#but PLEASE if anyone knows anything about working out

[beloveds-embrace]

Continuation to dragon price and chubby reader please 🙏😞

Diluc pfp i love u

Original Post

John Price is not a patient man. Not when it comes to things that are his.

And you, sweetheart, are already his. You just don’t know it yet.

He’s been careful, methodical, weaving his presence into your life like an unshakable constant. He’s a fixture in your mornings, a reliable shadow at your counter, and whether you know it or not, you’ve begun to expect him. Your smile comes easier when you see him, your eyes seeking him out. You chat with him without hesitation, your voice warm and sweet, and he tucks every detail away, hoarding even the very sound of you, the shape of your words like a dragon collects gold.

But it’s not enough.

Not when you’re still here, in this little café, where anyone can walk in and see you, talk to you, try to take what is his. It sets his teeth on edge, his tail twitching, scales bristling beneath his clothes when he catches another man watching you too long. They linger at the counter, pretending they don’t notice the way his gaze darkens, the way his body shifts ever so slightly toward you in silent, possessive warning.

They don’t see it. But you do.

He knows you notice. How could you not? He’s big in ways that command attention, and though he reigns in the more fearsome parts of himself unless needed, there’s an undeniable weight to his presence, something that makes you still for half a second before recovering with that soft smile.

But he doesn’t miss the way your eyes flick to him when someone stands too close, or how you visibly relax when he’s near. He doesn’t miss how, even if you don’t understand why, you seem to gravitate toward him.

Good.

His plan is simple; You like him- he knows you do. He can smell it, if he wouldn’t even consider anything else. You trust him, at least enough to lean into his presence when you’re uncertain. And that’s all he needs to start pulling you in.

“You work too much, love.” He comments one morning, leaning on the counter as you prepare his tea. You laugh, shaking your head. Today, you’ve forgobe your usual uniform pants and are wearing a skirt instead. It cups the soft mound of your belly, your love handles, and John has never felt hungrier in all his life.

“Says you.”

He smirks, but his gaze doesn’t waver. “I mean it. You’re always here.”

You hum, shrugging. “It’s my job.”

“I’d wager you don’t take much time for yourself,” he says, and when you look up at him, brow raised, he tilts his head, voice dropping into something lower, warmer, that has you ducking your head and a shy smile blooming on your pretty face. “Let me take you out, love.”

The words settle between you, heavy and inevitable. You blink, momentarily caught off guard, before you offer him a shy nod.

“As a thank you for the tea?” You tease.

“As a thank you for puttin’ up with me, lovie.”

It’s playful, easy, but the way he looks at you makes your breath hitch. You chew your lip, glancing at the line forming behind him.

“I- ”

“I’ll pick you up after your shift,” he cuts in smoothly, already knowing your answer. Already knowing you won’t say no.

And you don’t.

The first outing is simple; desserts at another place, something neutral, something easy. He doesn’t overwhelm, doesn’t push, but he watches. He takes note of how you react to him outside of work, how you lean into his warmth without realizing it, how your eyes soften when he pays for your food without a second thought- and he makes note of which ones are your favorite.

The next time, it’s dinner. And the time after that, it’s a night drive to the hills, where he lets you see a glimpse of him, of the way his eyes gleam in the dark, the way his wings spread beneath the moonlight.

And through it all, he talks about his boys. About Johnny, who would adore your laugh, who would try to make you smile every second of the day. About Kyle, who would charm you effortlessly, but who would love you with a quiet steadiness that would never waver. About Simon, who would linger in your periphery until you beckoned him closer, who would tuck you into his arms and keep you there like a secret only he was meant to hold.

He speaks of them as though they are already yours. As though you are already theirs.

And when he finally invites you to his home, to the place where his hoard waits, it’s not a request.

It’s a confirmation.

“Come with me,” he murmurs, his fingers brushing over your wrist, reverent, aching, and hungry. He’s been so patient. His boys have been so patient, even if they pore over ever little slip of you he brings home. He could have been forceful and you’d never would have been able to fight back against him- but he didn’t. You don’t deserve such treatment unwarranted, and John has lived a long life- darlings like you always folded, anyways.

“Come home, love.”

[juyeoz]

SOFT SPOT — HAN TAESAN

SYNOPSIS — To the eyes around you all, you and Taesan are enemies. You hate anything to do with each other and recoil at the mention of your names. However, behind closed doors, you two are completely different — inseparable. Clearly, Taesan and you will go to an extent to keep your relationship private.

PAIRING — fake-enemy-but-boyfriend!taesan x gn!reader

CONTAINS — kissing, corny love birds Likee i kinda recoiled when writing some lines, and literally just fluff.

WORDCOUNT — 1007 words

NOTE — soph sent that taesan pic and our lives were changed……..and this fic was born duhhh!!!!

“Absolutely not!” You exclaim and spin around in your chair after hearing a few words leave your superior's mouth.

Mr. Lee looks taken aback by your response. Yes, everyone knows about the ongoing battle between both Taesan and you, but your reactions to each other’s names being mentioned never fails to catch them all off guard. 

In the office, you and Taesan never get along. It's been this way since the beginning of your careers. 

Yes, you two have taken a liking to one another since you met, but you couldn’t let anyone else at work know about it, so you played it off as enemies. 

Well, you two at least pretended to want to do nothing with each other to make things less obvious. 

The “enemies” title was given by your coworkers.

Therefore, working with each other is never an option. You “can’t” even stand being in the same room as him, making working in the office a “terrible” experience.

“I won’t work with him.”

“Please, the two of you are the only free ones. We need this proposal by tonight.” Mr. Lee explains with a pleading gaze.

“Then I’ll work on it alone. I don’t need his help.” You say while collecting your scattered papers on the surface of your desk.

“That won’t do.” 

“And why is that?” 

You stack your papers into a pile and turn off your computer in a swift motion as Mr. Lee sighs from behind you.

“It’s too much for one person to handle. With his help, you’ll surely get it done.” He crosses his arms over his chest as you snicker.

Is he looking down on you right now?

“Whatever that means,” you begin and stand up from your seat, with your papers in hand. 

“I’ll work overtime. It can’t be that hard.”

Although it has only been three hours since you uttered those words, you surely are regretting them now.

There you sit, staring at a blank document showcased on your monitor. No matter how long you sit in silence, nothing is coming to your mind. 

Brain fog is after you, and clearly, it doesn't need to try so hard to catch up.

The longer you waited for something, a starting sentence, words — even an overall idea to come to your mind, the more and more workers left. The sun is starting to set, casting an orangey light on your belongings.

In distress, your hands pull at your strands as you let out a groan of frustration. 

You should have listened to what Mr. Lee suggested, but you couldn’t let your relationship become known.

Everyone is used to both you and Taesan rejecting any projects that have to do with one another, so, if you switched up, would they have questioned it?

It sucks, really. You want to spend time with your boyfriend at work, but there are too many eyes on the two of you. To be honest, you can’t even recall why you chose to keep your relationship a secret. It could be because of the awkward tension that would come if you two ever break up and everyone knew about it.

That is a possibility.

The only times you two interact romantically are in the break room when you coincidentally both end up there at the same time. The teasing glances that make your eyes lock with one another and break out into a smile. Or when he secretly leaves anonymous sticky notes on your desk belongings.

Other than that, there is nothing. However, despite that, things will be seen eventually. 

“What’s worrying your pretty mind, love?” A voice approaches you from behind, instantly calming your tense figure due to the familiar warming tone. 

It’s Taesan — your loving boyfriend and so-called workplace enemy.

“A proposal.” You inform as Taesan’s hands slide down from your shoulders and his chin rests on your head.

“Is it the one Mr. Lee suggested we do together?” He asks and you hum in response.

“Why’d you say no? I would be more than glad to help you.” 

“It’ll draw too much attention if I agree, no?” Your head begins to turn to look his way, causing him to rise from his resting position. He looks down at you and smiles while you look up at him.

“That’s too bad.” Taesan begins, then leans down to give you a short and sweet kiss on the lips, which you happily return. 

“If it didn’t, then I could’ve done that many times during work hours instead of after hours.” He teases while your face becomes slightly flushed.

“Why don’t I just help you now? I mean, there’s nobody around…” The boy suggests as your hands lower into your lap.

“Would you actually?” 

“Of course. Here, let’s have a food break first. You seem too overwhelmed by everything to even continue your supposed brainstorming process.” 

You roll your eyes at what he truly meant — your flustered expression — and rise up from your seat for him to lead the way to the break room. 

“A coffee will do?” Taesan questions and you nod. 

“That and your presence, of course.” You reply, giving him another kiss on the cheek once you reach his side.

“Hey.” He stammers out because of the sudden warmth on his cheek. Now, it’s his turn to be left a blushing mess.

“Only I can catch you off guard with a kiss.” He says and you laugh while interlocking your hand with his. 

Out of nowhere, his thumb rubs against the skin of your hand — a reflex he has whenever he intertwines your fingers with his own.

You hum at his words, pondering on his new sudden rule.

“Doesn’t that seem unfair?” Your brow raises as you say your question and look over at the boy interrogatively. Taesan looks back at you, holding eye contact with no signs of breaking it and smiles.

“Not at all.” Taesan replies to your question.

Best believe, after his words, you earned yourself another kiss on the lips for him to prove whatever point he had.

© JUYEOZ

BOYNEXTDOOR PERM TAGLIST — @ancnymcnzjy @miumura @ilovedallywinston @i03jae @borednia @s0shroe @leehanwish @sol3chu @en-dream @ribbeoms @itsactuallylina @macapunoz @hollxe1 @r1kification @mensisim @mydearyeseo @sunghxxnie @taesanfav @wonzzziezzzz @ijustwannareadstuff20 @tanghuyuj @ranjupotato @mimimimiaa @ningizuo @hyunjinslongasslegs

[bunny-jpeg]

hi!, could i please get churros, nanaimo bars and honey cruller with a side of milkshake and dark hot chocolate with oscar piastri?

bakery menu

hey that was quite the hiatus! happy to be back. i spent the holidays trying to figure out how to make a comeback with the bakery prompts. they'll still be scattered in with my other fics, but i hope you enjoy 'em! a little break is never a bad thing and i hope that you've been enjoying my other fan fics! i wanted to start with smaller orders to get back into the groove, but i'll work up to the lovely bigger orders ya'll have sent! thank you anon and i hope you enjoy <3

churros: "if you don't shut that little mouth of yours, i will stuff it full. okay?" + nanaimo bars: "who's my pretty girl? c'mon say it." + honey cruller: "i forget how small you are sometimes." + milkshake: size kink + dark hot chocolate: sub!reader served by oscar piastri (formula one)!!

tags: smut/pwp, established relationship, stress relief, oral sex (oscar receives), car sex, dirty talk

sometimes racing felt like hitting his head against the wall. another week, another messy weekend. he was so close, but advised to let lando over take him. oscar honestly hated it sometimes.

they were friends, but lando always seemed to get the spotlight more. he was currently barrelling towards the wdc, and oscar felt like he was being left behind. a seat filler without much to give.

the anger brewed into something else inside of the normally gentle oscar. when you were talking to him on the drive back to the hotel. he made a remark that sent a hot feeling through you, "if you don't shut that little mouth of yours, i will stuff it full. okay?"

his eyes went wide and before he could say anything, you replied, "promise?"

oscar parked the car quickly, pulled into a quiet car park. he was thankful for his tinted windows as he put the car in park and turned it off. he said, "i'm sorry, i don't know-"

he never spoke to you like that. but you weren't scared of him, instead he knew that you were fairly flustered at his words. he reached to touch your cheek and instead you leaned in to kiss his inner wrist.

