#what do you mean plan something and complete it

[rafescvntyclubgf]

𝓕𝓮𝓫𝓻𝓾𝓻𝓪𝓯𝓮𝔂

🇱​​🇴​​🇸​​🇹​ ​🇹​​🇮​​🇲​​🇪​

𝙻𝚘𝚘𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝙸𝚗𝚜��𝚒𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚢 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙾𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚉𝚘𝚎𝚢

𝐑𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

+18 𝓜𝓲𝓷𝓸𝓻 𝓓𝓝𝓘

𝙰𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚗 𝚊𝚌𝚌𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚟𝚎𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚗𝚘 𝚖𝚎𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚢 𝚘𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚑𝚒𝚙, 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚝𝚛𝚞𝚐𝚐𝚕𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚘𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎. 𝙴𝚟𝚎𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑 𝚢𝚘𝚞’𝚟𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚐𝚘𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚙𝚊𝚜𝚝, 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚗𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗. 𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚒𝚜𝚗’𝚝 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚘 𝚛𝚎𝚖𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛 𝚎𝚒𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛; 𝚑𝚎’𝚜 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚢 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚏𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚒𝚗 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚊𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗.

cw | smut, swearing, pet names, unprotected p in v, fingering, cum tasting, oral (female receiving), heavy angst, reader gets hit by a car

𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙

You adjust the weight of your shopping bags, looping them higher up on your arm as you step out of the bookstore. The crisp February air nips at your cheeks, but the warmth of the two coffee cups in your hands makes it bearable. You balance your phone between your shoulder and ear, voice light with amusement.

“I still don’t get why you made me leave the bookstore,” you sigh.

Rafe chuckles on the other end of the line, the sound deep and familiar. “Because we got plans, princess—you’d still be in there if I let you.”

You roll your eyes as a smile slips across your lips. “Not true. I would’ve left eventually. Maybe.”

“Mhmm… Yeah, sure.”

You stroll carefully on the busy street, walking with the flow of traffic, getting in their last-minute Valentine’s Day shopping. “You almost done with your errand, baby?” You ask, shifting your bags again.

“Mhmm… Walkin’ toward you, sweetheart.”

“I got you your favorite,” you smile as you lift his coffee slightly, watching as he smiles. 

“My girl. Thank you—” You barely register the car driving through the alley before the force slams into your side. The world tilts violently as your feet lift off the ground, coffee cups slipping from her grasp. You hit the pavement hard, pain jolting through your body. Your phone skids across the sidewalk, Rafe’s voice cuts off,  and everything goes dark. 

Your eyes flutter open, a steady ring sounding in your ears. People gather around you, rushing to see if you're okay and what’s happened. 

“Oh my God—Oh my God, baby?” You blink up at a man crouching beside you, his face pale, hands trembling as his breathing comes out fast and uneven. You groan, wincing as you push yourself up onto your elbows, feeling your pulse bang in your head. 

“I—I didn’t see her, man,” the guy panics, running a hand through his hair. “I swear, she-she-she fucking came outta nowhere—”

“Blame her again, and I’ll fuckin’ kill you,” the man beside you snarls.

“I’m fine,” you whisper, his eyes returning to yours. 

“Are you sure?” He asks anxiously, as his big hands hover over your body like he’s scared you’ll break. “Keep your eyes on me, alright?” The man asks gently as he strokes your cheek. His blue eyes are wide with panic, his strong jaw tight, like he’s barely holding himself together.

“Who are you?”

His blood drains from his face completely as the words push through your quivering lips, stabbing him in the heart. His lips parted, but for a moment, no words came out. 

“Baby, it’s me. It’s Rafe—” He whispers weakly.

Rafe? He looks down at you perplexed–a look in his worried eyes telling you his name should mean something to you. His voice is reassuring, like he’s hoping it’ll bring you a wave of clarity, but it doesn’t… It’s just a name.

“What’s happening?” You ask as you try your best to hold back tears. 

“Hey, hey, easy,” he says quickly, his hand cupping your cheek, brushing away a stray tear with his thumb. “Just stay still, okay? The ambulance is coming.”

Your pulse thunders in your ears as you look at him—really look at him. His face twists in worry, his brows drawn together like this moment is doing nothing short of tearing him apart. But you don’t know him or how you got here…

You squeeze your eyes shut, panic creeping up in your throat, making it difficult to breathe. “I don’t understand.”

Rafe swallows hard, his grip slightly tightening. “It’s okay,” he says, though his voice wavers, trying to assure you both in one breath. “You—You… Uh,” he struggles before clearing his throat. “You hit your head on the ground. You just need a second, okay?” You weren't sure a second would matter because looking at him—this man who was holding onto you like you were his entire world—you felt nothing but empathy for a stranger. “You know me, sweetheart.” 

“I don’t.”

Rafe looks away, trying to collect himself as tears pool in his eyes. “Where the hell is the ambulance, huh?” He screams, his voice breaking with sadness as he looks around. “What's taking them so long?” 

Rafe’s never known fear like this… Everything that he knew to be true was gone in a moment. Your words shattered something inside him, but he refused to let go.

Rafe cups your face in his hand again, tracing his thumb over the soft skin of your cheek, trying to ground you both. “It’s okay,” he whispers, his voice thick with emotion. “We’re okay. You’re just hurt. You hit your head—it’s just the concussion talking. You know me. You… You know me, sweetheart,” he smiles as his lips tremble.

He needed you to remember–needed you to feel what you had always felt when you looked at him. He needed the woman you were just a few short moments before, so he did the only thing he could think of doing. 

He kissed you. 

Rafe’s lips press against yours–soft and gentle—a silent plea for you to remember. But then he felt it: the slight hesitation, the way you tensed up, just barely, but it was enough.

He pulled back, praying he was wrong, hoping to see a sliver of clarity in your eyes, but all he saw was confusion. Rafe’s stomach twists, his hand drifting off your cheek, resting lightly on your hand instead, suddenly feeling like it didn’t belong there either.

Sirens wail in the distance as Rafe weaves his fingers in yours, holding you tight. 

“You’re gonna be okay, baby,” he assures. His eyes stay locked on yours as they lift you into the ambulance. “I’m right behind you, okay?” The paramedics close the doors before he can say anything else–the emergency vehicle streaming down the road toward the hospital. 

Rafe doesn’t waste a second, turning and running toward his car, fighting through people on the street as he digs into his pocket for his keys. He lifts them to the ignition–his whole body trembling as he turns the car over, speeding in the direction you went. 

He reaches for the speaker, turning down the volume, trying his best to hold in his emotions as the song you were singing on the car ride there pours out the speakers.

His chest tightens, and his gaze locks ahead as his nose fills with the sweet smell of your favorite flowers, the large bouquet resting in the passenger’s seat. 

This was supposed to be a perfect night.

Now, he’s speeding through the city, his pulse hammering, trying to convince himself that everything wasn’t falling apart. That he’d get to the hospital and everything would be fine–that that moment you needed would have come and passed.

That he would have his girl back. 

He replays the kiss in his mind, over and over again, refusing to blink as he stares at the road ahead, knowing that if his eyes beat shut, the tears glimmering inside will give way. 

The hospital comes into view, and the second he pulls into the parking lot, he’s out of his car, feet pounding against the asphalt as he sprints toward the entrance. The waiting room is packed; the hallways are bright and sterile. 

“Ma’am,” he yells as he spots a nurse. “Y/N?” He asks with urgency. 

“She’s in room 214 just down the hall,” she gestures down the way with a nod. “Follow me–”

Rafe runs past her, stumbling into the room and reaching for a full breath.

He bites his cheek as he sees you already lying in the hospital bed, tucked into a crisp white sheet. The lights are drawn low; your beautiful eyes shut.

Rafe looks down at you, seeing the little bruise blooming on your cheek with a slight gash beneath it.

His eyes flick to the sink in the corner of the room. Rafe saunters over, turning on the faucet, dampening a towel before stepping to your side. He presses it against your cheek; featherlight touches as he cleans it away.

“I got you, baby,” he whispers, his voice barely audible and laced with tears. “You’re okay. You’re gonna be fine.”

Your lashes flutter open, making Rafe freeze, his beautiful eyes set on yours. You were scared, but nothing even close to how you were the first time you woke up. And even though you didn’t remember Rafe before this, you felt him.

Rafe pushes out a shaky breath as he looks down at you, brushing your hair off your face. “Hey,” he whispers. 

You look at him, your lips parting, wanting desperately to say something, but nothing comes out. 

Rafe gives you a soft, weak smile as he takes your hand again, brushing his thumb over the top. “You don’t have to talk. Just rest, okay? I’m not leavin’. I’ll be right here, okay?” 

The room settles into a quiet rhythm—just the soft beeping of the monitors and the distant hum of hospital sounds filtering through the walls. Rafe hasn’t moved from your side.

The doctor pushes away the curtain before stepping inside, giving you both a reassuring smile. He flips through your chart, skimming your health history again. “How are you feeling?”

You exhale slowly as you look up at the doctor from your bed. “Okay. Just a little foggy; a little sore,” your voice breaks under pressure.

“You took a pretty rough hit, but your x-rays came back clear. No fractures, just bumps and bruises. That foggy feeling is coming from concussion–a mild traumatic brain injury or TBI.” 

Rafe’s grip on your hands instinctively tightens. “Umm…” He asks uneasily before clearing his throat. “Is that why she can’t remember anything–”

“Yes, we’re looking at PTA or post-traumatic amnesia. Everyone handles it differently–”

“Differently?” Rafe asks. “How-How so?” 

“For some patients, PTA lasts minutes—for some, months. Some things could come back in flashes, others over time. But given the nature of the injury, I’d say she has a very good chance of regaining everything.”

“You hear that, baby?” He looks down at you, his voice shattered but a little more hopeful than before. You smile and nod before looking back to the doctor. 

“You just have to be patient with her; reassuring–”

“I can do that,” he answers quickly. Your heart breaks for him. At the moment, the reason he was sitting next to you is lost, but you know enough to see that he is struggling. He was scared, too. Your fingers squeeze him, giving him a small gesture of reassurance.

He looks down at you before swallowing hard, exhaling a shaky breath through a soft smile before returning to the doctor. “So, she’s gonna be okay,” he asks.

The doctor nods. “Yes. She just needs some rest, assurance, stability, and time.” 

⊹ 💌 ⁺ ˳ ✿ . ♥️ ࿐

Rafe keeps his hand on your lower back, leading you from the car up to your downtown apartment. Your eyes search around, taking in everything seemingly for the first time. It was new to both of you–the two of you moving in just weeks before.

“Any of this look familiar? He asks as he helps you out of your jacket. You shake your head ‘no’. Of course, he wants you to remember things… He wants you to feel comfortable and safe, but there was some solace in knowing you didn’t remember this as well because, for the moment, the only memory lost was him. 

The apartment is beautiful, warm, and inviting–a love letter of your life together so far, picture after picture, memories that you’d eventually get back.

Rafe watches you closely as you take it all in, knowing the moment the photo was taken meant nothing, hoping for you to see how much he meant to you at that moment at least. 

You follow Rafe as he moves into the kitchen, grabbing a vase off the table, taking out some older flowers, and replacing them with new ones. You smile brightly, melting his heart as he replaces them with red roses instead. 

“Valentine’s Day?” You ask as you walk toward him, stepping into the kitchen. He sets the flowers back before returning to your side.

Rafe wraps his arms around you, pulling you gently against his chest, his chin resting lightly on top of your head.

“Yeah, baby.”

You both take a deep, needed breath. His cologne is rich, a warm vanilla with a hint of tobacco. You rest your head on his muscular chest, listening to his steady heartbeat. Tears start to well in your eyes again. 

“Hey,” he whispers, his hand tracing slow, soothing circles against your back as your fingers grip the fabric of his sweater like you need something to hold onto. “We’ll figure this out together, alright? No pressure. No rush.”

The emotion building in your chest was too much. All you could offer was a slight nod against him. Rafe presses a kiss against your hair, keeping it there momentarily.

“All you need to know is that this is your house, and I’m yours. Okay?” 

“Okay,” you whisper shakily. 

“Well,” he hums as he draws back slightly, meeting your eyes. “We can still do a few things we had planned,” he murmurs, his voice warm and gentle.

“We had plans?” You ask, hopefully. 

Rafe nods as his hands run down your arms, lacing his fingers in yours before walking backward, pulling you toward the kitchen. “It’s Valentine’s Day, princess. Of course, we have plans.”

Princess… Rafe sees the way you react to it–your lips part slightly in a bashful smile, that same flicker in your eyes you had the first time he called you that. “You like that, huh?” He teases. 

You giggle and bite your lip, finding yourself having to look away before looking back at the beautiful man before you–the man who wanted nothing more than for you to remember that he belonged to you. 

Rafe pulls out a stool at the kitchen island, draping your shoulders in a cozy blanket before passing you a glass of water.

“Water?” You pout teasingly as he places the bottle of red wine on the counter back on the wine rack. He shakes his head and laughs before heading back toward you. 

“You heard what he said, pretty,” he hums as he rests his hands on the counter, leaning in closer, making your heart race. 

“You’re really taking care of me,” you smile.

“Of course I am. Not to brag or anything, but that’s kinda what I do,” he hums. “I mean, you said it yourself, sweetheart. I’m the best boyfriend ever. I'm smartest, funniest, and sexiest, for sure,” he chuckles and winks.

“Anything else?” You smile. 

“Mmm… Mhmm,” he mumbles. “You’ve never loved a man before me. In fact, no men existed before me,” Rafe smiles devilishly.

You roll your eyes and smile. “Whatever you say.” 

Rafe reaches under the counter, grabs a pot and a pan, and sets them on top. 

“Wait—do you cook?”

Rafe bursts out laughing, looking back at you like there’s a story there. “Hell no… But you do,” he adds with a grin. “And it’s so fuckin’ good.”

“Yeah?” You smile; your love for cooking’s seared in your memory, but his reaction to your cooking’s brand new. 

Rafe nods enthusiastically. “Baby, you have no idea. Your pasta? Life-changing. Your chicken parm? I swear–”

You smile against the rim of your water glass before taking a sip, listening to him rant and rave. “So,” he says playfully, “since I clearly have no skills in the kitchen, you’re gonna walk me through it.”

Your eyebrow lifts in amusement as a smile curls on your lips. “You want me to teach you how to cook?”

“Mhmm… And don’t worry, I’ll do all the actual work. You just sit there and be your gorgeous, sexy, bossy self, yeah?”

“Bossy?” You laugh as you put your hand under your chin, leaning into the counter. “I boss you around?” 

Rafe smiles boyishly as he looks down at the ingredients list before him. “Don’t worry, princess, I love it,” he mumbles, his words sending a rush of warmth through your body. 

“I don’t remember what I was gonna make.” 

“It’s the chicken thing I like,” he answers as he sets the ingredients on the counter. “You made it for me on our first date. You said it was your specialty–”

“Chicken Cordon Bleu,” you answer with a smile. 

“Mhmm,” he hums with a cheeky grin. “I mentioned that I had it before in college, and I didn’t know that it was something that didn’t come wrapped in plastic and put in the microwave, and you called me disgusting.” 

Your hand covers your smile, not at all surprised with yourself. “I’m sorry–”

“Don’t be,” he chuckles as he sets the last ingredient on the counter. “You looked just like you did right now when you said it, so I was more focused on that,” he smiles, looking back at you in adoration. 

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah, baby,” he smiles. Rafe pulls out the last ingredient before looking at you, waiting for instructions. 

“Alright, first, you need to start the oven.” 

“Start. The. Oven,” he repeats your words slowly as he walks across the kitchen to the appliance. He puts his hands on his hips, looking at the little buttons and knobs before leaning in. He presses the start button, and the oven quickly responds with a shrill beep, making him tense up. “Shit,” he chuckles. “I made it mad.” 

“Temperature first, baby,” you smile. Rafe looks over his shoulder slightly before looking back at you with a smile, wondering if he heard you right. 

“Push ‘start’ again?” He asks, purposefully getting the instruction wrong, hoping you’ll repeat it.

“Temperature first, baby,” you smile, seeing how much your words affect him. 

“Yes, ma’am.” 

Rafe walks back toward you, his beautiful eyes focused on yours. As he worked, Rafe kept talking, filling the kitchen with stories, little pieces of you.

“We went to Italy?” He says. “About two months ago… It was the best trip ever. You dragged me through every little café, every hole-in-the-wall restaurant. We ate so much pasta, holy shit. That bottle of wine I put away was from that trip–delicious, baby. So damn good,” he hums as he recalls the memory himself.

The smell of the food fills the kitchen, and that familiar aroma surrounds you. “And those?” You ask, gesturing to the counter at a small, white box with a bow. 

“Perugina. Also from Italy. I’ve been savin’ them for Valentine’s Day,” he smiles as he cleans off the messy counter with a rag. 

You untie the chocolate box ribbon, picking one up, popping it into her mouth. Rafe scoffs, scrunching his nose as his eyebrows pinch together. “Hey, you’re not gonna be hungry for my five-star meal.”

You roll your eyes and laugh, reaching into the box to grab one for Rafe before holding it to his lips. He hesitates momentarily, his soft eyes flickering between you and the chocolate before taking it between his lips. Your finger grazes the slight stubble on his jaw, your thumb dragging ever so slightly on his plump bottom lip, making his heart stumble.

“Good?” You ask, your voice laced with sensuality. 

“So good,” he hums. Rafe grabs one himself, holding it up to your mouth. You take it between your lips, wrapping them around his fingers, lingering momentarily. The energy in the room shifts from light teasing to something deeper, which you could imagine would typically end with his lips on yours. The tension between you builds, and you feel a flutter in your stomach. 

“Good?” He asks. 

“Delicious.” 

Rafe set the plates on the dining table, resting yours in front of you before taking a seat.

He looks at you out of the corner of his eye, nervously awaiting your reaction. “This is amazing…” You praise, watching as the tension in his shoulders fall. “So,” You say between bites, “tell me about you.”

Rafe smiles, tilting his head as he looks back at you. “What do you wanna know?”

“Anything. I feel like I should know everything, but…” You exhale, pressing your lips together before shaking her head. 

“Hey, we’ve got nothing’ but time, aight? First date convo. The basics. What do you wanna know, princess?” 

You nod in agreement, looking back at him as you think about what you want to ask first. “What do you do? For work?”

Rafe’s lips twitch, a bit of pride slipping into his expression. “I’m closin’ a huge deal soon. It’s been in the works for months.”

“Oh?” You ask, intrigued. “Business guy?”

“Commercial real estate, yeah.” 

Your lips draw to the side as you push a glazed carrot around your plate, trying to think of something else. “And what do I do?”

Rafe scoots a little closer and smiles, resting his forearms on the table as he looks back at you proudly. “You own a restaurant.” 

“I do?” You ask happily. 

“Mhmm… For about two years now, I believe. A very, very successful one,” he praises you as you look back at him in wonder. 

“Wow… What kind of restaurant?”

“Upscale New American Cuisine,” Rafe answered quickly. “And I still don’t know what that means. But, it’s one of the most well-known spots in Charleston.”

Your lips part slightly, a flicker of something crossing your mind. “The Social?”

Rafe’s breath catches, his heart skipping a beat. “Yeah, baby,” he answers gently. 

“I’ve been thinking about that for years–since I graduated…”

“And you pulled it off,” Rafe adds.

Rafe watches you carefully, letting you sit with that realization for a moment, “That’s where we met.”

“Tell me about it.” 

Rafe smiles and nods as he takes your hand in his. “Alright, princess… Umm. You were pissed at me.”

You burst out laughing again, just like you did before. Your hand covers your mouth, half-covering your smile. “Why?” You chuckle weakly. “There’s no way.”

“I swear. You didn’t know me yet, but you hated me that first night, for a while at least.”

“Why?” You ask, scrunching your nose in disbelief with yourself, especially considering how sweet he’s treating you now. It’s hard to think of another moment when you could be pissed at him, let alone hate him.

“Because I was late for my reservation,” he admits. “Like twenty… thirty minutes, maybe? I came in with a party of twelve, and you were slammed. You had given the tables away, and I shuffled in with all those people, totally expecting the table to be ready.” 

“Uh oh,” you chuckle. 

“Uh oh, is right… You told me to fuck off.” 

“No!” You gasp. 

“I’m just fuckin’ with you,” he laughs. “Nah. You told me, very professionally, that you gave my tables away and that if I wanted to eat, I would have to wait.” 

“And what did you say?” You ask as you lean in a little more. 

“I turned on the charm, obviously,” he answers smugly. “Charmed your panties right off you.” 

“Oh my god,” you laugh, feeling your cheeks heat up.

“Mhmm… Flirted with you shamelessly,” Rafe adds. “I told you no one has ever looked this good kickin’ me out of a restaurant. And somehow, magically, ten minutes later, you had a table for twelve in the back.” 

You smile and nod, looking back at Rafe as his eyes twinkle in the candlelight, looking back at you lovingly. “Everyone left, and I decided to stay for a drink, and before I could even look around for you, the prettiest woman I have ever seen in my life sat next to me. And, the rest is history.” 

⊹ 💌 ⁺ ˳ ✿ . ♥️ ࿐

Without hesitation, you curl up beside him, resting your head in his lap. Rafe takes a slow, steady breath, trying to control his emotions.

The movie plays softly in the background, but neither of you is paying attention, focusing more on each other.

Rafe tests the waters, leaning down, pressing a gentle kiss on your forehead like he’s wanted to all night. The moment he pulls back, his eyes meet yours. And unlike before, when he kissed you in the street, the fear was gone. 

You swallow hard, blinking up at him, your voice barely above a whisper. 

“I love you.”

Rafe looks down at you, and just like before, he’s unsure what he heard you or if it’s just some sweet dream. “Yeah?” He asks weakly.

