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hunnylagoon · 6 months

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Birthday Girl

A/N This is my first tumblr fic. I’m a retired Wattpad warrior, I only wrote this bc the Ellie tag is over diluted by smut, we need some angst and fluff to balance it out. My credentials are that I used to write Game of Thrones fanfic and I was blocked by Noah Beck on Twitter. Apologies in advance for any spelling errors or confusing sentences, bc I was high off my ass when I wrote this.

Summary

Jackson’s resident Baker works herself tirelessly to take care of everyone on their birthday and ensure they get something nice to brighten their special day but who is there to take care of her?

Birthdays are like brilliant gems in the kaleidoscope of time; they are the times when life's symphony crescendos into a celebration of its children. As the sun circles the earth once a year, we are given a day to celebrate our own journey, a day that whispers stories of victories, laughter, and the sweet notes of resiliency. You had always loved birthdays, who didn't? The look of joy on someone's face when they open a gift you spent weeks looking for, the uncontrollable smile and pure serotonin that took over even the grumpiest of people. Everyone had a special day designated to them, of course, it was a cause to celebrate.

You worked in the town bakery with very few other people, from five am to twelve pm on Monday to Friday every single week you were hustling around in a humid bakery, hell, you ran it like the navy. Every morning, walking into the bakery is like stepping into a fragrant paradise where time seems to slow down to the sound of ovens buzzing to life. The first two hours were just for you before you let anyone in, The comforting routine of donning a flour-dusted apron and tying back unruly hair precedes the artistry of crafting pastries and breads. The almost therapeutic rhythm of kneading, rolling, and shaping becomes second nature: the soft crack of eggs, the calculated pour of sugar, and the clouds of flour hovering in midair.

There wasn't much creative freedom while working in the Jackson bakery, it really just consisted of making dozens of bread loaves daily and then carting them over to the 'Barbecue Place' Which was once a restaurant though it had been refashioned into Jackson's mess hall. However, you were able to dabble in some fun and were able to make cupcakes daily and a large batch of miscellaneous pastries every Friday. The cupcakes were very dear to you, you had to beg Maria when you were thirteen to approve the idea and eventually, you were green-lit.

As you step into the bakery you are greeted by the creek of wooden planks which are a testament to decades of busy activity; the dance of innumerable bakers has worn away at their shiny surfaces. The aroma of baked goods still hovers in the air from the previous day and all the days that came before, taking you to a more peaceful time. Sunlight streams through old lace curtains, illuminating worn, mismatched tables and chairs that have served eager clients for centuries though they no longer serve guests in the bakery. Deeply patinated wooden shelves support a variety of ceramic jars, each containing a treasure trove of hidden ingredients. Fading photos and yellowed newspaper clippings decorate the walls, telling the story of the bakery's illustrious past. There are copper pots and pans strung like time capsules on strong hooks, and an old-fashioned cash register sits on the end of the counter past the empty glass displays, it no longer serves a purpose but you have fought bravely to keep it around as it makes you think of what life had been like before the world fell apart.

You look at a beat-up calendar on the walls, sitting in the place of an old picture frame that had been knocked down and shattered by none other than yourself when you were fourteen and had the bright idea of having you and your friend toss a bag of flour at each other to see who was strong enough to last longer in the odd game of catch. Surely, Ellie threw the five-pound bag a little too hard, you ducked to save yourself but it smashed into the framed photo of the family who ran the bakery before the apocalypse. It not only was smashed into little fragments but the bag of flour exploded and covered the dining room of the bakery as well as yourself in white powder, it looked like it had snowed inside. The calendar you were checking held the birthday of every person in Jackson, it was messy and hard to read as you usually had to cram several birthdays into a single day which was only a small square, it was hardly legible, there was almost no one else who could read it. Every day when you walked into the bakery, the first thing you did was check the calendar to find out whose birthday it was, then you began your bread dough or carried on with the sourdough started the day before, while the dough rose, you made cake batter, adjusting the recipe according to how many you had to make. After finishing work for the day or sometimes when you were midway through it, you would give each person a cupcake to celebrate their special day.

Even if no one else remembered their birthday, you were always there to make it a little bit better.

Today there were two birthdays on the calendar, Sean Casey, a man who was turning sixty. The second birthday marked down in the little square was yours.

That's what made that day so special, you were ecstatic to see what your friends had planned for you later. Last year Ellie promised that she would go above and beyond for your next birthday and you were going to hold her to that. There was already a nice start to your morning by having your dad wake you up with breakfast in bed which you found truly impressive as he usually slept in till at least ten, on top of that he had scavenged a stand mixer for the home. You grabbed your apron off of the hook putting it over your neck and tying it tight around your waist. Everyone had a couple of designated aprons to rotate through throughout the week, yours consisted of two plain white ones, a red gingham pattern, one of forest green, and another made of a fabric covered in hyacinth flowers, their colours diluted like paint. Today you wore the apron your father gave you last year on your birthday, it was your favourite colour and the neckline was embroidered to say '(y/n)s kitchen'. You could tell your dad did the embroidery himself, the stitches were loose and uneven in some areas while being extremely tight in others, that's why you loved it so much, it was the thought and care behind it.

With a gentle hand, you pulled each of your necessary ingredients along with equipment out to begin your day. You preheat the ovens and in the quiet pre-dawn hours, the bakery comes alive with the hushed sounds of industrial mixers. The heady scent of freshly milled flour dances in the air as you measure the precise alchemy of ingredients, your hands moving with practiced grace. Kneading the dough becomes repetitive, muscles working in harmony to transform a mound of humble ingredients into a soft elastic texture. As the dough rests and rises, the anticipation builds—the promise of crusty loaves and soft, pillowy interiors. You slipped the pans of dough into the industrial ovens, the heat attacking you the second you opened the door; making sure to place the pumpernickel, rye, sourdough, brioche and wheat loaves all sorted on different racks in the respective ovens.

By the time you put the loaves in ovens it had been two hours from when you began, even with preparation the day before and dough starters, it was a process. You quickly washed your hands before unlocking the door for Juno as well as anyone who wanted to come in to visit.

The clock read '7:09', because of the passthrough you were still able to look outside via the glass storefront, you could see people walking along the streets heading to whatever job they worked to contribute to the community, no one got paid, it was a commune after all, you couldn't imagine a world where everyone was so dependent on money and so obsessed with over-consumption. Part of you was waiting for one of those people to come in and wish you a happy birthday, but you shook the thoughts from your head.

You began to make the small portion for two of cupcake batter, remembering distinctly how four years ago you sat next to Sean at the Fourth of July party and he went on and on about how much he hated vanilla, it seemed like one of those crazy old man rants but you found delight in it. Never had you seen a man so passionate about cake flavouring. He said vanilla was nothing special, flavourless; you had come to learn that he was a chocolate man, every holiday event filling his pot belly with chocolate, when you had brought assorted sweets for a Christmas party he dove straight for the brownies. So it was easy for you to make up your mind on what flavour of cupcake to make.

After years of this cupcake tradition you had memorized each ratio to make, a double serving of chocolate batter consisting of 1/4 cup of flour, 2 1/2 tablespoons of white sugar, 1 tablespoon of unsweetened cocoa powder, 1/4 tablespoon of baking soda, a dash of salt, 2 tablespoons milk, two tablespoons canola oil, 1/4 tablespoon vanilla extract. You treated baking like it was a science and recipes were your formulas.

As for the frosting, you had a stockpile of plain buttercream that you took small servings from and flavoured according to said person's preference. All you had to do was whip it up and add some cocoa powder to make it fluffy and creamy again.

The bell above the doorway rang, signalling the arrival of someone, you looked up to see Maria. "Hey, there," You smiled, turning off the stand mixer so you could hear her.

"Hi, (y/n)," She greeted and you quickly wiped whatever was on your hands onto your apron before coming around to the service counter to speak with her. "I have something to ask of you."

"Yes?"

"I know you already do your little cupcake thing but we are throwing a surprise party tonight for Sean and I was hoping you could make a cake for him?"

You nod with a smile "Anything for the town chief."

"Great, then how about a simple vanilla cake?"

"Sean doesn't like vanilla," You answered quickly.

"Okay, well I trust you with it, his party starts at eight tonight in the town square and he's turning sixty so it's a big one, I'll see you there around then?"

"Definitely," You grinned at Maria, waiting for her to wish you a happy birthday and reveal that she was only pretending to forget but she didn't. She thanked you and walked out, leaving you in a flour-covered apron with a tinge of hurt in your heart. It wasn't like you weren't close with Maria, you had Thanksgiving at her house every year.

Nonetheless, it was only a blip in your soon-to-be perfect day. Just as you had frosted the two cupcakes, putting chocolate chips on Sean's and breaking half of a double fudge cookie and sticking it into the thick icing. Rainbow sprinkles cascade like confetti, adding a whimsical touch to the miniature confection. The bell rang again calling for your attention, this time you didn't leave the kitchen instead just moved to look at whoever it was by the passthrough.

"Hey, kiddo!" Tommy greeted, clad in a red flannel tucked into blue jeans. He walked into the bakery as comfortably as he would his home.

"Howdy, Tommy," You said, moving out of his sight for a quick moment to put the two cupcakes in the fridge to prevent the buttercream from prematurely melting.

"So, it's Sean's birthday today and I was wondering if you could bake a cake for his party-

"Maria was already in," You answered "Don't worry, I'm on it."

He smiled "Of course, you're always so on top of it," He leaned over the counter slightly, trying to get a look inside the kitchen via the passthrough "Say, have you got anything back there for me?" You opened the box of double fudge cookies you made the day before and scooted around the passthrough to hand him one, boots clattering on the ground. Tommy loved to visit the bakery as you always had a sweet treat for him and he would never get sick of the aromatic embrace of fresh bread. "Thanks, kiddo, I'll see you around."

This was the moment you were almost convinced that they were planning a surprise party for you, sure Maria could forget about your birthday, she was a busy lady but there was no way Tommy would. He was good buddies with your dad and was over at your place for beers a minimum of once a week. You always baked for him when he came over and he constantly joked about you trying to fatten him up.

The bell sounded again though you didn't bother to look up, you knew who it was by the time of the clock, Juno was starting her shift. As usual, she tied her mousy brown hair into a sleek ponytail then grabbed her apron and stuck a baseball cap on over her head so there was no chance of her hair coming loose. "Good morning," She walked into the kitchen, heading over to the sink to wash her hands.

"Mornin'," You answer.

She looks you up and down with a slight smile "You're wearing your favourite apron, must be a special day."

“Sure doesn't feel like it."

♡

Your birthday wasn’t panning out great but you didn't want to lose hope.

You had walked over to the greenhouses after your shift to find Sean, he loved the cupcake, he even hugged you which was nice albeit a little odd. You walked through town a bit after you had stopped and talked to everyone on the street for not a single one to say the words you've been pleading to hear all day. Taking it as defeat, you grabbed a sandwich for lunch from the mess hall and began the desolate walk home.

Nestled at the end of a peaceful, tree-lined street, the charming but battered house had a certain charm that cut through its worn yellow exterior. Tentacles of ivy wrapped about the crumbling outside walls, their green tones infusing the dilapidated building with a hint of the natural world's tenacity. The worn-out yet friendly doormat and weathered rocking chair on the porch told of years spent taking in the changing of the seasons. The wooden frames of the windows, adorned with faded drapes that seen innumerable sunsets, spoke tales of laughter and time passed.

The house's coziness unfolded inside like a time capsule, with worn-out rugs covering creaky floorboards and a fireplace in the living room that was adorned with vintage tiles that were mismatched and provided warmth in more ways than one. The rooms had a lived-in comfort despite the peeling wallpaper and chipped paint, and each mismatched piece of furniture seemed to tell a story of its own. Despite being tatty and ragged around the edges, the house exuded a calmness that invited guests to enjoy the beauty concealed in the flaws of a place that had aged gracefully and with character like most homes in Jackson. The living room was always your favourite, there was a spruce bookshelf pushed behind the gray, L-shaped couch, and the rug was once a maroon colour though it's clear that it's been well-loved over the years. Pillows and throw blankets were carelessly scattered over the couch from when you and your dad had watched '21 Jumpstreet' the night before, he kept saying it was a shame the outbreak happened before they got to make a second one, though many of the jokes didn't land with you, you loved to see your dad laugh so hard he snorted. The room was illuminated by a warm glow from the fairy lights overhead that your dad scavenged years prior, a small stack of books piled up on the coffee table which had been hand-crafted by Joel.

You popped 'Mean Girls' into the DVD player, just to have some background noise and went to the kitchen and started on Sean's cake. As much as you loved the bakery, you wanted to be somewhere a little more close to comfort.

As you measured each ingredient with care, you couldn't shake the bittersweet feeling that lingered in the air. Sifting the ingredients into the bowl, you had wished your father was home from patrol duty, all you really wanted was a hug but instead, you slaved away at a black forest complete with layers of moist sponge, decadent frosting, and a profusion of vibrant decorations.

As you delicately frosted the cake, your mind flitted between thoughts of the celebration and the poignant fact that everyone seemed to have overlooked your own special day. The kitchen, usually a sanctuary for you to escape to, now harboured the weight of unspoken emotions. Your heart, though excited for Sean to get a nice surprise on his Birthday, held an unnoticed longing for acknowledgment.

The aroma of the baking cake filled the kitchen, mingling with the scent of disappointment that you couldn't quite shake.

As the cake took shape, you couldn't help but think back to the calendar at the bakery, where the date circled in red seemed to mock you. Your own birthday, usually a day filled with surprises and the warmth of laughter, had slipped through the cracks of everyone's awareness. Though the night was still young and Ellie had said that she was planning something incredible.

Finally, nine was about to roll around, you changed into some clean clothes that hadn't yet carried the memories of your disappointing day, just a white top and some jeans. The sun had set, and your dad wouldn't be home for a good while so you walked over to the town square alone.

There was a table full of food and a long banner that read 'Happy Birthday Sean!' strung between two street lamps. There were twinkling fairy lights illuminating what would have otherwise been a dark night.

"There she is!" Tommy smiled, doing that awkward little dad jog over you. "Wow, that cake looks incredible, mind if I take it off your hands?"

"Go ahead," You held out the cakeboard. Tommy gingerly took it away from your grasp, his forearm underneath to support and his other hand held the side of the board for balance.

"I owe ya' kiddo," He winked before taking the cake away to show a group of adults.

You stood around awkwardly for a moment, unsure of what to do with yourself. You turned your attention to the moon, wanting to believe that it shined so very bright just for you, because the moon, unlike everyone else recalled how important this day was to you-

"SURPRISE!" Everyone erupted in cheers as Sean walked up to his party, his daughter had her arm linked with his. He had the biggest smile on his face it almost made you forgive everyone for forgetting because at least Sean got something thoughtful.

"Lord, I was thinking everyone forgot my birthday!" Sean laughed, pulling Tommy in for a hug.

"(y/n)!" Dina yelled, you turned your head to follow her voice. She was sitting at a long picnic table beneath an awning with some friends "Over here," She motioned for you to sit down and you obliged, taking a spot between Ellie and Laila. "What have you been up to? I feel like I haven't seen you all day."

"That's because you haven't," You said with an awkward smile. "I've just been baking, like always."

"You're always working so hard, I swear you live in that bakery and when you aren't in there your busy busting your ass around town to make sure everyone gets something on their birthday," Dina sat across from you and put a hand onto yours "You look out for everyone, but who's looking out for you?"

"My dad?" You glance at Ellie who isn't tuned into the conversation in the slightest, she has her arms crossed in front of her on the table and her head resting on them.

"Aw, that's sweet-" Kayla moves to look at you but in doing so, she spills a glass of juice onto you. "I'm so sorry," She slaps one hand over her mouth, her eyebrows furrowing. Kayla stood up from the table, her ginger curls rustling with the breeze "I'll get a cloth or something-

"Don't worry about it," I wave her off "It's just clothes, I'll grab some napkins." You push yourself away from the table, walking over to the table adorned with food, you see a small stack of Christmas themed napkins (it must've been hard for them to come by regular ones) and grab a handful, bunching them up in your hand in an attempt to soak up some of the juice that had already indefinitely stained your clothes.

You feel some eyes on you from the other side of the table, to look up and see Joel, he doesn't say anything though his lips are pressed together tight.

"You're back," You say, a spark of happiness rekindling inside of you "So my dad's back from patrol too?"

Joel nods "Too tuckered to come out, said he was just heading home," He uses tongs to put a couple cuts of chicken onto his plate "Oh and happy birthday, you've probably heard that a whole bunch already, lord, it's all your old man would talk about on our last couple of patrols."

"What did you say?" You look at him with furrowed eyebrows, unsure if he said what you really thought.

"I said happy birthday, shame you've stained your clothes on your birthday," He absentmindedly added some mashed potatoes onto his plate. The words hung in the air, a moment that transcended the boundaries of their usual exchanges. You, momentarily taken aback, met Joel's gaze. It was a simple, earnest wish, uttered with the spontaneity of someone who had remembered a small yet significant detail in the whirlwind of festivity.

"Thank you, Joel," You replied, your voice carrying a mix of surprise and gratitude. In that fleeting instant, the isolation that had surrounded her seemed to dissipate. A connection, however tenuous, had been forged in the acknowledgment of her existence amidst the collective celebration.

