#so many unnecessary changes and parts that were too long and parts that were too short

[90sgrungelouis]

sorry to be That kind of person because i also hate when people are never satisfied but i just didnt like this weeks episode. the books were funny! exciting! fast paced! action packed! full of personality!! every week i wait to get invested and excited because i WANT to get excited and i WANT this show to do well but every week i sit there at the end of the episode feeling disappointed. them changing the lotus flowers to be like 'it was in the air' is so lame, adding in that augustus character was unnecessary, they took out everything that made the casino cool (PLEASE for the love of god STOP telling instead of showing, it reads like an episode of dora the explorer), lin manuel miranda absolutely did NOT have to be in that episode because he added completely nothing, and there is so much unnecessary exposition i feel it coming out of my ears. i just feel like this series is so serious and flat and lacks the personality and action and fun that the books (and even the movies lbr) had. i just. i dont know man! im sad.

[dcxdpdabbles]

DCxDP fanfic idea: Big Fish in Gotham Pond

Based off of @saphushia art found here. . I just loved the idea of Tucker not knowing his skill level because he grew up in the boonies

Tucker gets scouted by Wayne Enterprises after he fixes a kid's computer game while in Gotham visiting Danny.

See, Tucker always known he is passable at tech- one has to be when a technology theme ghost is consistently harassing one's best friend- but to be good at something in a small town like Amity Park didn't mean much .

It's a big fish in a small pound sort of deal. That's why he's never put much thought into it. If Tucker were ever to rank himself in terms of school grades, he would say his computer skills were about a C-.

B+ if it was just coding.

His parents also don't think much of his obsession with his PDA or phones. They thought he waste too many hours on them like the rest of his generation.

It didn't matter that Tucker's technology was about five or more years behind his classmates.

The Foley were hard-working people who barely scraped enough for bills. They were never below the property line, but they danced on it often enough that Tucker knew never to ask for unnecessary purchases.

For as long as he could remember, his parents have always worked long and hard hours. He never blamed them for missing so much of his childhood, in fact he was grateful that they worked so hard to keep the roof over his head, but he did miss them.

That's why Danny's house became a haven for him. He was always at the Fenton's place because the loud, wacky family was much better company than the home silence.

Tucker knew that his family's financial situation didn't change how Danny or Sam viewed him. They had his back through tick and thin just as he did for them, but as they got closer to graduation the difference between them became jarring.

Sam had easy picking of what she wanted to do and where she wanted to go. Her parents were so overjoyed that she wanted to go to a university that they didn't even argue about her wishing to major in botanical biochemistry.

She had started house hunting in Star City midway through senior year. Her parents would gift it to her as a graduation present. Sam would live there for the next eight years to finish her degree.

Danny's parents, while somewhat eccentric, were also certified geniuses. Between the two of them, they had five PHDs and were often freelancing for companies when not doing ghost research. They too could send their two kids to college States away with housing not being a issue.

Jazz went to Metropolis to study Physiology. She lived in a small apartment but was doing well off her scholarships and parent's funding. Last he heard, she had a part-time job at the Daily Planet as a research assistant to gain some independence.

Danny wanted to go to Gotham for their engineering program. He, too, had an apartment of his own, with scholarships and equal funding from his parents. He also worked at Wayne Enterprises, but he was a receptionist. He hoped that once he graduated, he could apply for their engineering program

Not Tucker. His family could only help him get into Community College near Amity. He also couldn't afford to move out so he stayed with them, picking up a part time job to help out when he could.

Tucker is a first-generation college student so even though it wasn't much, he loved to see how his parents glowed when telling others their boy was futhering his education. He wanted to do something that paid well- and after years of patching up Danny- he figured nursing would do the trick.

Tucker would do all his basics in the community College, take a break to save up some money and then move on to the bigger schools.

The day of the graduation felt bittersweet. Team Phantom was finally adults, finally starting out in the real world, but while Danny and Sam moved on to bigger and better things, Tucker knew he would be left behind in little no-where Amity Park.

He never brought it up, but he felt a small dosage of envy the last day of summer before his friends finished packing and left.

Despite both being gone, Tucker had little to no social life even though they called, texted, and emailed often. His days blurred between class, work, and home. Even then, classes were long and tedious, work often ending with one or more customers screaming in his face to try and get free food.

His parents quickly started to nag that he should find a wife as they had married young. They couldn't figure out why he didn't want the same, even though he had no social life again.

Life became dull.

Tucker's only sparks of joy were playing online with Danny and Sam - when they found the time to log in or re-coding his old tech to try and salvage it whenever it broke down.

Soon, it became apparent that Tucker was slowly lacking motivation when he started skipping classes to sleep in and started feeling anxious when he needed to clock in for shifts.

It leads to him barely getting out of bed.

He felt horrible about it, thinking his parents sacrificed so much for him only to have him throw away the opportunities they gave him, and the cycle of not being able to get out of bed would start all over again.

It was Danny who caught on, and all but begged Tucker to come to Gotham for a weekend. He even sent money over for the plane ticket.

Tucker couldn't have gotten on that plane fast enough. He arrived early on Friday since the tickets were cheaper- and Uber over to WE headquarters to pick up Danny's keys as they agreed.

That way, Tucker could sleep and rest in the apartment while Danny worked.

Danny would finish his shift and have the weekend plus Monday and Tuesday off to spend with Tucker. When he arrived, Danny was helping a school check in for a field trip, so Tucker sat down to wait.

Next to him, a kid was growling at his laptop, frankly typing and moving his fingers over the computer's touch mouse. Tucker accidentally glimpsed his screen when the kid started swearing in a different language.

It looked like a shooting game but his lag was bad. By the time the boy pressed the buttons to have his little drone move the other flying things he was chasing were flipping though the air and out of his shooting rage.

It sucked when that happened, and since he was using WE free wifi for guests, it was probably the game. The graphics were badass, though. Seemed almost real.

"Hey try updating the system" He tells the kid after seeing the boy once again lag so bad he missed his shot.

Green eyes swing to him drenched in rage. Which yeah, Tucker knows how frustrating that could be.

"Did I ask for your help!?" The boy snaps, his words lined with an upper-class accent. Made sense since he was wearing a Gotham Academy uniform like the rest of the large school group. "Why are you even looking this way, peasant?"

"No, sorry. I just noticed the lag." Tucker raised his hand, slightly amused at the peasant insult. "I thought I could fix it for you."

The boy's face spams, "You believe you have the ability?"

"Ugh sure? I can try?"

"Here. Be quick. The fate of this city's air defenses depend on it" the boy turns his lap top to him and Tucker blinks.

Okay. So fix the game. He can do that.

And he does, quickly opening the code, analyzing the control and commands , he gets it running properly in less then twenty minutes. The boy seems utterly shock but he quickly takes control of the game and shoots down all the escaping ninjas from the sky.

"Thank you." The boy says with no more tense in his shoulders. Then he closes his laptop and dissappears with the crowd of students.

Tucker thought the kid was a cute.

Danny hands him the keys not long after and he leaves.

Never was he aware of the Boy being Damian Wayne and that the game was not a game but a actual defensive drone system that was fighting off the League of Assassins.

He only finds out how important those two facts are when Danny gets a call from Tim Drake asking if he could pass along Tucker's information because the CEO wanted him on staff as soon as possible..

Both nineteen-year-olds lost their minds after getting the call, screaming at each other in ghost shrieks of glee. They called Sam to let her know- and have her lawyers look over the contact Tim Drake sent just to make sure it wasn't a big-time company trying to screw him over.

He went to an interview three days later. He faced Tim Drake, the current seventeen-year-old CEO, Leo Noir, the current head of HR, and Jessica War, the current head of computer services. They asked him many questions about himself- some of which he felt he had answered terribly- then had him take a computer test.

Tucker thought it was busy work, so he quickly breezed through it. He fixed the problem in many of the coding for various programs, adding his flare to the final product, and after thanking them for their time, went out into the lobby.

He hadn't even reached the door before Jesssica ran after him, offering him the job. Apparently, the first two problems they had him do was the busy work. Tucker had thought they were the ones to let him get comfortable with the coding program.

Like a tutorial in video games.

The other seven were actual issues; many of their latest cellphone products failed. Tucker had solved them in an hour, which had taken the actual team of coders about a month.

"Nitey one dollar and thirty-five cents an hour," Tim tells him tapping the hiring contact. "It would be eighty hours every paycheck. You can work here or at home. Full Benefits. What do you say?"

Tucker's jaw drops. "When do I start!?"

He calls his parents to tell them he will be staying in Gotham with Danny. He tries to explain what had happened but it was all so fast that he can only babble about certain parts.

They tell him not to worry about explaining because they understand how much this means to him.

His parents help pack everything for him and when he flies back for it they, offer him hugs and support. Tucker is so glad they aren't mad.

"I sort of knew it was coming," His dad laughs. "You and that Fenton boy have always been inseparable."

"I did the same thing, you know," His mom says, wiping tears from her eyes but smiling all the same. "I moved with your father states away with little to no plan when I turned twenty too. Drove your grandfather mad."

He loves them both so much. He promises to send money- disregarding their denials- and flies back to Gotham, where Danny has opened his apartment until he gets enough for his own place.

He plans on renting a house with three bedrooms, one for him, one for his office, and another for Danny, as soon as he can. He wants to pay his friend back for everything he did and Danny deserves a bigger living space.

And for once, he'll not have to worry about money!

For once, life is looking up!

(What Tucker is unaware of, is that his parents think he moved to the big city to be with his childhood best friend turned recent lover. They don't know that the money he is sending home is from his own payroll and not Danny's. They think he's a stay-at-home husband.

Tucker is also unaware that the Bats are closely watching him in case he goes rogue. They have been slowly "causally" running into him in the city and breaking into his place to check for supervillain activity.)

[just-jordie-things]

headcanon request: how would the jjk guys react if someone's trying to flirt with them but they're already in a relationship with their s/o?

YES i love some light jealousy teehee ___

GOJO SATORU

has no chill if someone's flirting with him. or worse, he thinks someone's flirting with him, but they're just taking his order, or letting him know his shoe is untied.

he's literally "I'M MARRIED"

(for the untied shoe one, he definitely trips when he runs off)

he's so annoying abt it fr. always throwing "i have a wife" (even long before you're married) around even when unnecessary

and ppl do flirt with him, he's gojo, but sometimes... he's just a lot.

even if someone looks at him too long, he's wrapping his arm around you and loudly announcing "in front of my wife? you're lucky i'm holding her back!"

and you're just standing there bewildered with the box of cereal you were about to toss into the cart and wondering who the hell he's talking to- and when the hell did he propose??

FUSHIGURO MEGUMI

for the most part he doesn't really notice when someone's flirting with him. i think it would take some very obvious hints.

so say someone is really trying to get him to catch on, pulling all the stops- fluttering eyelashes, unnecessary touching, one too many comments about his eyes, and finally, slipping a piece of paper into his hand with their phone number.

megumi can accidentally be a little cold.

he scowls at the phone number before crumpling the paper and dropping it.

"i don't want that," he's completely expressionless when he speaks, and honestly, the flirt-er is lucky he said anything at all rather than straight up walking away. "i have a girlfriend"

and then he walks away.

and when he meets up with you again he's a little more affectionate than usual, holding you a little longer, pulling you closer when you settle on the couch or bed or wherever, kissing you a few extra times for good measure.

don't get him wrong, it's not out of guilt or anything. he just wants you to know that he thinks of you when you're apart, and that he appreciates and loves you to death. nothing could ever change that.

ITADORI YUUJI

i don't often add him to my brainrot posts but i SHOULD and i had the most brilliant thought for him specifically

if he's getting hit on, he'll shut it down casually enough, and just blatantly tell them they're not his type.

and then he'll just start listing everything about you. and lover boy is BABBLING ok, no one could shut him up

he's describing your hair your eyes your nose your hands your style- and once he gets thru the physical stuff, it gets random

he's talking about your hobbies, your weird interests or collections, how sometimes you're a bad driver but you try your best lmfao he gets on such a tangent i don't think he'd even realize his tactic for defusing the flirting is just confusing the other person to the point of no longer wanting to give him their number

and once he's done with his dreamy little speech, he just goes "like my partner!!" all excited and bubbly

he's always rushing off to meet up with you then, having got himself so eager to be around you some more

OKKOTSU YUUTA

he's polite, but firm. he can also be a little quick to say he's taken, but it's only because he wants to let people down easy!

he's very kind when urning down phone numbers or flirty advances, always giving a gentle smile and saying no thank you, or actually i have a girlfriend. and he never apologizes when he says the second one, but that doesn't mean he's cruel! he's just thoughtful and respectful of you!

yuuta's a total gentleman.

but. god forbid. if he gets one of those nasty ppl that pull the "your girlfriend doesn't have to know" bullshit. oh boy. he does not handle that well.

toxic!yuuta jumps out a little!!

for as polite as he can be, he can get nasty when provoked just right, and someone disrespecting you? his beloved?

first it's a lecture- how dare you suggest such a thing? do you often try to break up people's perfect love lives?

then it's standing up for your honor- do you know how wonderful and lovely my partner is? you couldn't even understand the lengths that their radiance extends to. this part usually gets a little messy. he can get carried away when talking about you.

and lastly, he gets personal. deeply. personal. if they're having a not-so-great hair day, or if their attempts at slipping him their number were particularly weak, he's pouncing on that. he sniffs out weakness like a goddamn Chivalrous Boyfriend Bloodhound and sinking his claws in. i think yuuta could be really mean if he wanted to.

but that's kinda hot tho

INUMAKI TOGE

definitely the funniest of all of them. bcuz if he's getting hit on, he kinda just... stands there.

._.

CAUSE HE LITERALLY CANT SAY ANYTHING ???

sure, he could play it off like he doesn't understand what they're saying, or even type a little note in his phone saying he has a partner... but...

toge definitely prefers to stand there, completely blank faced, and stretch out the discomfort as long as possible.

sometimes people just scowl and walk away, finding it rude

one time tho someone actually started tearing up and completely ran away

(you came back just as it happened, an ice cream cone in each hand and a confused look on your face. but there's no way your sweet, mute boyfriend made a person cry, right?)

[egcdeath]

never go to bed angry

pairing: patrick zweig x reader

summary: under the immense pressure of the suburbs, you and patrick deal with the fallout of an argument. 

word count: 1.9k

warnings: domesticity, PTA, a little angst, mostly fluff, you have a (currently unnamed) child, you’re a little emotionally constipated

author’s note: shoutout to 🫀 anon for breaking my writers block and inspiring this fic! i’m thinking that this will be part of a series of vignettes so let me know if you’d like to be tagged in any future fics! 

Every couple that had been married for a long time always gave you the same piece of advice: Never go to bed angry. 

Though this advice seemed simple, it was much easier said than done. Since your move to suburbia, the den of your home had become somewhat of a second bedroom to Patrick, a place where he could retreat in the aftermath of your arguments.

While you hadn’t argued much while you were hopping from city to city, living out of hotel rooms with your daughter and your athlete husband, the pressure of your small town had changed that completely. Now, your Cold War style arguments felt commonplace, and often left you sleeping alone in a bed that felt far too big for one person. 

Like many recent nights, tonight was one of those nights. You and Patrick had gotten into a small disagreement after he’d been much too outspoken at a PTA meeting, stirring up unnecessary drama with a few other parents for no real reason. That small disagreement spiraled while the two of you drove home, with Patrick insisting that his dispute at the meeting was completely necessary. You strongly disagreed. 

Your disagreement wasn’t made any better once you arrived back at home. The minute you relieved the babysitter of her duties, Patrick went right back to insisting that he was in the right in a situation where he was very obviously in the wrong. He continued to bring this up as he cooked dinner, leaving you no other option but to remove yourself from the situation. 

For the rest of the evening, you kept your negative thoughts to yourself. Clearly, your disagreement wasn’t very productive. 

While you were technically still in an argument, it was by far one of the more tame arguments you’d been in—which was why it came as such a surprise when you stepped out of the shower to find Patrick’s side of the bed vacant and pillowless. 

Disappointed, but not particularly surprised, you sat down in bed and patiently waited for sleep to take you under. 

Turning to your side, you secretly hoped that your daughter would burst into the room, seeking solace in you and her father after having a bad dream. As much as you’d love her company, you knew that this outcome was unlikely, since your daughter was starting to grow out of her phase of coming to you after having a nightmare. 

Part of you wished that Patrick would stroll right back in, ready to argue with you and plead for you to fight for your relationship. Though there was a time in your relationship where most of your arguments ended that way, Patrick hadn’t been doing much of that lately, realizing that you would rather ice him out than confront him with your feelings. With that in mind, you realized that you were likely on your own for the rest of the night. 

You sighed as you curled further into yourself, missing the weight of Patrick’s muscular arm holding onto you possessively and the practically unbearable heat of his body behind you. Even if you ended up separating during the night, it was rare that the two of you didn’t start your bedtime routine with a romantic cuddle. 

You glanced at the door to your bedroom, as if you could produce your husband from thinking about him hard enough. Despite your best efforts, Patrick did not come out to talk to you, nor did your daughter. 

In an abrupt movement, you sat up and got out of bed. You hastily began to walk towards your door, knowing that if you thought too hard about your actions, you might end up backing out. 

You shuffled out of your room, listening for the telltale sound of Patrick’s soft snores. When you didn’t hear them, you kept moving forward, passing your daughter’s bedroom and peeking into the room to find her sleeping peacefully. You reminded yourself that you weren’t just doing this for you, but for the sake of your family. 

The den was your next stop, where Patrick was lounging on his makeshift bed for the night. He looked up at you from a book as if he was surprised, although he’d certainly heard the sound of you making your way through your home. Maybe he thought you were stopping by the fridge for a midnight snack after your tense dinner ended in neither of you eating much. 

“Hey,” you greeted casually, as if you weren’t in the midst of a tense, domestic battle. 

“Hi,” Patrick replied, setting his book down and blinking up at you. You knew him well enough to recognize his confusion. You were never the person to break the ice after an argument, so what you were doing now clearly took him by surprise. 

“Can I sit?” you asked, feeling a little awkward standing above your husband. You slipped your hands into your pockets, hoping that having something to do with your hands would quell your anxieties. 

“Of course,” he said, scooting over on the couch-turned-bed and patting the spot he made for you. 

“I always forget how soft this is. We made a good furniture choice,” you commented as you sat, making polite small talk that easily danced around having to apologize or talk about your feelings. 

“It’s like we picked it knowing that I’d be sleeping on it every other night,” Patrick joked, though you didn’t find it particularly funny. “Sorry,” he followed up once he noticed your lack of laughter. 

“No, it was funny,” you assured him, not wanting to make things any worse. “It was just…” you trailed off. 

“Too soon?” Patrick asked, picking right up where you left off. He always seemed to be better at expressing these things than you were. That was one of the many things you loved about him. 

“Yeah. Are you staying out here tonight?” you asked, hoping your question would tell Patrick that you didn’t want him to sleep in the den without explicitly expressing it. 

“Depends. Do you want me to?” he asked, leaning over and pushing a strand of hair back behind your ear. You leaned into his gentle act of affection. 

“No?” you replied after a bit of hesitation. You didn’t want to pressure Patrick if he was angry enough with you to stay away from you, but you also didn’t want to be alone. 

“Honey,” Patrick began softly. “Just be honest with me. Do you really want me to sleep in here or come back to our room?”

You blinked at him, unsure of why it was so difficult for you to just be forthcoming with your emotions. It was always so much easier to express yourself when Patrick anticipated your needs. Surely, he knew that you wanted to sleep next to him. You always did. 

“You should come back. If you want,” you added the last part abruptly, hoping you weren’t pressuring him one way or another. 

“What do you want?” he pressed you further. 

Just as you opened your mouth to respond, you heard the familiar pitter-patter of your daughter’s feet. The two of you turned your attention to the girl, who was currently clutching a stuffed animal and rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. 

“Did you guys build a pillow fort without me?” she asked, sounding a little offended as she approached the two of you. 

“Never! We were just about to invite you,” you lied easily, somewhat appreciative for the interruption in the midst of Patrick trying to teach you how to be direct. 

“Uh-huh,” she said, unbelieving as she crawled into your lap. Even as young as she was, she’d already taken on her father’s sass. 

“We’d never make a pillow fort without you, Bug,” Patrick told her, moving to sit next to the two of you. 

“Clearly, you just did,” she said with a pout. Her theatrics reminded you of Patrick, and how he always seemed to have his emotions written all over his face. You broke into a soft smile as you thought about the resemblances between your beloved husband and daughter. “It’s not funny, mommy.”

“I’m sorry. You’re right, it’s not,” you assured her. “How about this: We can go back to sleep tonight, and tomorrow we’ll all work together and make the most amazing pillow fort ever. Deal?”

“Hmm…” she pondered, putting her hand to her chin as she pretended to think about it, though she’d already made up her mind.  “Deal.”

As soon as you began to move your daughter off your lap, Patrick swooped in and grabbed her, picking her up and standing up at the same time. “You and Mr. Teddy are gonna have so much fun tomorrow,” he told her as he carried her to her room, your daughter giggling as Patrick booped her nose. 

“What are we gonna do?” she asked. 

“Maybe another tea party? What do you guys wanna do?” he asked, their voices fading as they made it back to her room.

You figured that you would take this opportunity to gather Patrick’s bedtime belongings back to your bedroom. If Patrick really wanted to know what you wanted, it couldn’t get more straightforward than you wordlessly moving all of his items. 

As you walked back to your bedroom with blankets and pillows in hand, you caught a quick glimpse into your daughter’s room, where Patrick was quietly talking to your very sleepy child. You wanted to linger, to watch him and remind yourself of how special your family was, but you decided against staring for too long. 

Still, it was an extremely cute sight. Overwhelmed with many emotions, you felt grateful that you picked Patrick to start a family with, despite some of the drama that the two of you stirred up. 

When Patrick returned to your bedroom, you were fluffing out his pillow on his side of the bed. He opened his mouth to speak, surely preparing to ask you about his moved belongings. Not wanting to deal with that conversation, you beat him to the punch with a simple, “C’mere.”

He didn’t need to be told twice, as he obediently climbed into bed with you. He looked at you expectantly, as if he was waiting for the next directions that would leave your mouth. Unfortunately for him and fortunately for you, you weren’t in the mood for words. 