You nod; your eyes never leaving his. “I don’t—I don’t remember everything,” you admit, her voice thick with emotion. “But I feel it, Rafe. I feel you.”

Rafe’s jaw tightens as he struggles to keep himself from falling apart completely.

“I know how much you love me,” you continue, reaching up to cup his cheek. “I can see it in how you look at me and how you’ve taken care of me all night. I’m so lucky to have you.”

Rafe’s vision blurs, but he doesn’t care, letting his tears roll down his cheeks. He turns his face into your palm, kissing the inside of her wrist before whispering, “You have no idea how much I love you, princess.” He wraps his big arms around you, pulling you in for a tight hug. He buries himself in your neck, feeling a wave of relief crash over him. 

When Rafe lowers you again, you shift before he can react, straddling him and wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders. The sudden movement widens his eyes; a surprised chuckle leaves his lips as his large hand instinctively rests on your hips. 

“Well, this is unexpected,” he teases, his voice low and laced with affection. 

You smile softly, scratching your fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck before you lean in, letting your lips ghost over the top of yours. Rafe’s breathing matches yours, lips brushing ever so slightly. And, just when he can’t take anymore, he leans in, pressing a deep, lingering kiss on your lips. 

His breath catches in his muscular chest, his grip tightening on your body as you melt into his warm embrace. Rafe’s heart pounds at the way you kiss him–no hesitation, no caution, fully. Just like the first night, you were together. 

“Is this too much?” He asks gently between kisses.

“No,” you whisper. “Not at all.” Your hands rest on his stomach, drifting higher up the cozy material of his sweater, pressing against his chest, then pressing again.

You still, pulling back slightly as you meet Rafe’s eyes, his brows furrow in confusion until he realized what he had done.

Your hand rests over your mouth, your eyes wide as you beg the silent question. 

Is that what I think it is?

Rafe freezes, his heart hammering in his chest as he gives you a slight nod. “Can I see it?” You whisper. 

He exhales slowly, his lips twitching into a nervous and excited smile. “I can never say ‘no’ to you, princess.” 

“Okay,” you answer as your eyes shimmer with tears.

Then, in one swift motion, Rafe lifts you to your feet, standing there before dropping to one knee, pulling out the box you felt in his breast pocket. 

“I’m askin’ you again. But, if I’m showing you, I’m still gonna do this right,” he whispers, his voice low and thick with love.

Tears well in both of your eyes as you stare at each other, caught in a moment that’s bigger than all of the lost memories.

Rafe swallows hard, staring up at you from his knee with the engagement ring resting in the open box in his palm.

His heart pounded so fiercely he could feel it in his throat, his hands trembling slightly—not out of fear, but because this moment, you had always been the most important thing in his life.

He takes a deep breath, steadying himself before speaking. “Sweetheart, I know things are complicated right now. And if I’m being honest, yeah—a part of me is sad that you don’t remember all the beautiful memories we’ve made. Because, God, baby, there are so many,” his voice breaks as he pushes out the last few words.

“If I’m bein’ completely honest, I would have proposed to you the first night I met you.” A soft, choked laugh escapes him, and he tilts his head, looking at you with the same love he always has.

“The second you rolled those pretty little eyes at me at your restaurant, I knew you were it for me.” You lift your arm, wiping your eyes along the sleeve of your sweater.

Rafe’s expression softens, even more, his free hand reaching for yours. He rubs his thumb over her knuckles and smiles.

“I love you,” he murmurs, looking up at you like you’re the only thing in the world. “I’ve loved you through every version of us—through every moment, every fight, every laugh. And I’ll love you through this,” Rafe promises. “I’ll love you while we figure it all out, while we rebuild every memory you lost, while you fall for me again—which, by the way, is inevitable because I’m incredibly charming.”

Your cheeks burn from your smile, and your eyes shut slightly, causing the tears to tumble down your cheeks.

“So, what do you say, princess? Will you marry me?”

“Yes,” you whisper without hesitation. Rafe barely lets you finish before he slips the ring onto your finger, his hands shaking slightly.

The second it’s in place, he surges to his feet, cupping your face in his hands as he kisses you deep and desperate, filled with so much love it nearly steals your breath.

“I love you,” you whisper as your fingers trace the back of his neck. 

Rafe grins, pulling you back in again, whispering a breathless ‘I love you too’.

Just like before, you move on instinct, jumping into his strong arms, wrapping your legs around his trim waist as your body presses against Rafe’s, kissing him just like you have countless times before. And even if you couldn't remember all those beautiful moments just yet, your body knew him.

Rafe’s big hands grip your thighs, holding you tight. "We should go to bed,” you whisper through a soft smile. 

Rafe chuckles, still breathless, his lips grazing your cheek. "You need to relax, princess."

"I am relaxed,” you murmur, nuzzling against your fiancé’s neck. "Please, baby. You said you can never say ‘no’ to me…”

He groans softly at your words, tightening his hold on you as he searches for your face. 

"Okay," he whispered, voice thick and hungry. "But I'm takin’ care of you… Princess treatment. You're not doin’ shit but cummin’, alright?” He asks. 

You nod, fingers threading through his hair. "I want you."

His chest ached at how you said it, like even though your memories were still scattered, you knew he was the one person who would always be there.

Rafe carries you toward the bedroom, your lips meeting again and again, slow and deep, each kiss stealing a little more of the space between you. 

He works off his sweater and shirt between kisses, and you undo his belt and slacks. Your hands fall down his toned skin as your breathing grows heavier, smiling against his lips.

Rafe follows your focus, your emerald-cut diamond glistening in the low light. “I’m gonna take care of you, alright. Now… Always. Okay?” He asks. 

“I know you will,” you whisper, making him smile against your lips. 

Rafe carefully takes off your sweater, quickly raising his hands to caress your curves. He smiles as he takes in the red lace. 

“This is new,” he whispers as his thumb brushes against the delicate material, making your nipple press against the fabric, whimpering at the subtle down.

Rafe reaches down, hooking his finger under the band of your leggings, looking up at you, silently asking for consent. You look at him and smile, giving him a slight nod. He pulls them down to your feet, kissing higher and higher. 

“These are new, too,” he hums as he slips his finger under the band of your matching panties. The set is no doubt purchased for the man standing in front of you.

He reaches behind your back, kissing your shoulder as he unclasps your bra, letting it fall off your shoulders onto the floor. Rafe lifts you off your feet, and you find yourself in his arms yet again; this time, it’s skin on skin. 

He sets you on the bed carefully, taking his time, looking at you underneath him. Rafe works slowly, biting the band of your red panties and pulling them down your thighs. 

You can feel the chill of your wetness between your thighs as he breathes warmly against your sex. Reaching down, you rest your slight fingers on your clit as he watches, rubbing for a moment, teasing him, making him chuckle out a deep, dark laugh. 

“No touching, princess,” he hums as he grabs your left hand, taking your middle and ring fingers into his mouth, sucking them clean up to the jewelry. 

Goosebumps spread across your skin as he kisses your inner thighs, working closer and closer ‘til he’s kissing your clit.

You throw your head back into the pillow, thighs drawing in. Rafe grabs your knees, carefully spreading you wide, spitting on your pussy before sucking down, sliding two fingers into your soaked hole.

“So fucking wet,” he moans against your cunt, working you with his mouth just like you love, sucking, flicking, and kissing, leaving you crying out for more. 

You feel yourself just seconds away from your release, but he already knows, quickening his pace, sucking down just a little more until your body comes undone. Your fingers twist in his hair, pulling him close as you pulse around his thick digits. 

You relax around him, dissolving into the mattress as he continues to work his fingers in and out, watching your body continue to respond to his touch. 

“How was that, princess?” Rafe asks with a smile, already knowing his answer. His long fingers are a mess with your climax.

You grab his wrist, drawing his fingers between your mouth, wrapping your lips around them, gliding them in and out like you’d suck him off.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he moans, watching you close. “We gotta get you feelin’ better. You’re so good at that…” 

“Come here,” you smile, wrapping your hand around his neck and leading him to your lips. You look at the space between you, watching his thick cock, leaving a slight streak of precum on your stomach as he moves closer. “Fuck, baby,” you moan needily.

Rafe wraps his fist around his dick, tapping your clit, making your body jolt with sensitivity. 

“Are you okay, baby?” He mumbles against your lips. “You wanna keep goin’?” Rafe asks as he traces his swollen tip around your soaked hole, pressing himself against it. 

“Please,” you whisper against his lips. “I need you, please–” And just like when he was sliding on your ring, he could barely wait until you got the rest of the words out, filling your tight cunt like he was always meant to be there. 

He lets out a deep groan, feeling the way your body pulls him in—the way the shape of you fits exactly how it should. “You feel that? Pussy was made for me, baby,” he breathes as he draws out, thrusting himself back in.

Rafe rolls his body into you, reaching that perfect spot inside you. Your body tightens around him, fingers twisting into the sheets.

You reach up, grabbing his cheeks, pressing a deep kiss against his lips; Rafe, swallowing your moans and pleasured cries.

Your back arches into him–nipples brushing against his chest. His chain falls on your chest, sticking to your sweat-glistened skin, making the tears pooling on your waterline fall as you see your initials etched in gold. 

“I love you, Rafe… I love you,” you whisper as he picks up the pace. 

“I love you more,” he soothes as he reaches up, rubbing the tears away with his thumbs. “Come on, baby. Cum on my cock.” 

You bite your lip and nod, looking up at him as your climax comes hard and fast, your body pulsing with pleasure around his thick dick as he works you through your orgasm. 

“Fuckkk,” he moans, drawing out the word as he empties himself inside you, his eyes screwing shut as you purposefully clench around him, making his body shudder.

He collapses on top of you, lips finding your forehead as he kisses, lingering as he catches his breath. Rafe moves a little lower, nuzzling his face against you, his voice barely above a breath as he whispers, “I love you.”

⊹ 💌 ⁺ ˳ ✿ . ♥️ ࿐

tags: @rafesthroatbaby | @marleymarleymarleymarley | @chelzaa | @rafesheaven | @nemesyaaa | @starkeysbabygirl | @littlelamy | @cameronsprincess | @lottalove4evelyn | @yasmin-oviedo | @vanessa-rafesgirl | @watchmerora | @rafeslovergirly | @buckybarnessweetheart | @anamiad00msday | @namelesslosers | @cades-outsider | @romaescapes | @starkeysprincess | @lish-0 | @oxpogues4lifexo | @unrealmirrorball | @lilithblackkk | @sleepiibunniiii | @gri959 | @rafesgiirl | @daryldixon83 | @akobx | @hyperfixationgirl | @lhhlver | @rrafeswhore | @slut-4-gojo | @blair-bears-blog | @loveesiren | @rafescorpsebride | @rafegf-real | @alphabetically-deranged | @ariana2saucyy | @rafestoothbrush | @hauntedfawnn | @laniirackssss | @wtfdudesblog | @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account | @jkrafe | @alejstarkey | @rafe-cameronswife | @rafedaddy01 | @st8rkey

[arcadia-of-pluto]

Casually calling him daddy; Caleb

Word count; 922

Warnings; "daddy" ofc, fluff

Notes; Hope yall enjoy these updated drabbles!! <3

☆☆☆☆☆

You and Caleb weren't…well, technically, you weren't dating, but you weren't exactly sure what to call it. Your relationship is the same it's always been.

The usual cuddling, hand-holding, pretending to date to thwart love confessions…

And you were trying to figure out how exactly to push the envelope just a step further.

As you were scrolling through decade old apps, you found a TikTok compilation.

Now, you weren't exactly sure what TikTok was since it was, at least, 20-years old, but you decided to watch the video anyways since you were doom scrolling in bed at Caleb's home.

As you were watching, one trend caught your eye.

It was the aptly named “calling your boyfriend daddy” trend and while you didn't have a boyfriend…you did have Caleb.

You weren't exactly sure what kinks Caleb had, but whether his reaction was sexual, disgust, or whatever it may be, you wanted to see. So, with that thought in mind, you get up and call your OTTO into the room.

“Hello, master, what do you need help with today? Do you need breakfast? Master Caleb left two hours, thirty-five minutes, and 40 seconds ago to go to work. He won't be home until–”

“Thank you so much for that, OTTO, but I needed something else.” You quickly cut the circular robot off, feeling a bit bad for doing so, but you doubt its feelings would be hurt. “Whenever Caleb gets home and we start cooking, can you switch to your recording mode?”

“I can do that. Any video saved will go straight to Master Caleb's phone.” The bot says as it flies around your head and you shrug, “That's fine with me. Let me know when he gets home!”

Now, you just need to figure out how you'll seamlessly bring the word up in conversation with Caleb…

“He's home! He's home!” OTTO shouts, almost excitedly, as it speeds around the house similarly to an overexcited dog. Though, its warning was a tad too late as Caleb steps in the door while the bot is excitedly yelling.

“You missed me so much, you got OTTO to tell ya when I get home?” He laughs as he takes his Colonel hat off, setting it on the coffee table.

“Maybe…” you grab his hat, putting it on as you shove him toward his room. “Go get changed, I'm hungry.”

“Alright, alright. Geez, no need to be in such a hurry, pipsqueak.” He holds his hands up, allowing you to push him.

After he's changed, he joins you in the kitchen with OTTO flying steadily around the room.

“Did you tell OTTO to do something? It's acting realllly strange.” Caleb's eyes narrow as he shuts the rice cooker. “Nope, maybe it's broken.” You shrug, continuing to peel an apple.

You decided to make an apple smoothie for both you and Caleb, almost completely forgetting about your earlier plan. “Oh right…” you murmur under your breath.

How were you going to bring it up…

“What're you thinking about, pipsqueak?” Caleb rests an arm on your shoulder as he pokes the skin between your eyebrows. “What's got you furrowing your brows?”

“Well da– I mean, hmm…” you're honestly feeling a bit frustrated, but also embarrassed that you can't find a way to naturally insert this word into the conversation.

How come he can do it so easily when calling you pipsqueak?

Caleb raises a brow, leaning more into your view. “What did you say?”

“Ah, it's nothing.” You shove at his chest with a small laugh. “Give me some space, Caleb. You know I'm holding a knife, right?”

But as soon as you say this, you feel an odd pressure on your wrist. Your hand lets go of the knife and it clatters on the marble countertop.

“Caleb– ?”

He turns your body to face him, your back against the counter as he tilts his head to the side.

“Go on.”

“I wasn't going to say anything, seriously!” You can't help but laugh, turning your head to look away from him.

He didn't know exactly what you were going to say from just a few letters…right?

He grabs your chin, turning your head to face him. “Don't look away from me.” He jerks his chin up as he looks down at you. “Go ahead, say what you were going to say. I'm waiting.”

Embarrassment along with…something else was boiling in the pit of your stomach and you let out a low, panicked whine, lightly stomping your foot.

Suddenly, you felt like you couldn't say anything. So tongued that you just kept your mouth shut.

A sharp laugh escapes Caleb and his grip tightens around your chin. “Alright, brat. You really don't want to say it?” He hums, eyes flitting from yours to your lips. “Then I guess that means…no braised chicken tonight?”

“Huh–” you owlishly blink at him, before finally coming back to life. “That's not fair–!”

“Then…Say. It.” Caleb clicks his tongue, slowly leaning forward so his forehead rests against yours.

“I…ugh.” You sigh, feeling heat rush to your cheeks. “I'm sorry…daddy.”

“Good girl.” He hums with a content smile, dipping his head down to lightly peck your lips before suddenly, he's gone. “Now get back to your smoothie.”

Your face was red as you stared at his back. How the hell was he so unphased!?

That's so unfair.

But as you puff out your cheeks in annoyance, you notice how one of his hands is balled up into a fist and his ears are a pretty shade of red.

Casually calling them "daddy" LADS

Word count; 1,913

Themes; slightly barely there suggestive content, fluff, established relationship

Warnings; mention of "daddy" ofc, fluff

Notes; So these turned out more fluffy than I originally intended...honestly, thought they'd be more smutty, but I've learnt that it's really difficult for me to write smut. Or at least, smut with little to no context before it all goes down. I might eventually write some smuttier drabbles, but regardless of smut, I hope you enjoy this little thing I wrote!

You saw that there was an old trend about calling your boyfriend “daddy” and videoing their reaction so, obviously, you wanted to give it a try…

Xavier 

It's been almost a year since you and Xavier started dating– and it was a wonderful eleven months! He told you everything about himself. What his future with you was like, all of his feelings throughout the centuries, and you listened. You wholeheartedly believed him, because it would be one hell of a lie if it wasn't true…and you didn't think Xavier had the time or energy to come up with a complex lie like that. 

But even if you now know, time moves on. There's not much you can do about your future self, so you can't really change the future in that way though…Xavier's here now, in the past, and that's all that matters to you. 

Anyway, today was just a normal day as any. 

You were sitting at the counter, keeping a close eye on Xavier– who was attempting to follow, yet another, cooking tutorial. The man was desperate to cook a decent meal for you. His heart dead set on making you something edible for your upcoming year anniversary…and while that was cute, you also wanted to mess with him. 

You push your cup just out of your reach and make a big show of trying to reach for it, before sighing loudly. 

“Daddy, can you pass me my drink please?” 

You can hear the clang of a spatula hitting the floor and you watch Xavier’s body comically whip around to face you. 

“What?” His head cocks to the side as his wide eyes were set on your face. “Say that again..”

“Hmm? I said ‘Xav, can you pass me my drink, please’.” You copy his head tilt and he quickly shakes his head.

 “No, no you didn't.” He takes a few steps toward you before grabbing your hand in-between both of his. “Say it again.” 

You couldn't resist his sweet puppy dog eyes, so you hold back a smile as you meet his eyes. “I...called you daddy.” 

“Really?” He seems unusually excited. “So are we…?” His gaze lowers to your stomach and you can’t help the giggle that slips from your lips. 

Gosh, he was so cute. 

“Baby– no, no. We're not pregnant.” You run your fingers through his hair with a smile on your lips. “Are...you disappointed?” 

“Mmh..” Xavier hums thoughtfully for a moment before he shakes his head. “No. We can just make it a reality later. No need to rush.” 

Zayne 

You and Zayne have only been dating for six months, but it felt like much longer. Having known each other since you were little, you both had always been close– well, your definition of close and his were probably different. You always thought of him as a friend while he tried to keep a distance and thought you hated him. But time brought you both back together with him as your primary care physician. 

The two of you had been flirting up until his birthday and finally made it official once he blew his candles out on the cake you made for him. It was a sweet time, but that was six months ago. 

Now, though, you really want to fluster the man. 

He always embarrasses you and makes you feel nervous, but you never get to see him that way. Sure, his ears will turn red and sometimes he won't meet your eyes when you get too intense with him, but you've never seen him absolutely shocked. And you just wanted to see one look of surprise from him. 

So, what did you decide to do? 

You decided to casually call him "daddy” as a joke.

That should definitely go over well. 

Zayne is seated behind his desk at the hospital, sorting through papers as you longue on his sofa. Your eyes continuously glancing toward the windows to make sure the door was shut and the blinds were closed. 

“If you keep staring at the door, you just might burn a hole through it.” Zayne says, though he didn't even look up from his paperwork. He was attentive like that and probably already knew you wanted something or you were ready to go home. And he was right. 

“When are we going home…daddy?” You ask as you kick your feet in the air behind you. You were on your stomach, resting your cheek against your arms as you watched his expression…which didn't change at all. 

"Just give me a few more minutes, angel, and I'll be done.” Zayne pushes his glasses up with his index finger and clicks his pen, jotting down a few notes. 

“I–” You puff your cheeks out with a small sigh and decide to keep going with it. “I want to go home now, daddy.”

“Didn't I just tell you to be patient?” Now Zayne finally looks up at you with one of his brows raised. “I'll deal with you when we get home.” 

Rafayel 

It's been four months since Rafayel asked you out. Four months since you tugged Rafayel down into the bath with you, which set off a chain reaction of a steamy night, followed by him asking you out the next morning; he also complained that you both went out of order, but he wasn’t too upset when you continued where you left off…

Now, though, you moved out of your apartment and to Rafayel's home, ‘Mo Art Studio’ at Whitesand Bay. 

It was definitely odd at first, but it was a good change of pace. Always being by the ocean, able to take your morning walks together on the beach and collect seashells. You had a whole collection on your desk at work. He'd always give you the most unique and prettiest shells, saying “only the best for his cutie”. 

He was also so easy to fluster. 

You immediately knew you had him wrapped around your finger every time his ears would turn red. That same crimson slowly made its way from his ears to his cheeks, all the way to his whole face. So you assumed your little ‘prank’ would also have the same effect. 

You were sitting on a beach towel in the sand with an umbrella blocking your eyes from the bright sun. In front of you was Rafayel, painting your visage, with an easel. His hand deftly moves across the canvas as he sketches the outline for his new painting. 

Lately, you are the only thing he can paint. Always asking you to stop what you're doing so he can run and get his sketch pad. You could be doing something so normal and mundane, but he'd be struck with the inspiration to record your very image. 

As much as you loved it and thought this was very sweet, after almost two weeks of this…You wanted some form of payback. 

“Hey, daddy, can we take a break for a second? It’s really hot out here.” You squint your eyes to try and see Rafayel's face, your hand fanning at your body because you, seriously, are hot out here. 

“Huh?” 

It's like Rafayel is frozen in time, or buffering. He's just blankly staring at you with a confused expression on his face until his pencil drops into the sand. That's when he quickly stands up  and makes his way toward you. 

“Again.” 

Now, it's your turn to be confused. 

“Raf, what–” 

“Not that, say the other word again.” His ears were red as he crouched down in front of you, a look of determination in his eyes. 

“No– you're making it weird!” You put your hands on his shoulders, trying to put some distance between him as your face turns red. 

“Please, I really need to hear you say it again! I'm seriously going to die if you don't.” There's your overdramatic fishy. 