"No problem, kid, I'll see you around," He left with his plate leaving you to stand alone at the table. You continued to dab at the juice on your white top, and though you knew it wouldn't come out you proceeded to rub it; the best exchange of your day, no more than eight sentences suddenly turned from joy to frustration. The only two people who remembered your birthday were your dad and a fiftey-eight-year-old man who practically raised the girl you had spent years crushing on, not the girl herself, but her father figure. However, you thought, maybe if Joel remembered, Ellie had aswell and she actually did have something planned.

Amidst the lively chatter and laughter that reverberated through the night, you stood in the midst of flickering candles and colourful decorations, your eyes cast down to the ground. The atmosphere of celebration enveloped her, but a palpable sense of solitude hung in the air like a heavy mist settling upon your shoulders. It was a birthday party, yes, but not your own. Forgotten and overlooked, your heart echoed with a quiet ache, the irony of your situation casting a shadow over the festive scene.

The square was adorned with streamers and balloons, a tapestry of colours that seemed to dance in rhythm with the joyful voices around her. The community gathered, their faces lit by the warm glow of the fairy lights and street lamps, each one caught up in the merriment of the moment. Yet, for you, the celebration felt like a distant spectacle, a scene from which you were detached.

It was your birthday too—a fact that no one cared enough to recall. As Darla (Sean's daughter) calls guests toward a decadent cake adorned with candles, which you had made, you couldn't escape the bitter irony of the situation. You watched as the room erupted into a chorus of "Happy Birthday," the song meant for another soul, another moment of joy. You joined in, lips forming the familiar words, your voice harmonizing with the collective melody. But within the depths of your being, the celebration rang hollow, a stark contrast to the cheer that echoed around you.

Throughout the evening, you navigated the party with a forced smile, concealing the invisible weight of your emotions. Conversations buzzed like bees in your ears, no- it grated like a fork in a blender, but you found yourself on the outskirts—a silent observer amidst the numerous connections. The laughter that erupted like fireworks, the clinking of glasses, the embraces of old friends—it all seemed distant, an echo from another realm where she once belonged.

The party unfolded as a series of snapshots: a group photo with smiling faces, a toast to Sean, and the opening of gifts that weren't meant for you. Each moment, though vibrant and filled with the warmth of shared camaraderie, magnified the silence that enveloped your own celebration, forgotten and left to dissolve into the shadows.

As the night carried out, seeming like the celebration would never cease, you cut yourself a slice of cake, grabbing one of the half-melted candles that Sean had already blown out, they sat in a frosting-covered pile next to the cake. You took your favourite colour out of the rainbow assortment of candles and stuck it into the piece of black forest cake.

With your cake you sat back down by Ellie at the picnic table where she still returned to after conversing, everyone else had gotten up to dance. You reached for the lighter in your pocket and struck it to ignite, sparks flickered around the end of it, you struck it again and a flame arose, you carefully brought it to the wick of the partially melted candle.

The flickering flame cast a subtle glow as you made a silent wish for understanding, for the beauty found in selflessness, and for the recognition that sometimes the most meaningful celebrations are the ones we craft for others, even in the quiet echoes of our own unacknowledged birthdays. Ellie turned to look at you as the candle's flame danced in the darkness, before you could blow out the candle to solidify your wish a little girl climbed up onto the bench and blew it out, you looked at her and all she did was smile up at you, the gap in her teeth prominent, her deep chocolate hair braided so intricately you had to believe that it must've taken her mother hours.

As much as you wanted to deck that little girl in the face for ruining your moment, you didn't because it would be wildly inappropriate. "Do you want this?" You sighed, holding out the plate to the girl, she smiled and nodded enthusiastically, taking the cake and scattering away "Hey, Ellie," You pushed back tears in your eyes, forcing a smile on your face "Got any plans later?"

“Yeah," She said, short

"Oh, what are they?"

"Not to sound like a cunt but I'm not really in the mood to talk, I had a shit patrol and all I want to do is go home, smoke a joint, watch a movie, maybe read a comic, and pass out on my couch, the only reason I'm here is that Dina dragged me out and Joel said I need to be more involved in the community."

Your smile dropped, you couldn't hold it in anymore, realizing that this wasn't the elaborate setup of a surprise party but Ellie genuinely forgot it was your birthday. "Are you serious?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"Do you know what day it is?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you remember what's happening today?"

"It's Sean's birthday," She gestured to the party around her.

"You're fucking serious," Any amusement that had been in your tone was gone, replaced by a subtle anger boiling up inside of you

"Are you going to cry?" Ellie gave you a weird look "What are you so mad about?"

"I can't believe you," You laugh bitterly "Actually I can, this is so like you, I need to stop building it up in my head that you're going to surprise me with something great. But hey, at least you never fail to let me down."

"Jesus," She scoffed "There's always something going on with you, can you go one day without finding some irrational reason to be upset?"

"Irrational?"

"Yeah, irrational," She reiterated "You always come to me when something sets you off in the slightest then your problem becomes everyone else's. You're so fucking draining and I'm sick of it."

"Fuck you, I hope your comic catches fire from your joint and you burn your place down." You stand up from the bench, wiping tears away from your eyes. Your boots clattered against the cobblestone. You stormed past the dancers, some stopping to look at one another with concern. Dina leaves Jesse to ask Ellie what happened.

The walk home might've been the loneliest you had felt in your life, the harsh wind of the night bit at your nose. The feeling of the sticky juice soaking through your clothing was borderline unbearable, were just about ready to scream. There wasn't a single person out and about as everyone was either at the party or cozied up in their own homes.

Arriving at your doorstep, you fumbled with the handle, the metallic clink resonating in the quietude that enveloped the house. The door swung open, revealing the dimly lit foyer, still no surprise. Why do you still think there is going to be a party? No one is coming.

You wandered into the living room, the TV was lit with the options screen for 'Mean Girls' that you had put on hours earlier.

Sinking into the worn-out couch, You let the weight of the day wash over you. A single tear welled in your eye, and as it escaped, a floodgate of unshed sorrow burst open. The first teardrop traced a silent path down your cheek, leaving a glistening trail of heartache in its wake.

The tears you cried weren't silent and dainty but violent sobs that burned your throat each time you cried out. As you wept, it felt like someone had stabbed your gut with a thousand needles, you cried and cried, to no one in particular, maybe the moon glistening outside the window though the moon seemed to absorb your tears, offering no solace in return.

The soft tick of the clock on the wall echoed in the quiet room, marking the strike of midnight, your birthday had ended. There was no secret party or a prank where everyone was only playing an act, only the emptiness of the house echoed the howls soaked in your tears.

The oak staircase creaked, and your dad turned the corner, peering into the living room. "What's wrong, honey,?" He shook the sleep from his mind, focusing on what was important, he sat next to you on the sofa. "I thought you said you were going to be out all night with your friends?"

You shook your head, breathing shaky breaths alone, hardly able to get a word out "They forgot," You felt the harsh sting of desolation hit you all over again "Everyone forgot," You grabbed his grey t-shirt burying your face into his chest. He wrapped his arms around you, cradling you gently like you were a child who had just scraped her knee not someone who had just turned nineteen, "Except for Joel, so be nice to him, please."

"I'm sorry, baby, it was probably just a mix-up," He rubbed one hand on your back to comfort you. "I should've been there with you, I'm so sorry."

You couldn't get the words out of your mouth, all you could manage was to shake in your father's arms with sobs until you cried yourself to sleep.

♡

"Happy birthday, Jasmine!" You smile brightly, presenting a lemon-raspberry cupcake to the woman. She was serving breakfast in the mess hall, the early morning light streaming through the many windows, blinding those trying to enjoy their meals.

"Aw, thank you, love" She took the cupcake "That's real sweet," She wore a hairnet, despite having short cropped hair. "I just realized I don't even know when your birthday is."

"It was yesterday, actually."

"Aww, how was it?" Jasmine smiled, her white teeth contrasting with her dark skin.

"It was nice, it was quiet too, I just spent it by myself."

A frown replaced Jasmine's smile and she lowered her tone "Did your friends drop the ball?"

You wave off her question "Oh no, loads of people remembered, I just wanted some time to myself, it was nice."

You could tell Jasmine didn't wholeheartedly believe you, she was at Sean's party last night and saw you rush out with tears building in your eyes "If you say so," She shrugged, taking a bite of her cupcake "This is really good."

"Thanks," A small smile plays on your lips.

"God bless you, sweetheart, you deserve the best." She said, every bit of truth behind her words. She took another bite of the cupcake, savouring the sweet and sour taste "And I mean that."

You were too caught up in conversation to notice Jesse ahead of you in the service line right away, he grabbed a glass and filled it with water from the dispenser, trying to play cool and not have your attention drawn to him. With a shaky hand, he put the glass on his tray and hurried over to the table where Ellie was eating with Dina. "Guys, something not that great just happened."

Ellie furrowed her eyebrows looking from Dina to Jesse "What?" She asked through a mouthful of scrambled eggs, she swallowed them down and spoke back up "Please tell us what terrible thing has happened in the time it took you to walk to the service line, get your food and come back?" Sarcasm dripped from her voice.

"We forgot (y/n)'s birthday," He said quickly, Ellie and Dina looked at each other with wide eyes, thinking back to the night before and the way they had both behaved. Dina was extremely ignorant and Ellie got into an argument with you, though Jesse didn't speak to you at all.

"We're awful friends," Dina says quietly, scraping her mind for any way they could salvage the situation and play it off like they hadn't forgotten. "We could change all of the calendars in town and make it seem like her birthday is actually today."

"Be serious, Dina," Jesse said, though he was considering her idea. "I think the only way we can fix this is by making it up to her."

"How would we do that? We can't make it up to her, she remembers every single person's birthday in this town and gives them a cupcake, even people she doesn't like, do you remember how she planned all of our birthday parties for the last four years and has never let us down?" Dina and Jesse nodded "And how we always scramble something together last minute? Like last year, we only remembered two days before and we threw her a subpar movie night, we watched Star Wars and she doesn't even like Star Wars."

Dina sucked air through her teeth "Yeah, not our best moment."

"You think?" Jesse asked, sarcastically. "And Ellie didn't make it any better by yelling at her yesterday!"

"You yelled at her? You told me you didn't yell at her," Dina whipped her head to look at Ellie, the smallest glimpse of judgment in her eyes. "Shh, she's coming!"

You were making your way to the exit lugging the cart that had held loaves of bread on it before you dropped them off to the kitchen, still in your flour-covered apron, hair pinned up messy, baby hairs flying away. Clad in jeans, a green T-shirt and beaten-up boots, clacking against the hardwood floor, you still looked beautiful to Ellie with red eyes and a puffy face from crying all night. "Watch this," Jesse murmured to the group before turning around and flagging you down. "Hey (y/n)!" He smiled brightly, his words catching your attention "Did you enjoy your birthday, yesterday?"

"Jesse, I know you heard me talking to Jasmine." You said and Ellie couldn't bear the disappointed look on your face. At that moment, the guilt hit her all at once. You had been the first kid her age that she warmed up to when she arrived in Jackson, trying your best to include her in everything. You invited her to hang out with your friends even though she didn't particularly get along with them, she went anyway because she just wanted to see you. On her birthday the previous year, you had scoped out an old comic store hours away just to bring her there for one day.

Jesse's smile fell and you had walked out the door before he had the chance to push a lie through his teeth. Last night's conversation echoed through Ellie's head over and over again, she cringed at the memory, god, why did she even say that?

Dina reached over the table and gave Ellie a harsh smack on the arm "Why did you even say that?!"

"Ow," She flinched, rubbing the spot that had been assaulted by Dina "What are you talking about?"

Dina looked at Ellie like she was just about ready to scream "What you said to her last night, what was going through your head?"

"Not much, apparently," Jesse answered for her, earning a death glare from the Auburn girl.

"I'll just apologize and it'll be water under the bridge," Ellie said, leaning back.

"That's not going to work," Dina replied quickly.

It, in fact, did not work. Ellie had shown up at the bakery where you promptly ignored her. "(y/n), I'm really sorry I forgot your birthday and said those things to you." Nothing Ellie said could get you to even look at her.

She had later stopped by your house, it was your dad who answered the door and Ellie sheepishly asked if you were home. He called for you to come down, the moment you saw Ellie, you shut the door in her face. There was no way she could defend herself, she couldn't say that she said those things because she had a bad day (even though she did), and that would just make her seem pathetic. She really wanted to say that she was scared of how much she liked you, she didn't want to ruin a good thing, you both had spent years playing the role of each other's best friend until Ellie started to distance herself from you and you ended up enwrapping yourself with work to distract yourself from the fact that she was drifting away.

Ellie didn't know what to do, if she didn't act fast, it would be too late and she was going to lose you.

♡

One week later

The sun was just beginning to set as you were already preparing to settle into bed and read a book, just about to change out of your floor-length sundress and into one of your dad's old shirts. However, your plans were interrupted when you heard your dad screaming downstairs, it was blood-curdling. You dropped everything, pulling your bedroom door open and rushing down the stairs, tripping on a step and stumbling before quickly regaining balance and moving with haste "Dad?" You called out, worry running through your head.

"SURPRISE!" People practically screeched, the volume so loud that you jolted back in fear. The chatter only grew as you looked around you and realized what was happening, this was your belated birthday party.

You were pulled in suddenly for a hug, squeezing you so tight you thought your eyes would pop out of your skull was Tommy "I'm so sorry, kiddo, I was being a real shithead on your birthday."

"It's okay," You choked out, nearly gasping for air. Much to your relief, he released you and you took a deep breath.

"Happy belated birthday!" Dina sang, placing a fat box in your arms. Many people followed after her, piling gifts on top of the initial one, you were quickly losing balance, so you stumbled into the living room and put the gifts onto the coffee table. There was so much life in the living room it was almost hard to believe that just a week before you had been crying alone, bathed in moonlight.

There were streamers strung throughout your house and odd dangly decorations that hung from the ceiling. Some balloons were taped to the walls while others bounced around the ground.

The lively hum of conversation, the clinking of glasses, and the melodic strains of birthday wishes filled the room as the party pulsated with energy. Colourful decorations adorned the walls, and the air was charged with the festive spirit.

You had the biggest smile on your face while everyone joked and jeered. Shoving their gifts into your face, trying to get you to open them first. It had made you forget about how awful your real birthday was, though you did try to dodge awkward apologies of people fumbling over their own words to make up excuses as to why they missed your real birthday.

"Happy birthday to you-" A voice began singing, and soon enough the entire crowd joined in, harmonizing into an off-key rendition of the birthday song. They made way for the person carrying the cake which had been none other than Ellie herself. The song ended off and Ellie placed the cake in front of you on the coffee table. "Make a wish."

You blew out all of the candles, and no punchable little girl around to steal your thunder, the room erupted into applause. The celebration continued with the living room becoming a dance floor, laughter echoing through the corridors, and conversations flowing freely. The cake itself reminded you of the embroidery your dad had done on your apron, it was sloppy and imperfect but you could tell it was made with love, the icing had been put on prematurely and had partially melted off the cake. It read 'Happy birthday' with 'Sorry for being a dick' written smaller beneath the first bit of text.

"Thank you, Ellie," You smiled softly up at her.

No one else was paying attention to you anymore, aside from those who wanted a slice of cake. Ellie nervously fumbled around with her hands "Do you want to dance?"

Ellie invited you to dance as the opening notes of the song floated through the air and she held out her hand. With a gentle smile, you accepted and you moved into the middle of the living room to form a makeshift dance floor. The soft aroma of fresh flowers blended with the scent of vanilla candles created an ambiance that enhanced the moment's sensory magic.

To the gentle beat of the song, your bodies moved in unison. Your hand settled comfortably on Ellie's shoulder, and her hand wrapped around your waist. Your bond transcended the material in the living room dance, an unspoken language of mutual feelings and unknown depths.

You both danced, recklessly, so much so that you were nearly a hazard for the swaying couples drifting around you, moving faster and not hurriedly as the tempo picked up. With each step, the living room's walls became silent witnesses to a romance that was developing on the plush carpet under their feet. The muted rustle of your clothing and the melodic notes of the music were all that could be heard to your ears.

The two of you took great pleasure in the dance's exuberance, laughing at the imperfect nature of it. In the noise of the living room, your eyes, locked in a dance of their own, spoke volumes. You were embraced by the dim lighting's vulnerability, which freed you from the burdens of the outside world to fully enjoy the moment.

Ellie guided you in a soft spin as the song went on, your moves were not fluid and elegant but Ellie could've sworn that looking into your eyes made it feel like there was liquid sunlight coursing through your veins

You and Ellie drew closer in the song's last moments, your bodies pressed together in an embrace that went beyond the material. As the last notes of the music faded, they held each other for an extra moment, relishing the warmth that they shared and the unspoken promises that danced between them. You wished that you could've stayed in Ellie's strong embrace for centuries.

You let go of Ellie, taking a step back with a smile, "Why didn't you tell me you were such a good dancer?" You tease, almost out of breath.

