of his throat when you wrap your legs around him is something feral that makes your spine tingle.

"You feel so good against me." He murmurs into that soft spot behind your ear before biting at your earlobe.

"Need you, Lan." You whimper into the crook of his neck, burying your head there out of embarrassment at how needy you are for him.

"Yeah? What do you need, baby?"

You roll your hips into his in an attempt to show him what you're craving: that sweet drag, in and out, again and again, of his length in you aching pussy.

"You're going to need to use your words, pretty girl." Lando chuckles, bumping his nose with yours when you let out a frustrated sigh.

"I want to feel you. All of you." You pant, cheeks flaming red.

Lando slips his hand beneath the band of your panties, the only thing separating his body from yours. His thick fingers trail down to your already molten center. He chuckles a little against your neck when he reaches his destination. You gasp at the sudden intrusion of the swirling fingers, keening in pleasure.

"Lan." You sigh, biting at the delicate skin of Lando's neck. You were going to leave a mark but Lando would take as many love bites as you chose to mark him with. If he could, he'd tattoo one on him so he'd never have to go without being marked by you ever again.

Lando rolls onto his back, pulling you with him so you're forced to straddle him. You grind down onto dick, frustrated that there's still so much fabric keeping you away from him being inside you.

"You are so needy tonight." Lando tuts, scraping his calloused fingers up and down the bare skin underneath his t-shirt you're wearing.

"Missed you all day." You whine.

"Want you to ride me. Show my how much you missed me. Can you do that for me, princess?" His voice is thick and full of gravel, scraping roughly against your already sensitive skin.

With a tap of your hip, he signals for you to rise up a bit so he can slip off his joggers and boxers all at once. When you lower yourself back down Lando sucks in a breath when your slick center swipes against his cock.

"Fuck." He hisses, squeezing his eyes shut.

You rock your hips back and forth, enjoying the way Lando sucks in a breath every time you work your hips against him. He wasn't even inside you yet and you were already on the verge of orgasm. Your hands trail up your torso before they settle on playing with your nipples as you bit your lip looking at Lando beneath you.

Lando, meanwhile, was trying to figure out how not to come right then and there before he even got inside you. The sight of you getting yourself off above him was almost too much to take. He knew that once he slipped inside you, filling you to the hilt, he wouldn't last much longer.

"Lando, need you inside me please." Even with you on top, you still deferred to Lando's need to be in control and it sets something feral off in him.

He grips at your hips, "Then ride me like the little slut you are."

The name he calls you sends an unexpected shock through your system, leaving your cunt to grip at the little bit of his dick that had just slipped in. Lando felt it though, knew what had sent your core spasaming against nothing. He grins up at you, devil incarnate with pleasure. "You liked that, didn't you? The proper little princess likes being my proper little whore?"

Lando steals your response from your throat by suddenly dropping you down full on his length in one swift thrust. All you can do is gasp, leaning backwards, hands planted on his legs, to steady yourself at the sudden pleasurable burn that rips through you.

"Oh my God." You gasp, eyes rolling in the back of your head.

Lando's pupils blow wide at the image above him. Your back arched in pleasure as you take him completely. It's a complete mystery as to how he doesn't come on the spot. His hips fuck up into you as you grind down onto him, the way Lando's cock is buried so deep in you something that only seems like a dream. How had Lando lived without you like this in his life? He didn't think he could ever go back now.

"You look so pretty taking me so good, princess." Lando's praise sends liquid fire pouring down your spine. "There you go, use me to get yourself off."

His encouragement has you feeling bold and you reach forward to roll your clit between your fingers, enjoying the double stimulation. Lando's hands continue to guide you back and forth against him as he rocks his hips in and out in a slow drag of steel against velvet.

The tightening in your spine has you gasping around Lando's name. "Don't stop." You beg, getting close to the orgasm you'd been craving all day.

Lando nearly loses it at how fucked out you sound, needing to feel you tighten around him as you come for him. "There you go, princess. I can feel you gripping me so good. Gonna come for me, my pretty little whore?"

The words send you over the edge, orgasm ripping through your body like a freight train. It's all you can do to keep from screaming out, biting down on your lip so hard you taste the metallic sting of blood. Lando follows you over the edge shortly after you tumble, painting your cunt with his release. The warmth that floods between your two bodies is so erotic, you nearly come a third time just from the thought of Lando beneath you.

For several moments, neither of you move. Your spent body is draped over Lando's sweaty one as you curl into him and his heat. "Good girl." Lando praises, kissing the top of your head. "Always so good for me." His voice is thick with emotion, spent from the weight of all that had happened tonight.

You whine at the sudden loss of him inside you when Lando lifts you off. He pads to the bathroom, getting a warm cloth to clean you up, your heart skittering at the after care.

When Lando slips beneath the sheets behind you, he pulls your bare body towards his, wrapping his arm around your waist. Just as you start to slip into the sweet release of sleep, fully relaxed as Lando holds you firmly against him, you swear you hear three whispered words that could change everything.

Your camera roll lately:

Lando’s camera roll lately:

Tag list:

@shelbyteller @formulaal @martygraciesversion381 @longhairkoo @samantha-chicago @stelena-klayley @dark-night-sky-99 @luckylampzonkland @chlmtfilms @aykxz98 @forensicheart @cheer-bear-go-vroom @lieutenantchaos @willowsnook @sltwins @linnygirl09 @meglouise00 @mixedstyles @strawberryy-kiwii @secret-agents-stole-my-bunnies @mrosales16 @charlesgirl16 @leclercdream @eloriis @daemyratwst @dramaticpiratellamas @mochimommy2002 @bibissparkles @llando4norris @chelseyyouraverageluigi @iamaunknownsecret @maxivstappen @imlonelydontsendhelp @nina-or-anna-or-nora @a1leexxa @littlegrapejuice @sunflowervol18 @freyathehuntress @finn-dot-com @swiftie-4-lifes-stuff @chirasama @lauralarsen @dr3wstarkey @saskiaalonso

[iamtired10]

what the hell is love anyway!?

synopsis: love is supposed to suck, but damn, she’s making it look good. the things you used to hate? she does them all—and somehow, you’re okay with it.

pairing: pham hanni x female reader

genre: fluffyyy, slow acceptance of feelings

word count: 1.7k

warning: reader’s anti-romantic philosophy, no-touch boundaries, kisses... idk man.

a/n: birthday gift for u gaysss (no for me)

y'all are so lucky i love you guys bc i literally skipped paying attention to my crush's debate rounds to write this. everyone was watching in the auditorium and there i was focused on this instead (btw my crush won the debate 😫)

you always thought love was a scam—a packaged lie wrapped in clichés and false promises.

people called it magical, but to you, it was just a hassle. all that hand-holding, constant texting, and clinging to each other’s personal space?

gross.

you’d made peace with being alone.

then pham hanni came along.

it wasn’t like you fell for her overnight.

it started with the small things.

her goofy smile, the way she made everyone laugh, how her voice softened when she spoke to you.

she was the type of person who could win over a room with a single joke, and while you weren’t the type to be easily charmed, something about her stuck in your mind like a catchy song.

but liking her didn’t mean you’d signed up for the full “love” package.

or so you thought.

spamming messages

at first, it was cute.

hanni would send you random texts during the day:

“have you eaten?”

“look at this dog i saw today!”

“I MISS YOUUUUUUUUU!!!!”

“where are you? :3”

“let's meet plsssss”

you didn’t mind the occasional check-in or funny meme.

but then it escalated.

your phone buzzed relentlessly during class, notifications piling up like an avalanche.

p.hn

what are you doing?

are you ignoring me??

i bet you’re doing something boring without me

y/n i’m going to cry if you don’t answer

answer me plsss

im dying without your attention...

ok fine

ignore me all you want

bye?

bye????

BYEEE!!!

:(((((

you used to hate it when people bombarded your phone. you had once ghosted a friend for triple texting.

but with hanni?

you sighed, typed out a response, and felt strangely warm when she replied immediately with a heart emoji.

hand-holding

physical touch wasn’t your thing.

the idea of holding someone’s hand always made you cringe—clammy palms and awkward positioning?

no, thanks.

but hanni had a way of breaking down your walls without even trying.

the first time she grabbed your hand, it was instinctive. you were crossing a busy street, and she reached for you, her fingers slipping between yours like it was the most natural thing in the world.

your first reaction was to pull away.

but when you glanced at her, her brows furrowed in focus as she guided you across, your protests caught in your throat.

by the time you were safely on the other side, she hadn’t let go.

“you okay?” she asked, smiling up at you like it wasn’t a big deal.

you nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat.

the weirdest part? you didn’t hate it.

hugs

you had a strict “no hugs” policy.

friends knew better than to even attempt it.

but hanni was a serial hugger.

she didn’t just hug; she wrapped herself around you like a blanket, her chin resting on your shoulder as if she belonged there.

at first, you stiffened every time she came near, your brain screaming, why is she touching me?

but one day, after a long, awful day, she hugged you without warning.

her arms were warm, her scent comforting, and instead of pushing her away, you found yourself melting into her embrace.

“feel better?” she asked softly.

you couldn’t bring yourself to admit it, but yeah, you did.

late-night calls

you hated phone calls.

they felt intrusive, unnecessary, and way too intimate.

so when hanni called you at 1 a.m., your first instinct was to ignore it.

but then you thought about her pouting on the other end, and before you knew it, you were swiping to answer.

“what?” you mumbled, already regretting it.

“i couldn’t sleep,” she said, her voice soft and a little raspy. “wanted to hear your voice.”

you groaned, but your heart betrayed you, skipping a beat at her words. “it’s the middle of the night, hanni.”

“i know,” she whispered. “but you sound cute when you’re annoyed.”

despite your best efforts, a small smile crept onto your face. damn her and her stupid charm.

kisses

kisses were overrated.

sloppy, awkward, and unnecessary—at least, that’s what you used to think.

but hanni had a way of making even the most mundane things magical. the first time she kissed you, it wasn’t planned.

she was rambling about something, her eyes bright with excitement, and before you could think, she leaned in and pressed her lips to yours.

it wasn’t dramatic or earth-shattering.

it was soft, sweet, and over too quickly.

when she pulled back, she looked at you nervously, biting her lip. “was that okay?”

you stared at her, heart pounding. “it was fine. . .”

fine was an understatement.

cuddles

cuddling was the ultimate invasion of personal space. you couldn’t understand why people willingly turned themselves into human pretzels just to feel close to someone.

but her?

she didn’t ask.

she just flopped onto you one afternoon, her head resting on your chest as she scrolled through her phone.

“what are you doing?” you asked.

“getting comfortable,” she replied nonchalantly.

you wanted to push her off, but her warmth seeped into you, relaxing muscles you hadn’t even realized were tense.

“fine,” you muttered. “but don’t move too much.”

she grinned, nuzzling closer. “i love you too.”

nicknames

you weren’t big on nicknames either.

they felt unnecessary and a little too mushy for your taste.

but she was relentless.

“baby,” she cooed one morning, poking your cheek as you sat groggily at the table. “what do you want for breakfast?”

you froze, blinking at her. “did you just call me... baby?”

“yeah. why?” she tilted her head innocently, like she hadn’t just thrown your entire morning into chaos.