"don't worry about it, oscar. you're stressed out. i was near the pit wall when i heard them make the call... you feel bad." you said lovingly. you placed a hand on his thigh, close to his cock and added, "you should lose more if it makes you dirty talk like that."

oscar was able to relax and then leaned in across the gear shift to kiss you on the lips. he was able to cup most of your jaw with his larger hand. he asked, "do you like the dirty talk?"

you nodded as he held your cheeks in his hand. your lips forced to pout as he held you a little tighter. he chuckled lowly and thought it was beyond adorable.

he kissed your lips and said, "i forget how small you are sometimes." he knew that you liked your size difference, while it wasn't the largest gap anyone has seen. his slightly taller frame and bigger hands made you feel safe in his grasp.

"oscar." you said softly.

he chuckled and kissed your lips tenderly. he held you face, letting you feel close to him. he soon pulled away and said, "honey, why don't you help me relieve a little stress... we're all alone here. look at you, so pretty. who's my pretty girl? c'mon say it." there was a slight tease to his tone that made your cheeks heat up.

"fuck." you exhaled deeply. it was erotic, you had to admit it. you moved your hands to his jeans and started to work his belt. you licked your lips and made eye contact with briefly before you got the belt undone. you asked softly, "

"no one else i'd rather make headlines with." he said lovingly before he kissed your cheek, "i think we're okay. i'll keep an eye out. you just focus on getting me off."

you got his cock out of his pants then leaned in to kiss the tip. you rubbed your thighs together even with the awkward angle that came with giving oral sex in a car. you kissed the tip softly before you wrapped your lips around it and sank down as deep as you could allow yourself.

you didn't want to choke on his cock. you were spurred on by his soft noises. even when he was angry, he still was painfully sweet. you moved your head up and down, you kept your pace steady and you tried to play with the head as you slid up and down.

"do you want dirty talk, baby?" he asked softly.

you nodded as you looked up at him. he patted your soft hair and held onto the back of your neck loosely. the feeling of his large hand on the back of your neck made your core soaked and goosebumps run down your legs. you shivered and he applied a little more pressure on his hold of you while you orally pleasured him.

"oh i bet you love that." he said, "the best stress relief i could have. they always say exercise or a massage, something. but, my best way to relief stress is to have you between my legs. have you choking on my cock. letting me do it in a car park, what a dirty girl. what would everyone think? they barely think we have sex!" he chuckled lightly. he licked his lips at the sight of you taking him, "but we get up to a lot, right? back home, you and i. i remember those weekends, how good you looked on top of me."

you moaned a little bit and he chuckled softly. you moved your head faster and oscar exhaled deeply from the feeling of your tongue on his cock. you anchored yourself on his thighs as your drool dripped down to his balls, wetting his briefs.

he held onto your hair for better hold of you. your curls in his hair hand as he moved your hips a little to push his cock just a little further into your mouth. he felt the shudder of want through him as the pleasure continued to mount in him.

your eyes fluttered shut as you focused more of your attention on his cock. your lips were slick with the gloss your wore, but it was coming off due to the saliva that was painting them now.

"baby." oscar cooed as he played with your hair.

the pleasure continued to grow in him. it mounted in his core as you pleasured him. you looked beautiful rested up against him. even if the position wasn't the most comfortable. but, he knew that once you got back to where you were staying for the weekend, that he'd take proper care of you. any pleasure you gave him, he would return five times over.

while he still felt the stress in his body, it was nothing that couldn't be fixed with your thighs wrapped around his head. he moaned a little bit and bit back a louder one that followed, "you take me so good. remember when we started having sex, you've only gotten better with each time we fuck. i'm so lucky to have you." he swallowed as he rested further against the leather car seat.

you let out a sweet moan as his cock nudged against your throat. you continued to move your head and even with the slight ache in your jaw, you continued. you wanted to get him off. soon after you took your mouth off of him and jerked his cock with the same energy. you panted heavily as you said, "you're my champion, oscar. even if no one else on the team sees it. i do." you looked at him and leaned up to kiss him on the lips.

he moaned into the kiss and hissed through his teeth when your mouth went back on his cock and you continued to pleasure him. the momentum of lust only picked up further in his body. he swore under his breath as he felt on the edge of orgasm.

you played with the tip against your tongue and he pushed you down further quickly as he came down your throat. you let out a squeaky moan, your mouth full of his cock as he finished. you pulled your head away and swallowed the salty taste in your mouth.

oscar's hand was on your face as he asked softly, "are you okay?" even with all the dirty talk, oscar was still the sweet, kind boyfriend you fell in love with. when you nodded he kissed you on the lips. "good." he said afterwards.

he put his cock back into his pants and patted you on the thigh before he started the car to leave the lot. his hand found your thigh and kept it there like it belonged there. he said simply when he pulled back to the main road, "when we get back. i hope you're ready for more dirty talk. because there's so much more i want to do." <3

[fairestwriting]

Hello 👋 could I please request headcanons for leona's fem s/o defending him everytime one of the other characters start making backhanded comments to his face (if you've seen some of the vignettes you'll know what I mean) she doesn't reveal things like he's depressed or anything (tho he is) she just tells them it's shitty of them calling him lazy/selfish constantly without even knowing him personally

[Everyone treats leona like crap and I take personal offense to it >:( ]

You know i make fun of him on a regular basis. but theres a line thats gotta be drawn when it comes to leona bullying. cause damn this guy needs a real Break he cant even have issues in peace

𐙚 Leona Kingscholar

Before you got closer to him, there’s a fair chance the comments didn’t even stand out to you at all. It always felt a little unfair, yes, but not in a way that was particularly shocking, they were all just rude comments like any other. Back when you weren’t quite friends yet, and maybe even at the start of your friendship, you might have interjected with a simple ”hey, he’s not that bad” or "you don’t need to be rude about it”. It was just a gesture of basic politeness then, something the people around you seemed to lack.

But obviously, your perception of those interactions, and the way you see Leona’s situation itself, soon went through a rather radical change. Possibly even before you two started dating, or even before he “told you too much” — His own words, mumbled dismissively but bitterly, the day he came back after spending a weekend with his family and then proceeded to complain for a little longer than usual — As he warmed up to you, you started to notice things about him more. You started to see the spark of actual passion he has in his eyes during his club activities, the level of detail he gets into when analyzing things, the precise way he moved his chess pieces when you two played...

Above all, though, you started to notice how he often looked actually tired when he took part in any of the “slacking” he’s so infamous for. Learning the littlest bit more about his family life just worked as the final piece of the puzzle you’d been putting together without even noticing — And then, other people’s “rudeness” started to sound like something much more cruel. It didn’t help that he never seemed to react to it whenever he overheard others gossiping, or whenever you told him about the things you heard. “Why doesn’t he care?” The thought would echo in your mind for ages, trying to understand him through the tiny slivers of vulnerability he didn’t mean to show.

Now, as his girlfriend, you feel you just can’t let people say whatever they want, and you feel it more strongly than you ever have. ”Why don’t you mind your own business instead of talking about someone you don’t really know?” You snap back on instinct when one of your classmates, who was in Savanaclaw, comments on how lazy their dorm leader is. Their mouth closes instantly, regardless if you’ve made your relationship public or not — You realize that, on top of all the negative treatment Leona got, it was also extremely rare for others to defend him in any way at all. Enough that even a response that simple elicits shock from others.

”You know, it’s crazy to see you hanging out with Leona like that. I never thought I'd see anyone get so excited to spend time with him.” You hear some other day, while spending time in Savanaclaw’s common area, sat right next to Leona, and it just makes your blood boil. He’s just half-glaring at your particularly cocky acquaintance, sighing like he’s heard it a million times before, which you know he probably has. ”Hey, make sure you don’t get too influenced, we don’t need another person who just sleeps all day—”

”Yeah, you’re right. This type of person can be such a pain. I’m so glad I don’t know anyone who’s, you know, actually like that.” You say through grit teeth, just barely holding back aggression, and in the corner of your vision, the subtle flash of surprise in Leona’s face only encourages you to continue. ”Imagine if like, the Magift team had this sort of player in it… the club would be done for.”

They stare at you with wide eyes, having very much picked up on the aggression. The entire room is silent, you refuse to break eye contact, arms firmly crossed. ”Well, I mean…” The student stammers, but then, Leona himself speaks up for once. ”Did you not get her message? You need me to tell you to shut up instead?” He snaps, and they frantically shake their head, eyes fixed on the ground. You feel pride swelling in your chest, almost unable to hold back your smile.

”You know, Herbivore, if I needed a bodyguard I’d already have one.” He tells you later, in that same day. His tone has that snarky edge that feels like his default, but it’s much less pronounced than usual. You can even see a sort of softness in his eyes while he tries to play it cool. But needing and deserving are two different things, you think. As interactions like these repeat, with you defending him every time, you hope your message fully gets through to him, one day.

if you like my work you can support me by commissioning me or tipping me on ko-fi ── ᵎᵎ ✦

[mastermindmiko]

Finally

Pairing: Sirius Black + Reader

Summary: Sirius reunites with his girlfriend after many years in Azkaban

Word count: 1.5k

Warnings: None, I believe, but lmk

Hey! If you think this didn't completely suck, feel free to check out my masterlist

The ministry’s guards have been following me around for the last two days. They follow me to work and back to my home. There is a guard positioned in front of my office that stays there, surveilling anyone going in or out. I’m sure they’d have one at my home, if I didn’t so clearly state my distaste for the idea, going on a small rant about my rights. 

I wish I could’ve said that I was unexpecting of be pulled out of my work in the middle of the day. Three days after the papers printed out the news, and I had caught a glimpse of his adult face for the first time in years. Despite the disheveled hair and maddening stare with the manic scream, it was still him. 

The interrogation room is exactly like I thought it would be. Remus had described it in his letters, he was his friend after all, it made sense to interrogate him as well. There’s only a few people present in the room, most of them being guards and secret keepers. The veritaserum is present in a small vile, on an even smaller table. I sit down in front of it and take a small sip. 

The auror raises an eye at me, I gulp down the whole potion. I can already feel the effects start to take place, it’s getting more difficult to hold my tongue. The auror grabs a piece of paper from the secret keeper next to them and the reporter holds more tightly to her pen. 

“Please state your name.” 

The first questions are standard procedure, making sure that the veritaserum is in full effect. It’s basic questions: my name, my age, my occupation. The Auror clears his throat and I straighten my back ready for the actual questions. His voice bellows as he speaks, “Have you had any contact with Sirius Black?” 

“No, I have not.” I reply, and as much as it pains me to say it, it’s the truth. The Auror’s eyes narrow at me suspiciously. I can hear the quill scratching at the parchment paper, my answer recorded. He asks, “Have you been in contact with anyone who has been in contact with Sirius Black?” 

“No, I have not.” I repeat, and feel the boredom steep into my skin, not just annoyance that was already present. I had wished that he had contacted me, but surely, he was waiting for the trials to be over, he wouldn’t want to get caught. 

“Do you know anyone who Sirius Black might try to contact?” 

“Do you have any ideas as to where he might hide?”

“Are there any people who might’ve aided him in his escape?” 

“Have you aided him in his escape?” 

The questions go on and on, and I watch the arrows of the clock tick and tick till an hour of my day is gone. The Auror is on his last paper with the last necessary questions. He asks, “And finally, what was your relationship with Sirius Black?” 

“I was his girlfriend.” 

***

“I’m not sure I like this.”

“No, don’t worry, you’ll love this surprise.” Remus teases, hinting at something I don't understand. I had received a letter from Remus, entailing anything except for the fact that the order is coming back together. For the second time, to fight off Voldemort. Harry needed more people around him that believed him more than anything.