"I didn't know I was," She grinned, taking the sight of you in. Your cheeks were flushed and your hair had become messy, she thought you to be beautiful all the same, if not more. Her eyes raked over your body, your floor-length sundress and mismatched socks "And here I was thinking it was too late for sundresses."

"It's never too late, Ellie."

#ellie williams #ellie tlou #ellie x reader #ellie williams x reader #the last of us #slow burn #the last of us ellie #ellie williams x you #ellie williams x female reader #ellie williams fluff #Ellie Williams X reader angst #angst #fluff #ellie x fem reader #mean!ellie #tlou #super slow burn

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all-purpose-dish-soap · 16 days

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27 / 1.7k / spreading rumors about dating Gaz, part 2

⬇ nsfw; mention of revenge porn

...

Gaz doesn't negotiate. He doesn't back down. When the situation calls for it, he knows when it's time to escalate.

That's why he fucks you on your dining room table instead of a public bathroom. Partly because he's not a slag. The idea of you possibly agreeing to do it--of giving him the same ammunition you gave your ex to humiliate you--leaves a sour taste in his mouth. Even if you started rumors and risked his reputation.

A growl rises in his throat at the thought of your ex having the gall to send him that video of you. Christ. What on Earth did you see in him?

Partly, though, he wants to fuck you in your own house so that when he next sees your prat of an ex-boyfriend, he can properly rub it in that fucker's face that you invited him in on the first date.

Or maybe he'll take a picture of your panties in his teeth. He hasn't decided yet.

You're strung out with pleasure, your bare back against the table. You’re caught between wondering why he wanted to fuck you after all and letting every last reservation about it vanish into nothing. You’ve always wanted this. You never thought it would happen.

"Sergeant," you gasp out. "Is this-- what about your reputation--?"

"Don't start." His fingers trail the lines of your body, his eyes fixed on the parts of you he caught only blurry glimpses of in your ex's video. It didn't do you justice.

He wants to pretend there's nothing to this besides convenience--you did owe him. Hell, you wanted to sleep with him. You always made that crystal clear. Now he's just allowing himself to give in to baser impulses like a dog snatching up a rabbit thrown into its path.

But you're right. This will look bad if someone finds out. He should worried, but it's hard to care about that when the thing competing for his attention is the filthy way your pussy swallows him again and again, seeing how slick you leave the base of his cock.

He should've used a condom. He knows for a fact you knew he didn't and you said nothing. He'd tell you off for it now, too, but he's absolutely certain it would just make you cum. The nerve of you.

His hips stutter for a second before he can banish that thought from his mind. He shouldn't like the idea of you being that obsessed. Acting like you'd do anything he asked. Christ, work would be a nightmare if this got out. Him actually sleeping with you. But then again, he suddenly doesn't much like the idea of you finding a different rebound. You'd just be thinking of him anyway, right? Wouldn’t you?

Whatever. He’ll deal with the fallout later. When he's not enjoying your body.

“Who’s going to know?” he murmurs, eyes falling to your chest. “Let it go.”

“Mkay,” you sigh out. There's nothing more you want than to please him right now.

"You'd do anything I asked, wouldn't you." It's not a question. You both know it's true. And he likes that--he hates admitting it, but he does. His eyes drop to your pussy again, and his hips pick up their pace.

You've spent months flirting with him, teasing him about taking you to bed. Now you're getting everything you want. He's right. Why would you care one goddamn second about the consequences? “Anything.”

He hates how needy you sound when you say that. You're too trusting. He's taking advantage of you. Don't you get that?

His grip on your hips tightens, pushing into you more and more roughly. Your moans rise in pitch and he has to grit his teeth.

“Good." He says lowly. "Then you won't tell a soul about this, will you?"

"But--ah, ngh..." You bite your lip as he stops thrusting and grinds himself into you. You gyrate your hips, needing friction. "But people already think we're together."

“Do they? That’s a bold claim.” You're overestimating how many people believe silly rumors. Besides, it's hardly your concern anymore. He lays his palms flat on the table on either side of you, bracing himself. Your skin is so soft; your neck tempts him, but he restrains himself. "You're keeping your mouth shut from now on, yeah?"

You let out a sound of frustration as he slows even further. You try to push your hips harder against his. "Sergeant, please!"

"You want this, don't you?" His voice is chilled, but the heat in his eyes as he stares down at your bucking hips is hardly discouraging. "You'll want it again. You'll keep wanting it."

"Ugh, yes," you snap, squeezing your thighs fruitlessly around his toned waist.

"As long as you don't tell a soul about this, I’ll see to it that you get what you want," he growls. "Not your team, your friends, your stupid ex. No one."

You open your mouth to question him again, but he pulls away and snaps his hips hard into yours. Whatever you were about to say dissolves into a string of semi-coherent affirmations. Yes, you'll keep it quiet. Yes, you'll pretend none of this ever happened. Yes, you'll never use his name on base again. Anything he wants. Just don't stop.

"Good girl. Good girl..." Easy enough. Now that he knows how to get his way with you, you shouldn't be such a problem anymore. He can’t help but be a little greedy, though. "You're not going to fuck anyone else, either."

"Never!"

He grunts in approval. "And you'll never--and I mean never --try to get back with your ex. Understand? You'll stay away from him."

You writhe and plead, winding your arms around his shoulders. He grabs your wrists and pins them to the table, the muscles in his arms taut.

"Do. You. Understand?" His voice comes down on you like low thunder, all around you.

"Yes!"

"Good. I'll know if you do. Mm…" His breathing grows shallow. Your heat is impossibly tight, and tightening up even more. He squeezes your wrists. "You going to cum?"

"C-Can I?" you breathe out. "Please, can I cum?"

His hips stutter and he has to close his eyes for a moment. God, he's never been tested like this.

"Sergeant, please!"

"Cum," he says, the word short and sharp like gunfire. "Cum on my cock. Right now."

He presses his thumb to your clit and you wail, clenching around him like you haven't cum in weeks. Your body rolls, practically convulses, your head knocking against your dining table as you arch up. He lets out a snarl, not slowing down despite how painfully tight you squeeze him.

Once you come down from the high, his pace never slowing, your swollen core twitches and spasms with overstimulation. You cry out, but you make yourself stay in place. You want to keep making him feel good. You want to make him feel better than he ever has.

"Cum inside me," you pant out. "I-I'm on birth control. You can-- please--"

"You're a liar," he growls through clenched teeth even as he picks up his pace.

"I promise," you plead. Even if you're a liar, and you are, you're not lying about this. God, you want him to do it so bad you can feel yourself clench up again at the thought.

You're teetering on the edge of another orgasm when he pulls out, spilling his load across your chest and stomach instead.

You clench down on nothing, feeling a strange sense of satisfaction even as your orgasm ebbs out of reach. You let your head fall back onto the table, your breathing heavy. You don't see his eyes running over you, deliberating.

"Sergeant?"

"Mm?"

"Do you maybe want my phone number?" Almost seems like a silly question. He has your address now anyway.

"Hm." He pulls away, picking up your discarded purse from the mess of clothes on the floor. He pulls out your phone and opens your texts, types in his number, and sends himself a quick message. Then he finds your conversation with your ex-boyfriend. His eyes narrow. The last texts exchanged were earlier tonight. And you started it. You told him you were out to dinner with someone else. Just to get a rise out of your ex. It obviously worked.

That's okay, he figures, opening the menu and blocking your ex's number. If there's one person he does want to know about this, it's that arsehole. Maybe now he'll stay away from you.

You sit up. "Kyle?"

His eyes meet yours, steady and unwavering. "Yeah?"

"Were you serious?"

"I was."

"Even about coming over again?"

"I mean every word I say.” He hands your phone back to you and begins to get dressed.

You watch him, grasping the edge of the table. "When will you be back?"

"My squad leaves on assignment tomorrow. Don't know how long it'll be." He zips up and grabs his t-shirt. "I'll text you."

"Right, right." You suppress a sigh. "Always got a job to do."

He slings his coat over his shoulder, then pauses. He knows he shouldn't, but he can't help but reach his hand out to your cheek. He runs the back of his finger over your jawline. Then he disguises the tender gesture by gripping your chin and pulling it up so you're looking him in the eye.

"Behave," he tells you, voice low. "No sleeping around. No flirting of any kind. Is that clear?"

Your heart pounds. You swallow and nod.

"Good," he says, holding your gaze a moment longer.

As he leaves, closing the door behind him, he curses himself.

This is not a good idea. What's he trying to do, fix you? Stupid, stupid, stupid. This isn't going to end well. You're not good for him. But damn if he doesn't feel more satisfied than he has in years.

He has no choice. If he wants you to behave, he'll have to keep your eyes on him. Whether he’s on base or not.

...

part 1 / [part 2]

more Gaz / masterlist tag

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mo0nfairy · 1 year

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I gotta see a part of yandere Leon where reader remembers him as they get through los Iluminados maybe some yandere in action lol (at least only if you want to!)

part 1. part 3. part 4.

tw :: obsessive!leon, yandere!leon, mention of drugs, framing, handcuffs, stalking, trauma, guns, wounds, heights, being locked up.

⸺ ooooooo !!! i've been meaning to make a part 2 of my last ask, but had zero idea where to go from where i ended. i also had played a bit of RE2 before the remake came out recently, so a piece of my brain has been kept up in raccoon city for a little while. i would love to express my thoughts and mesh these two games together !!

let's start with where we left off in los iluminados.

upon having your handcuffs taken off by the stranger who is far too close for comfort, you pace backwards, far away as you can get from this insanity of a man. his attitude abruptly shifts into something softer, a major contrast to the emotional breakdown he had just seconds prior. he realizes you're afraid — afraid of him. and as much as the mere thought destroys him to the point of breaking down again, he shoves a sob back down his throat and keeps his distance, despite how desperately he wishes to close it.

6 years. 6 years. he has been waiting over 2,190 miserable days for this single moment. all the sleepless nights spent searching the world for you; all the hopeless nights spent clinging to pillows, praying by some miracle it will somehow become you. every second of these past 6 years has been spent dreaming of this single moment. and even though your reunion wasn't the teary-eyed, passionate kiss in the rain he had hoped for, you are still here with him nonetheless.

and like hell will he let you slip from his grasp again.

with as much time as his needy self would grant him being physically away from you, he is soon at your side. leon then wraps you in his jacket and you swear you hear a harsh gasp escape from him when his finger accidentally makes contact with the skin of your neck. despite your negligence and more-than-obvious discomfort, you do appreciate the new warm embrace after a week of cold rain and damp clothes. it smells exactly like him, as well.

and with that, he's got a gentle hand hovering over your lower back as he guides you through the depths of this hellhole. and piece by piece, memories that had been buried in your brain begin to disinter themselves.

for example, you got a staring problem bro?? for the entirety of the time you spend with leon in los iluminados, there is literally never a single moment where this mans eyes are not on you. half of the time it is to ensure you are unharmed, but the other half consists of him staring in complete and utter awe. it's kind of hard to focus on surviving when leon is constantly staring into your soul. but it has just been so fucking long since he has been able to see you in all of your glory, so please excuse him for any inappropriate behavior on his end.

also, you knew you have lived in raccoon city for a short period of time before the events of RE2 happened, but like everything else that relates to that damned place, you couldn't remember a thing.

except now. leon's gaze uncovers a memory you have of yourself being held in one of the RPD holding cells. the atrocious scent, the uncomfortable bench, the paint peeling from the walls. you try and scrutinize what on earth you could have been arrested for, but your attempts are merely futile. but unbeknownst to you, your arrest was nothing but bullshit. and to say leon has had a crush on you from the second you moved into RC would be nothing short of the truth. so, by pulling some strings, the rookie had managed to lock you up for what he calls 'bonding time'. he'll place a chair backwards in front of your cell, prop his arms on the backrest and admire you with your full attention finally on him (instead of just stalking you around town).

two things you now remember about this man: he was so adorably baby-faced back then and my god, was he awkward. he still cannot talk for shit and i mean this with my whole heart. his sweet, innocent eyes gaze at you while he tries to play it cool, pulling cards like "yeah, i workout" and "you come here often?". all as if he hadn't personally arrested you for possession of illegal substances he planted himself. (nothing will happen to you, obvi. he just desperately needed a second alone with you to show off how charismatic he can be. or try to be, at least).

and for the short second of seeing him after 6 years, his eyes were just devoid of any life. you had assumed the trauma inflicted from that night had caused such a contrast in his physical appearance, and you would be right to assume that. but the soulless eyes, monotone voice, and lackluster personality was entirely due to your disappearance. days upon days of the lonely, eternal torment destroyed his sanity. however, that illustrious boy you can barely remember seems to have returned with your presence.

another thing you can't believe you had forgotten was how intense his stare is. the way he stares is illegible and sometimes overwhelming. he shivers in his stance, whimpers at your every move, and his mind runs rampant with all sorts of obsessive declarations of love. although it may seem creepy to others and especially yourself, do not fret. he has no ill intent towards you, god he could never! this puppy-dog of a man is simply marveling at your sheer existence.

you are able to retrieve another lost memory when you have to jump from a window and into his arms (for those who say he won't be able to catch you, stfu. have ya'll seen how beefy his arms are??? anyways....). the secret agent you have grown to like during your stay in los iluminados jumps down marvelously (most def showing off his james-bond-esque agilities to you). he now watches from below as you stare at the distance beneath you in trepidation. this distrust you have — he is going to travel to the ends of the universe to fix it. no matter what.

you begin to ponder, he has savagely brutalized all threats in your path and held your hand as if he were holding the world all in the same breath. you should trust him, especially after witnessing the pure display of loyalty he has for you.

"don't be afraid, y/n. i'll catch you, i promise!" there is 10000% a way to walk through the house and down the stairs to get to him, but ofc he's not gonna tell you. why would he willingly throw away the opportunity to be your knight in shining armor?

"you will?" your voice is full of apprehension. his stare on you feels like the same bullets he's forced upon your attackers.

"always."

with that, you rip the bandaid off and jump from the ledge. and leon was most certainly not lying. you land safely in his embrace and he wraps his arms tightly around your form. and to finally have you so close, after so, so long of devastatingly praying he could feel you once more.......... if he had a tail, it would for sure be wagging so fast it would morph into a blur. and the way he holds you is different, as if his gentle nature is reserved for you and you only (which it is. this is literally him in a nutshell).

and when you had instinctively buried your face into his neck upon landing, clinging to him out of fear of hitting the ground, he literally melts. i'm serious, he literally just 🫠🫠🫠🫠. the faint hum of laughter and adoration that escapes his throat breaks you out of your state of shock. you made it safely to the ground without breaking every bone in your body, hooray! (as if there is a single reality in existence where leon would ever allow that to happen, but i digress).

you meet his gaze and there is that all-too familiar stare he gives you. leon's arms holding onto you like a lifeline uncovers a memory you have of yourself being held like this all those years ago. you can't recall exactly where in raccoon city you were, but you can remember how humiliated you were when you tripped over a crack in the pavement and ate shit. there was the fairest of scrapes against your shin, but the mortification hurt far more than any wound. while you dust yourself off and attempt to ignore the burning stares of pedestrians, a shout of your name sparks your attention.

the RPD gear and besotted eyes you're met with could be no other than that baby-faced rookie. you ponder of what he was doing on this side of town. was it a simple coincidence you had run into each other? or perhaps, had he followed you? just when you think you can't feel more embarrassed, leon gets down on one knee and dramatically inspects your wound. and my god, he acts like you were shot or something. he visibly shudders from the sight of your leg; people begin to gather around the commotion. with pure ease, he then scoops you into his arms to bring you to safety. you can feel his heart pound like a machine gun beneath the palm of your hand.

despite the humiliation deprived from this event, you fortunately are free from anything mortifying in los iluminados. however, leon doesn't seem to understand when to take a hint.

"uh... you can put me down now." you come out of your memory to thrash in his grasp and avoid his intense gaze, but your prince charming seems to still be caught in his y/n-filled daze.

after a few long seconds, your comment seems to finally reach his brain. "huh?" his response is faint and you almost don't hear it.

you repeat yourself and begrudgingly, leon then slowly puts you back onto your feet, savoring the last few seconds spent with you in his arms. exactly where you belong. you can only fear how much more suffocating affection you'll have to endure before you can finally remember what happened that night.

i think someone legit needs to slap me across the face and bring me back into reality cause holy shit...... i went WAYY too far with this. my brain is a mess thank u for reading.

i have more thoughts about this........ just incase u were curious........ ;)

#resident evil 4 #re4 #re4 remake #resident evil #leon kennedy #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy imagine #yandere leon kennedy #yandere resident evil #yandere #gn reader #gender neutral reader #venus’ brain #moonfairy

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taizi · 3 months

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gently in the cold dark earth

scum villain's self saving system word count: 2k canon divergent / no system au; sy transmigrates into an empty npc role; gray lotus binghe loves his shixiong more than life and he's ready to make it everyone's problem

title borrowed from work song by hozier

read on ao3

The first thing Luo Binghe does when he escapes the Abyss is return to Cang Qiong Mountain.

With Xin Mo secured to his back, the way could be instant if he so chose—the journey of a thousand miles reduced to a single step—but he unsheathes the elegant jian at his hip instead.

Yong Liang sings sweetly for him, the snow white blade still shining and untainted even after years of helping Luo Binghe carve his way through hell. It has never once failed him, soulbound to the one person still on this earth who has never failed him.