“don’t.” you tried to sound stern, but the heat creeping up your neck betrayed you.

“okay, love.” She grinned, clearly enjoying herself.

“stop.”

“alright, sweetheart.”

you groaned, burying your face in your hands. “you’re... a-annoying...”

“and you love me for it,” she teased, planting a kiss on your temple.

and she was right.

watching a movie

movie nights with hanni were… an experience.

you’d always prided yourself on being someone who actually watched movies—no talking, no distractions, just pure focus.

but hanni? she was the complete opposite.

“wait, who’s that?” she asked five minutes in, pointing at the screen.

“that’s the main character,” you replied patiently.

“right, right.”

another ten minutes passed. “why is she crying?”

you sighed, pausing the movie. “hanni, if you’d been watching—”

“i was! kind of.” She pouted, tugging on your sleeve. “sorry, baby. keep playing it, please.”

you rolled your eyes, but when she cuddled into your side, resting her head on your shoulder, you let it slide.

by the end of the movie, she’d fallen asleep, her soft snores filling the room. you looked at her, brushing a strand of hair from her face.

yeah, you couldn’t stay mad at her.

stealing your hoodies

your wardrobe was sacred.

you hated it when people borrowed your clothes without asking.

but then there was hanni, strutting around in your favorite hoodie like she owned it.

“is that mine?” you asked, narrowing your eyes.

she looked down, feigning innocence. “oh, this? it was just sitting there, so…”

you opened your mouth to protest, but then she turned to face you, the oversized hoodie making her look impossibly small and adorable.

“you... can have it,” you muttered, averting your gaze.

her grin was victorious. “i know.”

early mornings

you weren’t a morning person.

waking up early was your personal hell, and you avoided it at all costs.

but hanni had a habit of waking up before the sun and dragging you along for the ride.

“y/n, wake up!” she whispered excitedly, shaking you gently.

“go away,” you mumbled, pulling the blanket over your head.

“but i made coffee,” she said, her tone teasing. “and pancakes.”

your stomach growled, betraying you. you groaned, sitting up reluctantly.

she smiled triumphantly, handing you a mug. “see? mornings aren’t so bad.”

you sighed, glaring at her over the rim. “they are. you’re just annoying.”

“i love you too,” she shot back, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek before skipping away.

singing randomly

you weren’t a fan of noise, especially when you were trying to focus.

but hanni was a walking jukebox, always humming or breaking into song at the most random moments.

“can you stop?” you’d grumble, trying to concentrate on your work.

“stop what?” she’d reply innocently, twirling around the room as she belted out a love song.

you’d glare at her, but deep down, you couldn’t help smiling.

especially when she changed the lyrics to include your name.

poking your cheeks

hanni had an odd obsession with your cheeks. she’d poke them at every opportunity, claiming they were “too squishy to resist.”

“do you mind?” you snapped one day, swatting her hand away.

“not at all,” she replied cheerfully, poking you again.

you huffed, but when she giggled and kissed the spot she’d just poked, you let it slide.

showing up unannounced

you liked your alone time, and you hated surprises.

so when hanni started showing up at your place unannounced, you were less than thrilled.

“don’t you ever knock?” you asked as she waltzed into your living room.

“why would i? it’s me,” she replied, flopping onto your couch like she owned the place.

you rolled your eyes, but the truth was, you didn’t really mind.

because with Hanni, even the things you used to hate felt… okay.

personal space

you were a fortress, a private island, a lone wolf.

but pham hanni was a storm, relentless and impossible to ignore.

she broke through your defenses without even trying.

she sat too close, invaded your bubble, and left her things scattered around your space like she belonged there.

and you let her.

because somewhere along the way, you stopped seeing it as an intrusion and started seeing it as her way of showing she cared.

by the time you realized how much she’d changed you, it was too late. she’d already wormed her way into every corner of your life, breaking down every wall you’d carefully built.

and honestly? you didn’t hate it.

as she sat beside you one night, her head resting on your shoulder and her fingers playing with yours, you finally admitted it to yourself.

you didn’t just like her.

you loved her.

hanni glanced up at you, her eyes sparkling. “what’s on your mind?”

“nothing,” you replied, squeezing her hand. “just you.”

and for the first time, that didn’t scare you.

a/n: i promised myself i wouldn't write anything this month so i could focus on studying, but i missed writing too much

now i feel like i suck even more than before :'D

[psychebutterflysol]

"𝗜 𝗟𝗢𝗩𝗘 𝗬𝗢𝗨"

a/u: i like doomed relationships. this is just a prologue. next chapter would be real teehee. can you guess where the reader would be reborn?

warning: death, implied unhealthy relationship.

Your life was normal, halting from a wealthy family and ended up with a well-paid job.

The little diamond ring around your finger spoke volumes of the engagement with your beloved fiancee.

There was something that felt missing in your life though.

It was mundane, waking up to an excessively needy lover, who you didn't know if your feelings remained like the first time, plus enduring some bad rumors because you were privileged.

The butterflies previously resided in your stomach morphed into skull moths, and you weren't sure if you could contain them anymore.

Lingering touches and gazes started to seem overbearing, too suffocating, like vines wrapped around your form.

It was another exhausting anniversary of your five-year relationship, and while you were heading back home, texting with your betrothed, you were stabbed from behind.

The sky had already been coated in darkness, the streets had been emptied throughout, all were a perfect formula for a murder.

Being rich was a bitch was your dazed thought, as blood gushed out, red tainted the outfit you loved.

Blots danced in your vision, and when you messaged back a meaningless 'I love you', you officially died.

At least you escaped that boring existence, right?

Fate decided to toy with you by placing you in Genshin Impact, a game you spent most time investing in.

You remembered being proud of your C8 Qiqu and DPS Furina since you usually dragged the sooner to co-op.

So you spent two unremarkable years in Fontaine as a florist, while concealing your knowledge about the future, for all the fanfic you read, and since this world worshipped the Creator too.

You didn't want to get outed as this enigmatic possible imposter or deal with the characters' religious frenzies.

Furina was an interesting case to observe, and Neuvilette often made a few appearances there and then.

Melusines sometimes ran around before your shop, requesting beautiful bouquets.

Business was doing well, not worldwide famous nor near the bridge of close down, just an average shop you expected from an NPC

Strangely enough, you didn't feel guilty for abandoning your fiancee, instead enjoying the fresh freedom you longed for.

Away from her keen eyes, slimy fingers, and unnecessary jealousy.

Recently, there had been rumors about the appearance of a person who proclaimed herself to be the saintess, sent by the Creator.

You could already sense Furina's fuming in the court, and other archons' demeanors.

Oh well, you would just return back to work and watch as another Sagau Imposter fanfic unfolded. Surely, nothing could go wrong-

"[Name]?"

Fuck.

Out of all people, it was her all alone.

Her eyes, filled with twisted feelings, disgusted you.

Her figure engulfed you whole into an embrace, squeezing the breath of your body.

What made it worse, was that you had overestimated the characters' intelligence, and they genuinely believed she was the one.

You could feel their eyes prickling against your skin as you frantically pushed her away, ignoring the shakes of your body and the ragged breaths.

They didn't understand why the vessel of the benevolent and caring God was rejected by this mere mortal.

In their eyes, you should have been overjoyed upon being pampered by the saintess.

And so, the tranquility you experienced shattered easily underneath the pressure of these beings.

Your shop was demolished, your reputation was torn apart, and your privacy was out of the picture, as you were regarded as the saintess's lover.

Oh, if only they knew the saintess considered you her god.

You lost yourself to the person you vowed to stay away.

But the Fatui wasn't happy.

Tsarista was fuming, assuming you had cast a spell on her.

She sent her loyal followers to chase after you, in secret of course.

In the end, you were accused of fraud, tax evasion, and many other crimes.

The execution was held in front of the people, as the saintess drowned herself in sorrow and desperation, you died.

Your body sank deeper into the ocean, red blood mixed with the water, and your eyes closed.

It should have been you.

You were the one who arrived first.

Hell, you even helped more people than her! You knew more things about this forsaken game than her!

Stop looking at you with such pity!

Just because you were being rightfully paranoid didn't mean you were stupid!

There was a tale of a picturesque saintess and a mysterious traveler, alongside a weird creature.

They embarked on a journey to the seven lands of Teyvat.

What a shame, you died even before the story began.

"oh issue of the stars, may fate beest so kind to blesseth thee with anoth'r chance. may teyvat learneth to loveth thee, liketh how the 'saintess' loveth thee. "

[eumivrse]

warning(s) pure angst, jjk chapter 120 SPOILERS

arguments with kento are always the worst.

you’ve learned over the years that you’d probably prefer it if he would just scream back when he’s mad rather than being dead silent.

because when he’s angry, he doesn’t speak. he just gives you space to cool off, then he always makes sure to kiss you before you sleep. a way to let you know that tomorrow is a new day and he still loves you the same even if things are heated; that you can always talk it out with him.

you hate it because he always, always apologizes first even if it’s your fault sometimes, but you always appreciated his way of communicating. it’s as if he would rather take the jab every time than have you mad at him.

however, he couldn’t do so that day— october 31, 2018. he had to go to shibuya and left with tension between the two of you. you don’t even remember what exactly you argued about— all you recall was that it ended with you both saying something that could’ve easily passed as unforgivable, words specifically chosen to wound each other’s feelings.

and as per, kento gave you your space and left with you having the last word.

except you never got that good night’s kiss.

when news reached you, you didn’t even react. how could you? the last words you said to him was “then leave already,” with the coldest, meanest tone you’ve ever spoken to him in.

you just stared at the wall for what seemed like days. people were calling you non stop, but your phone was turned off. you hadn’t even left your shared bedroom. the comforter still had his scent on it and you’re afraid that it’ll disappear if you get up for even a minute and then his passing will feel real.

it wasn’t until ino stopped by to drop off his cellphone— one of the only traces he left that night— that you did something else besides laying down. you stared at kento’s scuffed lock screen, sitting at the dim dining room table.

his wallpaper was a photo of you. he took it while you were eating in the very place you’re sitting in right now and you begged him for days to delete it. he insisted that you looked pretty so you let him be. he’d always been like that, so stern with others but he had such a soft spot for you.

you knew his password because it was your anniversary date, then the messaging app opened as soon as you punched the numbers in. it’s your chat, the last conversation you had on there was him asking if you wanted to eat outside because he was free the next morning and you obliged. that was the night before you had an argument the next day and lunch plans were cancelled.

he had an unsent message— all typed out, but he never pressed the send button for some reason.

he was apologizing for hurting you.

he said that he knows it’s been tough for you these days and how he should’ve seen the signs sooner instead of thinking everything’s okay.

then he apologized again for not being able to kiss you goodnight, and for being a shitty husband that couldn’t tend to his wife’s needs.

the message concluded with “i miss you, my precious girl. make sure to eat and sleep well, i’ll make it up to you soon.”

kento’s death hadn’t hit your reality until those words on the screen registered in your mind. your dry, pale lips from barely drinking water trembled, eyes welled up in tears for the first time since you found out. so many different emotions crashed over you in such little time, your chest felt tight and you let go of his phone, clattering onto the wooden table.

