#because every time i try to get up early to do something it doesn't work

[weaselle]

it was too much i had to make my own post

line cook here. ACCURATE

if you don't get the hate, here's what you don't understand.

it takes up to 2 hours to close down the kitchen.

The last 60-90 minutes before closing time you do almost no cooking because the restaurant doesn't have many people in it and you've already cooked most of their diners.

So if someone walks in during, like, the last hour, the cook is in the middle of an industrial deep clean of the kitchen.

(these numbers can vary quite a bit from place to place but i have worked several restaurants with these actual times and the concept remains the same)

Say the place closes at 10. If you wait til the restaurant is already closed to start all your cleaning duties, you'll be there until at least midnight.

More than that your boss knows that on an average night you can start your clean up as soon as the last rush ends and get out of there around 10:45, even 10:15 on a slow night if you get lucky. That means there are plenty of restaurants where if you do take until midnight the manager is going to come up to you at some point that week and ask you what went wrong that night, and you'd better have an answer.

So this example restaurant closes at 10 pm. The dinner rush ends around 8:30, and shortly after that the cook is going to start getting every single dish possible over to the dishwasher because the dishwasher always gets hit hard and late, and the machine runs for 2 full minutes and only holds so many dishes, so the way that works out is if you wait an extra 30 minutes to give the dishwasher all your stuff it can mean adding like 60 minutes to the end of his shift. And you're gonna KEEP finding shit to send to the dishpit right up until you leave probably.

all these little square and rectangle containers in this cold table have to be pulled out and changed over into new containers, replaced by new full ones, or in some cases filled from larger containers in the back, which can result in even more empty containers to send to the dishwasher.

while it's all pulled apart to do this, you have to clean up all the spilled food and sauce and juices and stuff from the joints and ledges and shelves and drip trays

Once you get your line changed over in this way, and fully stocked, anytime someone orders something that makes use of a bunch of that stuff, you have to restock and re-clean it some. It might already be covered in plastic. Some of it might already be stuck in the back to make room to take apart your cutting board counter to clean. To cook a dish isn't TOO much of a problem at this point, but you're really hoping for zero orders because you still have so much other cleaning to do.

Meanwhile the salad bar and appetizer section and server station and everybody are all doing the same thing. Even the bartenders are stocking olives and lemons and sending back whisks and stir spoons and shakers and empty 4quart storage containers that used to hold the back-up lemons and olives and things. Every section is dumping their must-be-cleaneds to the dishpit as fast as possible because early and fast is the only thing they can do to to help that dishpit not absolutely drown into overtime.

The poor dishwasher is always the last to clock out, soaking wet and exhausted.

Around this time you probably scrub the flat top, which has turned black from cooked on grease and is still about 500 degrees. Line cooks are divided in opinion on water-based or oil based cleaning methods for this, but they all involve scrubbing with (usually) a brick of pumice stone using every ounce of your strength while you try not to burn yourself

you scrub it from fully blackened to gleaming silver and now if somebody orders something that needs the flat top to cook, you can either fuck up your cleaning job or fake it in a couple frying pans and pass that tiny fuck you down to your dishwasher (who usually understands, especially if you help them take the garbage out or clean your own floor drain later)

If there's deep fried stuff on the menu then the fryers have to be cleaned out, which includes straining the oil out into enormous and super-heavy pots full of oil so hot that if you spill on yourself then it's probably a hospital visit and if you slip and fall face first into it it'll be the last thing you ever do.

Then you gotta scrub out the fryer. Like you gotta take the (hot) screen out and reach your arm down into the weird rounded pipes and curved areas (so hot, burn you if you brush against them hot) and scrub off whatever is down there

Depending on your kitchen you might have to do up to four of these. Then you'll have to pour the (dangerously hot) oil back in

oh, and if you didn't dry the pipes and get ALL the water out of the trap and tank?

water reacts with hot oil in a sort of mentos and coke way that can send a tidal wave of oil past the open flame of the pilot light ...HUGE dangerous mess and/or burn down the kitchen if the oil lights up.

Unless! If the oil has been used too hard and needs to be changed, it's time to carry those open topped super heavy pots full of will-kill-you-hot oil and dump them in the barrel outside by the dumpsters so you can put room temp fresh oil in the fryers. whew!

The clean up is not just some light wiping down that can be easily interrupted, is what i'm saying.

You might have to do some kind of walk-in duty (moving around 50lb cases of lettuce and 50lb bags of onions to get to the stacks of five gallon buckets full of salad dressings and sauces to move so you can reach the giant metal pots and bus tubs full of prep and get it all organized and make sure it's all labeled and i have to stop now i'm having flashbacks)

THE POINT IS

by 15 or however many minutes to close, the line cook is doing an intense deep clean and probably has the whole stove taken apart to detail.

For some industrial stoves this means lifting off large cast iron plates that weigh like 20 lbs each and are still quite hot. Whatever metal burners are on there, you gotta take off and clean, you can see here the lines that indicate the large thick cast iron rectangles that sit on top of the burners to allow heavy pots to rest on. Those five (each has one front burner hole and one back burner hole, see?) have to be lifted off and cleaned with soap and a wire brush usually, and then the underneath area also has to be cleaned because a lot of shit falls through the burner holes on a busy night.

if you didn't do it when you did the flat top you have to do the grease trap (which can be like a full five minutes and is always disgusting).. You gotta clean out all the little gas jets in each burner with a wire or something so the burners all flame evenly, and sometimes you have to remove some of the natural gas piping that connects the burners to access where you have to clean.

you gotta clean out the bottom of the oven and the wire racks, and, oh gods, you gotta take down the filter vents from the hood fans above the stove.

See all the lined parts along the top of the wall?

those are hood vents, and as they pull air up they also pull a lot of grease and they have to be taken down and cleaned, then you gotta climb up there and scrub where they go before you put them back...

And then there's the mopping and floor drains and...

Anyway, that's what the line cook is doing when you walk in fifteen minutes before closing and order something that needs to be cooked on that stove. They are doing an entire industrial cleaning of a professional kitchen.

In some restaurants maybe one or two of these jobs will be every other night or even only twice a week, but in many, possibly most kitchens, ALL of these things happen EVERY night. You don't want to leave any food mess that might attract insects or rodents for one thing, so a really good kitchen is as close to brand new as you can get it every night.

IF YOU ABSOLUTELY HAVE TO ORDER SOMETHING ANYWAY, HERE IS WHAT TO DO

open with an apology and ask the server to go ask what the cook would prefer you to order.

Any good server will already know what the cook is hoping for and what will make their line cook go into the walk in and scream. If it's significantly less than an hour to close and they say some variant of "oh anything is fine" they are either telling the lie their boss wants them to say, or they actually do not know what their line cook wants, and you can either use human connection and a conspiratorial just-between-us tone to get them to drop the customer-is-always-right act, or get them to actually go ask the cook.

It might be as specific as "the lasagna is easiest on the kitchen" or it might be a simple guideline like "nothing that requires the flat top" or "any of the sautés are easy" but a good line cook will probably have a system for if they have to make a couple of the most popular items after they start their close, so the answer is likely to include something most people like and you should be good to order that.

but for the love of all that's holy, please only do so at great need. Leave that last 30-60 minutes to the truly desperate and the crew's duties.

[matchingbatbites]

Explicit | 2k words | First time blowjob + Getting together

Found this in my drafts and finished it off. I know this is inspired by a post but I cannot find it.

"Can I blow you?"

Eddie freezes where he's unpacking his bag at the Harrington dining table, the first to arrive for tonight's D&D session. He blinks before turning to look at Steve, who is leaning casually in the doorway like he hadn't just offered Eddie the chance to live out one of his frequent fantasies.

"I'm sorry, can you repeat that? I think my ears stopped working for a second there."

Steve rolls his eyes and crosses his arms, his hip popping out in that bitchy way that makes Eddie want to bite him. "Can I blow you?" he asks again, this time with more emphasis, and yeah, Eddie heard him right the first time.

Eddie says "What's with the sudden interest, Stevie?" which he thinks is a valid question, considering the fact that Steve has never shown any inclination towards any dick, let alone Eddie's. He'd gotten confirmation of such when he came out to Steve a couple months ago and received a prompt "Oh cool. You can talk to me about boys if you want, but I don't know how much help I'll be."

The Steve in front of him exhales sharply, clearly holding back a bitchier response as he replies "Do you want a blowjob or not, man?"

It only takes Eddie half a second to answer yes, because even if this is some fever dream, there's no way he's going to turn down the man he's been crushing on. All the more reason to agree, honestly.

"Here?" Eddie asks, and Steve shakes his head.

"Upstairs, in case one of the kids shows up early."

Right, of course.

Eddie follows Steve up to his room, where the other boy shuts and locks the door behind them before he's pushing Eddie up against the solid surface.

There's no build up, no easing into it; no needy kisses or teasing touches like Eddie would expect from Steve Harrington. Steve just drops to his knees and starts on Eddie's belt, and all Eddie can do is watch as the hottest guy he knows pulls down his pants and boxers just enough to expose him.

Steve's eyebrows shoot up and his face flushes pink as he takes in Eddie's dick for the first time. Eddie's too distracted by how pretty Steve is to ask if he likes what he sees, and Steve doesn't say anything as he wraps his hand around the shaft, seeming to get a feel for it. Eddie is only about half-chubbed, but begins to rapidly approach rock hard as Steve swipes his thumb over the piercing that sits below the head.

"Did that hurt?" Steve asks, voice thick with something, and Eddie shrugs.

"Yeah. Made jacking off pretty tough for a while."

Steve hums in response and finally gives it a proper stroke, and Eddie groans low, even though it's a bit drier than he'd like. The other boy must realize the same thing, because he pulls his hand back and - fuck - spits in it before he's grabbing Eddie's dick and trying again.

It's much better, and Eddie hums encouragingly as Steve jerks him off, his eyes focused on the head that's getting redder and redder as Eddie's dick hardens. Eddie bites his lip as he watches Steve focus on his task, as he speeds up and slows down, trying a few things out.

Eventually Steve leans in and licks over the tip, pulling another groan from Eddie, and it's like Steve suddenly remembers that the dick in his hand is actually attached to a person. He looks up at Eddie, his gaze swirling with wonder and desire as he takes the head into his mouth and sucks.

"Fuuuuck, Stevie," Eddie groans, unable to keep his mouth shut at the sight before him. "Look like a fuckin' dream on your knees for me, baby."

Steve shudders at the praise and pulls back to mouth at the piercing, and Eddie desperately needs to know if Steve has done this before, because if not then he's a fucking natural. He clocks every one of Eddie's reactions and abuses the knowledge, tongue flicking the piercing or lips suckling on the tip. It's not long before he takes more into his mouth, sinking down onto Eddie's cock as far as he can before pulling back with a wet noise.

He quickly finds his rhythm, bobbing on Eddie's dick like he's done it a hundred times, and Eddie gives up on trying to be cool about this whole thing. He pushes his hands into Steve's hair and pulls him closer, forcing more of his dick into Steve's mouth.

"Tap my leg if you need to stop," Eddie says as he gives a shallow thrust into that wet heat. Steve just moans, eyes fluttering as he lets Eddie guide him, his hands grabbing Eddie's jeans and holding on as Eddie fucks into his mouth.

Eddie tries to be careful; he doesn't want to hurt Steve, but the boy is just so beautiful with tears welling up in his eyes and a pink blush staining his skin. He snaps his hips, pushing the head of his dick into Steve's throat just enough to hear him choke, and Steve winces at the intrusion but doesn't tap out.

Eddie croons a soft "That's it, baby. Such a good boy, taking my dick so well," and Steve's reaction is even stronger than before, the way he melts into the encouragement even more obvious. It makes Eddie want to shower Steve in praise, to smother him with it, so he never doubts how perfect he is.

"Look at me, Stevie," he commands, and when Steve's eyes lift to meet Eddie's - glossy with unshed tears and a bit unfocused - it's enough to push Eddie right to the edge.

"Fuck, I'm-"

Eddie yanks Steve off and strips his dick in quick strokes until he's coming, shooting his spend over Steve's beautiful, dazed face. He takes just a second to catch his breath before he drops to the floor and kisses Steve hard, smearing his cum between their lips. Steve whines into it as he kisses back, and Eddie blindly reaches down, searching for the hard line of Steve's dick in his pants.

Instead, his hand meets a damp spot, and Eddie breaks the kiss so he can look down to confirm his suspicion.

"Holy shit, Steve. Did you come in your pants just from sucking me off?"

"I'm, uh- just as surprised as you are," Steve says, his voice a little scratchier than it was before. "I wasn't expecting to enjoy that as much as I did."

Fuck. Eddie forgot about this part. The part where Steve admits that he just wanted to see what it was like and figured Eddie was the perfect candidate for his little experiment. Eddie doesn't mind, really, not when this whole scenario has been kind of a dream come true, but that doesn't mean it's going to hurt any less.

They're interrupted by the sound of footsteps approaching, followed by a rapid knocking on the door. "Steve! You in here? Eddie's stuff is here but we can't find him!"

Fucking Dustin.

"Yeah, me and Steve are here!" Eddie replies. "We're talking about something, I'll be down in a sec!"

Dustin gives a "Hurry up, man!" through the door, and Eddie shakes his head as he listens to him walk away. He stands and helps Steve move from the floor to the nearby desk chair.

"I'll, uh. Go grab you a towel," he says, and Steve nods.

Eddie quickly fixes his pants before heading to the bathroom across the hall. He splashes some water on his face to help get rid of the flush, then wets a washcloth while keeping an ear out for any wandering children. The coast seems to keep clear as he goes back, and a shiver runs down his spine at the sight of Steve, who had slipped off his bottoms while Eddie was gone.

Fuck, Eddie would love to get his mouth on that cock.

He passes Steve the cloth and just stands there as he wipes off his face, then his dick, unable to look away.

"So, uh. Where did that come from?" Eddie can't help but ask, his curiosity winning out over his self-preservation. Steve looks up at him and blushes, even the tips of his ears going pink.

"Um. Dustin was ranting to me last week, talking about how you're always so strict with everyone during your games, and he thought— Well, he thought if you got laid you might go easier on them."

Eddie blinks, absorbing the information for a moment. "Did he… ask you? To do this?"

Steve shakes his head and moves to the dresser to grab a clean pair of sweatpants.

"No, that was— that was all me. It just popped into my head, like Hey, I could do that, and it just wouldn't go away. I thought I could at least ask, and if you said no, then it wouldn't be a big deal."

So, it's exactly what Eddie thought. "Right. Yeah. You were just— trying it out with someone you know, got it." Eddie turns and pushes his hands into his hair, tugging on it a bit. Stupid pretty boys and their stupid eyes, making Eddie feel things when all he is is a placeholder, an experiment.

Steve makes a soft noise and grabs Eddie by the arm. Eddie relents as Steve turns him back around so he can look at him. "Eddie, that wasn't— Yeah, okay. I didn't really like, think about it before Dustin brought it up. But I know I like being around you, and I know I liked that, so maybe— If you like me, maybe you'd be willing to give me a shot?"

He looks so earnest, so hopeful, those hazel eyes wide and wanting. There's no world in which Eddie would even want to turn him down. Instead he takes Steve's hand and rubs his thumb over Steve's knuckles. "If I liked that, he says. Like it wasn't a fucking dream come true."

Steve breaks into a beaming smile and steps closer. "Oh yeah? Dream about that often?" he asks, and Eddie rolls his eyes a little even as he sways into Steve's space.

Cocky motherfucker.

"Do I dream about the hottest guy I've ever seen giving me a blowjob like he was made for it? Yeah, might have happened once or twice, baby."

Steve huffs and closes the gap between them, pressing their lips together in a chaste, achingly sweet kiss. Eddie hums into it and moves his free hand to Steve's hip, his fingers just slipping under the hem of his shirt. S

Before they can do anything more, a banging comes from the door behind them, along with an annoyed "Can you two hurry up?! We need to get started if we want to finish on time!"

Eddie makes a mental note to kill Dustin's character tonight as he turns, still holding on to Steve. "Have some fucking patience, Henderson! Go back downstairs before I make you roll with disadvantage all night!"

Dustin squawks a "What?! That's not fair!" and Eddie just rolls his eyes while Steve presses his face to Eddie's shoulder, muffling his laughter.

"Now, Dustin!"

Dustin grumbles but stomps off, and Eddie wraps his arms around Steve's waist. "Something funny, Stevie?"

Steve shakes his head. "I just think it's funny that this whole thing happened because Dustin thought you were being too hard on them, but it's looking like you'll be even worse now."

"Oh yeah," Eddie says with a grin. He gives Steve another quick kiss and says "I'm gonna be a monster now, because instead of being up here kissing you, I have to go listen to them argue for hours."

"You love them," Steve counters, and yeah, Eddie does. "You better go before they decide to break the door down."

Eddie nods and reluctantly pulls away. "We, uh. We can talk more about this later, but for now— Boyfriends? Maybe?"