“Take it,” his shixiong insisted, low and urgent. The Abyss was behind them, an even deadlier threat was ahead, and Without A Cure clogging his meridians made Luo Binghe the best choice to wield the only unshattered spirit sword they had between them. “Binghe, take it.”

He pressed until Luo Binghe’s grip curled tight around the hilt, not hesitating to put his soul in Luo Binghe’s hands even with the rosy glow of an unsealed demon mark shining on his face.

Luo Binghe flies at a pace best described as dangerously reckless, hardly smelling the fragrant spring air or feeling the sun on his face. His robes are a disgrace, his hair a tangled, matted mess, and it occurs to him that he could stop somewhere and clean himself up, make himself presentable, but it’s a brief, fleeting thought.

Shen Yuan would be furious to find out that Luo Binghe wasted even a single second returning to his side.

——

He passes through the ancient wards effortlessly, feeling them fall away from him like water. It’s a simple thing to tamp down on his demonic qi, to disguise the parts of him that those so-called righteous cultivators would scorn. He ghosts through the familiar grounds as eagerly as a starving animal bolting down a fresh game trail, but one by one, all of their familiar haunts come up empty, without even a lingering trace of Shen Yuan’s spiritual energy left behind.

The head disciple’s room is dusted and undisturbed, as if its occupant might walk through the door at any moment, but the lack of clutter and the empty book shelf makes it very clear to Luo Binghe what the truth must be.

If Shen Yuan returned to the peak after the Conference, he didn’t stay.

All at once, images crowd the front of his mind—his shixiong grieving, pulling away, turning his back on those responsible for his heartache.

Yue Qingyuan, always only a step behind wherever his precious Xiu Ya sword went, promised that no one wanted to hurt them. They only wanted to help.

He looked so solemn and righteous that Shen Yuan reluctantly allowed himself to be convinced. Luo Binghe, who had gone to the man for help after a bloody whipping when he was a child, only to be given a walnut cake and turned away at the door, knew better.

He wasn’t surprised when Shen Yuan was wrenched away from him, and shizun sent him staggering off the cliff with a spiritual dagger buried to the hilt in his chest, all of it happening within a matter of seconds—but it still hurt.

Shen Yuan’s scream followed him all the way down.

I’m alive, Luo Binghe thinks, with no one there to tell it to. I came back to you. Let me come back to you.

——

Including time spent in the abyss, it’s three years before they meet again.

Luo Binghe’s revenge is his second priority at best, but he is nothing if not efficient and knows how to kill two birds with the same stone. Huan Hua affords him ample resources and opportunities to scour the world for his missing shixiong while playing the role of earnest and diligent new disciple. He snatches up each mission that comes along as though eager to prove his worth to the sect that so graciously took him in, but he takes every excuse to wander, to search, to make conversation with vendors and innkeepers and passing strangers.

Have you seen my heart? It lives outside of me in the form of a beautiful young man and tends to wander. Very contrary, likes to fuss over people, could argue the stripes off a lushu just for fun. You’d know it if you met it. You’d never forget.

The days blur together, meaningless and gray, but he doesn’t stop looking. Shen Yuan still exists somewhere in this world, because otherwise Luo Binghe wouldn’t. It’s the only thing that makes sense. The alternative doesn’t bear thinking about.

And then, finally—an afternoon in Jinlan City, when Luo Binghe arrives in a throng of incompetent gold-clad Huan Hua disciples, to investigate a plague of all things—

He’s there.

In dark, neutral colors and plain clothes, a traveling cloak with its hood resting down around his shoulders, as if his beauty could possibly be lessened by cheap, shapeless fabrics rather than effortlessly enhanced. His hair falls from its half-tail in glorious waves—he never did have the patience for anything elaborate, only wearing braids when one of his sticky shidimei cajoled and convinced him. Traveling alone, who could he possibly have to roll his eyes at and complain about and sit patiently still for?

A pale green ribbon is all that decorates his hair. Luo Binghe recognizes it instantly.

“You should spend your allowance on yourself, Binghe,” Shen Yuan scolded him, not for the first time and certainly not for the last.

“But I did,” Luo Binghe protested, widening his eyes and clasping his hands earnestly, the way he knew worked best. “I wanted it! And now that I have it, I want to give it to you.”

Shen Yuan was too clever by half to be truly fooled by the innocent act, but he always folded like paper anyway. He spoiled all of his shidimei but Luo Binghe most of all. Anyone on Qing Jing Peak would be hard-pressed to think of a single example of Shen Yuan telling Luo Binghe ‘no.’

Sure enough, after a second spent visibly wrestling with himself, he blurted, “Oh, fine! Hand it over.”

He wore it every day since. He’s wearing it now. The wind catches the ends of it, sending it streaming behind him like the tails of a paradise flycatcher. Lovely.

For a brief moment, Luo Binghe is frozen where he stands, finally faced with the very thing that he’s been missing for years, that he’s been living a miserable half-life without.

And then he remembers himself and lurches forward. His voice is a tangle in his throat but he manages to choke out, “Shixiong!”

A strike of lightning couldn’t have jolted Shen Yuan into more perfect stillness. He stops mid-step, every inch of him as good as carved from precious jade. He doesn’t turn his head, and the sliver of his face visible from where Luo Binghe stands is very pale.

Luo Binghe wonders suddenly if this has happened to him before—if Shen Yuan has heard a voice on the road or in the market that was almost familiar, that was almost the one he was hoping for, only to be disappointed when he turned to follow it and found a stranger.

Luo Binghe shortens the distance between them with a few anxious steps and tries again.

“Shixiong.”

The older boy whirls around abruptly, as if to get it over with. He’s bracing himself, but Luo Binghe barely has a second to absorb Shen Yuan’s painful-looking anticipation before it bleeds out of his face in favor of something else entirely.

He looks like the earth has fallen out from beneath his feet, like he hardly dares to believe his eyes. Zheng Yang gleams golden at Shen Yuan’s hip, reforged and whole again.

“Binghe?”

“It’s me,” Luo Binghe says softly.

There’s a tableau he’s afraid to break, as if they’re in a delicate dreamscape and a move too sudden or loud might dissolve it. He wants to say I’ve missed you the way lungs miss air, immediately and needfully, I haven’t breathed at all since we’ve been apart. He wants to say you’re my light in the dark, I can only stand in front of you now because I love you too much to ever truly leave you.

Instead, he tells his dearest friend, “This one made you wait. But your Binghe is here.”

Shen Yuan sprints the rest of the way to meet him, almost before he’s even finished talking, and they collide in a solid embrace that knocks the air from them both.

His arms wind around Luo Binghe’s waist like steel bands, fingers digging into the back of his robes, precious face pressed into the crook of his neck and shoulder. Luo Binghe doesn’t hesitate to gather him up close, holding him as tightly and securely as he knows how, burying his nose in his shixiong’s hair and breathing in the familiar, beloved smell of him.

Shen Yuan is a few inches shorter than he remembers. All the better to tuck him beneath Luo Binghe’s chin, to cover and surround him so completely that not even the heavens above can get a decent eyeful.

He wants to grab and bite and pin Shen Yuan beneath him and never let go. His jaw aches with wanting it.

“I’ve been looking for you,” Luo Binghe says, eyes wet. “I went home first.” Unsaid goes the obvious but you weren’t there.

“How could I stay?” Shen Yuan bites out, managing to sound all at once strangled and bewildered and—charmingly—offended. He shakes his head without lifting it, an aggressive nuzzle against Binghe’s shoulder. “After what they did to you, I’d rather die than represent their stupid sect another minute.”

“Step away from it, Shen Yuan,” shizun said coldly. “I’ll put that beast back where it belongs.”

“No,” shixiong said in a voice that was smaller than usual, one that shook. He was frightened, clearly overwhelmed, but he didn’t budge from where he was plastered in front of Luo Binghe like a breathing shield.

“Now.”

“No, shizun.”

“Shizhi,” Yue Qingyuan said gently, offering his hand. “Come here. It will be alright.”

Shen Yuan said, “No. You can’t hurt Binghe. He’s not bad just because of who his parents are. He’s as good as he was yesterday, and the day before that, and the day before that. He’s hardworking and loyal and a sweetheart to anybody who gives him half a chance. He’s so good.”

Liu Qingge was behind the sect leader, sword drawn. Shen Qingqiu was quickly losing what little patience he had, face twisted into a sneer, dark eyes stabbing hatefully at Luo Binghe from over his head disciple’s shoulder. There were more figures rapidly drawing closer, the other peak lords following the flare of Yue Qingyuan’s qi. The standoff was becoming more and more untenable, and Shen Yuan was too smart not to see that, shrinking back against Luo Binghe as much as he could without crowding him closer to the edge.

“You can’t hurt him,” he said again, the closest Luo Binghe had ever heard him come to tears, “he’s my shidi.”

Luo Binghe is unsurprised by his shixiong’s loyalty, because it’s already been proven to him over and over. It’s unremarkable at this point, which is an absolutely remarkable thing in itself. It makes him feel warm with gratitude and affection and ownership.

Shen Yuan is clever and quick on his feet and always three steps ahead, more knowledgeable about flora and fauna than anyone else Binghe has ever known combined, and probably a force to be reckoned with as a rogue cultivator, where the only rules of conduct he has to adhere to are his own.

But Luo Binghe hates to think of him on the road alone, without the little martial siblings who follow him like ducklings, without his Binghe there to make sure he remembers to eat all his meals and comb out his hair before bed. He’s a creature of comfort, made for airy rooms with too many cushions and an abundance of sweets and books to read.

Luo Binghe has fantasized more than once about building a home for Shen Yuan to lounge prettily in. It was, in fact, his favorite flavor of daydream since he was about thirteen.

If Shen Yuan wants to rogue cultivate, then that’s what they’ll do. But Luo Binghe thinks, if he constructs a palace that’s as comfortable as it is grand, and fills it with trashy romance novels and obscure beasts and his own hand-made meals, he can convince his friend to live in it with him.

Shen Yuan needs to be taken care of. Luo Binghe needs to be the one taking care of him. They’re together now and they’ll never be apart again and those needs can both be met.

That possessive, proprietary feeling coils dark and deep inside him, undulating lazily like a serpent who’s fed enough for days, reminding him over and over what he already knows:

Mine.

#scum villian self saving system #svsss #bingyuan #bingqiu #luo binghe #shen yuan #my writing #svsss fic #sy transmigrates into a blank role in a world where his favorite character exists #and he's supposed to - what ? NOT fulfill his personal fantasy of being lbh's best friend ?? ok 🙄#naturally binghe has been obsessed since the moment this pretty boy first smiled at him #bingbing i love you you deserve a good shixiong / future wife and i'm here to deliver #ALSO sy's sword name is (yǒng) meaning perpetual ; eternal ; forever #and 亮 (liàng) meaning bright ; clear ; to show ; to shine #in my mind's eye zheng yang is golden so yong liang's silvery white is the perfect compliment #YOU ARE NOT IMMUNE TO THE SUN & MOON SHIP DYNAMIC 🫵#heaven and hell were words to me

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seraphdreams · 1 year

Text

NO PHOTOS — BAJI KEISUKE/KAZUTORA HANEMIYA.

— CONTAINS. fem!reader, 3some, slight choking, praise/degradation, reader is referred to as sweetheart and doll, multiple rounds, tora is an energetic fucker. 18+ mdni.

— WORD COUNT. 4.0k

— NOTES. this is like my 50th repost cause i’m trying to not get flagged but i hope you enjoy the first addition to this miniseries. i really loved writing it all and i hope i don’t have to repost it again :( also listen to the song “no photos” by don toliver!

— LINKS. series masterlist — general masterlist.

They say rivalries could fuck up a friendship.

Not particularly for Baji and Kazutora though.

Rivalry was invigorating to them, something they needed in their day to day lives like water to survive, and even after their childhood years, they still found themselves battling against each other somehow. So, it didn’t come as much of a surprise to Kazutora when he arrived at Bonten’s freshly established headquarters, complete with its own separate hotel and casino, to see that his opponent was Shibuya’s best, Baji Keisuke.

A smirk then followed a laugh when Hanemiya thought over it more. Baji? It’d been years since he last saw his best friend, his only fond memory being attending Keisuke’s graduation; How strange of someone with their veterinary degree to take on racing. To each their own, he presumed.

In turn, however, Kazutora spent most of his time in jail. Trouble seemed to follow him everywhere he went like a lost puppy with its unreliable owner. And at the end of every day, he promised himself he’d get better—He had to. And he did. Prison struck the opportunity for him to pick up new dexterities, other than his last hobby of breaking and entering. With that, he grew increasingly knowledgeable in the field of motorbikes. Once he got out, he landed himself a job at a local bike shop. Comfortable; the pay was great, he did what he loved, and when he was exceptionally lucky, he’d get to compete against others in his area, being an undefeated favorite as well.

Now with him settled into his suite, alongside his roguish roommate, the need for competition grew stronger.

“It’s been a minute, huh, Keisuke?” Kazutora sighs out, laying across the opposite side of his bed. Coming from Tora, it was rich. Rich in the sense that whenever it came down to the two going head to head back in Shibuya, Kazutora conveniently found himself sitting in a cell. “Sure has. I was startin’ to think your bum ass was scared of me.” Baji responds with a snicker, adjusting his head on the headboard of the luxurious hotel bed.

“Never. But hey..” Kazutora starts, sitting up straight and resting his weight against his hands behind him. From the shift in octave of his last vocables, Baji knew to listen intently despite aimlessly scrolling on his phone. Probably looking at bikes again..

“Y’seen that new girl Bonten’s been hoarding? Fucking gorgeous.” Kei’s focus flits immediately to Hanemiya. “New girl?”

If you could only see the look on Tora’s face when he described you, as if he’d seen an angel from Heaven and came back down to Earth just to report it back to Baji. It was entertaining to say the least, how expressive he got when telling Keisuke you were about this tall, and your hair was the sexiest shade of this color, and he can’t fucking forget about your body. Each dip and curve of your frame was engraved into his brain with so much depth that if he’d somehow end up with amnesia, he couldn’t forget—He wouldn’t forget.

“Sounds like a real peach. The hell they need her for?” Baji queries. The truth being, Bonten needed you as a morale booster. Someone to remind them they were human even after a gruesome day’s work, and of course at times they’d get distracted, bend you over the desk in God-knows-who’s office just to make the prettiest mess out of you. It kept their spirits high, and they were fun men so you didn’t mind as much as you should’ve.

Kazutora thought for a second on what his next words would be. Spontaneously, he asks, “Wanna find out?” The question didn’t quite register in Baji’s mind until Tora graciously added that you were the designated flag girl. What a shame it’d be if you didn’t get to know your racers a few hours before they become less than friends and more than foe.

—

Last night’s packing took an immense amount of your energy, leaving you only to manage a quick shower in the morning after less than a full night's rest. You blamed Haru; That forgetful bastard, only he would make the mistake of relaying to you that the flight leaves at 6 A.M instead of P.M, which forced you to scramble for time you thought you had.

When you finally arrived at your suite, you opted for a nap to rejuvenate lost time, and fortunately you had been granted the night shift at what was beginning to feel like your new part-time job. You slept soundly without distractions for the next few hours, and once you awoke, a necessary shower was in your presence.

It wasn’t until you stepped out of the shower that you noticed your phone buzzing on the counter, paired with an unknown caller ID at the top of the screen. Normally, you’d ignore it, wait for the ringing to stop and carry on with whatever plans you had for the day, but since Bonten had a particular way of wiring your phone, to say the least, who knew what business you could be called in for.

“Hello?” You hold the phone between your ear and shoulder as you drape the towel around your dampened body. A soft voice projects through the other line, so gentle as though it were merely a whisper. “Is this Y/N?”

You move on to heading out the bathroom and into the bedroom where you set the phone on speaker and begin to apply your smell-goods. “Mhm, what’re you calling for?” There’s a brief bout of silence from the other side until the familiarity of hearing that docile tone vacated and it was replaced by a deeper, brasher timbre. “Y’not busy, are ya? Gotta race in a minute ‘nd ‘m losin’ motivation, sweetheart.” The sentiment of the pet name had heat surging through your body.

This must’ve been what Rindou was talking about. And to think all that talk about needing to “stick close by his side” because the others were bound to want you, was just a scheme to be possessive. Maybe actually listening to Bonten could teach you a few things.

You weren’t dumb as to not realize who was on the phone. It clicked for you the moment you heard his voice. He was your Boss’s friend, the one you reigned attractive against the others in the photos he’d shown you. Mikey had warned you that he was an unpredictable man, but seeing as Sanzu was someone you dealt with on a daily basis (regardless of if you wanted to or not), Baji was nothing.

Surely, you weren’t too busy with anything, and a quick welcome visit couldn’t hurt. “Not busy at all. Which room are you in, Keisuke?”

Fucking hell. Just how cute can you get? Kei tries his hardest to not let the grin on his features go noticed, or to not let the excitement rush straight to his dick, yet he fails at both. “Na, Kazutora..” You could hear him on the other end calling for Tora’s attention. “What room are we in?”