I open my eyes and my breath hitches when I see him. He looks older from what I remember and much more sane than the pictures that the daily profit prints.I can imagine that if I’d ask him, he’d just smirk and flirt. He’d say that thoughts of me held him over. He’s got his hair slicked back and his beard trimmed. The dirt that would’ve covered his skin from the confinement in Azkaban, nowhere to be seen. He wanted to make a good impression, and that was too bad. 

“Actually, I’m sure that you’ve loved this surprise for a while now.” He says He walks me towards an unknown room in Grimmauld Place 12. The new location for the order is odd, and quite awfully random. I wasn’t sure how Dumbledore agreed, it seemed such an obvious place to hold a resistance against Voldemeort, but maybe that was the brilliance of it.

Remus was being awfully ominous, he’s been hinting about this surprise for a bit, and now that he’s finally leading me towards it, I feel anxious. I clutch my bag tightly in my hand and try not to look like I want to open my eyes so badly, aching to not try to take a subtle peek through my fingers that covered my eyes.

Remus shuts the door behind us and positions me.  He lets go of my shoulders, and shouts, “Surprise!” 

The feelings of relief from seeing him, all gone out the window as my fist clenches in anger and my blood boils. Why had he not spoken to me? Been out of Azkaban for two years, and not a single word. How dare he rob me of this relief?  Everyday coming home from work to eagerly check my letters and find none with his name. Looking deeply into the fire escape, hoping to see a familiar face, but don’t.

I rush over to him and start slamming his shoulders and chest with my bag. I shout, “You’ve been out of Azkaban for two bloody years and you haven't come to find me till now, you idiot!” 

“Ow,ow,ow! Darling, please stop.” He says, moving away from my bag and my fists, but I take a step towards him. I feel my eyes water at the nickname and how much I’d missed his voice. He holds my wrists and pulls them down, taking the bag from my hands and flinging it to the ground. 

I look at him again, and there he is. The boy I fell in love with,now a man, but with the same mischievous glimmer in his eyes. He smiles when he notices that my defenses have been let down, and my eyes softened. He always knew me too well. I feel my eyes burn and I press my lips together, urging the tears to stay back.

“I’ll give you guys some space.” Remus whispers before leaving the room. Sirius shoots him a smile and then turns back to me when the door closes. He looks skinnier, being on the run tends to do that. His cheeks are more hollowed out, but definitely filled out more since his initial escape. I wonder if he knows that I look at his pictures everyday. Sirius whispers, “How is it that you’re still getting more and more beautiful?” 

“How is it that you didn’t come find me? Or contact me at all? Harry’s been talking to you, he’s told me about the letters, and apparently you’ve been talking to Remus too.” I ask, avoiding his expert technique in changing the subject. He lets go of my wrist and I feel my fingers twitch, aching to get a hold of him again. He sighs, and says, “I was in Azkaban for twelve years.” 

“So?” 

“So…you could’ve moved on, and I-” He admits, pausing to let out a shaky breath. Fourteen years didn’t change the man that I knew. The mannerisms are the same, the same nervous shifting and awkward, but devastating smile. He continues, “I wasn’t ready to see that. Don’t think I am now, but it seems like it’s been long enough.” 

“It’s been too long.” I say, and take a final step towards him. I gulp and reach out to take his hand. I feel the softness of his finger tips, sliding my hand over his, feeling the lines of his palm and his callouses. It’s all the same and I can't without the sigh that breaks out from my chest. The first proper touch from the love of my life. He grips my hand the same way he always did, lock and key. I pull him tightly against me, hug him. For years, this is all I’ve wanted, and now it’s here.

“Have you?” Sirius asks, and I pull away, frowning and confused. I ask, “Have I what?” 

“Moved on?” Sirius asks, tentatively, part of him not wanting to know, instead wanting to live in an ignorant bliss. To me, it’s a stupid question. I smile, “No, how could I move on when you’ve taken my heart eighteen years ago, and so selfishly haven’t given it back to me?” 

“I don’t think I’ll ever get around to giving it back.” He grins so widely I think his face might break. He leans down and captures my lips in a heated kiss that’s filled with so much emotion, the emotions that neither of us could’ve expressed for a long time. 

a/n: hope you guys enjoyed! I have a feeling that I've been writing too much Sirius Black, though I'm not complaining

I feel a few tears finally escape my eyes, I can’t believe that he’s actually here, in front of me, kissing me after all this time. He wipes them away with his thumbs and cradles my face with his hands. For the first time in twelve years, though maybe without friends and heart bruised and more broken than before, I don’t feel alone. 

[redrose10]

Can we do professor/student “quiet baby the others will hear you”. Please ?

<Quiet Baby>

💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕

Professor Yoongi x Female College Student Reader (both consenting adults)

Warnings: Jealousy, using someone else to make someone jealous, light smut (smuttier than I planned but nothing crazy), swearing

I hope you like it! Also, since it wasn’t noted, I wrote this with Yoongi because it just fit him. I hope that’s okay!

💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕

There was nothing sexier than watching your boyfriend looking all studious surrounded by books and papers, his tie undone hanging loosely around his neck, sleeves rolled up, and his glasses on the tip of his nose as he was buried deep in thought making notes and editing his paper. His recently bleached hair (he was a sweetheart and let you test out a new product on his hair before sacrificing your own) was tousled from hours of running his hands through it. He was finishing up his dissertation in preparation to obtain his PHD and you were so beyond proud of him.

You were also getting incredibly turned on by the sight in front of you.

Before you knew it you were inserting yourself between him and the table to straddle his lap. Slowly you started placing kisses down his neck.

“Y/N…please.”, he grumbled.

“Come on Yoongi. You’ve been working all night. Let me make you feel good.”, you mumbled into his skin focusing your lips on the spot just behind his ear that always drove him crazy.

“Y/N.”, he hissed as you began rolling your hips a little, “Any other time your clothes would already be across the room, but I really need to focus right now.” He placed a kiss on your lips before scooting the chair back slightly to make it easier for you to hop off.

He chuckled seeing your pout and the defiance of you refusing to get up. “I promise I’ll make it up to you once I turn this paper in. I’ll be all yours for anything you want.”, he said before giving your thigh a light smack to encourage you to get up.

“Fine.”, you huffed and retreated to the bedroom to try and get some sleep instead.

When you woke up the next morning Yoongi was already gone. On Thursdays he had an early morning lecture. Not only was your boyfriend a smart phd candidate, but he was a hard working college professor teaching a physics course.

And you just happened to be lucky enough to be in his 2pm class. Which gave you a great idea because you were still a little bit annoyed that he had rejected you so easily the night before. So you carefully selected your outfit, a short black pencil skirt and a crisp white blouse neatly tucked in with a pair of sheer black tights and your favorite black pumps, an outfit Yoongi had told you many times absolutely drove him crazy. To anyone else you were dressed up to give a presentation or maybe you were having a job interview, but you knew he would know the real reason and it would get to him and you could feel the excitement building.

When he walked into the lecture hall closing the door behind him your breath got caught in your throat. He greeted a few of the students as he made his way to the front of the class. He looked so warm and cozy and handsome in his favorite pea coat his cheeks just a little red from the cold winter air. You smiled when you noticed the blue sweater he had underneath, a Christmas gift you’d given him last year. You were really glad you decided to go back to college giving you the chance to meet and fall in love with such a man.

You did your best to keep your composure as he took off his coat and set up for class because no one else knew that the two of you were a thing. Even though you were two consenting adults, the school still wouldn’t like it.

Unfortunately for you, Yoongi didn’t really seem to notice or care about the little ensemble you were wearing. You didn’t get a smile or even an eye roll which you would have appreciated. This only made you more determined to get him worked up just as much as you.

“Hey Jimin?”, you whispered to the man next to you. When he looked in your direction you leaned over in his direction, “Do you happen to have the notes from last class that I could copy? Somehow I lost mine.” Enthusiastically he nodded and handed you his notebook, “Yeah of course. Color coded and everything.”

“Thank you Jimin!”, you exclaimed, “You’re just the best!”

Yoongi cleared his throat, “Miss L/N…Mr. Park…is there anything you’d like to share with the class?”, he said. Jimin sat up straight and shook his head, but you were less afraid of Yoongi. “Nope, we’re good. I just really needed some help and Jimin was happy to assist.”, you said with a smile. Yoongi eyed you both before turning back to the board to continue with the lecture.

“Wow is it warm in here or just me?”, you sighed quickly undoing a couple more buttons on your blouse. The top of your white lace bra just barely peaking through. Jimin, being quiet the gentleman, did his best to keep his eyes focused on the front of the room. That is until you leaned over unnecessarily close to him giving a better view of your cleavage and bra, “Here are your notes! Thanks again. You’re such a life saver. And a cutie on top of it!,” Shyly he chuckled before grabbing the notebook out of your hands.

Yoongi clapped his hands together, “Well it looks like the snow is getting pretty bad out so why don’t we end class early so you all can get home. We’ll pick up from here next class. Be safe out there everyone.”

You couldn’t help but pout a little feeling like you didn’t accomplish what you set out to do. Although it did warm your heart thinking about how he worried for the safety of his students. As you were packing up your belongings you heard him clear his throat again, “Miss L/N, can I please have a word with you?”

Slowly you finished packing up your stuff as you waited for the last few students to leave the room. When you were alone you walked over to his desk ready to get a talking to or something of that matter.

“I’m not really in the mood for one of your lectures right now.”, you groaned when you got in front of him.

But he surprised you by grabbing your hips spinning you around and pinning you against the desk underneath him, “Yeah then what are you in the mood for hmmm?”

He kissed your lips before slowly moving his own lips down your neck to your chest nipping at the skin and pulling your bra away with his teeth. This was completely unlike him. He definitely wasn’t into PDA especially around the campus.

“Yoo-Yoongi.”, you stuttered out. His hands slowing pulling up the hem your skirt as his fingers trailed up your thighs making your brain turn to mush. “What do you think you’re doing to me huh? You teased me last night when I was busy. I could barely focus. Now you’re teasing me here…showing up to class dressed like this…flirting with Park right in front of me. Do you know how hard it was for me to control myself?”

He rocked his hips against you to give emphasis on the word hard. The feeling making you whine out in need. “S-Someone’s opening the door.”, you finally managed to get out in a panic.

Yoongi grabbed your things and your hand and swiftly pulled you into the small closet off to the side.

On the outside you could hear chairs being moved and a few mumbles from students coming into the room getting ready for the next class.

Your heart felt like it was going to beat out of your chest thanks to the fear of being caught, but your boyfriend seemed to have other ideas.

He gripped your hips pulling you back against him gently grinding himself against your backside. You bit your lip to stifle a moan at the thought and feeling of him needing you so badly.

The professor started the lesson and was going on and on about some equation. You tried to keep your focus on what was happening out there so that you could hear if anyone was coming to the closet and give yourself time to come up with a story to explain everything, but Yoongi’s grip on your hips intensified as he quickened his movements behind you. At some point one of his hands had reached into your blouse and lifted your bra up giving him easy access to gently squeeze at your breasts. The sensation making you arch your back and push yourself onto him even more. Both of you struggling to keep quiet.

Without another word he pulled up your skirt until it was around your waist. The tights were a lost cause those being nearly ripped from your body at the start. The sound of his belt being undone sent a burning feeling through your body.

“Is this what you wanted? What you were so needy for?”, he asked.

Unable to speak you nodded.

“You had no problem talking to Jimin earlier, but now you can’t speak? I want words Y/N.”, he whined feeling your wetness with his fingers.

“Y-yes. I need you Yoongi. Right now. I need you. Please.”, you mewled bracing yourself against the walls of the closet.

“Good girl.”, he gritted as he easily entered you in one go. Both of you doing your best to stay silent.

“Yoongi move please.”, you begged needing more stimulation.