Steve beams and nods. "Yeah. Boyfriends. Now go have fun."

Edit: Inspiration post found!

[skzophreniic]

Favorite Places to Have Sex

MDNI, 18+ content.

𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩 when they wanna venture outside your bed

notes: this ended up longer than originally planned ngl. i find myself falling deeper and deeper into the void that is kim seungmin. pray for me ✊😔

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ CHAN

you already know what it is. chris practically lives at the studio, so why not fuck where he's most comfortable?

it always starts innocent enough. he's working late, you've invited yourself to the couch in the back, just scrolling through your phone. he calls you over to show you something he's working on and there just happens to only be one chair--the one he's currently settled on.

of course, he's not just going to let you stand, he's too much of a gentleman for that! he's kind enough to lend you his lap.

except now he can't focus. he's just trying to mix a track, but the way you shift on his lap whenever you point something out on the screen...yeah.

his fingers start tracing lazy circles on your thighs, voice dropping lower as he murmurs, "You’re distracting me, baby."

before you know it, his hands are gripping your hips, and you’re bouncing on his cock in the dim glow of his monitors, his low groans mixing with the bass from his unfinished song. The door is locked, but someone could still knock at any second—maybe a member, maybe a staff member and it's such a fucking vice, because on one hand, he doesn't give a shit. he wants them to hear, to know how good he makes you feel. it's the biggest thing that feeds his ego.

on the other hand, those sounds you make, the whimpers, the mewls, the lewd squelch your cunt makes when he's already made you cum twice but still can't stop rutting into you...yeah those are only for his ears.

he's pretty open to using his own moans though. have you listened closely to the backtrack of railway?

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ LEE KNOW

minho is obsessed with eye contact, so it’s no surprise that his favorite place is in front of a mirror. he wants you to see everything—the way your body moves, the way your face twists in pleasure, the way he controls every reaction you have.

you're insecure about your body? the sounds you make? yeah, no. every fucking thing about you is his biggest turn on, and he's just not okay with you not knowing that.

he’ll start slow, teasing you with featherlight touches, whispering in your ear, "look at yourself, baby. look how pretty you are for me." his hands will guide your movements, forcing you to watch the way he ruins you. and just when you think he’s going to let you close your eyes, he grips your jaw, turning your head toward the reflection. "I said, watch."

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ CHANGBIN

gym. yeah i said it, i don't care how basic it is.

he will sweetly ask you to come work out with him, super super early in the morning or super late at night, when nobody's around. he'll tell you it's because he gets too shy to take off his shirt when other people are around but gets too hot and uncomfortable with it on.

you fall for it every time. sweet thing.

binnie loves seeing you all sweaty and out of breath. there’s something about watching you work out that drives changbin crazy—maybe it’s the way your body moves, the little whimpers when you push yourself too hard, the way you stretch in all the right ways.

one second, he’s spotting for you, the next, he’s pinning you against the weight bench, gripping your thighs, telling you to let him do all the work now. "you wanna stretch a little more, baby?"

next thing you know, he’s pinning you against the mirror, your fingers leaving smudged prints on the glass as he fucks into you from behind, his hands gripping your hips bruisingly tight. he groans against your ear, voice thick with need,

"you've worked so hard today, baby," he'll grunt into your ear. "let me take care of you now."

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ HYUNJIN

hyunjin’s art studio is his sanctuary, the place where he’s most creative, where he loses himself in his work for hours at a time.

it always starts innocently enough. it's your birthday, and he wants to paint a portrait of you in that cute little sun dress he gifted you. that short, skimpy little sun dress he gifted you. and he needs you on his lap. for the creative process. spefically with your dress up, panties pushed aside, and his cock nestled deeply inside of you.

also for the creative process.

"you gotta sit still for me, pretty." he murmurs, leaned back against the couch, his gaze focused on his canvas. "or else this will take longer."

it's horrendously delicious, the way he makes you warm his cock while he works, refusing to let you move. he doesn't even fucking react, a hundred precent focused on making you the best portrait.

when he's done though, and only if you've been good and didn't move, he'll set his supplies aside to dry and let you fuck yourself on him. let you use him any way you want it.

and if you haven't been good, the only thing you're getting off on is his thigh. if you're lucky. tough luck.

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ HAN

jisung has no patience. if he wants you, he wants you. which is why you end up fucking in the car so often—no waiting, no hesitations, just pure, impulsive desire.

it usually happens after late-night drives. the city lights blur past as he grips the wheel, one hand occasionally straying to your thigh, drumming against your skin. it's so fucking soft against his fingers, he's already hard. and you just had to wear that little skirt that gives him easy access.

"you're driving me crazy," he mutters, trying to keep his eyes on the road, shifting in his seat. he's only just got his fucking license, he could hardly drive with the music on yet, much less with you sitting there like that.

he’s aching for you.

so when he pulls into some dark, empty parking lot, hands clenched around the steering wheel like he’s trying to keep himself in check, you decide to put him out of his misery.

you lean over, fingers already working at his belt.

he whimpers. actually fucking whimpers.

his cock is already hard, leaking, twitching against the cool air, and when you wrap your fingers around him, he bucks into your hand with a choked gasp.

"f-fuck, baby, please—"

yeah...you're not going home any time soon.

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ FELIX

felix is dangerously charming, and he knows exactly how to turn an innocent moment into something sinful. it usually starts with something as simple as baking together, fingers covered in flour, soft laughter filling the space.

but then, his hands start lingering—a light touch on your lower back, a casual squeeze of your thigh, his voice dropping an octave as he murmurs, "You're making a mess, baby."

the moment he sees you licking something off your finger, tilting your head like you’re teasing him? yep, you're fucked. not quite literally yet tho.

before you know it, he’s lifting you onto the counter, lips trailing down your neck as he spreads your thighs, the cool surface a sharp contrast to the heat building between you both. the half-mixed batter is forgotten, the kitchen filled with breathless moans instead, his hands spreading your thighs apart, eating you out like a man starved.

which he is. he's always fucking starved for you.

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ SEUNGMIN

the library is the last place you’d expect seungmin to be this filthy.

It always starts so subtly. he's supposed to be helping you study for your finals, flipping through textbooks in the quietest corner of the library. but then his hand finds your thigh under the table, fingers tracing slow, deliberate circles.

"focus," he says, when he look at him sharply, voice perfectly neutral.

like he isn’t the one distracting you.

you try. poor thing, you really do. but his touch is persistent, featherlight strokes just beneath the hem of your skirt, moving higher, higher—so painfully slow that it’s infuriating.

"seungmin," you whisper, an urgent warning.

He doesn’t even glance up from his book. "what?"

you shoot him a glare, shifting in your seat to escape his touch, but his grip tightens just slightly—a silent command. Stay still.

"you should really be paying attention," he murmurs. "or do you need some extra motivation?"

oh he'll tell you that if you make it through the chapter like this that he'll reward you, give you what you really want. he'll keep you on the edge, till you're finally right there, so close--

he pulls away completely, returning to his textbook like nothing happened.

"you should finish your work first," he says, flipping a page. "i’ll think about rewarding you later."

the audacity.

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ JEONGIN

his childhood bedroom.

you heard me.

the posters on the walls, the old books cluttering his desk, the twin-sized bed that barely fits both of you—it’s all so him. It should be innocent, just a short visit to his parents’ house, just a normal night.

or so you thought.

it starts with you lying next to him under the covers, whispering and giggling, trying not to wake anyone. he’s got one arm lazily draped over your waist, thumb rubbing slow circles against your hip. but then his hand slips lower—too low for something so casual—and suddenly, that mischievous smirk is on his lips.

"you’re being quiet," he teases, voice barely above a whisper. "something wrong?"

um yeah, something’s wrong. his parents are asleep down the hall. the walls are thin.

that’s the thrill—how you stiffen when he presses against you, how you grip his wrist when his fingers dip beneath the waistband of your shorts.

"aw, baby, that's just too bad" he coos, smirking against your skin. "You’re gonna have to be quiet for me."

the bed creaks when he shifts, pressing his weight against you, and he pauses—just for a second—listening for any signs of movement outside the door. when all remains quiet, he grins, his hand slipping beneath your pajama shorts, and you bite down on your lip to keep from moaning.

"shh," he breathes, pressing a finger to your lips. "if you wake them up, you’ll have to explain how their sweet, innocent jeongin has you like this."

[sqgeism]

ive been reading too many domestic fics lately

sage...*gets on knees and bows head in utmost reverence*

domesticity with the amphoreus men. A NORMAL DAY IN THE LIFE. THERE'S TOO MUCH ANGST. MAKE THE PAIN GO AWAY I BEG OF THEE.

lots of love,

ri.

𐙚 𓏵𓏵𓏵 𐙚 i don't wanna be the owner of your fantasy | amphoreus men x gender neutral reader

🍒 — ᥫ᭡ i just wanna be a part of your family . the world is kinder when i close my eyes and pretend all of it isn't on fire.

love mail — ⨾ hiii ri anaxa's #1 dove fr 👰‍♂️ i stopped writing vamp anaxa to LOCK IN. no more angst for oomfs.. only happiness 🧘‍♀️🧘‍♀️ (lying) rly quick sorry ri ily 🥀

anaxagoras isn't domestic.

he isn't domestic when he wakes up a little earlier than you, making sure to kiss your forehead before getting out of bed, moving the alarm you set to five more minutes since you don't want to get up too early.

surely, it isn't domestic when he makes you your preferred beverage in the morning—or a different breakfast each time for you to try. or when he had brought home your favorite snacks on the way home from the academy for you to eat later when he's gone. not at all, it's just all too sweet for the prickly professor.

and when he serves you breakfast in bed, turning off the alarm he had adjusted to instead wake you with loving kisses to your face, it isn't supposed to be interpreted as an intimate gesture, no way. "morning." anaxa whispers softly, the faintest smile gracing his lips as he watches your eyelids slowly flutter open. titan, your eyes had to be inspired by the finest of jewels when the gods were making you. simply gorgeous.

anaxa tries to make mornings as special as possible, knowing he'll be gone for hours once he walks through that door and comes home late again, to his dismay. he'd take care of you all throughout the day if he could.

don't.. don't call it domestic though.

it isn't.

anaxa will do anything but call it that </3

to say mydei yearned—that he ached and bled for this life—is an understatement.

titan forbid a man wants to scream about how much he loves his partner and the life they have together, that he loves waking up to you playing with his hair or tracing his marks. it's then followed by his home gym routine, and if you choose to join him or not—he hopes you at least stay.

if you do, he likes to talk about health and different routines he wants to try and if you're interested. if not, he likes it if you stick around and do your own thing. maybe read or some work? but stay close by, please, you're his motivation.

all meals are to be cooked by prince of castrum kremnos and prince of castum kremnos only, but if you'd like for takeout or a fancy restaurant (or he made plans), he's happy to do so! but cooking is a biiig love language for him, definitely used it to impress your friends and family. it makes him feel like a little boy getting praised whenever you tell him that your family wants him to cook something for them, he's just the happiest!

and kids, oh they're the dream. but he doesn't mean they have to be human kids, pets work too! they're basically kids, no? he just.. he wants to care for something, someone. he loves you so much but he also has so much love to give to the world too </3 agh hes such a sweetheart im sorry

he loves you because you're his last, he knows it. youre his heart and soul and he's surrendered every part of his being to you. his heartbeat is the same as your laughter and his eyes can only ever reflect you. he hopes he can give back even just a fraction of all the happiness you make him feel.

phainon is so painfully enamored with his domestic life he completely forgets he's supposed to be a warrior sometimes.

he thinks he's the luckiest man in the universe to see you when you just wake up, when you're still drowsy and trying to snuggle into his chest further, not wanting to get up.. an absolute goner. he's a 'weak' man (for you), all he needs is your sweet words to tell him to do something and he's all yours.

he likes it when you take care of him, considering how hard he works. phainon is a provider at heart but to be dote on is very very nice, who says no to kisses and sweet words from their angel anyway? absolutely not phainon. he'll HAPPILY take your attention away from the world, not like it needs it. the world has him, and he has you.

you're the one thing he doesn't have to share, to sacrifice (HOPEFULLY!!!!), and he doesn't ever want to lose sight of that fact. that no matter how much he goes through, he has someone waiting for him back at home. and they'll be expecting his arms around him before they sleep, whispering sweet nothings and look forward to waking up to have it all to themselves all over again.

and maybe that's why you two work so well together, the fact that you'll only ever be selfish with each other.

© sqgeism or wtv (^_^;)

[street-smarts00]

Santa Doesn't Know You Like I Do

Spencer Reid x Reader

Summary: Your first Christmas with Spencer and you get his name for secret Santa. 

WC: 1.8k

Tags: Fluff, Secret Santa, friends to lovers, one use of Y/N I think A/N: Sorry I went MIA :( I got busy with school. I hope to push out many ideas while I’m on break tho. Here’s something cheesy and festive for the holiday season I hope you enjoy! (not beta read don't kill me)

Nothing was right. Nothing you found was the right present. 

This was your first secret Santa with the BAU and you picked Spencer's name out of penelope’s mug. At first you thought it would be easy to buy a present for him because you knew him so well. In almost a year of being with the BAU you grew the closest with Spencer. 

What you didn’t expect was your present ideas to not live up to your own expectations. Nothing you came up with could live up to your own standards. Of course your “slight” feelings for him definitely affected this, but you tried to tell yourself that wasn’t true. 

You ran through dozens of ideas. Clothing, a new scarf, tickets for a play, special edition of a book he loved. But nothing felt like the right present. 

You almost gave up in your search for the perfect present for him. The gift exchange was in less than a week and you still had nothing. Sitting at your desk in the bullpen you considered settling with one of your first ideas. 

While getting up to refill your coffee mug you noticed Spencer’s attention was focused on his computer. He sat there deep in thought with his brows furrowed and lips in a fine line. When you walked by his desk you saw he was playing an online chess game. 

“Working hard or hardly working?” you joked. 

He popped out of his focus from your presence. “I finished my files a little early,” he responded bashfully. 

“Are you at least winning?” 

He smirked, “I’ve won four times. But that’s not even the fun part. The fun is doing different plays every time and seeing what the computer comes up with as the best response.” 

That’s when it hit you. An idea for Spencer’s gift. 

Finally something that felt like a good gift for him. At the end of the day you rushed out of work to go to the craft store and get your supplies. You worked on the gift everyday after work. 

Soon the weekend rolled around and you found yourself at Rossi’s. His living room had the biggest Christmas tree you’d ever seen. Everyone’s gifts sat there for the evening. After dinner you all sat down to exchange gifts. 

“I want to go first!” Garcia exclaimed. She jumped up from the couch and hurried to the tree to grab her gift for JJ. 

JJ excitedly opened the gift bag to find a small black and grey purse with a colorful crochet keychain. The idea that Garcia also handmade part of her gift gave you a sense of relief. 

“Oh this is so pretty. Thank you so much,” she beamed, admiring the bag and twirling the keychain. Garcia squealed in happiness before JJ offered a hug to her. 

JJ then handed over her gift to Rossi, a bottle of scotch. He smiled and thanked her for the bottle saying how his collection needed a new addition. 

He stood up and brought his hands together looking at the tree. “My turn.” He grabbed a thin box wrapped in silver sparkly wrapping paper and walked over to you. 

“For you, my dear,” he handed you the box. 

Your eyes widened and lips perked up at the gift. It may be a little silly but, part of you wished that you were Spencer’s secret santa. You reminded yourself that the possibility of you both picking each other's names was unlikely. The possibility of some things being the same between the two of you was … unlikely. 

You ripped back the paper to reveal a large eyeshadow pallet. Upon opening it, you saw an array of beautiful shades you couldn’t wait to try out. 

“Rossi, this is so sweet. I love it,” You thanked with a bright smile. 

Now it was your turn. Everyone’s eyes only made the moment more stressful. You got up and grabbed the box with a nervous hand. What if he didn’t like it? What if he thought it was too cheesy or corny? What if he thought it was useless as he already owned two of them?

You tried to quiet your thoughts as you handed him the box, but they had no intention of leaving.

“Merry Christmas Spence,” you said softly.

When you turned and walked back to your seat you neglected to see the rising blush on his face. 

Spencer glanced down at the white and red striped paper. He carefully peeled it off and opened the lid to reveal a chess set nestled in between red tissue paper. The board spaces were off-white and royal purple with corresponding chess pieces the same colors. When he picked up the wooden pieces and saw small leaves and flowers painted on them. The King and Queen specifically had crowns in a shimmering gold. 

“Wow look at that,” Emily admired.

Upon further inspection he noticed the small human imperfections in the details. The way not one leaf or flower looked exactly the same. Or how the clear coating over the paint was slightly streaky in some spots. 

“Did you paint this?” He asked.

You nodded your head and answered , “Yeah I did.” 

A faint “awe” could be heard across the room from Garcia. 

“Y/N,” Spencer started, his voice full of admiration. “This is … beautiful.” 

The butterflies in your stomach were getting restless. 

“Really?” you asked, not able to hide the smile spreading on your face. 