You practically launched yourself at Patrick as you pulled him into a hug, tense PTA meeting, car ride, and dinner completely forgotten as you melted into his solid embrace. When the two of you slotted together like puzzle pieces, it was hard to remember why you were mad at him in the first place. 

Maybe you should talk about your argument, or how difficult it was for you to talk about your feelings, or how your husband’s outspokenness at meetings was beginning to take a toll on some of your friendships with other moms in the neighborhood—but none of that really mattered to you once you were back in Patrick’s arms. 

“I love you,” he told you as you buried your nose into your neck, soothed by his familiar scent and solid, comforting body. 

It was exactly what you needed to hear, a reassurance that at the end of the day, he would still be by your side, no matter the antics you’d put each other through. 

“I love you too.”

It wasn’t addressing the elephant in the room, but in that moment, it was enough.

[starlightazriel]

bee 7

desc: best friends>lovers, azriel au (fem reader)

warnings: 18+, fluff, SMUT!!, fingering, raw dogg, oral, light bondage, blindfold, overstim, reader being a lil insecure, teeny tiny foot fetish (cmon we all know az is a freak freak), lil adolescent fluff , drug addiction, (was rereading and feel like i should add kat insinuating someone's on drugs bc they are skinny i know this isn't accurate she's just being a bitch to jab at az basically saying anyone else besides bee that az would be with would be a custy lol)

other parts can be found on my masterlist under azriel

wc: 7.9k

seven

Kat and Mor had both insisted this time, that I get ready at Kats house for my date with Azriel. Date. I had been going out of my mind with nerves since he asked me, rushing around to every store yesterday looking for the right thing to wear.

He hadn't changed his mind, which I had been afraid of... No, he had actually told me lastnight that he couldn't wait, he had said that just before I went over to Kats for the slumber party she had planned for the three of us since Mor was staying at her house. I had been a blushing mess when he stared me down in my pajamas in the hall before I left.

I still felt like I was in a dream... After wanting Az for so long I was just waiting for him to change his mind or something, it didn't feel real. "I think I might pass away," I muttered quietly as I stared back at my reflection in the mirror, yesterday, the long silky white dress had felt like a good idea, tonight... Not so much.

"You're going to be fine," Mor promised as she did some final touches on my hair, she looked drop dead gorgeous, I felt just plain and stupid next to her. It reminded me again that Azriel had too many options, why would he want me?

"You couldn't be more prepped you have nothing to be nervous about," Kat giggles softly, glancing over at us, she was still working on her makeup, clad in a skimpy black dress similar to Mors dark purple one. My cheeks reddened again, they had forced me to go get waxed bright and early, insisting that it was the best way to get ready for Azriel if I wanted to seal the deal and make him completely fall in love. I had questioned many of my decisions while I whimpered in pain when the woman at the spa had been ripping my pubes out.

The two of them together were a force to be reckoned with, because the wax was followed by a pedicure and a manicure and then a blowout from the hair salon across the street. I was already exhausted and the night hadn't even began. I had been telling them all day, that all of this was unnecessary that Az and I had known eachother for so long I didn't need to do all of this extra stuff to impress him. He already knew me. They insisted that this wasn't just for Azriel, it was for me, to help boost my confidence. I had tried to not take it as an insult, did I really come off as that insecure?

"I just- I don't know, I've been waiting for this for so long... And now I feel like I might just throw up," I breathed out pressing my hand to my stomach as I stared at myself in the mirror, I glanced at the clock again, and winced because Azriel would be here any moment. "I mean, have you guys even seen some of the women he goes for?! I'm like- I don't even know like the fucking pillsbury dough boy next to them. He's always going with supermodel looking women," I stared at my reflection again, letting out a heavy sigh.

"You're gorgeous Bee, shut it," Mor grins and fixes my hair one last time. "Plus," Kat tacks on after her, "They're only that skinny because they are sniffing and popping god knows what," Kat scrunched her nose a little with distaste. I looked down, I hated when they brought up Az's habits, or anything that related to them.

I clutched my little bag in my hand, feeling my phone buzz inside of it. My stomach flipped again and I swallowed hard, pulling my phone free from the little purse. im outside Short and sweet, typical Azriel. My stomach churned and twisted. "He's here?" She asks, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes, I'll see you guys there. Please don't watch us from the window," I grimaced, glancing out the window, my breath caught in my throat seeing Azriel leaning up against a black SUV, I figured Rhys must have got him a driver for tonight. He looked so, damn, good. He'd got a hair cut since last night, all his jewelry was on display, tanned skin gleaming in the setting sun, smoking of course, looked like a pre roll from here. My heart skipped a few beats in my chest, my stomach feeling like molten lava.

"I can't make any promises," Mor giggled softly, Kat along with her and I glanced back at the two of them who were a little too close for comfort. I briefly wondered if they had ever hooked up. Wouldn't have surprised me. I narrowed my eyes at their laughter, not finding anything funny.

"Okay I'll see you later," I repeat, my knees feeling weak as I left Kats apartment, into the warm evening air. Azriel's eyes were instantly on me, and he smiled, grinned actually as his eyes raked over my body, briefly settling on my nipples, the rings making them visible under the thin fabric of the dress, I had picked some heart ones out for tonight, I hoped Azriel would like them... If we even got that far.

I felt my face heating up, Az must be laughing at me in his head. I looked ridiculous, like I always did when Kat dressed me up like a doll.

"You look gorgeous," he was blushing now too, his throat bobbed slightly as he took my hand and pulled me in for a half hug, his large hand pressing into my lower back. I felt like I might pass out, like my knees might give out on me completely, they were already wobbling.

"So do you," I blurted, and the color on my cheeks deepened, causing him to let out a throaty laugh. It wasnt a lie, even though it sounded dumb. He was so damn beautiful, sexy, handsome... He looked like a tattooed god in the golden hour lighting.

"Do I?" he asked, his eyes twinkling with amusement. I was starting to wonder how I was going to survive the night, it had been, what, a few minutes? And I was already soaking wet, my body absolutely begging for him. I wondered if he could see it in my eyes.

I could tell he was a little nervous or maybe as much as me, despite how cool he was playing it.

"You always do," I had the fight the urge to fan myself, I was getting hotter by the moment. He just shook his head, his hair shaking with the motion, still smiling down at me before he gestured to the door and opened it for me to get in the back seat. It was quite roomy, definitely one of Rhys' family cars, it was modified on the inside, the seats created an L shape in the back of the car. I took a seat in one of them, taking in the small space. My lips parted slightly in surprise at the bouquet of green apple blow pops that was resting on the other seat, a Chanel ribbon wrapped around them with a small box next to it. Okay, I was definitely melting now, it was so hot in here, or maybe it was just me.

Azriel smiled sheepishly at my expression as he got into the car, picking up the lollipop bouquet and the small jewelry box, his eyes looking shy, this was new, he was never shy. Mysterious, quiet, maybe even a little RBF, but he never looked shy. "I just wanted to say thank you, for coming with me," his voice was quiet as the car began rolling forward now that we were both settled into the back seat. "And happy early birthday, I didnt forget," his lips twitched slightly as he extended the small box and lollipop bouquet. The fact that he remembered what we had first ever bonded over, it made my chest swell a little bit. Made me long for him even more. In so many more ways than just the physical.

"Az- you didnt have to-" my mouth felt so dry, I felt like I had lost the ability to speak. With everything going on recently, I myself had almost forgotten my twenty third birthday coming up next week.

"I wanted to," he pressed, leaning back as he waited, watching me expectantly. My fingers shook slightly as opened the box, a little breath escaping my lips at the sight of the little gold and pearl Chanel hoops that he had picked out for me. They looked expensive and it made my cheeks burn brighter. This definitely wasnt like Azriel, I couldnt remember a time he'd ever bought a woman jewelry. But he bought some for me. "They match your dress," he mused, and I felt his eyes raking over me again.

"Azriel- These are so pretty- I can't- They must have cost like at least three tattoos, I can't accept these-" I fumbled over my words, feeling naked under his gaze, he just shook his head, smiling a little bit. He looked, pleased.

"Let me put them on for you," he mumbled, his eyes boring into me as he leaned forward, so close, now. My breath hitched, his scent filling my nose, making my heart beat just a little bit faster. He brushed his finger over my neck as it travelled up to my ear, my toes curled at the feeling of his rough fingers against my soft skin. Carefully he used his other hand to hold the stud in place before popping the back off of my current earring. Azriel repeated the same motions on the other side, his tongue poking slightly between his lips in concentration. I watched his jaw flex slightly, my body felt so tense, my brain begged me for more, begged me to jump on him in the back of Rhys' family car.

He carefully took out one of the hoops and his fingers brushed my skin again as he clicked the first one on, being careful not to pinch my skin. I shivered a little bit feeling goosebumps rise on every inch of my body, Azriel smirked, his eyes meeting with mine before he carefully put the other earring on. Definitely going to pass out. It felt like my heart stopped every time our eyes met. "Just like how I imagined," he leans back to get a good look at me, licking his lips, heat pooled in my core, my toes curled against my will.

"Oh Az," I breathed out, hardly recognizing my reflection in his phone, he had pulled it out with the front camera facing me so I could see my new earrings. "You really shouldn't have," I breathed again, my cheeks were red, lips pinker than usual and puffy from how much I was biting them, my eyes were hazy with lust and everything else I felt for him. I was glowing a little bit, I looked... Nice. He cleared his throat, his eyes softening into something else besides just the lust that burned on the surface of both of our gazes, something deeper.

"But I did though," he said softly, and his eyes flicked down to my bouquet of green apple blow pops. "You better share later," he raised an eyebrow, smirking at me. "I didn't steal them this time I paid for those," he chuckled quietly. My heart warmed again at the memory. This was really happening, my Az... Taking me on a date. He was so charming this was the Azriel I knew, this was my Az.

"Of course I'll share with you Az, how couldn't I?" I laughed and squeezed the bouquet a little tighter, my heart felt so big, my chest felt so warm, I had never felt so whole. He smiled at me and just looked, savored every inch of me as if he too had been waiting for a while. Even though it wasnt nearly as long as I'd been waiting for him. I looked back at him, appreciating every inch of him, the few freckles that dusted his nose, making him look just slightly more boyish, his burning hazel eyes that could see right through me, his kissable lips, strong but still just soft enough jaw....

Something flashed in his eyes as if he remembered something. "Can I ask you something about Eris?" he says casually, but there was a certain edge I could feel in his tone. My stomach flipped slightly, and I leaned back.

"Sure," I nodded, nervously playing with the ribbon he had tied around my lollipop bouquet. I had no idea what to prepare for, had no clue what Az was about to ask, it had my stomach churning nervously.

"Did you.. Did Eris eat you out?" his tone was still even, question direct and forward as if he had every right to ask me that. My eyes widened at his bluntness. Jealousy?

"Azriel!" My cheeks blazed and I slapped his arm, my other hand tightly gripping my bouquet. He didnt say anything, only raised a brow expectantly still waiting for my answer, not a smile in sight. "No, he didnt-"

"Okay," he cuts me off there, smiling sheepishly at me now. "Ever since I walked in on you- Ive been obsessed with tasting you, I just had to know," he admits, licking his lips as if his mouth was watering at the thought. He had no shame, he wasnt embarrassed that he had been thinking about me like that, no, he was enjoying watching me squirm with every single confession.

My cheeks burned as I thought about him, thinking about tasting me. It had my tongue feeling heavy in my mouth, like it was weighing on the back of my throat, making it harder to breathe. Ive been obsessed with tasting you. The thought almost embarrassed me, Az wanted to taste me, so bad that he had been obsessed with the thought.

"You alright Bee?" his eyes were twinkling with amusement, and arousal. He was realizing his effect on me, how down bad I truly was for him.

"I just- Its hot in here-" And it was, my legs involuntarily squeezed together, Azriel didnt miss it.

"You have no idea what youre in for tonight Bee."

-

I didnt know how I had ended up here, a few celebratory glasses of champagne, admiring Azriels and some other artists works, a few hors d'oeuvres, and I was now on Azriels lap behind the shops booth.

I was a hot mess for sure, everyone in our group was giving us glances, maybe in disbelief. I didnt blame them, Azriels open PDA was almost alarming. We hadn't kissed yet, but I was on his lap, his large fingers were gripped tightly around my hips, and my body was practically buzzing with need for him. Covered in goosebumps, my pussy swollen and throbbing in the little white lace panties I had selected. At this point, after spending the entire night with Az, being on his arm all night like he promised, it was practically painful not to have him inside of me. Why weren't we going home yet? There had been fleeting, subtle touches all night, whispers in my ear that sent my toes curling in my high heels. Id wondered if he'd noticed that, he'd been stealing looks down at my freshly pedicured feet all night.

He was rock hard, I could feel his cock through his pants completely my thin dress not adding a thing to the barrier, I could feel him pressing against me, he felt so big. I was barely able to focus on anything else that was going on, the conversations they were having, that somehow Azriel was apart of. I didnt know how he was even able to engage. No one seemed to notice I hadn't said anything in ages, or if they did they didnt bring it to attention.

"I really am proud of you Az, this shits amazing for business," Rhys hadn't shut up about how pleased he was since the final voting had ended and the hosts had announced that they had won both categories Artist of the Year and Tattoo Parlor of the Year. Azriel was being modest, but they won because of him. Because of his talent.

"It was really nothing," he says casually, his voice was still low and gravelly like it had been all night, I wondered if it was because he wanted me as much as I wanted him. It sure felt like it. He snaked his arm around me, spreading his hand across my lower stomach and pulling me further onto him, my legs spread slightly with the movement, my back falling flush against his chest. I let my head tilt back onto his shoulder, savoring the feeling. The bulge of his cock brushed lightly against my aching pussy, just barely, enough to drive me more mad and I cursed the stupid dress for getting in the way of me feeling him more. Should have worn leggings.

"Youre being modest," Cass laughs and glances over, he blushed when he noticed the way that Az was holding me and he quickly looked away. I blushed too, maybe this really was too much for the setting we were in, I couldn't bring myself to get up. I feel Az shrug behind me, his hand still pressing into my stomach, it felt like he was burning a hole straight through my dress.

I don't even hear what Rhys says next because my senses are reduced to Azriels lips brushing against my earlobe, the feeling of his hot breath on my skin. "I have a surprise for you," he whispers into my ear, the feeling sends more heat settling between my thighs, so dizzy.

"What?" I manage, my brain feeling so foggy, it was like Azriel was the only thing I'd ever thought of, the world around practically didnt exist. He chuckled, the sound sent more shivers down my spine.

"I said," his other hand slid over the top of my thigh, gently rubbing through the thin fabric. I suppressed a moan, my eyelids involuntarily fluttering shut. "I have a surprise for you," he repeated, the feeling of his voice against my ear making me squirm in his lap. "Bee you gotta stop that," he hissed softly under his breath, his arm tightening, pressing me further into him as if to still me. "There's people around," he mutters, my eyes flutter open again as if remembering for the first time, I make eye contact with Mor first and then Kat, I grimace at both of them, because they were watching us, giggling like school girls. I knew I wasnt going to live this down, right now I didnt care, nothing could ruin my bliss.

"Can we please go now Az? Ive been soo patient," I turned my head slightly, his nose and lips brushed against my cheek, I fought the urge to grind my hips against him, and failed miserably when I imagined his mouth between my legs and his nose pressed against my clit. He cursed quietly under his breath and sighed, this had to be torturing him as much as it was me.

"Think we'll skip drinks," Az said casually and he stood up, pulling me to stand with him, my body still flush with his, my cheeks reddened as I felt everyones eyes on us. "Bees tired, gotta get her back, you don't mind Rhys, do you?"

Rhys eyes flashed with something I didnt recognize as he observed Az and I. I looked away, feeling mortified, because obviously with the way we had been all over each other all night... Everyone knew what we were really going to do. The thought sent nerves flipping my stomach, suddenly I regretted rushing him. "That's fine," Rhys smirked, exchanging a knowing glance with Cass who looked like he was holding his tongue. "You've done enough Az, you two should go enjoy your night,"

"Id hug you for being so damn good bro, but I don't want your little chub rubbing my leg," Cass snickered earning an initial glare from Azriel but it turned into a smirk. My cheeks burned, I wished I could fall into the floor.

"Yours might be thicker Cass, but mine will always be longer," Az shrugs, making Cassian laugh from his perch on the stool he was sitting on.

"You guys are disgusting," Mor shakes her head in disbelief. "Now I remember why I moved, no one wants to listen to a bunch of guys fighting over who's dick is bigger, y/n I suggest you take him away now before Rhys joins,"

"Mor everyone knows mines the biggest, I don't even bother arguing with them anymore," Rhys laughs and waves her off, cocky and arrogant as ever. My cheeks burned, I didn't bother to listen to her response.

Azriels hand found mine and interlaced our fingers as we bid our goodbyes to everyone, my chest swelled at the gesture. Az didnt forget to thank the hosts on the way out, I marveled at him, admiring how professional he could be, no one on the outside would ever know the demons he faced unless he let them.

"Thank you for that, Bee," he says when we are finally alone, the car was waiting just a little ways down, my hand felt slightly sweaty in his, my heart already pounding in my chest with anticipation for what was going to come. He squeezed a little, as if sensing my nerves, "I really think, with you on my arm," he blushed, as if his own words surprised him, he swallowed before finishing, "I could do anything." My cheeks blazed at his admittance, my stomach doing somersaults as he glanced over at me under his thick lashes, his eyes still hazy and lust filled, but soft too, like he finally returned those tender feelings I had for him for so long.

"Of-of course Az," it seemed like I hadn't been able to form a proper thought or sentence all night. Being with Azriel... It was mind numbing madness. I had never imagined I would be this much of a blubbering idiot. He didnt say anything else as he lead me back to the car we had arrived in.

"You didnt forget about your surprise did you?" he asks, leaning back into the back seat, Az had immediately pulled the partition when we got into the car which hadn't done anything to settle my nerves.

"Azriel where are we even going?" I ask softly, glancing out the window, we definitely weren't headed back to the apartment.

"You'll see," he said softly and leaned over, closer to me, I turned to face him, our lips nearly brushing. "I've been waiting to do this all night," he gently slides his thumb over my jaw before curling his fingers into the hair on the nape of my neck, my core was molten, my entire body screaming for him.

"What are you doing to me?" I breathe out dumbly, causing a chuckle to rumble through his chest. He pulls me closer, our foreheads resting gently on one another's now.

"I've been asking myself the same thing about you since I walked in on you in my room," his lips brushed mine as he spoke, his eyes burning into mine, we were so so close. My heart pounded against my chest, "I can't stop thinking about you Bee, every time I get myself off I think about you. I'm going crazy, I can't stop thinking about what your little pussy tastes like, about making you moan for me," my breath hitches slightly at his vulgarity, his voice was low and gravelly making my toes curl. He finally pressed his lips against mine, his tongue slipping past my lips. I kissed him back my head spinning with the feeling, finally, finally he was kissing me again.

"Az I've wanted this for so long," I hum against him, feeling delerious, I let out a soft involuntary whimper as his rough, scarred fingers slowly slide over the back of my ankle and up my calf.

"I'm sorry for not seeing what was right in front of me this whole time Bee," he whispers, trailing kisses down my neck, my eyes threatened to roll back into my head. "Should have been us from the very beginning," he slowly kisses over the tops of my breasts, his fingers tightening gently around the back of my knee. "I should have taken your virginity, been your first boyfriend, I should have showed all of this to you a long time ago," he breathed out, sliding his hand to the front of my knee and up the top of my thigh toward the place I needed him most. I exhaled, tilting my head back, my back arched slightly as his fingers brushed against my clothed cunt. "I'm gonna make up for all that though," he mumbled gruffly before slipping my panties aside, I gasped at the feeling of Azriels scarred fingers on my soft bare pussy lips for the first time.

"Az," I whimpered quietly, my hips grinding against his fingers, he cursed under his breath, slowly sliding his middle finger into my opening. I gasped, gripping his shoulders, "Azriel," I breathed out again as he wiggled his long finger inside of me in a come hither motion, hitting my g spot over and over.

"Fuck you're soaking for me," he breathed out, sucking the skin over my collar bone lightly, the palm of his hand ground against my clit as he expertly finger fucked me without even pulling his fingers in and out. My dress was pushed up past my knees, my breathing heavy and ragged as I held onto him, every bump or crack in the road that the car hit made me moan harder. He didn't stop until I came, cursing quietly under his breath as my body shook lightly. He had already made me cum more than anyone else I had to ever been with, and we hadn't even fucked yet. I tried to ignore that his skills probably came from lots of practice. "We're here baby," he slowly pulled his finger from my pussy, a whoosh of breath left my lips at the new feeling of emptiness. My head spun as he sucked my release off of his finger, his eyes closing as he did, humming softly as if he had been waiting so long to know what I tasted like. It made my mouth go dry, made the breath catch in my throat.

-

So damn good. She tasted so good. Azriel couldn't wait to get her upstairs, bury his face between her legs and fully taste her. He opens his eyes again, licking his lips at the sight of her after orgasm hazy eyes, wet lips, flushed cheeks and chest. "Come on," he nods toward the car door.

"Where are we?" she manages to get out scrambling to straighten her dress out, her brows crinkling together slightly, it made his heart swell, made him smile.

"I told you I had a surprise," he shrugged easily and opened the door to the car and held it for her, watching with endearment as she collected the bouquet of lollipops he had gifted her and the small box that had contained the earrings. He smiled as her eyes widened looking up at the tall fancy hotel before them, despite how late it was, a doorman opened the door to let them inside. She waited in a cushy lobby chair while he checked in, and he couldn't help but keep glancing back at her.

"Az this is ridiculous seriously. This room must have cost a fortune," she says as they finally entered the room on one of the top floors of the hotel. He let the door shut behind them, his eyes scanning over the room, a king bed, amazing view, a bottle of champagne on ice in a golden colored bucket, two glasses beside it.

"Rhys asked me what I wanted yesterday for all of my hard work on the event, think he felt bad cus he kinda laid into me the other day. I think he expected me to ask for money... I asked him to get me a room in the best hotel in the city for tonight," he smiled shyly, his cheeks growing red with the admittance. It was embarrassing hearing it out loud, he didn't know how to feel about his behavior. All of this was new for him, and with Bee? He didn't have time to process anyway, it all felt too good, too right, being here with her.