You couldn’t hear Tora’s response over the phone but luckily Baji was gracious enough to repeat it a second time, not necessarily just for you to hear; but for emphasis. An allure, roughly.

Room 602 — Who knows what’s to come?

Luckily, you were provided with the cutest checkered set, a gift from Ran Haitani himself—complete with a teensy tiny skirt and tight little crop top that left no part of your chest to the imagination. Truly adorable, the way it had fit your body, the uneasy feeling of bareness waning away once you stepped into your platform Miu Miu heels.

After some twirling in the mirror, you felt ready enough to make your way to their suite. You knocked gently against the lacquered door, in contrast to how sturdy, heavy almost, it felt underneath your knuckles. The handle turns and the door is pulled from the inside, revealing the men who occupied the area.

They had to be over 6’0, the both of them. You weren’t expecting to be towered over within the first ten seconds of arriving, it was evident on their features that they found you rather cute. The one you came to recognize as Baji was posted against the wall with his arms crossed, sharp eyes taking you in gradually. Hmm, intimidating.

The other held the door open, a soft close-eyed smile on his face. Ran would make the same expression with you at times too. A dark mole near his right eye gave him a more feminine look in comparison to the raven haired male a foot behind him. He seemed friendly, this must’ve been the carrier of the dulcet voice you heard from before.

“Cute outfit, that what you’re wearing tonight?” Baji queries, relaxing his stance in the slightest. Kazutora pulls the door in more, allowing you ample room to slip past him and to shut the door behind you. It takes a while for you to slowly nod while taking in the view of their room. Bonten really outdid themselves when coming up with floor plans for the hotel because every inch of each square foot seemed to be crafted specifically to fit their divine tastes. Nevertheless, a golden view of the water from the window situated in the living space. “I’ll try not to ruin it then.” Huh? What does he mean by that?

Your focus hastily snaps back to the man before you, a sinister smirk quirking at his lips that reveals two sharp… fangs? He’s far more frightening in person.

A hand on your wrist enthusiastically guides you to their room, it’s Kazutora, sitting you down amongst the bedsheets. Baji follows behind him, sitting across from you two. “Tora, relax. You’ll scare her.” You giggle at Keisuke’s assertiveness, receiving an eyebrow raise from him as soon as the airy chuckles reach his ears. “‘m not scared.” You respond, hands placed over your bare thighs.

“You’re so cute, like a doll. You’d let us get to know you a bit?” Kazutora’s voice resonates from the side of you he sat beside. You turn to look at him only now noticing his golden-hued eyes.

Very pretty.

“Of course.” Your response came out in a reassuring tone, the pair falling harder and harder for you as each second passes. Kazutora’s hands wrap around your waist to pull you closer to him, the tips of his fingers dancing dangerously close to your inner thighs.

“You gotta boyfriend?” He sing-songs. Baji leans in closer despite only being two feet away, his hands folded and rested over his lap. “Not technically.” You chime out, feeling as though you’ll go dizzy from the tantalizing scent of the man beside you.

“Not technically?” It’s Baji’s voice you hear now. “I mean, ‘m not with Bonten, but sometimes they treat me like a girlfriend.” Which wasn’t far from the truth. Your relationship with Bonten could be described as something similar to a friends with benefits ordeal. Not quite, but not far off.

“Your little boyfriends would probably be disappointed if they found out you were here, huh?” In response to Baji’s question, you shake your head. “They don’t have to know.”

So perfect and so fucking dumb. What did they do to deserve you?

Kazutora’s hand trails up your abdomen, to your sternum, and right under your jaw where he grips your throat with the lightest pressure and angles your head upwards to meet his eyes.

Those same friendly orbs from before diminished into something colder, with the faintest hint of mirth behind them. “Be honest with me, pretty baby. Who do ya think is gonna win today’s race? Me, or Keisuke?”

Hypnosis is what it felt like when you stared into his eyes, attempting to muster up an answer that would satisfy both parties, although you just… didn’t know. Kei’s eyes narrow as they land on Tora’s, the quick glance they give each other filled with devilry.

“I-I don’t know.” You give him your final resolve. Kazutora releases his grip on you and moves his hands back to your thighs, slightly pushing them open to reveal the barely there panties you wore underneath your skirt. “Don’t know?” Hanemiya’s voice is whispered against the shell of your ear, the warmth of his breath sending shivers down your spine. “How ‘bout we show you? You’d like that?” Hands that were previously between your thighs find themselves tugging down your little shirt, kneading the flesh of your tits softly. You elicit a low whine, nodding your head as Baji situates himself between your thighs, using his sharp teeth to pull the fabric of your panties down until they hang off one ankle.

“Imma make ya feel fucking good.” His eyes lock onto yours as he uses his tongue to switch between flicking and sucking at your clit. Kazutora settles behind you, allowing you to somewhat rest against his back while he continuously plays with your nipples.

Baji’s tongue is dangerous, he’s messy. The feeling of the wet muscle in and out of your core causes a docile whine to reverberate from your throat. He keeps your shaky legs open with his large, calloused hands, his pointed nose inadvertently aiding in the pleasure stemming from your clit and the only way you can really react is by bucking your hips up like a desperate whore. You couldn’t help it, he knows he’s too good.

“Kei-Keisuke!” You stutter out, hand moving to tangle in his dark locks, tugging gently. He returns your whine with a groan, speeding up his ministrations which make your hole twitch around him, legs threatening to close any second. From his perspective, you looked like an angel. Everything about you so sweet, cute, and innocent. Just the thought of knowing how other men have had their way with you, gets him harder than a fucking rock.

It’s incredibly messy at this point. Kazutora’s lips take purchase on yours, kissing you sloppy and rough. His fingers pinching and pulling at your nipples cause you to go crazy, just a thread holding you back from your orgasm. You’re so incredibly wet too, Keisuke can’t even tell if the strings of slick dripping down the bedsheets come from his saliva or the growth of your arousal.

You can't take anymore at this point, opting to run away from the pleasure instead of giving in, but Baji’s hands grip hard around the fat of your thighs, keeping you still as he gives you a sharp glance, one that’s only a warning. Kazutora pulls away to recollect his breath, eyes scanning over the scene on display. There’s a dopey grin on his face that you miss as he watches your clit twitch. “Fuck, her pussy’s so pretty!”

“Gonna cum! L-Lemme cum!” Your voice is slurred, hips uncontrollably rutting into Baji’s mouth. He slows the jerking of his own hips against the mattress, pulling away from your heat and replacing the lost feeling with his fingers on your clit. He circles them against the nub with slight pressure, watching how your jaw drops open and sonorous mewls slip out.

“This whatcha wanted? Y’sound so pretty, even that pussy’s talkin’ ta me.”

You were too caught up in your own pleasure to even notice the raunchy squelches of your creamy cunt resonating throughout the room. How embarrassing.

It only takes a few more moments for your body to convulse under the sensation, your juices dripping down Kei’s arm and back arched against Kazutora’s chest. “Atta-fucking-girl! Look at that!” Tora coos. That signature smirk returns back to Baji’s features, mesmerized with the way your pussy pulses in orgasm. “We’re gonna have so much fun witcha tonight.”

Keisuke sits up, kneeling at one side of the bed, repositioning you so that you’re arched nice and pretty for him while Kazutora kneels at the other end, your face millimeters from his cock. Kei wraps five digits around the back of your neck, pulling you towards him to meet his eyes. You stare up at him with those angelic orbs, doe eyes rendering nothing behind them, just pure vacancy while you pout in the slightest, a reaction from his vice-like grip around your throat. “Y’gonna take it all for us?” A quiet mhm is muttered from your throat, Baji beaming down at you with his menacing smile, satisfied with your answer. “Be careful with Tora,” Keisuke lets his grip go and he leans down over you, whispering into your ear, loud enough for the other to hear. “He’s a throat fucker.”

He sits back up straight, unzipping his pants slowly before taking out his hard-on. If only you could see how much Kei leaked, just how huge it was. You could only guess when he teasingly slipped the tip in and out, entertained with the way you stretched around him. Kazutora, on the other hand, slides his length down your throat fully, not giving you any time to adjust to his size. Instinctively, you wrap your lips around his shaft, gradually building up a bobbing rhythm.

Kei wanes his teasing enough when he watches how well you envelop the half-blond. He slowly pushes into you at the hilt, sighing out a deep rasp before practically pounding your hole, leaving you no room to adjust to his massive cock.

God, his dick is fucking heavy. It stretches you out wide enough to the point where you feel as though your cunt can’t take anymore, all while your hands grip the sheets underneath you for leverage that only helps in the slightest. Tora’s hand grips at the hollow of your cheek while you continue to take as much of him as you can. He’s really trying his hardest to not let his hips take control and accept the pleasure you’re languidly giving him, yet he fails, letting his hips reel back and cock slip down your awaiting throat. His thrusts are hard in tandem with Baji’s, both the men using you to get off.

Little tears begin to pool at your waterline which Kazutora finds amusement in, fucking your throat at a faster, wilder pace. Vibrations from your throat shoot through the parameters of his length, eliciting a whimper which follows a groan. “So fuckin’ good, baby..”

A harsh slap stings across your ass once Keisuke finds his rhythm, the warmth and wetness of your hole inviting him in like he was just meant to be there. You wince in response, trying your hardest to not run from the pleasure. “Guess your men are good for something, cause fuck, you take it so well.” His hand slips down partially, enough for his thumb to enter your puckered hole, pumping the digit slowly. From this, your eyes roll into the back of your head, legs starting to feel like jello and even you can’t seem to keep yourself arched for him. “Y’got so tight after that, ‘s like you want me to cum in you.”

Your mind goes hazy, the only thing bouncing around in that empty brain of yours being the need to make a mess. Just the feeling alone of being used like a toy has your core tightening, the sign of your next orgasm. Tora’s grasp on your cheeks reach lower, the taut sensation of his hand now around your neck. He groans while watching as his cock struggles to fit down your throat. He could virtually grab his phone and record how he’s having his way with you, possibly use it for future reference when he’s alone and missing the warmth you give him.

“Ah shit, I think the little thing’s gonna cum. Is that right?” Keisuke goads, using both hands to pull your faltering hips back up. A tiny mhmm is sounded from your throat and he takes his fingers to rub your clit in tight circles. It was almost embarrassing how quickly he coaxed your orgasm from you, spit dripping from your lips and around Tora’s shaft as a sheer layer of your essence coats the entirety of Keisuke’s cock.

The sight of it all has Tora’s eyes crossing and balls tightening, being the first to shoot his load into your mouth. He gradually slows his movements to a halt, pulling from your mouth to give you a chance to finally breathe. You’re gasping, practically choking when air settles back into your lungs, your body shaking from the overstimulation of Baji inside your heat.

There’s a hard thrust, then another before Baji releases inside you, creating a beautiful mosaic of the messes you both made. Quite the artist, he was.

Before you know it, you’re being manhandled into yet another position, this time being ass up for Kazutora and face to cock with Baji. Just how much stamina do these guys have?

Kazutora’s first to slip in, a more fucked out moan leaving his lips when he observes the way his cock slips easily into your cunt. You’re so fucking wet, he can’t think straight. Baji lines his length up with your lips, shallowly pushing in. “Just the tip, sweetheart. Wanna see if you know how to control yourself.” You wrap your lips around his plush tip, sucking harshly.

Tora finally starts to move. You’re just too fucking wet he can’t help it when he’s already getting carried away, fucking you senseless. Such a mess on his cock, he’s lost.

It was easier to take in as much as Baji prohibited but with the trajectory of Hanemiya’s thrusts, you’re going past your limit.

“Kazutora, slow the fuck down. You got her chokin’ on my cock more than she usually does” Baji hisses out, vexation fueling his arousal. Even though it wasn’t your fault, you’d probably apologize if you could, let the man before you know that you were totally capable of at least trying to keep control. Much to no avail, Kazutora refuses to ease up, instead letting pleasure overrun his senses.

It was loud. The sounds of skin slapping, mixtures of whining and groaning, anyone from outside the door could probably walk past and hear just how cute you sounded getting fucked out your mind. Maybe that’s what they wanted, the whole establishment to know that you weren’t just Bonten’s little slut, but theirs too.

The next few moments whizz by like nothing, your hole getting stuffed for a second time and your tongue met with the acrid flavor of cum. You’re splayed across the bed, heaving for air with fatigue growing inside you hastily. “So, who d’ya think was better? Me or Kei?” It’s that giddy tone that lets you know it’s Kazutora speaking. Both the men seem unaffected from the previous situations yet you're the one left winded. “Both..You both were really, really good.”

Kazutora makes a buzzer-like sound, as if you’d been mistaken in your resolve. “Wrong! There’s only one winner.” Baji scoffs at Kazutora’s antics, checking the time on his phone. “We should probably head out, seems like races’ll start soon.”

“Do me a favor, baby..” Baji’s words hang off the tip of his tongue purposefully as he makes his way to you, standing you up and adjusting your outfit back in place. “Be good and keep our cum stuffed in this tight little hole, or else your boyfriends’ll be real upset.”

He tilts his head in a mocking manner and you nod along.

A quick wave of goodbye and wishes of “good luck!” leave your lips as you finally leave the BajiTora abode. Tonight’s race should be interesting one.

— In the end, it was Kazutora who reigned victorious, leaving Baji to his first defeat. The victor didn’t matter to them, they just enjoyed it; enjoyed being together whenever they could. For sure, Chifuyu would have to hear about this once they get back home.

After your limited experience of waving around a flag while trying to keep your panties from revealing too much, you grew tired, quite frankly. There had to be other things to do once races completed.

“Wonder what Koko’s doing!”

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aly-writes · 9 months

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Hii can I req for chishiya & Niragi with s/o who has low alcohol tolerance and gets flushed red very easily also wayy too clingy. thank uuuuu

i missed writing headcanons lol, but why is it so hard to get the motivation to do it? here is my attempt to get back in the groove (once more), hope it's to your liking

(these requests are SO OLD)

warnings: none

chishiya and niragi with a drunk s/o

chishiya shuntaro

chishiya has never been one for nightlife, so he never had a chance to see how you act under the influence

just from what he did know about you though, he had a general idea that you probably weren't an experienced drinker

so imagine his surprise when his beloved s/o asks him to go to the bar after a rough game?

obviously he hides it well and just sort of goes with the flow

if it was his choice, he'd rather just have you stay back with him and so he could enjoy your company while he tinkered around

you were on the more quiet side so that's typically how your time spent with each other went

just silence between the two of you, basking in each other's presence

the bar was packed (as per usual) the moment you stepped in. it was peak hours, after all

you ordered a drink or two for yourself and offered to do the same for chishiya, but he declined. he took it upon himself to look out for you, and he couldn't do that if was drinking

he wasn't sure what had pushed you to want to come down here, but he had a good idea

the game you had completed was tougher than usual, and only two of the six people sent made it back alive

he held back a smirk as he watched you down your drinks

the way your face scrunched up was cute and he would definitely be teasing you about it

"can't hold your liquor?"

little did he know how factual that statement was

with how fast you guzzled down the alcohol, you were intoxicated nearly ten minutes later

your words started slurring and heat was rising to your cheeks

"chishiyaaaa"

your whines caught his attention, which at the time was directed towards the many people dancing in the center of the room. he was kind of annoyed that his people-watching got interrupted, but the moment he saw your face he couldn't hold back a chuckle

"wow, i guess you really can't hold your liquor. and here i thought i was just joking around"

yeah lol he's a little shit. despite your obvious intoxicated state, he will still tease you to earth's end and back just to get a reaction out of you

fret not, he only does it because he cares about you and lowkey (highkey) craves your responses

at first you were just whiny, but then you kind of spiraled into something a little more. and by a little more, i mean a lot more

chishiya had never seen you so clingy during his entire time of knowing you

you were very hyper-aware of where his head was at during every moment, so you only initiated affection when you knew he was in the mood and the both of you were in a comfortable place to do so

spoiler alert? this was not a comfortable place

you were all over him

trying to kiss his neck, clutching his arm to your chest, rubbing your face against his shoulder. it was almost like you were a completely different person

your pda levels shot through the roof and tbh he really wasn't having it, so he lightly grabbed your arm and led you out of the bar

it took him a second to get you to his room with how drunk you were, and after only two drinks nonetheless?

you were stumbling into the wall, pointing out anything in the general area that caught your eye, and attempting to drag him around to these said things

after a good twenty-minute walk, yall finally managed to make it to his room where he sat you down on the bed

he made sure to provide you with water before sitting next to you, listening to you ramble on and on

don't be fooled by his cool exterior! you were still clingy as hell with him

except now that he was in the comfort of his own room, he didn't feel the overwhelming urge to push you away

he was still a bit hesitant, and for a moment he just sat still while you squeezed him to death

chishiya doesn't initiate things like kisses or hugs. he prefers to stick to the smaller things such as head pats, hand holds, etc.

it's still the same in this case, even if your levels of affection are amplified by the alcohol

we cannot forget that this man works in the medical field, so taking care of people was his job. he's kinda good at that type of thing when he wants to be

he'll open the water bottle for you and make sure you drink it, even if he has to gently grab your chin and open your mouth for you

"'shiya i don't want to-"