“Yes! It’s Perfect,” his eyes sparkled at you. “I love it. Nobody’s ever given me something like this.” He beamed at you with a smile that made you love sick. 

The realization that you both were not alone set in and Spencer cleared his throat before closing the box. The gift exchange continued as Spencer handed over a present to Morgan. 

The rest of the night was filled with catching glances and far away looks between you and Spencer. He seemed to feel more relaxed in a way after receiving your gift. Not that he was acting any differently. He just seemed more open. With the group and with you. 

You lived off that feeling the whole evening. The idea that you made him happy. You helped him see he was appreciated and loved. 

Not that he had to know you loved him. 

He didn’t know that. Right? 

As the hands on the clock passed you announced your departure and said your goodbyes. You stepped outside and felt a chill against your skin. 

You held tight onto your keys as you walked to your car. The snow had just started to fall. Occasional little flurries fell down from the sky. 

“Wait!” Someone yelled from behind. 

You turned to find Spencer trying his best to run but not slip on the icy parts of the driveway. When he got closer you noticed his cheeks and the tip of his nose were pink. Probably from the cold weather you thought.

“I wanted to formally say thank you for the chess set,” he explained. 

“You’re welcome,” you replied with a smile. You stuffed your hands in your pockets away from the cold. “I’m glad you like it. I was worried you’d find it cheesy.” 

He looked confused. “Why would I find it cheesy?” 

You shrugged, “because I hand painted it.”

“But that’s what makes it perfect,” he reassured. His voice is sincere and soft. “It’s personal and shows you care.”

His eyes widened. “Oh um-“ 

He suddenly remembered why he rushed outside and scrambled for something in his jacket pocket. It was a small cube shaped box wrapped in paper covered in snowflakes. Quite fitting for the weather.

“I know I technically wasn’t your secret Santa but I still wanted to get you something.”

You took the gift from him with a slack jaw. “Spence-“

“This isn’t because you were my secret Santa. I still wanted to get you a gift regardless,” he reassured. 

“I- Thank you,” you started unwrapping the gift. 

“It’s not homemade like yours but I hope you still like it.”

”It doesn’t have to be homemade for me to-“ the wind was stolen out of your lungs.  

The gift was a small gold and white music box you immediately recognized. You opened the lid to reveal a ballerina in a pink tutu spinning as Sleeping Beauty Waltz played. Your heart ached as you admired the tiny dancer.

”Is this the music box from that antique shop in Seattle?” 

While on a case in Seattle, you and Spencer went to an antique shop to ask the owner about evidence found at the crime scene that was purchased there. You fell in love with a beautiful music box in one of the aisles. 

“It is. I saw how you looked at it in the store and in the car you said it reminded you of when you used to do ballet. So before we left Seattle I went back to the store to get it for you. I thought it would make a great Christmas present.”

“But, that was three months ago.”

He sheepishly smiled and his cheeks only got more red. “Yeah, I had to keep it a secret for a while.”

Your heart rate started to pick up as the butterflies returned. “I can't believe you went back and bought this for me,” you muttered in disbelief. 

“Of course I would. You mean a lot to me and I knew this was something that would make you happy.” 

You admired the music box before carefully placing it in your purse. “Thank you so much. I love it.” 

His smile grew and reached his eyes. His eyes looked beautiful in this lighting. The Christmas lights from the house made them look practically golden. Even in the freezing cold you could melt from his eyes.

He shifted his weight and licked his lips. He seemed wrapped around the words in his head. “I also wanted to ask if maybe you’d want to go see The Nutcracker with me.” 

Your heart damn near stopped. 

“It’s playing at the theater downtown. I was thinking if we don’t get a case then we could go see the show on Friday. Maybe, if you want to, that is,” he rambled in nervousness. 

“I’d love to,” you beamed. 

His face brightened at your eagerness, but his nerves were still present. “But not as friends. As a date?” 

You chuckled, “Yes Spencer, I would love to go on a date with you. I think the nutcracker is a perfect first date.”

“Great,” he said with relief. “And maybe afterwards we might have time for a game of chess with my new board.” 

God he was cute. 

“That sounds great.”

[afroslacks]

So Good Part 2/?

(I need better gifs smh)

Sugar Daddy! Elijah "Smoke" Moore x Black! Reader

I open my eyes to sunlight blinding my vision.

“Rise and shine, beautiful,” Elijah says in a playful tone, knowing I’m not much of a morning person but enjoying my suffering nonetheless.

“It’s too early,” I groan, turning my head into the pillow, dreading getting out of bed.

“Girl, it’s nine o’clock in the morning,” Elijah replies as he watches me complain from his standing position, still in his pajamas from the previous night. The man has always been an early bird and a night owl at the same time. It doesn't make any sense. I know it's mainly due to his job and how proactive he is. Smoke is the type to wake up early to get a workout in, and I know this because I’ve seen him do it multiple times in the months I’ve known him.

As I continue to wallow in bed at the thought of getting up, I suddenly feel a harsh slap on my ass, jolting me upright. I slowly turn to glare in annoyance at my sugar daddy as the blanket slides down my figure and pools at my waist.

“What the hell was that for? I’m awake, just like you wanted,” I say, feeling betrayed.

“You ain’t moving fast enough for me,” he replies as he leans down over my body in bed, a smirk on his handsome face. Placing a hand under my chin to tilt my head, he says, “Don’t look so mad—you’re too pretty for that,” then pecks my lips. “Also, go downstairs. Breakfast is ready. I’m gonna work out, and then I’m all yours, baby girl.”

Walking away, he gives me a chance to stare at his muscular back—the same one I’ve had the pleasure of scratching up every time I gave him some of my cookie.

Moments later, I make my way downstairs to see that he did, indeed, make breakfast: eggs, bacon, grits, waffles, and a side of fruit. I make myself a plate before sitting down for thirty minutes, enjoying breakfast as I watch television.

Time goes by before Smoke appears from his home gym—sweaty and all—with a gold chain to match, as if he belonged on the cover of a magazine.

“How’s breakfast?” he asks, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge.

“Good. Thank you for feeding me,” I reply, smiling.

“No problem, baby. I’m trying to make sure you have something other than one bag of chips and water,” he jokes. Smoke has always been a firm believer that I need to take care of myself properly. And for some reason, he thinks all I eat is snacks and barely any nutritious meals, like the madman he is.

But I let him have it, because sometimes I do feel light-headed.

“Anyways, I’m gonna disregard that comment, because I don’t respond to fake news,” I cut in playfully, rolling my eyes.

Smoke walks toward me before arguing, “Or, you know I’m right, as always—because you don’t eat enough when you're not with me.”

I wave a hand in his face. “That’s not true. Where do you get that from?”

He ponders, looking up at the ceiling. “I don’t know how you scarf down food like crazy when you’re with me.”

He caught me there—but I’m not gonna tell him that, because then he’s right. Half the time, I don’t even think about how hungry I am until he reminds me. It's annoying, because then he asks me a bunch of questions, like he’s my dad or something.

“Whatever. I’m done talking about it. Let’s table that discussion for the day,” I suggest, feeling tense all of a sudden.

Elijah just stares at me for a minute before agreeing.

After we both get ourselves ready for the day, Smoke tells me he has to stop by his company to handle something—and then he’s all mine for the rest of the day. We drive through the city in his black Porsche, his hand permanently resting on my thigh. I think he can be clingy at times—in the sense that he always wants to be near me or touching me. But he says, “I just want to touch you, baby.”

It makes me melt in all the best ways.

After the Porsche is parked, we walk hand in hand into Joint Company, which is the name of his business, co-owned by him and his twin brother Elias “Stack” Moore. Even though they are identical twins, they act completely differently—so it’s easy to tell them apart. Stack acts hot-headed and reckless. Smoke, on the other hand, is reserved and level-headed.

To me, it’s a no-brainer who I’d choose.

Also, Stack likes white women who want to Black themselves. They’re so down with the brown, it’s all they want to be around.

The receptionist greets Elijah as he walks by.

“Hello, Mr. Moore. It’s nice to see you, sir,” she says, while my hand stays snug in his grip.

“Same to you, Pearline.”

Riding the elevator is a short trip. He still refuses to let go of my poor hand, so I lean into his side and kiss his neck, brushing against his gold chains.

“I’ll try to make this business talk as quick as I can. Bear with me,” he promises, leaning his head to the side to give me more access.

I rub my hand across his belly. “It’s alright, baby. You know I have nowhere to go today. I’m all yours.”

The doors glide open to reveal the company floor—employees scattered across desks, doing their jobs as usual. The twins run a successful and smooth-sailing business, so they don’t have too much to worry about when it comes to their staff.

We make it to his office. We open the door to see Stack waiting. He turns around as the door opens.

“Well, look at this—my brother and his favorite girl,” he greets with a smile, flashing his grill.

I wave softly. “Hello, Stack.”

Smoke breaks away from me to greet his brother with a warm hug.

“What’s so important that you called me in?”

Stack chuckles. “It’s all business. More than usual with you today.”

Smoke smacks his lips. “You pulled me away from my time off, so yes.”

At that comment, Stack stiffens slightly, sensing his brother’s annoyance.

“Alright. Leave her here, and let’s go into my office to discuss business.”

Both twins are gone for about an hour before Smoke returns to find me seated on his couch, phone in hand. I look up as I hear the door open.

“Sorry for the wait, baby. We had to straighten some stuff out, but it’s done now,” he apologizes, sitting next to me.

I put my phone down and lean closer. “You’re all mine now?” I ask.

“There’s no place I’d rather be,” he replies with a look of longing in his eyes—like he hates being away from me.

At that look, I place my hand on his neck with a simple but firm grip.

“What’s the matter, Eli?” I ask gently.

“I just see peace when I look into your eyes.”

At that comment, my heart flutters at his confession. His beautiful brown eyes never leave mine as I press my forehead against his.

I place my lips on him deeply, causing him to groan from deep within his chest. Large hands firmly grip my waist, pulling me onto his lap while my hands wrap around his neck.

The hands rub up and down my back as we fight for dominance in each other's mouths. I pull away for a second to breathe, wishing I didn’t have to. Smoke just stares at me, eyes hazy, then forcefully pulls back into his mouth with pecks to start before kisses get deeper again.

“Smoke, we can’t do anything crazy in here,” I mutter between kisses. “Baby, we can do whatever we want; I’m the boss, remember?” he replies, not giving a fuck about the people outside the office. My hips start to grind on him as we continue. 

Elijah’s pants continue to get tighter, and his bulge gets hard under me. His hands grab one of mine from his neck to slide it towards the top of his pants. “Look what you did to me, lil mama,” he rasps, pulling back to intensely look into my eyes. I blush at the discovery, feeling a sense of pride at my accomplishment. “That’s not my fault, you just don’t know how to control yourself.” I jok,e trying to lighten the mood, hoping he’ll take it easy on me.

He shakes his head full of waves before replying “I didn’t do shit and we ain’t leaving until to take of it” he promises 

Wordlessly, I undo the buckles of his belt and unzip his pants, sliding my hand underneath his boxer briefs to wrap my hand around his length.

Slowly grazing past the pubic hair, he sighs as he leans his head back, exposing his neck in relief. “I barely got started, and you’re already acting like you’re in heat,” I joke. “Don’t start teasing,” he grits out, groaning as I start sliding my hand up and down the length.

His moaning and groaning are music to my ears.It's always funny when Elijah talks smack to me as if I don’t have the balls. “Oh would you look at that moaning like you’re my bitch” I taunt feeling a little cocky.

His breathing gets heavy at my words; he's unable to respond. Feeling overwhelmed but enough at the same time.

He’s always been the dominant one in the relationship he also enjoys it when a young thing like yourself shows him up at his own game. There’s also a level of trust and intimacy in letting you take control because he feels at ease, especially with you.

So I continue stroking him as I lean in his ear, “You can act all tough in front of everyone, but I just want you to know I’m just as capable of turning you out. No matter how much you think you have over me.”

I run my other hand over my chest, tugging on my gold chains. You lean back to hold eye contact with him as you bring him closer to pleasure and release. His stomach starts to feel tight as he gets closer, “I’m gonna-” he starts before you interrupt,“It's alright, I’ve got you,” then he releases with a grunt. 

His hand pulls you closer so you’re against his stomach and exposed length, his breathing is slowly coming down as he feels the afterglow.

Elijah starts kissing your forehead and rubbing your back, wanting to get you closer. Processing how overexposed and vulnerable yet comfortable with you in the intimacy that you shared, “As soon as you’re done collecting yourself, we can get out of here,” You say in a soft voice

A/N : I'm sleepy but, I was inspired to write. What do you think? I also appreciate all the love and support! Furthermore, the random reblgs with the memes had me dying. Anyways, see you later>

[differenteagletragedy]

Part two of this one where Price is your neighbor and falls in love with you but whoops you have an awful gross boyfriend :/

John is a man who embraces his flaws. He knows each and every single one of them by heart, and if he doesn't put time into fixing them, he works long and hard to make them into something useful.

And thank goodness he does, because it turns out that his competitive streak and his slight obsessive tendencies -- the urge to devour the things he loves, to feast on them endlessly until he's either consumed it all or been consumed himself -- would come in handy in his mission to win you over and away from your useless leech of a boyfriend.

For days, every time he sees you, the boyfriend is attached to your side, a parasite sucking all the light and life from you, and it almost hurts John to watch. To see such a pretty little thing like you get used -- because it's obvious to him, from the heart-to-heart you'd had all those weeks ago, as well as just from simple observation, that that's what was happening -- when he could be making you smile, making you happy ... it's a struggle.

But he wants to bide his time. He knows if he comes in to your rescue, guns blazing, it could backfire, that even if he knows in his bones that you are meant to belong to him, it might seem overwhelming and presumptuous at best to make such a declaration so early.

"I'm glad he's back," you tell him the first time he gets you alone -- a Wednesday night in the laundry room of your shared apartment complex. "I think things are working out better this time, I really do."

"Is that so?" he replies in a carefully measured tone. He shoots you a tight grin that he knows good and well doesn't meet his eyes as he moves his clothes from the washer to the dryer.

You give him a look, one that tells him that you know he knows you're bullshitting, and he lets out a small laugh.

"I don't mean to rain on your parade, love, truly, I don't," he tells you. "But I seem to remember you being none too happy about the man. You didn't exactly paint a happy picture when you spoke of him, yeah?"

You sigh as you take each individual piece of clothing from the dryer, folding it neatly and placing it in your basket, and he tries not to notice how much it gets under his skin to see your lovely, careful hands smoothing out your boyfriend's clothes before mixing them in with your own.

"I know," you admit softly. "But he's here, and he's trying ... well, trying for him. And maybe that's better than being alone."

John wants nothing more than to pull you away from the machines, to press you against the wall and kiss you until all that sad resignation was gone from your voice. He wants to hold you until you understand that you deserve more than the scraps of a pathetic man too stupid, self-involved or both to realize what a treasure he had in you.

But he's playing the long game now. So instead, he hums thoughtfully, then says, "You ever think that there's another option?"

You grin, and it's a shot of warmth to his chest, a cozy little feeling that spreads out and over him and god, he wants so much more of that.

Before you can respond, a buzzer goes off -- your second load of laundry, ready to be dried. It breaks the moment, but that's all right. John is a patient man. He can create another.

A week or two later, he's heading out for a bit, a quick trip to the shops to pick up some groceries. As he's walking to his parking spot, he hears raised voices, and when he pinpoints one of them as yours, he walks faster.

He sees you standing by your car, looking as cute as ever wrapped up in your winter coat, and your boyfriend kneeling on the ground by your rear right tire. It's flat, and there's a jack and a tire iron lying on the pavement near it, but no real work done on repairing the situation.

"Look, it's not a big deal," John hears you tell your boyfriend, the frustration apparent in your voice like this is your fourth or fifth time repeating this same line. "I'll call someone to come fix it, it's --"

"I can fix the fucking tire, Jesus Christ," the boyfriend barks, and for John, that's quite enough of that.

"There a problem?" he asks, a bit of the Captain coming out in his tone as he glares down at the other man.

"Just a flat tire," you tell him. "Someone is pretending they know how to change it, but --"

"For the last time, I know how to change the goddamn tire, your piece of shit car is just --"

"Let me have a go then," John interrupts, his lips in a tight line.

The boyfriend rises, moving to stand in front of John. He has an inch or two on him, and he clearly tries to use them to intimidate John, which is a ridiculous enough move that both men can hear you bite back a laugh.

It's a pissing contest, pure and simple, but John is playing to win. He stands his ground, staring steady until the boyfriend sighs and gestures to the tire, inviting him to take over.

As John goes to take over the job, the boyfriend purposefully brushes against his shoulder with his own, leaning in to growl, "She's not going to fuck you for changing her tire, old man."

The remark was just low enough for you to miss up, but pointed enough for John to imagine a number of scenarios in quick succession, most of them involving the tire iron and shutting up the boyfriend's rotten mouth for good. But again, John is all smooth control, so he just pats the man's shoulder before he gets down on his knees and begins, with little trouble, the process of changing the tire.