"Az... You didn't have to do that," she twists to look at him, her eyes glowing, her cheeks just as red as his. Azriel knew she wasn't used to seeing him so vulnerable, not for years at least, maybe once... Long ago, when his family was still around.

"I wanted to. I wanted tonight to be.. Special," he almost couldn't believe himself, couldn't believe the words coming out of his own mouth. He couldn't recall ever doing anything like this for anyone. He had never really been one for romantics. Lately he was starting to reconsider it, the look on Bees face made him feel so whole inside. And she deserved this, she deserved a night to be spoiled and shown that he did see her now too. He saw everything, saw the way she had been there for him all those years, stood by him, no matter how many fucked up phases he went through she was always there.

"It already was Azriel," she breaths, twisting around to look at him again, she was standing in front of the bed now, her eyes were darting around nervously, her arms wrapping self consciously around her stomach. "You didn't have to waste your bonus on this," she mumbled softly, her cheeks still so pink as if she thought she wasn't worth any of this, little did she know she was worth so much more.

"Don't be shy now Bee, it's not so long ago you were a moaning mess in my bed, I've already seen you naked," his eyes travel over her, stopping for a moment at the tops of her breasts, pushed up by her arms against her body. His cock was aching, so fucking hard... It had been all night, he had been adjusting himself all night to hide his massive hard on. He unbuttoned his shirt and shrugged it off of his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor, his head eyes never leaving her, blazing into her skin.

"But Az I-" she starts, he could see her breath catch, her chest rising and falling. Goosebumps already covered her skin and he hadn't even touched her yet since they entered the room.

"Shh.. Strip," he commands softly unzipping his pants because he couldn't take how tight they had gotten any longer, his cock had been aching all night. He sight with relief at the release of tension, but still didn't pull his pants fully off, waiting and watching her. She blinked, exhaling softly, her arms slowly dropped to her sides but she didn't move to slip her dress off. How could she not see how beautiful she was? "Go on," he coaxed, his jaw flexing as his eyes raked over every inch of her.

"Az... I'm like- I can't just... Strip," her voice caught in her throat and he smiled at her, his eyes darkening as he took in the sight of her.

"I'm going to teach you that you can do a lot of things you think you can't do," his voice was husky, laced with desire as he took a step toward her. "Go on Bee, take it off for me," he breathed out and she blushed deeper, closing her eyes and leaning down to pull her dress completely over her head. Azriel let out a shaky breath at the sight before him, only her heels and her white lace panties remained, the tight fabric showing the outline of her cunt. His eyes rest on her nipples then, his mouth watering at the sight of her nipple rings cute little hearts around her perfect little nipples. She tries to cover herself again, he sucks his teeth, shaking his head at her and closes the distance between them holding her arms at her sides so she couldn't cover her body.

"You look so good to me," he assured, knowing how she could be, the phase she went through that one summer where she wouldn't eat. He had picked up the pieces, taken care of her like she had done for him so many times.

She blushed again, looking down at her feet, he followed her gaze, cute little french tips that he loved so much. His cock throbbed again at the sight. He grabbed her chin, tilting her head up so her eyes would meet his. "I mean it," his eyes bore into hers, he let his emotions show, let his walls come down a bit. He wanted her to know how much she truly meant to him. "You are everything Bee," he slides his hands over her ass and the bottom of her thighs scooping her up and placing her on the bed, he let out a heavy breath at the sight of her on the bed.

"Az-" she breathed, her eyes widening as she looked up at him, his eyes were dark with lust as he untied the ribbon around her blow pop bouquet, the lollipops all falling onto the table with thudding sounds.

"Do you trust me?" he asks, his gaze not wavering as he looked down into her eyes past them, as if he was looking into her soul. It made her body wriggle beneath him.

"Of course I do Az but-" she swallowed her words, her breath catching in her throat as he put one of the sleeping masks that had been provided by the hotel over her eyes covering her world in darkness. "Oh.." she breathed out softly, her back slightly arching as he slid his hands up her arms and tied her wrists with the ribbon, tying them to the headboard of the bed. He figured she couldn't be worried about what her body looked like if she couldn't see. He stood back for a minute, marveling at her, watching her breasts rise and fall with each breath admiring the high heels she was still wearing and her wet cunt, soaking through the fabric of her panties.

All tied up and blind folded in front of him... He had never seen anything so beautiful. Her arms were pinned above her head, her chest on full display for him. He let out a throaty long breath before he knelt on the bed in front of her, carefully undoing the straps on her heels, his rough fingers brushing the soft skin on her ankles, as he pulled them off and discarded them on the floor one by one, she whimpered, pulling her hands against the restraint. "I really have been so blind," he muttered before pressing a kiss to the sole of her foot, her back arched again, a small whimper escaping her lips.

"Az.. Please.." She begged, her voice so needy and desperate it was driving him even more crazy. "I've been wanting this for so long..." she whimpered, the sound made his cock twitch in his pants.

He placed more open mouthed kisses on the soles of her feet, and the insides of her ankles humming softly to himself at the sweet smell of her skin. She was practically shaking already, he could see how wet she was already, her juices soaking through her panties. "Need to get those off," he mumbled softly to himself reaching forward and gripping her panties, tugging them down her legs, his fingers sliding all the way down the outsides of her legs as he pulled them off.

Why had he denied them both this for so long? He couldn't understand how he had been so blind.

An involuntary groan left his lips at the sight of her bare cunt, freshly waxed, smooth, glistening wet with her arousal and her first release in the car. "You are perfect," he breathed before he finally gave in to his desire to taste her, no matter how much he wanted to keep teasing her he had to have his mouth on her now.

He placed an open mouthed kiss over her nipple, sucking her pierced flesh into his mouth, making her moan again and causing him to grind his achingly hard cock in his pants against the bed.

"You've got nothing to be insecure about, you're so fucking perfect," he moans softly, wrapping his mouth around her other pierced nipple. "You're so lucky you got these done before you were mine," he muttered against her skin, sending shivers up her spine.

"Yours?" she asks breathlessly, her lips parting in surprise, he wished he could see her eyes, wished she could see the way he was looking at her. He figured it was probably better she didn't anyway. Even if they were kind of past the point of going back now.

"Yes, mine," he mumbles, pressing more soft kisses to her skin, between her breasts and down the middle of her stomach to her belly button. "All mine," he didn't have time to think about whether or not he would regret any of it later. He just needed her to know how he felt about her, how every touch and kiss made him want to claim her even more.

"I've been waiting to hear you say that for so long," she breathed, and he could see the bottom of her cheeks redden under the sleeping mask at her confession. His chest tightened slightly, he just hoped he could live up to her expectations. To whatever standards she held for a relationship. He figured giving up his event bonus was a good start, he wouldn't think about how much cocaine he could have bought with the cash Rhys must have spent on this room. It didn't even matter, the look on Bees face when she'd seen the view had made it so worth it.

"Now I'll show you," he grunted quietly, pressing another wet kiss just below her belly button. She shivered again and he couldn't help himself, he placed his hand on her inner thigh, spreading gently and he slowly rubbed his thumb on the outside of her dripping wet cunt, his rough skin gliding easily.

She whimpered, pleaded, begged him for more.

He was slow, gentle as he licked up and down between her folds, weaving his tongue in and out.

-

It was almost blinding, the feeling of Azriels lips and tongue on my throbbing swollen pussy was making stars dance in my eyes. With every suck, lick, flick of his tongue my hips rotated, ground against his tongue, I tugged, trying to get my hands free so I could run my fingers through his tousled hair, pull his face onto my pussy, wrap my legs around his head. The ribbon didn't budge, the more I fought it only made my wrists ache worse, I barely noticed it as my pussy pulsed with each mini orgasm that shuttered through my body.

I didn't know how long it had been. I couldn't see the clock with my sight cut off from the sleeping mask. The darkness only seemed to make me feel everything else so much more. I needed his cock, I needed it so fucking bad. I needed to feel him fill me up, my pussy ached for him, I felt like I had never needed anything more in my life.

I didn't know it was possible for a man to make me feel like this. Of course. Of course it was Az. I broke out in another soft cry, my hips trying to pull away from his relentless licks and sucks, my clit was so damn sensitive. Orgasm after orgasm, I was about to start begging him to stop, it felt too good, I almost couldn't take it anymore.

"I need your cock," I whined again, pulling relentlessly at the ribbons biting into my wrists. Az had tied them tight enough they wouldn't budge. I wasn't even surprised anymore at the lack of shyness, the total lack of self control that I now had underneath his absolute trance.

"Be patient," he chuckled softly against me, the vibration of it sending another soft whimper through my body, he made little circles with his tongue, sending me writhing again he held me still flicking his tongue on the sensitive skin between my cunt and my ass.

It felt like it had been hours that he had been eating my pussy. Realistically it had probably been more like forty five minutes, but I had no clue with this damn blind fold on. My body was shaking, weak, spent, and he hadn't even started fucking me yet. Azriel had been talking me through every single orgasm, big and small. 'Good girl,' 'Cum for me,' 'Look at that pretty little cunt leaking for me.' His voice had been so low and gravelly each time, that husky tone that was new to me and definitely this hungry, lust filled Azriel was my new favorite version.

"I can't be patient anymore Az, please, let me see you," I begged, my legs kicking slightly, as I exercised any freedom I still had.

"You have been a good girl so far, keep it up and I might untie you too," he chuckles lowly, slipping the sleeping mask off of my eyes, they were already open, wide open, I let out another whimper at the sight of him. So gorgeous my heart almost stopped, Azriel...

My Azriel. Mine.

His cheeks were flushed, his lips slightly puffy from how he had been eating me up for so long, his nose and his cheeks still glistening with me, his hair was a mess, falling over his eyes a little bit. His eyes. They were so dark with desire his normally hazel eyes almost looked black, I knew he needed me as much as I needed him, my stomach churned, heat pooling at the base of my belly all over again.

"Az please I need you," I repeated another small whimper leaving my lips, I couldn't believe I had been reduced to begging. I'd have time to be embarrassed, right now, I didn't care about anything besides him and I. Finally knowing what it felt like for him to fuck me after all the years I'd fucked myself and pictured his face, his hands, his shirtless body by the pool.

"Oh fuck baby," he groaned quietly, finally tugging off the rest of his clothes, his hard tanned cock slapped his stomach, precum leaking deliciously from his tip. I whimpered at the sight of him, tugging at my restraints again, the ribbon was starting to burn, it felt like it was cutting my skin, I knew it would bother me later but now I didn't have a care in the world.

He untied me as if he knew it must be starting to hurt, or maybe my wrists were turning red, I didn't know because he wrapped his large hand around both of my wrists, replacing the ribbon with them, pinning me to the bed. He held my hands so I couldn't put my hands on him, I desperately wanted to, knowing Az he wanted to be in control.

My back arched as he used his free hand to rub the tip of his cock slowly up and down my opening, the anticipation made my legs shake.

"Mm gonna fuck you raw baby that's my pussy," he gently slaps his cock against my cunt, making me cry out, my body flinching.

Finally, he slowly pushed into me, every inch making me melt deeper into the bed, my body falling into a blissful state. "Oh Az," I breathed out against his lips when our bodies finally connected completely. Our eyes met, and each thrust felt like him telling me how much he loved me, how much he needed me, appreciated me for standing by him.

I didn't hold back, I let my voice ring out, calling his name as he fucked me into absolute oblivion. He was panting over me, little beads of sweat forming on his brow as he concentrated.

"Mm you're so fucking tight," his gravelly voice slurred, his eyes burning into mine as he slammed his cock into me over and over.

"Az yes," I moaned loudly, my entire body shaking with another mind numbing orgasm, my toes curled, throat felt completely dry as I moaned again. Tears of pleasure welled up in the corners of my eyes as I came again on his cock.

"Oh fuck," he breathed, his thrusts becoming more sloppy and he came inside me. I didn't care about that either, I instantly scratched and clawed at his back when he finally let my hands free, trying to pull him closer, deeper as he came.

I lifted my eyes, staring into his as he rode out his own orgasm, my lids felt so heavy with the exhaustion of our activities, I could have fell asleep right there when he finally stilled, his forehead resting on mine.

I had never known sex could be like this. So blissful. So intimate. I felt like I knew Azriel on another level... And I knew I would remember this night for the rest of my life.

"I-I-" Azriel started, his face flushed as our eyes burned into each others and he opened his mouth again, I held my breath, my heart felt like it was standing still, listening with me. "I... I'm glad we did this, thank you for coming out with me," he breathed, my cheeks warmed, I knew he was going to say something else and held it back.

We had said it before, told each other that we loved each other, for me it had always meant something more.

"I love you Bee, happy birthday," my heart stopped as he grinned at me like he always did, I had just blown out the seventeen candles on my birthday cake. Our friends surrounded us, my cheeks reddened when I noticed Rhys watching us.

"Love you too Az," I breathed my heart feeling like it would leap out of my chest. I wished I had the courage to tell him. Wished I had the courage to say how much I loved him as more than a friend, how much he truly meant to me.

He gave me a wrapped squishy package and I tore the paper open, my heart nearly stopping as I held the hoodie up in the air.

He made it, I could tell, it was black with bits of fabric sewn onto it to make a bee. And a bees shadow. My stomach churned, my cheeks warming again.

"Az I love it so much," my breath felt like it was caught in my throat.

"I'm glad you like it, happy seventeenth," he smiled sheepishly and turned back around toward some girl Cassian had brought. My chest tightened.

Maybe someday I would get the courage to tell him.

-

a/n: IM SVCREAMING AND CRYINF AND DROOLING

taglist: @smalljasper289 @cynthiesjmxazrielslover @scorpioriesling @userxs-blog @lilah-asteria @abadfantasybook @judeduartewannbe @lindsayscottagebythesea @velarisdusk @serxndipity-ipity-blog

[acciocriativity]

-> | You keep distancing yourself | Ateez Reaction (Hyung Line)

Some could call selfsabotage, others could say is insecure attachament style, but maybe, you're just tired of fighting a losing battle.

Genre: Angst

Pairing: Ateez OT8 x gn! reader

WC: 2 k

N/A: This is my peace offering after vanishing for so long (please don't k word me)! I had this in my drafts for the longest time, but I only got enough motivation to finish it yesterday

Reblogs and comments are highly appreciated! Thank you so much for reading my work!

Kim Hongjoong (김홍중)

His kakaotalk notifications were non-existent these days.

None of the boys were good texters, and their group chat was silent since Seonghwa asked for something he didn’t remember anymore a while ago. So why did he keep glancing at his phone across the table when he should be working? You never answered whether you would like to come see him next month or not.

“Aish..”, he suddenly got up and walked left and right in the tiny studio, every now and then hitting one of the chairs and acting like it was their fault.

Was it really too forward? Maybe you just were not comfortable with the idea. But you two met 5 months ago and you were never afraid to get out of any situation that made you uncomfortable, so you could just say no, no hard feelings. There’s always a next opportunity, right? So why, why didn’t you just reply?

His phone lighted up. A new yellow notification appeared and he ran to grab it. The simple thought of you messing with any rational thoughts on his mind.

He felt stupid as he read it, then dropped the device on the table, too dejected to care about Mingi’s lost earphones.

Since when did he become so clingy? Maybe you were just busy now, yeah, that was it.

And he wasn’t wrong. You were doing the most to busy yourself so you would have a perfectly acceptable reason to not answer him at all.

Any college assignment you had a month to do was now was a top priority. The new hobby you wanted to try for a while? You just started it. You barely talked to your brother nowadays, but in the last two weeks, you visited his family a couple of times.

Why? You knew what you were doing in the first few days. You got attached too soon, fell deep into a hole and only realized the moment he asked you to watch his concert, ‘It’d mean the world if you come see me on tour next month’ it said. You recalled one of those deep conversations you had some random night the moment you read it.

“It’s kind of embarrassing, but not at the same time”, you remembered how he looked down when you asked about it, the blush on his cheeks gave him away. “It gives me so much strength and makes me want to work harder whenever important people come to see us”.

He also said how he treasured whenever important people in his life would support him that way. Even through a simple video call, you saw how his eyes shined as he giggled, only to change the subject. A part of you wished to feel how it was to have a support system like he does, but you never thought you would be included in that category for him. You did not even know if you want to or if you could deal with the pain that always comes with giving your heart to people and letting people in.

So you refused to think about it.

Park Seonghwa (박성화)

He cleaned his throat as he saw you coming towards him at one of the many small corridors of KQ Entertainment.

“It’s now or never, now or never, now-”

You barely glanced at him as you walked into one of the empty meeting rooms like it was previously agreed.

Lucky him, nobody saw the disheartening expression on his face or how he hesitated to push the door open. His confidence level went back to below zero and instead of an easy smile, he could barely manage a shy smile and an unnecessary formal bow as he came in, it wasn’t like you did not know each other.

So maybe this collaboration would not go as smooth as he let the others convince him it would, still, he could talk to you and, hopefully, get back to the simple relationship you both once had.

“Hello, Seonghwa-ssi”, you said in such an indifferent polite tone. It surprised him and yourself.

What hurt him most was the fake professional smile on your face. You were known for your authenticity and the worst poker face on earth, but you made the effort to pretend in front of him, like he was nothing more than an inconvenient stranger in an elevator. His heart felt heavy on his chest, he never had to make an effort to make you genuine laugh or smile, and now he realized how much he took that for granted back then.

You seemed perfectly fine in front of him, like it hasn’t been more than a month since your last conversation. But he still likes to believe he knows you better than that. And maybe he wishes you also can not be fooled by his brave facade.

“How have you been?”, the words fell out of his mouth before he could even blink.

You cleared your throat as you sat on one of the rolling chairs. “Been good, Hongjoong-ssi is a bit late. Can you confirm that he is coming soon, please?”

You pretended not to notice how he fumbled to grab his phone to send the text and instead, busied yourself to set up your laptop on the empty wood table. But you could not ignore how he was still standing like a lost child by the table.

“Are you going to grab some water before the meeting?”

“No, no, I’m… I’ll go to get some coffee, do you want it?”

You said no, so he took your perfect opportunity to get out and he left as quickly as he could with hurting his pride too much.

With his back to the wall beside the coffee machine, he sent more than 16 messages pleading Hongjoong to let go of their stupid plan and come as fast as he could to the meeting. Yet, he was left unanswered. The last sent message almost taunted him, it said “Just apologize for your stupid mistake and make things right by her”.

He knew he had to after he acted like an asshole, it was clear the moment he got home to be with his own thoughts, but the more he reflected on their plan, more he realized maybe this is why you waked away from him.

So he gathered his courage once again, but now to apologize for two things and leave you alone for good.

Jeong Yunho (정운호)

He watched as you giggled over some silly comment Wooyoung made a point to tell for the nth time. Yet, there you were, acting like it was the funniest thing in the world. Maybe he would react the same way if you stopped ignoring him for once that night.

“It’s getting hard to watch this”, Jongho mumbled under his breath as he stood up from the couch to refill two glass cups in their dorm’s kitchen, both for himself because only God knew how tiring was to hype up a miserable and stubborn friend.

Yunho did not notice the change beside him, but he did take note of your agitated state under his stare. He wished that could satisfy a selfish desire of satisfaction, but he felt nothing of that sort. Instead, his heart felt heavy with despair and unfulfilled need of your attention.

It felt silly to him at first, you two kissed after drinking a lot, so what? He was ready to let the past be the past and he thought you were on the same page. How stupid of him, he recognized it. Your relationship with him never went back to what it was, but it took him a while to notice he did not want that at all.

“C’mon, will you really let him suffer for the whole night?”, Wooyoung asked as he leaned into your side, ready to cuddle some more in part because he wanted to and in part because it was fun to see Yunho going insane over it.

You two been near the window for a while, enjoying the soft cold breeze of the night after a sunny day.

“You can’t deny it forever”, he said it in an annoying singing tone. “-ow, but you know I’m right”, he looked down to your hands dangerously close to his poor ribs, then grab them tight. “Ok, I get it, not talking about it”.

“Great, now let go”, you mumbled. “Let go, I’m not poking you”, you insisted trying to free yourself, only for him to intertwine your fingers.

“What if I don’t want to? Now, stand still”, he said as he leaned into your shoulder, taking the space like he was entitled to it.

Now, you were flabbergasted and defeated, because no matter what you do, you could not escape him on cuddle monster mode.

“Can we talk?”, you froze in place the moment you heard Yunho’s smooth deep voice right beside you. His gaze were focused on your face, yet you still made no move to acknowledge it.

“Give me my cuddle buddy back later, yeah?”

And just like that, the freaking traitor let go of you. You could see the mischievous light on Wooyoung’s eyes focused on your figure.

“There was no way to run away now”

That thought ran through yours, Yunho’s and Wooyoung’s mind. But you felt rage while Yunho felt hope.

“There’s nothing to talk about, wasn’t what you said?”.

You bumped into the traitor’s shoulder, then walked away.

Kang Yeosang (강여상)

Maybe you were some sort of a masochist or, maybe, you were plain stupid.

You’ve been friends with him for so freaking long, long enough that the few female friends that could still deal with your bullshit were exhausted of you and your ridiculous crush.

You clearly knew you were the latter, for some reason you thought you’d get over at some point or maybe he’d suddenly see the mysterious thing he was always looking for in you. None of those happened.

You stopped talking about him a little ago, maybe a month or two, and it was a good change to your friends’ ears. It was noticeable, but they gave you enough grace to not mention it. Little did they know, you were running from him like the plague as well.

Truth to be told, Yeosang did not notice it per se. He knew for sure something was going on after you declined his third attempt to make plans in less than two weeks. Why would he think you were lying to him at all? He thought you were sick and if you were felling that bad, of course he wouldn’t hesitate to agree with you, it would be better to meet up another day.

But then, two whole weeks with barely a peep from you? He missed your companionship in a way he did not know he could. You came into his life and little by little carved your space in his heart. But it was hard to put this feeling into words, he was not good with them in general, so you often had to read through the unfinished lines.

Now, he laid on his back watching the nothingness on the ceiling, yet his mind kept recalling the earlier conversation with San, if he could call his tongue tied moment a conversation.

“So what you gonna do?”