“Fine, but just this once.” You grumble, turning your head to look away from him. “Daddy…” Though you say it as low as you can and Rafayel groans, tilting his head back. 

“Louder.” He rests his forehead against yours. “Come on, cutie. If you don't…I might want to change that to my new nickname.”

Sylus

It's been about…a year? Yes, definitely a year since you and Sylus started dating. Well, you both have differing opinions on when exactly you started dating. Sylus claims it was the moment he laid eyes on you in the N109 Zone, while you claim it was only about six months ago– which is when you and Sylus made a bet. 

It was a bet where if he came back safely from his mission, he'd leave you alone. He wouldn't bother you anymore, wouldn't talk to you, contact you, anything of the sort…and you won, but you didn't realize he'd actually do it. So whenever you seeked him out to make sure he was safe, and he ignored you, you realized that maybe you did want him in your life. 

This led to you running across the street to him and jumping into his arms like this was a hallmark movie, and you claim this was when you officially started dating Sylus.

But between us, you just agree with Sylus when he says a year, because if you don't, he'll pout for the whole day. 

...And today was one of those ‘pouty Sylus’ days. 

You went on a mission that was probably way too dangerous, even though you told Sylus you were going to slow down on your Hunter's work. But you couldn't just ignore endangered civilians. If any of them would have died, that would've been too much for your sympathetic heart to handle. 

And even if Sylus understands your reasoning, he's still upset that you left without telling him– having woken up to a cold bed without you by his side sent him spiraling into a panic. 

So, when you got home, you noticed he was sulking in the kitchen as he made dinner. 

“Sy…” You take your shoes off by the door, nervously fiddling with your fingers as you tentatively walk into the kitchen. Standing behind the counter, you sigh, “I'm reeaally sorry...” 

“If you're reeaaally sorry, then help me make our dinner.” He says, not looking up at you and that doesn't make you feel any better. 

“Okay..” You finally step past the counter and you look around. “So…what do you need?” You were trying to figure out something– anything that could make Sylus feel better when a thought comes to your mind. 

Most guys probably like it when their girlfriend calls them daddy…right? 

“In the cabinet, top shelf. I need a bottle of garlic powder.” 

Okay, you got this. 

You take a deep breath and open the cabinet, straining your arm to try and reach the seasoning bottle, but your fingertips barely brush it and knock it over. “Shit…” You swallow back your nervousness before continuing, “Daddy, can you grab it for me?” 

The room fills with silence for a moment, but then you hear Sylus chuckle. 

“Sure, kitten.” 

Your back suddenly feels warm as a firm chest presses against it and Sylus reaches up from behind you to grab the bottle. 

“I ask you to do one simple thing and you can't even do that.” Sylus chides, clicking his tongue as he pops the bottle open to pour some into the pan on the stove. 

“Da–”

“If you think a few empty words will make me feel better, kitten…you've got to try a lot harder than that.” 

I'd like to say, this is definitely one of my better drabbles– one of my favorites, in fact!

I have like...six more ideas for drabbles and then I'll need to come up with some more. Like these new cards and Rafayel's student photoshoot event really had me thinking of how seriously the LADS men would take roleplaying– and that spawned a whole different drabble idea, so you can definitely look forward to that!

I'm trying to come up with new ways to do my drabbles, so that's why I did a little prelude before I started writing for the guys. Please let me know any feedback yall have for me! Especially with the coloured dialogue, I'm not too sure if I like it, but it seems really pretty and probably makes it easier to tell who is talking apart. (I won't use it for my fic though, only the drabbles!)

Anyway, I have a small personal project I'm working on this weekend so I probably won't be able to write any chapters for my 'Divisa' fic, but I'm still going to post chapter nineteen of 'Twist of Fate' and try to write at least two more chapters since I'm only on twenty-three or so.

I hope you all enjoyed these drabbles and I hope yall have a great night/day! 🩷

[cherrymoonxx]

Sweetheart Saturdays Pick a Card:

A glimpse at your most intimate emotional moment with your future spouse

Choosing a pile:

Take a moment to connect with your body. Allow yourself to really feel. Focus on your breathing and clear your mind. Choose the pile that calls out to you.

Pile 1:

Candlelit nights, whispered promises, soft reassuring touches…

Welcome pile 1!

For you, I’m seeing a quiet evening. Your future spouse had planned a cozy night in, illuminated by candlelight. I’m seeing two people sitting comfortably on the floor, fire from the candles flickering ever so gently. It’s quiet, with the exception of the two hearts that are beating nervously in anticipation. You attempt to break the silence by making a small joke, hoping to ease some tension, but when you turn to look at your future spouse, you see the intensity in their eyes. Their eyes, focused solely on you. Urging you to see, to understand. So many truths hidden behind those eyes finally coming to light. And you had known, or at least had an inkling. Because you feel the same. But it’s too much in that moment. You start to look away, but they gently caress your face. Ripples of emotion enveloping you both. Their touch on your cheek quietly reassuring you. Any worries slowly starting to melt away. They start to shift closer to you, closing the space between you, stopping only inches from your face. Both hands now cupping your face. They take a moment to admire your features. Your hopeful eyes, the rosy tint on your cheeks, and your lips. Lips ready to be claimed. They smile tenderly. Knowing that they’ll finally reveal the truth you’ve been waiting to hear. And then they whisper those three little words for the first time.

Pile 2:

Silent tears, guarded hearts, can a kiss mend your heart?

Hello pile 2!

For you guys, I’m seeing an intense moment of vulnerability. This comes at a time when you’re running away from something. There’s some kind of anger and hurt involved. A heart afraid of being broken.

Your future spouse had made their intentions clear to you. Their loving words, gentle touches. The way their eyes never fail to light up when they see you and the way they’d pay attention to even the tiniest of details about you. You just knew. But knowing is too much. It’s too painful because you feel you do not deserve this. So you do what you think is best. You lie. Feelings locked away into the depths of your heart. Forcing yourself to be numb. And when they come see you, you lie. You lie when you tell them you never want to see them again. You lie when you say that you’d be better off without them. And you lie when you say that you never felt anything for them. The lies escape your lips continuously. And you hope that you were convincing enough, but your eyes betray your lips. The words gushing out of your mouth mean nothing when your eyes are brimming with tears. The truth quietly unfolding with every tear that cascades down your face. But the stupid tears won’t stop falling. Anger mixes with fear. A struggle to keep those feelings tucked away. Your vision blurs. You’ve lost your composure, any semblance of control completely gone. So many emotions overflowing. Embarrassment, anger, exhaustion. And you hate how vulnerable you feel in this moment. You think there’s no way your future spouse would willingly choose to be with someone that is capable of such hurtful words. You think you must look so pathetic. But when you look at them, their eyes hold no trace of judgment. Instead of leaving, they softly embrace you. Quietly soothing you, whispering reassuring words. Telling you that they know your words are not true. They know your words come from a place of fear. Fear of getting hurt. They understand your fears and they vow to support you in any way they can. And hearing those words only make the tears fall harder. Is it really okay to believe these comforting words? But your future spouse understands you so profoundly. They know how deep your wounds run and they are extremely patient with you. The night ends with you in their arms, spilling your inner most fears. Bearing your heart to them and them accepting it as their most precious gift.

Pile 3:

Longing gazes, gentle touches, a deep understanding between two souls.

Hello pile 3!

For you, I’m seeing an unexpected but welcomed moment. You and your future spouse had been together for a while, and everything had been a dream. You’ve never felt more secure, understood, and safe. They were a constant, grounding presence in the chaos of your life. Little by little, they had slowly made a home in your heart in a way you never thought anyone ever would.

I’m seeing that your future spouse is someone that has been through many hardships and because of that, they have a tough time talking about any problems they may have. They feel like they have to be strong and put on a brave face consistently. And while you admire their strength and their persistence, you wish that they’d let you in. You want to be able to help them when they’re having a tough time, much like they do for you. They do so much for you and they’ve helped you in a way that you will always be grateful for. But you also want to do that for them. To offer your support, be a shoulder to lean on. And this is a topic you’ve brought up a few times, but they kind of just tell you not to worry because they’re okay.

One particular night, the topic is brought up again and things get a little heated. You tell them that you feel this relationship has become a bit one sided. While you’re thankful for how much they take care of you, you feel like they neglect their own needs and never allow you to take care of them. You feel like you have bared your entire heart to them and yet, you feel like you don’t truly know them because they have never fully opened up to you.

“Do you think I don’t care about you?” “Do you not trust me?” “Why won’t you let me in?” These questions pouring out of you. But they just insist that they don’t want you to worry and that there’s nothing for them to say. And that makes you extremely frustrated. You ask them if they think this is how a relationship should be. One person holding all the burden? But they stay silent. You realize that they won’t budge, so before you say something you’ll regret, you leave.

And you guys don’t really talk for a few hours. It’s the first real fight you guys have had and it sucks. You just want to be a pillar of support like they are to you. And you don’t want to push them into anything they’re not comfortable with but you can’t help but feel inadequate. Like you’re not a good partner. And that hurts to think about.

You’re mind is too busy reeling from these thoughts that you just barely noticed when they slipped into bed with you. It’s quiet. None of you saying knowing what to say. But then they turn to you and whisper an apology. They explain how it’s always been difficult for them to ask for help, especially when it comes to their loved ones. They never want to feel like a burden to those they care about the most and even though they know that their feelings aren’t a burden, they can’t help feeling like they are. But seeing how they hurt you by how distant they were, they realized that they needed to make a change. You are the most precious part of their life and they couldn’t bear to lose you.

Hearing these words, you shift closer to them and quietly wrap them in your arms. You hold them tightly as they continue to express all the feelings they’ve been holding in. You wipe their tears as they begin to fall and gently give them reassuring kisses letting them know that they’re safe. You continue to soothe them as they talk for hours. The night is spent with them expressing their inner most thoughts/feelings and you comforting them.

That’s all for now! I hope you all enjoyed this reading💕 Until next time!

[adieutristana]

hii! could i request the arcane women comforting reader on her period?

of course! thank you for the request <3

b2b by charli xcx on repeat yuuuup

summary; headcanons of the arcane women comforting their girlfriend on her period.

characters included; jinx, vi, mel, sevika, caitlyn, maddie

tags/warnings; menstruation, fluff, comfort, suggestive (jinx's section), reader has hell periods, mentions of poor mental health, can't think of anything else honestly

minors and men dni.

jinx;

✧.* idk why, but i headcanon that jinx is one of those super lucky girls who has really light 3-4 day long periods. basically nothing at all.

✧.* so when you told her that your periods were long, and heavy, and painful, she was honestly taken aback. jinx was a bit puzzled as to how that's possible.

✧.* "but mine aren't that bad! are you suuure?"

✧.* she doesn't mean anything by it, she's just genuinely perplexed. sometimes it's difficult for jinx to put these kinds of things into perspective. however, the second she sees you doubled over in pain, clutching your stomach and whimpering in pain, her instincts kick in and she's rushing to your side.

✧.* "oh- oh, toots, are you okay?! what happened? why d'ya look so hurt?" she'd ask, crouching down next to you with panic evident in her voice.

✧.* "just... on my period," you'd strain. "nothing out of the ordinary. don't worry about me."

✧.* jinx absolutely will worry about you, though. she's by your side, asking you what you need. since her own periods are so mild, she doesn't know exactly where to start with this sort of thing. but she's doing her best.

✧.* she'll research! she finds out all about the cravings, mood swings, pains, and how to soothe all of those things. she nerds out when she gets to research anyways, but she'll go above and beyond to make sure her girl is comfortable and happy. as much as you can be during shark week, anyways.

✧.* the same day she finds you in pain, she's swiping things from shelves of pharmacies and convenience stores like no tomorrow. pain medicine, water bottles that she plans to heat up, chocolates, tubs of ice cream, blankets, lots of sanitary products. hell, she'll even burn a few dvds so the two of you can have movie nights. jinx doesn't do anything halfway, especially not something like this.

✧.* even more clingy than normal somehow. i imagine jinx runs pretty cold, but also has a lot of natural body heat, if that makes sense? she uses the guise of being your 'built-in heating pad,' though anyone can tell she just wants to be close to you and comfort you. she'll have both her arms and legs wrapped around you, nuzzling her face into the crook of your neck and peppering kisses along the soft skin.

✧.* "mm.. don't mind me, sugar. just wanna be here for 'ya, help you feel better 'n all that."

✧.* she's got such a sweet tooth, jinx might swipe a few of the snacks she stole for you while you're not looking... sorry. she can't help herself

✧.* will try to distract you to the best of her ability. movie nights as i said, as well as taking you around the streets of zaun (when you can manage to stand upright), gaming with you and purposely letting you win just so she can see your smile and hear your laugh.

✧.* along with the extra clingy thing, jinx will not let you out of your sight until she's absolutely sure that you're off your period. it's not that she doesn't think you can handle yourself, but she just worries so much. part of her knows it's irrational, but seeing you in so much pain eats at her inside, makes her afraid that she's going to lose you. even though it's just a natural part of your cycle

✧.* she's also read that other kinds of relief can be especially helpful for cramps, so you know jinx will be offering that to you if you know what i mean.

vi;

✧.* oh she's right there with you.

✧.* has the worst fucking periods known to man. it's like she's completely MIA as soon as it hits every month, she's just dead to the world. trust me, she understands.

✧.* which means that she can help you that much better! she knows firsthand what it's like and what works for her, but she also knows that it's not a one-size-fits-all situation. it'll take a bit of time, but vi knows what she's doing.

✧.* she's already got a stash of things lined up for you in her bathroom the day after you tell her you've gotten your period. panty liners, pads, tampons of different sizes. she doesn't even bother asking what you prefer to use, she just wants you to have the options depending on what you need at what time. only the best for her girl

✧.* fridge, freezer and cupboards are also full to the brim of your favorite snacks, the best medications. candies, chocolates, baked goods, ice cream, pain relief... all the good stuff.

✧.* don't even bother asking where she got all this stuff and how she could afford it, just let vi take care of you.

✧.* "shh, cupcake. that's for me to worry about. you sit your pretty self down and let me do all the hard work, 'kay?"

✧.* has heated blankets and water bottles ready for you at all times! the second she hears the slightest whimper of pain from you she's got the water bottle in her hand, instructing you to lean back so she can put it against your lower abdomen. she'll stay with you to make sure you're okay. she needs that reassurance both for you and herself.

✧.* vi is the type of lover who can't rest until she knows for sure that you're okay, regardless of how much you tell her that you're alright.

✧.* "i'm fine, baby. really, you don't need to worry about me." you'd say, though the way your face contorted in discomfort betrayed your words. "are you sure? you can't fool me, pretty. i know you're hurting. just let me help you. that's what i'm here for."

✧.* she also knows that insomnia comes with menstruation at times, so she'll make sure you sleep in her bed until you're off your period. holding you close, rubbing soothing circles over your back and stomach to help relieve some of the pain for you. don't worry about clinging to her, don't worry about how long it takes you to fall asleep or even the possibility of bleeding onto her sheets. vi just wants to make you feel comfortable, she'll take care of everything later.

✧.* doesn't let you do a damn thing for yourself. she almost treats you as if you're made of glass. it's not that thinks you're helpless, vi knows damn well just how fierce and independent you are. but she also enjoys taking care of you and knowing she's making your life easier.

✧.* "i'm on my period, not helpless." you'd protest, crossing your arms over your chest with a light pout. vi would chuckle to herself, playfully pinching one of your cheeks. "i know, i know. but i just wanna do this for you, okay? let me take care of you."

mel;

✧.* mel probably knows your cycle by heart after a certain amount of time being with you. not in a creepy way, but she's just that connected and attuned to you.

✧.* she'll come to you a few days before she knows you're due for your period, concern evident in her tone. "are you starting to cramp at all, dear?" she'd ask, or something along the lines of, "i know you're due soon. no discomfort? any cravings? you can tell me these things, darling."

✧.* she has a constant stash of things and she knows your preferences when it comes to hygiene products, snacks, medicine, all of your favorite comforts. she truly knows you like the back of your hand.

✧.* she'll be taking off work for you as well, as much as you protest and assure her that you're okay. realistically, mel knows sure and well that you're okay. but she still wants that time to be with you and make sure that you're comfortable and you're in as little pain as possible. it's more for her own peace of mind.

✧.* her own are honestly pretty moderate, not too bad but not exactly pleasant either. though again, she's attuned to your own senses and knows exactly what you need.

✧.* mel will be basically attached to you by the hip. she doesn't let you out of her sight for a second out of pure worry for you and your well-being. seeing you nauseous, craving the most odd foods, doubled over in pain, it hurts your girlfriend to even think about. she knows she can't outright prevent all of that, but it'll ease her mind to be there by your side.

✧.* mel doesn't insist that you take it easy, she knows that life goes on despite everything. she doesn't want to hover over you too much, but again, she'll be by your side. helping you run errands, walking you to and from work, watching from the sidelines as you do those little things that make you happy. painting, reading, writing... any of it.

✧.* it's a well-known fact that she loves to spoil you, so if you mention wanting anything at all, she won't even go out and buy it for you. she'll take you to the store with her and tell you to just buy whatever you'd like. no limits.

✧.* "anything at all, beautiful. let me treat you." "but mel, this is-" she'd shush you lightly, a playful smile tugging at her lips. "too much? nonsense. i can handle it, you just tell me what you need. it pains me to see you so uncomfortable, regardless of how natural it is."

✧.* holding onto you so tightly, and you just know mel would give the best massages. literally anywhere that's sore, she'll massage for you with such love and care. her fingertips are a bit calloused and rough, but always so soft with you.

✧.* also runs you warm baths and even tosses in salts and flowers! they help her a lot when she's having period-related pains, so she hopes they'll have the same effect on you. she's happy to leave you to yourself, or sit near the edge of the tub and just talk to you. whatever would make you the most comfortable and happy.

sevika;

✧.* she's also got pretty mild periods, but she is very attuned to you and your senses. sevika can't exactly feel your pain and discomfort, though she knows how to ease it.

✧.* trust me when i say that she's got a good supply of things for you. all the sanitary products you could need, extra-strength pain medications, heated blankets, heat pads, snacks, the whole nine yards. uncomfortable and hurting? not on sevika's watch.

✧.* "just tell me what ya need, darlin'. you know i'll get it." she'd say, spooning you tightly while one hand rests over your lower stomach. you'd mumble light protests, but she wouldn't have it. "i know you're okay, babe. you tell me that enough. but i still wanna help, okay?"

✧.* so touchy and so clingy. sevika doesn't want to let go of you for a second, not if she can help it. whether that be holding you from behind while you move about the kitchen cooking, holding you close to her in bed, keeping an arm around your waist as you saunter around the lanes together, or brushing her lips against your forehead, she relishes that contact. especially when you're vulnerable like this.

✧.* she still has things to do. unfortunately, sevika's job isn't really one that she can take time off from, as much as she'd like to. but the second she gets off work, she's back home, by your side. your girlfriend is so loyal, so doting when it comes to you. a side of the usually gruff woman that's reserved exclusively for you.

✧.* she also won't hinder you from doing anything for yourself, the last thing she needs is for you to feel both excruciating pain and helplessness at the same time. however, sevika makes it clear that she's happy to take over whatever task you need if it gets to be too much.

✧.* you could be in the middle of a task when a cramp suddenly hits you, making you nearly fold in half and clutch at your stomach. "hey, what's wrong?" sevika would ask, cold metal against your shoulder. "cramps? come on, i'll take it from here. you go lay down."

✧.* do not worry about needing to ask for help with sevika. ever. she's more than happy to provide it for you, don't worry about asking for 'too much' or being 'too demanding.' you're her girlfriend, and you're on your period. there's no such thing as either of those with her.

✧.* "come on. you know whatever it is, i'll do it for you. so tell me," she'd pause, crossing her arms and raising an eyebrow in that way she typically does, "what do you need, dove?"

✧.* also super attentive during sleep, would probably stay up just so that she can make sure you're okay and sleeping through the night. sevika is used to running on little to no sleep, thank her line of work. she'll try to keep it quiet, not let you know that she's observing, but she just worries. she wants to make sure you aren't suffering any bouts of insomnia. that, and seeing your peaceful expression during slumber is a plus.

caitlyn;

✧.* caitlyn gets it, she really does. one of piltover's strongest enforcers and officials, but struck down once a month by menstruation. something had to take her down a notch.

✧.* she knows exactly what'll help her, and she hopes it'll help you too. though she gives you options, since she knows you probably won't have all the same preferences as her when it comes to sanitary products, snacks, care, etc. cait will take her time so that she gets your routine down pat, before she eventually just has everything stocked in her home for when the time inevitably comes every month.

✧.* caitlyn is constantly checking in on you. she’ll ask you about every little thing, making sure that you’re not straining too hard, not in too much pain. you could be sitting on your bed, folding towels, and caitlyn would ask something like, “are you sure that’s not too much right now? if your back or stomach is hurting, i can take over.”

✧.* she’ll want to keep you at home with her on the days that are the hardest on you. the days where you’re groaning in pain, you can barely think straight from just how uncomfortable you are. when you’re an emotional mess from the mood swings and crying over a puppy you saw on the street. she wants to be there to comfort you and help you get back on your feet.

✧.* “shh… love, it’s fine. i know, that puppy was adorable.” you’d sniffle, looking up at her with pleading eyes. “can we get one, cait? please?” she’d chuckle quietly, letting out a heavy sigh. “maybe when i don’t have so much on my plate.”

✧.* she's on top of your every need. in pain? here's a bottle of painkillers. cravings? she's already got whatever you need. in the case that she doesn't, caitlyn is in the kitchen making something for you herself. she'll be damned if she lets her girlfriend go unsatisfied, especially on her period.