"just drink the water, y/n"

after making sure that you're fairly hydrated, his next step is to put you to sleep

while he's sure you're having a great relaxed experience, he'd rather just get this all over with. and unfortunately, the easiest way to do that is for you to pass out

luckily he knows just the right way to do it because he has done it many times before ;)

while you hug him tight, he will pet down your hair and slowly massage your scalp. dear god does that do it for you, and before you know it you're sleepy

he lowers himself onto the mattress with you and after a few more minutes of the pure bliss that is a scalp massage, you're out like a light

chishiya can be a real asshole sometimes, but you'd be surprised at how sweet he can be when you're asleep

he tucks you in and wipes any excess sweat off of your forehead so you can sleep peacefully as possible. he doesn't really want you to deal with a hangover and a terrible night's rest, so he does what he can to make sure you sleep soundly

and lets just say he prepares the room for your hangover in the morning

he has painkillers, water, and is already mentally preparing himself to wake up early and grab your favorite breakfast

when you wake up and ask where all of it came from though, he will definitely pull the "kuina did it" card

because god forbid you have the knowledge that he did something nice for you

be prepared to never be able to let down that you're a total lightweight, he will relentlessly tease you for it

all is in good fun though, you know him quite well and are fully aware that this is how he shows that he loves you

he's a bastard but he's your bastard

when he makes fun of you for your clinginess you cannot stop apologizing, but you know by the way he's smirking he didn't mind too much

niragi suguru

niragi goes out drinking quite often, but you were never really apart of that mix

he mostly just does it to have a little fun, but he gets quite jealous easily so he never really wanted to bring you around

just the thought of some random person eyeballing you pisses him off, so imagine how he would react if it were to actually happen

niragi doesn't purposefully prevent himself from getting into fights with people (if anything, he provokes people for fun), but when it comes to you he tries to keep your relationship relatively peaceful

it wasn't like that at first, but after some convincing from you (which took a very long time) he tends to avoid situations which he knows will put him in a jealous state

you were the one that asked if you could join him for a couple of drinks

you had wanted to spend a little one-on-one time with him and the thought of just hanging around in your room again seemed kind of boring, so you offered to go drinking to spice things up a bit

you were aware of the strings that were attached when it came to hanging out in loud public places with niragi, so you mentally prepared yourself for the overwhelming possessiveness you were about to endure for the night

he has his arm around you basically the entire time you're there

most of his time is spent giving dirty looks to anybody who dares breathe in your direction lol, so unless you tug his sleeve or tap his arm... you probably won't be getting much of his attention

that's until you actually start drinking

the first thing niragi noticed was the stumbling of your feet. you seemed awfully imbalanced for only being on your third drink...?

it was hard to ignore your clumsy steps, but even harder to ignore the way you gently pulled on his arm

after a while you got sick of waiting for him to face you and impatiently grabbed his chin, forcing his eyes to look at your own

LMAO the look on his face when he sees how flushed you are and the drowsy way you're looking at him

you were always so aware of what you were doing, so this version of you was a complete shock to him

and he's even more shocked when you pull him in for a kiss

your lips were hungry for his and there's no way in hell he would reject that, but you were never one for pda

just by being together with niragi, you're going to have to learn to love pda in some type of way simply because that's just who he is

typically, he was the one who initiated affection in public

you never turned him down or pushed him away, but you tended to prefer more simple things in public

which is why this felt a little... weird? niragi was practically addicted to your affection, but you being so clingy in a crowded place felt off

he's not one to turn down your advances, and in fact, he'd gladly take advantage of it

but because you are his s/o, he sometimes catches himself trying to be a little more mindful of what you would want

this is the reason he ultimately drags you out of the bar and back into his room

he still is getting plenty of enjoyment out of your spontaneous clinginess though, basically basking in it as you walk through the halls of the beach

he ends up stopping every few minutes to reciprocate your kisses. he really enjoys them and also doesn't want to leave you hanging lol

i don't really think there's such thing as being 'too clingy' when it comes to niragi

he loves to show you off, which is why he's so keen on pda. he adores when you're the one to initiate any type of affection, it makes him feel wanted and is a huge boost to his ego

is that a good thing or a bad thing? niragi doesn't think so because he's an ass, but lol i'll let you decide

when you do end up back in his room and in a more private setting, he stops holding himself back and allows you to shower him in every ounce of attention you give out

this isn't to say he doesn't take care of you tho, because he does

he's pretty aware of what you're comfortable with and while it's hard to hold himself back, he'd rather you do such things while you're completely sober so you don't end up leaving him

yeah he's a selfish bitch

he's a little less mindful of treating your hangover in the morning simply because he just never thought that far ahead, but he'll definitely cuddle you all you want if you're up to it

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hazbin-a-helluvamagines · 1 month

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Heyyy I'm sooo happy that you're back ! I hope you're doing ok now ! Make sure to take good care of yourself.☺️

if it's not too much, can we have some Verosika and fizzarolli headcanons with a lil sister reader (platonic obviously)

"Little Sis" ; Fizzarolli, Verosika Mayday

Look. You're probably the only one he actually kept around after the whole incident with the circus and following him into his employment with Mammon.

You get to see him at his absolute worst, when he's struggling with Mammon, the abuse, the exploitation, you get a front-row seat to every breakdown and panic attack.

And he had the desire to keep you out of that life. Forever. So he'd never let you attend any performances or shows where Mammon was present.

You could see him at Ozzie's, see all the cool songs and tricks he could do, but other than that? He didn't want to risk Mammon scouting you as potential talent. He thinks he'd go insane if something ever happened to put you in the position he's in.

"But Fizz, why can't I ever see you at the Clown Pageant?"

"Y/N, it's... It's not a nice place. If it were, I'd let you, but... please. For me, don't argue with me. I don't... want you seeing what I do there."

Of course, reluctantly, you agree. If it's that important to him, he must be being truthful that there are things you'd just rather not see there.

But after Fizz quits? He shows you all the videos online of Ozzie protecting him. :)

Speaking of!! You get to meet and chill with Ozzie! A total gentleman towards both you and your big brother, and you can see the way Fizzarolli's face flushes whenever Ozzie holds his hand or makes a sweet compliment.

Honestly, Asmodeus is one of the few people who's been able to make your brother smile and laugh throughout the duration of his absolute misery.

And of course, it's important for Asmodeus to meet his future sister-in-law!

You've spent your entire life making him happy. And now that he's free, he can finally return the favor. :))

Verosika's sibling? I doubt you're not part of her posse, and therefore, famous alongside her and her clique. Both in Hell and on Earth.

She calls you "sis", "bro", or "sib", depending on what pronouns you use.

"Hey, sib! Coco and Apple and I are going shopping, wanna come? Last one in the car's a fucking virgin."

She's a pretty irresponsible big sister, honestly. She'll swear, make innuendos, and take you places you probably shouldn't be. But the second someone actually tries some shit on you, it's over. Those heels of hers are rather painful when embedded in someone's dick, after all.

You were with her through her breakup with Blitzø, and you, like Fizz's sibling, also got to see her at her worst. Baggy hoodies, runny mascara, ice cream, filthy hair, depression... The works. She never meant for you to see her like that. It was jarring, and she knows it, to see someone so confident and sweet become so broken and petty.

But on the plus side, she ended up giving you a ton of things because she wanted to try and salvage all the relationships she already had, with you, with her posse, hell, probably even with your guys' parents.

She's also super protective of you. As a succubus in Hell, she knows better than almost anyone else how touchy and unwelcomely handsy others can be with your kind. So she always makes sure to have some pepper spray on her, at the very least, plus teaching you the whole 'keys between the fingers' trick.

"Okay, so you stick each of these keys between your fingers... Yeah, like that! And then you punch 'im in the dick. And if it's a lady? Ditch the keys, purple nurple her."

It's honestly a bit eerie how well-versed she is, but hey, it's Hell, a girl's gotta protect herself somehow. And she'll be damned if her little sibling can't do it, either.

You have your spats, but deep down, the both of you love each other. Nothing could change that.

I hope you enjoy never sleeping, though, because damn, her karaoke nights last forever- At least she can sing, I guess-

#helluva boss x reader #verosika x reader #helluva boss verosika #verosika helluva boss #verosika mayday #helluva verosika #Verosika Helluva #hb verosika #fizzarolli #hb fizzarolli #helluva fizzarolli #fizzarolli helluva boss #helluva boss fizzarolli #fizzarolli x reader #helluva boss x you #helluva boss x y/n #helluva x reader #helluva boss #helluvaboss

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dangermousie · 5 months

Text

2023 End of Year Post - cdrama edition

Yes, we have a lot of December left, but I don't think anything else I want to check out will air before 2024 hits (it's cdrama so caveat is - you never know.)

This is only going to cover cdramas that aired in 2023; if I watched it but it was made in a different year, it's not on the list. This was a pretty good cdrama year, all in all.

DRAMAS WATCHED

(In order of liking from least to most as opposed to pure quality; I am including if I’ve seen enough to make up my mind; yes I realize that’s inaccurate, but that’s my list)

30 legend of twin flower - Not dignifying that drama with capital letters, as the only capital that should be associated with this is capital punishment - which is what watching this feels like.

29 Dominator of Martial Gods - sounds like a bdsm gay porn title. Would probably be better acted and written if it was.

28 Beauty of Resilience - you'd need a lot of said resilience to sit through this incoherent, barely acted mess. The thing that I remember the most other than my annoyance is all the jingly-jangly head gear on JJY. Perhaps they could have sold some of them and spent the money on a better script.

27 Divine Destiny - if you think you have too many brain cells and want to get rid of some, boy do I have a drama for you!

26 Wanru’s Journey - honestly it's probably tied with SEL - I mean it's worse but it has actors who are nowhere as well known and a fraction of SEL's budget. Still, this is a big fat nope. I will not say what I think of Aoi Rupeng's "acting" or I'd have to put money in the curse jar.

25 Snow Eagle Lord - Gulinazha's stone face, nonsense plot, terrible CGI. Take your pick as to why this is terrible.

24 Scent of Time - it was uneven but fun but then that ending was dumb enough to destroy the whole thing. Show me on the doll where common sense hurt you, makers!

23 Royal Rumors - Jeremy Tsui and Meng Ziyi are utterly wasted in this nothing trifle of a drama.

22 Legend of Anle - I had high expectations but alas. This is the drama version of color beige. There is nothing offensive about it but nothing good either. Mediocre actors are mediocre, good actors become mediocre, this is just a waste of our finite time on planet earth.

21 Romance on the Farm - it's not you, it's me in action. I can see why people would like this wholesome slice of farming family life, but it's tailored to trigger every one of my "nope" opinions.

20 Back from the Brink - if I were 12, it would be my favorite thing. I am not 12.

19 Journey of Chong Zi - objectively a terrible drama with plot holes the size of Mars and a leading lady whose face has apparently frozen when the wind changed. But I am a total sucker for the trope of upright shizun falling for his demonic disciple and going mental so here we are. Objectively, garbage, subjectively my precious!

18 Love you Seven Times - just call poor Ding Yuxi "Atlas," he carried this mess so hard.

17 Blooming Days - trashy dogblood harem fight fun throwback. It's not that great (and the fact that it was shredded doesn't help) but it's probably the last gasp of that genre for the foreseeable future, so I am grading on a curve.

16 The Starry Love - a fun fantasy where the secondary OTP stole the thunder but overall a really solid fantasy xianxia romance.

15 The Longest Promise - it could have been better - the secondaries were unbearable and there was too much of them and what they did with Alen Fang's character still gives me rage fits, but the main couple was impeccable and lovely and I rooted so hard for them.

14 Chang Feng Du/Destined - visually gorgeous, solidly acted, impeccable first half. Bland as hell second half. Win some, lose some.

13 Circle of Love - this drama is a nonsense trash heap on fire. After a typhoon hit it. It was also the most entertaining, addicting drama on this whole list.

12 Hidden Love - the sole modern on this list, this story has barely any plot but it made me care about the young, decent lovers so hard.

11 Choice Husband - starts out wacky, continues with angst and blood and happy ending. I loved it, but I've always had a soft spot for melo and schemers turning devoted.

10 Pledge of Allegiance - bromance, super solid acting, visuals, a really dark take on officials and the world. Insanely underrated.

9 Provoke - a truly fun Republican revenge and love tale, showing that short format can be wonderful.

8 Gone with the Rain - some of the secondary characters are rage-inducing (hi there, cardboard boy!) but the scheming, ruthless, vulgar FL is amazing and her slowburn with her age gap general who is delighted by her out-there-ness is great!

7 Wonderland of Love - Fei Wo Si Cun goes wholesome and the result is surprisingly entertaining. Battle couple, glorious visuals, a fast paced plot. It's the first Xu Kai drama I enjoyed in years (and he plays a rare cdrama ML it would be pretty neat to pair up with in rl.)

6 My Journey to You - that ending is infuriating (and I am OK with open endings if done properly) but what a visual feast, probably the most gloriously shot drama on this list, and that's a tough competition. Also it packs a hell of a lot of couples and familial and adversarial relationships into its slim running time; assassin lady won over by a gentle man is my favorite trope and so this is extra great.

5. Till the End of the Moon - the ending is a rage-inducing disaster for me, but this drama was the most incredibly emotionally intense, visually eye popping experience. It was deeply flawed but when it was amazing, it was like nothing else in its visuals, its characters and its narratives. It took insane risks; some paid off and some did not, but it was glorious.

4. Story of Kunning Palace - I don't often care for reverse harem stories but this one was such fun - the main OTP was glorious (strong FL, unhinged ML) but honestly everything about this was just so excellently done.

3. The Ingenious One - the most adult drama on this list. Smart protagonists, intelligent plot, emotions that felt true, this is a revenge and a mystery and found family and goes into so many directions you do not expect (Su Mengyu's PTSD after his first kill - that is something you never see in dramas, definitely not prolonged and profound - not like this.) If I was to say which drama was objectively the best on this list, as opposed to favorite, it would be this.

1 (tie) Lost You Forever 1 - this is an exquisite emotional jewel of a story about damaged people moving forward, with damage always present - their past informs their present and always will. The narrative about Xiao Yao and three very different men in her life makes me think that it's an equivalent of a neutron bomb going off right before the main narrative starts and now we are watching the survivors wander in the wreckage. This is very high fantasy setting but it's one of the most emotionally human narratives out there.

1 A Journey to Love - everything I ever wanted - assassins, ride or die adult OTP with genuine believable conflicts, great and complex secondaries, beautiful fights. Oh, and yeah Liu Shi Shi domming the hell out of every man in a ten mile radius, as she should.

FAVORITE DRAMA

It's a tie between Lost You Forever Part 1 and A Journey to Love. LYF1 is a bona fide art piece but it's only part 1 and who knows if part 2 will be any good (seeing the huge ep number cut, I have my doubts) and so it's incomplete. AJTL is an old school wuxia romance with incredibly competent, adult people in love and great cast of secondaries. I can't pick.

WORST DRAMA

romance of twin flower - this is a drama that should not exist. If I could hex everyone involved with it, I would. It's a terrible, stupid, shrill, badly acted drama to start with, but where it really is catapulted into stratosphere of horror is that is took my very favorite non-danmei web novel of all time, a smart and complicated tale with incredible protagonists and turned it into that barftastic abomination. Peng Xiao Ran kept making horrible drama after horrible drama but I kept giving her a chance because of Goodbye My Princess but after this disaster, I've had to accept GMP was a fluke and she is on my "if she's in it, I am out” list. Ding Yuxi is not that far yet (his performance in Seven Lifetimes was the one thing carrying that mess afloat) but he's on freaking thin ice. Anyway, I like to pretend this drama does not exist.

FAVORITE MALE CHARACTER

It was hard because there were so many I loved this year - Deng Wei's traumatized, gentle Seventeen from LYF1 (if someone told me I'd swoon and weep for a character played by Deng Wei, I'd have told them to examine their brains asap), Liu Yuning's incredibly capable, deadly, contained Ning Yuanzhou from AJTL, Zhang Linghe's unhinged Xie Wei from SoKP, Chen Xiao's schemer with a heart Yun Xiang from TIO.

But ultimately, it couldn't be anyone else but Luo Yunxi as Tantai Jin/Demon God/Ming Ye/Cang Jiumin in Till the End of the Moon. He was everything - a demon, a saint, a martyr, a monster, a tormented abuse victim, a savior, joyful, unhinged, smart, pitiable. It was the cdrama performance of the year for me. Luo Yunxi even in a mediocre role is impressive but in a complex (series of) role(s) designed for his strengths, he is a force of nature.

FAVORITE FEMALE CHARACTER

Xiao Yao (Lost You Forever Part 1). Once again, there were runner ups - Bai Lu's smart a little evil FL in Kunning, the gloriously unhinged assassin domme Liu Shi Shi in AJTL, Esther Yu's assassin longing for a different life in MJTY etc etc etc. But Xiao Yao's damaged, difficult, very self-aware woman stole my heart. I was skeptical going in because I haven't enjoyed a Yang Zi performance in a long time, but she was the wounded beating soul of this incredible drama.

NEEDS TO BE MURDERED

Where do we start? How about all of Seventeen's (LYF1) monster family? His brother, who tortured him for years physically and emotionally to such a degree his body is a horror map and his personality is permanently altered because "mommy liked you better." Psycho mother who created a situation where the kids were going to turn on each other and "let's get my grandson raped" grandma. Where is a well-placed meteorite when you need one.