He could do nothing but stare wide eyed. Up until then, he did not think- no, he did not feel like he should do anything. You said through your actions many times already that you wished to be alone and as a friend, what else could he do but respect that?

But San was a hopeless romantic, and he wasn’t one to let things go so easily. Also, he wished the best for the two of you, in whatever way that may be even though Yeosang did not see those possibilities right in front of his nose.

“What should I do?”

“You have to figure it out on your own”

He did, he should.

He called you.

You didn’t pick up.

You were tired of being the one reading between the lines.

Tag list: @h3arteyes4mingi

[pippin-katz]

One Shots in Red, White & Royal Blue - Part 1: Alex's Room

Modern movies are fucking obsessed with jump cuts. Even scenes where it is completely unnecessary get cut to shreds. There's films I've seen where one, single sentence line got three jump cuts in it.

After watching Red, White, & Royal Blue over ten times now, I’ve noticed so many moments where they could’ve made jump cuts, but didn’t. There were moments where I was expecting it to cut because of how used I am to other movies cutting the shit out of scenes. They did not do that here, and believe me, it makes a difference.

Cuts temporarily remind the viewer that they're watching something scripted, professionally filmed, and edited. It's a subconscious feeling that most people probably don't even notice.

In case you're unfamiliar, a one shot in film is when a sequence happens without any cuts. One of the benefits of using them is the believability they add. Any amount of time could've progressed between cuts, like if they film a scene on two different days. When you see everything happening in real time, it just feels more real.

Red, White, & Royal Blue balanced their editing and camerawork incredibly well, and utilized one shots way more than I see a lot of other films doing nowadays. They use it for a variety of scenes, and it's done very well.

Example No. 1

From this moment, where Henry enters the room:

GIF by taylorz-nicholasg

To Henry pushing Alex onto the couch:

GIF by sheisraging

To when the sequence ends:

GIF by gay-bucky-barnes

is ALL ONE SHOT.

There are no camera cuts during that sequence, and there's a significant amount of movement and activity going on.

They are obviously aggressively making out, and crossing the room at the same time. Tracking this part might be common, but when they get to the couch, and Henry pushes him, I got this gut feeling that a jump cut was about to happen, but it didn't.

Instead, the camera rotates around to that side perspective, and lets Henry come back into frame and onto the couch in real time.

GIF by sheisraging

The camera doesn't change position until Henry moves down, which could've been a cut to Alex's face, but they opted to zoom in on him, keeping the shot connected.

GIF by sheisraging

This is not a small series of events to capture in one shot, and it means that Nicholas and Taylor had to memorize and perform the entire scene's blocking as a whole rather than in parts. If they mess up, they can't just say: "hey try that line again"

A one shot scene like this means that if you mess up at any point during the sequence, you can't use the take. You have to do it again from the beginning. That's the point of a one shot.

I think it's such a testament to Taylor and Nicholas' talent, skill, and dedication that they did such a long shot involving so much intimate, and difficult, choreography.

Breaking it down, they have to kiss for the first part, but it's not just kissing; it's aggressive kissing. Their eyes are closed, and they're grabbing at each other, while crossing the room. Taylor has to walk backwards. They need to have really good spatial awareness in order to move without hitting something or tripping.

Once they hit the couch, Nicholas has to undo the buttons on Taylor's shirt. If you've ever worn a button-down shirt, you know that sometimes you just struggle with those damn buttons; there's a moment in Paris where they joke about them. Nick has to undo them fast, and deliver his lines too. If he's too slow with the buttons, or they get stuck, take ruined.

Nick has to shove Taylor onto the couch. He has to be visibly forceful, but not knock him down so hard he falls off the couch, or land in a way that make it difficult for him to shift into where he's supposed to be. Nick also has to climb around onto the couch fast enough.

Obviously once they're on the couch, the difficulty comes in that they are being intimate, kissing and grabbing each other, and they need to remain in character. Then they have lines, and Nicholas has to get even more intimate by kissing his neck. He undoes another button or two and kisses his chest and down his stomach, all while delivering his lines correctly.

If either of them messes up a line, or breaks character for a second, or loses their balance, or anything, go back to the start, do it all again.

That is so much, and the two of them nailed every part of it. I still admire how they were able to trust each other and become confident in doing all that they do.

This being a one shot created a really incredible scene. It's fluid, and grounded in space and time. It's not the only scene that's drastically improved by the fact that it's a one shot, so I'll probably write more essays breaking down those scenes cause this movie has me in a choke hold.

Update: If you enjoyed this essay & would like to support me, you can give me a tip on my Ko-Fi! ☺️

[acquity]

He's Worried About You | Gaara x Reader

Summary: You are a powerful kunoichi of the Hidden Leaf Village and you are in a long-distance relationship with the Fifth Kazekage Gaara. When the Fourth Great Shinobi War began you became the captain of the Special Forces Unit and have been working yourself to the bone as the youngest captain. Gaara has watched over you from a distance as he takes on his duties as Regimental Commander of the Allied Shinobi Forces and Captain of the First Company and when heavy rain forces your two divisions to meet he comes to confront you about how much you have been overworking yourself.

Warnings: None! (I think, if there are let me know!)

Notes: I made a few small changes to the Fourth Great Shinobi War making it so that the war has been going on for months instead of a few days. Also, this ended up being A LOT longer than I expected so enjoy! :)

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

You stood inside of your tent extremely stressed out bent over a map of the battlefield- your thoughts running every which way. Lady Tsunade had entrusted you with the position of Captain of the Special Forces unit at the young age of sixteen. You didn't expect the sudden promotion but accepted it nonetheless wanting to serve your village well and do your part for the war effort.

However, this position was a lot more than you expected. Yes, you knew that this job would be very demanding, but this was just too much for you as a perfectionist. You worked extremely hard to ensure your division had no casualties and so far you were the only captain that maintained no deaths.

You wanted to keep this record causing you to run around your company's camp helping wherever needed causing you a lot of unnecessary stress.

Gaara had heard about this through Temari and a few other Hidden Sand shinobi that were stationed under your command. He frowned as soon as he read the letter from his elder sister about how you were holding up as of late.

You and Naruto had been the ones to pull him out of the darkness during the Chūnin Exams and had been there by his side when he got revived by Granny Chiyo. The boy lived to see you smile and his love for you grew everytime he saw it.

Now, it seemed as though you were too focused on others to ever think about yourself- it worried him. His beloved girlfriend was too selfless for her own good. It had taken him two years for him to even realize the love he felt for you after the exams let alone confess to you.

The Kazekage had just asked you to be his partner a little under two years ago when you were both fourteen and your relationship has been long distance ever since. It was already hard not seeing your face every day and the last thing he wanted out of this war was for his girlfriend to die from her being too exhausted to fight properly. If you died, he'd lose a part of his soul and he wasn't sure how he would cope- he didn't want to think about such a dark possibility.

Unfortunately, he couldn't just go to you he had his duties as Kazekage and Regimental Commander to take care of and he hated that fact. He remembered all those times where you used to put your hand on his shoulder and smile at him praising him for his improvement on his journey of becoming a better person. You were the reason even though he didn't see it at the time why he tried so hard to improve- and now that was at risk.

He wanted to hold you in his arms and take care of you as you had done for him. He had offered many times for you to move to the Hidden Sand where he could take care of you properly. He was the leader of the entire Land of Wind at the age of sixteen; you could easily just move into his estate, and he could provide for you giving you easy missions to keep you out of danger.

However, he knew how much you loved being a Hidden Leaf Kunoichi and loved you as you were never wishing to take that away from you. You rejected him each time he offered anyway not wanting to be a burden. He never held this against you though as he could never be upset with you besides, he understood your reasoning.

But, as luck would have it, heavy rain on the battlefield forced his division to meet with yours to exchange supplies and when he arrived, he immediately looked for you after making sure his unit was settled. He met with Temari who told him you were inside of your tent bent over a map of the battlefield. He sighed thanking his eldest sibling before looking for your tent.

When he found it, he walked inside and noticed the bags under your eyes instantly. Lack of sleep was normally his problem as Shukaku had kept him from sleeping most of his life still causing him problems to this day even though the One Tails was removed from him. He hated seeing you exhausted to this degree though, while he had learned to adapt to lack of sleep- you hadn't.

It made him wonder what else you had neglected in the time you two were separated in favor of taking care of your division. While you two sent letters back and forth every two days you avoided talking about yourself to avoid him worrying about you. He knew this and wished you could just let him take on some of your burdens.

He approached you with a worried expression on his face and his green eyes held a look of love and concern that he reserved only for you. You sighed giving him a weak smile as he placed a hand on your shoulder as he spoke.

"Are you alright?" He asked as he leaned his forehead against yours. You had helped him get used to showing physical affection over the years and he slowly got the hang of it. However, he kept physical affection reserved for only you and on occasion his siblings.

You stayed silent for a moment sighing as you closed your eyes enjoying the feeling of having your lover so close after a few months of not being able to see each other due to the war.

"Sorry for not meeting you when you arrived I have been stuck looking over the plans for the upcoming battle." You said giving him another weak smile as you opened your eyes.

"But I'm fine." You whispered and he knew it was a lie. You weren't fine you had been given a huge responsibility and he didn't doubt for a moment that you could handle it. He knew you could, but he also knew how much you cared for others so much so that you could get yourself sick by worrying about those under your command too much.

As a result, his look of worry didn't fade instead it depend as he placed two fingers lightly under your chin tilting it slightly upward so the two of you could meet eyes. "No, need to apologue. You never have to apologize to me." He replied kissing your forehead before continuing. "And I know you aren't fine Y/N." He started. "I can see it in your eyes, it's the same look you had during the battle at the Akatsuki's hideout when you came to save me. A look full of both love and exhaustion. You are stretching yourself too thin." He whispered softly, and you looked away for a moment your eyes looking down at the map once again.

He moved his fingers from your chin to your cheek cupping it in his hand. You leaned into his palm as you looked back at him.

"You need to let your shinobi help you, you don't need to take care of every issue that arises in your camp. You are young and you can let those around you support you in areas you need assistance in." He added, and you shook your head at him as you went silent once again.

You had never stayed silent for this long, like Naurto you both wouldn’t keep your mouths shut for a long time unless there was something wrong and this worried him even more as you gathered your thoughts together.

“You are young too Gaara, and you are in charge of way more. You the leader of an entire nation. The Kazekage.” You said pausing before continuing. “And I’m only in charge of one division. I’ll be fine I just need to work harder because if I fail. . .” You stopped your voice trailing off as you looked to the side unable to meet his gaze once again. “What would that say about me? What would that say about Lady Tsunade who gave me this position to begin with?”

The Kazekage grimaced on the inside as he felt his heart sink at your words and how you couldn't look at him when talking about your insecurities. It hurt him to see you this stressed to see you compare yourself to him, and he thought of the proper words to say to reassure you just as you had done for him so many times before.

He decided to act rather than speak at first pulling you into a warm embrace as he placed your head to rest on his shoulder as he finally choose the right words to say to you.

"You won't fail." He stated as he rubbed your back gently with one of his hands the other on the back of your head caressing your hair. "You are smart, talented, and most of all you are kind and care about doing the right thing. As long as you remain like that, you won't fail and even if you do, I'll be there to support you."

You smiled softly feeling the Kazekage's gentle touches on your back and head. His warm words washed over you like warm water as the tension in your body started to subside. However, your mind was still clouded with exhaustion from your heavy workload as you spoke back.

"Promise me you won't overwork yourself either." You replied with a small chuckle as your spirits lifted.

He gently ran his fingers through your hair as he listened to you, cherishing every moment of this intimate moment with you nodding in response to your words. He smiled at how you were laughing once again. It made his worry subside for a moment as he admired how you thought about him over yourself. It was one of the many reasons he loved you- your unwavering selflessness. "I promise, as long as you do the same." He responded as he pressed his lips against yours giving you a quick peck before continuing. "Now, let's get some rest together." You nodded and the two of you fell asleep cuddling close to one another inside of your tent taking advantage of your divisions still being forced together due to the rain. As he fell asleep, he made a mental note to send Kankuro to watch over you as well- just in case.

[michinekot]

What do u like about thistle?

I'll start off with his design because it's not so spoiler-heavy.

He's short, cute, a total menace and has the cutest evil grin ever. I certainly have a thing for villains... But also generally, jesters are fun and I usually love their outfits. Thistle is no exception, I love all of his looks (but I'm not gonna look for them all through the manga...) and how different he is after becoming the Dungeon Master. Also, white hair, purple eyes & outfit... (´,,•ω•,,)♡

I must also add, I adore how the author draws elf ears pointed upwards and how expressive her art is. Absolutely amazing, all the angry Thistles are great.

Now I'll get into heavy spoiler territory, I'll go over the ending too:

First off, I really like how he shows his love through "eternity", much like Marcille. Elves who love people of other races suffer because they will undoubtedly outlive everyone else. The way Thistle and Marcille are similar is so great to see... and I think it's great that Marcille wasn't made out to be a terrible, selfish villain and neither was Thistle. Through her becoming the Dungeon Master, we see how much this power changes them.

He meant well and his wish wasn't initially selfish. He didn't even wish for eternal live, just a peaceful one. Of course, the Winged Lion dug deeper into it and the selfish part came to light.

And because no one was aware of the danger, it became absolute truth to Thistle that he's doing the right thing and making everyone happy. His dream was everybody else's dream in his mind. And I think it's nice how much he must've paid attention to the townsfolk needs, because...

He must've done so much to make the Dungeon liveable and safe for the people he cares about. All those traps were to ward off people who (he assumed) must've been just like the ones who came to destroy the kingdom. On the other hand, he saw opportunity in the monsters and had people take care of them like they did with their farm animals. It was unnecessary, he didn't have to do that since they don't need to sleep, eat or drink. But he knew that they weren't happy doing nothing at all and put a lot of thought into the ecosystem (compared to Marcille, which is understandable, but y'know. I think it's great to see the difference since her monsters werent very, uh... thought out?)

It's been SO many years of stagnation, they can't even taste the food or enjoy anything.

He's aware, he'd enjoy a little change of pace too, he's open to it! but the desire to protect everyone wins.

He just... loves everyone so much. His platonic love isn't simple at all. He did so much for everyone. And after losing his desires... I feel like he hasn't lost his love for everyone.

I think that, maybe... he feels like everything was fullfilled? He's been angry and anxious for so long and now there's nothing to worry about anymore. I'm really sad for him, but there's no going back to "normal" after everything. But I'm glad Yaad doesn't hate him. I don't think anyone from the kingdom truly hates him.

Also this page makes me want to cry...... he's holding him so gently and Thistle only looks tired and like he wants to sleep. I hope he finds his place in the new world and lives out the rest of his life peacefully.

I haven't read much of the additional stuff yet, but I also think about Mithrun a lot.

I think Mithrun was extremely selfish in his desires and that's why, aside from them, his eye and ears were taken away. It might be just the demon's will because it wasn't exactly the Winged Lion, but all demons are technically the same one(? from what I understood...). The only desire left within Mithrun was about the demon, but in the end, it still seemed selfish.

But neither Marcille or Thistle were physically hurt after having desires taken from them. The Winged Lion also said something along the lines of "this is for everyone, I want everyone's desires to be fullfilled for all eternity". It didn't like Thistle because he stagnated, but it probably understood him a little bit, since he mostly thought of others. But there was no way to manipulate him into thinking about Anyone outside of the kingdom. Only Laios managed to talk a tiny bit of sense into him... but it still didn't work out.

So yeah, Dungeon Meshi is amazing and I generally love everyone, but Thistle speaks to me the most because... his top priority was protecting those he loves, freeing them from death and pain, living out the life they had on the surface forever. And this feels personal to me- I lost both of my parents and the friends I cared about the most left me. So like, if we ditch all the (totally right) talk about how there's no happiness without pain and such, I get Thistle. He meant well. He's a very well done character. :)

[chiliyue-archived]

Hiraeth

↬ he can't stop returning back to you

Includes; PM!Dazai

Entry; 💭 - thoughts not said outloud + ❛ i’m scared of ending up alone. ❜

[Event Navi | M.List] | [Bsd M.List] ♡

-

Dazai has been doing this far too often. And he knows it. Showing up to your living quarters rather than his storage container at the dead of night. Despite himself, it became a perpetual cycle that he had found to be powerless to break away from - acting as the puppeteer to his earthen desires that wilted with passing graces.

The crickets that usually filled his solitude came to increasingly accommodate you as a change. Unknowingly, you became a resurgence within his mind. And before he could even realize it, his legs had led him aimlessly back to you.

Pushing you away wasn't as easy as he thought - and the question if that was a good or bad thing hung in the silence.

Cotton Fingers peeled open the door, exposing his one eye to your slumbering figure. You were perched on the left side of the bed - it became a habit you acquired ever since Dazai has started to fancy your presence and found himself lying in that vacant spot beside you. However, he was never at the mercy of rest; his milky eye would gaze at the ceiling until rays of orange and gold leaked through the binds. That was always his sign of departure, leaving more weary and in search of an abstruse answer.

On the days he wasn't so hapless, his rest often came at the expense of nightmares; losing you to a power far greater than the demon prodigy. He couldn't really pinpoint when he became so attached to you.

Perhaps it was an accumulation of many things that gave sway to his blocked heart. The first time he let you dress his wounds, watching with catious eyes as you carefully nurtured him back to his second skin of gauze. Maybe it was in the way you didn't seem perturbed by the ugliness that was hidden beneath, punctuated by the soft feathery trailing of your fingertips against the molded scars.

Perhaps it was the kisses you pressed on his cheeks and creased forehead, bathing him in your attention devoid of the pain he was accustomed to. Not many escaped his touch unscathed, and yet yours was a drug he chased after incessantly.

Or maybe it was the first time the name 'Osamu' slipped from your lips in sincerity. Dazai almost hated the way he wanted to hear you say it again - to provoke that gentle tickle that became distinguished in his chest when he was with you.

But as much as he conjectured on the potiental answer, it had always remained to be an inquiry that probed the back of his head. Far too complex for even his great intellect, it was both vexing and equal parts a craving.

Dazai made work of shrugging off his coat, the article feeling unnecessary heavy on his taut shoulders. His shoes were already long abandoned, tossed in the genkan beside yours in a lax manner. He's done it so many times that it felt like second nature.

It was quickly followed by the pulling of his tie, the windsor knot becoming a peice of flimsy material and discarded on the small nearby table.

It was the same piece of furniture the two of you would cramp up together and eat cheap takeout or meals crafted by your hands. Regardless of the quality it was a change that filled up his stomach - unlike the cans of crab that littered his home acting as taunting reminders of his position.

He wordlessly slipped beside you, muscle memory coaxing him to curl around your body. His fingers instinctively took place in your hands. Limbs that were so accustomed to yielding instruments of death became fidgety against your own. His pinky mindlessly flexed around your joints, his thumb drawing out the contours.

For reasons he struggled to fathom, he couldn't quite bring himself to look at you. Not in a detested form of manner, but rather for the vulnerability that came if he risked a glance. To see you curled up beside him, dozing in your dreams and feeling secure even with the mafioso beside you. Selfishly, he pondered if you dreamed of him; perhaps immersed in an abstract reality far more promising than whatever this was.

" I'm back." His voice came out as a mumble despite knowing you couldn't hear him. Outloud, the words felt more like an indulgence to himself than anything.

His head leaned forward, his forehead making contact with your hair. The vacuous plaster of his lips remained; however, his eyes became glazed in a spur of intangible emotions. He chose to ignore the way his body hugged closer to you, legs sweeping over yours in a tangle of limbs. He didn't make an attempt to resist it either.

He allowed the silence to suspend the moment, nose nestling into the back of your head and absorbing your presence in silent fear of it being ephemeral. The weight of you being taken from him was always present, and he wasn't sure what he would do if that came into fruition. Just thinking of it rooted its probability deep within his mind and jutted a frown on his face.

Dazai felt his heart stutter when you habitually snuggled into him, light murmurs slipping from your lips. Even if your subconscious you gave him slices of your affection that made him gnaw in reproof yearning.

" Don't disappear on me, okay?" His voice was muffled against your skin, fingers weaving into your own properly.

Under normal circumstances he would have chastised himself for exhibiting such softness; cautioning himself to be more prudent even in your assuaging amity. But it felt terribly easy now to recite those words, even when doused in raw honest undertones.

" I'm scared of ending up alone." Again. He inwardly added, squeezing his eye shut. His voice was small, uncharacteristic of the teasing tone that laced his tongue. No snarky comment, flirty one-liners or fallacious words. He pressed a peck to the crown of your head as though sealing the daunting declaration with verdity.

He was unsure how much time passed but Dazai cradled close to you, whispering light phrases under breath, not yet prepared to voice them properly to you. Truthfully, he was addicted to you, and he briefly wondered what he did to find himself in this moment. Rummaging his mind did little to alleviate his pondering, but it did swarm his heart with an abnormal amass of warmth. A wistful expression would consume him the more he reflected upon your shared moments.

He wasn't some port mafia executive, he was Osamu Dazai in your embrace. And he selfishly desired for that not to change. For the sun to not rise just so he may soak in your attention with greed and rest his head against your shoulder. He wishes to hear your pulse in his ear, to remind him that you're very much real.

He almost can't stop the guilty grin that stretches on his cheeks when the familiar rhythm resonates in his ear. And contrary to the abode you provide him, it also makes his throat go dry and threaten to squeeze his breath away - unsure how long you will remain in his arms.

When you nuzzled your back into his chest, he couldn't help but squeeze your hands, his lips falling on that pulse point on your shoulder. Even if he wasn't able to sleep, his gaze inched closer to you, committing your small details to memory before flickering back to the ceiling. But more and more he came to immerse himself in your person both willingly and subconsciously.

He never meant to get attached, but maybe if it was you, it wouldn't be so bad.

-

Erm. I wrote this at 2am , idk if this even makes sense 💀

Event Taglist; @eynnwwyjth @himebwrries @seiiblue

If you wish to be added or removed, comment on this post !