“I-I know baby. I just..I need a minute.”, he groaned into your shoulder blade. Still upset about the prior night you decided to clench around him as hard as you could making him hiss before immediately pulling out so he wouldn’t finish so quickly.

“You think you’re funny don’t you.”, he spat while spinning you around to face him.

“Yeah a litt-“, you tried to respond, but were silenced when he hoisted you up holding you against the side wall of the closet. He entered you once again, but this time didn’t wait for either of you to adjust. He started pounding into you with such a rapid pace you completely forgot where you were and a loud drawn out moaned escaped you.

You put your hand over your mouth in shock because it sounded like footsteps were getting closer and closer to the closet.

Yoongi continued to lazily thrust in and out of you like he was determined for both of you to finish no matter what happened and you had to admit that the feeling was getting you close.

After a minute of silence the footsteps moved farther and farther away and the professor resumed the lecture.

You looked at him to see if he still wanted to continue and it seemed that he did because he picked up the pace again while sucking a bruise into your skin. You willed yourself to not make any more noise, but every time Yoongi would hit that spot just perfectly getting you closer and closer to your release, you would whine and whimper just a little bit more.

“Quiet baby the others will hear.”, he smirked before picking up the pace even more this time. It didn’t take much longer for the two of you to both come undone together. He held you up for a minute while you caught your breath. Slowly he let you down and pulled out, both of your wincing at the overstimulation.

“Fuck Y/N. That was so hot.”, he sighed as he grabbed his scarf out of his bag to help clean you up. “Yeah uh…I didn’t mean for it to go exactly like this, but I’m not complaining.”, you giggled, “So uh how long is this class?”, you asked suddenly realizing you were going to be stuck in the closet for a while.

“This is a quantum physics class and it usually lasts about two hours.”, he apprehensively said.

“Well that sucks.”, you scoffed feeling a little annoyed now.

“Does it though?”, he asked pulling you against him once again, “I don’t know about you, but I could definitely go for another round…maybe two.”

[yara0546]

Hey can you do 7dream love languages? 🧡

Nct dream | Their Love Language with You

Pairing: nct dream x Reader

Genre: Fluff, Comfort, relationship.

Note : English is not my first language, so I apologize if there are any grammatical errors, because I sometimes use a translator in some sentences.

Disclaimer : This is a work of fiction from our imagination. It is not intended that the plot, theme, original characters, idols, etc. portray any real-life events/people. Plagiarism is NOT tolerated on this blog. If you believe we have copied an existing authors’ work, please message us privately. thank you and enjoy :)

Masterlist

Mark

Mark isn’t the best with expressing emotions, but when he realizes how much words mean to you, he makes an effort.

You sigh, looking out the window of your shared apartment. “Sometimes… I just wonder if I’m enough.”

Mark’s eyes widen, setting down his guitar. “What? What are you talking about? Of course, you are.”

You hesitate. “You don’t say it often. I know you care, but I just—”

Mark gently grabs your hands. “Hey. Listen to me. You are the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I mean it. You make my days better, you’re my safe place. I love you, and I’ll remind you as many times as you need, okay?”

Your heart flutters at his sincerity. “Okay.”

He chuckles, leaning in to kiss your forehead. “I’ll say it every day if it makes you feel secure. Because you’re more than enough for me.”

Renjun

Renjun doesn’t always say how much he loves you—he shows it.

One evening, you come home exhausted, barely able to keep your eyes open. “Renjun, I—”

Before you can finish, he gently pushes you toward the couch. “Shh, just sit. I got this.”

You blink as he brings over a tray of hot soup, tea, and your favorite snacks. “You cooked?”

He nods, his ears turning red. “You’ve been working too hard. I don’t like seeing you so tired.”

You smile, touched by his thoughtfulness. “You’re amazing, you know that?”

He huffs, but his lips twitch into a smile. “Just eat. And don’t think of anything else, okay? I’ll take care of everything.”

Jeno

Jeno isn’t overly affectionate in public, but with you, he’s all about physical touch.

You sigh, rubbing your temples after a long day. Jeno notices immediately, pulling you into his arms. “Rough day?”

You nod against his chest. “Yeah.”

Instead of saying anything, he just holds you, rubbing soothing circles on your back. His warmth melts away your stress.

“You always know what I need,” you mumble.

He chuckles, resting his chin on your head. “That’s ‘cause I know you better than anyone.”

You close your eyes, letting yourself relax in his embrace. With Jeno, actions speak louder than words.

Haechan

Haechan believes love is best shown through time spent together.

“Let’s go out!” he announces one evening.

You glance up from your book. “Haechan, it’s late.”

“So? We can go get late-night snacks. Just you and me.”

You hesitate, but the sparkle in his eyes convinces you. Soon, you’re walking down the quiet streets, hand in hand.

Haechan grins, swinging your arms. “I just wanna be with you, you know?”

You smile. “Even if it’s just for snacks?”

“Especially if it’s for snacks,” he teases before his expression softens. “Nah, I just… love spending time with you. Doesn’t matter what we’re doing.”

Your heart swells with warmth. “Me too.”

Jaemin

Jaemin’s love language is a mix of touch and words.

One evening, you’re sitting beside him, feeling insecure. “Do you think I’m… good enough?”

Jaemin frowns and immediately pulls you into his lap. “What? Who put that thought in your head?”

You shrug. “I just… feel that way sometimes.”

He cups your face, forcing you to meet his gaze. “You’re perfect to me. And if anyone ever makes you doubt that, tell me so I can fight them.”

You giggle, but your heart flutters at his sincerity. “You’re so dramatic.”

“Only for you,” he says, pressing kisses to your forehead. “I’ll keep reminding you until you believe it.”

Chenle

For Chenle, love is shown through thoughtful gifts.

“Open it,” he says, handing you a beautifully wrapped box.

You blink in surprise. “But… it’s not a special occasion.”

He shrugs. “Who cares? I saw it and thought of you.”

You open the box to find a necklace with a charm shaped like something meaningful between you two. Tears prick your eyes. “Chenle… this is perfect.”

He grins. “Well, duh. I have good taste.”

You hug him tightly. “Thank you.”

He laughs but hugs you back. “I just want you to have little things that remind you of me.”

Jisung

Jisung is shy about affection, but he shows his love through time spent together and subtle touches.

One afternoon, he drags you to the practice room. “I want to teach you a dance.”

You pout. “But I’m terrible at dancing.”

He grins. “I’ll help you.”

As he guides you through the steps, his hands linger on your waist, keeping you steady. “See? You’re doing great.”

You laugh. “Only because you won’t let me fall.”

“Of course not,” he says softly, holding your hand tighter. “I’d never let you fall.”

Your heart skips a beat. Maybe dancing with Jisung isn’t so bad after all.

[heykaya]

Plantperson Dialogue

Extracted from the game’s code (8th February 2025)

Taking PC’s virginity:

Penile/Vaginal:

He grins. "Is this your first time? Lucky break!"

Anal:

He grins. "First time taking it up this hole, huh? I'll show you how great it is!"

Oral: 

He grins. "You've never used your mouth like this before, have you? I'll make it extra sweet, just for you."

Kiss:

He moans into your mouth. "I'll get you addicted to kissing. Or maybe you'll just be addicted to me." Sweet nectar floods your mouth, and he winks. (Nectar Fed +50)

If PC’s vaginal/penile virginity is taken by their other parts:

He whines. "Oh, you were a virgin? Come on! I knew I should've used my dick."

He/She whines. "Oh, you were a virgin? Come on! I knew I should've used my pussy/ass.

If PC’s mouth is about to be used:

He whines. "Try it, it's good!"

He coos. "You'll love my nectar. Come on, just a lick."

He coos. "It's delicious, I promise!"

He whines. "Please? Just one lick. Just one itty-bitty drop."

He huffs. "You'd love slurping down my nectar, you know."

He whines. "You're supposed to get addicted! Come on, work with me!"

He pouts. "We'd both have so much more fun if you just opened your mouth and started sucking."

If PC’s mouth is being used:

He coos. "Isn't it the sweetest thing you've ever tasted?"

He coos. "Drink up, it's good for you!"

He giggles. "You love my nectar, don't you? It's okay. Everyone does."

He coos. "Just keep drinking it, until your mind goes blank."

He giggles. "Wouldn't it be lovely if you got addicted, and had to spend the rest of your life here?"

He strokes your hair/smiles at you. "You don't need to worry. I'll take care of you."

He giggles. "You won't be able to go back to anything else."

Reactions to Transformations:

Wolf TF + in the forest:

He examines your wolf ears and frowns. "Hey, are you with the... never mind."

Harpy TF + in the moor:

He examines your bird wings and frowns. "Hey, are you with the... never mind."

Cow TF + in the moor:

He examines your cow horns and smiles. "Don't worry. I won't let Remy get you."

PC yelling for Love Interests:

Eden + you are in the forest:

He yelps. "What are you doing, shouting for the freak? Don't you know how dangerous he is?!" (Enemy Trust -30)

He flinches at your words. "Oh shit, you know the hunter? This is... dangerous." (Enemy Trust -20)

Black Wolf + you are in the forest:

He grins. "The alpha won't even recognise you when I'm done with you!"

Alex + you are in the moor:

He grins. "A farmer, huh? Maybe I'll cultivate you, cowgirl.”

Great Hawk + you are in the moor:

He flinches at your words. "Oh shit, you know the sky terror? This is... dangerous." (Enemy Trust -20)

If PC is covering themselves:

He giggles. "You don't need to be shy! I'm the only one here."

If PC is wearing a plant top/bottom:

He examines your plant top/bottom and beams. "We match!"

If PC is wearing a flower crown:

He examines your flower crown and gasps. "Oh, that's so cute! I need to make one of those for myself!"

Reaction to Pepper Spray:

He yelps. "Cut that out!"

He yelps. "Agh! What is that, attack pollen? Can humans do that?!"

If PC has orgasmed:

He grins. "I love making humans do that."

He grins. "Now how about you make me feel good, to return the favour?"

He giggles. "You won't need anyone but me soon enough!"

If PC has orgasmed (vaginal/anal):

He moans. "It'll be my turn soon. I'll pollinate you."

He giggles. "Are my vines making you feel that good?"

He giggles. "You're so cute, making that face while I'm fucking you."

He giggles. "You won't need anyone but me soon enough!"

If PC has a penis and cums:

She moans. "Oh, that's the stuff. I'll milk you dry for this. Fertilise me more."

She moans. "I'll be the one addicted to you at this rate. Plant your seed in me."

She giggles. "I'm not the only one having fun."

She giggles. "Wow, you're like a fountain!"

She giggles. "I'll milk you dry, just watch me."

If PC has a penis and either (1) cums very little, (2) has a female orgasm, or (3) has a denied orgasm:

She blinks. "Where's the, y'know... the cum? Is that it?"

If PC has a penis and has either (1) a parasite on their penis, (2) a condom on, or (3) has a chastity parasite:

She groans. "Come on, get that thing off your dick! It blocked all the cum!"

Misc Dialogue:

He speaks. "I bet nobody in the town has vines like mine!"

He speaks. "All natural, baby."

He speaks. "You deserve this. You deserve this pleasure."

He speaks. "We fit together perfectly!"

He speaks. "This is the best, isn't it?"

He whispers. "Don't you want to kiss me, lick me, taste me all over?"

He moans. "You're a much better pollinator than those giant wasps/the lurkers!" He scratches his head/smiles sheepishly. "That, er, was a compliment."

He grins. "A little slice of paradise, just for us."

He grins. "You'll be thinking about me for days."

He grins. "If I had my way, you'd be here forever."

He grins. "I'll leave you with something to remember me."

He speaks. "Just let me take care of you."

He grins. "I just want to pollinate you."