FAVORITE SHIP

Xiao Yao/Seventeen, LYF1. Yes, a ship of characters played by Yang Zi and Deng Wei is my favorite. Leave me alone, I am on my tenth helping of crow already. They are both incredibly damaged, barely functioning survivors who find what they need in the other - he finds a savior and someone who sees him as a man and rebuilds himself around her and she finds someone who will always put her first and only, and subsume himself in her. Is it healthy? No. Does it make sense for them and is it making them slowly functional? Yes.

Runner up: Ren Ruyi/Ning Yuanzhou, AJTL - two adults, so competent, so chemistry full. She has so much damage and so little normalcy but is so strong and he is oddly gentle (in between murders) and incredibly self-reflective. They are each other's mirrors and I love them.

FAVORITE SECONDARY OTP

Su Mingyu/Ke Menglan, The Ingenious One - the idealistic merchant who wants to join jianghu until he sees its horrors firsthand and a slave entertainer who wants security but decides she wants him more. They are gorgeous and glorious and wholesome and I adore them.

Runner up: Liu Gong Quan/Ming Zhu, The Ingenious One - that drama was a shippy gift, especially impressive considering it wasn't even romance-centric. He's the officer who has to bring down her treasonous father but loves her. Delicious.

Another runner up is Chao Feng/Qian Kui, the angelic good girl and the scheming bad boy in The Starry Love. They stole the drama from the main OTP for me.

NOTP

Scent of Time endgame. What the hell was even that. It made NO sense.

FAVORITE SCENE

So many good scenes this year - Tantai Jin taking apart Li Susu in prison in TTEOTM, the OTP fighting in perfect sync and insane rhythm in the gorge battle in AJTL, Chen Ruoxuan's character stopping the execution in Pledge, Yan Lin's coming of age in Kunning, the poison/antidote "gamble" in MJTY, Cang Xuan detoxing in LYF1. But I think ultimately, me being who I am, my favorite scene is Xiao Yao kissing Seventeen's damaged, scarred knee to show he is in no way inferior for her. AAAAA!

In terms of pure jaw dropping visuals tho nothing will ever beat Ming Ye’s battle against the Devil God in TTEOTM.

BIGGEST CRUSH

Ning Yuanzhou, AJTL. He's sexy as hell (that height, that way he moves in battle) but he's also so incredibly competent, so adult, so self-reflective and so attracted to a woman for her strength. He also gets whumped on the reg. Anyway, my hormones are ready.

BEST SCENE STEALER CHARACTER

Gong Yuanzhi (My Journey to You) - I loved the unhinged, brocon poison boy. He was everything. Also Yan Lin (Kunning) - talk about sunshine; I totally got why all these people felt they needed to save him.

NEEDS A SEQUEL

My Journey to You - what the HELL was that ending?

NEEDS SCISSORS TAKEN TO IT

legend of twin flower - that is, stab it with scissors like it stabbed the novel until it's dead.

TOO MANY SCISSORS TAKEN TO IT

Till the End of the Moon - they clearly cut stuff to fit into the new regs about runtime and it made the last 1/5 rather abrupt. Gimme!

TROPE THAT NEEDS TO DIE

The emperor cannot be irredeemable. WTF, China, you are a communist country!

FAVORITE TROPE WE’VE SEEN A LOT OF

This is the year of a ML who yearns to be dommed by his FL. Long may it continue.

BIGGEST DISAPPOINTMENT

The Legend of Anle - the novel had a great plot, the cast were all actors I either enjoy a lot or somewhat and we got - whatever that soggy piece of wonderbread toast was.

BIGGEST GOOD SURPRISE

LYF1 - I only checked out to mock because nobody could explain the story to me and nobody in the cast did anything I like either ever or in years. And then I fell utterly and completely in love and had to eat so much delicious crow.

2023 DRAMAS I HAVEN’T SEEN THAT I MOST WANT TO WATCH

Ancient Love Song is the only one on that list. It looks really good, I just need to brace myself.

BEST NON-2023 DRAMA I’VE WATCHED IN 2023

The Imperial Doctoress - best slowburn and pining and glorious character development and adult leads.

MOST ANTICIPATED

Anticipating any nonaired cdrama is a mug's game but if they air, I will definitely check out all the Fox Matchmaker dramas, LYF2, JoL2 and The Last Immortal. If Prisoner of Beauty ever is allowed out of the vault (dubious), it goes on the list too.

#cdrama #lost you forever #a journey to love #till the end of the moon #my journey to you #choice husband #provoke #the starry love #the ingenious one #wonderland of love #story of kunning palace #gone with the rain

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rhiaghostriley · 5 days

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MDNI - Ghost × reader - toxic relationship

The loud thud resonating in the mess hall draws all the attention on it, including yours. As you turn your head toward the noise to see what caused it, you freeze on the spot : Lieutenant Simon Riley, looking at you with furious eyes, his hand deeply buried in the plywood next to his head. Looking at you, and the guy you are openly flirting with.

Dammit.

Before you can even think about moving, he’s gone. But you know you will hear about him soon enough.

Fuck it, after all. You were doing nothing wrong. You were not together anymore. And it was his call, this time. This hundredth time… You don’t even remember how it started, to be honest. In the beginning, he was the stern, cold, forever masked Lieutenant of Task Force 141, and you were nothing more than one of the new recruits. But you made a joke during a meeting, and it made him smile, a rare occurrence for him. He got intrigued, wanted to know more about you. And from a few drinks at the nearest bar with the team, to asking him his opinion about the outfit you should wear, you’ve grown closer. And you’ve grown to know the man under the mask. With all his good and his bad sides. A lot of bad sides. But red flags are just flags when you look at it through pink glasses, right ? And you would have managed to stay away from him if the man wasn’t able to make you cum just by looking at you. But God, in his infinite cruelty, gave him the power over your body and your feelings. So here you are, wondering whether you should go after him or not, even when you know it will end badly. And remembering the first kiss…

“Ya gonna be late for meeting.” A husky voice behind you, one which can belong to only one person, especially with that thick British accent.

You smiled, blowing out some smoke from your cigarette. “Gonna report me, Lt ?”

“Don’t give a fucking shit.” He sat beside you on the bench. “Ya too young to smoke that much.”

You giggled, looking at the cigarette between your fingers, then held it out to him. “Just have to ask, if you want one.”

He chuckled, taking the cigarette from your hand. “Ya know me, I don’t ask. I take.”

“The only right way to live.” You chuckled back.

You stayed a few minutes silent, until his gravely voice speaks again. “Gonna tell me what’s wrong, or I’ll have to get it out of ya ?”

You sighed. No need to pretend, he knew. He always knew. You gave a sad smile, and trying to sound playful you said “Been dumped. Again.”

He chuckled. “Ya gonna have to stop dating boys, and try men, little one. Ya’re too much to handle for these kids. Ya need someone who can handle himself. And you.”

Your breath caught in your throat and you chuckled. “Like you ?”

These two words. The words you should never have said. The words that made your life heaven on earth and a living hell at the same time. Because next thing you knew, you were sitting on his lap, kissing him ravenously, his lips demanding, his hands wandering, making your skin tingle and your insides clench. He was proving you that indeed, he was the kind of man taking without asking, and you let him.

From then, it all went spiraling. Addicted to his touch, repulsed by his toxic demeanor, when he was pulling, you were pushing. And when he was the one pushing, you were crawling back to him like a lost puppy. He hated that he needed you, loved that you needed him. You hated that he made you lose all common sense, and loved every second spent naked against him. The damn man did know how to get under your skin as much as under your sheets.

Without realizing, you are walking around base, trying to spot him everywhere you look. Not that you feel bad for what you did, but you’d rather find him than run into him at the least expected moment and let him have the upper hand. The hole in the wall of the mess hall was enough of a proof that he was pissed, and he was like a bottle of coke that you shook too much. You would never know when it would explode, but it would. But he was nowhere to be found, and as your steps start to lead you back to your quarters, you feel your eyes water in apprehension. First for you, and then for him. For all you know he could be either in his quarters, letting out some steam on video games, or in a bar, trying to put up a fight with any bloke who would look at him in a way he wouldn’t find acceptable.

But there is also sadness in your heart. Because as much as you want to keep him away from you, you can’t. And you dread the day your ways will split for good. But this day hasn’t come yet…

As you enter your room, slamming the door shut behind you, before you have time to turn the light switch on, you feel a hand wrap on your throat and pin you against the wall. In a matter of seconds you try to comprehend what is happening, and not to freak out. But then, things get crystal clear. From the gloved hand around your throat, to the smell of Bourbon and tobacco hitting your nostrils, now you know.

“Think ya can replace me so easily, little one ?” The grip on your throat is not tight, barely uncomfortable, just strong enough to keep you still. It’s not meant to hurt you, just to remind you who is in charge.

“Ghost, let me go.” Your breath is a little uneven, your voice trembling.

“Now why would I ?” He grunts. He is still angry. “We have a few things to talk about before. Who is he ?”

“No one.” You sigh. You know it won’t be enough. “Name’s James. I don’t know more about him. It was the first time we talked.”

His grip loosens a bit, but not completely. He presses his forehead against your temple and inhale deeply, taking in your scent. “Why would you talk to him ?”

Your breath shortens a bit, because you know that whatever your answer might be, it wouldn’t be good enough for him. And the worst part is that there was no answer, you were just making small talk while lining up at the mess hall for lunch. But still you have to answer something. “We are planned on a mission together next week. We were just trying to get to know each other better. That’s it.”

“That’s it ?” He growled, then chuckle. “That’s it.”

After a few more seconds he finally lets go of you, and turns around, walking toward the nightstand where a half-empty bottle of whiskey is waiting. He takes a long swig, then shakes his head. “It’s the first time I see you talking to another guy. I don’t like it.”

You stand against the wall, not wanting to come closer, your arms crossed over your chest. “Yeah, I got the hint when you punched the wall.”

He scowls. “Don’t go there. It was the wall or his face. Better the wall, right ?” He takes another swig.

You look away, shaking your head. “I don’t understand. You left. Why do you mind ?”

He chuckles bitterly and sit on the edge of the bed, taking a sip of whiskey again. “That’s a hell of a good question.” He rubs his face with one hand, the bottle dangling from his other hand as his elbow rests on his knee. “I have no fucking clue. Ya’re my fucking Kryptonite.”

You sigh, feeling your eyes well up. “No, not Kryptonite. You’re like heroin. You feel like heaven when you’re inside me, but when you’re not I miss you as much as I hate you.”

He growls. “Then find a damn cure. Your own version of methadone, I don’t give a fuck. Stay. Away. From me.”

You let out a bitter chuckle without looking at him. “I tried. You punched a wall, remember ?”

He scowls, his voice raising. “Not a cure that means making fun of me in front of the whole goddamn base !”

You raise your voice to match his. Not something you’re used to do, but today you’re too angry. Today, it reached a new level of toxicity. And you, as well, can play dirty. “Oh, so you’re okay with me being fucked, but not by another soldier ?”

He yells even louder. He needs to have the upper hand, to show that he is more, in every way. “Ya want to play the base’s slut ? Get laid by every fuckin’ soldier around ? Fine, be my guest ! I won’t stop ya ! But don’t come back crying like you always do !”

That stings. More than it should. Because that’s not what you want. But god are you able to, even if just to piss him off a little bit more. “And what, you’re going to punch another wall ? Plus, I wouldn’t come back if you were strong enough to say no, for once !”

You knew. You knew it wasn’t a good idea to use the words “not strong enough” when talking to him. And as the bottle of whiskey crashes on the wall right next to your head, you could only think that you should have known better…

You’re both frozen. Him in anger, you in shock. Your body starts to tremble as more tears runs down your cheeks, and you stare at him, through him, eyes wide and face strained.

He, on the other side, stares back at you, chest heaving with every ragged breath he takes, anger creeping in his mind like poison as he tries to convince himself that it is your fault and not his. As he tries to persuade his scarred mind that he is not a violent guy, that he is not like his father, that it was an accident.

He takes a deep, steadying breath, taking a shy step closer to you. Then another. Then a third one, closing the distance between you two. Slowly, like dealing with a scared animal, he raises a hand to your face, putting it on your cheek, tilting his head as he whispers “I am sorry.”

And as you burst into tears, his other hand reaches for your other cheek, cradling your head in his hands, burying your face in his chest. “Ya know I would never hurt ya.”

But the truth is that he does. Every goddamn day. When he looks at you, when he touches you, when he ignores you. It hurts. But the brain is a wicked machine, and you like it rough.

He presses his lips against your forehead, whispering sweet nothings as he tries to calm you down. How beautiful you are, how soft you feel against him, like a snake trying to convince you to bite the apple, he sneaks into your brain, telling you what you need to hear.

His lips leave a trail of soft kisses from your forehead to your temple, then down to your cheek. Your jaw clenches, knowing what comes next, trying to gather the strength to say no. Not because you don’t want to. Quite the opposite.

When his mouth finds yours, awaking the familiar warmth in your chest, you try. You really try. But it comes out barely above a whisper. “Ghost, no, don’t.”

But he doesn’t listen. He doesn’t ask, he takes. He shuts you up with a kiss, his lips soft and tender at first, but quickly turning more demanding, more hungry. More desperate. And you can’t help but give it back.

With a sharp intake of breath, he buries his hands in your hair, grabbing a fistful of it to hold you still as his tongue presses against your lips, demanding entrance. Your lips part and your tongue reaches his, addicted to the bittersweet taste of bourbon and the lingering scent of smoke.

His body pins you against the wall, giving you no other choice than to put your hands on his waist, his chest pressed against yours, his hips pushing. You can feel how turned on he is, the bulge in his pants rubbing on your lower stomach, making you gasp. And he takes it as a green light.

His hands move from your hair to your chest, his touch rough when he grabs your breasts through the thin fabric of your top, eliciting a small whimper from you. It doesn’t stop him though. He knows you like it that way, despite you trying to pretend otherwise the first time. That is certainly why you and him were a match made in hell. You like when it hurts and he doesn’t know how to be soft.

Before you have time to say anything, his hands are under your top, tugging at your bra to try and move it down. His lips haven’t left yours still, his tongue fighting yours for dominance in your mouth, even if you know he will win.

His fingers find your nipples, pinching them hardly, sending a jolt from your breasts to your cunt. When you moan softly, you can’t feel him grin against your lips. “That’s it, baby girl. Let yourself go.”

As one of his hands keep working on your breast, the other moves down toward the buckle of your belt, calloused fingers grazing the soft skin of your belly, making you shiver. You know what comes next, and the heat between your thighs forbid you to act like you don’t want it.

He works fast on your belt and the buttons of your jeans, his hand already slipping in your panties, eager to touch you. He is neither slow, nor soft, but you don’t mind. All the pent-up tension from the last hours needs to be released, for you as much as for him.

When his fingers reach your pussy, tracing your slit to find your entrance, he stops kissing you, keeping his lips glued to yours, and groan. “Fuck, so fucking wet already. You like me angry, angel. Good to know.”

Inside, you want to scream, the wave of feelings coming at his words overwhelming. Anger. Pain. Self-loathing. Because he is right. He might be a walking red flag, but your red flag is that you like it. But as overwhelmed as you feel, it’s not enough to mutter the craving you feel for more of his touch. And all you can do in response is to let out a soft moan as he slides a finger into you, his thumb rubbing your already throbbing clit in expert circles.

His voice rings in your ear like poisoned honey, dripping from his lips right into your brain. “Come on little one, talk to me, use your words. Ya want more ?”

All you can do is nod, and whimper a small “yes”, because of course you want more.

He chuckles, nibbling at your earlobe as he slips a second finger into you, shutting your brain out. You find yourself grinding your pussy in his palm, feeling the too well known sensation of your orgasm building in the pit of your stomach. Damn him for knowing so well how to play your body like a violin.

He is all over you. His lips kissing the supple skin of your neck where it meets your shoulder because he knows it is your favorite spot. His left hand still pinching and rolling your nipple because he knows it helps the tension building faster. And his right hand in your panties, fingers pulling in and out of your pussy at the rhythm of your moans flattering his ears. He loves it. He needs it. He picks up the pace of his fingers, going harder and deeper, with only purpose to make you cum. And it works.

You keep grinding against his palm, your moans getting louder by the second. “Fuck, Ghost… Don’t stop.”

You can hear the smirk in his voice as he whispers in your ear “I don’t intend to, baby girl. Do me a favor, make it loud.”

And you comply. Not that you could help it, anyway. When your pussy starts to clench around his fingers and you keep moaning his name louder, he moans as well, still rubbing his cock on your lower stomach, needing the friction to help him holding back. He revels in the feeling of making you break so easily, feels powerful when you moan his name without being able to stop, relishes knowing that you still want more. “That’s my good girl.”, he praises softly.

But the softness doesn’t last long, and before you have time to get back from your high, the hand that was delightfully torturing your nipples is now unbuckling his own belt and buttons, letting his jeans fall down to his ankles. He steps out of the pile of clothes, and the same treatment is given to yours. In one swift motion, he picks you up, wrapping your legs around his waist, pinning you against the wall, rubbing his cock against your slit like his life depends on it. He doesn’t care that you just cummed and that your body is too sensitive still. He is starving. And you’re the only meal he wants.