“then leave already,” replayed in your mind over and over and the way his face turned pale from your harsh words. with how things turned out, it almost sounded like you were sending him on death’s row and it made you feel like you’re responsible somehow.

guilt loomed over you like a stormy cloud for making him feel like he wasn’t good enough for you and you wonder how different the future might’ve turned out if you’ve at least gave him a hug before he left.

if you could’ve just set your pride aside and kissed him goodbye like he does with you before you sleep.

and if he still loved you the same at his final moments.

[hughesyodaddy43]

Just maybe ⎸ N.H

Pairings: Nico Hischier x reader genre: friends to lovers Warnings: swearing, fluff synopsis: when a hopeless romantic doesn't pick up on hints. word count: 2.3k authors note: first Nico fic! i hope you like it. Requests are open. missing the devils rn :(

Nico, Nico, Nico was all your mind would wander to, from late nights to early mornings your mind was crowded with the thought of him.

From every text to every lingering touch your heart ached for him.

Him.

The captain of the New Jersey devils.

Him. 

The Swiss man who lives across the hall from you. 

Him and his cute accent. 

Him and the way his eyes light up when he smiles.

Him. Nico Hischier.

This was never new to you, love that is or more so how easily you love. Ever since you were young your mind and body was plagued by the thought of romance. You knew you were a hopeless romantic, how could you not be? Growing up you craved having love like in the movies. Was this the reason for your many heartbreaks? yes .

After every heartbreak your craving for love grew stronger, wanting to be held and kissed and loved just like you do, being cared for the way you care for others.

Unfortunately as of right now the only romantic tropes that had come to life for you was unrequited love. Living in the shadows of someone else's love and loss.

Nico knew about your love for romance movies, he knew you so well and it hurt you knowing that he would never love you the same way you love him. But your mind couldn't help but wonder, just maybe. What if he liked you back? 

Just maybe did the tighter squeeze of his hugs mean something? could the way he plays your favourite songs whenever he is driving you somewhere be a sign? Could the way he holds your hand when moving through large crowds be a hint to something more? Or is it when he always sends you a good morning text when he wakes up?

Perhaps, just maybe did he love you back?

Your thoughts were interrupted when you saw your phone screen light up on your kitchen bench. You place down your warm cup of coffee and reach to read whatever it was that lit your phone up bright. A sigh left your lips when you read the notification, revealing that it wasn't from Nico. you were so far gone, the thought of replying to other people sometimes felt daunting or annoying but replying to nico felt light and effortless. Like you could talk to him for ever and ever without running out of things to say or feeling uncomfy.

Instead the notification was from tinder, your pathetic attempt at getting over the hockey player was to surround yourself with other equally attractive men. 

However that was not the case, whatever dates you'd go on you couldn't keep your mind away from Nico. no man in your eyes was as good as him. The thought of anyone else felt foreign whereas Nico felt warm and homey.

Most of the dates you went on were unfavourable and rather unpleasant. You never were one for quick hookups due to your very annoying habit of catching feelings so fucking your way out of this slump was not an option for you, despite your girlfriends suggesting so.

You pull yourself back out of your trance when you receive a text message from your best friend, Stacie - regarding your plans for breakfast this morning. You pause for a second, reading the time that displays in the top corner of your phone, answering swiftly to confirm your whereabouts and ETA. 

You turn your speaker on and press shuffle on your playlist, attempting to drown your thoughts as you get ready for the day. 

X 

You finish up your makeup and manoeuvre your way back around to the front door, grabbing your bag and filling it with whatever junk you may possibly need incase of a very uncommon emergency. 

You walk out into the hallway, locking your door tightly. You turn around and are met with big brown eyes you have grown very familiar with. He sends you a warming smile, in turn making your lips curl into an unintentional smile. Your cheeks burn up as you step forward towards the tall swiss hockey player, meeting him on the other side of the hallway.

“Hey!” you speak, hoping to disguise your excitement.

“Hello” nico respondes, tucking his keys into his pocket. “Where are you off to?” he adds, shifting his weight from his foot to the wall, leaning against it. 

“Gonna go meet stacie at the cafe down the street for breakfast, you?” you ask, tilting your head slightly, still smiling embarrassingly wide. “Morning practice, which i was gonna ask if you were coming to the game tonight?” he asks, smiling slightly, causing his dimples to appear.

His eyes god his eyes, sparkling under the light, staring deeply into your own. 

“Of course I am! Wouldn't miss it, especially when I get special treatment from the captain.” you say, lightly punching his arm. Nico laughs, redirecting himself to stand up straight, “anything for you” he answers with a wink, turning his body towards the elevator. You stand there for a second, trying to stop yourself from turning completely red. 

Nico waits for you to walk with him towards the elevator, the two of you slipping comfortably into a natural conversation.

You make it to the front of the apartment building, ending the intriguing conversation about playoff hockey and whatnot. 

“Do you need a quick ride? I don't mind driving you?” Nico asks, stepping towards you.

“Nah, I'll be okay to walk. Thank you tho” you reply.

Nico nods and goes in for a hug only to be turned down by you rejecting the advance to turn it into a simple fist bump, cringing at yourself for the gesture. Nico looked a bit stunned at the rejection but shakes it off with a light chuckle, returning the fist bump. 

“I'll see you at the game, Schatzi” Nico says, turning to walk towards the car park. You stand there for a second, running your hand through your hair “what the fuck was that? A fist bump??” you mutter under your breath before being interrupted by your phone ringing 

“Hello?” 

“Hurry up.” the phone call abruptly ends, putting two and two together you register that the unknown caller was stacie asking you to get your ass to the cafe.

You walk down the street,enjoying the sun that has peeked out through the clouds. You admire the atmosphere that surrounds the sidewalk, passing your way through the crowds and delicate shops placed around the streets.

Unfortunately for you all you could think about was Nico and his stupid cute dimples and his stupid fluffy hair and his stupid big brown eyes.

You find your way to the cafe, meeting Stacie at the outdoor seats. 

“Finally you show up, I thought you died” Stacie says, standing up to hug you, her long Auburn hair tied half up, neatly falling just away from her face. 

“Got caught up, sorry” you apologies, sitting down across from the girl. “From mr dimples i hope” she teases, sipping her pre- ordered latte with a smirk. I roll my eyes away from her, snickering. “Oh my god, it was him wasn't it?” her big eyes widened at the realisation. You don’t reply, simply smiling to yourself, playing with your fingers  in your lap. 

“Well you can tell me when your drink gets here, i got you a mocha since you were too late to order for yourself” Stacie chides. “Thanks Stac, you're too kind” you joke.

Your drink comes and the two of you order your food. Stacie looks at you with a playful smile, leaning forward to rest her head in her hands “so..what did you two talk about?” she  chimes. “Just..hockey or whatever” you shrug. “Mhm” her lips curl into a smirk “you should just tell him you like him” “what?no no i can't, we are just friends.” i defend.

If almost pre planned your phone vibrates on the table, revealing a very suggestive message from Nico 

Nico: can’t wait to see you tonight ;)

“What was that?” stacie questions, raising her eyebrow “can't wait to see you tonight? Hmm seems a little too friendly if you ask me”  she mocks “its nothing, i'm going to his game tonight.” you beat off.

“Listen, you've loved him pretty much since you've met him, call him a friend or whatever but I know how friends act and trust me, he likes you for sure. I mean you've been on so many dates with other guys to get over him and how many of them have actually been successful?” she monologues, pausing to take a bite of her fresh banana bread. 

“Trust me, he doesn’t think about me like that” you tally. “Well I'm just saying , you only live once and if you can't get over him then you might as well confess to him. At least if he rejects you then you can get closure and move on'' she states, once again leaving you speechless for a few seconds. She starts up once again after reading your worn expression.

“I've seen the way he looks at you yk?” your eyes meet hers “how does he look at me?” you question, confusing, staying evident in your expression. “Like he never wants to look away” she reveals. Once again sipping on her drink. 

“Hmmm I mean i've never seen anyone else around his place, and when we go out he doesn't really talk to any other girls.” you recall “ exactly, just give it a go. It's not like the world will end.” she finishes before swiftly changing the subject to one of her new boy toys of the month.

‘The world won't end’ you suppose the world won't end in the literal sense but what if he stops talking then it might as well end. It's dramatic but your whole day revolves around even the smallest thought of nico.. What are you even supposed to think about otherwise?

surely  just maybe he might like you, granted that everything stacie says is true, perhaps you should take your shot sooner than later.

X

X

Your heart beats steadily as you arrange your hair in half up pigtails, wrapping the hair tie with red and white ribbon. You unfortunately didn't have a jersey for this game so instead you decided to sport a white tank top with a red sweater in support of the devils. 

Once again your mind grows to Nico, the excitement of seeing him runs through your veins. You were never nervous or anxious to be around nico, if anything you felt safer and warmer around him, that is except now. The weight of what sense Stacie knocked into you really stuck in your mind. You couldn't help but wonder if you should confess and if it's even a good decision.

Your worries are cut short when you look at the time and quickly make your way to the front door, checking yourself out in the mirror one last time before slipping your shoes on and making your way to the prudential centre.

X

You walk into the arena, finding your seat comfortably in the stands, watching the warmups. Nico had asked you to meet him before the game. He said that he wanted to see you. After warmups you make your way to the hallway that leads out onto the ice, waiting patiently for nico to come see you.

He makes his way towards you, standing directly in front of you. He stands there, waiting for you to snap out of whatever trance your mind has put you in. your fiddling with your fingers, staring at your shoes, picking at your nails lightly. 

“You shouldn't pick at your nails” Nico says, reaching out to hold your hand. His voice pulls you out and startles you, you jump and flinch your hands away from him.

“Woah, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you.” he apologises, eyes filled with remorse as he looks down at you. “No it's okay, just didn't realise you were there” you console, letting him reach for your hands once again, this time not flinching back. It's at this point that the other teammates are making their way back out to start the game. “When is the game gonna start?” you ask 

“in a few minutes” he replies “just wanted to see you before it started” he adds, leaving you, standing there without a word “hey, what's going on inside that pretty head of yours?” he asks, bending down to read your face, his voice is calm and steady. 

A sudden surge of confidence overwhelms you. 

Fuck it. 

You lean upwards, moving your body closer to his to attach your lips onto his. He is taken by surprise but it's not long before he shakes his glove off of his hand and reaches out to take hold of the back of your neck, pulling you in deeper. 

You pull yourself away with a sharp inhale of air, nico face falling in a frown as you pull away. 

“I like you.” you confess. 

Nico stares at you, lips curling into a smile, his dimples becoming defined upon his cheeks.

“Yeah, I noticed.” he says, lowering his head back down to kiss your cheek. 

Nico simply winks and jogs away towards the ice, looking back with a wide smile and blushed cheeks. The loud hollers and chirps are heard from the other devils players as they disappear through the doorway and onto the ice.

You make your way back to the stands, sitting down and watching the boys skate around , Nico playing perfectly as always. With best efforts, the game ends in a tight win, in favour of the devils. The crowd makes their way out of the arena and you're met with one more message from nico.

Nico: Meet me in the parking lot after the game, my car is parked around the corner. I'd like to take you to dinner if you're up for it?