He pouts. "Shame you don't want it in the ass. I could've given you something to remember me by." (If no anal).

He speaks. "I swear, you were made for this!"

He moans. "I might not be able to go back to anyone else. Not after you."

He moans. "I don't want it to end, but... I'm so close!"

He speaks. "I'll keep going, and going, until you give in."

He giggles. "I've fucked a lot of humans. You're one of my favourites!"

If PC has the Prey/Witch trait after fucking/being raped by many tentacles:

He grins. "I can see it in your eyes. You've been dying for this, haven't you?" He leans in to whisper in your ear. "Someone like me, filling your every hole with my vines. 

(Bratty PC): Let me fulfil that wish, little witch.

(Neutral/Meek PC): Turning you into my prey.

Degrees of Lewdity - Text Based Masterpost

[urbeachboy]

O1 — World’s Best Detective ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

⋆˙⟡ — synopsis : you take up a co-worker’s shift, nearly get stabbed, and Red Robin’s losing his flair.

⋆˙⟡ — content : gn reader, violence, mugging, threatening, attempts at sexual assault, alcohol, knives, someone’s wrist is broken and depicted a bit vividly, i attempt (miserably so) to write accents, gotham. . .

Gotham is a hell-hole.

It isn’t like you weren’t aware of it, for you were, and anyone else (especially your family members) was also aware of it. And they’d tried to warn you, they always tried to warn you. Warn you of the supervillains that invoke a sense of incredulity (seriously- what’s a ‘condiment king’?), and superheroes who surpass them in that very field.

But it was cheap, and it was - well.. sufficient. Though there’s cobwebs in the corners of your apartment, it’s.. sufficient. You’ll clean it up- you’ll manage- it’ll suffice. As a matter of fact, the mess and the grime and the several health code violations isn’t quite the biggest issue, which says a ton.

It’s the crime rates. You’ve gotten past getting mugged five times, kidnapped two and assaulted six. It’s almost impressive, considering it has been no more than a fortnight and you almost always stick to a crowd, and refrain from going out past 12. Goodness, it’s like you’re a teenager all over again.

Thankfully, you’ve avoided danger almost completely so far. There’s no reason you would’ve gotten caught in the spider’s web- you’re a fly that sticks to its business. You get up at seven in the morning, eat the fastest breakfast you can, go to your classes (you're in Gotham Uni; the only reason you’re here), work your part-time at the local coffee shop, go home as quick as you can after clocking out, collapse in your bed, repeat. Bathing is fitted in there somewhere, too.

See, yesterday, one of your co-workers, Elise, had asked for you to take over her shift.

She’d approached you yesterday afternoon when you were wiping a bead of sweat away from your forehead (Gotham was especially humid in summer- figures, with it being New Jersey and all). She had sauntered up to you with all the suaveness of a siamese cat, with her dark hair done into a high ponytail.

Elise called out to you when she was barely a few feet away, a smile gracing her lips. “Could you do a favour for me, please?”

You quirked an eyebrow, but just before you could have parted your lips to ask, she was quick to speak over you. “You know, I’m asking you this because you’re like, the nicest person here. Honestly, you’re the only one I can talk to, haha! I know you’ll understand.”

You weren't gonna understand. Not when it's Elise--she's somewhat infamous round the workplace for her... behaviour.

Then, you were tempted to respond with a sharp ‘what do you want, Elise?’ and that’s just what you went to do until, despite yourself, you change it up last-second. “What is it?” you end up saying, and it sounds much more polite than you’d have liked it to sound. Your reputation precedes you, you think.

“Well,” she leaned back against the counter. There weren’t many customers then, most people were at work or school, so you had a little moment of respite. “It’s my sister’s wedding tomorrow,” you don’t recall her ever mentioning a sister before, “and I was thinking maybe you could take my shift for me?” Tough luck. “Just for tomorrow, I promise. I won’t bother you about anything after that.”

It’s a horribly difficult decision to make (note the sarcasm), but with great effort, you open your mouth to deny her request when she cuts you off. Again. “I knew you would, sweetie! Thanks!” And she’s gone.

So you had taken her shift- it’d be a one-time thing. It’d be fine.

Though, unexpectedly, it'd been especially busy today and you seemed to have completely zoned out while making coffee after coffee that, when all the customers are satisfied and have left, you drag your weary eyes up to the window and see darkness. You do a double-take-- still darkness.

You’re late.

It’s 12:30, you see it when you glance at the quaint clock on the pastel-coloured wall. It’s 12:30, and, looking out the window once more, it’s sans any life. You can hear a few strays howling, but that’s about it.

You may have called yourself paranoid in any other situation, but right now? In Gotham? You’re not taking those chances. You weren’t taking those chances, you had been avoiding those chances like the Black Plague but now the chances are shoved into your open palms very so generously.

Yes, there are vigilantes, a plethora of them- but you’re not sure if you trust your well-being in the hands of these mysterious masked individuals who go by strange aliases. Red Hood? Seriously? Maybe he’ll have a dainty little basket, too, on his dainty little self. Maybe he’ll give you a loaf of bread and a pot of butter or whatever it is that Little Red Riding Hood was taking to her grandma if you ask nice enough.

So, your distrust towards vigilantes aside, now you’re in a dilemma- you’re certainly not staying the night at the café, it’ll get you fired for sure. And even if it doesn’t, what would you tell them? That you were far too chicken to walk home because it’s past 12:00? They’re locals, lived here for years. You’re clearly not.

In the end, after a few more minutes of contemplating, you picked up your bag, holding it close to yourself while your eyes flicker up to the clock once more- 12:40. Okay. You can do this, no big deal- you’re an adult.

Walking out the café’s door on wobbly legs, you’re shrouded by the darkness. The moon barely aids you, meagre light shining down on you from the great crescent in the sky. It’s thankfully just enough to see, and while you could take out your phone’s flashlight, you don’t want to risk grabbing any unwanted attention.

The streets are, for the most part, empty—save for the few pigeons or stray dogs that you see in the alleys—which is unusual for these parts of Gotham.

Then, you hear it- a loud ‘clang!’. Like metal.

Instinctively, your head whips around only to find that it’s.. a cat. A calico, barely anything save a kitten, messing around atop some trash can.

You’re not sure what compels you then, but like an idiot, you take a final glance around and, upon reconfirming that the streets are vacant of people, you inch towards the cat.

“Hey, kitty,” you coo, slowly reaching a hand out once you’re in the alley. It’s not that far from the road, you’re barely halfway in the alley, only just outside it for the cat. The calico reacts positively to your approach, letting out a small ‘meow’ and nuzzling its nose into your palm. You could’ve melted then and there. It’s evident, really, from how you continue to blabber sweet nothings underneath your breath, barely on the brink of squealing because the little thing just seems to revel in your affection.

It seems alone. You wonder where its mother is. It’s mewls sound pitched, and it’s definitely supposed to be feeding still. You can’t help but feel pity as you take in the orange splotches of colour on the otherwise black and white cat, and it’s blue eyes. Suddenly, in the midst of your discerning, it jumps off the trash can and hurriedly rushes away. “..What was that all about?” you mumble to yourself.

Footsteps catch your attention. Your eyes shoot up from the ground and dread fills you. You’d forgotten your rule. It should’ve been well past 12:00 now, and you’re in immediate danger.

Sparing a glance to the cat who was now trotting away, you almost wish you could’ve blamed it on the animal, but you’re very well aware whose fault it is that you’re about to get murdered.

“Hey,” a man calls out. He’s imposing, and he’s got grizzly brown hair and mutton chops. He’s wearing a worn T-shirt and some jeans, and his voice? God, his voice. It’s gruff and heavy and unsettling- it makes you feel unsteady, as though your knees are about to give out. You don’t dare respond. Instead, you decide to do the next best thing.

You pick flight over fight, and you flee. Or at least, you attempt to. It was almost embarrassing how fast his hands wrapped around your wrists, and even more so how you tried to wretch your hands away to absolutely no avail. It barely registers in your head, but he’s cussing at you, mumbling, something about calming down. Like hell you’re going to calm down. No, in fact, you may have the survival instincts of a fawn, but hell if you’re calming down. Instead, you scream- as loud as you can, at the top of your lungs, when he cuts it short by placing his palm over your mouth, positioned meticulously so you wouldn’t be able to bite down on him as much as you’d liked to.

You thrash and flail, and he lowers himself down to your ear. “Listen here, babe. Yer’ gunna give me yer’ cash, or ah’m gunna take somethin’ else.” He has an accent, and you’re not sure what kind (though you’re not very eager to find out), but it’s thick as a bush. More than his accent, though, you fixate on his words- you know sure as gravity what he's talking about. What he’s insinuating. You want to gag- you feel the bile travelling up your throat, but you swallow it back down, tears pricking at the ducts of your eyes. With how loud you screamed, you’re sure some vigilante must’ve heard you, but alas, nobody comes hither.

It’s stupid, you’re aware, but you can’t think of anything else. Spite and disgust and hatred and adrenaline, all at once, fill up your being and you shake your head, thrashing about some more. Writhing, squirming, wriggling, anything. You kick your legs back, aiming for his feet, but you stop when he holds his other hand up to your neck. He leaves his hands free, and noting this, you’re about to use them to fight back- but you stop cold in your tracks.

You stop. You stop when you realise he’s holding something in his hand. It glints under the moonlight, and you realise it’s exactly what you feared- a knife. Far from dull. The exact opposite, really. And it’s held up to your rushing pulse, threatening to draw blood.

You’re not sure what to do anymore. You need to pay your rent, you’re barely hanging on by a thread. You’re also not giving up your dignity- you’re also not going to die. The safest option is your money. Slowly, you raise your shaking arms into the air, as if to surrender. “Good,” he drawls. When he removes his hand from your mouth, you can smell it- the sickening stench of alcohol. Of-course he’s drunk. It’s likely why he’s so bold.

Just as you’re about to reach for your wallet, your aggressor jolts.

“What the fu—” His knife is knocked out of his hand, and his hand? Oh, his poor hand. You hear a very discernible ‘crack!’ paired with a scream from him as his hand is twisted into a position that isn’t remotely human. There’s a hand on his wrist, his assaulter- they’re clad in black leather (or some other sort of shiny, smooth material) gloves, and you follow it up to their arm (red sleeves), and their neck, and then their face. You glance down at their chest- and lo and behold; Red Robin.

He’s just like you’ve heard (or like how you’ve seen from the few blurry, low-quality videos that made it onto the news time again), his black hair parting at the centre, forming a sort of arch. Ah- wait, right. You’re not supposed to be dwelling on his appearance- not when your perpetrator is in immense pain. You almost want to cheer for the vigilante, but you hold back.

“Drop the knife,” he says to the man, his voice seeming far too familiar. Though you haven’t heard Red Robin before. His voice is near boyish, and though he’s younger than you assumed, he seems far from a teenager.

Backing up slowly, you’re unsure what exactly to do. So instead, you lean against a wall of the alley, trying to compose yourself, trying to get your breathing to slow down because you’re not sure when all the oxygen entering your lungs started to become too much, too fast. You trail a hand up to your chest, and you close your eyes and focus and, sure enough, your heart is beating at the speed of a Jackrabbit’s. It was understandable, to you, at least. Because, oh my god, he just broke that guy’s wrist. Holy shit.

You try to focus on anything else but your nerves, eyes landing on Red Robin and your assailant (you’re not certain how many words you’ve used for him by now). The latter is scrambling to apologise, the knife on the floor and one of his hands holding the other (which was limp by now. Your wrist feels like it’s faintly aching too, merely at the sight). He’s shaken, and you’re sure you would’ve been, too, if your wrist was snapped in half like nothing.