✧.* she'd be so doting especially when it comes to the pain, caitlyn wants to just hold you until all of the cramps are gone. realistically, she knows there's not much she can do besides offer a few over-the-counter methods. she's gonna have to wait until they run their course, but it doesn't make her want to cling to you any less. she wishes she could hold you and you'd feel the rest of the world melt away

✧.* "fuck, cait, it hurts," you'd whimper, clinging tight to the girl with your brows knitted together. she'd softly hush you, her one hand slipping under the fabric of your top to run soothing circles over your lower back. "i know, darling. i'm here, it'll be alright."

✧.* cait would run you warm baths as well, she's at your side the entire times. she'll throw in flower petals and salts, maybe even a bath bomb if it'll make you happy. not only will it help ease the pain, but making you feel cared for in this time is of the upmost importance to her. yes, you feel gross, but you don't have to! look at the nice bath she drew you! she'll even help wash you off if you need it, or she's happy to just stay by your side and talk to you as you soak.

maddie;

✧.* maddie's own are pretty moderate, but she has a cut-and-dry routine she's stuck to as a teenager. works like a charm every time her period rolls around, so she hopes those methods will work for you. though, if they don't, maddie will immediately stop and regroup.

✧.* maddie i don't think would be super in tune with everything.. i apologize. she'll connect the dots after she sees you hunched over in pain or with a bottle of painkillers in one hand and a tub of ice cream in the other, but she won't be able to pick up on it right away like some others might.

✧.* but that doesn't make her any less good at comforting you, let's make that abundantly clear. as soon as she catches onto what's happening, she's basically waiting on you hand and foot. maddie is devoted!

✧.* now of course, she's a junior officer. maddie can't be by your side as often as she'd like to, unfortunately. she likes her job, but sometimes she curses it for holding her back from her girlfriend in times of need.

✧.* so she second she's allowed off the job, she's swinging the door open with a bag full of snacks to make her presence known. "i'm home, darlin'! where are ya?" she'd announce, glancing around the empty space before her eyes land on you. "oh, there you are. here, i brought these back! sorry, i know i was gone for a while, but i'm here now, yeah?"

✧.* however, you'll have to ask for a lot of what you need. maddie knows that you're independent and capable of helping yourself, so she doesn't want to assume unless she knows for sure that you're incapable of it because of pain or discomfort. that's one of the things she doesn't really budge on. if you're able to voice what's bothering you, she'll be more than happy to be of help!

✧.* also really, really good at distracting you. she'll put on movies, plug in cassettes of your favorite albums, talk to you for hours on end about nothing and everything simultaneously. maddie figures that if she can take your mind off of it, that's better than just waiting out the discomfort.

✧.* she kinda sucks at cooking. sorry.. but! she'd still make sure any cravings of yours are filled. freezer is packed to the brim with ice cream, and she's got lots of sugary treats for you in her cupboards. i also would imagine she lives basically smack in the middle of piltover, next to a lot of vendors and convenience stores. so on the off-chance she doesn't have something you need, she's already on her way to grab it for you.

✧.* "i'll be right back, okay? just running around the corner. rest assured."

✧.* also so cuddly especially when it comes to being in bed with you. she's already clingy, but you might have to pry her off of you when you're on your period. she hopes you wouldn't want to, though, not when she's got her legs wrapped around your waist and her head nestled into the warmth of your neck.

[themultifanshipper]

i am ovulating so bad but can I request a franco x reader x ollie smut where they were fighting over the reader like that one fight scene from bridget jones' diary, and the reader was like... why not both??

To say the start of the 2025 season had been eventful was an understatement. 

Or at least from Franco and Ollie’s points of view. 

Warnings: smut, threesome, blowjob (the return of Franco's dick sucking lips), mention of quickies, also a lot of alcohol, Yukierre being little shits, Ted kravitz once again making an appearance, very plot heavy ngl there's not much smut

At some point during the winter break, you had struck up a situationship with Franco. And you’d managed to keep it a secret for about a week. 

There was no such thing as privacy in Monaco, so of course it was inevitable that someone would eventually snap a pic of him leaving your house, and that was it. 

Ollie had been planning on asking you out at the start of the season, given that he now had a full-time seat and you'd be seeing a lot more of each other. 

And he didn’t really consider Franco much of a threat, so he decided to ask him during testing. 

The two of them were gazing at you from across the pitlane. 

“Are you and her like... an official thing?”  

Franco scoffed “What is that supposed to mean?”  

“You know... do you love her?” 

Franco frowned at him.  

“No, I don’t. But just because we aren’t in a relationship, do not think for a second that I will let you have her” 

Ollie raised his hands in surrender. “I didn’t say I wanted to. I’m just curious.” 

Franco didn’t believe him. And Ollie didn’t believe Franco.  

And they were both right. 

Because the truth was that Franco was in love with you, but he was too much of a pussy to do anything about it. So he was fine with just sex, until he could muster the courage to confess to you.  

And the truth was that Ollie was going to do everything he could to have you. He did have feelings for you, that had been brewing for a while, but the added element of competition made him hungry. 

Ollie was nothing if not proactive. He took every opportunity to talk to you, and flirt shamelessly with you. 

And at first, you were reticent. 

You’d been waiting for Franco to make a move. You liked him, a lot. And you knew he liked you. So any day now, right? 

Except weeks went by, and still no indication that Franco was going to make any kind of commitment to you. Not even a drunk phonecall, or a proper date... 

So eventually, Ollie's advances started getting to you. You were only human.  

You had no idea that the two drivers were in any kind of altercation in Melbourne. 

Someone had spotted them having a heated argument and a blurry video was circulating around the more remote spots of the internet, so you missed it completely. 

In China, you got your first indication that something was going on. 

Before FP3, Ollie had come to you saying he wanted to talk to you about something important. 

You told him to meet you in your drivers room after the session, and that you had something to talk to him about as well. 

His heart swelled with hope. Perhaps you also had feelings for him and he was finally going to beat Franco. 

But then, Franco was there, in your drivers room, waiting for you after the session.  

“I’m waiting for someone, you need to get out before someone sees-” 

“I don’t care about Ollie, I need you so bad right now” he groaned into your neck while his hands worked to get your suit off. 

He’d never done anything so bold before. And as soon as his hands and lips were on you, you caved. He had his way with you on the massage table, doing his best to get the sweetest, and loudest, noises out of you in an effort to ward any lurkers away. 

One of said lurkers, Ollie, froze when he heard the noises coming from your room.  

His heart sank, Franco had gotten to you first.  

This time. 

You and Ollie both did terribly on sunday. You weren’t expecting a podium, but some points would have been nice. And Ollie DNF’d thanks to one of the Alpines (in his mind he blamed Franco, even though the Argentine wasn’t even in a car) crashing into him in turn 2. 

So you and him did the only thing you knew would lift your spirits. You went out drinking. 

You ended up in some club, and you knew Yuki and Pierre were there as well. 

You drank, and danced with the three men. Forgetting your worries for a night. You hadn’t had that much fun in a while, Yuki and Pierre were absolutely unhinged when you got a bit of alcohol down them. 

Ollie stuck by your side the whole night, and eventually your mind went back to the FP3 session. 

You dragged him outside to talk (the club was stifling, and loud as fuck), and he wondered briefly if there was something wrong because of the haste with which you’d grabbed him. 

“Ollie, I just wanted to say I’m sorry about Friday. I got... distracted”  a blush crept over your cheeks. 

Ollie found it adorable. 

“That’s okay” he pulled you into a drunken hug “At least you were making so much noise there was no chance of me walking in on you” 

You giggled shyly, nuzzling into his chest.  

“Oh my god... that’s so embarrassing” 

“Well, I suppose that was Franco’s way of staking his claim” there was an undertone of something almost bitter in the way he said his name. 

That was a very odd thing to say. Why would Franco even need to stake a claim? Unless... 

“Let’s go inside, I’m cold” you muttered, and Ollie led you back to the booth where Pierre and Yuki were arguing over whether Mijiu or Baijiu tasted better. 

You had no idea what either of them were, so you ordered a round of both for everyone to do a taste test. 

They were both awful in your opinion, so you ordered a round of shots of tequila to wash them down. 

It didn't take long before all of you made your way to the dance floor, inhibitions completely obliterated. 

In the back of your mind, you had a plan. Granted you were on the edge of blackout drunk, but it still made sense to you. 

When the song changed to something a bit slower and more... sensual, you shuffled closer to Ollie.  

If Franco had been trying to stop Ollie from talking to you, there had to be a reason, right? 

So you moved to the beat, rolling your hips enticingly as you sang along to the words. 

Ollie lifted an eyebrow in question, his lips curving into a drunken smirk. 

You bit your lip and got closer, hooking your fingers into his belt loops to pull him in. 

He got into the rhythm very quickly, and slid a hand around your lower back to hold you close while you danced. 

The tension was palpable, but the chemistry was undeniable as you moved in sync, rolling your hips to the heavy bass pumping through the speakers. 

Your faces were inches apart, separated only by your mingling breaths, and the rapidly dwindling amount of restraint you two had. 

“Kiss mee” you slurred, smiling up at him. You needed to know whether he wanted you as much as you wanted him. As if the way you were grinding on each other wasn’t enough. 

“What?!” 

“Kiss me!” you said, louder. 

His mouth opened, hesitation written all over his face, but he glanced down at your lips. 

Between the alcohol and the noise of the club, it was impossible to hear anything, so you mistook his hesitation for misunderstanding. 

You decided to get your point across by curling a hand into his hair and pulling him down to crash your lips together. 

He quickly got over the shock of it and cupped your face with his hands to deepen the kiss. 

You didn’t know how long you stood there making out, but it was long enough for Yuki to come and tell you that he and Pierre were leaving and that you could all share an uber if you wanted. 

The miniscule part of your brain that was still rational decided that you and Ollie should go with them, so you did. 

You had what you wanted anyway. Confirmation that you had two boys that wanted you. 

Japan is where you realised just how badly. 

You didn’t know about their arguments over the weekend, you just knew that Franco was trying to have sex with you every minute of every day, and that Ollie had a smug smirk on his face constantly. 

It was unnerving, really. 

On sunday morning, your team made you aware that pictures were circulating, of two blurry figures kissing in a club in China, next to two people who looked suspiciously like Pierre and Yuki. 

It was impossible to confirm who the people kissing were so you had nothing to worry about, but your PR manager asked you to please, for the love of god, be more careful. 

The race came and went, and you and Ollie both finished in the points. 

Yuki was taking Pierre to a karaoke bar that night, and in true Yuki fashion, invited you, Ollie, and Franco. 

The little shit- stirrer. And of course you knew the idea was probably a Yuki-Pierre collaboration. 

It was a bit awkward at first, both Ollie and Franco were trying to get your attention under the table with wandering hands, but you quickly shut that down. 

You and Pierre were up. You were singing a duet version of ‘My Way’ but Pierre sang his parts in french. It was hilarious. 

Yuki jumped onto the table and joined in within seconds. 

You were so into it that you didn’t notice Ollie and Franco slip out.  

Until the song finished and you looked down to see that the leather seats were unoccupied.  

You decided to go and look for them, and it didn't take you long to find them. 

The shouting could be heard as soon as you shut the door to the private room. 

You followed the voices all the way to the men's toilets, in which the two were arguing. 

You pushed the door open and couldn't help but laugh at the sight in front of you. 

Ollie had Franco in what seemed to be an attempt at a headlock, but while one of his arms was around Franco's throat, the other was pinned under Franco's weight against the wall. 

“Oi!” you hollered at them and they immediately let each other go, attempting to straighten themselves out. 

Ollie had a swollen lip and Franco looked like he'd had an altercation with a plug socket. 

“What the fuck are you doing?!” 

“Nothing” “He started it!” “He said-“ 

“I don't care!” you shouted “get your asses back in there and behave!” 

You pointed towards the room sternly, and they quickly shuffled down the corridor with their tails between their legs. 

You managed to finish the karaoke without another incident, but you could feel the tension between them. 

The walls were closing in. It was becoming all too real to you all of a sudden. They both wanted you, and you didn’t want to choose, but you couldn’t exactly let them keep tearing each other to shreds over you. 

Shit hit the fan in Bahrain. 

They were behaving like animals. 

You couldn't speak to either of them without the other one getting jealous and pissing you off. 

Ollie didn't do FP1 because Haas had gave his car to a rookie for the session, which meant that both he and Franco were in the paddock during the session. Unsupervised. 

It came as a shock to everyone but you when they started openly brawling. 

You'd just got out of the car, and were getting weighed when you heard the commotion. 

“DON'T YOU DARE!”  

Crash. 

“MOTHERF-“ 

“YOU TWO STOP I-  OW!” 

You ran towards the two dickheads. Who were fighting in your garage. 

These two could not fight to save their lives. It was the stupidest brawl you'd ever seen. 

Your mechanics sort were hesitant to intervene, sort of standing around ready to step in as soon as there was any risk of them doing actual damage to each other. 

You didn't know who threw the first punch. You didn't care. 

The adrenaline was coursing through you so you went straight in, pushing the two struggling men down to the ground to destabilize them, then grabbed the shirt of the first one you could get your hands on. 

Which happened to be Franco. 

Someone next to you shouted “Yeah! Get your boyfriend!” 

“He is not my boyfriend, fuck off!” you shouted back. 

Your words had different effects. Franco’s heart broke a little, despite it being true, and Ollie now knew he had an undeniable chance. 

And everyone around you went “ouch” 

You dragged Franco away and threw him to the side, allowing Ollie to get back up and lunge at him. 

You blocked him, and slapped him, hard. 

You turned around and slapped Franco even harder. 

“Out of my garage, now!” you spat at them. 

They looked like they wanted to argue but you didn't even give them the chance. 

“I said, OUT!” you bellowed, and they looked at the crowd sheepishly before making their way out, in opposite directions. 

You didn't even entertain the small mass of people that were staring at you. You strutted to the back of the garage and made your way through the corridors to find a quiet place to think. 

You thought things couldn't get any worse, but of course, you quickly found out that a camera had wormed its way into the crowd and had broadcasted live the moment where you intervened and shouted at the person (who turned out to be Ted Kravitz) to ‘fuck off’. 

You were in your hotel room, looking through tweets about the footage, when a message popped up on your screen. 

“I'm sorry about earlier, can we talk?” 

It was Franco. 

“No” 

You left every subsequent message on read. 

About 10 minutes later a knock at the door interrupted you once again. 

It was probably your PR manager, coming to give you the 7th speech of the day about how “for the record, this is not what I meant when I told you to be more careful!” 

You looked through the peep hole and cursed loudly. 

It was Oliver fucking Bearman. 

You wrenched the door open. 

“What the fuck are you doing here? If anyone on my team sees you here we are both dead!” 

You dragged him inside and slammed the door shut behind him. 

“I wanted to come and explain-“ 

“No!” you whisper-yelled “There is nothing to explain! You and Franco have humiliated me, and yourselves today!” 

“But-“  

“There is no ‘but'! This shit stops now, I can't have my name dragged through the mud because you two wankstains decided it was a good idea to start fighting in my garage! Do you realise how that looks?” 

He looked at you guiltily and hung his head in shame. He looked almost small while sitting on the edge of the bed. 

“This whole thing has been a mess from the beginning! Because the truth is I like you both and I don't want to-“ 

You were interrupted by another knock at the door. 

Oh hell no. 

You stormed over to the door and wrenched it open again, revealing Franco in gray sweats and a dark hoodie. 

His attire told you everything you needed to know about his intentions right now. 

“Go away!” you hissed. “I told you I didn't want to talk” 

Franco glanced at Ollie still sitting on the bed and frowned. 

“So I am not allowed to be here but you invited him? That is not fair” 

“Oh for god's sake!” 

You dragged him inside, like you did Ollie, and motioned for him to sit on the bed. 

“You two are idiots!” You hissed. “What was that, today?” 

“We both wanted to go to your driver’s room to talk to you” 

“Yeah? And then you started fucking fighting!” 

“Because we love you!” 

“I can fucking see that, dipshit” you flicked Ollie's forehead “And thanks to you every motherfucker who watches Formula One also saw it, because you fought on live fucking television!” 

Ollie scratched the back of his neck sheepishly and Franco stared at the floor. 

And as if the universe hadn't punished you enough. Another knock rattled against the door. 

You turned around and watched in horror as your PR manager let herself in, and upon seeing the two men on the bed, stared daggers at them. 

“You two just don't know when to quit do you?” 

“I'm sorry about this, I didn't know either of them were coming they just turned up” you muttered. 

She huffed and rolled her eyes. “Well at least this all seems a bit more mature than whatever the fuck happened in the garage earlier” 

She turned to you. “I've smoothed it over for you, given that you'd just come out of the car, and according to the footage you actually stopped the fight, so you won't be getting any fines or penalties. Although I would refrain from telling any Skysports presenters to fuck off anytime soon. No matter how much they deserve it” 

She turned to the other two. “I however do not have the power to save either of you, so my guess is you will be informed by your teams of any fines you may be getting.” 

She eyed you all sadly. 

“Please sort your shit out. What you do, or do not do behind closed doors is none of my business, but please stop being idiots in public, it makes my job so much harder, and I am not paid extra.” 

The two drivers had the decency to look ashamed as they apologised to her. 

“On that note, I wish you all good night, and please don't break any furniture” 

And with that she smiled softly and left, leaving the three of you in silence. 

“You heard the woman” you sat on the chair next to the bed and crossed your arms defiantly “Let's sort it out.” 

They looked at each other helplessly and you rolled your eyes.  

“Come on, what do you want?” 

Franco piped up first. 

“I want you. All of you. I have been in love with you for months but I’ve been a coward…” 

You nodded, trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach at his confession. 

You looked at Ollie. 

“I was planning on asking you out. But I got jealous when I found out you were with Franco… and then I uhhh… kind of made it into a competition. Trying to get you to like me back before Franco had the guts to tell you.” 

You hummed, not quite knowing what to say. 

“What about you?” Franco asked. “What do you want?” 

“I uhh…” you were almost intimidated by the two men staring at you. “Well… I like you both, so… either you can learn to share, or neither of you can have me” 

They looked at each other, seemingly having a silent conversation as they glanced back and forth between you and each other. 

The fact that they seemed to be entertaining the idea of sharing you was doing funny things to your brain. 

You imagined having them both at your mercy. Then your mind wandered to all the possibilities. 

The image of them making out briefly flashed in your mind.  

The butterflies returned to your stomach and you let your mind wander even further, Franco on his knees for Ollie.  

A voice suddenly pulled you from your thoughts. 

“Are you okay?” Franco asked, and you stared at his lips. They would look so perfect wrapped around- 

“Yeah, you look a bit flustered” Ollie chuckled. “What are you thinking about?” 

You bit your lip. 

“The two of you. Together.” 

A small blush crept up their necks and they squirmed uncomfortably. 

“We can share” Franco muttered, eyes darkening slightly. 

“Good” you smiled, standing up and slowly making your way towards them. “I want you both naked in the next 15 seconds…” 

They glanced at each other with wide eyes before hurriedly taking their clothes off. 

Once they were fully bare, they looked up at you expectantly. 

You grinned and swiftly sat down in between them. 

You pulled Franco in for a kiss, hands inching their way up the two men's thighs. 

You could feel Ollie's gaze on you so you turned your head and smiled at him before leaning in to kiss him. 

One of your hands went to touch Ollie's cock, which was half hard, and your other was met with Franco's hand, that he had already wrapped around himself while watching you make out with Ollie. 

You swapped again, Ollie's cock hardening at your touch, and at the sight of Franco pushing his tongue into your mouth. 

Then Ollie's turn came again, and he was fully hard by now, so you swept your thumb over his tip to make his hips twitch. 

You then stopped touching them altogether and leaned back on your elbows on the bed. 

“Now you two” you smirked. 

They looked at each other breathlessly, blush high on their cheeks and eyes lidded. 

They were hesitant, Ollie's hand weaved its way into Franco's hair to pull him in.  

It started out chaste, but still, the sight of it was truly something. 

You wriggled out from in between them and they looked at you in question. 

“Gonna lock the door” you muttered, jogging over to it. 

You heard a muffled “good idea” and turned to see them back at it, and this time with gusto. 

Their eyes were closed, so you undressed silently and climbed back on the bed. 

Ollie gasped into the kiss when Franco's hand made its way around his cock, squeezing gently before setting a slow, almost teasing pace. 

Franco trailed kisses along his jaw, making his way down Ollie’s chest, and the latter looked at you. 

His eyebrows jumped when he saw your state of undress. And went even higher when he noticed you were touching yourself. 

But it was quickly wiped from his mind when Franco’s lips suddenly made contact with his tip. 

He gasped, head whipping down to look at where Franco was kissing up and down his length.  

One of his hands once again found itself weaved into Franco's dark locks when the absolute tease decided to lick his cock from base to tip, while staring straight up at him through his lashes. 

“Jesus” he muttered “You've done this before haven't you?” 

Franco just winked, and took his cock halfway down into his mouth and sucked. 

The two of them looked ethereal, Ollie gasping for air while Franco sucked him down as far as he could go. 

Apparently Franco was doing something with his tongue, because Ollie kept throwing his head back and hissing. 

“Fuck- I'm not going to last long if you keep doing that.” 

Franco pulled off with a pop and smirked at him, pulling him in for another sloppy makeout. 

You were sitting there, two fingers deep inside yourself, and they were completely ignoring you. 

The irony of the situation made you scoff. 

“Guys… is either of you going to fuck me or…?” 

Ollie laughed and Franco started crawling up the bed towards you. 

“It would be my pleasure” he smiled. 

Ollie stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. 

“Actually, I think you have fucked her enough, it's my turn now” 

He crawled up to you, and kissed you sweetly, pulling your hand away from your cunt and replacing it with his own. 

“God, watching us got you this excited?” 

You nodded shyly. “You two look really fucking hot together” 

He laughed, gummy smile making a brief appearance as he lined himself up, sliding his tip up and down your folds to tease you. 