It's at some point before the new tire is put on that the boyfriend storms back inside, muttering some feeble remark about not feeling like going out anymore. When he leaves, you move closer to John, watching him as easily continues the job.

"Thank you," you say softly. "You didn't have to do this."

He smiles up at you quickly before his eyes go back to the tire, and says, "Quite all right, sweetheart. No trouble at all."

When he's done, he packs everything back up for you, tucking it all in your trunk. You protest, trying to grab the tools from him, but it's easy enough for him to out-maneuver you. He holds the tire iron up high, out of your reach, and you laugh easily, all earlier tension gone, and the difference in you when you're with him, when it's just the two of you, is almost enough to make him ache with longing.

You thank him again, tell him again that he didn't have to help, and a bit of his resolve snaps. He doesn't want much more time to go by without you knowing that you deserve that kind of help, those simple, easy little acts of kindness.

"Tell you what," he says, lowering his voice in a conspiratorial tone. "If it makes you feel more at ease, you can pay me back for the labor."

"Yeah, sure," you reply earnestly. "How much?"

"One cup of coffee. That's my rate."

You gift him with another bright smile as you pick up on the offer, but he sees your eyes glance towards the apartment building.

"I maybe shouldn't," you respond. "My boyfriend is --"

"Not here," John finishes the sentence for you. "And I, the man who just slaved away to do a repair on your vehicle, am."

"... So you are."

He grins, lowering his voice just a smidge more, adding "Quite thirsty too."

You laugh, then gesture for him to get in your car -- an agreement, for coffee, at least.

It's a small victory, but as John well knows, that's how wars are won.

PART THREE -- PART FOUR

[hughiecampbelle]

The Boys Preference: Wearing Something Tight/Skimpy

Requested: heyy! can i request a The Boys preference where (during early relationship) they see reader in more tight fitting clothes for the very first time (reader usually wears baggy jeans and oversized shirts, but now for once wears shorts and a tight fitting tanktop or smth) tysm! - @yinorathedragontamer

A/N: Screaming I love this! As someone who loves baggy clothing, there's nothing better than showing off the ✨️goods✨️ when I feel like it lol. This was super fun to imagine! I hope you like it! Feedback is always appreciated 💜💜💜

Butcher is pretty shocked. Whereas you usually lean towards oversized shirts and big pants, you were dressed in something revealing, tight. You tried to look casual, secure, but underneath you were full of insecurities. You think I look stupid, you say, following his gaze up and down your body. Stupid is the last word he'd ever use. Butcher wears this wicked smile, telling you exactly what he thinks. You laugh, telling him to shut up before he's saying anything else. He loves what he sees. Because your relationship is still new, he's trying to be on his best behavior, but you know how his mind works. You throw your sweatshirt over your outfit, calling him ridiculous, laughing at him. Now that he knows what's underneath those oversized layers, he can't keep his thoughts or hands off you.

Hughie is all giggles and smiles. He hadn't realized you'd kept one of your suits from your time at The Seven. This suit, however, was different from the one you regularly wore. This was tighter, more exposing, showing off every curve and contour of your body. It was the only one you were allowed to take with you and there was a reason you rarely put it on. He wasn't used to seeing you like this. You wore big sweatshirts and wide pants. He never thought he'd be as surprised as he was when he finally saw you, but he was. Your body was. . . wow. He tries to hide his excitement, but he can't. Seeing this, you do a little spin for him, growing self-conscious. Do I look stupid? You ask. He's quick to tell you you look amazing. Because your relationship is still new, he doesn't want to sound too excited, but to him, you look amazing. He's glad he got to see you like this.

Annie wants to show you off to everyone. She knows now is not the time nor place: you've put on your old Supe suit to make a point against those in favor of Homelander. It's serious and important and dangerous given his fans would do anything to get a piece of you, anything to tear you down. But she can't help it, she can't take her eyes off you. She's never seen you in your suit before. You quit The Seven before your promo pictures could come out, after you'd been introduced. You took the suit with you. By then, you'd had a sort of a cult following, people interested in your story before you had the spotlight shown on you. It helped that you and Annie were newly together. She hadn't realized you'd kept your suit so when you showed up at Starlight House wearing it, she was speechless. She'd never seen your body like that before. She couldn't take her eyes off you.

M.M. is speechless. You got all dressed up for a date. Before this, your dates had always been casual, spur of the moment, low key. Tonight Marvin went all out for reservations at a fancy place you'd never even heard of. You figured you'd pull out your best clothes which just so happened to be a little tighter and more revealing that your typical wardrobe. He picks you up at your place, not recognizing you at first. You're self-conscious, making a joke about your appearance before anyone else has the chance. He wouldn't though. He thinks you look amazing. He was always more than a little curious as to what exactly you were hiding under big t-shirts and baggy pants, but your relationship was new and so he felt a little shy wondering. Now he was glad he had waited: you were breath taking.

Frenchie is obsessed. Mon Couer, where have you been hiding all this?! It definitely makes you laugh and a little embarrassed. He's never minded your usual clothes. He's all for oversized sweatshirts and comfort and the overall aesthetic. He thinks you look adorable in your usual clothes, but this? Wow. Just wow. You jokingly tell him to pick is jaw off the floor. You and Kimiko are going undercover as a wealthy couple. She's all dressed up and waiting for you. Not only are your clothes expensive looking, but they fit like a glove. He's never seen so much of your body. It drives him wild. You get compliments from everyone, but Frenchie, your new boyfriend, can't get enough of you. If this mission weren't so important and time sensitive, he would have spent the whole night telling you just how sexy you looked.

Kimiko has never seen this much of you all at once. Together you're going undercover. She's wearing a dress with her hair and makeup done. It makes her feel like a clown. Still, she does it because she has to. And you do, too. You lose the baggy pants and big shirts for something a lot more tight and way more revealing. The rest of The Boys have a lot to say, all of it you laugh at and tell them to shut up. Kimiko hopes it's too dark to see that she's blushing, watching you step out of the car. If she spoke she would have been speechless. Instead she plays it off cool, telling you you look great, before going in. In any chance she can get though she stares you up and down, taking you in, smiling to herself. She doesn't get distracted about anything, but you? Oh you're all she can think about.

Bonus! Homelander doesn't really think about your body, or anyone's body. It's more of a want more than anything else and it typically involves milk. Still, when you come out and show everyone your suit, he's pretty speechless. Your civilian clothes and fashion are oversized, baggy, and comfortable. He's never really seen your body before, no one has. Your PR team wanted to fix that though. You're not so sure about your suit: it leaves little to the imagination. When you step out you're embarrassed, wishing for your sweatshirt. Homelander never compliments anyone unless it's backhanded, but he really does like what he sees. It's kind of a throw away line, one that seems innocent and nonchalant, but for him it's a huge deal. He can't stop thinking about you. Even when you put on the other variations, he has final say. Everyone is too scared to say no to him. He liked the first one so you wear the first one.

Bonus! Soldier Boy is practically drooling. The moment he sees you his jaw is on the floor. He's never minded your usual fashion: baggy clothes were comfortable and cute. He would have minded had he known you were hiding *all that* beneath oversized sweatshirts/sweaters/t-shirts and baggy pants. He can't help himself (not that he ever held anything back usually) when he makes remarks and jokes and innuendos. It comes out so fast it's almost compulsive, he's barely breathing between words. The Boys think it's hilarious how much attention you're getting from him considering they've grown used to these switch ups between clothes. He practically begs you for an ounce of attention, affection, and you use it as leverage. As long as you're wearing as little as possible, Soldier Boy will do anything you want.

[chaepink]

Private lessons | sub!oikawa toru

wc: 2.8k+ words | masterlist

dom!gn!reader, student x teacher relationship, professor!reader, reader is in mid/late twenties and oikawa is early twenties, college au, dry humping, begging, hair pulling, praising, teasing, choking, slight edging, pet names, a few mentions of "miss" for reader however can be ignored since no body parts are mentioned

note: lets see if i can still write good

"Professor? Can you go back and repeat that?"

You sigh and without turning around to see who asked the question, you begin repeating what you've just said out loud again. After all, you know exactly who asked the stupid question: Oikawa Toru.

Sure you're fresh out of college and new to the job but you're perfectly capable of dealing with all of the situations and problems that come with teaching. Your first year teaching sub-disciplines of biology passed by perfectly normally, with you even becoming one of the favorite teachers among the students.

So you weren't concerned when your second year began and you were prepared for most of the things that you assumed would happen.

But what you weren't prepared for was to deal with Oikawa fucking Toru, a senior who you've heard from your fellow teacher friends tends to be a constant pain in the ass.

He's the typical bad student. He's always bullying kids he deems inferior to him, hangs out with the frat boys, throws parties every week if not every day, and gets into fights. All while having girls surrounding him.

Oh, and he interrupts your teaching every second he gets.

That bastard has been the main problem that has suddenly made your job unenjoyable. He's been pulling all sorts of shit like making you repeat things at least 5 times each class, whispering crude remarks about you to his friend—even though he sits in the front of the room and you can hear each one—, and throwing paper balls and airplanes around randomly just to annoy you. Overall, he's a real nuisance during class.

And you know damn well that he doesn't even need or care for the repeating from the way he smirks at you when you're done and from now he has failed most of the quizzes and tests that you've given to the class yet doesn't go to you for any help.

No matter how annoying he is in your class, you can't be bothered to report him to the head of the school, afraid it would tarnish your new reputation as a teacher. After all, you heard rumors about how he's gotten teachers fired, and knowing his parents are somewhat influential, you'd rather not find out firsthand if they're true or not. All you can do is complain about him to your friends as you wait for the school year to end. At least his class is always the last one of the day, right? Yeah right.

Now back to the present.

As you finish repeating most of the things you already went over, you ignore the gaze burning into your head and quickly post the classwork on your laptop. However, right as you open your mouth to continue teaching, the bell rings and you can't help but let your shoulders slump as you look up to the students with a forced smile.

"I just posted the homework for this lesson that's due next class so don't forget to complete it! The semester is coming to an end so final grades will be put in soon."

As they pack up and begin chatting, a few give you sympathetic smiles as they exit, knowing what you have to go through during this class.

You don't bother to pay attention to the last person in the room as they walk up to your desk, stopping right in front of you.

"Professor? I think I need more help understanding."

You pause your typing on your laptop and focus on sorting the papers on your desk instead, trying to look busy but you're just trying not to look Oikawa in the eyes.

"Yes, Oikawa? What exactly do you need help understanding? If it's something that will take a while to chat with me about then I'm afraid that it'll have to wait until tomorrow because I have a lot of work to grade."

You quickly glance up at him and see the grin on his face. It's one that you've gotten accustomed to as it usually means he has something up his sleeve.

"Well mainly about today's lesson. I don't quite get it. Perhaps I even need a private lesson, don't you think?"

Right, you forgot to mention the rather obvious flirting he does towards you. It's almost as if your first year teaching went too well that your second just had to be the exact opposite.

You hold yourself back from rolling your eyes as you answer back calmly without looking at him.

"If what I notice during class is right, you haven't been paying attention much. But I'm sure if you start doing so, you'll begin understanding the lessons better."

You hear him let out a huff at your lack of attention towards him before seeing two hands being placed on either side of your laptop. You frown as your eyes immediately look up at him.

He's closer now, leaning over your desk and the grin wider now.

"Oh come on professor, a private lesson can't hurt. You'll be able to teach me so much." Teach him how to behave perhaps. "And you can do it however you want, I'm not picky." The way he looks at you as he says the last part has you questioning if he meant it in another way. Knowing him, he most likely did.

You sigh before gathering your papers and you see Oikawa's grin falter slightly.

"Oikawa, I don't think a private lesson is necessary. Nor do I think it would benefit you in any way." You're so focused on the papers that you don't hear him walk around the desk to your side until he's right beside your chair.

"Please, professor?" You jump slightly in surprise before turning your chair to face him and you remember just how tall he is. He's right in front of you now and the way he said the word "please" has you tensing. He knows what he's doing and he knows that you know.

You suddenly realize the tension in the room and clear your throat. "This is inappropriate, Oikawa. I'm your professor."

He raises an eyebrow before stepping closer and smirking.

"Inappropriate? Just what are you assuming? I'm not doing anything inappropriate." He leans down slightly and you frown. Damn him and his good looks. No wonder you see him surrounded by girls on the daily.

You narrow your eyes at him. "You know what you're doing," you say sternly and his smirk widens. Oh, you want to slap that smirk off his face so badly.

You can't help but glance back at your laptop for a second before suddenly feeling a hot breath in your ear and a presence beside you.

"Please, professor?" A shiver runs down your spine. Before you can reply, you notice his tie dangling in front of you—one that's always untucked despite the uniform policy—and you can't help but grab it and pull it down sharply. He gasps at the sudden action as he stumbles and falls to his knees in front of you. His eyes immediately widen and a faint blush appears on his face.

You can't help but be in shock as well. If someone were to walk in at this moment, they would see the infamous Oikawa Toru on his knees, a blush on his face that's growing redder by the second, in front of one of the school's most popular teachers.

Oh, the rumors.

Even on his knees, he's still tall but you swear he looks smaller from the way he looks up at you in surprise.

You're still holding onto his tie and you realize, the way you're staring down at him, tie in hand while he's on his knees staring at you with widened—awaiting?— eyes; Oikawa kinda reminds you of… a dog?

Get your mind out of the gutter, [Name], you tell yourself, yet your grip on his tie only tightens and you notice him swallow hard.

You look at his neck and realize you must've accidentally tightened the tie somehow as well, pressing it right up against his Adam's apple.

"M-Miss?" You snap out of your thoughts, both the title and the stutter catching you by surprise. Looking at Oikawa, you see he's blushing harder, fists clenched on his thighs as he continues to look up at you with that look. Shit.

Then you realize he's not moving, not getting up, not pushing you away, or yelling at you. He's not protesting it. Rather, he's deciding to stay kneeling in front of you.

Does he want this?

You swallow hard as your eyes rake over Oikawa's body and you swear you see his body shiver slightly. You were always a sucker for pretty men anyways.

However, when your eyes finally reach his lower half, you realize why he's blushing so much, or why he's avoiding your gaze suddenly. He's hard, so obviously hard.

Oikawa looks so different from his normal persona that you almost want to laugh. The cocky, annoying senior that has always pestered you in class reduced to a blushing, speechless mess in front of you with a raging boner.

"I bet this is what you wanted, right? During a private lesson?" You see him tense up before lowering his head in front of you, muttering something quietly.

"Use your words properly." You notice him staying silent and wonder if you've misread him before he suddenly speaks- no, suddenly moves.

He slowly leans forward to lay his cheek on your thigh and your breath hitches at the sight.

"I'm sorry, miss." Holy. Fucking. Shit.

Despite how one side of your mind so desperately wants to put him in his place after everything he's done, the more rational part of your mind quickly reminds you that you're his professor and he's your student. Although you're only a few years older than him, this could get you fired or worse.

He must sense your hesitation because he then gently grasps your ankle and presses your shoe against his crotch, letting out a small whimper that makes the heat inside your stomach rise.

You curse under your breath before tugging his tie again and he gasps. Feeling him start to slowly rock against your shoe, you take it back and hear him whine pathetically.

"Was this your plan all along? To rile me up so I would snap and teach you a lesson?" You feel his crotch twitch slightly.

Oikawa swallows hard before lifting his head up and nodding. "Words."

"Yes, miss." You can't help the grin that spreads across your face.

"Well," you start and you see him looking up at you awaitedly. "Perhaps I will teach you a lesson, in my own way of course, since you said you weren't picky." He blushes, remembering his previous words. You have a feeling that although he wanted you to snap, he didn't expect it to go this way.

The pressure against his crotch snaps him out of his thoughts and before his mind can process it, his body already has and you see pre cum seeping through the material of his pants. He lets out a moan at the feeling of your shoe again.

"How about, I'll ask you questions about the class material" —you see his Adam's apple bobbing— "and depending on whether you answer correctly or not, I'll either pull back my shoe or help you cum."

His breath hitches at the idea and almost immediately nods. With his brain already foggy along with the realization that you may pleasure him, he fails to remember that he hasn't been paying the best attention in your class or learned the material well.

You already feel him slightly grinding on your shoe again but you keep it there, wanting to keep on looking down at his flushed face panting near your thighs.

"What is a similarity between transcription and DNA replication?"

His eyes immediately widen in surprise and you know you've stumped him already. Although you know the rest of your classes would be able to answer it easily, his mind is already too clouded with pleasure, it's almost funny.

He stutters out some sort of half-ass response that you know is definitely wrong before you feign a disappointed sigh and pull away your shoe. Immediately he whines out in protest but a stern look from you shuts him right up.

So now he follows your orders.

"What does the shape of a protein determine?" Groaning, he lays his head back on your thigh. His grip on your ankle tightens slightly as he pouts up at you, trying to convince you to do something else. With his hair right in front of you, you suddenly grab it before yanking his head back, emitting a rather loud cry of pain from him.