You can’t register what any of them are saying. It’s not that you’re far away, no, you’re close enough. But all the words are slurring together in your mind and you can’t bring yourself to focus. You see Red Robin nod his head towards the streets after a while, and your assailant hurriedly rushes off, leaving his knife there on the ground. The vigilante in red picks it up promptly, observing it for any stains and stashing it away in his utility belt. Then, his gaze is drawn to you from beneath the mask.

You always thought the masks were odd. Especially when you could see half their faces- save for Batman, of course. He says something, and you can hear his lips move, but it’s all Greek to you when it comes out. Then, his brows knit together the slightest bit in concern, and he takes a step forward. You can hear it now. “You okay?”

You nod. It’s almost embarrassing, the amount you’re shaking. But he doesn’t seem to judge you. Thank god for that, even if you’re not sure why you assumed he would. You almost had your neck sliced in half as if it were a watermelon in a game of Fruit Ninja.

Then you stare at Red Robin. You really stare at him. You squint your eyes, falling over his frame. His voice was familiar, you recalled telling yourself that not a few minutes ago. But why? Was it just one of those voices? It wasn’t. You realised it when you looked at his hair again. Black, silky locks that fell in waves, an arch formed at the centre. Holy shit. Holy shit. No, no it’s not. It’s not.

No, it so is. So you tell him, you tell him like it is. Or like you think it is, at least.

“You’re Tim drake.” It comes out breathy, like a gasp. Like you don’t believe yourself.

Then you stare at him some more. Because he’s doing the exact same thing, staring at you like you’d said something obscene, like you were from another planet or all your teeth had fallen out. His nose scrunched up only for a second, before a small snicker escaped him. Like he’d forgotten himself. His facade.

“I’m Red Robin.” It was confident, clear, crisp- every syllable. He knew who he was, he was self-assured. You almost doubted yourself, just for a second. But with you, instinct was always stronger than wit.

“Yeah, but—”

“It’s late. Do you need me to walk you home? Looked a bit dazed earlier,” he cut you off with the beginnings of a smile on his lips, acting like he didn’t even hear you. Which, yes, you started quite softly, but you’re sure he was close enough to hear.

You narrow your eyes. Ultimately, you decided it’d be best not to budge. There’s shivers that wrack your spine as images of that man’s twisted wrist invade your head. That could be your neck. No.

The bats and the birds don’t kill. The bats and the birds are, however, not above beating you to a pulp so much so that you wished that they kill. And then maybe they’ll leave you at some dingy hospital.

Slowly, you nod your head, moving up and off the wall you were slumped against previously. He smiled. It seemed so genuine, but you’re certain it’s not.

“Lead the way, then.”

⋆˙⟡ — a/n : i’m sososo sorry it took this longggg :( been a bit busy and also writer’s block hit HARD <//3 but i’ve prevailed !! 2nd chapter soon !!

. fin ˗ˏˋ ᯓᡣ𐭩

[bananayuyu]

just friends (2) - back to the beginning

pairing: san x f reader

genre: smut, angst, a bit of fluff

word count: 12.6k

summary: could you really call this a friendship anymore? what was it really, when you spent nights curled up in the sheets with him, days fighting till your blood ran cold? this was more than anything you'd had with anyone; but what it was, you didn't know. you'd fight to keep it alive, for it held you together; but how much more of this could San take before he breaks?

warnings: MDNI, smut, vaginal sex, cream pie, oral, cum eating

a/n: i have become completely obsessed with these two. I've mapped out 10 parts for this series (help me), please let me know if you'd like to be tagged for the rest <33 new parts won't be coming out on any certain schedule as I have many other writing projects I'm working on, but I will for sure finish his series within the year. I'm too obsessed not to. also the argument at the end of this part is pretty nasty so please proceed with caution <3

<- previous part | next part -> | series masterlist | read it on ao3

One Year Ago

"Titi, it's 4:15, get your ass up!" you called from her desk, squinting at your eyes in the mirror as you put the finishing touches on your dark, heavy face of makeup.

"I know, sorry," she grumbled from her bed, slowly pushing off her comforter. "Winter makes me so sleepy," she yawned, stretching as long as she couch reach, her feet falling off the side of her mattress.

"You just love being late, I think," you joked, slapping closed the lid of your highlighter, putting the brush you used back into the drawer it came from.

"You'd think I do, with how often I am," she laughed, another yawn escaping her lips, her palms rubbing circles over her eyes.

"I'm leaving without you if you're running late, just so you know," you responded, stepping up off her desk chair and over to your trusty bag, double checking you had your costume for tonight, your phone, your keys, wallet, and makeup bag.

"I'm coming, just give me a second," she muttered, pushing herself up dramatically, a deep sigh wracking through her. "I didn't get to sleep till like ten in the morning."

"What were y'all doing?" you asked, chuckling, zipping closed your bag with a satisfying sound, everything packed just right for the day ahead.

"Wouldn't you like to know," she laughed, waggling her eyebrows at you.

"You're a couple of fucking rabbits, you two," you shot back, staring at the disheveled state of your best friend. She tipped her head back, laughing hard, that bright full smile showing across her beautiful face. She'd been smiling a lot like that lately, ever since her and her girlfriend had made things official, ever since they'd decided to move in together.

"I'm sorry, I won't talk about it so much if it's annoying," she said, finally standing herself up and shlepping off her pajamas.

"Don't stop, it's very adorable," you responded. "Why would it be annoying?"

"Just cause, you know, your last situation was such a disappointment. I don't want it to feel like I'm rubbing it in," she said, grabbing for a pair of black leggings and pink sweater in the pile of clothes on the floor.

"My last, what, three situations, actually?" you said, trying to remember each of the ridiculous members of the cast of dates you'd been on last year.

"Dating sucks," she said, pulling her leggings on, stumbling a bit.

"Not for you, it doesn't," you responded, crossing your arms.

"Well, not now, but it did for my whole life up until this point," she said.

"Ah, turned twenty-two and now you have it figured out?" you joked, rolling your eyes.

"Hey, don't get snippy with me missy," she pouted, pulling the sweater over her head.

"Sorry, you know I just like arguing for no reason," you sighed, chuckling a bit.

"I need to find you someone who likes it just as much as you do," she joked back, grabbing her phone off it's charger.

"But who's not actually an asshole?" you said.

"Yeah, exactly," she laughed, shooting off a quick text. "Shit, 4:20," she said, stuffing her phone into her own huge bag, not bothering to check it's contents like you just did.

"Okay, we're going now," you said, walking out into her living room, heading straight for the front door.

"Wait, just let me make a cup of coffee!" she called to you, stumbling behind.

"They have coffee where we work, you know," you remarked, looking back at her over your shoulder.

"Oh my god, you love saying shit like that," she rolled her eyes, following close behind you.

"I'm not wrong," you said as you opened the front door, stepping out into the hall.

"I just wanted my pretty mug," she sighed, stepping out after you.

"Then go grab it," you said, holding the door open.

"I can do that? Make coffee into a mug I've brought in?" she asked.

"I don't see why not," you responded, shrugging your shoulders.

"Okay, if I get in trouble I'm blaming you," she said, running back in to grab her favorite mug from the cabinet above the sink.

"Fine, fine," you shook your head, closing the door once she'd come out again.

As soon as you exited the building you realized you'd worn too much; it might be January still, but it was hardly cold at all, this dense desert city holding all the heat the rest of the world must be craving.

"Can we slow down?" Tina asked from beside you, your shoulders bumping as you stepped around a huge group standing on the sidewalk outside of an Italian restaurant, chatter filling the air.

"I don't wanna be late," you answered, keeping your pace as it was.

"Dude, you're so wound up," she said, snaking her hand through your upper arm, genuinely worried you'll start sprinting off if she didn't ground you somehow.

"Sorry, I know," you said, linking your arm around her's. "I'm good, I swear. Just stressed about my manuscript submission," you said, flashing her a wary smile.

"They said they'd get back to you by next week, right?" she asked, gently pulling on you to help you avoid a dark spot of something sticky on the sidewalk.

"Yeah, next week," you sighed, letting out a disgruntled noise.

"Okay, so, you just gotta wait. You did all that work last year finishing that play, you should let yourself have some fun for a few weeks. We should all go out after work today, we haven't done that in forever," she said, the two of you snaking around a line of people standing outside the old movie theater that sat just a block from your place of work.

"Doesn't Maya work Sunday mornings?" you asked, pulling up at the corner to wait for the light to change.

"Usually, but not this week. She's on a later shift today so they gave her tomorrow off," she answered you, eyes darting around at the cacophony of sounds streaming through the streets from every direction.

"Oh, that's nice," you said, and Tina started laughing, squeezing onto your arm. "Shit sorry, did that sound sarcastic?"

"It's so funny when your tone goes all flat like that," she said beside you, a genuine smile on her face. "Seriously though, there probably won't be a Saturday night where she can come out with us for a very long time. We should do it. Maybe we can even convince Sasha and Bibi to come too."

"I'll think about it," you said as the light changed, the two of you stepping down onto the asphalt in front of you. A car honked loudly from your left, wanting to turn down the street you were walking across, and you both shot the driver identical looks of confusion over your shoulders. Only another minute and you were pushing through the side door of the bar, stepping right into the back of the kitchen and waving hi to the cooks on the line. The hallway to the dressing room was already uncomfortably hot; your light layers were far too much now, so you stripped them off quickly, shoving everything into your locker and checking your phone. You weren't late, after all. Thankfully, because you were on early tonight, second in the program, and you only had time to change into your costume and warm up a bit before Ilya was calling your name and pushing you down to the left wing of the stage.

It was a fairly normal night, by all accounts. You'd been working at the bar for nearly two years by then, one of the longer standing performers. There was high turnover in the staff, as was typical in a bar, but especially amongst the performers, who'd often find sudden success in movies or TV, or decide that pursuing this was just not for them anymore. Ages varied wildly; your boss Julie was not one to obsess over youth, or any other conventional markers of beauty. All she cared about was talent; she wanted to create the most interesting, jaw dropping, entertaining show this whole city had to offer, and there was no doubt she had succeeded. Every kind of person could be found working here; sometimes servers would take on a performing shift or two, and sometimes the opposite. It wasn't rare for you to be asked to take drinks to a certain table, your costume still on, sometimes staying in character as you placed them down in front of wonder-filled eyes. You all were expected to help each other out; once or twice you'd even been requested in the kitchen or behind the bar, when there'd been one too many sudden call outs.

It was a classy establishment. Doors opened at 4:30, the show promptly starting at 5pm; it ended at midnight sharp, the bar closing only half an hour later. It was the earliest place to close on the block, only open four days a week, Wednesday night through Saturday night. It was a place people went to pregame, to start their evening with a bang, or a place people went to see a great show before heading back home at a reasonable hour. There was a drinks limit; you all could deny a customer another if they were acting unruly, your security team inconspicuous under the dark shadowy light inside, but always watching. The food served was regular bar fare: tacos, wings, pizza, burgers, but it was high quality, so good that some people came frequently just for their favorite menu item. The place was known for its drinks, too, having hoards of non alcohol options that put every other bar's mocktail lists to shame. It was known for its organized and sparkly atmosphere, known as a reliable place to have a good ass night. The patronage was a mixed bag, but the place wasn't cheap; it tended to skew a bit older, a bit more mature. You didn't hate that; it meant the behavior was generally predictable, even if you didn't exactly fit in amongst the crowd cheering you on.

Halfway through the night you plopped down on your stool in the dressing room, scrubbing free the bits of eyeliner that had smudged below your eye during your first two solo performances of the night.

"Hey girl, sorry to bug, do you have any lashes I could borrow?" Sasha came running in, a slightly panicked look on her face.