“You ready?”  

“Of course” 

He slid home in one gentle thrust, and you moaned into his mouth when he leaned down to kiss you. 

Franco came to kneel next to your head and waited for you to take a breather before asking you to open your mouth for him. 

He slapped his cock against your tongue teasingly, and the wet noise caught Ollie's attention, who had been mouthing at your tits absentmindedly. 

Franco fucked you mouth in earnest, and when he noticed the pther man looking at him heatedly, leaned over to capture his lips in a bruising kiss... 

It was all over far too quickly, but the exciting novelty of the situation had gotten to them and they came together with a muffled whine. 

You then made them clean you up with their tongues, and the sight of both of their faces between your legs, taking turns lapping up your juices, just felt right. 

If they could share, and not be too obvious about it, then the rest of the season should be a breeze. 

You sent your PR manager a hefty check, with a note. 

“Thank you for putting up with our shit. It's been sorted <3” 

[rhiannonsknife]

hc of yj characters asking fem!reader out for valentines?

— VALENTINE‘S DAY WITH THE YELLOWJACKETS

— it’s february, so valentine’s day is coming up, yellowjackets s3 is coming out, and it’s my birthday month!! if you don’t have a valentine yet, consider this your invitation for us to all be each other’s! 💌

SHAUNA SHIPMAN

৻ꪆ shauna spends weeks rehearsing how she’s going to ask you out for valentine’s day. she writes and rewrites little notes, practices lines in her mirror, and almost talks herself out of it half a dozen times because she’s convinced you’ll say no or think it’s silly. even though you’ve given her zero reason to think that.

৻ꪆ she eventually settles on something lowkey but heartfelt: she spends hours preparing her attic room, decorating it with string lights, candles, and little paper hearts she cut out herself. it’s simple but so intimate, so very her. the effort shauna put in is obvious, and she hopes you see that.

৻ꪆ when you arrive, she’s practically buzzing with nerves, immediately giving herself away. she ushers you up the stairs to her room, watching your face carefully as you take in the space: on her bed, there’s a handwritten letter waiting for you, sealed with a little heart sticker. she insists you read it, standing by your side the whole time. as you read, you notice her mouthing the words. she’s memorized every line.

JACKIE TAYLOR

৻ꪆ jackie is not about to settle for a basic valentine’s day ask. i mean, it’s jackie taylor. she doesn’t do things halfway, especially not when it comes to you.

৻ꪆ while you’re in class, she sneaks out to decorate your locker with perfectly arranged hearts and ribbons (color coordinated, obviously). inside, there’s a bouquet of your favorite flowers, a handwritten note, and a coupon for ‘one valentines dinner date with jackie taylor’. she delivers the whole thing while casually leaning against the lockers, looking completely unbothered but making sure there’s an audience.

৻ꪆ jackie acts like she’s totally confident (you see right through her from the start), but the second you say yes, that fake composure cracks just a little. she’ll beam at you, maybe brush your hand, and say, “great. pick you up at 7?” on the inside, though, she’s screaming with excitement.

LOTTIE MATTHEWS

৻ꪆ lottie’s approach is definitely gentle and thoughtful!! she decides to ask you out during one of your shared moments of quiet: she invites you over to her house one evening, leading you through the back door to her spacious yard, where twinkling fairy lights are strung between the trees.

৻ꪆ you’re sitting together on a blanket, knees almost touching, when she finally brings it up: “i was thinking,” lottie starts, “i’d really like to spend valentine’s day with you. just us. would that be okay?” shes holding your hands with both of hers, glancing up at you from under her lashes hopefully.

৻ꪆ when you agree, lottie’s face lights up with the softest, happiest smile, the kind that makes her eyes crinkle at the corners. “i was hoping you’d say yes,” she admits, squeezing your hand before bringing it to her lips for a soft kiss. the rest of the night is spent planning your actual valentine’s date together: nothing too over the top, just something that feels right for the two of you.

NAT SCATORCCIO

৻ꪆ out of all the yellowjackets, nat is the least concerned with valentine’s day…at least, that’s what she tells herself. if it weren’t for you, she wouldn’t even think twice about it. but because it’s you, she finds herself secretly stressing over how to ask you out. she wants to do this right. nat spends way too much time trying to come up with the least awkward way to do it, all while telling herself she doesn’t actually care that much. (she totally does)

৻ꪆ after practice, nat catches you outside the locker rooms, leaning against the wall with her hands awkwardly hidden behind her back. “hey,” she says, trying to sound casual. “you doing anything for valentine’s? no? cool. cool, cool, cool. uh- wanna hang out with me? maybe?” it’s simple, direct, and couldn’t be any more nat until she pulls out a slightly crumpled bouquet of roses when you say yes.

৻ꪆ the gesture is so unexpectedly sweet coming from her that you can’t help but grin. before she can fully recover, you lean in and press a quick kiss to her cheek, and nat lets out a breath she didn’t even realize she was holding. she stands there for a moment, stunned, before a slow, lopsided smile spreads across her face. “yeah…okay,” she murmurs.

[emsdevs]

Luke Hughes requests reader is doing the TikTok trend where she ask Luke and Jack questions about her to see who knows her better but pretends that Jack get all the answers right and Luke gets them wrong and his reaction Jack also knows what the reader is up to please

Know Me Better

a/n: i had way way wayyy too much fun with this one! nonnie you're a genius!! sorry for the wait but i hope it was worth it!! fair warning this is mostly dialogue!

masterlist | NHL Masterlists | Luke Hughes Masterlist

It took you days to talk both boys into doing a TikTok with you. Jack was completely against it until you told him you planned to prank Luke, and then he was game. Luke was much easier to convince after you had Jack’s help.

About a week ago, you were doing your nightly TikTok scroll when you came across a video of a girl pranking her boyfriend. She had gotten him and his best friend to answer questions she was asking about herself. However, she was pretending that whatever the best friend said was right and her boyfriend was wrong. The best friend was obviously in on it, and it took the boyfriend way too long to catch on. As soon as the video ended, you knew you needed to try the video with Luke and Jack. 

Now, the two brothers sat at their kitchen table, you standing behind them with your list of questions at the ready. You prop your phone up and press record. 

“Okay, guys, so I have this list of questions about myself, and I’m gonna make my boyfriend and his brother,” you point at Luke and Jack respectively, “and by the end, we’ll see who knows me better. You guys ready?”

“So ready, babe.”

“Yeah, let’s go.” “Okay! First question is easy. What is my favorite color?”

“Oh! Easy it’s purple!” Luke is the first to answer.

“No bro it’s green,” Jack says smoothly.

“Jack got it right! Good job!”

“Babe, no. Your favorite color is purple. It’s always been purple,” Luke is confused, his brows furrowed.

“No, hun, I changed it a few weeks ago remember? We talked about it with Jack.”

“Whatever,” he gives up, not wanting to argue while doing something you were so excited for.

“Okay, next question! What is my favorite flower?” “Oh! Marigolds!” Jack jumps in first this time.

“Um, no. It’s lilies.”

“Actually, Lukey, Jack is right! How did you even know that?” “Heard you guys talking about it last week,” Jack shrugs, knowing that’s not what he heard you say your favorite flower was.

“You mean when I got her lilies, and she was so happy because lilies are her favorites? So she told me that lilies were her favorites ten times?” Luke was beginning to get frustrated, narrowing his eyes at his brother. He knows for a fact that lilies are your favorite flowers, so he doesn’t know where Jack is pulling his information from or why you’re agreeing with everything Jack says. Then again, what if Jack is right? Is Luke a bad boyfriend?

“Anyway! Next! What color were my nails two weeks ago?”

“Light blue!” Jack speaks up again. He had no idea what color your nails were. He was guessing random stuff at this point.

“They were dark red, kinda a maroon color, and your ring fingers had a tiny white heart on them,” Luke knows there’s no way he was getting this one wrong. He had gone to your nail appointment with you, content to sit and mess around on his phone while you got your nails done. 

“Wow, Luke, that’s impressive detail, but Jack was right.”

“What?” he was borderline shouting, not really angry, just offended. He knew he was right, but what if he wasn’t? Either way, how was Jack getting every question right? “Babe, I know for a fact that’s what you got. I bought them. At the salon. I was there. I paid. Right in front of you.”

“No, baby, that was the set before the blue ones,” you force yourself to ignore the pout that now sits on your boyfriend’s face, “Okay, next up! What’s my go-to karaoke song?”

“Oh! It’s ‘Black’ by Dierks Bentley!”

“No, dude. It’s ‘Dancing Queen’ from that one Meryl Streep movie,” Jack had seen you sing that song once at karaoke, and it was after you sang “Black.”

“Oh, my god! Jack got it right, again!”

“No, babe. We sing ‘Black’ together,” Luke was giving you puppy dog eyes now, and you’re not sure how long you can keep this up.

Jack steps in to save you from answering again, “Yeah, bro, but she said her go-to karaoke song. That one is for both of you.”

“Whatever. How many more questions are there?” His pout is intensifying, and you can tell if you keep this up much longer, he’ll walk out. You decide to make the next question a little more obvious, something only Luke would know.

“Okay, Lukey, you should get this one. What did I eat on our first date?”

“Chicken alfredo,” Luke answers without even having to think about it. He remembers every detail of that night. 

“Nah, she had a plate of shrimp.” You don’t eat shrimp. Jack knows this. Luke knows this. That’s when it all sets in for Luke.

“Are you two kidding me?” he shrieks standing up, giggles coming out of his open mouth. “You’ve been messing with me this whole time?”

“Yes, Lukey,” you’re cracking up. You can’t help it, “You got every question right.”

“I knew it! You two had me freaking out thinking I was a bad boyfriend or something!”

“Sorry, man. She put me up to it,” Jack could barely talk through his laughter, but he still managed to throw you under the bus.

“Jerk!” Jack continued laughing as he walked away. You stopped the video, laughter still taking over you and Luke, “I’m sorry. I saw a video like that and thought it would be funny,” you smile at your boyfriend sheepishly.

“Yeah, real funny,” he rolls his eyes before grabbing your waist and throwing you over his shoulder.

You’re overcome with giggles yet again, “Where are you taking me?”

“To bed! We’re watching Secretariat, so you can make this up to me! And your hand better be in my hair the whole time!”

taglist: @heartsforjh @alex-wotton @devilinpradaheels @juxmi @macklin-celebrini-71 @puckmedude @alexxavicry @dancerbailey3 @madebyhappymeals @beenucks @

join the taglist

[billericious]

starry-eyed lover, the one that you saw | b.e

collateral - pt 1

The brightness of your screen illuminates your face, highlighting the tears that stream down your cheek. Breath caught in your throat as you read the notification. 

Billie Hey

You didn’t know what to do next. Would you seem desperate if you answered immediately? The last thing you wanted her to know was that you yearned for missed her, despite being the one that had ended what you guys had. This is what you wanted, what you prayed for. Why do you feel so conflicted now that you have it? 

This is real. She texted you, and you’re not dreaming. She contacted you, as if she was some sort of manifestation after a night of thinking of her. Could she still feel you, feel your emotions like they were her own? Have you been clouding her mental like she was clouding yours? So many questions to ask, and now you have the chance to do so. You click on the notification, opening up the message. Your finger shook as you carefully typed a response, scared that you would mess up something so simple.

Y/N Hey  Read 4:37 AM

Tears brimmed your eyes as she opened your message immediately. Anxiety bubbled in your stomach, awaiting a response. You shut your phone off in an attempt to soothe yourself, mind wandering as you do so.

“Hello?” you answer the phone. You hear Billie's voice on the other end. “Do you ever answer texts, baby?” your heart flutters at the pet name as you pull the device away from your ear and check your notifications, seeing multiple messages from ‘Billie :p’. “Whoops?” she laughs at your response, rubbing her eyes “you’re lucky i love you y/n, but back to why i called. What do you want snack wise for our movie night?”  

You smile, remembering the mini date night you had planned with her. “Nothing in particular…but y’know, if they just happen to have zombie takiss” you respond, exaggerating the ‘s’. “Oh well of course, can't go an october without having them at least once."

She was you in another body, a perfect match. “Well hurry bils, I miss you.”

“Just gotta check out, then I'll be heading home to you, love.” you both say I love you and end the call. There's a comforting warmth in your stomach that fights with the never ending dread. The dread of knowing she isn’t really yours, and you aren’t really hers. 

You’re brought back from the memory with the vibration of your phone. A text back.

Billie  I’ve been meaning to reach out, are you busy? If not, would you mind calling?

Your head spins at her message. For the first time in months, you would finally be having a real conversation with Billie. Were you even ready? You don't give yourself much time to answer your own thoughts as your body goes into autopilot, clicking on the small Call button on the top of the screen.

Ring

The reality of the situation hits you all at once, holding your breath as the phone continues

Ring

Was she messing with you? Would she even answer?

Ring

“Hey.” you feel your heart skip a few beats as her smooth voice greets you on the other end of the call. You finally let out the breath you had been holding, feeling lightheaded in the process. “Hey, Billie.” A silence falls over the call, obvious that the both of you had no idea what to say next.

“Why’d you wanna call?” a sudden confidence washes over you, motivated to understand why now. “In all honesty, I don’t know. I guess I just wanted to check in on you. To hear your voice.” she mumbles the last sentence, slightly hoping you didn’t hear her correctly. But you did, of course you did. Anxiety so high, hyper focused on everything she was saying.

“I’m doing…” you falter for a second, do you tell the truth or lie to save yourself from any embarrassment? You decide the latter would be a safer choice. “I’m doing okay, Billie. How are you? I’ve seen you, your promotions for the album.” Billie lets out a soft laugh at that, a rosy hue painted on her cheeks. She had completely forgotten who she was as soon as she picked up the phone. Too distracted by you to remember or focus on anything else around her.

“I’m uh, I'm good too.” it’s your turn to laugh, wet eyelashes laying on your cheeks as you close your eyes. “Good, I’m glad. You deserve it, I'm sure you’ve been working hard.” you say, trying to figure her out without trying to seem pushy. “Yeah, it’s been a lot. It’s different without you, though”

“Am i that ever lasting, Billie?” you say playfully, speaking to her never felt foreign despite it all. Immediately falling back into the groove you left on, before the argument. For a second, you almost forget why you had wanted her to leave in the first place. “God, you know you are.” she teases you slightly as you get flustered at her words. She continues, “I’m gonna be going on my press tour soon, and i just wanted to see you before I left. If that's possible, of course.”

You know you shouldn’t. You know that you would fall back into her immediately, sacrificing the little amount of healing you had made during the time of no contact. Your heart betrays your rational thinking, “Yeah, that’d be nice. It’d be nice to see you.” 

“Okay. I’ll plan, and I’ll text you the info, yeah?” “Yeah Billie, that sounds good.”

“I’ll talk to you soon, alright? I gotta go. Bye, y/n.” you wait a few seconds, waiting for the ‘I love you’ before remembering, it’s not like how it used to be. You quickly muster up your own response.

“Okay, bye Billie.” the disconnect sound echoes soon after. You look at her contact,

a smile creeping onto your face. You're not exactly happy, but not sad. Just shocked that this is finally happening. You don’t know what to anticipate. All you could do was hope for the best, even though you didn’t even know what the best is. A notification pops up at the top of your screen.

Billie Saturday @ 3. Cafe lunch. I’ll pick you up

Just hope for the best.

౨ৎ maze speaks !

im so sorry for the wait guis :< this is whack and filler, dont be too harsh pls im still getting the hang of this :p but seriously, thank you for all the motion on collateral my loverlies<3

tags: @luvforbills

౨ৎ౨ৎ౨ৎ౨ৎ send an ask ! always open<3

[k1ng-ej]

Can you dooooo

Reader coming on there cycle in bed and the slasher thinks there bleeding out or smtn until they explain it to them?

Allll fluff, you could do headcanons or a specific slasher if you want

Slashers reaction to you starting your period

(Michael, Thomas, Vincent)

Note: excuse this if this a little sloppy, i planned on doing a few other slashers but then i didnt feel like it lol. mental exhaustion is real! anyway, i hope you enjoy <33

Michael

It was a rare night where Michael was sleeping in your bed, he usually doesn't sleep at all or chooses to sleep in the guest room or on the couch in the living room. You don't know why he did that, but you never forced him to come and sleep in your bed, not wanting to overstep boundaries. Michael is a complicated man to understand, and you don't want to push his buttons too much.

You nestled against him, your head comfortably resting on his chest as you basked in the warmth he emanated. You appreciated these rare moments with Michael, especially because he kept you warm on the coldest nights. After what seemed like an eternity of tossing and turning, you finally climbed out of bed, intending to get a glass of water. Just then, you heard the sound of Michael shifting, turning to face you.

"I'll be right back." You smiled, taking a moment to admire his mask-less face. From where you stood, he looked like just a normal man, his brown curls that laid perfectly on his forehead, the slightest dark bags under his mismatched eyes, and the way he laid in your bed, he didn't look like a man who has tormented your small hometown known as Hadonfield.

Just as you were about to turn around, a strong hand seized your wrist. When you looked back, you saw Michael propped up in bed, staring at you intently. His expression remained blank, but there was purpose in his movements. He drew you closer, lifting your shirt as if searching for something specific. When he couldn't find what he sought, he gently tugged at your shorts.

"What are you doing?" You questioned with a confused chuckle, looking down at yourself. Michael grabbed the bottom of your shorts and pulled them so you could see. You had apparently started your period, you completely forgot to keep an eye for that this week.

"Oh." You figured that was what Michael was looking for, the source of the blood that now stained your favorite pajama shorts.

Michael looked to you, and tilted his head. You figured he was probably never educated about this subject, you wondered how you would explain it to him.

"It's my period, I get it every month. It's normal so there's nothing to worry about." You explained carefully. "I mean, the only thing you'd have to worry about would be my mood swings." You joked with a giggle. Michael only blinked at you, you didn't know if he understood, maybe he didn't care.

Then, he gave you a subtle nod, one you almost missed if you hadn't been staring at him. You assumed he got what you said, so you left it at that.

Thomas

Thomas shook you awake in the middle of the night, his concern evident. Groggy and disoriented, you sat up and rubbed your eyes, mumbling some indistinct words of annoyance.

"What's wrong, Tommy?" You asked as you shivered, noticing how cold it suddenly was. Oh, the blanket had been pulled off.

Thomas pointed to your legs, and you noticed a small blood stain underneath of you. You quickly realized that as your period. Thomas appeared slightly unsettled, leading you to wonder if Luda Mae had ever discussed periods with him. Before you could clarify, he began examining your body for any signs of injury, which made you chuckle. You found his concern adorable.

"Thomas, i'm okay. It's just my period, it's something that females get every month. it's nothing bad." You clarified, a faint smile resting on your lips. Thomas stopped checking your body, giving you a confused look.

"I promise. It doesn't even hurt me. Well… kind of but it's not that serious." You hoped you weren't making Thomas more confused than he already was, but when he stopped furrowing his brows you assumed he understood what you were explaining to him. YA sigh escaped your lips as the reality set in: you needed to change out of your stained pajamas and replace the bedsheet. You longed to have slept in and postponed this chore until morning, yet you couldn't fault Thomas for his concern about your wellbeing. He prepared a swift shower for you to freshen up while he took care of the bedding. Once the chores were done, he made sure you had a restful night, holding you tightly against his chest until the early hours of dawn.

Vincent

You went to bed after Vincent mentioned he would be up a little later, immersed in his work on wax sculptures. This was a frequent situation, even though you often encouraged him to join you, insisting that he needed and deserved the rest. While you wholeheartedly supported Vincent in his pursuits, it always troubled you when he sacrificed sleep for his art.

You had woken up to the sound of shuffling, probably Vincent finally coming to bed. You didn't know what time it was, but you couldn't even be bothered to open your eyes to check. You felt a gentle nudge, Vincent's way of telling you to scoot over so he could get into bed as well. You grumbled before eventually scooting to the other side of the bed, you waited to feel the bed dip, indicating he laid down. But it never came.

Instead, Vincent was shaking you awake, it seemed urgent.

"Hm? Is something wrong Vinc?" You mumbled into the pillow, looking at him through an eye. In the dark, you could barely make out him signing to you.

"What?" You finally moved your face to fully look at him, worried by his seemingly panicked signing.

'You're bleeding. What happened?'

"I'm bleeding? What do you mean?" You furrowed your brows, unsure of what he was talking about. You hadn't been around any sharp objects recently, and you didn't have any old wounds that could be reopened. Vincent then gestured to the bed, you sat up and realized what happened. Where you laid previously had a blood stain on the sheets, you already knew your pants would be stained too.

"Awh… I got my period." You frowned, huffing from your nose. Your least favorite time of the month. You felt bad for staining Vincent's sheets, making a mental promise to yourself that you'd get it out tomorrow morning.

'Period?' He signed, tilting his head. He still seemed worried about you, you could see it in his body language by the way he leaned toward you and slightly reached his hands out to you. You knew he wanted to check you for any wounds, something he did quite often because you were very clumsy and often got scrapes and cuts, which he would patch up for you.

"Yeah, yeah. It's just something girls get every month. I get cramps and whatnot. Sorry for staining your sheets."

'Cramps? Anything else?'

"Uhhh, food cravings, mood swings." You shrugged, starting to scooch off the bed. Vincent took your hand and helped you up, then started leading you toward the bathroom. "Where are we going?"

He didn't respond as he released your hand and knelt beside the bathtub, turning on the water and testing its warmth with his fingers. You had always known Vincent to be thoughtful, consistently showing you kindness and tenderness. However, you never anticipated him starting a bath for you in the middle of the night.

"Oh, Vincent, you didn't have to." You smiled warmly at the gesture, feeling grateful to have a significant other like him.