"Come on, Oikawa"—he lets out a whine at the way you say his name so sternly—"I thought you wanted this? So be a good boy and answer the question. Or perhaps I should just leave you here?"

He widens his eyes before shaking his head hesitantly. "N-No, miss." Oh, the thought of you just leaving him here has his cock throbbing. He's so hard, it hurts.

You stay silent and he realizes you're still awaiting an answer from him. You swear you see the cogwheels turning in his brain, the need to cum fueling it.

"The… function?"

It comes out as more of a question than an answer but you take it anyways. The second you grind your shoe back against his already stained crotch, he humps it like a dog in heat, his groans and whimpers filling the classroom.

You ask him another question and of course, he gets it wrong, mumbling some response that had nothing to do with what you asked. However, taking pity on him, you don't pull away your shoe and he takes it as a sign to speed up. Maybe he thought he actually got it right or maybe he realized that you felt bad for him.

Your hand grips his tie again, tugging it as he lets out a small groan, his eyes rolling back in his head slightly at the pressure against his throat. So he likes getting choked?

"You know, when you're making all sorts of loud noises like that, I wouldn't be surprised if someone were to come check up on his room."

You expected him to slow down, maybe even stop at the realization. But rather he speeds up.

"Maybe you would even like that, getting caught." His cock inside his pants twitches a lot, answering your suspicions so you continue. "Imagine what they would think, seeing a big bad senior like you on his knees for a teacher, rutting against their shoe like a fucking bitch in heat."

Your language catches him off guard, the total opposite of how you act when you teach. He can't help the blush that travels down his neck or the shock of pleasure that runs through his spine or the way his dick leaks more pre-cum, trickling through his pants and onto your shoe because holy shit was that hot.

But the whole situation wouldn't happen anyway. You know for a fact that this part of the college was practically empty, even more so after the last class. But Oikawa doesn't know that and the thought of getting caught turns him on more than he would like to admit.

"M-Miss, I'm close," he murmurs into your thigh, taking no action to slow down. You raise an eyebrow. Assuming that he hooks up with girls weekly, you thought it would take him longer to cum, or perhaps this whole situation is too much for him to process clearly that he just couldn't hold it in. It's cute.

Oikawa is quick to babble out pleas to cum, his voice rising in pitch as his absolutely sinful noises become louder. Some drool escapes from the corner of his mouth and his body feels hot, tears prickling the corners of his eyes from the intensity.

His eyes roll back again and you swear his brain short circuits when you press down on his crotch, his grip on your ankle tightening even more to keep you there. Oikawa can’t even think properly anymore, he just wants to cum. "Pleasepleaseplease-"

"Go on Oikawa, since you've been such a good boy during this lesson." The praise is what gets him. He throws his head back, revealing his neck that you want to grab so badly, and lets out a cry of pleasure. Immediately you feel the wetness on your shoe and you look down to see the wet stain on his pants growing even more.

Oikawa slumps back forward onto your thighs as his humping slows down before coming to a stop. Looking up at you, his eyes are glassy and glazed over and the sight makes your heart race.

He sighs before laying his cheek on your thigh and closing his eyes, murmuring something that you almost fail to hear.

"Thank you for the private lesson, miss."

ty for reading to the end! ❤ - chaepink

╰┈➤ masterlist | rules

[ollyissleepy]

𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐞𝐟 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲: 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐢𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬

pairings: platonic yandere!batfam x uninterested!male!reader summary: After being caught red handed stealing, (name) finds himself in the Wayne Manor, surrounded by his new family. (Name)'s disinterested in bonding is met with equally not caring siblings and father. As he spends his days alone, (name) realises his new family might care much more than he originally thought the did. cw: stealing, swearing, underage smoking, reader commits a crime, kidnapping (kind of) a/n: someone asked if I would consider to post it on ao3 and I've decided against it due to (not so) recent events regarding fics on ao3 being fed to ai. also this one is shorther, because I decided (kind of on a whim) that I want to highlight other scenes more (yes, they will be with Bruce) based on this idea I had

m.list • part: one | two | three | four | five | six | seven | eight | nine

(Name) steps into the kitchen early in the morning. Hoping, begging that the persistent child would finally give up on eating breakfasts with him.

The past few days, Damian seemed insistent on waking up much earlier than usual. All of that just to eat breakfast with (name). The sudden disruption of his and Alfred's morning routine started to be annoying for the teenager. He has been here for a while now; why did that brat start to invade his space now?

And don't get him started on the other weird behaviours from Damian. Every time (name) turns around, the boy is always somewhere not too far from him. He sees him the most each time he interacts with Duke.

(Name) sighs, seeing that the butler is already in the kitchen. Much earlier than his usual time, already working on what the teenager recognises as a small snack for Damian. The teenager's jaw tenses as Alfred gives him a tired smile.

The teenager quickly fixed himself his own breakfast, not wanting the butler to suggest making something for him like he did the previous day. He no longer looks up when the butler greets Damian; (name) eats his breakfast in silence, thinking of a right moment to knock some sense into the boy next to him.

The right opportunity comes much later in the day when Duke is busy with his own things. (Name) makes sure that the boy is following him around before disappearing into one of the many rooms in the manor. Damian took the bait without a second thought, walking right behind the teenager.

Damian looks around the room confused, as the space appears empty. He doesn't think of turning around until (name) forcefully shuts the door. The boy jumps slightly, not expecting a loud noise behind him. (Name) doesn't wait for the boy to figure out what's going on, walking right up to Damian, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt.

"Stop insisting on eating in the kitchen!" (Name) shouted right into the boy's face. "Alfred started waking up sooner to make you something. You're going to run the old man thin!"

As Damian's initial shock wears off, the boy regains control over his own body. He breaks free from (name)'s hold, scoffing. He was slightly caught off guard by the teenager, but that doesn't stop him from putting his head high, trying to assert dominance. Walking out, Damian makes sure to shove (name) out of his way.

The next morning, walking into the kitchen, (name) is met with an interesting sight. Damian, standing in front of a kitchen island with random ingredients scattered on top of it. The boy is looking at them so helplessly; (name) almost pities him. Almost.

(Name) doesn't say anything, doesn't even greet the boy. Moving around the room, gathering what he needs for his own breakfast. He feels Damian's eyes following all of his moves. (Name) glances over to the boy, sighing loudly. The boy still didn't know what to do with the stuff he took out.

"I'll make you something; just... put all of that where you found it." (name) gives in, offering to help the boy. For Alfred, he told himself.

Damian doesn't respond. He does, however, follow (name)'s instructions. The boy puts every ingredient back in their previous spots. Damian smirks to himself; his plan to still eat breakfast with his older brother without bothering the butler worked better than he expected it to.

Alfred walks into the kitchen just in time to see Damian receiving a bowl of food from his older brother. The butler bites his tongue from making a comment on the interaction, knowing it might stop the boys from interacting with each other again. Instead, he starts making breakfast for the rest of the family with a soft smile on his face. 

Duke finds (name) not long after breakfast, skipping towards his brother happily and talking about how Alfred agreed to take them to an arcade. The boys walk up to their rooms to get ready, failing to notice Damian listening in to their conversation. (Name) turns around after hearing someone run behind them but doesn't dwell on it much as Duke is calling for him to hurry up.

(Name) almost turns back toward his room when he sees Damian standing next to the butler, only to stop short when he feels Duke standing right behind him.

"Oh, Damian, are you coming with us?" Duke asks casually.

"Yeah. Thought it'd be nice for the three of us to spend some time together," Damian replies.

(Name) scoffs. Duke nudges him, giving a small shake of his head — a silent warning for the teenager to keep his thoughts to himself.

The ride to the arcade is uncomfortably quiet. In the beginning, Duke made attempts at a conversation, but all of them died out quickly, leaving the air in the car tense.

After what feels like hours, the car finally comes to a stop in front of an arcade. All three boys step out, with Duke leaning back into the car to speak to Alfred.

"Don’t worry about lunch, Alfred," Duke says. "We’ll grab something to eat in town."

Alfred lingers in the parking spot, reluctant to drive off. He watches as Duke gently drags (Name) into the arcade, with Damian trailing just behind them. Only when the boys disappear from view does Alfred finally turn the car around and head back to the manor.

Inside, the arcade buzzed with sound and colour — 8-bit music, clanging tokens, and bursts of digital victory music filling the air. Duke had been right: (name) was good at the games, surprisingly so. He won round after round, stacking up a small mountain of tickets that trailed behind him as he walked. Damian stayed quiet, hovering at a distance, watching more than he played. He’d only come to spend time with his brother, even if that feeling wasn’t exactly mutual. (Name) didn’t look at him, didn’t speak to him; most of the time he pretended the boy wasn't even here. If it wasn't for Duke's occasional comments towards the boy, Damian might've been invisible the entire time the boy was there.

After winning enough tickets to buy almost half of the shop inside the arcade, they decide to call it quits. Duke suggests grabbing a quick bite at a nearby BatBurger before thinking about what to do next.

Inside, they picked out a booth tucked deeper into the shop, looking for a little more privacy. Before (name) could protest, Damian slipped in beside him, boxing his older brother against the window.

They ate in silence, the arcade noise fading into the background. Both Duke and (name) seemed a little worn out from all the running around.

"So... what are we doing next?" Duke asked, stretching his arms a little. "I was thinking—"

He didn’t get to finish. One of their phones started ringing. Both Damian and Duke checked their screens, while (name) didn’t bother — he knew it wasn’t his. The only person who ever called him was sitting across the table. Damian stared at the caller ID for a moment, wondering if he should pick up. 

"It’s Dick. I’ll be back," he sighed, already sliding out of the booth.

They watched him take the call, his voice low and mostly inaudible, only an apology carried just enough to reach them. (Name) watched Damian’s posture, trying to read what the conversation was about from a distance: his stance, his expression, anything that might give it away.

"So, is there anything else you want to do?" Duke asked, pulling (name)'s attention back to the table.

"Honestly? I think I’ve had enough," (name) admitted.

"You and your social battery," Duke said, grinning. "You should get it replaced; it dies out way too fast."

(Name) threw a fry at Duke, hitting him square in the shoulder. Duke gasped in mock betrayal, then burst out laughing, (name) quickly following with a laugh of his own. They didn’t notice Damian had returned until he cleared his throat.

"We were thinking of heading back to the manor," Duke said, glancing over. "Are you cool with that?"

"Yup," Damian replied simply, sliding back into his seat.

"Alright, I’ll call Alfred then. Be right back," Duke said, getting up and stepping away from the booth.

The two teenagers left in the booth sat in uncomfortable silence, waiting. (Name) kept his eyes on the window, watching people pass by outside, anything to avoid unnecessary contact with Damian.

When Duke returned, he slid back into the booth with a bit of ease that neither of them shared. He picked the conversation back up without missing a beat, filling the silence with something lighter.

"Alfred should be here soon," he said, checking his watch. "Won’t be long."

All three of them had barely stepped through the front door of the manor when they were greeted by the man (name) had bumped into during one of his first days there.

"Oh, so that’s who you went out with!" Dick said, grinning as he looked between them.

"Like I said when we spoke on the phone, I went with my blood brother and Thomas," Damian replied coolly.

"Sooo... how’d it go? Did you guys have fun?" Dick asked, clearly trying to stay upbeat.

(Name) didn’t respond. He turned and walked away before he could be dragged any deeper into the conversation. Duke trailed behind him without a word. As they moved down the hallway, (name) could still catch fragments of the conversation behind them.

"It was horrible. I do not wish to talk about it," Damian said flatly.

"I'm sorry, buddy..." Dick replied, his voice softer now, almost gentle.

Reaching the right floor, both of the boys separate, Duke understanding (name)'s need to wind down by himself.

(Name) comes down to the library, knowing that no one should bother him in there. He picks up the book he started reading recently, ready to finish it. The teenager chooses a seat further into the library, somewhere where he couldn't be seen from the doorway, throwing a blanket over his lap. 

The teenager’s peace doesn’t last long. He barely makes it to the end of a chapter when he hears a voice, one he’s pretty sure belongs to Dick, calling his name. (Name) sighs, sinking deeper into his seat, hoping that if he stays quiet long enough, the man will just give up and leave. No such luck.

Before he knows it, Dick is standing right in front of him.

"There you are," Dick says lightly.

(Name) doesn’t respond.

"I know we didn’t start off on the best foot," Dick continues, voice still friendly but tinged with something more sincere. "But it’s not like you gave me much time to get to know you. You don’t even eat dinner with us."

"Yeah, haven’t done that once since I got to the manor," (name) replies flatly.

An uncomfortable silence settles between them. Dick clears his throat.

"Anyway... do you want to have a movie night with us?"

“Us?” (Name) echoes, raising a brow.

"Yeah! Me, Damian, and Barbara said she might join too," Dick says, trying to keep the tone upbeat.

"No, thank you," (name) says without hesitation, already standing.

The teenager leaves the library without another word. Dick decides on a different approach, hoping that Duke might be able to convince the teenager to join them. 

Some time later, as (name) lounged on a couch in one of the lesser-used studies, Duke finds him with an idea on how to spend the rest of the day. He proposes a movie night with a few other family members. (Name) didn’t even look up, sighing.

"Let me guess, it’s with Dick, Damian, and Barbara?" he muttered. "Yeah, I’m not going."

"C’mon, just this once," Duke coaxed. "If you end up not enjoying it, I won’t ask you again. Promise."

(Name) sighed, glancing over. Seeing the look in Duke's eyes, he knew there was no way of getting out of this.

"Fine," he said. "But if you ask again, I will commit a crime just to get away."

"Noted. I’ll make sure it’s a good one, then." Duke laughed.

And that's how (name) found himself late into the night, sitting between Duke and Damian, watching a comedy Dick chose. 'A classic,' he said. Well, it was one shitty class in (name)'s opinion, but he promised Duke to make it till the end, so he doesn't voice his opinion. In truth, the teenager doesn't say much during the duration of the movie night, mostly one-word answers or a quiet laugh at something Duke had said. (name) ignores all of the scoffing and sneering coming from Damian as well as the glances he receives from both Barbara and Dick.

(Name) becomes aware that the rest of the siblings might be plotting something the next day as he is sitting in the library trying to read the same book he was previously interrupted from.

He doesn't notice his presence at first, too interested in the action happening in the book. (Name) finally sees him as he moves to switch into a more comfortable position. The teenager freezes at the sight of the man he met the first time he snuck away to smoke.

"I really liked that book," the man says casually. "Do you?"

(Name) doesn’t answer, eyes dropping back to the page, though he’s no longer reading.

"I’m Jason, by the way," the man continues. "Didn’t really get the chance to introduce myself before."

(Name) keeps ignoring him, trying to focus, hoping silence will do the work.

"You’re (Name), right?" Jason asks, undeterred. "Listen, if it’s—"

"Fuck, can’t you just take a hint?" (Name) snaps, finally looking up. "I’m not interested. Leave me alone."

He slams the book shut and storms past him, muttering under his breath.

"What the fuck is wrong with these people..." 

Jason, as (name) found out hours later still on the same day, was not easily discouraged. The teenager almost turns around and runs off when he spots him under the tree (name) he often smokes under. He stops when Jason shows him a pack of cigarettes, offering them to the teenager.

(Name) steps under the tree, accepting the pack. The two of them smoke in complete silence, staring off in the distance.

What neither of them are aware of are the people watching the scene from the surveillance cameras, deep underneath the manor. The two people were trying to understand what they just witnessed.

The teenager quietly sneaks back to the manor after his smoke break when he is ambushed by someone and dragged into one of the rooms. He tries to scream, but another person present forced something into his mouth to stop him.

(Name) looks around the room he was dragged into, trying to figure out what had happened. The space is filled with technology, most of which he wasn't sure could be used for. In front of him stood two people. He recognised one of them— Tim. He’d seen him around the manor, always behind a screen or typing something faster than seemed possible. Tim stood with his usual calm, hands lightly resting against a desk cluttered with gear, like he’d just stepped away from something important.

The other... he didn’t know. A girl, older maybe, or just more intense. She stood perfectly still, her gaze locked on him. There was something unreadable in her eyes — not cold, just sharp. She hadn’t said a word, and somehow that made her more unnerving than if she had.

(Name) looks between the two, unsure of what he should be waiting for. He watches the two of them exchange looks before sandwiching him between the two of them. It wasn’t threatening, but it was definitely strange.

"I thought we could play something," Tim said, grabbing a controller from a nearby shelf. "Oh—and that’s Cass, by the way."

(Name) glanced over at her. Cass didn’t speak, but her hands moved fluidly through the air in a series of quick, practiced motions — sign language, he realised. She was saying something to Tim.

"Ah, yeah, we should take it out," he said, reaching toward (name). With a tug, he pulled a piece of cloth from (name)’s mouth. The teenager scowled, wiping his mouth on his sleeve.

"Let’s play then," Tim added, handing him a controller like nothing had happened.