[minustwofingers]

exoplanet p. 4.5

second half of exoplanet part 4!

pairing: ellie williams x reader

summary: you’ve won the life lottery as one of the few people on earth with parents who gained admittance to the most prestigous safezone in the world after the outbreak. but after a lab accident sends you out to jackson, wyoming, real life hits you fast. it’s a good thing that a hot lesbian finds u. (lol). mean ellie at first, slowburn, enemies to friends to lovers, fem reader asf

warnings: PLEASE READ! mentions of nsfw content (read at your own risk), violence, explicit language. also a lot of angst. ellie is still kind of a dick but not quite as much. 

a/n: haha. isn’t it sooo funny how i said this would come out almost 12 hours later and then i posted it? i need to hit the hay early asf today if im to be frank w you guys so here it is now. i want to thank you all for the sweet and kind messages and comments i’ve been getting—they’ve been fuel for my writing!! also, i’ve got a better idea of how i want to end it now, so i’ve got a pretty good outline for what’s going to happen. expect around 3 more parts (one of which may or may not be an epilogue from ellie’s pov). as always thanks for reading!

part 1

part 2

part 3

part 4.0 (first half of this part) 

playlist inspired by exoplanet!!

wc: 6.5k

tags: @prettyplant0 @666findgod @sawaagyapong @rystarkov @buzzybuzzsposts @addisonnie @galacticstxrdust @parkersmyth @pinkazelma @ariianelle @lu002 @blairfox04 @sparkleswonderland @elliesflower​ 

enjoy x 

Dina’s sudden reappearance in your life was turning into one of the best things you had going on. When you were done with work, instead of loitering about Joel’s home and hoping to run into Ellie, you’d knock on Dina’s front door and spend your afternoons gossiping and trading stories. 

She never asked so explicitly about Ellie again, but you could tell that occasionally she wanted to.

“Guess whose birthday it is this weekend?” asked Dina one day in late April. The Wyoming sun was hung high in the sky, and the weather was steadily becoming warmer. The temperature was stuck at a breezy 60, and a part of you wondered just how hot it would get over the summer. 

Terranova rarely ever got over 70 degrees. Would it be hotter than that? Would you even be here to see it?

“Yours?” you guessed casually, pushing away the ever-present question of how long you’d really be in Jackson.

Dina snorted. “No. Not quite. You just missed mine, actually. I’m a December baby.” 

“Jesse?”

“No.”

“Joel?”

“Nope.” Her mouth popped on the p. 

Your heart thudded. “Uh—Ellie?” 

Her face split into a wide grin. “Yes! It’s her 20th. Isn’t that crazy? She’s ancient.” 

“Wow!” you said, coaxing faux enthusiasm into your voice. 

You and her had kept seeing each other at night, long after Joel had turned in. It always proceeded like clockwork—she’d come knock at your door, you’d fall into her bed, and then you’d leave.

You’d thankfully avoided any of the embarrassing stuff that you’d done the second night—no more unnecessary sensual face touching and whispers of her being a good person. You wanted to, though. There was so much that you ached to tell her, so many words that threatened to spill from your lips that you just barely managed to keep at bay. 

The worst part was the way that nothing had really changed between you two beyond what transpired every few evenings in her room. Each morning, you’d wake up knowing that you were in for another day of pretending like she didn’t know what it sounded like when you whined and begged and told her where to touch you. Like you didn’t know how her mouth tasted.

“I want to get her a present,” Dina was saying. “I do something for her every year, but I want this birthday to be a little different—given that she’s made it two decades and all, you know.” 

“That’s really thoughtful of you.”

Dina’s eyes sparkled. “I know! Do you want to help? If you do, I’ll tell her it’s from you, too.”

“Actually,” you said, wheels in your head turning, “That would be amazing. I have no idea what I’d get her otherwise.”

“Great.” Dina leaned back, nabbing her backpack from the ground and fishing through it until she produced a map. She unfolded it and began gesturing over the marks. “I found an abandoned bookstore in this area outside of the wall.” She tapped on a dot that she’d made, situated a fair ways away from the wall and on the opposite side of the town as the dam. 

“So we’re going shopping?”

Dina laughed. “Yeah. 5 finger discount, too. The only problem is that we might need to kill some baddies to qualify, but once we clear our way, it’s home free.”

“Right,” you said, fear creeping into your bones at the thought of having to fight off the infected. You’d only been on a few patrols since you’d been shot, and each had been totally unnoteworthy. You’d yet to actually shoot your gun at anything. “You—you do know that I’m not actually that good of a patrol partner, right?”

“Don’t worry about it,” said Dina, waving her hand dismissively. “I can take care of us. Plus, we haven’t seen infected in this area for a while. This is a pretty remote area—tough to reach unless you know what you’re looking for.”

“So, when are we going?”

A glimmer appeared in her eye. “Now?”

~

“Where are you going?” 

Ellie stood, her arms crossed as she leaned against the opposite wall. You were grabbing your patrol things, slinging your backpack over your shoulders and pulling on the gray sweatshirt she’d given you.

“Out with Dina,” you said, slightly breathless from moving so quickly. You hadn’t been expecting Ellie to be home—normally she was keeping herself busy picking up extra patrol shifts and helping Joel. It had been an unwelcome surprise to run into her, sour faced and serious while you were trying to get ready. 

“Out where?”

You shrugged, trying your best to look nonchalant. “Dina said she wanted to show me something.”

She was silent as you finished lacing up your shoes, but you could see her watching you from the corner of your eyes.

“I’ll be back in time for tonight, if that’s what you’re worried about,” you offered snidely, hardly realizing what you’d said until it had left your lips. It had been a low blow. It had been nasty. You weren’t sure why you’d said it. 

“That’s not—” She rubbed the bridge of her nose with her fingers. “I didn’t mean it like that.” 

“I know.” You stood up, feeling deflated. “Sorry. I don’t know why I said that.” 

Ellie sent you a tight smile. “It’s fine.”  

You walked back to Dina’s feeling heavy. That was how most of your interactions with Ellie seemed to go nowadays—awkward, stiff, and remarkably unfriendly. You weren’t sure what changed. And she was still fucking you, which didn’t make much sense.

Sometimes it felt like she was distancing herself on purpose. But that had to be wrong, because why would she do that? You obviously liked her. She wasn’t the one at risk of being hurt. 

You and Dina took off by foot as the sun began to set, well-armed with both weapons and navigational equipment. Well—Dina was, at least. All you had was the small gun Ellie had given you. Dina was doing all of the heavy lifting.

The forest was quiet, interrupted only occasionally by songbirds and the sound of wind rustling through the leaves. Spring had hit Jackson suddenly, the underbrush exploding in volume and flowers blooming everywhere.

As you two walked through the woods, chattering mindlessly and generally enjoying each other’s company, you made a mental reminder to return to the forest to pick up a makeshift bouquet of flowers. Ellie didn’t seem like the type to swoon over things like that, but even the most unromantic people could recognize the gesture of flowers. You were sure she’d at least put them in a vase. 

Eventually the path Dina was leading you on opened up to a heavily overgrown street, a small decrepit strip mall hidden away in the shrubbery.

“Here!” said Dina cheerily. She jogged forward, scrubbing the moss off of the door to show a book icon on the filthy glass.

“And you said that there’s no infected here?” you asked, your fingers wrapped nervously around your gun.

“Of course I did,” said Dina. “Do you think I’d take you somewhere that was infested?”

The glass shattered as a body came crashing through the door, thrashing and clicking in a mass of bloody limbs as it took Dina to the ground.

Your finger squeezed the trigger before you could think, sending a spray of gore into the air as Dina forced the thing off of her and stood, panting. 

There wasn’t even a chance to breathe. A piercing shriek cut through the air before three more followed the first, not paying any mind to the jagged edges of the broken door that grabbed at their mutilated skin. 

“Fuck!” Dina’s knife went swinging through the air, slicing and jabbing at the creatures in front of you. They fell in quick succession, but there was more rustling and screaming from inside. Far too much rustling. “Run!”

She didn’t have to tell you twice. Despite the fact that you’d never been a track star in school, you bolted quicker than you’d even known possible. Your backpack banged against your back as you sprinted down the road, ducking into the brush and making a break for it with Dina right on your tail. 

The walk there had taken close to 30 minutes. Your sprint cut that in over half. You and Dina ran in stride, with her lagging behind to send off a few shots to ground the runners that were quick enough to keep up. The clearing you appeared in all the way back in the winter flashed by you in a second, and within another few moments, you were both resting against the wall, chests heaving as you both picked off the stragglers that had come out of the forest to investigate.

By the time the last gunshot rang out and the final infected slumped to the ground, you were shaking uncontrollably, your gun vibrating in your hand. 

“Shit, I’m so sorry,” said Dina, equally breathless though significantly more composed as you two walked through the entrance, getting concerned looks from the people who were manning the gate. “I’ve never seen so many in that store before. I don’t understand. It was clear the last time I went.” 

Before you could respond, someone stepped into your eye line.

“What the fuck did you do,” seethed Ellie. Her eyes were wild, her lip curled in a manner so derisive you began to wonder if you’d ever actually seen her angry before this. 

“Chill, Ellie,” said Dina. “Y/N and I were just going to try and pick something up for your birthday. There were…a few more than what I was expecting. But it’s fine. We handled them. She did great.”

Ellie looked at you then, and you could feel her taking you in. Her eyes rested with accusation at the way that your hands were trembling. “You’re so fucking stupid, Dina. You knew that she’s never done this before. What the fuck is wrong with you, taking her out like that?”

“It was clear the last time I was there!” Dina spoke with her hands, waving them through the air in emphasis.“There wasn’t supposed to be any. I don’t know what to tell you. I didn’t purposefully try to get us killed.” 

Ellie sent her another scathing look before turning her attention to you. “And don’t even get me started with you.”

You blinked. “What?”

“What the fuck were you thinking?!” she snapped. 

Dina sent you a wink and disappeared down the street in the direction of her house. 

“I was thinking of your birthday, actually,” you said delicately. “We were going to get you something from the bookstore.”

“That is not an excuse to go get yourself killed!”

You held up your hands in mock surrender, which looked really stupid considering how hard you were still trembling. “I’m sorry. That wasn’t the original plan. Can we not do this right now? I’m still trying to, uh, process what happened.” 

As if to punctuate your point, the next step you took nearly sent you to the ground, your knees wobbling. 

Ellie’s hands were at your sides in an instant, solid and steadying against you as you regained your balance.

“Sorry,” you said again, lower this time. 

“How many?” Ellie asked. Her voice was softer now, almost resigned. She hadn’t let go yet.

“I don’t know,” you admitted. “After the first three or four, I lost count. They just kept—” You winced at the memory of the wet sound that they made hitting the ground. “They just kept coming.” 

“You did them a favor,” said Ellie, stepping back and to your side as you began to walk forward. Her hand stayed posed on your forearm. “It gets easier.” 

“I don’t know if I want it to get easier,” you confessed. 

“Well, how about you start by never doing something that fucking stupid again.” Her words lacked any venom. “Don’t you ever go out without me again, okay? Do you have any idea what could’ve happened to you?”

You gave your trembling hands a look. “I can take a guess.”

Ellie walked you back to Joel’s house, helping you out of your jacket and unsubtly checking your skin for bites. Or at least that’s what she said she was doing. She couldn’t seem to stop touching you. 

You headed back up to your room to get changed as Ellie shut the front door and was off to finish her work with Tommy. As you leisurely made your way down the hallway, you noticed that something was off—the hallway closet was slightly ajar.

The memories of your first night there came floating back to you, images of Ellie shutting the door before you could see inside emerging to the forefront.

It wouldn’t hurt to look, would it? It was probably nothing. 

Your hand wrapped tentatively around the handle, pulling the door open so slowly that the old, rusty hinge fell silent.

It wasn’t what you were expecting. It wasn’t what you were expecting at all. 

It wasn’t really a closet—there were a few shelves, but no hangers. In their place, there were stacks of textbooks with old, dated covers of the stars, planets, and physics. The back wall was plastered with drawings of constellations and calculations in Ellie’s messy scrawl, reminiscent of the leftover scrap paper from when you sat your physics exams and did your problem sets.

The memory of Ellie staring at your textbook re-emerged to hit you with full force. No wonder she was interested in it. THIS is what she was going to say that she wanted to study when you’d asked her. 

A slow smile crept onto your face as you thought about her upcoming birthday.

You knew what you were getting her now. 

~

Preparing for Ellie’s surprise party was a full day’s worth of work. You and Dina had convinced Maria to give Ellie enough things to do that she’d stay out of the house for the majority of the afternoon. You felt kind of guilty that Ellie was being put to work on her birthday of all days, but Dina just shook her head.

“It’s Ellie,” she said. “She lives to act all macho and patrol and shit. This is probably an extra present to her.” 

You two had located some flour, sugar, eggs, and butter and were hard at work baking a cake. It was tough going without a real recipe, but you’d grown up with a mother who loved baking, so you tried to do it from memory.

The result was a rather lopsided looking monstrosity that you and Dina had attempted to salvage through the liberal application of the thin icing you’d managed to whip up using milk and powdered sugar. It didn’t work, and you two didn’t wait long enough for the cake to cool before frosting it, so it melted in puddles and made the cake soggy.

“Fantastic work,” said Dina, wiping her hands on her front as you two surveyed the final product. “Really incredible, Y/N. You should really consider a career change.”

“Shut up,” you said, snorting. “Ellie’s gonna hate this.”

“She’s going to think it’s hilarious,” Dina corrected. “I’m sure it can’t taste too bad, right?”

You shivered. “Don’t say that.”

The decorations and gathering of presents were thankfully an easier challenge, and before you knew it Joel’s living room was fixed up to look obnoxious as possible, with a tacky “HAPP BIRTHDAE ELLIE” strung up in blood red reflective plastic (you two couldn’t find any Ys) above the fireplace. “Happy 5th Birthday!” balloons filled the ceiling, their gaudy purple color clashing horrifically with the red of the lettering. 

“This is just awful, Dina,” you said. “Ellie’s never going to speak to us again.”

“You need to chill,” Dina responded. “She might act grumpy all of the time, but I know her, and I know she’ll secretly like this.”

7 rolled around quickly, and with it came the guests.

First was the unsurprising Jesse, grinning and carrying a satchel that had a makeshift card attached to the top labeled “Ellie”. 

Next came Astrid, Bonnie, and Greg—all of the patrolmen that were roughly around your age. You hadn’t spent all that much time with them, but they’d always been fun.

Last came a girl you’d never seen before.

“Hi!” she said, extending a hand and looking at you through a fringe of choppy black hair. 

“Hi!” you said, taking her hand and shaking it once. “I’m Y/N.”

“I know,” she said, her eyes crinkling. “I’m Cat.”

“I can’t believe you two haven’t met before,” said Dina, swooping in to stand beside you. There was something written on her face—something that looked kind of like worry.

“I can’t either!” you said good-naturedly. “How do you know Ellie?”

Dina cringed.

Cat just smiled wider. “Oh. Ellie and I go way back.”

“Cat, why don’t you go help me in the kitchen? I need to finish plating some stuff,” said Dina. 

“Sure!” Cat sent you one more winning smile, following Dina with a bounce in her step.

Something felt deeply off about that interaction, but you couldn’t quite put a finger on what it was. You’d never seen Dina so eager to get you away from someone. Maybe it’d just been a coincidence?

You didn’t get a chance to dwell on it further, because Ellie was opening the door. 

“Surprise!” Everyone in the living room yelled upon seeing her. 

Ellie blanched, her eyes landing on you for a moment before she cast her gaze to the rest of the room. “What’s this?”

“Your birthday party,” said Dina, appearing from the kitchen with a plate of crackers and other appetizers, Cat in tow. “You didn’t think we were just going to let you turn 20 without embarrassing you just a little bit?”

“Those are the most hideous balloons I’ve ever seen,” said Ellie, crossing her arms.

“Thanks,” you said, beaming. “I picked them out myself.” 

Much to your surprise, her lips lifted until she was smiling back. “You’re such a loser.”

“Okay!” said Dina, clearing her throat and stepping in between you two. “You two can flirt later. I’ve been slaving away in the kitchen for an entire day. Let’s eat.”

You shut your mouth, blushing uncontrollably as your eyes lifted. Ellie’s cheeks looked uncharacteristically pink and her eyes were fixed on your shoes.

Dinner went by quickly, with everyone trading odd stories about patrolling and their life before Jackson. You learned that Dina had actually been born in New Mexico and that Astrid was from Oregon. You heard all about how Jesse and Greg came across an old mall a few miles out of Jackson that was so full of infected that they could hear them scratching at the doors and clicking even before they were within eyesight of the building. You told some stories about your life in Terranova, about studying and your family. 

“What the fuck is this?” asked Ellie once Dina had reappeared, carrying your sorry excuse of a birthday cake. Time had not treated it well. The first layer was almost entirely slid off, and the cake looked damp from the melted icing.

“It’s your birthday cake,” you said. “We, uh, tried. I don’t have a cake recipe memorized, and it was harder than I expected.”

The candles Dina attempted to stick into the cake kept falling out, the structural integrity so weakened from the melted frosting that chunks were coming off.

“Let’s just pretend that there’s 20 candles,” said Dina finally once the top layer of the cake finally split in half. 

“Right,” said Ellie, snorting. 

Dina led a very enthusiastic rendition of the Happy Birthday song that ended in cheers and hollers as Ellie dramatically lowered her head to the cake and pretended to blow the “candles” out. 

No one touched the cake, but you couldn’t blame them. 

Next came presents. Jesse went first, giving Ellie a satchel that held a bunch of cleaning equipment for her patrol rifles. Dina had found a t-shirt that said “Enemy of the State” in goofy comic sans lettering, and Ellie was unsuccessful in holding back her giggles at seeing it. 

“Dina, this is so stupid,” she said, but there was no venom in her tone, just amusement. 

It was your turn next, so you leaned across the table to place the small box in front of her. 

“Please tell me you didn’t almost die getting this one,” said Ellie, giving you a suspicious look.

“Not at all,” you said. “I accidentally brought it from Terranova.” 

Her nimble fingers untied the flimsy ribbon you’d haphazardly wrapped around the tiny brown box, lifting the lid off and peering inside.

“It’s a…rock?” Ellie frowned, pulling it out and holding it in her hand.

“You got her a rock for her birthday?” Cat asked you from her position to your right, her eyebrows raised.

“It’s not just a rock,” you said. “It’s a moon rock. Like, from the moon.”

Ellie froze, her eyes saucers as she stared at the rock balanced in her palm. “What?”

“I told you I studied astrophysics,” you said casually. “One of my professors let me borrow it because my research supervisor wanted to take a look at it, so it was in my bag. And I never had the chance to give it to him, obviously. So it’s yours now.” 

“Holy fuck.” She turned in over, her fingers running across the surface. “This is…wow. Oh my god.”

“That’s so cool, dude,” Jesse said. “Like, insane. I didn’t even know that those were a thing.”

“There’s only a couple in the world,” you added. “And even fewer that are still reachable. The rest are…well, out here somewhere. Terranova only has a few from our own expeditions and the professors who managed to grab what they had when they moved.”

“This one’s from me,” said Cat, leaning forward and placing an envelope in front of Ellie. “It’s not as cool as a moon rock, but I thought you’d like it.” 

Her fingers slid under the tongue of the envelope, ripping it open and pulling a piece of paper out. 

“Good for one more free tattoo,” Ellie read out.

Cat sat back, looking awfully pleased with herself. 

“Cat was the one who gave Ellie the one on her arm,” Dina explained to you.

 A memory pricked at your consciousness, dating back to your first patrol with Ellie.

An ex had given her the tattoo on her arm.

The girl who had given her tattoo was Cat.

Cat was her ex.

That makes so much sense you realized with horror as you remembered how Cat had told you so confidently that she and Ellie went way back. Of course they did. They used to date.

“Where’d you go?” asked Dina, bumping your shoulder.

“Sorry,” you said, rubbing the bridge of your nose. “Just, uh, tired.”

When you looked up, Ellie’s eyes were on you, her lips slightly quirked.

You looked away, instead focusing on the placemats that Dina had set out. Cat was so different from you—so peppy, so confident, so loud. No wonder Ellie didn’t want anything more than what you had now. Whatever Ellie had seen in Cat had nothing to do with you. 

The night ended with you all sitting on the couches in the living room with Dina mixing drinks so strong that you were wondering if she was trying to kill you. 

“Jesus Christ, Dina,” you said as you watched her pour. “What is that? 90 percent vodka?” 

“I prefer to call it efficient,” Dina corrected. 

It burned going down your throat and you fought back a cough as you placed your glass back on the coffee table. Ellie was right next to you, her thigh barely brushing against yours as you moved.

Cat was on the other side of the room, seated next to Jesse and Astrid. You were internally very proud that Ellie had chosen to sit next to you instead. Her arm rested on the back of the couch behind you, and even though it couldn’t have meant all that much, you couldn’t help but wonder if it at least meant something. 

You were just halfway through your cup by the time you started to feel really and properly sloshed. Your voice sounded tinny in your ears, and from the way that Ellie was laughing at anything anyone said, you had a sneaking suspicion that she was somewhere around where you were.

It wasn’t long before everyone had excused themselves and wished Ellie a final happy birthday—it was getting late and quite a few had early shifts the next day.

Dina was the last to go, saying goodbye and sending you another look as she pointedly stared at the arm rested behind you.

For a few minutes, you and Ellie just sat in silence, hearing the fire crackle and the sound of her softly breathing.

Then she spoke.

“How did you know that I’d like the moon rock?”

“Oh.” You blushed. “Don’t be mad. You left the closet door open the other day—you know, the one with all your space textbooks and everything. It was an educated guess.” 

“So nosy,” she tutted. 

“But you do like the rock?” 

She smiled. “Yes. Thank you.”

You reached forward and polished off the rest of the drink that Dina had made you, feeling the liquid fire slide down your throat and settle in your stomach. 

When you turned back, you could see Ellie staring at you, her auburn hair glowing in the firelight, her pupils blown wide, and her eyes slightly unfocused. She’d had more than one of the drinks that Dina had made, and it was really showing. 

“You’re so pretty.”

You froze. Out of all the things you expected her to say, that was nowhere on the list. The words had left Ellie’s lips like a compulsion, raw and honest. 

She hadn’t stopped looking at you, but her eyes were wider, her cheeks red. She hadn’t meant to say it, you realized. Now she was embarrassed and flustered, and it was all because of you. 

It was the boldness of being tipsy that made you move towards her, pulling your legs up until you were seated on your knees in front of her.