[jscrawls]

Widows rest

My take on a Black widow! Reader x Batman and Batfam but with a slight twist, reader doesn't know the Bats but they seem to know them...

Warning: contains avengers infinity war spoilers, black widow spoilers, brief mentions of violence, hospitals, poor writing, possible ooc,

Part 8: happy home

🔹🔹🔹

You're officially going ‘home’ today, the doctors have decided that you're well enough to get the boot. It's a little strange to think about, as much as you hate this place it's also the only point of this world you actually know. You have no other base here, no aliases, no hidden safehouse, no Natalia, just you and some strangers. There's been a tension in your shoulders all day, thankfully no one's commented on it yet.

“Are you ready mx Wayne? I've prepared one of the more subtle cars today.” The older man comments respectfully, he's tall, thin, almost haggardly so. yet he carries himself like a military general. Mr pennyworth is an odd one for sure, he eyes the clothes he brought you critically, like he's nitpicking the minute details of you while speaking in respectful deference. It's almost amusing.

“One of the - do you think we'll be attacked or something.” Your tone is flat, yet your words are meant in jest. Though you are curious just how much your husband wastes on cars if there's a selection to pick from.

“If the paparazzi got a sniff of you, then yeah. Might as well count as an attack.” The tall kid mutters as he grabs your bag off the bed, you should probably start calling him Jason instead of the tall one, but eh.

You briefly eye the bag, the only things of ‘yours’ in it is your phone, your medication, and the syringe you managed to keep all this time. You'd tucked that under a layer when you were changing out of the stupid hospital clothes in the bathroom.

“…why would they care about someone leaving a hospital? Isn't Bruce the famous one of the two of us?” The thought annoys and baffles you, most of your experience with press was them accusing you of various assassinations and demanding you be locked away so you're not exactly too keen to run into issue here.

“Mx Wayne, you are a minor celebrity, whether you remember it or not. Being ‘just the spouse’ doesn't mean you're completely hidden in Bruce's shadow.” Mr pennyworth says firmly, his posture straightening slightly, his chin tilting up, he's trying to be firm, He clearly wants to get the message through you.

“…alright, point taken. Shall we?” You start towards the door to your room, both relieved and pissed to leave this place.

“Ahem, are you forgetting doctor's orders?” The tall one- Jason grabs the handles of your wheelchair in the corner, in that moment you want to grab it and throw it off the rooftop.

🔹🔹🔹

You slide the sunglasses a little higher up your nose as you approach the doors, Jason pushing your chair and holding your bag on his arm while Alfred walks in front of you both towards the back exit. Your thoughts drifting towards the next steps, planning your next move…. But why? what exactly are you doing? Playing pretend out of habit, no real mission here. No loyalty or fealty to uphold. No goal in mind. It's a strange train in thought to hit you right as your bathing wheeled out the door by your supposed kid.

You nearly swing an elbow when something is suddenly shoved in your face, a microphone hitting your chin while Jason curses loudly behind you and body blocks the reporter, the duo had been hiding in the bushes like a couple of wild animals.

“Mx Wayne! A word! A word please!” The dark haired woman persists, flailing around Jason while shouting at you, waving her microphone like she's wielding a weapon. “Any comment on your hospital stay? What did you think of your attackers trial? Are the rumors true that you're splitting from Mr Wayne due to your injuries?”

“No comment, don't you people have anyone else to harass?” Jason barks at them, now it's clear to you why he insisted on coming today, he's practically a shield with his stature.

The cameraman tries to slip past Jason, practically kicking at him as he tries to get a close-up of your face. Alfred all but shoves past him as he quickly takes over Jason's job of pushing your chair, grumbling quietly so only you can hear him.

“dear Lord above, no manners these days…”

You're tense, even that small interaction has you feeling put off and unsettled, you're secretive by nature, feeling at odds with yourself already, and now someone's trying to plaster your face on a channel or magazine? Treating you like the press treats Stark? It feels like your skin is crawling, a deeply unsettled feeling nestles in your stomach as you're quickly helped into a car.

🔹🔹🔹

You stare up at the mansion with a neutral expression as you drive up to it, well as the butler drives. Him and Jason have been discussing your physical therapy schedule for a few minutes now while you quietly stare up the long driveway, something about attending every week and needing shots every few days, you really should pay more attention. Gather Intel while you can, yet you're more focused on your newfound freedom.

…Though with the way this place is built, you're still not so free. The manor could pass for a sanitarium, large gates surround the property and you think you can see evidence of security cameras on key points, you agreed to come to this place for appearance sake, but now you kinda wish you'd demanded your own apartment instead. Something private where you wouldn't be locked in a house full of strangers calling you their parent.

“…do you recall anything about this place? Anything…reminding you of anything or…” the butler questions you when he notices your focus elsewhere, Jason glances from the passenger seat back at you with what you can only call a hopeful look in his eyes.

You shake your head slowly, watching as you wheel closer to your next lock-in. “No…nothing at all…tell me a little about it?” Your response is automatic, tone shifting to curiosity and meekness as you meet their stares, though inside you feel hollow as the car parks.

🔹🔹🔹

“-and this is one of your favorite rooms, the library.” Alfred gestures broadly as he opens the double doors, just like with every other room he's shown you.

“Alright…”

You step inside with Jason grabbing your arm like you'll fall on your face, and take it in, the room could pass as part of a public library. It smells musty and old, aging paper and real leather furniture apparent, you walk towards a random shelf and slowly trail your fingers across the spines as you read the titles, Austen, Dickens, Hemingway, Woolf, brontë, the Wayne's are big collectors of the classics it seems.

You glance over your shoulder, catching Jason settling on an armchair with a book in hand, Alfred stands at the door and just…watches you. The old fellow is quite observant you've noticed.

“Something wrong, Mr pennyworth?” your voice is gentle, watching him as closely as he watches you. He shifts just slightly, expression not changing even as Jason looks up from his book to watch.

“Not at all, master Wayne. Are you feeling up for more of the tour? There's still the sitting rooms and the sleeping areas, oh, and the cellars. Silly me.” He's equally gentle, yet you get the feeling this is suddenly a game of some sort. Something telling you to keep a lid on around him.

You fully turn to face him, hand dropping back at your side. “I'm surprisingly tired, to be frank. As little as I've done today…” you don't need to put on an act for that, you're actually exhausted, have been since the paparazzi incident as you left the hospital.

It's silent for a beat, Jason looks between the two of you with a confused furrow on his brow. You and the butler staring at each other like this is a game of cat and mouse. Finally the butler speaks.

“Yes that would happen, being hospitalized for as long as you were can have…. Strange effects on one. Come along if you're able.” He turns on his heel and leaves without waiting to see if you'll follow.

Your brow furrows just a second as you walk after him, was he implying something?

🔹🔹🔹

A/n: we're finally out of the hospital! It only took *checks notes* eight chapters. Lol the interactions are gonna be a lot more interesting now hopefully 😉

Taglist: @cxcilla @mercuryathens @dind1n @redsakura101 @ninihrtss @let-me-dance @ladykamos @one-piecelover @cuntiesweet

[nightwingsgypsyrep]

Ok so I’ve been umming and ahhing about making this post for a while. I’ve always kinda planned on it, but seeing these tags on a previous post of mine (no hate to this user) made me want to post something now. It’s also gone 3am. So it’s not really going to be very clean and tidy, and will probably be a bit rambling, but I can always post a ‘tidy’ version another time.

So! Tackling Dick Grayson’s Romani/GRTSB heritage (warning: it’s a long one)

So, as usual, a few disclaimers: 1) I am not American. 2) I myself fall under the GRTSB umbrella - for clarity, I am from the fairground/circus so a Showman, but my family were simply ‘gypsies’ before getting involved in that in the Victorian period, so I use gypsy/traveller/Showman for myself. I also speak Romani and grew up in the culture and on the grounds. I’m not just talking out of my arse, I promise. 3) I do not pretend to have read every comic. However, this post will be based in things which DC have published (yeah I know it gets retconned every two minutes but hey, I’m working with it), even if some of it is more speculative/Headcanony, it will all be canon-compliant/what makes sense based on my own experiences. 4) That being said, everyone who does in some way fall under the GRTSB acronym will have different experiences and opinions, and all are equally valid and should be respected. 5) I use the term ‘gypsy’ a lot. Where I am from, it is not a slur, but is used almost a catch-all phrase for GRTSB people, by us. We also see Dick use it so I’m going to. I personally don’t mind if people use it (so long as they don’t use it as an insult) but not everyone will feel that way, so it’s always better to ask individuals. 6) this post is intended as a fun exploration of a character whom I relate to based on our shared heritage (when it’s really rare to find characters like that). I’m not trying to dictate to you how you should interpret Dick’s character. You’re welcome to different opinions and interpretations - this is just one of mine! :)

So, first, what is GRTSB? Well, it’s an acronym which covers all aspects of the gypsy/traveller umbrella. It is used in British legislation. It stands for Gypsy Romani Traveller Showman (aka fairground and circus) Boater. Under British legislation, only the first three (Gypsies, Romani, and Travellers) are considered an ethnic identity, whilst Showmen and Boaters are considered a cultural identity.

This is absolutely FULL of problems and has been hotly debated for years, with different people identifying in different ways. People who share the same/very similar ethnic heritage (i.e. siblings, or cousins) can have completely different points of view on what they identify as. As such, don’t take it as gospel - it’s more of a guideline than anything. Especially since a) these groups often intermarry, meaning that someone can be multiple at once; b) if a Showman stops travelling with the fair and settles, they don’t become a non-traveller, because it’s in your blood, not just a job; c) people can trace their heritage back past a particular group - e.g. my own family (circus and fairgrounds aka Showmen) can be traced back to at least the 1600s, before fairs were really a thing - at the time, they simply identified as gypsies. They didn’t stop being gypsies just because they changed their job/founded a circus/fairground. As such, many in my family identify primarily as a gypsy or traveller, and a Showman secondarily, whilst others do the opposite, or identify as just a Showman or just a traveller/gypsy. Like I say, this classification is not perfect, and is hotly debated, especially at the present time.

So, now, onto the subject of Dick Grayson. I included the tags above mostly because of the ‘tell me you don’t know a character without telling me you don’t know a character’, because, firstly, rude. secondly, the poster makes reference to the Golden Age. And yeah, obviously DC aren’t going to make reference to Dick being a gypsy in the Golden Age - do you really expect writers in the 40s to care enough about the nuances of a character’s ethnic heritage, especially a gypsy, at a time when it was still common even in countries like England (where legal segregation wasn’t a thing) to have signs on pubs like ‘no blacks, no Irish, no dogs, no gypsies’ - btw we still get those occasionally? However, if we look at the comics which have been published in the eighty five years since Dick’s debut, we see a lot of references to Dick having Romani/GRTSB heritage. Again, I’m not well read, but in Grayson’s run, at least, we do see Dick speaking Romani and self-identifying as a gypsy (Nightwing #91 btw). So I’m sorry but it is definitely canon that Dick has at least some Romani heritage (since Romani, by culture, is not taught to non-travellers on purpose, and is thus only passed down from parent to child. Hell, even some of my cousins who are half gypsy - Diddakois - don’t know the language!), and the fact that he speaks it and IDs as a gypsy does suggest that this is something important to him and his character. I know that being a gypsy is certainly a big thing to me (with how the world treats us, you have to be proud of it and have it be important to you to make it worth it).

So now we come onto the second part of my rant: wtf is going on with Haly’s Circus.

So, an important bit of context is, what makes a gypsy a gypsy? And the answer to that, in my opinion, is a mix between culture and blood. You can’t be a gypsy (unless in circumstances like adoption) unless you have both. What I mean by that is, if you’ve got one gypsy great great great grandparent, but weren’t bought up with the culture and morals, you have gypsy heritage but are not a gypsy. However, if you are a gypsy and you decide to settle down in a house, work in an office, and never speak Romani again, you are still a gypsy. Similarly, if you suddenly decide to take on the gypsy lifestyle (maybe work on the fairgrounds or in the circus, or go travelling like the New Age lot), you are not a gypsy, because it’s not in your blood - hence why it’s an ethnicity, not a cultural thing really. As such, it is common for there to be a us vs them mentality even with those working on the ground - you have the gypsy/traveller/Showman who tends to own/run things, and then you have hired non-GRTSB staff (traditionally called chaps, but this has fell out of fashion in recent years).

Now, I make this distinction because Haly’s Circus is really odd in that regard.

Most gypsy (or Showmen - like I say, it can be both at the same time) ran circuses and fairs tend to be family affairs. For example, it might be John Doe’s Circus on the tin, but the Smith family (which Mr Doe’s sister married into) will often work with and alongside the Does in the running and operating of the events. Largely, this is on an ownership level, with various relations then owning the surrounding supporting elements (e.g. sideshows, fairground rides and joints, food kiosks). Other family members might then help ‘mind’ the stuff, or you can hire non-GRTSB staff to help.

Now to draw on my own family history: historically, in the Victorian period, etc, it was common for the gypsy family who owned the circus to also perform in it. For example, in my grandfather’s circus, my grandmother was a lion tamer and equestrian performer in parades. They did also hire non-traveller performers, but there wasn’t such a distinct line. However, by the 30s approximately, this had changed to be a more managerial role, with it being more common to have purely hired performers in the main event. The exception here was for sideshows and fairground rides - it is still common today for these to be ran/worked by GRTSB people (e.g. my grandmother did the dookering - fortune telling - and my grandfather did the boxing; today, we still run and operate the rides and kiosks).

However, we know that Haly’s circus was not like that. We honestly don’t know if Haly was a gypsy or not. Also, usually, gypsies have such big families and are surrounded by them, but we know that the Graysons died with no living family (no William Cobb does not count here) and had no relation to anyone at Haly’s. I suppose if you want a canon answer, you could point to how Haly’s was used by the Court of Owls, but it could just be Like That. This is unusual but not unheard of, but still worth pointing out I think. Alternatively, it could originate from one of the non-GRTSB started circuses which were popular around the turn of the 20th century. Since being a gypsy is really tied to your family name and, ethnically, means you have to be born into it - you can’t just start a fair and claim to be one-, even 120 years later, these families are still met with scepticism - they could marry into a 100% gypsy family in 1901, and have all of their descendants do the same, and still the older generation would look at their surname and scoff and say they’re not a real traveller because that one great grandfather 100 years ago was not a born-and-bred traveller. But honestly, I think 100 years is enough to integrate. So, to summarise, Haly’s circus is quite unusual in that it does not appear to be operated by only gypsies/Showmen, even if it still common for circuses not to be performed in by just gypsies.

Now, to answer, how Romani is Dick Grayson?

Like I say, canon does explicitly tell us that he has Romani heritage, placing him firmly within that second category of the GRTSB acronym (and he also identifies with the more general Gypsy identity). However, it’s frankly unlikely that the writers really went in depth with the whole GRTSB thing, so I think we can tentatively suggest that he might have also identified (keyword here being ‘might’ - this is more canon-compliant HC here y’all) as a Showman (called a Carney in the US) because the whole deal with being a Showman is the circus/fairground aspect (but, like I say, it is still a ‘gypsy’ identity as you must be born a Showman, you can’t just sign up, because it is based on a mutual gypsy heritage which predates fairgrounds/circuses, which means it still fits into what we know of Dick in canon. As such, Dick being a Showman is hardly canon, but it is 100% compliant with what we know of Dick in canon). As I’ve said, they are not mutually exclusive. He could ID as both or either, or just prefer the all-encompassing ‘gypsy’.

Now, we also know that Dick is not 100% gypsy (but tbh who is nowadays? I have two non-gypsy great-great grandfathers). Although Dick’s family history is limited, we know that his great grandfather William Cobb was likely not a gypsy (he could be ethnically, it’s not ruled out, he might have just settled, but let’s go for safety’s sake here and just say he’s not). Similarly, his partner was from a wealthy non-gypsy family, meaning that ethnically, their baby (John Grayson’s father) was likely not a gypsy (though could potentially have been a Diddakoi aka a half-gypsy, if we believe William Cobb to be a settled gypsy). However, since this baby still grew up amongst the circus, it is not impossible that he ended up marrying a gypsy, which would make John Grayson half gypsy - aka a Diddakoi. In fact, I would argue that it is even likely, owing to the fact that Dick speaks Romani, and the fact that Romani is only taught to other members of the family, meaning that somewhere in the Grayson family, a Romani speaker had to be introduced. Mary Grayson (formerly Lloyd), on the other hand, probably was Romani/GRTSB herself. I say this, based mostly on her closeness with the OG Richard aka Raptor from Seeley’s run, who was Romani, and the fact that it is really common in gypsy circles to mostly mix with other gypsies, meaning that it would make sense for the pair to meet based on the fact that they were both gypsies/Romani. Therefore, I would argue that even if Dick is not wholly Romani/gypsy ethnically (but, like I say, who is nowadays?), I think there is enough both blood and culturally to make a pretty good case for him IDing as such, and foregoing the need to make any distinction. (Also, especially nowadays when Diddakois are increasingly more common, it’s not even that prejudiced to be a Diddakoi. A lot of my cousins are and you don’t even think to mention it). Aka. He’s a gypsy. Nuff said.

Then, I suppose, the final thing I’ll address is the ‘whitewashing’ issue, or, what I really think is a non-issue.

Sure, a lot of ethnically Romani people are dark skinned. There is a reason why the term gypsy exists. Now, as my grandad will tell you, gypsies originated from Northern India about 2000 years ago, before moving into Europe. However, a lot can happen in 2000 years. There are a lot of people in the UK, at least, who identify as purely Romani who have very pale skin. My family has a real split: my dad’s side of the family is quite dark, and are often mistaken for being South Asian in the summer due to how dark they get when they tan. Meanwhile, he refers to my mother’s side of the family as being ‘poxy and pasty’. My mother is a full-blooded traveller btw, same as my dad (barring their singular non-gypsy great grandad they each had). You just can’t paint everybody with the same brush. Take me for example: I am pale af and take after my mum’s side of the family, but I’ve still got the stereotypical dark curly hair and blue eyes of gypsies (which my boy also shares). Genetics are weird. So whilst I am a big fan of dark skinned Romani Dick Grayson, it’s also still ok and accurate for him to be paler. This does not make him any less Romani. (Like I say, this is all based on my experiences in the UK).

SOOO… TLDR:

Dick definitely has Romani heritage. This has been canon for decades and cannot be taken away from him.

He canonically self-IDs as a ‘gypsy’ (as well as the Romani heritage), and may also be interpreted as being a Showman (even if this is more of a European term) if you want to see him that way, especially since a lot of Showman families (mine included) can trace their families back past the origin of the fairground to when they simply identified as gypsies or Romani (hence why Dick might ID as a gypsy with Romani heritage. Honestly, this is mostly in the realm of canon-compliant Headcanon now)

The GRTSB classification system is a mess y’all and everyone has a different opinion. Just roll with it and don’t get into the debates is my professional opinion.

Being Romani/a gypsy/a traveller/a Showman is something you are born into. You can’t just become one, or stop being one. So, if we presume that William Cobb had no Romani heritage/was not a settled-down Gypsy, even after he joined Haly’s he did not become one. It really is in your blood, and is tied to family.

Haly’s circus is unusual because it’s mostly not a family affair (though points for the Graysons sticking with it and inheriting their roles - that is realistic!). It’s unclear how many of the members of the circus are Romani.

Dick also has non-traveller heritage due to the William Cobb thing. His grandfather, at least, was probably not ethnically Romani (though he might have been half if we want to view William Cobb as having Romani heritage/being a settled gypsy). However, since Dick canonically has Romani heritage, IDs as a gypsy, and speaks Romani (a language which is closely guarded amongst gypsies), it had to come in somewhere. Honestly, I think we can comfortably view him as being at least 3/4 ethnically Romani/a Gypsy, but also since modern Dick Grayson was not born during prohibition, this really isn’t a problem as it’s really common for Diddakois (half gypsies) to be treated as full gypsies nowadays.

As much as I love darker skinned Dick Grayson, it’s not a requirement. A lot of the GRTSB community (especially in Western Europe/Britain/Ireland) are on the pale side. This does not take away from their identity.

So that’s my rant. It’s like 3.30am so it’s probably a complete mess but hopefully it gets down the basics, at least insofar as it relates to my experiences and understanding as a gypsy from the fairground/a circus family. People will probably have different experiences (especially since I’m in the UK). Although I have based all of this on canon, and as such it should all be canon-compliant to my knowledge (I’ve still not read all the comics!), it is also equally based on my experiences, so you may interpret it completely differently. The beauty of Dick’s character is that he has been built up over 85 years, and as such, we have to do our best to interpret what was laid down in the Golden Age by writers with no idea of what Dick’s character would grow to be. As such, canon really is a bit of a sandbox, and this is my own go at it!

If anyone has any questions/wants clarification/notices any obvious contradictions with canon since I’ve not read them all yet, please feel free to point it out! This is not intended to be a lecture/call out post/dictatorship on how you view canon, just a small exploration of my interpretation of a character whom I relate to as a Romani speaking gypsy from the fairground/circus myself.

[signanothername]

If Nightmare somehow got his claws on Cross what would he first do?