(Name) is suddenly thankful for Duke convincing him to play on his console some time ago. Because of this, his chances of embarrassing himself dropped rapidly.

He didn't really care for what they were playing. He focused on putting on enough effort so neither of the teenagers on his sides would notice his disinterest. (Name) was hoping that thanks to that, they would get bored of him sooner and let him leave. He had tried giving the controller to Cass, mumbling something about being tired, but the girl just shook her head, pushing it back into his hands.  

After that incident, (name) started avoiding the family altogether. He spent his time either in his or Duke's room, even going as far as eating all of his meals in the confinement of his room.

He was caught once, when he was bringing the dishes back to the kitchen after lunch. Barbara's voice called out for him as he was trying to return to his room. He kept his head down, hoping to slip past unnoticed and make it back to his room.

“(Name)!” Barbara called out again.

The boy stopped in his tracks. He turned slowly to see Barbara, seated in her wheelchair a few feet away, angled just enough to block his path without making it obvious. Her tone was calm, almost friendly, and (name) couldn't figure out what she could possibly want from him.

(Name) closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, trying to stay calm. Barbara gestures towards one of the couches, the smile never leaving her face. The teenager's eyes move towards the couch, noticing Cassandra sitting on it.

The teenager reluctantly moves towards the couch, sitting on it with just enough space from either of the women.

Neither of them says anything, (name) simply staring at his hands and trying to ignore Barbara and Cass. Which wasn't the easiest task, as both of them were burning holes into him with their stares. He felt trapped between them, every little movement he made under their watchful eyes feeling like it was being measured.

"Barbara! Cass! Hi! I was looking for you two!" A new voice rang out, light and cheerful. "Why are you just sitting here with him?"

He didn’t recognise it. A blonde girl bounced into view, her energy practically disrupting the tension in the room. She looked at him, then at the two women.

"Stephanie, hi," Barbara replied smoothly, turning her wheelchair slightly to face the girl. "We’re just trying to get to know our new brother."

"That’s nice," Stephanie said, though it sounded more like an automatic response than genuine interest.

(Name) didn’t wait. The second their attention shifted away from him, he moved—quick, quiet, and gone before any of them could stop him.

The teenager moves quickly, going straight to one place he knows no one would bother him in: the room Alfred is currently cleaning in. The butler gives him an odd look but doesn't say anything. Instead, he decides to comment on the current place the boy gained within the family. 

"You seem to be getting along with your sibling quite well, (Name)," Alfred remarked, his voice steady but observant.

(Name) didn’t immediately respond, a forced smile tugging at his lips. It was so fake it almost stung. He didn’t have the heart to tell Alfred the truth. Not yet. Instead, he simply gave a small nod, like he was pretending everything was fine.

"Maybe you could try eating dinner with everyone?" Alfred suggested, his voice almost too casual, like he was offering something small, something harmless. "I’ll be sure there’s room for you this time."

m.list • part: one | two | three | four | five | six | seven | eight | nine

taglist: @amber-content @bellethesleepypotato @leeiasure @sleepdeprivedcrappywriter @tenthmilo @eyeless-kun @holyfishbailiffpeanut @cuntiesweet @jsprien213 @marsmabe @cssammyyarts @ilovecoffe0 @phoenixgurl030 @esposadomd @alittlelostmoonchild @stargirl404 @xnutz0 @s4raahi @reeyy0-2@ironsaladwitch

[englishisaboutconfidence]

Jealousy, I Know your Name

"Ahyeon, Ahyeon, Ahyeon!" Snapping out of her trance, Ahyeon finally turned to the person trying to get her attention.

"You've been distracted all day. What has your brain all tied up?"

"Nothing Ruka Unnie"

"Are you sure Ahyeon? It seems that ever since we met the new employees, you've been somewhere else".

"Sorry, just a lot on my mind with the project deadline coming up."

"Hmmm, normally I would accept that except for some crazy reason, your eyes keep drifting in a certain direction…"

Trying to act not nonchalant, Ahyeon responded "I have no clue what you're talking about Unnie".

"Are you sure Ahyeon? Because it seems that every time, we get a new coworker who happens to be a woman our age, your mind seems to wander somewhere else and your eyes seem to magically keep an eye on a certain someone…"

Accepting that lunch in the work cafeteria wasn't the right place to have this conversation, Ruka accepted her answer. "We don't have to talk about this now, but we are going to talk about this tonight when we get drinks Ahyeon".

"Fine Unnie"

--- A few hours later ---

"So Ahyeon, are you going to finally tell me the truth because we both know that I know you better than anyone else. We have been friends for almost a decade"

Knocking back a shot of shot, Ahyeon sighed and started to answer: "Okay okay, I guess its been long enough that officially telling you won't be the worst thing in the world. Yes, I was thinking about Y/N… and maybe making sure that he wasn't getting too friendly with any of the new hires…"

Ruka responded with a simple raise of her eyebrows and a tilt of her head.

"… Yes like I always do. IDK, I just don't like when new hires get too friendly with Y/N too early. While he has a bit of a killer instinct when it comes to his coworkers and upward momentum in the work place, he is also Y/N. I still see him as the sweet, cute, nerdy guy I met in the middle school. I know he can handle male coworkers who want to snake him; but when it comes to girls our age, he can be too kind for his own good and I want to make sure that non of these skanks take advantage of him".

Hearing Ahyeon call their female coworkers caused Ruka to smirk, but Ahyeon didn't notice as she was too engrossed in her little tirade.

"I mean come on, remember Sullyoon,I mean all she did was touch his arm a little bit and flutter her lashes, and suddenly he was helping her whenever she asked. Don't even get me started on that bitch Julie, I mean how much sluttier can you dress. We are professionals and she wears the tightest skirts possible and the lowest hanging tops that whenever she just so happens to lean over my Y/N's desk, her tits are nearly falling out."

Hearing this, Ruka started to giggle.

"Don't start Unnie. You are nearly as bad. I mean you know how I feel and yet you constantly are talking to Y/N at his desk and while walking to meetings".

Sensing the change in Ahyeon, Ruka decided to cut off Ahyeon before she said something she might regret.

"Ahyeon, relax. I know how you feel about Y/N, but you need to remember that I am his sunbae just like I am yours and I have known him just as long as you have."

"Sorry Unnie, I know, I just get so worked up about Y/N and I don't know why"

"Well it doesn't help that you've been in love with him since you two were in the 8th grade. Plus you went to middle school together then high school then college and now work together… and you still haven't confessed…"

"He's supposed to! He's the guy Unnie!"

"Ahyeon, you've liked him for over a decade, I think this is equally if not more on you. You also haven't done anything to make it obvious to him and you know Y/N is completely oblivious to anything when it comes to romance. He's only dated 1 girl and that was barely for 3 months when he has been liked by multiple girls between 7th grade and now…"

Staring at Ahyeon, Ruka continued "Oh wait, I forgot something seemed to happen anytime a girl showed any interest in Y/N. Any interest was suddenly dropped. It was almost like someone either scared them off or made sure that every girl knew that Y/N was taken".

Ahyeon simple crossed her arms and muttered "It's not my fault that those girls needed to know that he's mine."

Raising her voice, "They don't understand him like I do and they would've broken up eventually too. Y/N is too in love with me to date anyone long term".

Sighing, Ruka responded to her delusional but well meaning junior "you two are somehow a combination of infuriating, delusional, and the cutest couple ever. Sometimes I regret telling you that Y/N has had a crush on you since the 7th grade as well."

Hearing the word couple, instantly brought a smile to Ahyeon's face. Seeing this, Ruka just sighed and said "God, you and Y/N are the worst. We should probably get going, it's already 10pm and we have a long day tomorrow."

---- The Next Day ---

Walking into the cafeteria, Ruka looks around for Ahyeon so they could sit together and instead she found someone who looked like they were planning a murder.

Approaching her junior, Ruka cleared her throat to try to get Ahyeon's attention before finally speaking "I don't think you are supposed to just stab the salad."

"It's better I stab this salad than that bitch Sian. God she's such a pick me. 'Oh Y/N could you help me print this doc. Oh Y/N you're so good at excel. Oh Y/N you're such a kind and caring sunbae'. Such a phony bitch. I had to sit there grinding away on our project while that whore practically offered herself as a public fuck toy for my Y/N."

Sighing, Ruka tried to calm down her junior "Ahyeon. I love you but I am sure you're overreacting."

"Unnie, I know I normally do; but trust me, this is different. You'll see tonight at the team dinner. That bitch is practically throwing herself at Y/N thinking that she will be able to get him to do all her work and the worst part is that it'll probably work."

"Well if she starts giving him her work or asks for too much help, I'll step in as team lead and make sure she asks someone else for help or does it herself if it's within her abilities".

"Thanks Unnie; but Sian gets too friendly tonight, I have to take things into my own hands"

Hearing this, Ruka just shook her head; but secretly, she hoped that Sian would flirt with Y/N because this decade of mutual pining has taken a toll on her.

--- A few hours and a few drinks later ---

The team had been dropped off by a couple of the companies vans earlier that night and the drinks had started flowing the second they stepped into the restaurant for the monthly team dinner. Most of the team would indulge in a few drinks at these dinners, but the younger employees always seemed to find a way to elevate the celebration to a point where it was almost an HR hazard to keep having them. The team would naturally split into the respective age/hire groups with the older team members huddling together spectating their younger colleagues while the newer and newest hires would often rope in the 2-3 year tenured employees into joining them in indulging in as many free drinks as possible. Each of the new hires had seemingly grabbed a slightly older sunbae to cling on to throughout the night and Sian had decided that Y/N was hers for the night. Ever since they had clocked out, Sian had been inseparable from Y/N. She literally grabbed hold of him on the way out of the building and had not let go of him since. Ahyeon of course instantly noticed this but had done a remarkable job of holding herself back; but that resolve was quickly fading. Ruka could practically see the steam coming out of Ahyeon's ears and decided that it was best for the team (while also being a wing woman for her best friend) to distract Sian for a bit. Walking up to Sian and Y/N, Ruka could see the mixture of happiness and also pure terror in Y/N's eyes from the proximity and amount of physical touch he was having with Sian. "Sian, come chat with me and Asa, we want to hear more about you outside of work. You can hang out with boring old Y/N anytime." "Okay Sunbae, bye Y/N" Sian said before giving a quick peck to Y/N's cheek and following Ruka to talk with Asa.

Giving a sigh of relief after finally getting some separation from your good meaning but clingy junior, you looked around to see what everyone else was doing. You saw your sunbaes gathered as far as possible from you and your fellow young coworkers. Your sunbaes always loved to chat amongst themselves while also spectating their drunk juniors. You also saw a few other teams who had also decided to come here for their monthly team dinner. Finally, your eyes landed on the girl who had lived rent free in your head for almost if not over a decade long, Jung Ahyeon.

She was your middle school, high school, college, and now work crush. You two had first met when you transferred into her middle school in 7th grade and had been smitten ever since. She was the class president so she gave you the tour of their building; but you had to keep asking her simple questions because you couldn't focus due to her beauty and charisma. That crush had stuck with you throughout their schooling and had even intensified when they got to college. Being the beauty and kind hearted person she was, Ahyeon had dozens of guys who were interested and her and all of them were far better than you, so you had never even thought about actually asking her out. Throughout the years, your friends had asked you who he were interested in or who your dream girl was and the answer was always Ahyeon. One night during your Junior year of college, Ruka, who was a year older than you and Ahyeon and who you had also known for a decade, asked you who you were interested in. Being a little more than tipsy, you answered her truthfully and said Ahyeon. Ruka asked why and you started going into detail about how beautiful, kind, etc. Ahyeon was and after 15 minutes of you showing how you had been practically obsessing over Ahyeon, Ruka finally laughed and told you to shut up. The next day, you had woken up in a panic and called Ruka to beg her to not tell Ahyeon about any of what you had said. Ruka told you not to worry about it and after a few days of treading lightly whenever you saw Ahyeon or Ruka, you were finally able to start acting normal again, trusting that Ruka hadn't told Ahyeon about your embarrassing and somewhat obsessive confession.

That was four years ago now. After graduating college, you and Ahyeon had actually joined the same company and team as Ruka. Being the only 2 new hires for that year in the team, you two had gotten closer while still not being super close. You had gone from people who go to school together to close work colleagues or even potentially work friends, although your relationship still hadn't moved past talking in the office or hanging out with each other at work events; but when your eyes landed on her after finally getting some space from Sian, you could tell something was wrong… mostly because it looked like Ahyeon was trying to melt a hole through you. Confused as to what you did wrong, you started to wrack your brain for any fuck ups you had at work that day or if you had taken any of the meat Ahyeon liked while eating dinner; but you couldn't for the life of you figure it out. Suddenly Ahyeon started marching at you like someone ready to start a fight. You were then grabbed by your t-shirt and roughly pulled into the hallway then supply closet of the restaurant.

"Ahyeon, I don't think we are supposed to be in here"

"I don't care Y/N. What the fuck is up with you and little miss princess Sian?"

"Uh, nothing? She's just a coworker."

"Really? Then why has she been holding onto you like a life craft and why are you practically doing her job for her?"

"Woah woah woah Ahyeon. She's just new and hasn't gotten close to anyone. She asked me a question yesterday and after helping her out, she has just had me as her go to person."

"Are you sure its not because you're fucking her? Are you seriously already fucking her? God, why do you fall for the eye fluttering and flirty touches of every woman who works with us. You are such a spineless coward. Falling for anyone who shows you any attention. You know what, screw you Y/N. I can't believe I've been in love with you all these years"

Looking shell shocked, you just stared at your crush of over a decade.

"What Y/N? Too scared to confess that you've been fucking the new hire. She's practically a fetus. Still fresh out of college. She hasn't even been out of school for 6 months".

Not hearing a word she said, you just stared at her like an idiot and said "You're in love with me?"

Clearly annoyed at you, Ahyeon stared at you dumbfounded "Is that seriously all you heard Y/N? Or are you just playing dumb?"

Still not hearing a word she said, you just repeated "You're in love with me?"

Practically ready to blow, Ahyeon spat at you "No, I WAS IN LOVE WITH YOU. I thought you were cute when I gave you that tour in 7th grade and the more I saw you and got to know you throughout the years, that infatuation turned into love; but now it's gone because you can't keep your dick in your pants and you are a pathetic simp".

Not hearing half of what she said, you just looked at Ahyeon and were completely captivated by her beauty. Not sure whether it was the soju or a sudden surge in confidence, you, not thinking, softly raised your hand to her face to cup it. Stunned by your sudden touch, Ahyeon paused her tirade and looked like she was short circuiting. Still moving without an ounce of thought, you moved your other hand to her waist and brought her close before capturing her lips with yours. After breaking out of her stupor, Ahyeon pulled you even closer and responded to your kiss tenfold. Needing to break for air, you and Ahyeon finally separated after what felt like eternity. Still holding her by the waist, you gazed lovingly into Ahyeon's eyes before saying "I love you". Hearing that caused Ahyeon to blush and she started to pull away, but you weren't about to fuck up this opportunity of a life time. Pulling her flush against you, you raised her face so her eyes met yours and said it again "I love you Ahyeon". Seeing your sincerity and the love behind your eyes, Ahyeon took a second before responding "You're an asshole". Confused you loosened your grip on her, sensing this, Ahyeon grabbed your face and smashed her lips against yours again. Stunned, you barely were able to reciprocate before she broke away again. Grabbing your hand, she led you out of the supply closet, through the hallway, past your team, and out of the restaurant.

Still not saying a word to you, but muttering to herself, Ahyeon continued to lead you by the hand through the streets of Seoul before finally coming to an apartment building which she scanned in and led you through the lobby and into one of the elevators. Once the doors closed, Ahyeon was on you like a lion. Pushing you against one of the walls, she practically mounted you while capturing your lips with hers. Trying your best to match her fervor, you put both of your hands on her waist and pulled her closer. Deciding this wasn't enough for her, Ahyeon moved your hands from her waist to her ass and made sure that you had firm grasp of it before letting you take hold alone. After making out for a bit, the elevator finally signaled that it had arrived at her floor. Hearing the noise, Ahyeon let you off the wall, but made sure to grab one of your hands so she could lead you to here apartment. When you two finally arrived at her door, she made sure that you had both your hands on her waist before punching in her code. After inputting the code, she turned and gave you a quick peck before pulling you into her apartment. Letting her lead the way, you walked through her apartment before stopping in her living room. Turning around, Ahyeon looked at you with a mixture of happiness and fear. Sensing that she needed some more reassurance, you grabbed her again by the waist and captured her lips once again with yours. Not wanting this to turn into a full on makeout session, Ahyeon separated from you after a few seconds. Taking a second to look at her in her eyes, you see the fear and happiness melting away and being replaced with something else… lust.