With a growl coming from deep inside his chest, still carrying you, he takes a few steps back and sit on the edge of the bed with you still in his lap. His hands let go of you, just enough time to remove your top and his. He needs to feel your skin against his.

Without warning, he grips your hips and moves you down on him, just enough to let the first inches of his cock slide inside you. And you don’t even try to protest, because you want it too. You need him to fill you up, to stretch you out. You need him deep inside you so you can feel that for a few minutes you two make one.

When your eyes roll back in your head he lets out a groan. “Easy, little one. Ya’re going to take it all like the good fucking girl you are, but I don’t want to hurt ya. I told ya, I’d never.”

Still, he bites down on his lip, the effort of holding back from pounding into you already taking a lot from him. He starts to move slowly, giving you a few more inches of his dick with each thrust, letting you adjust and at the same time craving for more. His grip tight on your hips, dirty reminder of who is in control, he keeps moving, nice and slow, until he is buried into you to the hilt. “Fuck baby girl, you feel too good for my own sake.”

There it is, the hint of desperation in his voice, the only sign he would give you that he needs you as much as you need him. Only when he is deep inside you, body and soul.

When he feels you relax a little around him, his left hand wraps around your waist, his right hand reaches for your throat. Not too tight, just enough to control you. He uses it to settle the pace, his face buried in your hair as he takes in your scent. Your moans are like music to his ears, he is not far from cumming already. “Come on, little one. Ride me. Ride me hard.”

Your grip is tight on his shoulders, holding on for dear life as you move your hips up and down. Every move you make makes you whimper and moan, your eyes closed tight in pleasure, a thin veil of sweat covering your skin.

His grip on your throat tightens a little. “Look at me. Don’t you dare close your eyes. Look at me when I fuck you senseless.”

His grip not loosening, he uses it to make you move faster, making you take him deeper, seeking for both your and his release. He needs to make you cum again, it’s the proof that he has a total control over your body.

Your jaw hangs open in a silent gasp and you open your eyes to look at him, your moans turning into cries of pleasure as he keeps pounding into you faster. His gaze never wavers from yours when he starts to groan with each erratic breath he takes. “Come on, angel. Cum for me. I know your close. Cum for me again.”

And as if your body was listening to him more than to you, a second orgasm hits you like a freight train, making you squirm and writhe in his grip.

“That’s it, baby girl. Let it out, I want to hear ya fucking scream my name.” He keeps pounding, milking you out of your pleasure, and cumming right after you. “Fuck, you’re going to be the death of me, ya know that. I. Fucking. Hate ya.” That’s the last words you hear before he slams into you one last time with a loud groan, and stops moving.

His grip on your throat loosens, his hand moving to the back of your head, bringing you close to him and burying your face in his neck. He stays silent a few minutes, his hand stroking his hair. And your eyes fill with tears, knowing damn well what’s coming.

He has sobered up. Still stroking your hair, he whispers in your hear. “We have to stop it, love. We’re just hurting each other, and I hate hurting you.”

His body tenses as he feels your tears in his neck. He takes a deep, steadying breath. Not out of anger this time. Out of desperation and pain. He keeps whispering. “You deserve the world, and I leave nothing but chaos in my wake.”

He pulls you away, just enough to look into your eyes. He lays on the bed, keeping you in his lap, his arms around you like a vice as you rest your head on his chest. “You were right earlier. I am not strong enough to say no. You will have to be strong for us.”

He pauses as he feels his voice trembling. He hates being weak, but he knows that if there is one person in the world he can allow himself to be weak with, it’s you. “I hate that I have to ask you that, but you have to stay away from me. I love you too much to keep destroying you.”

And your grip on him tightens as tears keep straining your face. Because you know damn well that you will never be able to stop coming back.

#simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley call of duty #lieutenant simon riley #simon riley fanfic #simon riley x you

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ash5monster01 · 6 months

Text

Learning to Love Part 1

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x FemReader!PlusSize

Warnings: 18+, langauge, angst, fluff, mentions of bullying, body image issues, fat shaming, fake relationship, eventual smut, minor enemies to lovers trope.

Summary: It's not uncommon for you to be shamed for your size, it is however uncommon to be told that no one would ever date you because of it. Rafe on the other hand is used to being called a jerk, that is until he is accused of seeing people for only what's on the surface. It's purely coicidental you two meet right after these accusations are thrown your way. So even though you two don't know each other, and probably never would've looked the others way before this, now you're both going to prove a point. It's simple really, prove others wrong and don't fall in love. Easier said than done.

word count: 3.2k

Intro ←→ Part 2

Masterlist

It’s not until you’re opening the bar the next day you finally receive a text from your fake boyfriend. You had spent most of the night confused how this had all happened. You blamed it on how worked up you were after the beach, letting yourself get carried away. You couldn’t back out now, you had signed a contract. Hell it might be on a napkin but it was right there, evidence that you had made an agreement with a perfect stranger and now had no way out. A part of you wanted to do this too. Prove something to others you still weren’t sure of yourself. You just prayed you wouldn’t get too attached.

unknown number

You wanted to keep that same confidence you had yesterday. A coolness that you had maintained while getting into a fake relationship. Thing was your heart was already starting to thump over him texting you. You weren’t strong enough for this, you knew you would fold in seconds. Your only priority now was making sure he didn't know that about you. That was why you had limited PDA because you knew one touch from him would be your weakness. You weren't blind, he was gorgeous. He had every right to be cocky and you had no right to be. You save his number anyway despite desperately wanting to block it and pretend none of this happened.

Rafe

You were screwed. Totally and utterly screwed. You had googled him, you weren't no fool. All it did was intimidate you even more. CEO of one of the largest companies in the area, articles about his dead Dad and all the trouble he had gotten into when he was younger. He was tough, cold, and you were anything but. Now you had to act like you loved him. Someone who had become cold towards the world and you who still was on somewhat good terms with it had to learn to love him. Well fake love him.

"What's with the look?" your friend Mila asks. You look to her from across the bar where she dumps ice to prepare for the long shift ahead of you both. Mila was one of the few people in this world you had known all your life and had always stuck by your side. She was the only oen to ever really tell people off when they were mean to you. Which was half the reason you always kept her around. Even now as roomates and your employee. She would always take care of you and you would always take care of her.

"A boy" you find yourself saying. She is the last person on earth you would want to admit this mistake to but you realize you can also get her advice without having to tell the full truth.

"A boy, do I know this boy?" it's the soft shake of your head that has her abandoning the ice buckets and walking over to face you. You never talked about boys so whatever this was deseved her undivided attention.

"No, I met him here yesterday" you don't miss the way her hands fall on her hips instantly, a stern look coming your way.

"Want to explain why you were here on your day off?" Mila didn't like how you overworked yourself. You were the owner, she was the manager, you didn't have to do any of the work that you did around here. So when she catches you putting in time when you deserve a much needed break she's the first one ready to fight you.

"I came for a drink, I promise I didn't step behind the bar once" you say raising your hands in defense. She studies you for a moment to make sure you're telling the truth before removing her hands from her hips and leaning forward.

"So you met a boy while getting a drink yesterday?" she questions and you nod. She pushes her curly brunette hair back from her face and grabs the hair tie on her wrist and secures it all behind her head while awaiting your answer.

"Yes and he gave me his number" as her arms drop back down to her sides her dough eyes widen in surprise. She knew you deserved the world but she also knew how people treated you. She knows because they're the same people she had been shoving on the playground as kids and flipping off in public as adults.

"Have you texted him?" she asks, trying to not act to excited on your behalf. She knows you want to be cool and collected about this. To not get your hopes up because you're prepared for the worst. You always are.

"He actually just texted me" she nods, waiting for you to give more about how you are feeling so she can determine whether to be excited or worried for you. "He is extremely intimidating"

"Are you gonna go on a date with him?" she asks as she pushes up the sleeves of her shirt, dark amber skin on display. It reminds you of how you always wanted to be her growing up. Perfect body, perfect face, the prettiest smile. Boys always turned their heads when they saw her and when they saw you they would turn back away. Mila was a beautiful light skinned Goddess and you were just you. Plain jane.

"I might, I just don't want to get attached" she didn't have to ask to know this and you both don't miss the way your phone dings again.

Rafe

The text has your heat doubling in speed. Mila watches you with concentration, Randy now joining you btoh behind to bar to finish the job Mila had started. She waits patiently like always, waiting to see if you'll tell her what he just said. She really wants to rip the phone from your hand and read for herself but she knows you better than anyone. This needs to be just for you right now and as long as she knows you won't get hurt she is okay with it.

"He wants to have dinner" you speak after a beat and before she can say anything Randy butts in while polishing the crytal glasses at the other end of the bar.

"Pretty boy from yesterday?" Randy's comment has Mila raising her eyebrows and looking back at you.

"You never said he was a pretty boy" you don't have to answer before Randy does.

"Yeah the dude was hot. I'm straight but if he asked me out I would say yes in an instant" this has Mila turning towards you with a questioning look. You know she has hundreds of things running through her head that she wants to say but she is nearly bursting with excitment and you don't want to hold out on her.

"This is not in a mean way but was he genuine? Not like the guys I have to kick the shit out of?" she asks above everything else and again you are cut off by Randy.

"Based on the way he was devouring her with his eyes I'd say he was genuine. When she leaned over the bar I thought he was going to take a bite out of her ass" Randy says which causes Mila to snort and you to glare at him.

"I can answer these questions myself Randy and need I remind you who can change the status of your employment in a second?" you tell him, arms crossing over you chest and he chuckles as he set's the last of the clean glasses down on the bar top.

"I'm just saying, about time someone noticed how cool you are" you roll your eyes even though your heart soars over how genuine he is. You could never fire Randy, he was one of your best bartenders and over the years a close friend.

"Well are you gonna go?" Mila interrupts and you look at her confused before you realize what she is asking. It's then your phone dings with a new message again.

Rafe

Sighing you look up at two of your closest and dearest friends before droppign back down to the message on your phone. They don't know it isn't genuine, that both you and pretty boy are aware of how fake this relationship is, and is only meant for personal gain but you don't want to disappoint them. So you force a smile on your face and look to them both hoping they can't read the lies all over it. "I guess I’m going to dinner"

"Yes!' the pair cheers before chest bumping each other and you roll your eyes before typing a response back to Rafe.

Rafe

Shaking your head you realize exactly what kind of trouble you're in. You no longer have to lie to yourself about your feelings towards the boys now you had to lie to everyone else that's important in your life. You just prayed in wouldn’t blow up in your face.

You were still praying when the clock hit seven o’clock on the dot. There was no hiding the fact you had just worked a whole shift so you stopped yourself from any attempts at looking presentable. You didn’t have much time anyway since Rafe walked through the door right on time. When Mila realized that he was the boy her jaw dropped, which had you blushing a deep red. You tried to get your face back to normal before Rafe stood in front of you, a grey suit draped across his form, looking handsome as ever. Even with his hair falling onto his forehead he was still just as gorgeous.

“You promised nothing fancy” you tell him before he can say anything and he grins, hand reaching for your own.

“I just left work doll, I’ll change into a trash bag if you need me too” sighing you place your hand in his anyway and allow him to guide you out from behind the bar.

“Text me if you need anything guys” you call out to Mila and Randy who have more drink orders than they can keep up with.

“Text us if you need anything” Mila said in a suggestive way and you shook your head while throwing your purse over the shoulder of your free arm. You tried to act like his hand locked in your own didn’t make you as nervous as it did. This was fake, all show. You could do this.

You’re met with one of the nicest trucks you’ve ever seen still running outside. He opens the door and helps you climb inside before jogging to the other side. The smile he sends your way is a knees weak type of smile. You just know how many girls probably melted for that and a part of you feels bad for him. That he never could actually love someone the way he wanted because of material things. You knew what it was like to be on the receiving end of that. That’s why you were doing this, for both you and him.

“I figured we could eat at my place, take that for nothing fancy” he says as he pulls out onto the road.

“Is this the part where I find out you’re an axe murderer and fake dating is how you lure people in?” you question, heart racing over the idea of already being alone in his apartment with him. You don’t miss the way his hands tighten on the steering wheel but he still sends a smile your way.

“Not an axe murderer. I just want to get to know you, get our story straight” and you nod as he finally reaches a condo building. You wish you had known how rich he was before agreeing to fake date him. Yeah you owned a bar but that didn’t mean you were racking in big bucks. You still had a roommate after all. “Plus I’m a good cook”

“Poison, I knew it” you tease and he genuinely laughs before shaking his head and getting out the truck. You don’t miss the annoyed look he gives you when you pop open your door before he can. He helps you down anyway before guiding you inside.

You’re practically on the top floor by the time you get there. When he opens the door to his apartment it looks as if you could fit three of your own in it. You try to not let this intimidate you, the space still practically open. You can spot his bed in the corner and you quickly push away the thoughts of him sleeping in it every night. The kinds of girls he might bring back to it. Girls who would never ever look like you. You an exception just to prove a point because the truth was Rafe Cameron would never date a girl like you for real.

“I’m gonna change, feel free to make yourself at home” he tears your attention away from the bed and you nod as he starts walking towards his room. You realize this open concept leaves you both vulnerable to eachother so you choose the living room chair that has its back towards his bedroom. Distracting yourself you pull your phone out just to see a text from Mila.

Mila 💜

You can’t help but laugh lightly at the message on your phone which is when Rafe returns to the room now clad in grey sweats and white T-shirt that strained across his pecs perfectly. You hated him. He knew exactly what he was doing putting that outfit on. “Something funny?”

“Just my friend Mila, when I told her I was going out with you I guess she didn’t really expect you” he snorts as he sits on the couch kiddie corner to your own seat. You don’t miss the way he spreads his legs apart and gets comfy as if he hasn’t sat all day.

“I assume that was the girl behind the bar?” he says and you nod, shoving your phone back into your pocket. “So we’re not telling anyone then?”

“I guess not, I was too embarrassed to tell my friends it wasn’t real” you tell him and he nods before sitting up.

“It’s better that way anyway, less chance of getting caught” he says and you agree. If anyone found out you’d be mortified and you’re sure Rafe would be too.

“I told them we met at the bar, so if you tell your friends we should probably stick to that story” you tell him and he nods, hating that this felt awkward.

“That bar, you have a waitress. Red head, green eyes” and you hate the way your heart thumps in your chest. You had liked so many boys your whole life and every time you had been looked over for someone else, one of your friends. You hated that it was happening now with your own fake boyfriend.

“Callie, yeah. She’s a sweetheart” you nod as normal as you can but you couldn’t even hold a candle to that girls beauty. She’s 20, skinny, beautiful.

“Can you apologize to her for me? My friends were assholes the other day and I know she over heard them. I’ve felt guilty about it since” Callie had told you about this today. Two assholes saying she was unattractive. You remembered thinking if they found her unattractive imagine what they thought of you. Now knowing Rafe was at that table you felt even more nervous about this agreement between you two.

“Yeah, I’ll tell her” you agree with a forced smile and he nods before standing up.

“Well, let’s get cooking” he says with a clap of his hands and you give him a confused look.

“I agreed to dinner, not cooking it” you tell him and he laughs as he helps you to your feet.

“You’ll like this, promise” he tells you which is how you find yourself at his kitchen island making your own pizzas. You laugh each time he attempts to throw the premade dough and you put more pepperoni than physically possible on each slice. You do it just to annoy him though which you learn is really fun. Once you’ve destroyed the kitchen you’re both laughing at each other’s stories while sharing a bottle of wine and the messy pizza you both had made.

“How’d you get into owning that bar?” Rafe finds himself asking, noting how you picked at the slice of pizza on your plate. He knew it was because you were nervous to eat in front of him. That someone had probably made fun of you for eating and now to eat in front of others needed trust.

“Fate. Sort of. When I was twenty I graduated with my associates in business and I was searching everywhere for a manager position. That was when I found the bar. It was a hot spot and the owner didn’t feel like running it anymore. He liked that I was young, a fresh face. He sold it to me for practically nothing and now it’s basically my home” you briefly tell him the story and Rafe nods, soaking in how different your story was from his own. You had grew up practically on the same island as him and you had never known him.

“So you’ve been there ever since?” and you nod, pressing the rim of the wine glass to your lips. Reveling in the fact that is was the only thing keeping you calm in this handsome man’s presence.

“Yeah, and I really love it. I meet so many new people and work with my best friends everyday. I get to sleep in too” Rafe laughs as you say this, somehow figuring it made sense that you weren’t a morning person.

“Have you ever been in love?” the question catches you off guard and Rafe doesn’t miss the way you suck in a sharp breath at the question.

“I’d like to think I have, but I’m not so sure anymore” you say and he nods, deep in thought as he sips from his own wine glass.

“Same” he tells you and just as before you realize you and Rafe are two sides of one coin. Probably doomed, to torn up from the cruel world around you. Your worlds were two different places and maybe that’s the way things should be. Doing this was stepping into enemy territory and at the end of the day maybe you weren’t proving anybody, just proving something to yourselves. Either way, you didn’t want to leave him behind now.

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