Your face lights up, a smile breaking out, you bite your lip as you answer a yes, making your way towards his car.

Maybe.

Just maybe…

He does love you back.

[thebigbadbatswife]

Your Eyes Whispered, "Have We Met?”

Pairing - Batman x F!Hero!Reader Series - Under Your Skin Previous Part - Sticking Noses Where They Don't Belong

Summary - During a party, you meet Gotham’s most eligible bachelor. The more that you’re around him, the more familiar he is to you.

Warnings - Explicit language, POV alternates between Reader and Bruce. (If I missed anything, lmk!)

Taglist - Taglist is at the end of the fic. As always, if you would like to be added/removed, feel free to message me!

A/N - No current ETA for the next part, but I am hoping for it to be ready toward the end of the month (no promises though, December can keep me very busy). Hope you all enjoy this part! 💜

Word Count - 4.2k

Your hands smoothed over the front of your dress as you looked yourself over in your floor length mirror. Once again, your injuries had healed well. All bruising and swelling along your ribs and arm was completely gone, each breath no longer hurting. And all you had to remind yourself of the bullet that almost took your life was a nasty looking scar. At least it was in an easily hidden place.

Tonight you were headed for a party. It was one of those extravagant festive parties that happened close to the end of the year, which you honestly didn’t even like to begin with, but you had to attend to keep up appearances within your circles. Otherwise you were risking questions that didn’t have answers to them.

You just had to suck it up for a few hours and before you knew it, you would be back home, huddled beneath a blanket with a cheesy movie on the tv that you could fall asleep to.

Taking a deep breath, you stepped away from the mirror to grab your clutch purse and coat. The sooner you arrived, the sooner it could be over with.

The venue was dressed to the nines, as expected. Large, gaudy decorations cover the place with a ridiculous large tree to match, set off into one corner of the ballroom. It was a complete and utter eyesore. You no longer bothered with this sort of stuff anymore. Since your father had passed you hadn’t really seen the point.

Your eyes were drawn to him from the moment that he walked into the room. Outside of occasionally catching a morning talk show or the articles you scroll past on social media, you never thought that you would actually see him. 

Bruce Wayne. Gotham’s most eligible bachelor for the longest time. 

What was he doing here? 

He didn’t exactly run within the same circles that you did. Though you were rich, you were not that sort of rich. He was old money. The sort of rich that preferred to stay in their tight stuffy circles while looking down at everyone else. Their philanthropy only happening when it benefited them.

Yet, here he was.

As soon as he had stepped into the ballroom, that dazzling white smile of his on his face, gasps had rippled through the room. Those gasps were quickly replaced by whispers. People leaning in close to each other, not even being subtle about it as they all asked the exact same question. “Did you know he was coming here?”. Meanwhile men and women alike swooned each time he looked in their general direction. Honestly, they might as well had been drooling all over the floor the way that they were looking at him.

There was no woman on his arm. No entourage following close behind and kissing his ass. He was completely by himself and, from what you could gage from the people around you, that made him all the more intimidating.

Sure, he was attractive in that irritating type of way where it was clear that he not only knew he was hot, but also used it to his advantage. Of course, if he did somehow end up in your bed you certainly wouldn’t throw him out of it. At the same time your brain was quick to remind you how much of a womanizer he was. An endless stream of articles from over the years detailing every breakup to new relationship to one night stands and back again. 

And not to mention that, despite your money and the news coverage that had happened following your father’s death, you continued to remain relatively unknown to the outside world. Getting involved with a man like Bruce Wayne could potentially ruin that and leave your superhero identity compromised. 

That, obviously, couldn’t be allowed to happen. Which made him the sort of person that you definitely didn’t want to get involved with.

Still, your gaze lingered on him. There was something about him. Something familiar. And not because you had seen him through a screen before now. No. It was something else that was holding your attention and you couldn’t put your finger on exactly what it was.

You averted your gaze away from him and snatched up a glass of champagne from the silver tray of a passing waiter. 

You mingled with the other guests, chatting to new and familiar faces alike. All the while you did your best to make sure that you avoid Bruce. Physically, so far, it was working well. Verbally though? That was a different story. It felt like you couldn’t escape him. No matter who you spoke to. He was everywhere.

It definitely didn’t help that he kept on catching your eye. Something was really… off about him. It was the only word you could think of that really fit. And it continued to bug you.

At that moment, from across the ballroom, his eyes met yours. You felt frozen, like a deer in headlights as he looked you over. There was no lust or desire in his eyes. Only curiosity. A question was clear in his eyes. The same one that had been on your mind from the moment he walked in.

“Have we met?”

You didn’t wait for him to find an excuse to break away from the group that had surrounded him. You broke your gaze first and swapped your empty glass for a full one.

As you moved through the room, your eyes landed on someone that you were definitely happy to see.

Erica had been your best friend ever since you had been little. While you had drifted apart from each other during your teenage years, after you had returned you had reconnected with each other. In the years you were gone for, she had taken over her father’s tech company and, when you were sure you could trust her with your plan, she had started to draw up designs for your suit and gear. 

She was also the person who had thrown tonight’s party. Tonight she had picked out a nice purple, velvet suit to wear.

Her dark brown eyes lit up when she saw you. She broke away from the group she was with and walked across the room to you. You hug each other tightly as it had been a while since you had actually seen each other, following the injuries you had received at the amusement park.

“So, how’s that outfit I gifted you?” she asked as you pulled away.

You looked around, making sure that no one was close enough to overhear before turning back to her. “It didn’t stop a bullet,” you said in a hushed voice.

“Fuck,” Erica replies, barely hiding her surprise. “That explains why you vanished.”

You nodded as you took a sip from your glass.

“I’ll swing by and pick it up at the end of the week,” she told you. “I’ll find my mistake and fix it.”

“It’s not your fault,” you started, but she cut you off with a sharp look.

“I made you something that was supposed to protect you and you almost… well, you know. That’s unacceptable.” 

You sighed softly. As you were about to reply, the sound of obnoxious laughter caught your attention. Bruce Wayne was surrounded by a gaggle of people. Men and women shamelessly throwing themselves at him and he was drinking it all in. The disgust must of been evident on your face because Erica laughed.

“Damn, you don’t like him, do you?”

You scoffed softly. “Eh I just don’t like the whole womanising bullshit.” 

The voice in the back of your head kept telling you that you knew him. No matter how much you pushed against it. Insisting that it wasn’t possible. You had never crossed paths with him. If you had you were certain that you would remember it.

“Fair. Though, if the internet is anything to go by, he’s not a bad lay,” Erica said.

You rolled your eyes. “I doubt it’s worth the attention that comes with it.” 

There was the sudden sound of glass shattering and Erica’s head snapped in the direction as her brow furrowed. She sighed. “If you’ll excuse me.” As she walked away to deal with whatever mess had befallen the staff, she stopped for a moment and turned back to you. “Listen, if you get a chance to, I say jump him. Have some fun for once, you know? It’s not like you’ll ever have to see him again afterwards.” She winked at you, leaving before you could tell her she was crazy to think that you would ever “jump” Bruce Wayne.

You couldn’t believe that she had actually suggested to you to sleep with Bruce Wayne, of all people. Nor that, the gripes you had about him aside, it wasn’t entirely unappealing. It had been a while since you had last slept with someone. The last person being Batman. Whether it was Bruce or not, maybe it was time that you took someone else to your bed.

You went to bring your glass back up to your lips, but instead you gave the half full glass a hard stare. You frowned. You needed something stronger than the champagne they were serving. You discarded the glass on a passing waiter’s tray and made your way for the bar.

As you sipped on your preferred drink, the feeling that someone was watching you washed over you. You ignored it or, at least, you did your best to ignore it. You already knew who was watching you. He had taken notice of you earlier and his interest must had only grown considering you had tried to run.

Following the sounds of disgruntled and disappointed people, you heard footsteps coming up behind you. You kept your eyes focused on your drink. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw him come to lean against the bartop. Bruce ordered himself an old fashioned, which you thought to be rather fitting.

There was a silence between you. The only real noise coming from ice clinking against the side of the glasses. After taking a sip of his drink, he broke that silence first.

“You know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you before, yet I feel like I’ve already met you,” he said. His voice was smooth like honey and you could feel his eyes watching you. 

You scoffed, not bothering to look at him. “I bet you say that to all the girls.”

Were you really doing this? Engaging in banter with a man whom you had already decided wasn’t worth the risk? You must of had more to drink than you originally thought. 

Bruce chuckled. “Only to the most beautiful women.” 

You felt your heart skip a beat and you almost wanted to laugh. Such a damn cheesy line shouldn’t of had your heart fluttering like that. He was too damn good at this. Still, you kept up the mask that he wasn’t having any effects on you. Which included sipping your drink and keeping your eyes focused either on the back of the bar or on your own drink.

“Does that line really work?” you asked.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw him shrug. “More often than not.”

“Right. Of course.”

Your unconvinced tone didn’t deter him. Bruce chuckled again. He was clearly finding this whole back and forth very entertaining. Honestly, you were enjoying it as well.

“I can count all of the people who are openly unimpressed with me on one hand. You’ve not only made it two, but my interest in you has only grown.”

His voice dropped an octave, sending a tingling up your spine. Batman came to the forefront of your mind. The deepness and rough edge of his voice as he growled and how it always left you feeling weak in the knees…

You shoved that thought away. Locking Batman back into his cage, deep within your mind. He had a habit for popping up in your thoughts when you didn’t want him to. 

What Erica had said replayed in your mind. Maybe she was right. Maybe you should try and have some fun. You still had no idea why he seemed so familiar, but maybe that didn’t even matter anymore. After tonight you would never see him again, so why not? 

Fuck it, you decided.

For the second time that night, your eyes met his own. His gaze was intense. Those steely blue eyes taking you in. The intensity of it, once again, reminded you of Batman and the way it felt when he looked you over, even if you couldn’t see his eyes thanks to the white lenses of his cowl. 

You forced those thoughts away again. Doing the best to make sure your irritation was hidden. He wasn’t even here and he was still trying to ruin your evening. 

“As has mine,” you purred.

His eyes visibly darkened and he swallowed thickly. You held his gaze a little longer. Even leaning in for a moment. Which had him leaning in as well. But before your lips could even get close enough to meet, you abruptly pulled away from him to down the rest of your drink. 

After you had set the empty glass down, you pushed away from the bar and left the ballroom behind. Your heels clicked against the well polished flooring. As you rounded a corner, heading further away from the ballroom, you could hear footsteps behind you.

You didn’t get very far. Before you knew it a large hand wrapped around your upper arm, making you turn to face him.

Bruce towered over you, not too unlike a certain someone. There was a silent question in his eyes as they briefly looked at your lips before returning to your eyes. 

“May I?”

You nodded. Your heart was hammering hard and fast against your chest, excitement flowing through your veins as he leaned in.

His lips were incredibly soft as they moved against your own. As he kissed you, soft and slowly, one of his hands came up to cup your face while the other came to rest on your waist. Bruce pushed you up against the wall. His knee parted your legs, pressing up against your core. The action made you gasp, which allowed his tongue to slip into your mouth.