Feeling a renewed sense of purpose and anger, Ahyeon once again grabbed you by your shirt and dragged you into her bedroom before shoving you onto her bed. Landing on her bed, you are then met with the sight of a lust filled Ahyeon. This along with the previous makeout sessions caused your dick to start to harden. Seeing this, Ahyeon smirked before sitting on your lap and straddling you. This only caused you to harden more and you released a slight moan. This caused Ahyeon to start to grind herself on top of you. Deciding that you need take back some control, you flipped yourself and Ahyeon so now she was on her back. Taking a second to truly take in the sight of her, you noticed what she had been wearing the entire night. While not inappropriate, it was borderline non work attire. She wore a small black skirt that at the right angle would reveal the bottom of her ass and a tight white button down with a black tie that was begging to be ripped off. Seeing your loss of focus, Ahyeon thrust her clothed core to meet your hardened dick which once again caused you to moan. Deciding you truly had had enough, you ripped off your shirt and pants before starting to strip Ahyeon. Seeing how excited she was for you to do so, you chose to taunt her a bit by slowly dragging down her skirt inch by inch.

"Y/N just take it fucking off"

"Language Ahyeon. I don't want to fuck a foul mouthed whore"

"Listen Y/N, if you don't hurry the fuck up. I will tie you to this bed and will ride you until you can't even think of getting your dick hard".

"Now Ahyeon, how is that supposed to dissuade me". "Fuck you" she replied. "That's the plan babe".

"How about this. The faster I get naked, the faster you get to bury your cock inside of me and the faster you get to see my naked tits. Don't pretend like I haven't caught you staring at my tits or my ass throughout the year… oh and, the faster you get to find out how much of a whore I am for your cock. Maybe I'll even let you fuck my ass tonight".

Hearing this certainly motivated you and you practically tore of her skirt and shirt before actually tearing her panties before struggling with her bra. Seeing you struggle, Ahyeon decided to help you out and unclasped it for you. Seeing her bra drop and her tits barren in front of you, you hovered over her practically panting. Seeing you frozen, Ahyeon rose up enough to meet your ear before whispering "You can suck them you know." Hearing that, you dove face first into her tits before capturing one of her nipples with your mouth and groping the other tit with your hand. Swapping back and forth, you feasted on her tits before finally she had to physically tear you off of them. Annoyed at being separated from your prize, your head was then shoved down past her delectable abs and in front of her neatly shaven cunt. Realizing what she wanted, you slowly moved towards your next feast. Slowly licking down from her abs, you gave her inner thighs some much needed attention before diving in. After a few minutes of burying your head in her cunt, you sensed that her orgasm was approaching. Ahyeon started to pant your name "Y/N, Y/N, Y/N, please" Tearing yourself away from her glorious cunt, you raised your head and said "What babe, what do want". "Please Y/N." "Please what Ahyeon" "Please just fucking make me come" Hearing this you dove back in and started to truly feast on her, burying your tongue so deep that you felt her nearly come from any movement. Coyly moving your right hand in front of her puckered hole, you inserted one finger into her ass right when you captured her clit with your mouth. Feeling this Ahyeon, instantly came and showered your face in her cum. After making sure to lap up her entire orgasm, you removed your finger from her ass and met her face to face. Seeing her dazed, you softly grabbed her face and kiss her, making sure she got a tase of her own release.

After recovering, Ahyeon then slapped your shoulder before kissing you again. "Yah, I didn't say anything about putting a finger in my ass"

"Really? Oh well, because it certainly seemed like you liked it Ahyeon" you cockily responded.

"Whatever Y/N. You're lucky I like you".

"Love honey. Love me"

"Shut up Y/N. Swap spots with me so I can return the favor."

Not wanting to look a gift blowjob in the mouth, you quickly swapped with Ahyeon so now you were laying on your back and she was on top of you. After pulling off your shirt, Ahyeon gave you soft kisses down your chest before hovering over your lap. She then tore your pants off before slowly sliding your underwear off revealing your bare cock which had been hard since you two had made it to the bedroom. Like the little minx she was, she then gave slow, long licks along your hardened shaft causing you to moan like a little bitch. Hearing this caused a smirk to come over her face. "Ahyeon" you groaned. "Ahyeon what, Y/N?" "Ugh, you know what babe" Giving another long lick and cupping your balls, Ahyeon asked you again "What Y/N?" "Fuck you" you angrily spat. "Just say it Y/N" "Fine… please Ahyeon please blow me" you begged. Hearing you final beg, Ahyeon started to take your cock inch by inch. Each inch caused you to moan even louder causing Ahyeon to smirk even more before you finally bottomed out. Ahyeon gave you a second to relax before she fucking her throat on your cock, drooling and letting spit leak out of her mouth. Feeling your orgasm approaching, you gave Ahyeon a warning about your upcoming climax; but hearing this only caused Ahyeon to fuck her throat with your cock even more before finally your orgasm overwhelmed you and you fill Ahyeon’s throat with your cum. Ahyeon, being the good little slut she was, took your entire load drinking it without abandon before letting your cock pop out of her mouth and then opening her mouth to show you that she had swallowed your entire load.

Ahyeon then straddle you and lowered her face right over yours before saying "Don't even think about passing out on me Y/N. I have wanted too damn long for this and I am getting what I deserve". She then captured your lips in a kiss that was filled with both lust and love. You then flipped yourself and Ahyeon again so she was on her back and you were above her. You then softly placed your hand on her check and were about to speak before she beat you to the punch. "Y/N, I love you; but will you for God's sake, stop being a gooey romantic and just bury your cock in my aching cunt". Hearing this along with her grabbing your cock and giving you a handjob got you hard once again. You then positioned your dick in front of her entrance before looking at her for one last bit of reassurance which she gave you by whispering in your ear "Y/N, want to know a secret. You're going to be my first" This got you even harder than you thought possible. She continued "Think about it Y/N. You are going to be the first and only person to fuck Jung Ahyeon. Think about your tight I am going to be then imagine burying yourself in there night after night filling me with your seed. Breeding me over and over again until all I can think about is your cock. And then after you have filled me with so much of your seed that I am leaking, then you get to fuck my ass. That tight little ass that looks so good in mini skirts and leggings. Don't you want to breed my greedy little cunt. Don't you want to fuck my puckered little hole." Finally breaking your resolve, you slowly slid in inch by inch into Ahyeon's waiting cunt, giving her time to adjust to each inch before you finally were fully sheathed in her cocksleeve. Looking at her for reassurance, Ahyeon pulled your face closer to hers saying "Fuck me Y/N. Give my aching cunt your seed and breed me" and capturing your lips with hers. Hearing this, you start to hammer into her waiting cunt like a piston with each thrust causing Ahyeon to moan more and more into your mouth, moving your hands to grab her ass as you fuck her cunt like a madman. After a few minutes, you begging to feel your second orgasm nearing. Sensing this too, Ahyeon wrapped her legs around you to lock in you place and make sure that you couldn't pull out. She then whispered again in your ear "Breed me. Fill your cock slut with your seed and mark me as yours". Hearing that triggered your release and you began to fill Ahyeon's pussy with spurt after spurt of your load. This along with your finger which you had once again sneakily buried in her puckered hole triggered Ahyeon's second release as well. Finally after both of you had the felt the last moments of your respective orgasm leave you, you both glanced down at your combined loads leaking out of Ahyeon's pussy which caused your dick your dick to twitch which Ahyeon immediately felt causing her to moan as well. Finally raising your eyes to meet hers again, you gave Ahyeon once last soft kiss on her lips before you flipped you two over once last time and passed out with your cock in the warmth of her pussy.

--- The Next Day ---

Waking up after a night of intense fucking was nothing like you imagined especially with the girl of your dreams with you. After a few seconds of your blinking your eyes and regaining your awareness, you then become aware again of where you were, what you had done last night, and who you did it with… and also who you were still buried inside. Realizing the situation you were in, you slowly tried to pull your cock out of the tight embrace of Ahyeon's cunt. Feeling the loss of you, Ahyeon's legs were instantly wrapped around you and she once again leg locked you so your cock would remain buried inside of her. Feeling the tight embrace of her pussy once again, your cock started to harden. You then shifted your eyes towards Ahyeon's waiting and annoyed face. "What were you trying to do Y/N? she angrily asked. Stuttering, you respond to her "I was trying to pull out because I was still inside you and I thought that it would be impolite to" You started to say before Ahyeon cut you off. "Y/N, I begged you to not only fuck me but to also breed me multiple times last night. I leg locked you so you wouldn't be able to pull out and then I made sure you were buried inside of me before we passed out… since you clearly are terrible at picking up even the most obvious signs, I want your cock to be buried inside me like the good little cocksleeve I am as often as possible". This statement caused your cock to once again stand at full attention, although this was a little hard being buried in Ahyeon's warmth. Feeling you once again ready, Ahyeon pulled you close to her once again, whispering "Now am I going to need to tell you what to do again or are you finally going to pick up on my signals and take some fucking action". Capturing her lips with yours, you started to makeout with her once again. Tearing her lips away from yours, Ahyeon looked at your angrily and once about to start lecturing you; but before she could, you began to fuck her without abandon and all thoughts left her brain with you two spending the rest of the morning trying your best to catch up on lost time.

[ghouljams]

Hi. I first want to say the Divorced!Price AU is everything. He wasn't even my man to begin with, and then he was. And now I'm just wondering if you have anymore Nik and #8 (i think???) you'd be willing to share.

Something came up today. Can't imagine what...

Nik is everything your ex-husband wanted you to think he was. Not because of his kindness, or his heroics, or even his abilities in bed. Nikolai is a man in every metric that John measured it by, so much so that it makes you wonder if perhaps Nik was his blueprint. He's big and strong, with hair on his chest and a low rumbling voice that makes you weak in the knees, he's a provider, smart, a hard worker. And yet he is nothing like John at all.

Nikolai brings you coffee in the morning when you're still in bed, "Women should be lazy," he murmurs, cupping your hands around the mug, "especially if they have a man to take care of them." John always insisted you get up early to make breakfast, maintained that it was your job to serve him, not the other way around. It feels good being taken care of like this.

You read a book on the beach with Nikolai entertains your toddler, carefully coaxing handfuls of sand out of the tyke's mouth with soft Russian. When your baby waddles over to show you a tightly clutched rock, Nikolai crouches to redirect them from dirtying your pages. "Mamochka is taking little break," he hums, "let's find something pretty for her instead." You wave to your baby, watching them clutch Nikolai's fingers in their hand, and remember John barking at you for every tear, shaming you for your inability to do your job, for taking a break.

"Ah working," Nikolai feels out the word with distain, "you should not need to be working." You remember John saying something similar, trying to strongarm you into staying home, disparaging your career. "You come and work for me," Nikolai says instead, "I will give you money you deserve, good hours too." And it makes you laugh. It's ridiculous. As if you could do what Nik does through sheer force of will. He snaps his fingers, as if he's just gotten an idea, "I will put in daycare too, for baby." You think he only says it because it makes you smile, but he doesn't sound insincere.

"Let me," is Nikolai's constant refrain. Let me take the baby. Let me make dinner. Let me plan an outing, get reservations, clean up, rub your back, let me, let me, let me. You don't know what you'll do once you go home, if you'll forget how to live on your own in so short a time.

Somehow the most malicious thing he can say to you is, "I want to be a man you depend on," and even that doesn't sound so bad.

[rqbossman]

I was thinking about the absolute carnage of towerfall - you were in a plane before, you’re dead; you were on a train or you were in a car travelling 60mph, you’re dead (assuming people are back where they started and travelling the same speed as they were before the Event) - like yeah, utter bloody chaos because the implication is everything (planet included) moved for 6 months but the humans are dropped into the exact latitude and longitude that they were before (consistent velocity to be confirmed) - every road is a pile-up, there are plane crashes everywhere, everyone is ✨horrifically✨ traumatised✨ (the bleakness is so wonderful, I adore it)

I asked before about how Jonny nearly killed billions of people - surely it must’ve been something regarding the consequences of towerfall? Did he want the people to be dropped back into the space they were in (sans planet)?

please do tell 😆

I FINALLY get to tell this story! Yay! Enormous Protocol and Archives Spoliers READER BEWARE: Firstly, you should know that whilst @jonnywaistcoat is a big ideas guy, I am normally the one who ends up going off and actually figuring out how things work in the real world. I'm always ending up saying something like "sure that's creepy but that's not how steam trains work. You need to account for the Stephensen Regulator" etc. This means that when @jonnywaistcoat had thoughts as to how Towerfall worked in early Protocol drafts, I was the one who had to try and make it work. We both wanted to make sure that people could begin to rebuild in a meaningful way rather than going full Mad Max but unfortunately I quickly realised that almost every instinct @jonnywaistcoat had for cataclysms generally lead to the irrecoverable collapse of civilisation and death of basically everyone. For instance, we both felt that the actual Hellscape could have lasted longer (in the order of months, not weeks) but no matter how I tried to bend things to fit that timeline, the truth is that human built infrastructure does not recover well from that length of absence. (at least, not in a way that doesn't kill most people from pestilence, starvation and associated wars.) So we had to make it a bit shorter and thankfully we'd already established there was time dilation at play in Archives. (We actually even experimented with it only lasting 1 day but we both decided that wouldn't hurt enough.) The worst case of this kind of logistical horror however, was about locations. @jonnywaistcoatwas was really enamoured with the idea that everyone would arrive back, not where they had left, but instead clumped according to their fears. I.e. Everyone in the Arachnophobic domain turns up in Australia together, everyone in the Nyctophobic domain turns up in Antarctica etc. so I dutifully went away and ran the numbers and no matter how I tackled it I kept coming to the conclusion that this pretty much kills everyone in less than a week due to the massive logistical collapse it causes. (There's actually a really great examination of this on XKCD) Now don't get me wrong, I was all for getting stuck-in telling the story of the bleakest logistical collapse possible but to quote Jonny "that sounds pretty grim and not in a fun way" so in the end we opted to return people where they left (albeit compensating for planetary movement so that we wouldn't accidentally extinct everyone in the most unsatisfying way imaginable). So there you have it. Technically, technically I saved the world including all your favourite characters from @jonnywaistcoat's insatiable bloodlust. You're welcome.

[abbotsanatomy]

FLUFF ALPHABET !

⨳ jack abbot hcs

pairing: jack abbot x fem!reader wordcount: 2,800 warnings: age gap (28 and 49), some innuendos, it’s pretty sfw! this isn't beta'd. author's note: i’m so obsessed with this silver fox…someone run me over in pittsburgh between the hours of 8PM and 8AM pls! here's the template btw!

A for Admiration What Do They Absolutely Adore About You?

Jack admires your drive. He adores seeing you excel at your field. Whenever you’re passionately rambling on about something, he’s all ears (with actual hearts in his eyes). He’s so proud of your every achievement. Even when you fail, he’s proud of your ability to recover with so much grace.

He’s never necessarily been a proud man, but he can't help but puff his chest up a little more when he watches you do practically anything. Knowing you're all his is enough to turn him into one arrogant fucker.

B for Body What Is Their Favorite Part Of Your Body?

Your hair. He likes to grab ahold of it, and not necessarily in a sexual way. It grounds him. The scent of your grocery store shampoo, mixed with that specific perfume smell that never really leaves your hair, brings him down to earth.

He likes to nose at the strands in the early morning, before getting out of bed, with his arms still wrapped around you. It reminds him you’re really there. The scent your hair leaves behind on his pillow is one he cherishes for days after you sleep over.

bonus: This might seem cheesy, but I definitely think your eyes are a big thing for him. He'd stare into them for hours. Even if you aren't staring back, he just likes to be the first to know exactly how you're feeling. And staring into your eyes is the closest he'll ever get to reading your mind. Plus, they're just so uniquely you, in a way he can't explain but certainly shows every day.

C for Cuddling How Do They Like To Cuddle? Little Spoon or Big Spoon?

His chest pressed all the way against your back, with his arms wrapped tightly around your waist. Only way. He’ll hook a leg over yours if he’s feeling really cuddley.

I think he just likes feeling like you're the only thing there is for a few moments. When he's got his arms wrapped around you, there's nothing else on his mind. The world goes quiet for a while, and he can really zero in on something as little as your every breath, or your every heartbeat, as he rests his palm on your chest.

D for Dates What Does Their Ideal Date With You Look Like?

Your dates are almost always simple. Indian food on the couch. Listening to albums all the way through on his record player, as you enjoy each other’s company. Cooking a meal after work. Playing a game of chess on the board you forgot you owned, which he found under your bed.

He does go all out on special occasions, though. Your birthday, anniversaries, the like. I honestly think he might forget to plan something ahead of time sometimes, but he'd still make something work that day. He's an emergency guy. He'll always be able to pull something together, even if he just has an hour. And he has.

E for Emotions How Do They Express Emotion Around You?

This guy’s so emotionally constipated he needs an enema (medical joke). You are probably the enema! That's a compliment.

He definitely just needs a good push in the right direction. He'll try to deny his feelings for you in the beginning, on account of the age difference, and his glaringly obvious issues with self worth. Eventually, he'll figure it out. He'll let himself feel it, if you help him. He has a lot to unlearn.