Oof Anon, I think the correct question to ask is what he would not do hcchchch

Think of it this way, MTT have one single.. “advantage” for a lack of a better word, to being Nightmare’s subordinates

And that is Nightmare’s refrain from physically harming them.. much

Cause Nightmare cares about the practicality of everything and wants his plans to run as smoothly as possible, he doesn’t rely upon physical abuse as much as mental abuse when it comes to MTT, and even then, Nightmare tries to refrain from breaking them mentally either, he needs them to stay as functional as possible for long periods of time, if he does go beyond the usual limits he puts for himself and does something drastic, it’s either because he’s sure he doesn’t need them to work for a good amount of time, his plans can run with one or two people short for a good while, or he completely lost composure and did harm them beyond what he meant to do (now what Nightmare considers drastic vs normal is a whole other story, MTT are abused regardless)

Cross, on the other hand, is not Nightmare’s subordinate, never has been, nor does Nightmare care to recruit him in any capacity at any point in time, whether present or future, not only because Nightmare already sees the three under him as enough, positions already filled up, but he doesn’t see Cross as anywhere near competent either, so even if Nightmare actually did want to recruit someone, it certainly wouldn’t be Cross

Cross doesn’t have that.. “advantage” is what I mean to say, Nightmare wouldn’t hold back from torturing him physically, emotionally and mentally, there is literally no figurative shield between him and Nightmare’s wrath, the moment Nightmare has his claws on him it’s pretty much over for Cross unless someone somehow manages to find Nightmare’s castle to break him out (pretty much impossible), anything horrific you can think of? He’d probably do it, slowly break every single bone in his body, make him relive every single traumatic event in his life, hell, if he can, bring in his loved ones to slowly torture and kill them in front of him as he helplessly watches, literally make Cross beg and scream for mercy till his voice becomes hoarse, mentally manipulating him to distort his sense of time and reality

All of that, just because of a single broken deal

Tho if I have to be specific, I think the very first thing I can imagine Nightmare doing to Cross is mentally breaking him (Nightmare generally prefers mental torture over physical torture anyway), how would he do that?

Make Cross relive the moment he killed his loved ones and erased his AU over and over again till Cross is nothing but a weeping mess.. and maybe at some point, if possible, actually recreate that traumatic event and make Cross actually kill his AU a second time

[amascomet]

Hello I was wondering if you have more stuff on the TMNT Spliced Au and how the comic is going?

Ah thank you for your interest! I’ve got so much but also literally nothing haha. End of last year was particularly rough for me so I had to take a break from working on it. Love TMNT GS but I won’t lie and say it’s not emotionally draining, wish I could beam it into all of your heads! Here’s a huge dump of random assortments I have from developing it.

COMIC UPDATES - peep the sketch for the cover, cool right?

I finished thumbnailing the first 34 pages of #1, but only one page has been fully completed. ⚰️ I’ve never made a comic before, so I’m doing a lot of learning with this. Most of the delay just comes from the fact that I love to design and I’m very crazy about details so that means I’m easily getting caught up in reading books, building little 3D sets, designing props n vehicles, ect.

I get so caught up in the visual worldbuilding cause its my favorite thing to do lol. I feel really bad when I stop working on pages in because my brain is like OK WAIT I NEED TO DESIGN THE GUNS, THE LABS, AND STOCKMANS CAR KEYS. Its really silly. I do wanna keep chipping at the comic, but at this point I've written and planned so much of the lore I kinda just wanna make it all public so I can talk about it. I'm constantly torn about it cause its like oof whats the point of making the comic if I'm just gonna talk about all the spoilers. With how this years going, I'm starting to lean into more of lemme just be free and do whatever I want!

Table of contents from the lore bible I'm still chipping away at. I'd love to just drop updates for it if that's something people would be interested in.

Alternatively, the idea of just releasing scripts for it has crossed my mind. #1 has a general outline, but I'd actually would just love to go back and detail, refine it, and drop that for now until the visuals of the comic are done.

I'm actually going to test the waters now and link a script for a scene from The Farmhouse arc I wrote a couple of months ago. If that's something people would be interested in, I'd love to know!

ART DUMP MOMENT -

Various other little development sketches and a new character or two omg

OK I KNOW THAT WAS A BIT OF A RAMBLE, FORGIVE ME! But yup thats it! TDLR; GS is in development hell and I'm waiting for ya'll to give me the greenlight to just start talking crazy. I've got multiple seasons/arcs to gush about.

[kastorixe]

petty stuff (fluff)

ft. jing yuan (no beta we die like uh my will to live)

okay, you admit you are kind of overreacting.

kind of because you believe it’s valid!

“—like who even does that! i mean—yeah— i told him of our plans at the crack of dawn last week,” you took a swig of the bottle that within your reach, it's cold contents makes contact with your mouth, soothing but not getting rid of your frustration completely.

bottles of unbranded soda littered across your study table and yanqing grimaces. how can you consume a large amount of unhealthy drinks without keeling over—he will never know and never want to know.

“but he nodded and said he’ll make time for it— fast forward later,” your voice cracks “he’s nowhere to be seen!”

you pull away from the sleeves of your jacket, snot trailing from your nose to the poor cloth that had the misfortune of being a sleeve.

the blonde lad sighs at the display before putting on a strained smile.

“my liege, i am sure the general would appreciate it if you just tell him your woes.”

you side eye him, your sobs ceasing for a moment.

“now why would i do that?”

“Uh… because communication is key?” he slowly says but it comes off as a question due to his disbelief with your immaturity.

“sounds like you also don’t believe yourself…” you murmur as you melt onto the table. doubts now weighing on your already heavy shoulders.

now he’s done it, you’re quite a fickle to deal with and he might have made things worse.

before he could even utter a word, the door behind him slams open.

the culprit? your lover himself jing yuan. he struts into the room with a sense of urgency, its usual lax absent.

his eyes meet with the young boy and they nod together. a silent truce.

yanqing excuses himself from the room, looking overly eager to remove himself from this mess.

replacing him, is the painful silence you have been treating him since last week.

he gazes upon your figure, you’re currently now sitting up straight while writing something— seemingly unaffected by his sudden presence but the gibberish letters on the paper before you say otherwise.

compared to last time where you would avoid him like a plague—even leaving a meeting when he arrives—this is progress.

noticing that, he cautiously approaches you, stopping when you glare at him before continuing what you were doing.

it doesn’t take long for him to reach within your arm’s reach, draping himself against your still figure.

your protests went unheard as he makes himself comfortable in your arms.

“i missed you terribly, my love.” he sighs into your neck, his warmth breath sending shivers across your whole body.

“ugh, aren’t you forgetting something?” you grunt, sounding displeased by his shameless actions yet not moving a muscle to push him off.

“ah, right,” he hums, pulling away from your neck before holding your chin.

“how about i make it up to you? hm?”

[steveseddie]

‘cause it’s you and me

rating: g | cw: none | wc: 1,9 k | tags: eddie lives, hospitals and injury recovery, steve has a crush, he also knows how to play guitar, fluff

written for @steddielovemonth day one | You and Me by Lifehouse & the quote “every heart sings a song, incomplete, until another heart whispers back. Those who wish to sing always find a song. At the touch of love everyone becomes a poet.”

read on ao3

Steve doesn’t know how much time he’s spent on the chair that is next to Eddie’s hospital bed.

Too long probably, if the recurrent pain on his back means anything. But not even that is enough to prevent Steve from staying glued to that chair, neither are the doctor’s mean looks or Robin’s insistence about him getting proper sleep or meals for that matter. Steve only leaves the chair when he has a shift or when he wants Wayne to have time alone with his nephew or when the nurses wheel Eddie away for surgery or tests or physical therapy. That’s it.

It makes the months that Eddie spends recovering blur together. Sometimes, Steve even forgets what day it is, only managing to keep track of it by the nurse’s schedule or depending on who shows up to visit Eddie. The kids and Wayne and Robin all come on different days, effectively balancing keeping their friend company with their everyday lives.

All of them except Steve.

Ever since Spring Break, it’s been Eddie, Eddie, Eddie.

Find Eddie. Get Eddie’s heart beating again. Drag Eddie out of the Upside Down. Pray that Eddie makes it out of surgery. Wait for Eddie to wake up. Comfort Eddie when he’s in pain. Take Eddie’s mind off of the murder charges that haven’t been dropped yet or the loss of their trailer or the long hours of physical therapy ahead of him. Listen to Eddie ramble on the days that he feels better about books and music and Dungeons and Dragons. Watch Eddie sleep and only then try to get a little sleep himself.

The last one might sound a little creepy but Steve thinks it’s justified considering he still can’t forget how Eddie looked when they found him– pale, bloody, dead. Watching him sleep, his chest rising and falling slowly but steadily is the only thing that calms Steve enough for him to doze off in that damn uncomfortable chair.

Only at some point it stops being entirely about making sure that Eddie is alive– the staring. Suddenly, Steve can’t keep his eyes off of Eddie at all times.

Steve stares at his face while Eddie reads a book to him out loud and forgets to pay attention to what he’s saying. He stares at Eddie’s hands while he explains something to the kids and completely miss a question from Henderson. He stares at his mouth while Eddie slurps the extra jello cup that Robin sneaked in past the nurses and blush when she catches him and smirks knowingly at him.

It takes Steve some time to figure out why he looks at Eddie so much, obvious as it is, and when he finally does he actually leaves his chair and heads to the bathroom for a proper floor freak out.

He just doesn’t know what to do with these feelings for Eddie or where to go from there so he just– doesn’t do anything.

And things stay the same.

Except for the way Eddie keeps getting better.

The doctors are so optimistic that they announce that Eddie might get to go home soon. They have him doing laps around the hospital and start slowly tapering off his pain meds and encouraging him to pick back up things he used to do like writing and playing guitar to work on his dexterity, they said.

It’s why Eddie starts writing down plans and ideas for future dork campaigns again and why Wayne brings his sweetheart to the hospital.

(Eddie almost cried when he saw it, making grabby hands and hugging it against his chest with a happy sigh.

“I swear you’re happier to see that thing more than you’ve ever been to see me,” Steve muttered through pursed lips.

“Steve, don’t call her a thing! She can hear you!” Eddie protested, appalled. Which wasn’t a no but at least later he tells Steve that there’s enough room in his heart for two sweethearts.)

It’s not like Eddie goes back to being a rock god on the guitar right away and his writing is intelligible more often than not, but none of that stops him. He keeps trying, keeps practicing, and Steve loves him more and more for it.

Yes. Love. The first time the word pops up in Steve’s head it leads to yet another bathroom floor freak out but once he realizes it, he has to bite his tongue to stop himself from blurting it out several times a day.

He’s doing it right now while watching Eddie excitedly write down a D&D character sheet for him with his tongue poking out adorably between his lips, tempting Steve to lean in and kiss them. So when a nurse interrupts them to take Eddie away for some test, he appreciates the short break.

When he’s alone, Steve reaches for the notebook that Eddie left on the bed. It’s off limits for any of the kids, but Eddie has let Steve peek at it before. He doesn’t think he’ll mind.

He reads his character sheet, recognizing some of the nerdy words while others fly completely over his head. Then he leafs lazily through pages of notes and doodles until he pauses at what looks like an unfinished song, fragments of lyrics and melodies written messily over the page.

Steve sends a sidelong glance to Eddie’s guitar where it’s leaning against the wall.

He’s never told anyone but he took some guitar lessons back when he started high school, hoping that playing an instrument would help get him girls. He knows how to read music and can fumble his way through a few simple songs, but he never made it past that. It seemed useless when he already had Nancy, and then when he didn’t have her anymore, he had the kids and the Upside Down and playing guitar didn’t seem like a useful skill to have when fighting monsters.

He chuckles. “Guess I was wrong,” he mutters to himself, thinking about Eddie saving the world with a Metallica song of all things.

Without giving it much thought, Steve stands up and carefully grabs the guitar, bringing it back with him to the chair and resting it on his leg, Eddie’s notebook open on the bed in front of him.

He clumsily places his fingers on the fretboard and tries to play the melody that Eddie wrote down. He messes up a few notes, but for someone who hasn’t touched a guitar in years he thinks he plays it decently enough. Eddie would surely do a better job, but it still doesn’t sound half bad. Maybe he can ask Eddie for help to improve and–

“What are you doing?” Eddie’s voice breaks through the melody. His fingers slip and the guitar makes a loud, screechy sound that makes Steve wince.

He whirls around and finds Eddie staring at him from the door, his face unreadable.

Steve gulps, his cheeks pinking up at being caught. “Playing guitar?”

Eddie’s eyebrows knit together. “Since when do you know how?”

“I– uh, I took lessons years ago but I stopped,” he says, tripping on his words. “I– I found your– your song and I was trying to play it–”

Eddie’s eyes dart to the notebook on the bed. Steve winces again, worrying that Eddie will get mad because he went through his things or because he touched his sweetheart.

“That sounds nothing like what I wrote.”

Or because he butchered his song.

Steve blushes brighter, reaching for the notebook and fumbling to close it. “Sorry, I– it’s been a while and I was never that good to begin with.”

With three long strides –and a lot less limping than a month ago, Steve proudly notices– Eddie reaches his side and snatches the notebook from Steve’s hands.

“Give me that!” He says, flopping down on the bed and flicking furiously through the pages, his face pinched.

“Shit, Eddie, I’m sorry, I– I didn’t think you’d be mad–”

“You bet I’m mad!” Eddie says with a huff, patting the bed sheets, trying to find something.

Steve shrinks down on the chair. “I– I think I’m gonna go–” he says, pushing himself to his feet. Better to leave now before Eddie finds whatever he’s looking for and throws it at his head.

“Aha!” Eddie gasps, holding up his pen. Then he notices Steve standing awkwardly and frowns at him. “Wait, what? No, stay. Play it again.”

Steve blinks down at him. “What?”

“The song!” Eddie urges him but his voice is soft, gentle. “Play it again, Stevie, please.”

Stevie. Please. He’s not mad.

“What?”

Eddie heaves out a sigh, but it comes across as fond. “Dude, I’ve been trying to figure out the right melody for that song for like, half a year!” He says, shaking his notebook aggressively. A few pages fall off, but he pays them no mind. “But I just couldn’t get it fucking right, there was always something missing! And it was whatever you were doing when I walked in!”

“So you’re not mad at me?”

“Not at you, Stevie, no,” Eddie chuckles. “Just mad that it was you who figured it out with your secret magic guitar skills and not me.”

“Oh,” Steve says, and he can’t help but let out a chuckle himself. “So you want me to do it again?”

Eddie nods enthusiastically and that’s enough to make Steve flop back down on the chair, propping the guitar on his legs and doing his best to play the song like he did before.

He must get it right because Eddie lets out an adorable squeal before using his pen to cross out something and write down whatever Steve accidentally came up with.

“Goddamn, sweetheart, I’m gonna have to dedicate this song to you now as a thank you,” Eddie says, grinning so wide at his notebook that it shows off his dimples.

Steve hangs a hand from his neck. It feels hot to the touch, probably from the pet name. “Too bad it’s a love song,” he jokes weakly, even if he wants nothing more than for Eddie’s words to be about him.

Eddie glances up, his bottom lip trapped between his teeth. “I know,” he says softly, his eyes flickering nervously over Steve’s face.

Oh. Oh.

Stomach fluttering with butterflies, Steve stands up, grabbing the guitar by its neck to prop it up against the wall.

“Uh, you– are you leaving?” Eddie asks, chewing anxiously on his pen as he watches Steve move around silently. Little does he know that his heart is currently screaming at him to gently tackle Eddie into the bed.

But first–

“Just making sure your guitar is safe before I go over there and kiss you, Eds,” he says, the corners of his mouth ticking up when Eddie squeaks again, his eyes widening.

“Oh, o–okay. That’s smart. Yup,” he stammers out, his voice an octave higher, his cheeks pinking up. “Does that mean you also–”

“Feel that way about you?” Steve asks, sitting on the bed next to Eddie, who nods expectantly. Steve reaches out and tucks a lock of hair behind his ear. “Yeah, Eddie, I do.”

When Steve leans in and finally, finally kisses him, Eddie lets his notebook fall to the floor so he can grab Steve’s shoulders. The urgency to write down that perfect melody now replaced by an urgency for Steve.

But it doesn’t matter, Steve thinks that melody is now seared into both of their memories forever, as is their first kiss. The first of many.

[bapeach]

Stuttering heart

Another Azzi fic! I just feel like she'd be the sweetest girl ever. Hope you all enjoy! Constructive criticism is always welcome :D Find my masterlist here :)

Pairing(s): Azzi Fudd x female!reader  Word count: 6.2k+ Warnings: Cursing, stuttering Summary: In which your voice isn't the only thing that stutters, but your heart as well. ------------

UConn was the place to be if you wanted to be someone in the world. To some people, at least. You were one of them. You’ve wanted to go to UConn since you were 11 years old, and now, 7 years later, you’re living the dream. 

Okay, maybe living the dream was a slight overexaggeration that you told your parents to make them stop worrying about you. But you were happy. You were studying something you actually cared about and weren’t struggling all that much. So what if you didn’t live the typical college student life, going to parties every week? You’d much rather curl up in bed with a good book and some great music. And so what if you didn’t have any friends? You didn’t need anyone. You’d gone through your life alone for most of it anyway.

Whenever your parents asked, however, you always lied about how much fun you were having with your new besties. You just didn’t want them worrying about you when you were miles from home. You also didn’t want to hear your mom nag about how you need to go out more and actually talk to people. You’d tried that when you were younger, but it just didn’t work.

The whole making friends thing wouldn’t be so bad if you didn’t suffer from social anxiety and didn’t also have a speech impediment. You’ve had a pretty bad stutter your entire life, which always gets worse when you’re nervous. And so nerves make the stutter worse, which makes the nerves worse, which means you get stuck in a vicious cycle. Always being left a stammering mess at the slightest inconvenience. 

It was really bad when you were still young. The kids in your school constantly bullied you for being different. They’d always mock you and tease you but pretend to be nice kids when the teachers were around. It took you a while to tell your parents about the abuse you suffered in school, but when you finally did, they let you stay home. So you were homeschooled for most of your life. Your parents couldn’t exactly give you a whole college degree at home, though. So now you were at UConn!

Thankfully, you’re mainly surrounded by mature adults now, so the bullying was over. That sadly didn’t mean that they understood, though. Most people don’t really have the patience to listen to someone when they can barely say 2 words without a stutter coming through. You can see it in their eyes, the way they dart around the room, looking for an escape. Or you can tell by the way they try to help by finishing your sentences for you. You suppose it’s nice of them to try to help, but in reality, it’s just annoying. It completely throws you off, making you forget what you’re trying to say. Or it just makes you feel like an inconvenience.

So yeah, you didn’t really try to socialize with the students around you. You’d accepted your lonely life a long time ago and had made your peace with it. You never raised your hand in class, emailing the professor when you had any questions. You avoided group projects, opting to do all the work alone over having to deal with the anxiety of talking to your peers. So, maybe it wasn’t the best life you were living, but you tried to make the most out of it.

-----

You’re making your way out of the library when you first bump into her. You’d planned on getting some studying done in a quiet corner, surrounded by the smell of books, but the universe had other plans. Or, well, all the other students with the same idea did. The library is filled to the brim with people, so you’ll have to make do with studying in a coffee shop nearby. 

You grip your books a little tighter as you walk, eyes trained on the floor. You don’t notice the athlete making her way towards you until you crash into her. You fall down, dropping your textbooks along with the articles you’d planned to read. You quickly get up into a crouch as you start collecting your stuff, as well as the papers from the person you’d run into. “S-s-s-s-orry,” you mutter, still not looking up as your face turns red with embarrassment from both running into someone and your stammered apology. A hand enters your view as the person helps you grab everything. 

“Don’t worry about it,” you hear a female voice say. You finally glance up and freeze for a moment. The angelic voice belonged to an actual angel. Your heart skips a few beats as you feel your mouth drop open a little. The girl in front of you might just be the prettiest girl you’ve ever seen. Even though she’s crouched down, you can tell she’s tall and athletic. She has big, beautiful eyes that twinkle in the light. Her soft-looking lips are curved into a sweet smile. A smile that reaches her eyes and can melt the heart of anyone.

Once you’ve both grabbed everything, the brunette stands up, one hand holding some books as the other is stretched out towards you, ready to pull you up. You accept her hand as you stand up. Her hand feels both soft and rough at the same time. You smile awkwardly at her as she looks at the items she’s holding, trying to figure out which ones are hers and which ones are yours. You stare at her a moment longer before looking through your own pile. 

“Oh my God, you also have Mr. Davis? Is he also such an assh- I mean, is he also super strict in your class?” She asks, a small grin forming on her face at her slip up. She tilts her head a little as she waits for an answer. You swallow harshly, hoping you won’t completely embarrass yourself in front of the goddess standing before you. “Yeah, he’s p-p-p-pretty s-s-s-strict,” you mutter, clenching your jaw in annoyance at the stammer. You prepare for the inevitable. The classic “Why are you stuttering? Are you nervous?” or maybe the typical awkward smile as people try to get away from having a conversation with you.

You’re surprised to see and hear none of that. Instead, the girl’s smile softens just a bit, her eyes still looking into yours. “I have an assignment of his due tomorrow, and I honestly have no clue what I’m doing. He’s also too much of a jerk to give people an extension, so I’m screwed,” she huffs as her lips form into a pout. She straightens up a bit, her smile returning. “I’m so sorry, I just realized I never introduced myself! I’m Azzi,” she grins, stretching out her hand to shake yours. You hesitantly shake it as you open your mouth to speak. “I’m Y/N,” you reply, exhaling a sigh of relief when you don’t stutter.

You’re about to hand Azzi her papers when you see the assignment she was talking about. It was the same one you’d finished working on yesterday, and it was definitely not an easy one. Before you can overthink it, you start speaking. “I can help you if you w-w-want?” 

The brunette’s smile becomes even wider. “Really? You’d do that?” You can already feel regret bubbling up in your chest as you realize you’ll have to talk a lot if you want to help her. You almost back out, but you can’t. Not when Azzi is looking at you with those wide, hopeful eyes.

“Mhm,” you hum as you shrug your shoulders. “Thank you so much! Are you free right now?” she asks as she taps her fingers against the spine of the book she’s holding. You open your mouth to reply, but shut it again, instead choosing to simply nod. “Alright, let’s go,” she grins. She starts making her way to the library when you gently grab her arm to stop her. “The library is f-f-full. Wanna go to a c-c-coffee sh-sh-shop?” You ask, nervously scratching your arm. 