The kiss quickly grew heated. As his tongue explored your mouth, your hands explored his body. You ran your hands down his chest and you untucked his shirt from his pants. Beneath your fingers, as you traced and appreciated his abs, you came across something that made you temporarily freeze. 

The skin between two of his ribs was raised, rough and jagged. Like he had been cut into by a knife or something. Not only was it not the only one, but you recognised each and every scar your fingers came into contact with. After all, you had felt them enough each time he had been on top of you.

Suddenly you weren’t in a dimly lit hallway with one of the richest men on the planet. Instead, you were back on the Watchtower with Batman towering over you as he pushed you up against a wall, impatient fingers pulling at your suit.

The realisation hit you like a ton of bricks. You couldn’t believe it. You didn’t want to believe it.

Bruce Wayne was Batman? It was a ridiculous thought, but it wasn’t like you were able to ignore the evidence in front of you. All night you had been plagued with the idea that something was familiar about the man currently kissing you and now you knew why. 

That was just your luck, wasn’t it? 

It did beg the question of whether or not he was aware of your own identity. Was that why he’d had such an interest in you tonight, despite the fact he had spent a lot of the time letting others drool all over him? Surely not. The conversation you’d had with Batman previously played out in your head. He wished to be on better terms with you. Not besties, but better teammates was good enough. Doing something like this, while knowing who you are, but leaving you in the dark? No, doing something like that would be severely damaging. 

Batman was many things, but he wasn’t stupid. Not when it came to things like this. Which could only mean that he had absolutely no idea. But you did and continuing this wasn’t a good idea.

You broke the kiss and pushed against his chest. He got the signal immediately as he let go of you and stepped away, giving you much needed space.

Bruce was panting hard and your lipstick was smeared on his lips. He was looking you over, concern evident in his eyes. Without the mask he was far more emotive than you had ever seen before.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” 

His concern was actually kind of sweet, but what did you do now? Did you tell him who you were? Or did you bolt, like you really wanted to?

Would he ever tell you if the roles were reversed? Probably not. Knowing the way that Batman was, he would keep it hidden. So, with that thought in your head, you decided on the latter.

Sure, it was the cowardly move, but you could feel your pulse getting faster, your heart thumping harder, and it definitely wasn’t because of the heavy kissing that had just taken place. 

“No, you didn’t,” you replied with a shake of your head. “I just… remembered I have somewhere else to be tonight.” 

It was the stupidest excuse you could come up with, on the spot, and he definitely didn’t look overly convinced, but it wasn’t like you gave him any time to respond. Without another thought, you shot past him and headed for the exit.

You half expected him to come after you. That maybe your behaviour had tipped him off, sending that detective mind of his into overdrive as he put the pieces together. You were thankful that he didn’t. 

Your heart was still hammering against your chest and you honestly felt like you might be on the brink of an anxiety attack. You made your way to the check-in desk to grab your coat and purse and then you were stepping outside. 

The freezing, winter night air that met your skin as you got outside did very little to help soothe you. You only really started to calm down once your driver pulled up and you were in the safety of your car, leaving the venue behind.

“You alright, miss?” he asked, glancing up at you in the mirror. 

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just take me home, please?” 

“Of course, miss.” 

You were thankful that he didn’t ask any more questions, letting the rest of the drive continue in silence. You spent the time focusing on the buildings that passed by the window.

It felt like you had violated his privacy somehow. Like you had walked in on Batman (Bruce?) and seen something you definitely shouldn't have. This whole thing would have felt so much better if you knew that he already knew your identity. Of course, if that had been the case, you doubted that you never would have got close enough to find out, in the first place.

You knew that you likely needed to tell him. You should have told him back there, but panic had driven you first. 

How was he going to feel once you told him that you knew? Hurt? That you didn’t tell him then and there? Betrayed, maybe? You might have felt that if the situation was reversed. Especially after the conversation you had shared with him.

There was also a chance that you were overthinking this whole thing and that he might actually appreciate the honesty. You really wouldn’t know until you found a way to bring it up with him.

“Fuck,” you muttered quietly to yourself. “Why the hell did you have to be the same person?” 

The rest of the drive to your place was silent. Though your mind kept racing at the speed of light. 

You thanked your driver, and made a mental note to give him a rather large bonus this year, before you got out of the car and headed inside. 

Instead of curling up on your couch and watching a cheesy movie, like you had planned, you headed for the bookcase. Your fingers traced over the spines of each one before finally landing on the correct one, which you gently pulled back. The bookcase slid backwards before sliding off to the side, revealing the elevator hidden behind.

You weren’t going to be able to get any sleep tonight, and finding out Batman’s true identity had done wonders in sobering you up, so you might as well go out and see if there was anything around your city that required your attention. While your newest suit remained damaged and unusable, you still had your previous one, which would do well enough for now. After all, you weren’t planning on fighting any supervillains tonight. And you hoped that none decided to cross your path. 

All you needed was one quick patrol to help clear your head and figure out how you were supposed to approach this subject.

Bruce frowned as the woman scurried away from him and disappeared around the corner, the sounds of her heels quickly fading. He had clearly done something wrong that had made her run from him, but he was clueless as to what that actually was. He was an expert at reading body language, not to mention the World’s Greatest Detective, and yet, here he was. Completely stumped.

He shrugged it off and busied himself with making himself look presentable again. The reasoning really didn’t matter. She had become uncomfortable and no longer had any interest in him. Which was fine by him. In truth he had originally been looking for a way out of that ballroom he had felt like he was suffocating in and she had provided the perfect escape. He really didn’t care that he didn’t get to have sex tonight.

There were other things that required his attention tonight and now he was able to slip away without any questions being raised.

As he tucked his shirt back into his pants, he couldn’t help, but wonder if it was his scars that had deterred her. She had been feeling him up quite a bit until her fingers had come in contact with one. Then she had stiffened for a moment before promptly shoving him away. 

It wasn’t the first time his scars had upset a potential lover. Though, both those times, he’d had time to explain them away as having happened during one of his many public “accidents”. No one ever saw his chest fully anymore. At least, not outside of his mask and pointed ears…

Before any certain memories were able to come forth properly, he shifted his focus on getting outside before someone wandered out of the ballroom and spotted him; therefore making it impossible for him to leave.

The valet was quick to get him his car and, as always, Bruce was more than happy to give him a sizeable tip. 

During the drive back to his hotel, against his will, Bruce’s mind kept going over what had occurred tonight. An incessant need to analyse everything like he always did. At this point it wasn’t exactly something that he was capable of switching off.

His approaching her hadn’t been an impulse. Nor had it been entirely down to his need to escape. There was something about her that had screamed familiarity to him. It had plagued him throughout the night. His eyes constantly being drawn back to her. And not just because she kept looking in his direction. 

Bruce hadn’t lied to her. He really felt like he knew her.

He knew that it wasn’t possible. He had never seen or even heard her name before tonight. Yet his gut was telling him that it didn’t matter what his brain thought. He had already met her. That feeling had only grown once he held her in his hands with his lips pressed against hers.

Perhaps it was because she reminded him a little bit of you. He knew that it couldn’t possible be you. Though this was your city, he knew you had a dislike for parties. From the Justice League’s Induction party to their New Year’s party, you had a skill for avoiding them, like the plague. On the off chance that you did show up, you stayed for a max of two hours before leaving, always complaining of a headache afterwards.

So, there was no way it could be you.

If there was one thing he hated the most, it was not knowing something. Especially when his instincts were telling him one thing while his brain said another. It was infuriating, but growing frustrated over it wasn’t going to assist in the real reason he had come all this way from Gotham.

While Bruce Wayne’s night was now coming to a close, Batman’s was about to begin.

*

Taglist - @the-last-twin-of-krypton @bakugous-bakahoe @fromfoolishpeopletodeadpeople @little-rivers @callalily2000 @geminicinderella @theclassicvinyldragon @aniya7 @bluebear19 @mari-malgamor

@jdream55 @x-ratedhimbo @sketchiethebear @wandalfnation @batmanwife1

[odusseus-xvi]

Pomme, the french egg

So I did a post about the french streamers (and their characters) and their mischaracterization I could see from time to time (https://www.tumblr.com/odusseus-xvi/724443078442778624/hello-helloooo-friend-hi-i-just-wanted-to-say) But I realised I didn't talk about Pomme, who has arguably the MOST mischaracterization I can find :

Most of the fandom see her only through English or other languages streams (BBH, Philza and Maximus mostly recently) limiting their views of her in general, but because of that a lot of people don't seem to know what her personnality is like, and most of the time in fanarts or fanfics she just feels like Talullah (which people also mischaracterize) but french, a little sweet girl in a little dress, so I decided to do a little summary of what she is like and some of her traits that you may have missed :

What people do get right is that she is most of the time polite and empathetic, that people get, though they tend to simplify her to only that.

She is very intelligent (learned a bit of create with Aypierre) and likes to both theorize and gossip with Baghera.

One of her parents is ETOILES !! She is a good and competent fighter ; just a few days ago she went and did a Nether Dungeon with Phil and Etoiles while Talullah worked on her garden. Her main weapon is a Moonlight GREATsword, a GREATsword, a BIGASS SWORD. She participated in infiltration missions in Federation Buildings alongside BBH, and Aypierre, in which she saved her father (Aypierre) from being caught and interrogated by Cucurucho

She has developped a deep paranoïa when it comes to the eggs' and her own safety ; between the combination of the attack of the code on her a while back, where she lost ten totems in mere seconds, an attack so strong that the admins went "ok my bad, we went a little far" (Draw her with golden scars !!! The tens of totems that saved her !!!), and the explosion at the Wilbur Party where she lagged just enough that she wasn't tped as fast as the other eggs and saw parts of the explosion. She is now scared of explosions, and always on the lookout (She also shows from time to time that her inventory and hotbar is constantly filled with gold apples and splash regeneration potions.) : During Etoiles' solo fight with the codes, when she saw the first "Dapper is down" message, and that she knew Phil was AFK, she went and pressed the OVO button HERSELF immediatly, and she got there faster than Forever !!

She is a really good writer, her diaries are praised by her parents everytime they read it, and she decided it would what would represent her in BBH's Egg Museum : She built a library where she will put her books for everyone to read. She is also a good and patient builder, with particular attention to interior design : While doing that she has shown a bit of maniacal side : She LOVES symmetry, and is irritated very easily when it doesn't go that route : One time Etoiles was teasing her by putting random blocks in her build and she went "PUT THAT GRASS BLOCK DOWN !!!" and when he continued she just left without saying goodbye.

She doesn't like to lie or steal things, she is honest in that way, BUT she often dodges questions either by saying things like "Don't worry about it :)" or by trying to guilt trip the asker by looking sad or drowning herself. She aslo picked up from Baghera the way she buries herself when mocked or shamed.

She can have a very dry and aware humor coming from Antoine's irony and cynicism and Aypierre's teachings.

Also fun fact, because of timezones, her default state on the server is sleep deprived. She is a sleepy egg.

TL;DR : She is a sweet Badass, and I'll stand by that. I need more fanarts of her with scars, her sword, dark circles under her eyes, and LOOKING LIKE THE GENTLE BADASS SHE IS !