Ellie didn’t move apart from wetting her lips, her eyes darting from your eyes to your mouth. 

When you kissed her, she melted into you. The arm that had been draped over the couch behind you dropped to your back, your own hands sliding into her hair and tightening at the back of her neck.

She gasped as she felt your nails scrape against her, and you took the opportunity to lick into her open mouth, tasting the vodka on her tongue as it slid against yours.

To your surprise, her hands didn’t creep up your shirt or dip below the waist of your pants. They stayed static, one glommed onto your back while the other clutched your jaw as she let you kiss her, over and over again. 

You couldn’t quite put your finger on it, but there was something about it that felt different than your usual nighttime meetups. It felt more—vulnerable, almost, that Ellie was kissing you just to kiss you, not with some other agenda. 

The grandfather clock chimed, indicating that it was almost midnight. You pulled away from her for a second, panting as you caught your breath. A string of saliva suspended between your lips, snapping as you waved a hand through it and flushed.

“Sorry,” you whispered.

She just smiled.

“Is Joel going to be back soon?”

As if to punctuate your point, the front door banged open, the man in question pulling his jacket off and turning to see you both. You’d thankfully managed to get off her lap before he saw. 

“Oh!” he said, his eyebrows nearly touching his hairline. “I wasn’t expecting you two to still be awake.”

“Uh, yeah,” said Ellie, scratching the back of her neck. “We’ve just been…talking.”

“Good party?”

“Yeah.” 

“I’m glad. Tommy and Maria wish you a happy birthday, by the way. Though I’m sure you knew that.” 

“Yeah. Thanks.”

“Well,” said Joel, giving a sigh that only old men could recreate, “I’m off to bed. You two don’t stay up too late, huh? You’ve still got work tomorrow.” 

“Goodnight,” you two chorused. 

Once Joel had disappeared into his room, you turned to look at her.

“That was close.” 

“Yeah.” Ellie laughed nervously, picking at her cuticles. “Um—do you want to move somewhere else?”

Something deep in your chest ached. Sure, you’d be okay with spending another hour or so feeling her hands on you as she made you finish, but a part of you had really liked just touching her for the sake of touching her—kissing her just because you could.

“Sure,” you said. “Just give me a chance to change.”

When you knocked after switching into more comfortable clothes, the door swung open to reveal a significantly more nervous looking Ellie than you’d seen in a while.

“Hi,” you said shyly.

“Hi.” 

You stepped into her, pressing a tentative kiss to the corner of her mouth. When she didn’t react, you pulled back.

“Is everything okay?”

“Do you want to stay over?” Ellie blurted out, her eyes wide and afraid. 

You balked. “Uh, what?”

“You don’t have to,” she said, her eyes dropping to the ground. “I’m sorry. I know we’re not like that. I just thought that—maybe, I dunno, just this once—”

“Yes,” you interrupted. “Please. I’d really like that.” 

“Right. Good. Okay.” She took a deep breath, then laced her fingers through yours to lead you to her bed.

When your mouth found hers again, it was just like on the couch—no intentionally rough or overtly sexual touches, just gentle brushes against your skin and the weight of fingers tangled in your hair as she pulled you further into her.

For the first time since you confessed, you didn’t sleep together. When you two finally tired out, you flopping down on the pillow first, Ellie’s head came to rest on the expanse of skin between your shoulder and your neck, your arms coming around her.

It was strange. For someone so deadly and tough, Ellie suddenly looked so small and fragile curled against you, the rise and fall of her chest synchronized with your breathing. 

“I’m sorry Cat was invited,” Ellie said, her voice muffled from where her face was pressed into your neck.

“What do you mean?”

“I should have told you what her name was. That must’ve been a nasty surprise.”

Her foresight and understanding made your heart ache, deeply. How was it that she could say all these things but not want anything more with you?

“It was alright,” you said. There was no conviction in your tone. “I wouldn’t have expected you to tell me.”

Ellie was silent for a few beats. You knew she was thinking, though; you could feel the flutter of her lashes against you as she blinked.

“How long do you think it’ll take for you to forget me?”

You paused. “What? What do you mean?”

Ellie shifted against you, one of her arms draped over your chest. “I mean, when you go back.”

“Ellie,” you chided, bringing your hand up so you could run your fingers through her hair. “Don’t be ridiculous. As if I’d ever just leave you behind. If I go back there, I’m finding some way to bring you with me. So, no. That’s not even a valid question. I’m never forgetting you.” 

In truth, you hadn’t even begun to consider what you’d do if—when—you were found. You’d been so focused on trying to fit into your new life here that your past had largely just faded into the back, shrinking in the horizon. What you did know, at least, was that even in some dystopian future without Ellie, she’d never be off of your mind.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.” 

“I’m not,” you replied, tapping her shoulder. “I mean it. You’re stuck with me.” 

Her diaphragm vibrated as she let out a short laugh. “Oh, the horrors.” 

She fell silent as you kept threading your fingers through her hair, letting your nails scrape against her scalp. The hand that wasn’t draped over your chest had crept up, her thumb rubbing back and forth as she traced the outline of your jaw.

“I’m sorry,” she said suddenly. “I can be such a sad drunk sometimes. It’s pathetic.”

“It’s okay,” you soothed, your other hand lightly dancing up and down her back. “I think it’s sweet.”

She snorted. “You would.” 

Then, after a few more seconds of silence: “You really weren’t jealous?”

“I never said that.” 

“So she did make you jealous?”

You flicked her shoulder. “Fuck off. Of course she did. Happy?”

“Thrilled.” 

A few moments later, she spoke up again. 

“Can you promise me something?” Her voice was deceptively casual.

“Anything.” You’d give her anything she wanted.

“Promise me that you’ll take the first opportunity to go home,” she said softly. “Promise you won’t do anything stupid.”

“I’ll take the first opportunity to go home as long as I get to have you around, too.” 

You couldn’t see it, but you knew she was rolling her eyes. “Not good enough.”

“You want me to leave that badly?” You weren’t sure if you should be hurt.

“Of course not,” she responded. “I just...I don’t expect you to wait around here for me. I don’t want you to. I want you to be safe.”

“I feel safe with you.”

“Will you just—fucking—say you’ll go?” Her voice sounded raw, tired. 

“Fine,” you said. “I promise.” 

Your words were empty. You couldn’t promise her that. She had to know that. But would it matter? If you never had to make that choice?

In retrospect, you weren’t sure when you drifted off. All you remembered was the warmth of Ellie gathered up in your arms, her measured breath blowing across your exposed neck as you felt the slow, marching rhythm of her heart.

~

When you awoke to the early morning sunbeams streaming in through the window and warming your face, Ellie was passed out cold on top of you. A few unruly strands of her auburn hair had ruffled upwards overnight, sticking to your cheek and threatening the seams of your lips. 

You’d never been happier.

As you thought, running your hand gently up and down the length of her spine, Ellie’s breath hitched.

You froze, thinking you must have woken her.

Then she made a quiet snort. She took another deep breath in, whistling as it went. Her next exhale was louder and caught in her nose. 

You did your best not to laugh enough to wake her.

Ellie snored, even though she wasn’t that loud. The part of you that was still intimidated by her was shrinking by the minute. If only you had known in the beginning that after a long day of bullying you she went back to her room to honk shoo the night away, you never would’ve let it bother you.

She jolted awake, blinking rapidly as she pulled away and looked up at you.

“What the fuck are you laughing about?” she said groggily. “It’s—” She twisted in your arms, squinting at her desk. “It’s 6 in the fucking morning. Shut up.” With that, she flopped back down on top of you, laying one arm over your torso so she could shove it the space under the pillow beside your head. 

“You shut up,” you heard yourself say. 

Ellie smacked your shoulder, not even bothering to lift her head. 

“You snore,” you said, quieter this time. 

“I don’t.”

“You literally do. I was there when it happened.” 

She was silent for a few moments. “Really?”

You pressed your lips to her forehead instead as you trembled from the laugh you were doing your best to rein in.

“Oh, god,” groaned Ellie. “That’s so embarrassing.” 

“I thought it was cute.”

“You think everything I do is cute.” 

“And what about it?”

You settled back in, wrapping your arms around Ellie as you tried to drift back off.

“Do you hear that?” 

Her voice was whispered.

“Hear what?”

“That sound.” 

You let go of her and sat up, your eyes unfocused as you tried your best to tune into whatever Ellie was talking about. Out of the corner of your vision you could see her staring at you with big, nervous eyes.

It took you a moment to notice it. No one could blame you, really. It was hardly a rarity to hear the sound of a plane when you grew up in Terranova. 

“That’s a plane, Ellie,” you said, reaching out to cup her face. “It’s fine.” 

“A plane?” She frowned, still blinking bleariness out of her eyes. “I’ve never heard one before. Joel told me that they stopped being used after the government officially fell.”

“That’s not true,” you corrected. “There’s some in—”

A puzzle piece clicked into place, and with it came a sense of underlying dread. But you shouldn’t be dreading it. It’s what you were hoping for after all, weren’t you? What you’d been praying for since you’d arrived?

“Let’s go outside and look,” you said, nudging her side. “I’m sure it’s nothing.” You were hoping it was nothing. 

Ellie followed you, pulling a throw blanket from her bed and draping it around her shoulders like a cape. She looked so cute like that. You wanted to bite her. Not, like, in a weird blood kink way. Just in a…you didn’t know how to describe it. Better leave it there. 

A lump formed in your throat.

Maybe you were wrong. Maybe this had nothing to do with you.

The air was tepid and pleasant against your bare skin as you two quietly opened the front door and crept onto the porch. The town was quiet. No one was awake at this hour, not unless they were down by the stables or doing night watch. 

There was a sliver of pink and orange hanging over the tops of the mountains, no doubt remnants of what had been a spectacular sunrise. There were still snowy caps on the highest peaks. You hadn’t known that mountains could stay so cold for so long until you’d come to Jackson.

The lump in your throat grew larger.

“Shit,” said Ellie, leaping down from the porch and onto the road. “Do you see this?”

The plane was no longer in sight, but the swirling papers that hadn’t been on the road the night before were left as evidence.

“They must’ve dropped them,” said Ellie excitedly, snatching one from the ground and bounding back up the steps so she was next to you. “What do you think this says?”

You smiled sadly. “Why don’t you read it?”

She unfolded the envelope, ripping open the top and dumping the contents out in her hand. 

“Oh.” 

It was a picture of you. It’d been taken months prior at your family’s Christmas party. You’d worn glittery silver eyeliner and curled your hair. The upper half of your body was in view, clad in a rich red fabric that landed right below your collarbones. A string of creamy white pearls were clasped around your neck, matching the teardrop pearls that hung delicately from your ears. 

HAVE YOU SEEN HER?

There was no other text, but you did notice a divet at the top right corner in the shape of a small oval. 

Terranovan security. Of course. 

Wordlessly, you pressed your thumb into the mold, holding it there for a second as the parchment recorded your print.

Then a paragraph formed at the bottom, ink slowly leaking into the paper.

COME TO THE COORDINATES LISTED BELOW AT EXACTLY NOON, MAY 15TH. A LIFT WILL BE WAITING TO ESCORT YOU.

You’d been found. 

final a/n: sorry not sorry this was the original cliffhanger that i was planning for part 4 all along. you guys are incredible for still sticking around and reading even though this is getting lengthy as hell. anyway i hope you guys enjoyed this sort of different side of ellie before we reach the final act. the plot is abt to reach its peak and i’m hellaaa excited to share it with you. okok let me know what you think! it might take me around the same time it took me to finish part 4 to get part 5 out considering how sick i am/how much i have on my plate, but i promise it’s coming :))

[queensunshinee]

Time Of Our Lives || Part 12

Part 12:

"Your apartment smells funny," Liana said as she entered the building and moved towards the main window. "We can buy a rug for the living room. Do you want one?" she asked after walking around the rooms in Patrick’s apartment. It was small. Living room, kitchen, bedroom, and a bathroom. It had been a month since she settled in the Oxford dorms. Patrick had arrived three days ago, and this was the first time they were meeting.

"Hey Amanda. I missed you too." Patrick leaned against the bedroom doorframe, watching her with amusement. She just couldn’t help it. She had to fix something. She would always find something that needed tidying and organizing. He had learned not to argue with this trait from a young age. He had learned that if he refused, she would withdraw into herself, and it would bother her until she could do something about it.

"Hey." She smiled genuinely and hugged him. Patrick looked almost the same as she remembered. Jet-lagged but pleased with his choices for a change. "Hey..." he refused to let go of her, inhaling her scent deeply like he always did when she allowed him.

"You're here." She took a step back and examined him, as if not believing it was really happening. As if she had been waiting her whole life for this moment. That’s how Patrick decided to interpret her facial expression, even if that’s not what reality was showing him. He would take the current smile any day over another day where she was at a certain point on the map and he was on the other side of the world. "So many possibilities, Amanda." He couldn’t stop smiling. "Let's find you a rug and some pillows for the couch, okay?" she replied, trying to solve the current problem she had found for herself; his apartment.

They wandered around London for hours. Stopped for lunch at a small Italian restaurant. Went into a small museum and did some window shopping at brand stores neither of them could afford. Liana’s laughter filled the space occasionally. A sound Patrick prayed to dream about when he would be alone without her scrutinizing gaze around.

As the sun set, they sat on the grass in a park near Liana’s dorms, each holding an ice cream cone. "I think I found a job," she said, trying to eat as much of the ice cream as she could before it melted completely. "Where?" he asked with curiosity. "There’s a cafeteria in Oxford that sells smoothies and other things that pretentious people willing to pay unreasonable amounts. I’ll probably start next week." She smiled, pleased with herself. "Will you be able to balance it with your studies?" he asked. "I have to try. My parents were barely willing to keep paying for my studies as long as I'm not at Stanford, and I don’t want to take an actual loan just to be able to pay for food. It feels unnecessary and lazy." She shrugged, as if it was self-evident.

"You're tough. You’ll make it. When do classes start?" he asked. "In a week. I’m stressed. But a friend of my roommate, Flor, is starting with me, and I met her. She seems nice." Liana chatted about people she had met in the past month. "You're nice." Patrick smiled his characteristic smile when he tried to dodge the implications of what he was saying. It was a toothy grin that included a dimple. It usually highlighted his eyes, showing something mischievous that at age 20 should have started to fade. But not with Patrick. "You're a jerk." Liana rolled her eyes and punched his shoulder, which automatically made him grab her hand.

Liana couldn’t help but think about Art. About the fact that it was the same gesture. Art had held her just like that at the Christmas party. She pulled her hand back and cleared her throat for a moment. Not wanting to change the atmosphere too much but feeling the shift anyway.

Patrick felt the change too, but it was like background noise. He understood something happened but didn’t know what. This wasn’t the first time he touched Liana. You could say he was a touchy person by nature. It wasn’t new and didn’t characterize just his relationship with her. "What just happened?" he asked with a chuckle, as if it wasn’t really important. As if it wasn’t serious. As if he could breathe properly and wasn’t trying to correct the mistake he made a moment ago. As if he wouldn’t do anything to make her laugh again and not look at him with furrowed brows.

"Nothing. It’s getting late. Shall we go?" she asked, with a smile that didn’t reach her ears. One that showed teeth but not all of them. One that hid from him what she really felt. He hated that smile.

"Patrick! You'll have ants in your house!" Liana scolded. No, she wasn’t just scolding; she was fuming. Three months had passed since Patrick moved to London. His coach, Kirk Fucking Morcich, was objectively the best coach he had ever had. He had improved tremendously. From the moment Patrick decided to take tennis seriously and not just as a way to avoid a real job, he started seeing results.

He still had to attend the annoying courses his parents signed him up for. But he had already won a tournament in Europe. Something he didn’t think would happen, and certainly not so soon.

His parents were proud of him. A strange feeling. An almost unfamiliar feeling. His mother called him and actually said those words, “Hey Pat, your dad and I read about you in the paper. Well done.” And he wanted to find something bad and start a fight because he didn’t know any other way to talk to his mother, but he said “thanks” quietly and felt himself blush. Like a little boy needing a kind word from an adult who was never really responsible. Not for what mattered.

“You can’t just leave your food out like this, Pat.” Liana interrupted his train of thought. “It’s not that bad.” He responded with an eye roll. “Patrick, it’s moldy. It’s been sitting on your table with actual mold. How am I supposed to wash this? It’s disgusting!” she fumed. Her cheeks were red, and her hand moved quickly over her nose.

“You don’t have to wash it. Did I ask you to wash it? Just throw the plate away; I have more plates.” He rolled his eyes again. “Why can’t you take anything seriously?!” Liana nearly stomped her foot. “Did we get married or something? Because this relationship doesn���t have the benefits of marriage, you just yell at me after I haven’t been home for a week.” He sighed and sat on the couch, officially tired of this argument. “No, Patrick, we didn’t get married, and sorry I don’t want you to die of dysentery while you’re living alone.” She shot back, and he heard the plate land in the sink. “So instead of throwing it away, you decided to break it?” He started getting angry too, because lately, that’s how all their conversations looked. Conversations about why he didn’t wash dishes, why he left the milk out, why he didn’t water the plant she bought him, why he didn’t show up at the bar her friend worked at, why he didn’t.

And he just wanted to tell her that if she acted like he was her boyfriend, then she should let him touch her the way he wanted to touch her. But they hadn’t had that conversation yet. He hadn’t told her that when he wasn’t thinking about tennis, he was thinking about her, and to be honest, if he wasn’t thinking about those two things, he was thinking about Art. And he knew she was thinking about Art too. And maybe they needed to have a conversation about fucking Art.

“I didn’t break it. Calm down.” She muttered. Liana had managed to somehow find herself in London. She couldn’t say that about any other period in her life. She enjoyed her studies and had met quite a few new people. People she liked being around. People she wasn’t embarrassed around and felt comfortable drinking wine with. She was a person who enjoyed wine now. Some might say Liana had grown up. She would agree with them.

One time, after drinking wine with her new friends, she called Art. She would say it didn’t happen until her dying day. She wouldn’t have anyone to say it to because he didn’t answer, and she didn’t plan on going around telling the world she drunkenly called Art Donaldson. It was embarrassing.

Patrick was always busy. Tennis. Fucking tennis. She hated tennis so much, and as someone who didn’t even know how to hold a racket properly, she couldn’t escape this terrible game.

So as close as Patrick had been during these months, he was still far away. She had hoped so much that he would be an integral part of this experience. That he would love London as much as she loved London, but he just loved playing tennis in London, and she was losing to the ball and racket again and again throughout her life. “I haven’t seen you in a week. Why are you mad at me?” Patrick stood up, moving towards the kitchen, leaning against the door in his characteristic way. “I’m not mad at you.” She rolled her eyes, her back to him, trying to wash the plate he ruined with food he didn’t clean up in time. “This is pointless.” She muttered to herself. “That passive-aggressive vibe might work with Art. It doesn’t work on me. Either tell me why you’re mad or let me go rest.” He said, not taking his piercing gaze off her back.

“Do you want me to leave?” She turned to him. Her expression made it clear she was hurt. She completely ignored the comment about Art. Patrick didn’t want to keep ignoring comments about Art. “I want you to tell me what you want from me, Liana. I don’t think that’s an unreasonable request.” He started moving towards her. “I don’t want anything from you, Patrick. You’re my friend. We came here together, and I care about you. That’s all.” She shrugged and looked everywhere in the room except his face.

“Liana.” He stood in front of her, demanding. Something in his tone made her look directly at him. “What?” Her voice was quiet. She hated her voice. Why did she always sound so desperate?! “Why are we fighting about dishes when you don’t live here? You understand that’s ridiculous?” He asked, not letting go and not changing his tone out of pity for her soft voice. “I’m not fighting with you. I want you to be reasonable. Do you think I enjoy playing mommy with you?” She asked, raising an eyebrow and folding her arms beneath her chest.

Patrick stared at her chest. He didn’t even try to hide it. Fuck it. “You can’t act like we’re sleeping together while not sleeping with me. That’s absurd.” He realized he had said it only when he saw her eyes widen and her face turn red. “You think I’m hitting on you, Patrick? Is that what you think this is?” She asked, her voice unsteady. She couldn’t believe this was happening to her. She couldn’t believe this was happening to her. She couldn’t believe this was happening to her. God. Why is this happening to her? “Eat from your disgusting plate with mold for all I care. I won’t say a word.” She said and tried to move past him. It was her cue to leave before this conversation escalated. He pulled her back with a quick but not overly forceful hand movement. She knew he had a lot more strength in him. She knew he was fire. In the pair Fire and Ice, he would always be Fire. “Patrick.” Her weak voice almost whispered. “You’re not hitting on me?” He asked, also in a low voice. He seemed relatively calm considering the storm of emotions within him.

Patrick decided he had nothing more to lose. He was improving. He was maturing. He asked his parents for help. He had moved halfway across the world to be close to her. He was becoming the best version of himself. And to be honest, Patrick knew that if Liana had settled for the mediocre and basic version of Art, there was no reason he shouldn’t at least try. So Patrick decided to try.

“No...” She bit her lip and looked at him without breaking eye contact. “Bullshit.” He laughed. He just laughed in her face and didn’t release his hold. “You’re walking around my apartment, dressed in short clothes in fucking December in London. Getting mad about plates. Liana. Even you can’t be that naive about what this does to me after a week of a tournament. A grueling week of victories without anyone to celebrate my success.” He considered kissing her neck at that moment. He thinks she would let him. Now, looking at her, he was sure she would let him do whatever he wanted with her. And he was a greedy bastard. He wanted everything.

“Liana. Look at me.” He demanded. Not letting go. She looked. “Why are we fighting?” He asked. The stern tone made her blink. “I missed you.” She said, defeated.

“It’s really hard when you’re supposedly here but not really here, and I know you’re here for tennis, but I wanted you to be here for me too, and it’s okay if we have separate lives here, I do too—” Patrick cut off her endless ramblings because he knew she wouldn’t stop talking if it was up to her. His lips found hers, and his hands held the back of her head. and somehow she actually kissed him back.

The feeling of Patrick’s lips on hers was different from the feeling of Art’s lips. Liana hated herself for comparing him to Art. She wondered if every person who will kiss her would automatically be compared to the person who hurt her the most. She wondered if that’s how she would live the rest of her life. And during these existential thoughts, she realized the bitter truth. Art Donaldson would be a part of her forever.