"I should, let me see what I have," you said, setting your makeup wipe on your bare thigh and zipping open your bag.

"I'm so sorry to ask, but I literally don't have any with me," she sighed, coming to sit beside you. "My right one fell off on stage and I couldn't find it for the life of me. I was trying to look for it without making it obvious," she said, a nervy chuckle escaping her.

"No worries, here, look through there. Take whatever you need," you said, handing her the small box you kept your old and new lashes in.

"Oh darling, you're a lifesaver," she sighed, snapping it open and rifling through, finding the size she needed. She still had some of that newbie air about her, not six weeks into working with you. But already she had established herself as irreplaceable; by then she emceed almost every night she worked, and thank god for that, as none of the rest of you had any talent or desire for it. Julie tended to do it, if no one else was available, but having a beautiful drag queen host the evening, one who also performed in the show, was a much better choice in every way.

"A group of businessmen just walked in and took table four, I'm hoping one of them is interesting in all this," she said, leaning forward to place the replacement lash on her right eyelid.

"I'm sure one will be, Sash, you're fucking gorgeous," you said, wiping the last of the smudged makeup from your face and giggling.

"Oh sweetheart, you flatter me," she drawled, looking over her face in the mirror. "Do you think those straight-" she lifted her hands, making air quotes, "men can tell I'm not a woman in all the typical ways?"

"Girl, I wasn't even sure the first time I saw you. Your makeup skills are unmatched," you said, chuckling at her.

"Oh stop it," she joked, shaking her head at you. "I hope my hosting skills are half as good," she sighed, finally placing the lash on her eye just right and batting her hand in front of her face in a desperate attempt to get the glue to dry quickly.

"Sasha, are you kidding? You put the rest of us to shame. You should have seen me the one night Julie made my try it out," you laughed, tossing your used makeup wipe in the waste basket beside you.

"I'm sure it was just fine, you little genius," she responded, blinking her eye open and closed a few times. "Sorry to cut this short, but I should probably get out there again."

"Go get 'em, girl," you responded, shooting a playful wink her way.

"Thank you again, darling," she said as she walked past, a gentle hand on your shoulder. You squeezed it briefly; "of course," you said. Then her heels were clacking past you, and soon the room filled with noise as nearly every performer on your cast came in to start their makeup, all of you preparing for the big group number of the evening.

You'd discovered the song, randomly, a few months back. The title, Kalyna, and the album art had intrigued you; after your first listen you were imaging the choreography immediately, turning on your phone to record the sudden ideas flooding your brain. You'd never choreographed a number for the bar, but you knew Julie would be open to it if you pitched it correctly. Three weeks later and you were teaching your coworkers the choreography, chaotic short lessons between everyone's normal performances, all of them picking it up lightning quick. It was an instant hit with your audiences, the night it debuted, and had been kept in the rotation longer than most of the other numbers ever were.

That night the air was buzzing in the dressing room; everyone looked sharp and stunning in their body suits, hair slicked back and pulled tight into buns. The makeup was angular; this number was meant to evoke a bit of tension, maybe even some fear in the audience. But it also showed the strength of the team, the strength of community, and the physical strength of each of you. It was your absolute favorite number that winter; you looked forward to it every night you worked, proud to know you'd created something that stuck so fondly in the minds of the people who watched.

As you hit the stage, you saw immediately what Sasha had just mentioned. Table four, which sat just off the right side of the stage, was cramped full of men in suits, every single one sharp and fitted and so obviously expensive. There was every type of man you could imagine at the table; you spotted immediately the epitome of tall, dark, and handsome, Sasha's dream come to life. And when she led the first eight counts towards the front of the stage, you saw his eyes take in everything, her long legs, her face, her deep rich eyes he seemed lost in. You nearly broke character; so rare was is that people in here flirted with the performers, oddly enough, and normally you were very thankful for that. It was all a part of the classy environment your boss had curated, and it meant you felt safe. But you couldn't deny how giddy it made you to see this playing out in front of you, mere feet from where you danced.

You danced the rest of the number focused, determined not to drop your professionalism for too long, the crowd erupting in cheer as you all finished. Clasping hands down the line, you took one giant bow, spinning and running off stage as the number ended.

"Lina needs help y'all!" Ilya called as you ran through the wings, and immediately you headed down the short hallway to the back of the bar, bursting through to find her. Stacked along the bar were multiple trays of drinks; a line was forming, and your head bartender looked the tiniest bit stressed. Sweat dripped form her brow, and she wiped it away quickly with her hand, punching something into the computer before whipping around to take another order.

"Oh, good, please take those out!" she said when she saw you and Tina, pointing to the trays of drinks in front of you. "The beers are for table four, the cocktails table seven!"

In an instant you grabbed the tray in front of you, sliding past Tina as carefully and quickly as possible. This was sometimes your favorite moments of the evening, when in the adrenaline of post-performance you had to run out drinks to an excited table, who'd marvel over your performance and ask you every question they could think of. As you started weaving through the room, several iterations of 'great job!' and 'amazing, just amazing!' were thrown your way, making your smile so wide it nearly stretched off your face. You barely payed attention to the drinks in your hand, only to make sure they didn't spill, as you nodded in thanks to the compliments, smiling at the half-lit faces around you.

It wasn't until you stopped, stood close to the wall to let another server past, that you realized which tray you'd grabbed. Both table four and seven sat on the far side of the room opposite the bar, and in the chaos of the moment you'd just headed this way, not bothering to actually take note. Now, you did; eight beers sat on the tray balanced on your hand, all identical dark ales. You shot a look to your side at Tina's tray, littered with pink and blue and clear cocktails, fun decorations sticking out the top of them all. Your's was meant for table four, for those businessmen Sasha had spotted, the one's you'd just performed mere feet from.

It shouldn't have worried you, but you couldn't help remembering it now. The only time you'd felt uncomfortable at work had been when serving a giant table full of just men, when one of them had said things severely over the line with you, just to make his friends laugh. It'd only ever happened that once, but the feeling was humiliating enough to have stuck with you, your mind whirring a bit as you made you way towards the crowded table. You decided you'd set the tray down by the man eyeing Sasha; maybe you could subtly hint at her interest, though you had no idea what you'd say. But as soon as you entered their proximity and reached between two of them to set down the tray, a man across the table spoke to you.

"I love that song!" he said, and you looked up to find a sweet, bright smile and deep dimples staring back at you.

"Oh, thank you!" you replied, giving him a genuine smile back, your mind immediately put at ease. You started placing the beers around, one in front of each man, careful to avoid the plates of food already littering the table.

"Do you know the significance of the Kalyna plant in Ukraine?" the same man asked, and your head snapped to him, eyes slightly wide.

"Yeah, that's why I chose to make that number," you said before you could think, so shocked that someone here knew anything about the song you'd spent long hours researching months ago.

"You choreographed that?" he asked, his eyes going wide a bit too.

"Oh, yeah," you said, slightly embarrassed that you'd just openly admitted that. It wasn't something you tended to do, when making light chatter with customers. You grabbed the last beer, which was for him, and made your way around the table to set it down in front of him. "It's just such a great song, easy to choreograph to," you added, trying to make yourself sound less conceited, less interested in talking about yourself.

"It is great, haven't heard it in years," he responded, taking the beer from your hand as you moved to set it down.

"You've heard it before?" you asked, genuine shock in your tone. The band was not one very popular here; not a single person you knew had heard of them, and no one in the months you'd been performing it had mentioned knowing anything about the song.

"Yeah, my freshman roommate in college was from Ukraine and he played a lot of their music. He's a drag queen, I would go to his shows a lot. He actually did a routine to that song, too, for a while," he responded, turning in his seat a bit to better face you. By this point the rest of the table had fallen into another conversation; it seemed none of the rest of them had heard of the song before, or cared to learn much about it. Kind of made them seem like shitty friends, to you. But you were thankful for it, because all of the sudden it felt like you and this gorgeous man were all alone, your back against the west wall of the seating area, Sasha's voice booming through the speakers around you.

"Next time he's visiting I'll be sure to take him here, he'd love it," he added, taking a swig of his beer.

"Well we might not be performing that number anymore, depending on when he's coming. Our numbers are put on a rotation, and this one's overstayed it's welcome already. Though it's still quite popular, we might be able to perform it a while longer," you said, words coming easily, the normal walls you kept high when talking to customers nowhere to be found.

"That's too bad, I hope you get to keep it for a while. It's fucking great, you're a real genius," he said, looking up at you again with those perfect dimples.

"Thanks," you said, blushing, the smirk he was sending your way bringing sudden heat to your face. You'd had time now to take him in; his hair was black, short at the sides and longer on top, his suit black to match it. His skin was honey, smooth as can be, and his face was pure perfection, pouty lips and a perfect nose, a strong jaw, strong eyebrows. He was very masculine, but very pretty too, so stunning you couldn't believe your eyes. And his wire framed glasses held his look together perfectly; he looked sharp, smart, and confident. He looked the way you were pretty sure every man wished he looked in a suit.

"I don't usually say stuff like this, but, when are you free tonight? We're all headed to a huge party up in the East Heights after this, if you'd like to come. There's gonna be an open bar, a pool, it's supposed to be pretty crazy," he said, taking another quick sip of his beer, his face pure and calm as he said it.

'I don't usually say stuff like this' my ass, you thought. The words had flown off his tongue too easily for that to be believable. But it was working on you, his confidence. You'd experienced too many instances of vague flirting, of indirectness, of shaky voices and shakier hands. You'd dreamt of a moment like this, when someone saw you and liked what they saw, liked it enough to ask you out then and there with no hesitation.

"Uh, I get off at 12:30, when the bar closes," you answered him, words falling out of your mouth without intention. "I- uh- I'll need to think about it though. I wouldn't be comfortable coming by myself, would I be able to bring some friends?"

"Yeah, bring whoever you'd like. It's a big event, a few extra bodies should be no big deal," he responded, smirk turning to a full on smile. His teeth were perfect, god he was perfect, and you got lost in his face for a few seconds, resting your hip against the wall behind you, your lower lip grasped between your teeth.

"I'm San, by the way," he said, reaching out his free hand in your direction.

"Oh, yeah, I'm y/n," you replied, placing your hand in his. His handshake was strong, hand warm around yours, your fingers nearly disappearing in his palm.

"It's nice to meet you," he said, holding onto your hand for a second longer than needed, gently releasing it and looking you straight in the eyes.

"Nice to meet you too," you said awkwardly, eyes darting around the room. "I should probably get back to work, it was nice chatting with you," you said, finally walking around the table to grab the tray and bring it back to the bar.

"We'll be here till closing, so just let me know then if you'd like to come," he said, nodding in your direction as you started to turn.

"Okay, thanks," you said, smiling over your shoulder, before walking off hurriedly between tables, suddenly worried sick that you'd be in trouble for talking to him for too long.

"Titi, you still wanna go out tonight?" you asked as you rushed back into the locker room, two slices of sweet bread you stole from the kitchen in your hands.

"Yeah, you actually wanna?" she said excitedly, reaching forward to grab one of them from you.

"I just got invited to a party in the Easy Heights," you said, a bewildered look gracing your features.

"Hello? What?" she responded, her mouth open in a comical O.

"I don't even know, but yeah, apparently some big party is happening at a house up there? He said it will have an open bar and pool?" you said, shaking your head in disbelief at the words coming out of you.

"Who said this?" she asked, mouth full as she chowed down.

"He said his name is San, he's in that group at table four," you responded.

"Oh my god, Sasha was just telling me she was making eyes at one of those men," Tina laughed, a hand coming to your shoulder.

"Yeah, I saw that while we were performing Kalyna," you said, giggling too.

"You sure you wanna go to an East Heights party? There's definitely gonna be like coke and shit, probably worse. It might be crazy," she said, head tilting to the side.