[wosokirby]

Lauren James x Chelsea!reader

“I don’t know what you mean, there’s no flirting going on. It’s just a drink calm down you two”

It wasn’t though.

It was never ‘just’ a drink.

Lauren James x Chelsea! reader

2.7k ish words

Another glass of rosé wine was placed in front of you on the table and you’d have almost missed it appearing if it wasn’t for the grin Erin gave you and the hand squeezing your shoulder.

Looking up above you LJ stood dropping off yet another drink for you almost like your own personal waiter for the evening. She gave you a quick smile before going back to the bar where a few of your team mates were stood.

“God will you two get over this or actually speak to each other” Erin groaned before picking up your new glass and taking a swig.

“Erm excuse me that’s mine thank you”

“You’ve had enough free drinks already!”

“Don’t be jealous you’ve got no friends Erin” you laughed as you took the wine glass out of her hand and setting it back in front of you. “What are you talking about anyway?”

“I don’t think just friends buy drinks all night for each other, and they certainly don’t silently flirt with each other” Erin sighed giving Guro a nudge with her elbow, as she seemed to be pointing out the oblivious, or at least obvious to everyone but you.

“Yes the flirting its so not subtle anymore” Guro agreed with Erin.

“I don’t know what you mean, there’s no flirting going on. It’s just a drink calm down you two”

It wasn’t though.

It was never ‘just’ a drink.

It was four or maybe five drinks tonight… and your dinner that Lauren had paid for before you met up with the rest of the Chelsea team at the busy bar you were now in.

When you think about it LJ did lots of that, a coffee on your pre match walk. A cup of tea was usually waiting for you when you got to training in the morning. A bottle of water after a match or if you were subbed off after her was silently handed to you.

It had all become a habit, so much so that you’d not really noticed it all any more. And when you did you assumed it was just Lauren being nice. Or at least that was what you had convinced yourself it was after you’d lost all hope that the feelings you had for her were reciprocated.

It must have been all in your head that she could feel the same way after you’d not been so subtle with some of the messages you tried to send her way once you realised the feelings were more than just the one you had for your other friends. Lauren was easily your closest person on the team and with the Lionesses. The two of you were always together.

While you spent a lot of that time taking any chance to glance over at Lauren, slightly mesmerised by her in certain moments, particularly on the pitch. Her talent could be seen by anyone with eyes, but not many people saw more than that. LJ is a private person she didn’t tell anyone much, unless you were a close friend, about her love life. Not that she found much time for that anyway. Training, the gym and focussing on all things football were her priorities.

Still she found time for you, afternoons and evenings were often spent at one of your places or in each others hotel rooms. Chatting, extra training, trash tv watching all just seemed to make the time go by far too quickly for your liking. You truly enjoyed every second you spent with Lauren, it was becoming more difficult to put your feelings aside but you knew it was important for your friendship that you didn’t let it slip. Lauren confessing her feelings or just sweeping you up after a goal celebration and kissing you remained just day dreams that kept you up when you were apart.

She didn’t feel the same, she couldn’t. She would have told you by now, you are each others best friend and no secrets were kept from you. So you were content as much as you could be with what you got, a couple of drinks and the occasional present she picked up just because it made her think of you would be enough for you.

But the candles that were beginning to take over your flat, the soft blankets she knew you could never have enough of and the cuddly kangaroo that sat on your bed every day, as a memory from the World Cup were treasured possessions for you. But just presents from one friend to another you thought.

“Leave it, please” It was not the most convincing argument to put forward to the girls who were at the very least bored of your pinning after your team mate.

“No it’s something you can’t ignore now, you need to speak to Lauren or we’ll make you” Erin boldly stated still with a bit of a smirk on her face letting you know it was at least a bit entertaining to wind you up.

“Make me by doing what guys? There’s nothing to say even if I did like Lauren, which I don’t, it’s not like she would be the same. She just sees me as a friend.”

“Oh come on that’s not true and you know that” Erin exclaimed, taking the lead on the pre planned conversation her and Guro were now launching on to you. They had encouraged each other to ask the both of you what was going on, and maybe with you a few drinks down they could push you and Lauren together.

“I’m going to the toilet, back in a min” You say pushing yourself back in your chair and leaving the table before they could say anything otherwise.

After weaving through the crowd you realised just how many drinks you had consumed that night, as you sat down you could feel the room swaying a little.

Still feeling a little lightheaded you wandered back through to the table, and after rounding a corner you bumped into a figure muttering a sorry before realising who it was.

“It’s alright it’s just me” Lauren said. She had caught hold of your arm to catch you before you had the chance to fall and her hand had come up to rest on your waist, resting on the skin in between your crop top and jeans, as she spoke to you.

“Are you ok? I just came to check on you”

“I’m fine I just think I’ve had a bit more to drink than I realised. I might need to sit down” you laughed. It wasn’t like you were falling over drunk but you were feeling the effects of those drinks Lauren had so kindly got you.

“C’mon then” LJ turned to walk back to where you had been sat before and you followed. The bar was pretty dimly lit and crowded, to keep track of you Lauren reached behind and held her hand out for you to hold. She led you through to the table and pulled out your chair, once you were sat she crouched down with her hand still holding yours.

“I’ll get you some water do you want anything else?”

You shook you head and Lauren left you at the table, you weren’t alone for long as Erin and Guro now joined by Sam and Millie took the opportunity to pounce on you.

“Why don’t you just tell your girlfriend you love her?” Sam teased from the other side of the table while the others giggled. It was harmless teasing and you all knew it wasn’t meant to offend you, it just cut a bit close to home this time.

“LJ told me you went on a date with her earlier you know” Millie said, glancing over her shoulder to check that LJ wasn’t within earshot.

“Ooooh” was the collective sound that came from the rest of the group who seemed to have never heard any gossip more exciting than this as they squealed in delight at Millie’s news.

“Alright, I think that’s me done for the night. Stop shit stirring guys” you laughed along with them, moving round the table you hugged each of them and said a quick goodbye promising to catch up again at training on Monday.

“Sorry it took a while” LJ said placing a glass of water into your hand when you met her near the bar. You downed the water appreciating the gesture. “You heading out?” She asked noticing the bag on your shoulder.

“Yeah I’m shattered, and them lot are getting annoying” you pointed behind you at the girls still giggling away.

“I’ll book an Uber now” She said pulling out her phone.

“No it’s alright I’ll book it, you picked me up on the way, on the way to our date…” you trailed off. You weren’t fully sure if Millie had been joking and feeling quite tipsy you maybe were letting the teasing get to you. You looked at Lauren whose attention had now been turned away from her phone. “Let’s just go it’s loud in here”

LJ took your hand and like she had earlier led you through the bar and outside, she still had her phone in her hand ready to book an Uber to collect you both before you could argue with her.

“You really should let me pay for something at some point you know Lauren” you sighed with a smile as the two of you stepped outside. “Never” LJ smirked holding the door open for you.

“I’d feel much better if you just let me take you home”

“Only if you come back with me then, I get lonely without you”. You said leaving against her, resting your head on her should for a brief moment.

LJ nodded and confirmed she’d booked just one cab to go to your address already, like she already knew what you’d ask her to do. You weren’t waiting for too long it wasn’t a weekend or too late so you were thankful when the car pulled up and LJ spoke to the driver before opening the rear door for you. You climbed in the car shuffling through as far as the middle seat so LJ could slide in next to you without walking round the car.

The window was cracked down slightly letting in a breeze that seemed to help you sober up but the tiredness was setting in. A hand rested on your leg giving your thigh a squeeze, when you turned to look at LJ she was already looking right at you. You weren’t sure if it was the eye contact or the the close proximity that made your stomach do little flips. She had this effect on you a lot more than you’d want to admit. You moved your hand to rest on top of hers giving it a reassuring nudge as she moved it slightly further up and into your inner thigh.

‘Fuck’ you thought, was this really happening? Suddenly you were no longer feeling so tired. You gave a small smile to Lauren that she returned, her eyes glancing down to your lips and back up. The car slowed down as it rounded a corner and you glanced away and out of the front window of the car to see that you were just round the corner from your flat. Once you had thanked the driver you followed LJ out of the car and took her hand as she watched you get out of the car.

Fumbling through your bag for your keys you walked towards the main door for your flat, once you had found them and opened the door you looked behind you to LJ who stood close by. This time as you lead her inside and up the couple of flights of stairs you took the lead and reached for her hand first, you didn’t need her to take you through a crowd just simply to be there. Opening up your door walking through to your lounge you let Lauren shut and lock the door as she quickly follows you.

Flopping down into the corner seat of your sofa you kicked off your shoes and relaxed into the seat, glad to be back home. “Comfy?” LJ said as you sat almost laying down, you could feel her sit next to you getting close once again. “Very, I could fall asleep now” you murmured your eyes closed.

“We should go to bed then”

“Give me a min”

Sitting in what was comfortable single for a few moments grew to another tension filled moment just like there had been in the taxi. When you slowly opened your eyes LJ was looking down at her hands, you gave in to what felt right and moved forward to slip your hand into hers. She moved one of her hands to link with yours and cupped your hand with both of hers still looking down at them.

It was such a comfort you, the soft touch of her hand against yours. It wasn’t just a joke what the girls had said at the bar, it was a date and it really could be that Lauren liked you back. You could feel all of that being expressed just by the physical contact you shared. You had to take that leap and say it. Lauren was the more shy of the two of you so really if you didn’t say it now you weren’t sure she’d be ready to take to leap first.

“Will you kiss me, please?” You spoke softly, almost afraid that if you spoke to loudly, to harshly it would scare her away or disrupt the moment. For no longer than a few seconds, yet it felt like an age, your team mate and best friend sat there not moving away but also not moving to fulfil your ask. It wasn’t often LJ didn’t do want you asked her to, she went out of her way to do a lot for you, to make you happy and smile. But you couldn’t doubt that it was what she wanted too.

Especially not when she turned her head to you, her hands leaving yours as she budged closer to you to sit almost in between your legs leaving some small distance between you and her. You leant forward meeting her in the small gap and she looked straight at you, taking the sight of you in before leaning in her eyes closing and her lips connecting with yours as you did the same.

It was a soft kiss, gentle as her lips moved against yours. It wasn’t just a peck on the lips, you were grateful she put some real effort into the kiss. You sighed quietly into the kiss as Lauren moved you towards her with her hands coming to rest against you, sitting on your hips. She gently pushed you down against the sofa as she leaned over you, while not disconnecting your lips once. One of the arms came to rest above your head holding her up, she moved back to allow you both to breathe for a second.

A quick kiss pressed against her lips as a small giggle passed from your lips as she smiled, that smile you loved to see, a smile you felt so lucky to see more than anyone else got to.

“I’m not sure if I expected that to happen tonight or not” Lauren admitted “I’ve wanted to do that for a long time”.

“Have you really?” You asked tentatively almost still afraid that if you spoke to loudly it would all disappear.

“For so long, I’ve had to stop myself from doing it almost every time we’ve been together lately” She confessed.

“Looks like we’ve got plenty of lost time to make up” You said and pulled her back down for another long kiss.

..

..

..

..

..

..