“Pat. Wait. We can’t. We can’t do this.” She put a small hand on his chest, and he took a step back. Because when a girl told Patrick she wanted to stop, he stopped. “Why can’t we?” He didn’t look amused. He looked angry and hungry and tired, all in the once. In the same body movements. “You know why” Liana sighed.

Silence fell in his kitchen.

"You don't owe him anything," Patrick stated. This time he felt like he's the one who could stomp his foot like a kid in the middle of a tantrum.

"I know." She bit her lip.

"I don't owe him anything," he said, this time not looking at her. Because if she saw his face, she'd know he was lying to himself. Liana always saw him. She saw him stripped of defenses. And his biggest defense right now was tied to the girl in front of him and the fact that they both missed Art. And he did owe him the love of his life.

Because Liana still didn't know what Patrick and Art both knew clearly; Patrick had won. She would be his the moment he decided so.

"Liana. Please let me kiss you." His voice was weak, and his gaze shifted to her. His eyes still screamed fire. Fire. Fire. Danger. Run. Fire. Stay away. Get closer. Fire. Danger. Fire. "Liana." He said again, closer now, breathing the same air she breathed. The air she exhaled entered his lungs. He moved his hand back to her neck. The other hand, unashamedly, grabbed her ass in a half-pinch. It was a grip that didn't retreat, didn't regret, didn't shy away. As if he was born to hold her exactly like this. Exactly how he wanted. "Patrick." She didn't recognize the sound that escaped her mouth out of surprise, but she recognized Patrick's smile just a second before his lips were on hers again. Patrick had decided.

Hey thereeee It's London and it's Patrick's time to shine. What are we feeling about everything? Talk to me. I'm dying to know what you're thinking as usual.

taglist: @lamoursansfin @marley1773 @ruyaas-world @apolloscastellan @primlovesdilfs @fangirl-kimora @serenadingtigers @imbabycowboy @do-it-for-kicks @izzywags478 @4deline08 @igotmajordaddyissues @jackierose902109 @ganana @yoitsme-04 @swetearss

[thebelugawhalefriend]

Many Loving Kisses - Yan!Royal Harem x Reader

PART TWO

CW: Yandere themes, Fem reader, Homophobia, Polyamory, FxF and MxF, Slight mentions of religion

Note: This is based on a dream I had a while back that actually opened up the idea of polyamory being healthy to me. While the dream involved an emperor from Japan and his harem, I'm very worried about writing for a culture I'm not completely learned up on. So! I've written it to fit a Medieval setting ^^

"The King has requested your daughter's hand in marriage." A messenger read from his scroll upon a white stallion, your parents looking on in shock. "His Majesty? But... Why our daughter?" Your mother starts, but her partner puts her hand on your mother's shoulder. "Do you dare ask why our gracious King would bestow upon you a dowry for your daughter? After he pardoned the unholy sanctity of your union?" It's then your other mother, "Auntie", steps in with venom in her tone. "Now you listen here, you brute... My wife didn't dare insult the king! She simply asked why he would want to take our only child away from us. Disgracing our union is unnecessary!"

To this, the messenger seethes. Withdrawing from his horse, the towering brute of a man steps closer to your mothers. "He did request that anyone unwilling to hand over the bride to be shall be taken to be executed. Would you prefer I end your lives? I'll be more than happy to-"

"Stop!" You immediately waved your arms up, trying to get in the middle of the dispute, "I'll go- please! Just don't hurt my mom and auntie...!" It was now their turn to look upon you with shock. "Baby..." Your mother lifts her hands to hold your face. "You don't have to do this. We'll do anything to keep you safe-" "Mama, it's not worth sacrificing your lives over something like a marriage. I love you both too much to see someone take your lives..."

Sundown's pink hues darken the skies as you wave your final goodbyes to your moms. To ensure you wouldn't change your mind, some of the men who had tagged along with the messenger tied you tight and carried you upon horseback. While your parents were paid a great sum for your hand, you couldn't help but worry about what the king's wife would think. How would this work? Would she be okay with the king having you as a second wife? Of course, his first wife will still be Queen... But what will you be?

Nightfall approaches as soon as the men who carried you in tow arrive at the gates. The king, in all his glory, looks upon the arriving carrivan with great disdain. The messenger leads on with pride in his chest and eyes. "My King, we've brought your bride to be as you requested!" "And you tied her like an animal to a slaughter?!" The king's sharp tone immediately deflated the messenger's ego. "I- uhm- It wasn't I who requested she be bound like that! Men, what have you done to our lady? At least treat the maiden with class!" The crew hastily undoes your ties as the messenger puffs out his chest yet again. Though, the king seems unimpressed.

"I've had quite enough trouble with the likes of you, Stephen. You treat your job as if I bestowed upon you a knight's status... One more misuse of your power and I'll have you imprisoned for the rest of your days." His golden eyes now fall upon you, gaze softening upon seeing your figure. "As for her, let her come and follow me. She's to be acquainted with my wife before any plans are set in motion."

Now, it's hard to not fall for a king so handsome. Stunning muscular features, a chiseled face as if a sculptor carved him from marble, and long curls of red hair pulled onto a loose ponytail. Freckles mark his face and skin like stars and constellations, with multitudes of scars connecting them. You start to wonder if God personally painted him to look like a galaxy... "I do apologize for how my men have treated you. It's difficult to find men as honorable as my own knights, dearest (Y/N)."

"You... Know my name, Your Highness...?"

"Why wouldn't I? You've been all my wife has been talking about for the past few weeks! It took me the longest time to come around to the idea but... One look of who she spoke of and I couldn't agree faster."

"King Fl-"

"Please, you may call me Rose." His smile is so warm, it brought your face to a rosy red. The tenderness of his words... That spark in his eye... It's hard to believe that this would be yours to even have, not to mention have his wife willing to share!

Once you both happen upon an ornate willow door, Rose gives it a gentle knock. "Darling?" A soft voice calls from inside the room. "Is that you?" "Yes, my dearest wife! I have brought someone you'd most adore to meet..." "Oh! But Rose, I'm just about indecent! Visitors can't gaze upon me right now..." The red haired man rolls his eyes with a bright smile, "Oh, alright, I suppose (Y/N) can wait a few moments longer."

With that, the door creeps open. "Please, let her come in!" You swallow a large lump in your throat, trotting in carefully. The inside of the room is spacious and rather decorated- even for a queen. Paintings of fables and animals decorate the walls, each framed with delicately carved wood. Walls themselves were murals of flowers and leaves, furniture threatening to overflow with delicate knick knacks and jewelry. What catches your eyes is the large pink bed with sheer canopies of white hanging over. On the sheets sit a tall and curvy woman. Eyes a striking purple and hair as black as a raven's plumage. What stands out most about her are her larger than life scars along her collarbone. While Rose's own were small, hers looked like she had fought a wild beast... The only thing that covers her is a purple nightgown, only going so far as to cover most of her thighs.

"You must be (Y/N)." She stands from the bed, brushing off her legs and looking at you with a bright smile. The mere sight of her vulnerability brings a deep blush back to your cheeks. "M-My Lady... I'm honored to... Uhm... Meet you!" You try to curtsey, but the queen merely laughs at your attempt and approaches your feeble form. "Please, there is no need for formality, little one! From now on, you can call me Azalea. But, any amount of nicknames will do." With that, she reaches her hands to your face and cups them along your jawline. "Look at you... You're so beautiful... So joyous and kind... I knew from the moment I saw you, I would love to have you marry my husband and I!"

It wasn't too long ago you met the queen. Only about a month, if you had to make a guess. She had been making her rounds along town in disguise despite her husband's protests. That's when she happened upon your family's stall. Adorned with colors and beads, it immediately was obvious that you were all selling jewelry. "Greetings!" You beamed from the stall, the queen's attention caught on you. "Would you... Actually, hold on a moment." The curious monarch watched on as you picked through one of the racks of necklaces. From them, you picked a particular piece- An orange and red beaded necklace with a ruby as the showpiece. "You look like someone who could use a little more red-"

"Oh no, I can't- I'm sorry, I don't have any..." While the Queen fretted this potential trick, you put your hands onto her own. "I didn't say you had to pay for the piece. I... Actually made that one myself. I would be honored to have someone as beautiful as you wear it." She was quick to catch onto your "flirting", to which she laughed and looked into you. "If I didn't have a husband, I would snatch you right up! If only men were so flattering as you are." You gave her a little look of confusion, "I didn't mean to try and take you as my own- Oh, but I would if you wanted me to-! Just uh! Uhm..." That assumption brought a great fluster to your face. "I genuinely mean it, miss. I have a great feeling about you! I don't often get them but... Mom says when you get that feeling, you just have to... Put it into action. Does that make sense?" The tall woman laughed again, "Absolutely not, but I appreciate the gift you've given me. Perhaps fortune will be as giving as you are..."

At the time, you didn't even realize just what her status was. It wasn't until this very moment of her hold on your face that you finally could recognize her.

"You were that lady I met last month, weren't you?" Azalea beams with amusement, her familiar laugh ringing in your ears, "It took you long enough to figure that out! Ah, but don't you worry about it, just proves my disguise is effective." As she keeps you in conversation, her body urges you to join her on the bed. By that, it's merely a hand pulling you to the mattress and a gentle push urging you to sit. With you next to Azalea, Rose peeks right in with curiosity.

"How are my wonderful girls?" He steps right in, Azalea sticking her tongue out and pulling you in for a protective hug. "This one shall be my own wife! You can't have her, Rose!" Her tone is playful, but for a moment, you could have sworn you saw that primal desire of possessiveness. "Oh, you wound me, darling! I paid her dowry, only for her to be snatched away?" He comes in closer, leaning into his wife with that exact same look. "I don't think so... Come here!"

The redhead pulls you and Azalea in for a tight embrace. Between his muscular chest and Azalea's soft breasts, you're sure you will suffocate under this pile of affection. Though, it isn't long until he pulls away to let you breathe. "Goodness, my apologies (Y/N)! I should be more careful with my two favorite flowers..."

Their gentleness and affection all reminds you of your moms. How they would shower you with affection and each other with love. It brings a certain ache to your heart, but... You'll see them again, right?

"King- Sorry, Rose?" "Yes, my flower?" "What will become of my moms?" Your freckled lover pauses for a moment, "Your mothers? What of them? They've been compensated for your dowry." "When will I see them again?" This time, Azalea comes in to answer. Her limbs wrap around you and pull you into her lap by the waist. "Oh, my dear, we can't have you wandering about in public! You'll be a spectacle out there! Besides, you'll already have a lady who will care for you every day..."

"But... What of my friends?"

"What of them? They'll get to watch you marry us! Besides, you'll have a man who will be your company from dawn until dusk." While Azalea holds you, Rose brings a hand to your chin and strokes it lovingly. That facade of care was quickly starting to feel like a trap you've fallen into.

"That's... Lovely and all! I really do appreciate that I'll be spending my days with you both. I just worry that... Well, you both have many duties as king and queen. Surely I could be allowed outside...?" Both of the lovers freeze. It's as if you admitted to murder! The tension of the room grows thick like butter, with Rose's gaze turning from soft to absolutely enraged. Yet, his tone is still calmed. Too calm.

"My darling little flower..." His grip on your face tightens, "The outside is far too dangerous for you to venture into. You're to stay here with us and be our company. Do you understand me?" Your eyes widen and you nod feverishly, Rose letting out a sigh and pulling back. Azalea turns you slightly so you could look into her honeyed look using those familiar amethyst eyes. "Don't let it scare you so easily, loveliest... We love you! We won't hurt you if we don't have to. We'll keep you safe here... No matter how hard it'll be!"

[sunset-bobby]

“i feel like season 3 had too many side plots and wasn’t focused on Colin and Penelope enough” blah blah blah

bruh it’s an ensemble show…in season 2 there were also plenty of side plots

all of the side plots in season 3 were somewhat important

Francesca, Benedict, and Violet’s romantic escapades are all perfectly good side plots considering the show is called Bridgerton and is about all of them whether it’s their “season” or not and say what u want abt Benedict being a whore but is that not gonna make it more of a build up when he does settle down?

Cressida’s side plot is literally supposed to forward the Whistledown storyline while also making us like empathize with her (to an extent) i think it’s trying to give us like a false sense of like oh maybe she’s changing oop no she’s not but Cressida has always played a role in Penelope’s story as her antagonist

Lady Danbury and her brother I mean this ties into Violet’s story and also Lady Danbury is a main character and u should all watch Queen Charlotte end of discussion speaking of the plot for her like war against Whistledown has literally been continuous since season 1

The Featherington side plots have also been consistent since season 1 and also they’re all so silly and also it Penelope’s family ofc they’re gonna have side plot

so what that leaves the Mondrichs…at this point just say u hate black people idk. I feel like they weren’t even that big in part 2 so the complaints are unnecessary like they’re big thing was the ball being their ball which concluded their season 3 arc of joining society, Will trying to keep one foot out of it, and the ball is them officially cementing themselves as members of the Ton and also the ball does further the plot of the Whistledown story as Cressida shows up with her version of the column

i think that yea we could have gotten more Collin and Penelope..part 1 we weren’t angry enough and part 2 we were angry for too long…there wasn’t enough physical connection to juxtapose the restraint on their emotional relationship like..i saw someone say angry sex on their wedding night woulda made the like stewing anger more angsty and i agree, but i digress

their story arc was still good and i was still invested and the side plots were important to the overall story and also leading into next season so idk complain to the wall 🤷🏽‍♀️

[colorful-craze]

Just finished The Reckoning of Roku…I definitely have some thoughts about Kyoshi’s lackluster characterization. (Spoilers obviously!)

First of all, this portrayal of her seems to have a lot of the same problems that NATLA has: turning into what the vast majority of the fandom thinks she is, a cold, stony killer, and ignoring all the development and characterization that she got in her novels (not to mention her TRUE character and personality). I don’t believe that unnecessary brutality would be something that she grows into; it would be something that she grows OUT OF. Especially since she already HAD that arc in her books, specifically TSOK, when she was shown struggling with how far she should go and questioning her choices, not to mention expressing regret over any unnecessary violence she exhibited.

I also find it extremely difficult to believe that Kyoshi (even after nearly two centuries) would ever stop seeing the value in individual lives. She lost so many people who were close to her at a such a young age, and she expresses so much care and concern for the lives of both her loved ones and innocents. She knows the perspective of loss too well to ever turn into some mindless killing machine. And living for so long would only emphasize the value of the lives around her, as she would have had to go through that loss over and over again.

I don’t think she would have refused to listen to reason, either, ESPECIALLY if it’s from a companion of over twenty years!

The last thing is that even if she DID change near the end of her life…that mindset would not be the one that she carries into the afterlife (or wherever the dead avatars end up). In ATLA, we see her giving Aang good, solid advice, that—despite what the fandom tends to think—does not advocate for just indiscriminately killing anyone who opposes you. She was levelheaded and calm, but she wasn’t cold and empty the way she seemed in RoR. Kyoshi was a pursuer of justice, obviously, but she would know what kind of justice was deserved.

I know this is kinda long but I just had a lot of issues with the way that Kyoshi was portrayed as the fandom-popular cold blooded killer, ignoring all of her existing canon characterization and character development and arcs. It felt kind of lazy and uninspired. The book overall was alright but this part of it was definitely not my favorite.

[helplesslypurple77]

AU Week: Detective AU(Dazai/Reader)

Summary:

“Remember Dazai.” You hiss in his ear, as the servant by the door rings the knocker for you. “As of now, I'm your wife.” “I know darling.” He says, giving you a reassuring pat on the back. Your stomach whirls to life, butterflies, leaping and bounding inside you. You don't know if you’ll survive the night, truly

Warnings: Smut~

Notes: I grew up with Nancy Drew, can you blame me? Also at some point the word count got away from me and i had to gloss over the actual mystery bits to get to the smut

then i also simplify the smut a little at the end but it got wayyyyyy to long

...

Even after so many years, the sight of dead bodies still made your stomach curl. You supposed it would never change, that disgusting stench of death, the quiet reverence that permeated the air as you stood before the body, the mangled body of a young woman, life cut much too short. And even though you loved your job, this was most definitely your least favorite part.

The grimy streets of London were as they usually were, dark and unpleasant. The streetlights scattered every ten feet did their best to cut through the blanket of fog that fell at dusk, hiding the surroundings from even the keenest eye. The rain fell in a mist, having been caught in the tail end of its fall. It always rained in London. You didn't mind, you actually liked the dreary atmosphere, as long as you weren't actually in the rain. You preferred to look upon it from inside a warm house. 

“How tragic.” Dazai, your investigation partner says, reaching for another chip. He's holding a large bag of them, and as you eye them distastefully he crumples up the empty bag, tossing it into the garbage can. You take a deep, deep breath, letting it out through your nose in one big gust of air. Every day you come one step closer to simply ending it all. 

Dazai Osamu is brilliant, that's obvious. Able to solve impossible cases with the barest bits of evidence, to track down serial killers and trick them into confessing. He’s so brilliant, you don't know why he even needs you to be his investigative partner, but he keeps you around, for some reason. You’ve never asked. Perhaps to field the questions he doesn't care to deal with. Or to foil his dumb antics. Or for comic relief. 

“Let us investigate, my partner.” Dazai says, grandly swiping a magnifying glass out of his pocket. You take a deep, deep breath. 

“Dazai, you shouldn't bring snacks to a crime scene.” You say, mostly for the benefit of the confused police officer standing in the back of the room. 

“But that's so boring.” Dazai says loudly, attracting a few angry stares from the police officers scattered across the sight. You send them all small apologetic glances. It's smart to remain on good terms with these officers, because as soon as your small detective Agency loses the trust of the police, you lose cases, and when you lose cases, you can't pay rent. 

The body is more gruesome up close, mangled in a totally unnecessary way. Her face is untouched, preserved perfectly in death, but her body is a mess. Her stomach is completely opened up, organs spilling onto the wet sidewalk, blood mixing with the pools of rainwater that run down the street, small red rivers, dashing away downtown. Why does it always rain, you’ll never know. But it always rains in London, that you could count on. 

She’s dressed well, in a fine evening gown and sparkling jewels. Her handbag is lying a few feet away, strangely untouched. Dazai leans down, carefully inspecting her rain soaked face. 

“Her jewelry is still on her.” You notice, probably stating the obvious. “You’d think the perp would have stolen it. Those are fine jewels.” 

Dazai rolls his eyes in your direction. “Obviously, this was a crime of passion.” Dazai says, poking the dead woman's cheek curiously. He says the words like you should already know, and you fight back the urge to roll your eyes. Dazai can grate on the nerves, his assumption that everyone is as smart as him is egregiously wrong. You try not to let his tone affect you in any way. 

“Is she wearing makeup?” Dazai directs this at you, and you lean down, carefully inspecting her face. This is one area that Dazai lacks, women's makeup and fashion. 

“Yes, she’s obviously dressed for a social engagement. A date or a fancy dinner.” You say, stomach turning as you try your best to avoid the more disturbing area’s, like the stomach. You dislike this part immensely, looking at the dead bodies of people who were just like you once. It makes your thoughts turn dark, scary, and entirely unnecessary. You sigh. 

“Wasn't there a ball this evening? A sponsored event I think.” You say, directing this at the police officers standing behind you. It's raining, and yet they stand there, scarily still. Their uniforms were wet with rain. 

“A charity ball, sponsored by the Stonewall Corp, Ma’am.” The officer on the right, a handsome young man with a sad-looking face says. You shoot him a thankful smile, and watch as his cheeks flush a little. He’s cute, thin and pale with small eye bags under his gray blue eyes. If you weren't on a murder investigation and bogged down with unrequited feelings of love for your dumb(at least when it came to emotions) partner, you would flirt a little, maybe find the time to sneak off for some ‘fun time’ but alas that's highly inappropriate. Dazai coughs from next to you, still crouching near the body. 

“Flirting at a murder scene is in bad taste.” He says, as if he was not just eating an entire bag of chips, in front of a dead body. You take a deep, deep breath, inhaling the smell of the wet london streets, and holding onto your patients with all your might. Dazai is a brilliant man, intelligent and kind but he was also tactless, rude, and a terrible flirt. And maybe it was because of your ill fated crush on him, but every time he criticizes you, every time you felt unwanted and useless, a deep well of sadness opened up in your heart, sucking at your soul and wringing out every ounce of self worth you possessed. It was tragic and pathetic and your patience was running thin. You had been feeling especially emotional and broken lately, and Dazai’s carefree attitude was grating at your nerves. 

“Tell me oh so amazing detective, have you finished.” You say, tapping your foot insistently against the wet pavement. “Because I'm cold and wet and I want to go home.” You sound bratty and childish, but you can't bring yourself to care, not right now.

“Geez, cool your jets partner.” Dazai says, giving the body one last ounce over. “Fine, we can go. Hey you there.” He directs this part at the police officer standing behind him, an older gentleman who looks very, very tired. 

“Send us an investigation into this woman.” Dazai continues. You shoot both police officers apologetic winces as Dazai pulls his brown coat closer around him, meandering away from the crime scene. You move to follow him.

“Wait Miss, let me walk you home.” It's the police officer from before, the handsome one with the gray eyes. He pulls out an umbrella, holding it over your head. You shoot him a grateful smile. It feels nice to be admired for ounce. He blushes, scratching the back of his head to hide it. 

“It's dangerous this late at night.” He says, voice trailing off towards the end. 

“No need.” Dazai jumps in, suddenly reappearing in between you and the cute officer rather rudely. The officer jumps back skittishly, giving a defeated little sigh as he tries to protest. 

“At least take my umbrella Miss, it looks like it's going to rain.” He says, pressing the umbrella into your grateful hands. And with one last tip of his cap, he's gone. 

“It always rains, it's london,” Dazai says, once again heading along the back street. You follow him, your heels clicking on the soaked pavement. The clicks echo about the empty street, accompanied by Dazai’s loud humming and truly unnecessary comments. You roll your eyes in Dazai’s direction. 

“Would it kill you to be a little nicer? The police do their best, you know that.” You say, opening the umbrella with a click. The rain begins to come down in earnest, and Dazai ducks under the umbrella as well, crowding into you. 

The two of you turn a corner, entering the shopping district. It's late, and most shops have already closed their doors. The only light comes from the street lights, casting rings of light onto the soaked pavement. 