A few years into your relationship, he doesn't deny himself any of his emotions around you. You know when he's sad versus happy or if he's had a good day at work versus a very shitty one. It's mainly because he expresses himself better around you, but also because you've learnt all of his cues and quirks. You’re probably the only person he lets see all of him, the good and the bad.

F for Family Do They Want One? If They Do, When?

He’s never really seen a family for himself in the books. If it happens, it happens. He wouldn't ask you to get an abortion or anything like that (or shame you for your decision to get one, obviously), but it'd definitely take a lot for him to open up to the idea. It’d take a lot for him to want it.

Not that he'd be a bad father. On the contrary, I think he'd be so, so gentle and nurturing and loving, in his own way.

He wouldn't like how a family affects his job (bc let's be real, of course it does), but it's just a learning curve he'll get over. He'll deal with needing to change his shifts, or the whole being more on edge than before, whenever he sees children in the ER, but it won't be easy.

G for Gifts How Do They Feel About Gift Giving? What Are Their Habits With Gifts?

He feels gifts should always be sentimental. If they don’t have sentimental value, he doesn’t see the point. This doesn’t mean he wouldn’t buy you anything expensive. He’d definitely buy that hair thing you mentioned, because it’d make your mornings so much easier. He’d buy that ring you eyed in the jewelry store window, as you walked arm in arm at night.

He's just meticulous about the gifts he chooses. And he buys you things at the most random times. He doesn't believe gifts should be exclusive to holidays or special occasions.

It's a habit you learn from him. Anytime something nice reminds you of him, you buy it. And you know he'll do the same.

H for Holding Hands When/How Do They Like To Hold Hands?

Interlocking fingers is reserved for intimate moments in bed or in the kitchen as you sit on the counter, watching him cook dinner.

Every now and again, he'll brush his fingers against yours in passing. It’s all he’ll let himself do in public. It's enough. It steadies your breathing and reminds him you'll always be there. It's become a habit you both cherish.

I for Injury How Would They Act If You Got Hurt?

He deals with all kinds of injuries every single day. If it's something minor, like a fall, he'll still be on edge initially. Until he checks you from head to toe to ensure you're completely fine. Then, he'll crack a little smile and help you up and into his arms for slightly closer observation.

A serious injury is a whole other story. There's a complete shift in his demeanor. It's almost like he's reverted back to his military training. He doesn't let himself feel it in the moment. He focuses solely on your well-being and making sure you're receiving the best care possible.

When it's all over, and he’s safely behind the walls of your apartment, he completely breaks down. You can see him pay closer attention to you, too. He does it for a few days after, until it gets annoying and you beg him to stop baby-ing you. The wording might throw him off, but he backs off when you promise you're fine.

J for Jokes Do They Like To Joke Around With Or Prank You? How?

He may come off as an intense guy, but he is SO unserious. He has an unhinged energy about him that I'm 100% sure makes for the best jokes ever.

When he's off the clock, he's almost unrecognizable with how extremely his energy shifts. He's still broody, but very funny. Maybe it's just because you like him so much, you can never know.

K for Kisses How Do The Like To Kiss You?

Jack kisses like he’s been starved of it. He consumes. His hands everywhere, his mouth pressed to yours until your lips are bruised. His kisses are always an all-consuming experience.

He hasn't always been this way. He's had partners before, he's always been able to control himself in the moment. All of that carefully curated control somehow just dissipates when your lips are on his.

He doesn't usually lean in for a kiss in public. I don't see him being big on PDA. If he's desperate, he'd love a quick peck until he can actually have the real thing for as long as he needs. It’s just what he prefers.

L for Love Language How Do They Show They Love You?

Acts of service, words of affirmation, and physical touch! In that order.

Little, subtle touches throughout the day keep him afloat. Every touch, no matter how small, is a little gesture he pours his entire being into. He'd be lying if he said each brush against your arm or hand on your shoulder doesn't make him want more, but he couldn't live without any of it.

He's not great with his words. He can't write you poems or monologue about how much he loves you. So, he does the next best thing. He praises you. Constantly and consistently. "You look gorgeous," "You nailed that," and "You're doing so great," are regular phrases in his daily vocabulary for you. You've heard them so often, they're embedded in your psyche. That’s exactly his goal. He wants to say these things so often you really, truly believe them. Because he sure as hell does.

The place he truly finds himself in your relationship is when he's doing things for you. His time is valuable, and he loves spending it on making you happy. He makes your coffee in the morning. He cleans out your apartment when you're too busy to take care of it. He takes care of you when you're sick (obvi). Or gives you head.

He spends all day taking care of people, so the fact that he's more than willing to do it all over again when he gets home isn't just any small thing. Every action is meaningful and intentional. I mean, he's literally a universal giver (O-), need I say more? It's in his blood.

M for Memory Favorite Memory Together?

Hands down, the moment he realized he wanted to marry you. Ironically, it wasn't anything romantic. You were both out on a coffee date, when a kid started choking on a piece of candy. You flawlessly performed the Heimlich Maneuver, as he talked you through it.

The way you carried yourself, the way you didn't hesitate to help, the way you stayed calm through it all and listened to his every order, trusting him completely. It reminded him of all of the reasons he loves you. He couldn't have chosen anyone better to spend the rest of his life with.

A close second is probably the one time you took a warm bath together at a hotel in Aspen, overlooking the snowy mountains. Can you blame him? Moment like that only happens once, especially with your incredibly busy schedules.

N for Nightmare What Is Their Worst Fear?

You ending up in his ER.

In any context, but mainly you ending up in his ER and then needing to be wheeled out for surgery. He'd be completely helpless. Your life would be in someone else's hands. He hates the thought of it.

O for Oddity What Is One Quirk They Have?

SO MANY QUIRKS. This man is a vet. The things he's learned are very difficult to unlearn. Working in the ER really reinforces all of these habits, too.

He eats so quickly, you think he'd choke, if he wasn't so simultaneously careful. It's like he's expecting to be called away to care for a dying patient at any moment. Even if you're just sitting at the dinner table at home with a nice, home-cooked meal. He can't help but scarf it down so quick it's gone before you're even half way done with yours.

On that same note, he sleeps anywhere and everywhere. He's catching Zzzs no matter what. He can sleep with the TV on at full volume. Or in the car on the way somewhere. He can sleep with the curtains fully pulled back and the sun shining in his eyes. It's impressive, truly. It's a survival tactic, though. It isn't sustainable. You have to pull him away from it. Whenever you’re around, you close the curtains or turn off the TV. You hold him close and make sure he's comfortable. Sometimes he thinks you've ruined him, because he's begun to find it a lot more difficult to sleep right away after a shift, without you there.

P for Pet Names What Do They Like To Call You?

Jack's never been a pet name kind of man. It's weird, because it just seems like they slip out of his mouth, before he can help it, whenever he's around you. He calls you honey, because you're so sweet it makes his teeth ache. He calls you gorgeous, because you are and it makes his head spin.

Q for Quality Time How Do They Like To Spend Time With You?

In the most mediocre ways possible. Privately.

Doing laundry at home, cooking up a recipe you found online, cuddling in bed. He likes the domesticity of it all. Plus, he doesn't get a lot of time with you. So when he does, he wants you all to himself.

R for Rhythm What Song Reminds You Of Them?

No comment.

It isn't even necessarily a good song. You probably just came across it one day on TikTok and sent it to him to get his reaction. He probably gives you shit for it constantly. But he’s well aware of how hot you find the age gap, don't need a song to prove it.

S for Secrets How Open Are They With You?

Very open! No filter. It took time for him to get there, but he sees you as his second half, truly. There's virtually nothing he'd keep from you.

He doesn't like to talk a lot about his job in great detail, though. He doesn't want to upset you. It wouldn't be a secret, but he wouldn't bring any of it up unprovoked.

T for Time How Long Does It Take You To Get Together?

A long time. He had some issues to overcome before he could fully embrace a relationship with you. He still made it very clear he was into you, he just wasn't sure he'd be able to commit, so he didn't want to lead you on.

Jack might've also felt like a creep, being with someone so much younger. He has friends with kids as old as you. He weirded himself out thinking about things like that, but every time he looked at you he was met with the reality that you are, without a doubt, a grown woman. Gorgeous. And grown. Eventually, he got over it. After a lot of encouragement from you.

U for Upset How Do They Act When You’re Upset With Them?

He GROVELS. He loves you. You know this, without a shadow of a doubt.

He's just afraid you might stay upset with him long enough to forget it. He can't lose you. So, he lets go of any pride and dignity he has left and grovels better than anyone has ever groveled. It always works.

V for Vaunt What Are They Proud Of? Do They Like To Show You Off?

YES! He constantly tells you how proud he is of you. You think you could just wake up and roll over onto your side, and he'd give you endless praises for your technique.

He definitely loves showing you off. He's confident in the fact that you both belong exclusively to each other, so he doesn't mind letting people see it too. He's just private with his gestures. It's a vulnerability thing. PDA just doesn't feel good to him.

W for Warrior How Do They Feel About You Fighting? Would They Fight For You? Beside You? Etc.

If it comes down to it, and you're assaulted on the job or something, he's ready to fight. He logically doesn't want to be violent towards anyone, but it'd just be instinctual in the moment. He's more focused on caring for you and making sure you're alright afterwards.

X for X-Ray How Well Are They Able To Read You?

Very well. He's taken the time to learn your habits, your cues, and your body. There's just this unspoken language that flows between you. Both of you can communicate so much with just your eyes, or your subtle touches.

He can point out even the smallest changes in your demeanor, and predict your mood changes very successfully. That isn't the most impressive part, though. The fact that he can take you from crying hysterically to smiling in under ten minutes is.

Y for Yes How Would They Propose To You?

Very casually. Probably in a spur-of-the-moment type of way.

He'd probably blurt the question out during dinner one day. Or while you're in bed, sharing a cigarette.

He uses the moment to gauge your reaction and then plans something sentimental and big for later. He thinks it should feel a little more official. You find it endearing that he asked before he even bought a ring.

Z for Zen What Makes Them Feel Calm?

Your voice. He's so glad you're always a phone call away. You've gotten him through a great deal of panic attacks over the phone. He's fallen asleep listening to you talk about your day on the couch one too many times.

You always know what to say. Your voice always has this calm and collected cadence to it, which leaves him amazed. It's a direct contrast to his time in the ER. He needs it more than he could ever tell you.

author's note: i apologize for the medical jokes. please forgive me.

[strawberrysznn]

THE secret of every "effortlessly perfect" girl

You are NOT dumb, ugly, unskilled, or unlucky. Greatness comes with effort. Girls that seem effortlessly perfect are the ones who put the most effort into themselves. The key to being the best version of yourself is simple but overlooked.

Be the best version of yourself with only 5 steps.

1. Believe that you can so that you will.

Again, you are NOT dumb, ugly, unskilled, or unlucky. Want to be the best version of yourself? Believe that you can be the best version of yourself so that you will be the best version of yourself. Doubting yourself and thinking, "Oh, my capabilities are only up to here" or "Oh, I could never be one of those amazing girls" will only bring you down. Believing and convincing yourself that you have potential will actually help you reach your fullest potential. Most importantly, you don't need a lot of money to be better.

2. Accept you need to put effort.

Accept that you have to get up and make some effort. You have to work hard, invest in yourself, build yourself up. Stop waiting, stop seeking for perfectionism, stop delaying. Waiting will not help you, it'll make you feel worse about yourself. There's no right time, only time and what you do with it. There's no perfect progress or a perfect day, just the effort of trying to be consistent. There's no better time to start other than now.

3. Habit-stacking.

Build and stack beneficial habits one by one. For example, drink a glass of water first thing in the morning. Then once you're consistent, make it a habit to not open your phone immediately when you wake up. Slowly stack your habits until you've trained yourself in effortlessly putting effort into yourself.

4. Find your pace.

You can never be your best version of yourself overnight. It takes time and effort -- lots of it. Don't overwhelm yourself by throwing so many goals and tasks all at the same time at yourself. Instead, find a pace that works for you, divide your goals / tasks, and focus on only one or very few of them at a time. For example, for the next 2 weeks, focus on only getting up at an early hour and lessening your screen time. Then after that, spend another 2 weeks getting exercise daily.

5. Consistency vs Perfectionism.

No one is completely consistent on the first try. We fail, we forget, we make mistakes, but that's okay. If you missed, why would you miss even more? For example, you didn't wake up at the time you wanted to. Why would you tell yourself to try again next week when you can try again tomorrow? If you spilled water on yourself accidentally, would you spill more water on yourself? Build consistency over time, don't seek for perfectionism. You messed up your diet today? Then try again tomorrow. Just because you made a mistake or something interrupted your flow doesn't mean it doesn't work for you, it means you need to try again. Be consistent in trying and making an effort, not in having perfect progress.

The best gift you could ever receive is you. Yourself. Treasure that gift and put effort into taking care of it.

[pasta-in-the-pudding]

Dude I got u for bg3 requests-

So like imagine a tav that can draw and they’re just sketching whatever and astarion comes up behind them like “lol who’s that twink do u have a crush or something?” And everyone loses it cuz it’s him.

I’ve seen some like these where they’re all angsty and some fluff but I think everyone would lose their shit. Specifically picturing Gale choking in the background because astarion is making fun of tavs dreamy portraits of himself.

Ive never done an ask before idk how these work I give u full creative liberty 😚

Summary: Reader likes drawing Astarion, who is oblivious to the fact that it's him! Campmates lose it and try to play matchmaker a little bit.

Genre: Pure tooth rotting fluff

Warnings: Astarion things

Credits: All characters are from Bg3, Vampire fang divider- animatedglittergraphics-n-more on tumblr, Blood divider- strangergraphics on tumblr

A/n: Ahhh! I'm so excited to be your first ever request! I hope this is to your liking and I apologize for it taking me so long to get around to it

Thank you so much for requesting!!

During the long trip to Baldur's Gate, finding ways to keep your mind occupied when you stopped became a necessity. Thankfully, pretty early into your travels you managed to get your hands on a (mostly) empty drawing journal after finding it abandoned along with some helpful supplies. It didn't take long for you to find that you had some sort of muscle memory for drawing, even if you couldn't consciously remember ever being an artist, your brain seemed to. You started out just drawing what you saw. Flowers, buildings, landscapes, etc. But pretty soon you drifted to drawing your campmates as well. At first it was a little mix of everyone, but as your trip carried on you couldn't help but be drawn (hehe) to a certain fluffy haired rogue. As your mind lingered on him more and more, so did your pencil. You had filled numerous pages with sketches and doodles of him. Sometimes he'd catch you staring at him while trying to get a good reference, and he'd of course smirk and say something like "Enjoying the scenery, darling?" To which you would flush red and bury your face back into your sketches.

Every now and then, someone would glance over your shoulder to see what you were scribbling (usually Karlach) and tease you for how full your sketchbook had gotten with just him. You didn't mind them watching you draw, sometimes it felt nice to have someone admiring your skills.

This however, was not one of those times.

"My, who is that handsome devil?" Astarion's voice rings out from behind you. You squeeze your eyes shut as you realize you've been caught and curse yourself for not hearing him sneak up behind you. Astarion is now leaning against your shoulder, studying the pictures in front of him. "Now darling, I know I say this about every gorgeous stranger but would." He lazily flips the page and lets out a little giggle "And you would too by the looks of it," He returns back to your current page and sits beside you. "So, will you tell me the story or will you make me beg? You know I'm an expert on romance." It's only then do you realize he genuinely doesn't realize that you are drawing him. You thought before he was just being smug, but it does make sense. When was the last time he saw himself? 300 years ago? Surely the memory is a bit fuzzy. You try to act as nonchalant as possible as you mutter "Mm...Maybe some other time..." Astarion scoffs and you pray to any god willing to listen to help you out. Your prayer is answered when Gale makes the call for dinner being done. You quickly shove the book into your pocket and (perhaps a bit too swiftly) walked over to the fire.

The topic is seemingly dropped by Astarion until Shadowheart remarks that "Your face is redder than Karlach's," Astarion is quick to interject. "I caught them drawing some shirtless man and they're being a big baby about it." He rolls his eyes dramatically before adding "Trust me darling, I've seen worse." Gale chokes on his stew, Halsin's brows raise and Shadowheart lets out a small gasp. The camp is deadly quiet, save for Astarion making snarky comments about how the man looks like something a 13 year old would find incredibly romantic. Karlach is the one to break the silence, "Fangs, do you really not know who that is?" He raises a brow "Of course not. What, is he famous or something?" Lae'zel lets out a scoff. "Chk. It is a wonder how you survive being so clueless. That is you, you k'chakhi."

The silence, once again, is incredibly loud. This time though, Astarion has seemingly lost his witty remarks. You have long since had your head down, afraid to see his face. He, however, is more confused than anything. After a moment he speaks again, "Is it really?" They all give some form of approval, a nod, a grunt, etc. He is quiet again, but only because he is taking a moment to grin. "Well no wonder there are so many! Obviously it's me. No face other than mine fit to take up so much space in our dear Tav's book. Let me see another, I haven't beheld my beauty in so long!"