Hi, this is the first time I’ve ever really written anything like this but I thought I’d give it a go finally after thinking about it for a long time 😂

hope you enjoyed!

[mylifesjustacarousel]

the sorcerer and the apprentice - foes to friends

pairing: james hook x gn!reader (requested)

summary: you hated no one more than james hook, but after an incident, you start to see him differently

type: angst, the tiniest hint of fluff at the end

CW: bullying

WC: 1.2k

prequel | part 2 | part 3 (requests are open!)

For as long as you could remember, you hated James Hook. From the second he showed his face on the Merlin Academy campus, being as snarky and bratty as ever, you despised him. Being the child of Merlin himself didn’t make it any easier either. The torment and teasing was nonstop, from him and the rest of the VKs.

But ever since you pulled that prank on Uliana a few weeks ago, you had seen very little of the VKs, Hook included. You weren’t too worried though. If you could take them once, you could take them again.

You were in the woods right outside of campus, your sword in hand. It was peaceful there at night, a great time and place to practice your technique. You were stood in front of a tree, swinging at it left and right, pretending to dodge attacks. It wasn’t as good as practicing with a partner, but practicing alone helped to clear your mind.

“Aren’t you missing something, darling? Like another person?” A voice called out. You froze in your place, turning your head to follow the direction of the voice.

Hook.

“Go away,” you spat, “Even if I did want another person here, or anywhere else, it certainly wouldn’t be you.” He snorted, “I told you, you can’t get rid of me that easily. You can’t just say a spell and make me go away.”

Before you even knew it, your feet were moving before your mind, your arms drawing up and swinging your sword at Hook. While your technique was a little off, he seemed to quickly get the message. His eyes widened, his body barely dodging the blade. “If you needed the practice, you could’ve just said so,” he winked, drawing his sword from his belt.

You grimaced, swinging at him again, “You make me sick, Hook.” He advanced forward, unknowingly backing you up against a tree. You panicked, trying to quickly think of something to get you out of this situation. He had you cornered. He held the blade of his sword to your chin, “You don’t even know me, darling.” you could feel every breath that he took with how close his chest was to yours. “So you can hate me, but remember who saved you when Uliana wanted to destroy you.”

He pulled his sword away, putting it back in its sheath before walking away from you. You stood there in disbelief as you watched him.

What just happened? you thought.

You walked towards the water, trying to calm yourself down. Leaning against a nearby tree, you took a deep breath. Peace at last…

“You!”

Whipping your head around, you were met with a sight that you did not want to see. The VKs were standing there, minus Hook. Uliana charged towards you, “You think you can humiliate me and get away with it? I’ll show you what happens to people who mess with me!”

Without missing a beat, you turned to try to run, only to run into the chests of Hades and Morgie. They had you cornered. One of Uliana’s tentacles shot out, wrapping around your ankle and lifting you up into the air. You panicked, yelling for help. But the woods were too far away for anyone on campus to actually be able to hear you. She laughed maniacally, dangling you over the water as you struggled.

“The little goody two shoes thought that they were going to get spared? Just because Hook let you go, doesn’t mean that I’m going to.”

You looked to the other three for help, hoping that any of them would show any signs of remorse. But they were all laughing, enjoying the fear on your face. “It’s a shame I had to get rid of Hook. He thought I should leave you alone, but I knew that nothing would fill me with more joy than doing this.”

Within seconds, you could feel nothing but coldness surrounding you. She had dropped you into the water below you. “I hope you can swim!” she called out, the VKs laughing and cheering her on as they left.

You panicked, flapping your arms as you tried to make your way back to land. The water stirred, a figure appearing in the water beside you. It could only be described as a giant eel. It’s snake like eyes locked on you, ready to pounce the moment it saw you. Squeezing your eyes shut, you tried to remember a spell to get you out of this. But your mind drew a blank. There was nothing you could do to save yourself.

You heard the eel pounce, but you didn’t expect what came after. The sound of a sword being drawn, a loud scream, and the sound of the water becoming still. You slowly opened your eyes, looking for your hero.

Hook. Hook was standing there.

He threw his sword onto the ground, reaching his hand to help you out. You didn’t think twice before grabbing his hand, pulling yourself out of the water. Shivering, you pulled your soaking wet jacket tighter around your frame, trying to generate any sort of warm.

“Easy, easy,” Hook pulled his jacket off, draping it over your shoulders, “You’re lucky I was still around, you were almost fish food, darling.”

You glared at him, but you accepted his jacket. “Why’d you do that? Help me?” you mumbled, your eyes meeting his. For the first time ever, you saw sincereness in his eyes. It was strange and different. It’s like something in your brain just clicked.

“Like I said, you don’t know me,” he shrugged, “But, there’s something about you. You’re… different. A good different. You weren’t actually a goody two shoes, you’re actually pretty cool.” Hook rambled on, a light blush on his cheeks.

“Well… thank you,” you nodded. He gave you a nod back, standing up, “Just, uh, return the jacket whenever.”

“Aren’t you going to walk me back?” you asked, standing with him. His eyes widened, the blush on his face becoming a cherry red.

“I guess that would be the appropriate thing to do, yes.”

Hook walked you all the way back to your dorm room, his eyes on you the entire walk. You were silent the entire time, still trying to process what had happened. Hook helped you. You didn’t think it could ever happen, but you saw a change in him, and you were interested in taking a deeper dive… you couldn’t even believe that you were thinking these things. After all, you hated James Hook. Or at least you did.

“Well, this is me,” you slipped his jacket off, trying to hand it back to him. He refused, draping it over your shoulders again, “You still look cold, darling. I’ll get it back eventually. But, um, have a good night.” He patted your shoulder before turning to walk away.

He took a few steps before you called out to him. “Hey, James? You can come pick up your jacket tomorrow… and stay for a little bit, if you’d like?”

Hook couldn’t help but smile a bit. He turned to you, “Sounds like a plan, y/n. Don’t get into any more trouble between now and then, alright? I can only save you so many times.”

You rolled your eyes, a grin making way onto your face, “Goodnight, James.”

“Goodnight, darling.”

a/n: i truly didn’t think i would get so many requests for this series, or enough for this to even turn into a series. also, if there’s any confusion timeline wise, this takes place a few months before the original the sorcerer and the apprentice. if you have any requests at all, my ask box is open!

[aestherin]

privacy

34: one mistake

When did it all start?

Ah, it was when he first heard your singing voice during eleventh grade.

It was the during the time of the day when most students would flock to the cafeteria, rushing to eat their fill after half a day's worth of academic torture. Even before then, he already disliked crowded and hectic places. And so, he went the opposite direction of everyone.

Turns out he wasn't the only one with that idea.

The sweet and enchanting voice of a nightingale was what welcomed him the moment he arrived at the school's courtyard. Not rushing to eat lunch just to hear this was worth it, he concluded.

He didn't even know your name at the time, for you two were not in the same class. And when you turned around — good lord.

Your face was beautiful, but it wasn't familiar at all. It was odd, how this was the first time he saw you. He thought for sure that with an appearance like that, if he had ever met you prior, he wouldn't be able to forget you.

Was the school really that big for you two to miss each other every single time?

"Oh. A person. Uhm, hi?"

Fuck. Even your speaking voice was attractive.

Kunikuzushi was damned.

And he has been, for many years. Even up until now.

The present him looked up at nowhere, quietly laughing at himself.

How pathetic.

'You've liked her since you were still students, and you still haven't got the guts to even confess.'

'You're both famous people now, hundreds of thousands of people — maybe even millions — wanting the two of you... yet you're still stuck simply being her friend.'

Boy best friend, he argued with himself. But Scaramouche himself also did not know if that was better or worse.

"I have arrived," he heard a smooth voice. Kunikuzushi instictively frowned. This? This was the voice of the man you fell for?

He almost rolled his eyes. He could do better than this guy in front of him. He bets Ayato couldn't even sing.

"Sit."

Ayato looked around the area but found no chairs. "Where?" All he could see was cemented grounds, ramps, and curves. Why did they have to meet at a deserted skateboarding area anyway?

Scaramouche smirked. "Ah, sorry. I forgot you're a rich boy. We can't have you sitting on the dirty floor now, could we?"

It was as if a tick mark appeared on the taller man's head. Feigning a smile, he breathed, "Did you ask to meet me just to insult me, bastard?"

"Wow. Was it that obvious?"

"No, not really."

"I'm just getting back at you."

"Pardon? I don't even know you, aside from you being a celebrity. This is the first time we've met and suddenly you say you're getting back at me?"

"Shut the fuck up. You insulted me first."

"Hah?"

"You getting together with [Name] so easily was the biggest insult I've ever received in my entire existence."

Oh.

Now, Ayato was no idiot. Of course, he immediately realized the underlying message of Scaramouche's statement. Was that why this man called for him? Did he receive news of their so-called 'break-up' and was now planning to tell him that he's going to pursue you now that you're not in a relationship anymore?

Ayato's eyes followed Scaramouche as he stood up from the metal rail he was previously sitting on. Meanwhile, the shorter one looked and turned away, seemingly looking at a distance.

"I knew it was all fake, by the way," he started. "She accidentally tweeted about it on her private account, and I got to see it before she deleted it."

"Since when?"

"That was even before your drama was released."

"That was a long time ago. You knew yet did nothing?"

Ayato was confused. If Scara had feelings for you, why didn't he act on it even after he found out that the thing you had for him was all a fraud? It was not something that he could comprehend.

Not with his way of thinking.

Kunikuzushi, on the other hand, begged to differ. He believed himself to have done the right thing.

He has already kept his affection for you to himself for several years, surely a few weeks, months more wouldn't be that big of a deal, right?

And so he stayed. Stayed observing, kept contemplating — remained being just a friend.

"Of course, the thought of having her for myself crossed my mind at that moment..." He smiled fondly. "...but I still didn't go with it."

He suddenly turned around, not giving Ayato the opportunity to retort.

"Because despite the fact that it wasn't real —"

Scaramouche sighed.

"— even the archons know how in love she was with you."

That left him speechless. For a seemingly inconsiderate and rough guy to say those words...

How can he remain calm? Another person who has romantic feelings for you just told him about your sincerest sentiments for him.

"Why are you —"

Ayato cut himself off with a forced gag.

"What the fuck?" He glared at the man who just punched his gut. He unconsciously hovered his arm over the pained area; though it wasn't too powerful, the sheer unexpectedness of the punch was enough to make it sting.

"Just because she loves you doesn't mean you get a pass. My anger won't vanish quickly, airhead."

Airhead?

Did... did he just insult me?

Me?

Yours truly?

This made Ayato raise a brow. "Oh?"

"Why not punch me in the face then? Scared?" Ayato challenged with a devious grin.

A sarcastic laugh was not what he was expecting in return.

"Are you dumb? With my strength, I am more than capable of landing a punch on your face that would take more than weeks to recover," Scaramouche smirked. "What if [Name] sees it? And her, being the angelic being she is, would ask you about it. Then you, being the conniving blabbermouth that you are, would tell her my name."

The fuck?

"She would be mad at me. That's the least thing I'd ever want."

"So that's why you punched me in an area that isn't visible."

"Precisely."