Dazai grumbles faintly, something you can't quite hear. You sigh. 

“So, any ideas?” You say, extending a little bit of an olive branch. You really do appreciate your partner, and you love him as well, even though he can be childish and annoying. You value his time and intelligence greatly. 

Dazai sighs out a great breath, as you turn the corner onto the street that houses your little detective office. 

“Just a few things, we don't even know who she is yet.” He sounds tired, and a little depressed, and as the rain starts coming down harder than before the two of you sprint towards the office. 

You lock the door behind you with a decisive click, you're not taking any chances. The office is dark, but you can make out the familiar shape of the secretaries desk, and the darkened typewriter. You make your way up the back stairs, Dazai on your heels and open the door to your warm apartment. You share it, to cut rent costs. It's also conveniently placed right above the office. There are two people already in the room, sitting by the fire. 

Dr Yosano, one of the people you share the apartment with, is a very old friend of Dazai’s, and a great person to have around when one of you stumbled home, potentially very badly injured. She works as a doctor by day, and sometimes disappears at night. You don't ask her where she goes, she honestly scares you a little. But she’s a very kind woman, who’s known you for years now. She’s sitting across from the fireplace, a book in one hand and a glass of red wine in the other.

Atsushi is curled up in an armchair, textbooks and handwritten notes scattered out on the coffee table in front of him, little sighs gusting from his half parted lips. Atsushi is only eighteen, and studying to become a professor of literature one day. A good childhood friend of yours for many years, you considered him a little brother of sorts. You smile in Yosano’s direction, leaning down to press a kiss to Atsushi’s sleeping forehead gently. The poor boy overworks himself, always trying his best to keep up with some of the weirdos who go to his school. He’s a kind boy, good natured and handsome, and a bit oblivious. There's always a bunch of innocent college girls coming up to you, asking after him, yet he never notices. 

“So, how was it?” Yosano says, her voice pitched low so as to not wake Atsushi. You sink onto the couch beside her, your skirts brushing against your tights. You're wearing darker colors, a dark navy blue and black striped walking suite. You love this particular outfit, and the dark colors match the dark weather. Your skirts rustle around your feet as you lean down, pulling off your black kitten heels. You take off your hat, placing it gently on the coffee table away from Atsushi’s notes. 

“Gruesome. The body was mangled. Unnecessarily I might add.” You say, sinking back into the couch cushions with a sigh. Dazai hums behind you, hanging his brown coat on the rack. 

“Obvious crime of passion. None of her jewelry was stolen. And her face was completely intact.” Dazai sighs, sinking into the armchair opposite Atsushi’s sleeping form. “She was coming from some sort of charity ball? High society and the like.” He scoffs, his opinion on the upper class as clear as ever. You close your eyes as you let your body sink back into the soft fabric of the couch. It's late, and you can feel sleep tugging at you, pulling at your limbs and urging you to fall deep under, into a quiet, peaceful, sleep. You wish to obey. 

“Dazai? ‘M going to bed.” You murmur, taking a deep breath and slowly getting to your feet. You arch your back with a crack, and trudge towards the room you share with Yosano. He hums noncommittal in your direction, and Yosano sends you a small, tired goodnight. 

☂☂☂

The next few days are filled with boring, boring interviews. Interviews with relatives of the poor girl, interviews with her slimy brother, and interviews with her weepy rich boyfriend. But you get a few good things out of it. One, Dazai solves the case. And two, you get a free vacation.

“She was going to attend this mansion party.” The boyfriend of the dead woman tells you, swiping at his nonstop tears with a soaking wet handkerchief. “At the digression of a billionaire.” 

Her boyfriend is a rather ugly man, portly and balding but kind and sensitive. He hands you a small envelope sealed with a red wax seal. 

“I just know she would have wanted you to have it. I'm entrusting it to you.” He says, bowing his head in thanks and standing up to leave. 

The whole thing was a wash, a confusing mess of emotions and hidden words that you don't want to sort through, but as you and Dazai sit there, in the front office with that envelope in your hand. 

“You know.” You start, sitting back against the hard wooden back of your chair, “I wonder if this is what it feels like to strike gold.” 

Dazai spares you a small chuckle, before he stands up, stretching with a yawn. “Better get packing, partner.” He says, shooting you a smile. “We're going on a trip. And it looks like we're getting married.”

☂☂☂

“This place is huge.” You whisper in Dazai’s ear, gloved hand hooked in his elbow. You whisper the words, almost smacking him with the brim of your hat. You're wearing another walking suit, because it's raining, again, and you don't want to ruin your nicer dresses for this farce. 

The dress is a pretty brown, trimmed in black lace and ribbon, and matches Dazai’s brown and white suit well, in a way that says ‘we’re married and get our clothes tailored by the same person’. Because as of now, as you step through the threshold of the massive ivy-covered mansion, you are married. 

“Remember Dazai.” You hiss in his ear, as the servant by the door rings the knocker for you. “As of now, I'm your wife.” 

“I know darling.” He says, giving you a reassuring pat on the back. Your stomach whirls to life, butterflies, leaping and bounding inside you. You don't know if you’ll survive the night, truly.

The door opens with a crack, an older man with hair as silver as a coin peeks out. His eyes are beady, suspicious and angry as he looks the two of you up and down. You try not to fidget, standing straight and tall like you’re supposed to be there.

“Mr and Ms Osamu Dazai? Your invitation.” The butler says, eyeing you suspiciously. You try not to fidget with your wedding ring, hidden under the pair of brown leather gloves you wear.

“Yes, here.” Dazai says, passing the invitation over. “I guess you were informed of the change?” He sounds as careless as ever, but in this situation, it actually works in his favor. He sounds just like a rich newlywed husband, taking his new wife on a fine vacation to the countryside. You clutch his arm tighter, nodding at the butler dismissively. 

“I just really wanted to go, you know, and my darling Osamu managed to get an invite for me.” You giggle, playing up the young and in love. “Oh, you’re such a dear.” You simper, planting a lipstick kiss boldly on his cheek. His chest puffs up and he grins at you, sending the caretaker a side eye.

“Can you hurry it along? My wife is offly tired from the road.” Dazai says, and his voice portrays the air of someone who finds it very annoying to be doing something as tedious as checking identities. You reach up, adjusting the top hat that sits upon his head. The caretaker fixes the two of you with an unimpressed stare, but steps aside. 

“Very well, i’ll show you to your room then.” He says, ushering the two of you inside. The door shuts with a slam behind you, and you're suddenly surrounded by eerie silence. The large hallway is empty, and cold with portraits lining the walls. Their grand portraits, of stern looking men and women, positioned so they are looking down upon each person that steps foot inside the mansion. You dislike each of them immediately, but a stern looking woman dressed in an unpleasant blue dress stands out to you. She seems to be watching you specifically, and you clutch Dazai’s arm tighter, turning away from the unpleasant painting. 

The grand hall is big, arched ceilings support a large crystal chandelier that throws beams of light across every surface, be it the wooden paneled floor or the green wallpaper that lines the walls. The entire room is quiet, although faintly in the distance you can hear the sounds of a piano. You lean close to Dazai, whispering directly in his ear. 

“This place is so spooky babe.” You stage whisper, eyeing the butler out of the corner of your eye. 

“Don't be impolite darling.” Dazai stage whispers back. “Not everyone can have your suburb taste.” 

“Welcome to the Crowley Estate, Mr and Ms Dazai. You’re our last guests to arrive.” The Butler says, leading you up a large twisting staircase, wrought iron handling and wooden steps. Your heels make loud noises in the mostly abandoned room. Every now and then you can catch the faint glimpse of a maid, dashing back and forth and then disappearing into one of the doors on the landing. 

The Butler leads you down a hall, your footsteps vanishing into the carpeted floor. The doorknobs are silver, the many colored doors at odds with the green wallpaper. You eye them, taking note of any strange details. 

“You guys are in room seven. Dinner is in thirty minutes. Do not be late.” The Butler says. And then he turns on his heel and leaves. You sigh. 

“What a lovely man.” You say, turning the knob to room seven and stepping inside the room. 

☂☂☂

The maid leads you and Dazai to the dining room twenty minutes later. You're still attached at the hip, and as you open the large doors with a creek, the panicked chatter in the room dies. There's a small circle of people in the room, gathered around something, obscuring it from your view. And because you’ve seen this exact scene go down a few to many times, you have a bad feeling you know exactly what happened.

Arm still hooked in Dazai’s, you walk forward, half dreading the sight you know you’ll see when you arrive. The half circle of eccentrically dressed people part like the red sea, and what you see in the middle makes you cringe. 

The body of the butler, laying face down in the carpet with an axe buried deep in his back. You take a deep breath, and start your theatrics.

“Oh Hubby.” You say, turning dramatically and throwing yourself in your ‘husbands’ waiting arms. “It's a dead body baby. Oh that's so scary!” You say, your voice whiny and annoying even to your own ears. 

Dazai pats you on the back reassuringly. “What is going on here? Can't you see, my wife is deeply disturbed by this?” He says, as you cry fakely into his jacket. “She has a very delicate constitution.” He informs the crowd of confused people that watch your theatrics. You clutch his shoulders, forcing real tears to ruin your makeup. 

“Oh ‘Samu, our vacation is absolutely ruined!” You say, pulling away from his coat to stair beseechingly into his eyes. “And I was so looking forward to it. Whatever shall we do?” 

Dazai puts on an admittedly convincing look, eyes suddenly glued to your lips. Your heart is in your throat, beating an unsteady rhythm as the two of you stand chest to chest, your matching wedding rings flashing in the lowlight. All you can see is his eyes, the strange expression that sits on his face, all you can hear is your heartbeat in your ears, all you can feel is him. 

“Well.” Dazai starts, his voice all breathy and low. “I guess we’ll just have to make our own fun then darling.” 

The world around you is gone. The other people in the room are simply gone. The dead body lying on the floor in a pool of blood is gone. All you can see is Dazai. His eyes lidded, locked on your lips. You pull your bottom lip into your mouth, chewing it lightly and he takes a breath in. And suddenly he’s moving closer. His eyes are still locked on your lips, and you feel your own eyes fall closed, your fingers notting in the fabric of his jacket and then—

Someone coughs, and you open your eyes, suddenly remembering that there is a dead body and six confused strangers in the room with you. You move away, flustered. 

“Is this really the time?” A woman says. She's an older woman, maybe in her late fifties, dressed finely in a periwinkle blue dress and a silver animal fur of some kind. She hides her annoyed expression well, but you can still see it in her eyes. The other occupants of the room nod.

They are an odd group, all dressed in finery and dripping with money. Their wealth drips off them, and if you weren't busy throwing a kind of fit, you would cringe away from them. They give off the air of people who think they are very important, far more important than those ‘commoners’. But right now, you are those people.  You take a deep breath, and continue on with the theatrics. 

☂☂☂

“What a waste of time.” You say, closing the door behind the two of you. The minute the door shuts you sink down into a chair, the exhaustion clear in your body language. 

Dazai chuckles to himself, hanging his brown coat on the coat hanger by the door. 

“They're all annoying, but none of them are murderers.” He says, placing his hat on the coffee table and checking his watch. 

You spent the rest of the evening in the room, deftly feilding the flying accusations that spun around the room, and doing your best to convince them that you’re a young and in love couple. 

“You think they believed us?” You ask, turning your eyes on Dazai. He sinks down next to you, shooting you a wink.

“You were very convincing.” He says, siding closer to you on the couch. You tamp down the butterflies in your stomach, outwardly rolling your eyes. As much as you wish his flirting was only for you, you know that's to the contrary. Although for some reason, lately he’s really stopped his flirting. Maybe he finally got tired of being rejected. And it wasn't flirting, it was double suicide invitations. Somehow, even though the man annoys you to no end, the butterflies still whirl around your stomach, your palms become sweaty and your heart beats double time. You hate him, just because of what he’s reduced you to. But you know you love him.

Dazai stands with a groan, stretching his arms above his head. “Well my Darling wife.” He says, shooting you an exaggerated wink. “I'm off to bathe. Won't be long.” He says, yanking one of the fluffy towels that the maid had left and soldering off to the bathroom. You give a noncommittal hum in return, and when the door slams behind him you start the process of getting ready for bed. 

First the outer jacket is taken off, folded and carefully placed in the dresser. Usually you would have a maid help you undress, but you were very suspicious of everyone in this house, be it staff or guests, and although it was hard you would rather just do it yourself. The outer skirt is taken off, then the thin layer of petticoats and the shaping pads and the pretty lace trimmed corset until you're left in just your silk and lace chemise. It was a pretty one, one of your favorites and unusually short, reaching about mid thigh. It was trimmed in layers of lace and the edges brushed your skin as you carefully picked up your pile of clothes, carrying them into the walk in closet. You're carefully placing them away when you hear the voices, people chattering just outside your room. You still, listening. 

“Do you think those two are actually married?” someone, a man, speaks first. You freez, not making a sound as they continue their conversation. They can't see you, but they might be able to hear you. 

“You think they are faking?” It's Margaret, the older woman from earlier, her haughty pompous voice full of disdain. She continues. “Then are they the perpetrators?”

The man coughs lightly before he speaks again. “I don't know, but I do know that when my wife and I were newlyweds we simply could not keep our hands off each other if you know what I mean.” You blush, still hiding in the closet. 

“I suppose you're right.” Margaret says, and you hear something hitting the outside wall. She might be leaning against it. “Well it seems like the husband is taking a bath. Maybe they don't get along that well after all.”

They continue their chatting, walking down the hallway and soon Margarets door slams, and you can hear their conversation through the wall. They think you can hear them, you suppose. A plan forming in your head, you carefully finish putting the clothes away. The walls are thin, very thin. Earlier you heard Margaret through the right walls, loudly complaining to the maid for the thousandth time. It would be so easy to fake it, to moan just loud enough that she can hear, and so can your other neighbors. You smile to yourself, trying to calm your racing heart and the embarrassment lighting your face. Just in time, you hear the sound of the bathroom door opening. 

You exit the closet in a rush, and turn on Dazai, advancing on him much like a predator. He smiles at you, with not a clue. 

“I was waiting for you.” You say, purposely pitching your voice a little higher than the purr you would usually use to seduce men. You need the snoopers on the other side of the wall to hear you. Or hear you enough that their suspicions are eased and they leave the room in a hurry. Dazai eyes you, confused. You're upon him now, and you slip your bare hand into his, trying your best to caress the skin, to seduce him with touch. Still gripping his hand, you pull him towards the bed. He stumbles after you, his face still pulled into one of confusion. 

“What are you doing?” Dazai asks you, a strange light in his eyes as you stop before the large bed. His eyes are locked on you, his hair still damp from the bath, droplets dripping down his neck and soaking the fabric of his complimentary bathrobe. The air in the room has changed, it's charged with electricity as he looks at you, his eyes jumping from the low lace collar of your chemise to your exposed thighs, to your lips. You smile, small and seductive. Maybe you're doing too much, it's not like the people on the other side of the wall can see you, but you can't help the faint hope that maybe he wants you, that maybe he loves you. You banish any thoughts like that from your mind and gently push him onto the bed. 

His back hits the fabric with a sound, a soft sound that you know the snoopers on the other side of the wall can't hear. He props himself up, still watching you. You hear a creak near the door, and you sigh. More suspicions are flying it seems. Time to up your act a little. 

“What are you…” Dazai tries, trailing off as you climb onto the bed, crawling forward on all fours, doing your best to employ all the seduction techniques you know. You don't stop until you're on top of his prone form, and then as you sit down, plopping yourself directly on his lap. He hisses, gripping your waist with a question on his lips and arousal in his eyes. 

“Name, what are you doing?” He hisses, his voice urgent but low. You ignore him, slowly grinding down on his lap, and the hardness you find there. His protests die on his lips as you move, back and forth along the length you can feel beneath the fabric. Dazai grips your hips in a slight protest, hands trembling against your skin as you lift your chemise over your head. His eyes run to your boobs, his dick twitching against your bare pussy. You whimper a little as you grind harder, the stimulation ruining your sanity. But you must hold on, this is only an act. 

“Why are you protesting babe?” You say, a little too loudly for the benefit of the watchers. “Are you too tired?” You grind down a little harder, and Dazai bites his lip. Hard. 

You lean down, pretending to kiss his neck as you speak. Your voice is a whisper, a caress, your body still singing with arousal. “They're suspicious. They're watching.” You whisper, moving your hips back and forth, back and forth. It's all the words it takes. It seems Dazai’s brain isn't completely fried by arousal, because understanding flashes through his brain, followed by something you can't quite place. It almost looks like disappointment. You banish the thoughts, for it's impossible and only going to upset you later. 

“You're quite needy today darling.” Dazai says, his voice heavy and deep. You do have to give him credit, it sounds oftly realistic and makes more heat pool in your gut. You bite back a whimper, fingers tracing the line of his bathrobe against his chest.

“I don't want that nasty body to ruin our vacation.” You pout, trying to conceal the obvious arousal in your voice. But you can't conceal your body's reaction, the wetness that spreads on his bathrobe. But, based on the hardness pressed against you, he can't control that either. It feels good to have at least this on him, it proves he's attracted to you in some way. It's a small consolation, but a consolation indeed. He chuckles beneath you, as you grip the ties of his bathrobe, pulling them undone and running your hands over the soft skin of his chest. He’s surprisingly built, with a faint abbs and a v-line running below the only part of his body still covered in soft white bathrobe. You giggle, running your hands along his body.

“You’ve been working out huh, baby.” You smirk. Dazai nods, hands tangled in the sheet as you grind down lightly, pussy leaving streaks behind on the fabric. 

“Wanted to impress you.” He gets out, his voice sounding surprisingly wrecked. His face looks almost open, losing some of the guards he usually has in place around people, and if you didn't know he was making this up, you would totally be fooled. You have to congratulate him. 

You grip his wrist, pulling his hand away from the sheet and bringing to you boob, giving him a permission of sorts to touch you. You want him to, in this case now and normally, and you wish he would take, take you however he wanted. You whimper as the rough pads of his finger come in contact with your sensitive nipple. If you strain your ears, you can faintly hear a commotion next door, what sounds like hushed conversation and the sound of footsteps, but the horny haze that surrounds your brain makes it hard to compute. You just need to control yourself until you hear them leaving, then you can go masturbate in the bath or something. 

Dazai’s hand moves from your boob, once again gripping your hips and moving you, to simulate sex. You just close your eyes and let him, letting your moans leak out of your mouth and into the open air. You hope he thinks they're fake. You can hear faint little pants and grunts from him, and every so often he bites his lip red, his eyes locked on you and you grind. The expression on his face is something you don't think you’ll ever forget. Eyes locked on your face, dark with arousal and something that looks like amazement or disbelief, flushed cheeks and bitten lips, parted slightly with little pants into the already stuffy air of the bedroom. You know you don't look much better, face flushed, lips releasing moans into the air. You don't know if you will be able to hold on much longer. 

And then, the sound you're waiting for. The next door slams loudly. “Oh, I must go downstairs.” Margaret exclaims loudly, and the sound of three sets of footsteps hurrying away is prelude to the end of this charade. You stop moving, still panting and quivering above him.

“They're gone.” You say, voice still full of arousal. Dazai staring at you. All this time, his eyes have never left you, your body, your eyes, your mouth. Their such a deep brown, the pupils dilated to almost black. There's a light in them, a light of disappointment, a light of desire. You don't know what to do from here.

Neither of you move, just frozen on the bed, you on top of him. It feels as if a spell might be broken, as if you are Cinderella and the moment you make a move to get up, the spell will break and the status quo will be back. The normal everyday you, and the Dazai that doesn't love you. You take a deep, deep breath, and prepare to move. 

Dazai’s hands anchor you in place, his eyes narrowing slightly as you try to move off him. You frown. He grips your thighs, big hands anchoring you in place. 

“Dazai…” You say, the word still full of arousal but tinged in confusion. He seems to be making a decision, weighing the pros and cons and as you sense his hands loosening around your waist you fall backwards. You spread your legs, fingers playing with your boobs and decide to take a leap of faith. 

“Dazai.” You start, your voice certain. “I want you too fuck me.”

The effect is immediate. The emotions at war in Dazai’s dark eyes vanish, and suddenly he's upon you, gripping your waist and pulling you toward him, toward his dick. The bathrobe falls off, landing without a sound on the blanket and all you see is skin, pale skin, and dark eyes. They dont leave you as he lines up his hard dick inside you, pushing the head past your walls. The effect is immediate, you arch off the bed with a moan. Dazai smirks.

“You look so pretty like this.” He says, hands still slowly pulling you down on his cock. “You feel what you’ve done to me baby?” 

His voice is rough as he slowly pushes in, hands gripping you so tight you're sure they’ll bruise. You whimper, hands gripping into the fabric beneath you as he bottoms out and starts to move. Your back arches off the bed with a moan, and as he sets a pace, fast and rough and oh so delicious, you grip his shoulders. 

“Oh god Osamu.” You practically shriek the words, nails scratching his back. “Oh god i love you.” 

You almost regret the words, but as he sucks possessive little marks into your neck, he murmurs the words into your skin. 

“I love you too.” Dazai says, the words to tender and full of sincerity you nearly break. And then, he hits that spot inside you and you come with a scream. 

☂☂☂

The atmosphere when you and Dazai enter the dining room the next morning, Dazai glowing and you limping and covered in hickeys, is one of many different emotions.

The maids are giggling, and even the butlers and some of the people at the large table are muffling laughter behind hands and napkins. Margaret sticks her nose in the air, as haughty as before.

And even though you have your work cut out for you, dealing with all these people and finding the killer, you find you are starting to anticipate the prospect. Dazai’s hand is still wrapped around your waist, supporting you as you walk around the table and you know he’ll be able to support you like this for a long time. It feels nice. 

“What are you thinking about?” Dazai says, pressing a kiss to your cheek. You giggle. 

“Oh nothing.” you say, taking a seat beside him. “Nothing at all.”

...

End Notes: been dealing with a nasty headache lately. Annoying as fuck. Btw i also did a little bit of research on the clothes but i am by NO means a fashion history expert. I just have google and sometimes that's wrong. Tried my best though.

on a totally unrelated note…Junko posing is coming back on tik tok and im terrified.

its lowkey fun though…