“Sure! Have you been to the one that only just opened? I swear their coffee is the best I've ever had,” she claims, leading the way. You shake your head as you follow her. The whole way to the café, Azzi talks about everything and nothing. From Mr. Davis’ class to her upcoming basketball game (You knew it, there was no way she wasn’t an athlete!). 

You listen to her voice, nodding and shaking your head at the right times. You reply when she has questions, but you try to avoid talking when you can. Whenever you do speak, however, your heart swells a little. Not once does the brunette try to hurry you up or talk over you. She patiently waits for you, the smile on her face never leaving.

When you reach the shop, the athlete tells you she’ll order the drinks as you go find a seat. You give her your order with a small smile before finding a table. Once Azzi has the drinks, she hands you yours and plops down with a smile. You grab your wallet to pay her back, but she holds up her hand to stop you. “No, no, it’s okay! Consider this payment for your help.” 

You start shaking your head, ready to tell her she doesn’t have to pay you for that. You don’t get the chance to, however, as Azzi gives you a playful glare. You sag your shoulders with a huff, but a smile makes its way onto your face as you hear the brunette giggle.

“Alright, let’s get this show on the road,” she says, looking at you with hopeful eyes. You give her a firm nod as you crack your knuckles. You spend the next 45 minutes explaining the assignment, giving examples, and showing her a step-by-step on how to solve the issue. Once she finally understands, she makes the task before looking at you for approval. You quickly scan the page as a bright smile makes its way to your face. You show her 2 thumbs up as she cheers, leaning back in her seat with relief. 

You can’t believe you’d just spend almost an hour with someone who wasn’t a family member, and you didn’t even feel bad once. Every time you got stuck on a word, the brunette would just calmly wait for you to continue. She’d look at you with kind eyes and a relaxed posture, never once getting annoyed or losing her patience.

It’s silly how you haven’t even known Azzi for a day, but you already feel so safe in her company. Is this what it was like to have a friend? You feel a pit grow in your stomach as you realize you’ll both go your own ways again soon and probably won’t ever talk again. Because sure, Azzi didn’t mind spending some time with you, but it’s not like she’d want to be your friend and deal with you all the time, right?

You get shaken out of your thoughts as the athlete speaks again. “How about we exchange numbers? You seem like a cool person to hang out with outside of school stuff,” she says, her pearly whites on display. You stare at her in shock for a moment. It feels like you somehow ended up in a movie. The pretty and popular jock befriending the shy, nerdy girl. 

“I mean, we don’t have to if you don’t wanna! No pressure!” She continues as you don’t reply. “N-n-no! That’d be n-n-n-n-,” you sigh in frustration as you clench your fist. “Jesus Christ, can I please just speak like a normal person for once?” You think to yourself. A warm hand lands on your clenched one. You look into Azzi’s eyes as she sends you an encouraging nod. 

“Exchanging n-n-numbers would be n-nice,” you stammer, but you don’t break eye contact. The athlete grins as she grabs her phone and hands it to you. You try to suppress the disappointment that goes through you when Azzi takes her hand off of yours. You give her your own phone before quickly adding yourself as a new contact in hers. A tiny grin curls on your lips as you see hers. “Azzi 🏀👸🩷”

“I need to head off. ‘ve got practice soon, but we’ll talk, yeah?” The basketball player states as she starts getting up. You follow her lead, planning on leaving your own schoolwork for some other time. You think you deserve some time to relax after how well you’d done this afternoon. “Okay, good luck at p-p-practice,” you mumble with a grin. She sends one of her own in return, as well as a playful wink, before leaving. For a minute you stand still in the quiet coffee shop, your chest warm but light. 

The smile on your face doesn’t leave for the rest of the day.

You don’t hear from Azzi the next day, but you don’t mind. (Really, you didn’t. You just kept checking your phone to uh… see if your mom had any updates on her newest plants! Or maybe your dad needed some help with his e-mails again!). Maybe it would’ve been too good to be true. What are the chances an angel like her would want to befriend you?

The following day, you don’t expect anything, either. You figure Azzi just wanted to be polite and didn’t actually want to hang out again. You’re in the middle of writing a boring essay when your phone buzzes. You know you shouldn’t look, being well aware that you’ll get distracted and push aside your work. But what if you’d gotten an important message? You eye your phone for a few seconds before rolling your eyes and grabbing it. Your breath catches in your throat as you see it’s from your… friend? Acquaintance? From Azzi.

She sent a picture of her assignment with a few happy faces. The assignment has a big red A marked on the corner. Your heart fills with happiness at the fact that she let you know she did well. You quickly send a reply congratulating her, your homework completely forgotten. 

Azzi immediately sees the message and starts typing. You quickly close out of the messages as you bite your nail nervously. When your phone buzzes once more, you look at the text through your notification bar, too anxious to let her know you’re reading it.

“Do you have any classes left today?” The message reads. You open the app again as you reply, “Nope, what about you?” You press send before throwing your phone on the bed next to you as you get up and pace around. You were glad the brunette was texting you, but at the same time, it made your anxiety skyrocket.

Buzz buzz

“I’m free for the rest of the day” “Wanna get lunch together to celebrate? My treat, as a thanks”

Your cheeks blaze a bright red at the invitation. You quickly start replying. “Lunch sounds nice :) Also you really don’t have to do that! You already paid for my coffee!!” You bite your lip anxiously, scared you’re coming on too strong with the exclamation marks. “That was a thank you for explaining the assignment, this is a thank you for getting me an A 😁” You shake your head in amusement. “I’m not going to be able to change your mind, am I?”

A giggle escapes your mouth as you see her react with a 😛. Your smile drops when you read her next message. “Text me your dorm number, I’ll come pick you up” You freeze for a moment, realizing you’re about to hang out with a pretty girl for the second time this week, and this time, you had time to prepare. Sure, it wasn’t a lot of time, but enough to make you panic about how you can fix your appearance quickly to somewhat look okay. 

You text her your room number before getting up and running to your closet. You stumble out of your pajama pants while simultaneously trying to take off your coffee-stained shirt. You hurriedly put together an outfit that looks nice but doesn’t make it seem like you’re trying too hard. After a lot of tumbling and cursing, you finally finish getting dressed. You spin around your room a few times trying to locate your hairbrush while also attempting to put on your shoes.

Once you’re happy with your appearance, you sit down on your bed and take a deep breath. “Chill before you give yourself a panic attack,” you think to yourself. Once you’ve calmed down a bit, you walk over to your desk and grab everything you’ll need later. You take one last look around your room, making sure you’ve not forgotten anything, when you hear a knock on your door. You wipe your sweaty hands on your pants before making your way towards the door.

“Hi,” Azzi says with a beaming smile. “Hi,” you grin back. You lock your door behind you before making your way down the hall with the athlete beside you. “I honestly still can’t believe I got an A on that assignment. I didn’t even know Mr. Davis gave people A’s.” Azzi starts the conversation. 

“Yeah, he r-r-rarely gives out A’s, and f-f-f-for some r-r-r-reason h-h-h-e,” you huff in annoyance with how much you’re struggling to speak right now. You shake your head a little, letting the brunette know she can ignore you. You feel a familiar heat crawl up your face.

You knew this would happen. You were hanging out with someone you barely know, who is extremely pretty, and who is definitely way too cool to be your friend. It’s a surprise you’ve been able to say some words without stuttering, with the nerves you’re feeling.

“He what?” Azzi asks, looking at you with wide eyes, her head slightly tilted with interest. Your blush burns even brighter, but this time it’s not from embarrassment but rather the adoration you have for the taller girl. “H-he seems to h-h-h-,” you clear your throat, taking a quick glance at Azzi. She still has that easy, calming smile on her face as she listens to you. “hate to give p-p-people an A… Which d-d-doesn’t make sense, because he’s a t-t-teacher, so he should be happy that his s-s-s-students score well.”

You’re surprised with yourself. You try to avoid talking as much as you can, but with Azzi it’s different. She listens to you. Really listens to you. It makes you actually want to have proper conversations with her. Because she’s the only person outside of your family and speech therapist that doesn’t seem to judge you.

Azzi chuckles as she nods her head. “Yeah, it makes no sense at all. I hate teachers like that! Why become a professor if you’re gonna hate your job and students?” You send her a grin before looking away. You continue to listen to the athlete ramble about the professors she loves and hates, adding your own opinions as well. 

You spend hours with the girl. The lunch “date” spilling over into a walk around campus as you both enjoy each other’s company. You make sure to have a pit stop for ice cream, giving the employee your card before Azzi has the chance to pay again. When hours have passed, and the skies have become a mix of oranges, pinks, and purples, you finally decide to call it a day.

The brunette walks you back to your dorm before wishing you a goodnight with the promise of another hangout soon. You give her a tiny salute, regretting it immediately when you realize what you’re doing. Your regret melts away the second you hear Azzi’s sweet laugh, her eyes crinkling as she smiles widely. She shakes her head in amusement and adoration as she gives you a salute back before leaving. 

Not long after she’s gone, you get a message saying she made it to her dorm safely. You heart the message before getting ready for bed. Your chest feels warm with giddiness as you crawl underneath your blanket. Once you finally fall asleep, you dream of a beautiful, tall girl holding your hand as you walk on the beach, without a worry in the world.

The following weeks, you and Azzi text every day. You give each other updates on how classes are going, talk about your families, and laugh at each other’s silly stories. You even arrange some more hangouts. You’ve already made plans to meet up at the library to study together, the coffee shop to give life updates, and even your dorm for movie nights. 

Your heart feels light when your parents ring you for their scheduled video call. You tell them about the new friend you’ve made and how much you’ve been enjoying university lately. Your chest is free from the familiar ache, as you don’t have to lie to them for once. You’re in the middle of recounting your latest adventure with the tall girl when your phone buzzes. You pause your story for a moment, glancing at the message. “Is that her?” Your mom interrogates you with a tiny smirk. You roll your eyes at her, but you can’t hide the smile that’s growing on your face.

“Mhm,” you hum. “She wants to h-hang out later,” you reply as your eyes linger on your phone. “We’ll let you go then, sweetie,” your dad says with an affectionate wink. You’re glad they don’t tease you any longer, saying their goodbyes. The second your laptop screen goes dark, you snatch up your phone, typing a reply. “Sounds good!”

“Great! Would you mind if my team also comes over? They wanna meet you” Azzi replies. You feel a pit form in your stomach but feel a bit calmed when you see the next message come in. “You can totally say no! No pressure :)” You feel your heart swell two sizes as you read the comforting words. The brunette always made sure you were comfortable, never making you do anything you weren’t into. She always picked up on your anxiety the second you started feeling nervous. She’d even googled all the ways you can help someone out of a panic attack after learning you struggled with them sometimes.

Azzi is your first ever friend, and you’re extremely grateful to have her in your life. You hope you two will stay friends for a long time, which is why you hate yourself for falling for her. She can never find out. She’d probably finally realize that being your friend wasn’t a good idea, and then you’d be all alone again. 

You don’t realize you’ve zoned out until your phone buzzes again. “Y/N seriously, don’t worry about it! I can see you’ve read my messages and I know you’re probably freaking out but you don’t have to, I’ll tell them now isn’t a great time :))”

You immediately start typing back. “No no! I’d love to meet them too! When should I come over?” Azzi was right, of course, you were freaking out, but that didn’t mean you were going to let her cancel on her friends for you. Besides, you really did want to get to know the girls from Azzi’s stories. If they were as great as the brunette says they are, you had nothing to worry about. You’d also seen the team pass by on your TikTok plenty of times to know they were some of the funniest people you’ll ever meet.

“I’m just chilling rn, so whenever you’re free you can come over :) the girls won’t be here for another 2h so we can relax a little before then if you want? :D” You let her know you’ll be at her dorm in 10 minutes, not even letting yourself rethink anything. You quickly get ready, giving yourself a brief glance in the mirror before leaving.

When you knock on the athlete’s door, it opens almost immediately. Your heart skips a beat as you see Azzi’s dazzling smile. “Hey! Come in, come in!” She beams. You grin as you follow her to her room. She plops down on her bed, patting it to invite you in. She grabs her laptop, putting on a show you two had started a while ago but never really cared for that much. The taller girl knew you liked having something as background noise as you talked, so all the focus and pressure wouldn’t be on you. 

You’re in the middle of a story when you see Azzi’s expression shift. She’d been looking at you with wide, interested eyes and a tiny smile as she listened, but now her eyes look softer. You can almost see a hint of… adoration? In her eyes. Her smile looks more real too. “W-what?” You stutter as your ears start burning. 

The brunette shakes her head softly before saying, “I just… I’ve noticed you’ve started stuttering less when you’re with me.” Her voice is barely louder than a whisper, but you hear it perfectly fine with how close you two are sitting. You look down, trying to not let her see the blush on your face, but you know there’s no way she could miss it.

“Y-yeah, I guess I’ve just b-b-become more comfortable around you,” you mutter back before looking her in the eyes. You see Azzi’s own cheeks change into a different shade. As she opens her mouth to reply, a knock can be heard on the door. You both jump in surprise before the athlete gets up to go open the door. 

You can feel your heart pounding in your chest, and you’re not fully sure why that is. Is it because the team had arrived? Or is it because you only just noticed how close you and Azzi were sitting when you’d jumped apart?

You take a sip of water, trying to calm your nerves. As you’re putting the bottle down, KK and Paige bounce into the room. Azzi is quick to follow, settling back down beside you and sliding her hand over yours below the blanket. A few seconds later, the other girls walk in, but you’re too overwhelmed by Paige and KK to notice. You look like a startled deer as they excitedly introduce themselves, pushing their hands towards you to shake them. Azzi doesn’t hesitate to slap their hands away with an amused grin as she shakes her head. “Can you guys please be normal for once?” She asks, sending you a smile when she hears you chuckle at her friends’ chaos.

The excited girls pout as the rest of the team introduces themselves as well. You can already feel the nerves melt away by just being near them. They just have this aura that makes you feel comfortable. Once everyone is done, you introduce yourself as well. “H-h-hey, I’m-m Y/N, it’s nice to m-m-m-meet you guys.” 

You see KK’s eyes widen a little at your stutter before she looks over at Paige. The blonde immediately gives her a little push with a quick shake of her head. They’re subtle enough that no one else notices, but you’d grown up watching the people around you and blending in, so it wasn’t a surprise you’d caught their interaction. You send Paige a thankful smile, sending KK a grin as well to let her know you aren’t upset. You’re used to people giving you looks when they hear you stammer. You also know that the team didn’t mean anything bad by it, they probably just didn’t expect it.

The girls all find a spot to settle down in, some on the floor, some on the beanbag in the corner of the room, while KK sits on Azzi’s desk chair, spinning it in circles. As you all hang out, your smile never leaves your face. Have you ever laughed this much before? If you weren’t chuckling at Paige’s sass, you were laughing at KK’s dramatics. During the rare moments when they shut up, Nika’s voice fills the air as she teases the younger girls. The constant murmur of voices makes you feel a type of comfort you’ve never felt before.

Right now, you’re listening to a funny story Paige is telling as KK and Ice squabble in their corner of the room. You feel lighter than air with the relief of feeling like you finally fit in. Thankfully, Azzi is there to ground you. Somehow, you two have ended up fully leaning against each other, the brunette’s arm around your waist. You don’t know how you got here, but you weren’t complaining. 

You can feel yourself becoming a bright shade of red as Paige glances at Azzi’s hand on your hip before looking up at you and wiggling her eyebrows. You look down as you try to hide your blush and the smile that can’t seem to leave your face. Feeling the brunette squeeze your side, you look over at her with a raised eyebrow. She mouths the words, “Are you okay?” making sure you’re doing alright without alerting the others. You stare at her lips a moment longer than you should before sending her a tight-lipped smile and a nod. 

You quickly look back at Paige, checking to see if she’d noticed the whole interaction. The blue-eyed girl is already facing you with a smug look. You roll your eyes and stick your tongue out playfully, feeling a bit surprised at how at ease you feel, even after getting teased.

When the skies become a dark shade of gray, the team slowly starts dispersing. The girls all give you their number, demanding you all hang out again soon. Paige is the last to leave, sending you both a sleepy wave as she closes the door behind her. You don’t miss the sly wink she sends your way when Azzi turns towards you.

You sit up a bit straighter as you stretch your arms and crack your back. The brunette sends you a playful look of disgust, scrunching up her nose as she hears your joints pop. You give her a wide, innocent grin. “I should get g-going,” you sigh, not wanting to part with the girl just yet. “Stay,” Azzi says, her voice barely above a whisper. You look back at her, a little shocked at the request. Her brown eyes meet yours. Her shoulders look a little more tense than usual, but her face looks calm and steady. “Okay,” you whisper back.

Azzi’s shoulders immediately relax as she sends you a soft smile. She gets up and walks over to her closet, finding you something to wear. “Is this okay?” She asks, holding up a pair of her shorts and a shirt with her basketball number on it. “Mhm,” you hum, trying not to blush at the fact that you’ll be wearing her clothes, her number. 

After she hands you the clothes, you walk over to the bathroom and get ready for bed. You take an extra minute to let your face cool down after seeing yourself in the mirror. Once you’ve calmed down, you walk back into the bedroom and over to Azzi’s bed. The athlete’s eyes linger on you for a moment before she briskly walks into the bathroom to get ready herself. 

You don’t see the brunette’s reddened cheeks as she goes to hide. You can’t tell Azzi is splashing water in her face to calm down as her mind goes a million miles per hour at how cute you look in her clothes. You’re completely unaware of the fact that your crush is fully losing her mind about the fact that she has fallen for you. 

When Azzi returns, she crawls into the bed next to you, sliding down so you’re face to face. Your left hand is lying under your head, as your right lays between you two. She mimics your position before slowly sliding her hand into yours. Azzi sends you a soft smile, receiving one of your own in return. The smile doesn’t leave your face as you fall asleep staring at the angel in front of you.

When you wake up the next morning, the bed feels cold and empty. You frown a little as you get up. You pad over to the bathroom, scratching your head when you don’t see Azzi in there either. You swiftly get ready before making your way to the living room. You immediately see Paige and Azzi as they’re leaning over the kitchen counter. They’re both leaning in close, talking in hushed voices, before the blonde notices you in the doorway. She loudly clears her throat, straightening up as she exclaims, “Y/N! Good morning!”

“M-morning,” you say softly, sending Azzi a raised eyebrow. You wonder if something is wrong when she sends you an awkward smile that looks more like a grimace than anything. Noticing her look, Paige gives her a tiny push with her elbow before walking over to you. “So, do you have any classes today?” She asks. 

“Y-yeah, in an hour… I should probably head b-b-back to my dorm to get r-r-ready,” you reply as you grab your stuff. You give Azzi a questioning look as she awkwardly stands behind Paige, looking down at the floor.

“Okay, w-well… See you guys l-later, I guess,” you say as you give them a small wave before leaving. You hear Paige turn to Azzi and say, “Oh my God, bro,” as you close the door with a small frown. Did you do something wrong? Did she find out you have a crush on her, and did she hate you?

You barely pay attention to your classes, still too focused on the way Azzi was acting this morning. Around noon, she texts you, wishing you good luck in Mr. Davis’ class, like she always does. You feel a bit more at ease, figuring you’re probably overthinking stuff. The athlete sends you her usual good night message when she goes to bed, as well as a routine good morning. You let the weird morning fall to the back of your mind as you both continue everything like normal.

Your nerves flare up again when a few days pass and Azzi doesn’t text you anything other than a good morning. She doesn’t even look at the messages you send in return, though she usually replies within a few minutes. By the time it’s noon and hours have passed, you’re pacing your dorm so much, you think you might leave a walking trail on the carpet. You’re biting your nails, the pit in your stomach growing by the minute. Your mind is floating with thoughts of something having happened to her or her not wanting to be your friend anymore. 

You get shaken out of your thoughts when you hear a knock on the door. You quickly walk over, hoping it’s the girl you can’t stop thinking about. When you open the door, you lose your breath for a moment. In front of you, Azzi is standing, holding a bouquet of your favorite flowers. She swallows harshly, looking at you nervously but also with determination. 

She clears her throat a little, gripping the flowers a bit harder. “Hi,” she says. “Hi,” you breathe out, staring at her with wide eyes. “Listen, I… I really like you and… Damn it, I had this whole speech planned, but now that I’m here, I’m completely blanking,” she says as she starts frowning, looking at the floor. 

You take a step closer to her, now standing halfway into the hallway. “Azzi…” you whisper, biting your lip to stop yourself from smiling. She looks back up at you before taking a deep breath. “I really like you, and it’s completely fine if you don’t like me back, but… I was wondering if you wanted to go out with me?” She says, trusting the flowers forward. You take them with a wide smile. “I’d love t-that,” you reply.

Your heart skips another beat as her face brightens. She pulls you into a hug, squeezing you tightly while making sure not to crush the flowers. You wrap your arms around her waist as you put your face in the crook of her neck. Inhaling deeply, you relax into her hold. You pinch yourself, making sure you’re not dreaming, grinning even wider when you realize you’re not.

You let go of each other as you hear a “YES!” from a few feet away. You both look towards the end of the hallway, seeing Paige peeking around the corner. The girl’s eyes widen as she quickly moves back behind the wall. You giggle as Azzi huffs. “I swear that girl cannot be normal.” “HEY!” The blonde yells back but doesn’t show herself. “Nor can she be subtle!” Azzi raises her voice. “Sorry!” Paige apologizes before you hear her retreating footsteps.

You grin up at Azzi, who’s rolling her eyes in amusement. “Sorry about that. I practiced my speech with her and told her to stay in our dorm, but she’s Paige, so she didn’t listen.” You shake your head, your eyes twinkling in entertainment as you pull the brunette into your dorm. 

You two have a date to plan, after all.