Ayato made a face. After a while, he attempted to get back at the other man with a punch too, but failed miserably. "Oh? Why are you hitting me back?"

"What kind of question even is that?"

"I thought you knew you deserved that punch in the gut," Kunikuzushi stated in a matter-of-fact tone, both hands inside his pockets. To Ayato, it seemed like the man in front of him was bigger than him at the moment. He was sneering down at him.

"You hurt her. So I punched you."

Yeah, I really did.

Backing down and lacking argument, he opted to just sit down on one of the skateboarding ramps. "Remind me why we had to meet here out of all places again?"

"This place..." Scaramouche followed his actions, sitting on the ramp opposite of him. "This place is special to me and [Name]. I used to skateboard often when I was still a student."

"She would always come to me with drinks and snacks in hand. Then, unofficially, this became our weekend hangout spot."

"So, you've liked her since... you were students?"

Kunikuzushi hummed.

"How come you've never told her in that whole time?"

"I'm a coward," he chuckled. "I didn't want to lose what we have. I was afraid that we would stray apart from each other once I do."

Ayato could do nothing but smile sympathetically. "I bet you wrote songs about her."

"Albums," Scaramouche corrected him.

"Damn."

"Yeah. Damn." Ayato felt the return of an intense glare. "I wrote entire albums for her then you had the audacity to hurt [Name] enough for her to end your relationship despite being deeply enamored with you? Wow. Tsk, tsk. Talk about a big jerk."

"I'm aware," he sighed. "Now, can you stop with that? Unless you really only called me out here to make me realize how much I messed up — which let's be honest I really did, and I honestly deserve every single shit you throw at me, but —"

"Glad to know that you know."

Ayato frowned.

He sensed a shift in Scaramouche's mood. He assumed the other was getting serious now. "I called you here because I want you to fix this mess... and to ask you a favor —"

"— I'm leaving [Name] in your care."

"..."

"However," The man pointed at him. "One mistake, Kamisato. One mistake and I'll make sure she'd want to spend her lifetime with me instead."

privacy — ayato x reader smau

prev. masterlist. next.

NOTES -> that was long im sorry ahfbdhd -> also scara pls be mine instead🥹🙏

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[starcurtain]

Some Speculation on Kaveh’s Father

I actually started this post right after the Parade of Providence event last year, but never got around to finishing it. However, in light of Kaveh still not appearing on a banner, I decided to dust this one off and get it finished, so that I’d have at least a little Kaveh content in my life after being so cruelly denied by Hoyo.

So, without further ado, some stuff about Kaveh’s father I did not see discussed elsewhere but which I think is especially interesting.

1) Kaveh’s father likely first became depressed/disillusioned with humanity after witnessing (or possibly being the victim of) a murder attempt.

Without knowing the full situation and reading all the additional text from the Parade of Providence event, I feel like this might have been easily missed, but the entire “Kaveh’s dad became disillusioned and depressed and retreated to the desert to help people” seems--at first--like it came out of nowhere. He had a lovely family, was the pride of his darshan, and was eager and excited to win the crown to bring it home to his son. Yet theoretically, he did not win the crown (and, in fact, the crown was stolen before the last event and may not have been there during the Avidya Forest fight, so when, as the non-winner, would Kaveh’s father have come into contact with it to encounter Sachin through it in the first place?) Why would Kaveh’s father’s personality take such a massive turn all the sudden? What would drive an excited, happy person to suddenly withdraw from everything he loved and everyone who loved him, if he didn’t actually win the diadem to be influenced by it in the first place?

The event implies there was a trigger:

Huvishka’s friend (who is described as “honest and kind but vulnerable and sensitive”--obviously Kaveh’s father) went into the Avidya Forest with the other contestants, where no one was watching, and we’re not told what happened except that the Akademiya responded to whatever occurred by shutting down the entire competition and banning any sort of events in the future that cause contestants to become so desperate they would “fight to the death.” 

This is a pretty obvious implication that Kaveh’s father either witnessed two other contestants attempt to kill each other or was the victim of an attempted murder himself, which prevented him from winning the competition even though he was the favorite to win by a long-shot. This feat of betrayal, demonstrating the depths to which humanity would sink, likely shook the idealistic world views of a sensitive person such as Kaveh’s father. This brush with death and with humanity’s capacity for evil in the forest would have been the exact trigger needed to make Kaveh’s father particularly vulnerable to Sachin’s message of nihility and despair, leading to the downward spiral that sent Kaveh’s father into the desert.

- 

2) Sachin may have way more culpability for Kaveh’s father’s death than Kaveh realizes. 

For a while after the event, I was under the impression that Kaveh’s father must have met Sachin’s consciousness through the diadem and that’s where he got the idea to go into the desert. However, something was always a bit odd about the timeline, because...

Sachin was still alive when he gave the Akademiya his estate. This is why no one actually knew/believed he was fully dead, even to the present--because he willed the Akademiya the estate while he was alive and told them he was going to be personally watching over the contestants to award his estate to them if he deemed them worthy successors to himself. 

So did Kaveh’s father run into a fragment of Sachin’s consciousness... or did he run into Sachin himself? The game doesn’t really clarify:

The fact that Sachin’s recording recognized Kaveh’s appearance as familiar makes me think it is much more likely that the consciousness preserved in the diadem already had knowledge of Kaveh’s father at the time it was preserved. Aka, Sachin actually met Kaveh’s father in person. This also makes sense of why, even though the diadem was stolen away during the last event and Kaveh’s father did not win it, he would still know about Sachin and Sachin’s research. (However, as a counterpoint, I guess we could say that the Diadem!Sachin had enough sentience to maybe have its own memory, separate from the real Sachin? And reached out to Kaveh’s father mentally even though he didn’t win the diadem? Maybe?)

Still, there’s one really notable aspect of the timeline that I think is important: Right after the Interdarshan Competition twenty years ago, the one which Kaveh’s father competed in, we know that Sachin went back out to the desert. 

Who else went out to the desert exactly 20 years ago? Kaveh’s father, obviously.

This overlap in the timelines makes it seem very likely that Kaveh’s father, who failed to win the competition because of a murder attempt (and therefore never got the diadem), was nevertheless reached out to by the real Sachin, who saw in Kaveh’s father the kindred disillusioned idealist he was looking for to pass his research torch onto. From this connection, Kaveh’s father was driven to either directly accompany or at least pursue the still living Sachin into the desert. (This works even if we say it was only Sachin’s consciousness he was contacted by--in either case, he would have been driven go to out to the desert to meet the real, temporarily still living Sachin to join his quest to help the desert people.)

Only for Kaveh’s father to meet his end there while trying to aid a caravan that had fallen into trouble. What a tragic coincidence, a completely unpredictable twist of fate.

Or... was it?

How odd, in the same quest that Kaveh’s father’s connection to Sachin is discussed, that we’re given an account of a caravan that appears to have been deliberately sabotaged, where money was taken (from Sachin) and somehow sparked a betrayal, a “trial of human nature” that caused many people to die, with the takeaway being the exact belief Sachin wants to pass on and reinforce in others, that humans are horrific creatures who can only make the world a worse and worse place. 

We know that Sachin’s “research” specifically consisted of doing this exact thing, manipulating situations to test humans’ moral character, conducting trials/experiments on “human nature” to reinforce his belief that humans were fundamentally selfish beings.

(It’s no accident the merchant ledger we receive uses the exact same words as Sachin does, “trial of human nature” and “experiments on human nature.” We’re supposed to assume what happened to the caravan in the note was deliberate sabotage on Sachin’s part, to create a scenario where he could observe the cruelties of humanity.)

Why would the game go out of its way to give us an account of a caravan being deliberately sabotaged and used as an experiment if there was no connection at all between what happened with this caravan and what happened to Kaveh’s father, who was also killed helping a floundering caravan?

It’s just too much of a coincidence to accidental. I think the implications of the ledger Dori gave us and the similarities in the language on that ledger to Sachin’s ideas was supposed to lead the audience to wonder:

Could Kaveh’s father have died in one of Sachin’s final “human nature experiments”? 

Was the caravan Kaveh’s father tried to help one that Sachin deliberately sabotaged, expecting to observe humanity’s selfish, self-preserving nature?

I think there’s enough evidence in the story to suggest that we players are at least supposed to consider this a possibility. (There’s no reason to give us the ledger about the manipulated caravan otherwise.) And if you consider this a possibility, it would mean that Sachin didn’t just indirectly cause Kaveh’s father’s death--he would be the direct cause of Kaveh’s father’s death, an actual murder brought about by Sachin’s beliefs that humanity’s self-centered nature made everyone beyond saving.

This idea transforms Kaveh’s father’s sacrifice into the ultimate rejection of Sachin’s beliefs. This would mean that, even in a situation manipulated to bring out the worst in human beings on purpose, Kaveh’s father gave everything to protect the lives of others, for no gain at all of his own, doing everything he could just to desperately try to make the situation (the world) better.

SO yeah. I’m not saying we have hard evidence here, but I think the quest was trying to lead players to speculate very, very hard on the possibility that Kaveh’s father’s death was no accident.

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3) Finally, a cuter piece of speculation to brighten things up after that despair bomb I just dropped: it’s highly likely that Kaveh’s father had more than one Aranara buddy!

During the Parade of Providence, we hear about an Aranara who learned to read from Kaveh’s father:

However, this is a bit confusing, because later in the event, we hear someone else say that Kaveh’s father taught an Aranara to write specifically when he was a child:

While of course it is possible that Kaveh’s father taught the first Aranara, Arakasyapa, to both read and write, I think there’s also another possible answer here about why Kaveh’s father would separately mention teaching an Aranara to write:

Because there is an entirely different Aranara in the story which was taught to write by a “good Nara” who was a child--Arashakun, from the quest “Courage is the Heart.”

In this sweet little world quest, the Traveler discovers a flower talisman that has been snatched by some hilichurls, and seeks to return it to its rightful owner, a timid and shy Aranara named Arashakun. 

We learn that Arashakun once had a kind-hearted “good Nara” companion who taught him to write (sound familiar?), and who, in order to encourage the poor Aranara, gave him a single flower dubbed “courage.” In describing this child companion, Arashakun specifically states that his companion was no strong warrior like the Traveler’s twin, but instead a gentle, comforting presence who never teased the Aranara.

All of these descriptions line up particularly well with Kaveh’s father, who the game repeatedly describes as vulnerable, kind-hearted, and giving to others.

To drive home the possible connections to Kaveh’s family even further, this quest takes place very, very near to the Palace of Alkazarzaray. 

Although we don’t have any guarantee, I think it is strongly implied that the “good Nara” mentioned by Arashakun is indeed Kaveh’s father, and the “courage of the heart” that he extended to Arashakun as a child is the very same courage, kindness, and generosity that drove him to reach out to the people of the desert, hoping to make a difference in their lives--even at the cost of his own.

The takeaway? Kaveh’s father was a truly good person who aided everyone he came across, from timid Aranara to people whose very lives were in danger. He never meant to leave his family, and especially not his son, but repeatedly fell afoul of the worst humanity had to offer and was driven into a situation in which all he could do was offer his very life to uphold the altruism that was central to his idealism--the same idealism and goodness that Kaveh carries as “courage” in his own heart.