"If it's awful we can just leave, but I kinda feel like going. I doubt we'll ever be invited to one of those again," you laughed, giving her an assured smile. "I kind of want to see what tomfoolery those rich assholes get up to."

"So this isn't about hanging out with that man?" she asked.

"He seems cool, but I think he might be gay," you said to her, crossing your arms.

"Um, why?"

"He said his roommate in college was a drag queen, and that he went to his shows a lot. And he talked to me way too confidently to be into me. If he's not gay, then he's definitely not interested," you said, shrugging.

"Babe, he invited you to a party with him, barely knowing you. He definitely finds you attractive," she said, giving you that look she does when she thinks you're being just a bit dumb.

"Okay, but, well-" you cut yourself off, holding your hands out in a gesture of pity. You were dumb when it came to this relationship stuff, downright stupid. You knew that, as frustrating as it was. You wanted to be confident in your suspicion he was into you, but you'd been wrong enough times when you were younger about this sort of thing to assume it now. You'd been made fun of countlessly in high school, person after person laughing at the mere thought that they'd be into you. You were always baffled; you'd been told by some other person that this person had a crush on you, and were only asking them about it because of that information. They were pranks, and it took you embarrassingly long to figure that out. You understood that now, you recognized it had just been childish bullying; but still, even years later, you doubted any instance of even a suggestion that someone found you attractive.

You were different back then; you'd changed so much in the few years you'd lived away from home. But still, you doubted yourself. Maybe you had a complex about being undesirable, but who didn't? And frankly, when you looked around the world, it seemed like more of the "ugly" people had partners than not. It must be more about personality, you reasoned, which made your undesirability all the more painful. A silly, sick side of you began to feel attached to being single, began to feel better than other people for it, even your ride or die perfect friend standing in front of you. You didn't need romantic love like everyone else did, you decided; you had your art to give you passion, your friends to give you companionship. And you could physically satisfy yourself just fine. It was all projection; it was how you coped. How else could you deal with the pain of never being loved, lusted after, wanted the way all of your friends had since puberty?

But even as attached to your single identity as you were, you'd perused the apps last year, a tiny buried part of you wishing and hoping that there was someone out there for you, perfect in every way. It had been a bust, as expected. You felt like a fool for even trying. You had hoped that it would give you at least a little self-esteem, even if no relationship came of it. But it had only driven that painful truth of your undesirable personality deeper into your heart, cracking it further.

"I don't even want a relationship right now, Ti, I've said that for like the past three months," you said, pulling your hands back to your chest. You felt your heart thumping there, trying desperately to come alive despite the year of terror you'd put it through.

"It doesn't have to be a relationship, you could just hook up with him, you know, have a little fun," she answered you, grabbing your hands in hers. "Let's go, let's have some fun. Just relax, spend the evening enjoying ourselves." You hadn't seen her so excited all winter; her moods were severely affected by this season, and it always felt like a part of her left you for the cold months. It made a complex mix of sadness and excitement swirl through you, staring back at her perfect face. There was no way you'd be saying no to her now, despite anything.

"Okay, fine," you sighed, pulling her into a tight hug.

It took little convincing for Sasha and Bibi to join you, and soon the four of you plus Maya were standing on the sidewalk outside, stuck like a barnacle to the side of San's huge group. You were all waiting on two limos, according to him; when he's said this the five of you looked between yourselves with huge wide eyes, grabbing each other's arms and trying desperately not to laugh.

"You realize none of us have ever been to the East Heights, right?" you said to him, the soft arm of his suit jacket brushing up against the exposed skin of your own upper arm.

"That's fine, I've only been once. It's nothing that crazy, the houses are just big," he said, looking down at you, his shoulders intimidatingly broad now that he was standing beside you.

"I thought you said this party is gonna be crazy though," you replied, squinting your eyes playfully.

"Well, it's possible. I don't really know," he responded.

"So you just said that to say it earlier?" you questioned him, head cocked to the side.

"I was trying to make my offer sound enticing," he replied, looking you up and down, that smirk back on his face.

"So you lied to me?" you shot back.

"Hey, like I said, I don't know much about this thing, it could very well be crazy," he responded, holding up his hands in surrender.

"Wow, what have I gotten us into," you said, turning to the group, all of whom were suppressing their laughter at the interaction unfolding in front of them.

"The best night of your life," he answered, nudging your shoulder in a way that almost could have been accidental, making your eyes snap back to his again.

"I hope that wasn't a lie," you said, eyeing him sharply.

"I'll make sure of it," he shot back, one eyebrow raised slightly.

A titter sounded behind you, Tina unable to keep her composure at the ridiculous bickering unfurling between you. Your eyes were locked on each other, faces closer than either of you realized. It was so damn obvious to all of your friends, then, what was about to happen. The two of you couldn't hide it for a second, how affect you were. You were still locked in eye contact when the first limo pulled up, the rest of San's group filing in, waving him goodbye.

"You can go with your friends if you'd like," you said as he closed the door, stepping back.

"Oh they're not really my friends, just guys I know through work. This whole thing tonight is a networking opportunity, what fun," he joked sarcastically, rolling his eyes a bit.

"Oh wow," you said, eyes glued to the limo as it pulled away. "People network at one in the morning?"

"Us tech bros do I guess, we just love it," he said, laughing sarcastically again. "I don't really like this stuff, but my manager is making me go. He gave me Monday off, so, I can't really complain."

"Wow, you have like a normal job," you said, laughing.

"And you don't?" he asked.

"I just mean, you work Monday to Friday, 9 to 5, right?" He nodded. "Yeah, I literally don't know a single other person who does. My mom is a doula, and my twin sister is a nurse, and my dad has early-onset Parkinson's so he's been on disability almost my whole life. And the rest of my friends work here, or work at other bars or restaurants around here. Even my best friend from high school works in a library at her university, but she works weekends and nights."

It all came stumbling out of you so fast, your hand shot up to your mouth.

"Sorry, that was crazy. Just forget all that shit about my dad..." you trailed off, eyes wide with worry as they met his.

"What shit about your dad?" he answered, and your expression immediately changed to one of relief, one of laughter. Just then the second limo pulled up to the curb, and the five of you excitedly gathered by the door, San opening it for you.

"Ladies," he said, bowing his head slightly and beckoning you all to step inside.

"None of us have ever been in a limo either," you told him, chuckling as your friends excitedly squealed while carefully entering the sleek black car.

"Uh, I have, speak for yourself miss thing," Bibi said as she crouched down, shooting you a look over her shoulder.

"Well damn, I guess one of us has," you said to San as you finally stepped inside, his body following quickly after you, rich laughter ringing in your ear.

San, it turned out, was most definitely not gay. Which of course, deep down, you'd already known. You'd known it from the moment he asked you to go to that party with him, from the moment he smirked and your body sizzled under his glare. But he was so different from anyone you'd dated before; too kind, too upfront, too knowledgeable about musicals and theater and all the things you loved so very much. It almost pained you to find out he'd been studying theater in college before switching to computer science. That was why he'd been paired with his freshman roommate; at the time, they'd had the same major. That roommate, Antin, became one of his best friends; the two bonded over coming from overseas, the pressure their parents put on them even thousands of miles away. It was so sweet, so charming, and in the two hours you spent at that raucous party, you learned what seemed like all there was to know about him.

He was too perfect; it was too easy to say yes when he'd asked if you wanted to see his apartment, too easy to bid your friends goodnight as your Uber pulled up in front of their places. You thought of nothing but the hunk beside you, about what he'd look like with that suit strewn on the ground. You tried not to jump his bones the second you were alone, but damn was it hard; as soon as you arrived he'd taken your purse, and placed it in the front closet of his apartment. His apartment was huge, his front closet bigger than the bathroom you shared with three other roommates; it was fancy too, well kept, stacks of books and DVDs in the living room, only two dirty dishes in the bottom of his kitchen sink.

It was all simply too good to be true, and in that moment nothing felt real. You were present, sure, but you felt like you'd been knocked into an alternative timeline, getting to live out the life of someone far better than you, who deserved all this.

"Aren't you hot in that suit?" you asked him, your loose minidress hanging free, your body unburdened with extra fabric. You always kept a few random clothes at work in case you needed to change suddenly, and even though it was the last day of January, this tiny dress had been a great option. Outside you'd thrown a large old flannel of your dad's over it, but at the party you'd tied it around your waist, the mass of bodies creating more heat than you could bear.

"Yeah, I was sweating all night," he laughed, slowly and methodically pulling off his suit jacket, finally revealing the shape of his shoulders to you. Under his white button-up they bulged; you did all you could to stop yourself from just staring, especially as he loosened his tie and finally pulled from his head, setting it down on the small table just inside his front door.

"You can put your shoes in there, if you'd like. Oh and your shirt, here, let me hang it up," he said, reaching for the flannel still tied around your waist. His touch was electric as soon as his hands made contact; even through the material of your dress you felt the spark, your body shivering. It only lasted a second, his nature too respectful to make anything more of a moment like that, especially after what you'd said at the party to him not twenty minutes ago. You wished you could have frozen time, wished every little detail of this night could be burned into your memory forever. It would be hard to believe then that you'd forget a lot of it in just a year, that somehow so much would happen that this one night would come to feel almost insignificant.

"Can I make you some hot cocoa, or tea, coffee?" he asked as he walked towards his kitchen, pouring you both glasses of water.

"Some herbal tea sounds nice, if you have any," you answered, and he opened his pantry to reveal a small collection. You picked out the lavender mix that sounded refreshing, placing the purple tea bag in a black mug he'd set down on the counter. As he set his tea kettle to boil, you hopped up on the counter beside him, bare feet swinging in air.

"So, you think that was the best night of my life?" you quipped, looking sideways at him as he set the kettle to temperature.

"Night's not over," he responded, eyebrows flicking up in amusement.

You were squirming under his gaze, your face now level with his. His shirt and pants fit him immaculately; you were so obviously ogling him, your thighs rubbing together as you did, your eyelids heavy with lust. He could feel it pouring off of you, but he kept replaying what you'd said, and kept trying to keep his composure, because he really wasn't that guy. He wasn't the guy who slept with the girl right away; he had known too many of those guys at college, seen too many of them back home too, when he visited his brother in the fall. He found the hookup culture he was surrounded by almost unnerving. He'd been raised with integrity, with respect; and being here in a new country had challenged his beliefs, for sure, but not when it came to sex or romance.

But you were determined. Your body had a mind of its own, and this whole night had felt surreal for hours now. Your own, already loose morals were thrown out the window, and you didn't give a fuck. You wanted him now, forget whatever the hell you'd said earlier; you didn't even remember it anymore, too filled with arousal to think straight.

You grabbed onto his arm closest to you, pulling him in.

"Hey, I thought you said-"

You cut him off with a kiss, pulling his face towards yours, leaning back slightly to arch into him. It was feverish as your lips met, mouths open, your legs already shaking as you wrapped them around his waist. It didn't take long for his hands to find your hips, your waist; he dug in, feeling the softness of you, softness he wanted to be wrapped in forever. He'd kept his composure the whole way here, not putting a hand on your thigh in the Uber, not a hand on your back as you walked through his front door. But now, it had left him; just five seconds of you in his grasp, and he knew he could never let go. His tongue swiped into your mouth, sucking hard on your lower lip, and without thinking he was reaching under your dress, feeling over the bare expanse of skin.

You hadn't worn a bra or panties tonight. He could tell about the bra, from the way your dress caught on your chest, but the panties were a surprise, making his head fuzzy as he reached down to your ass and found it bare for him. Your hands now were desperately grabbing at his over-shirt, trying in vain to undo each pesky button as you kept kissing him, your hands stumbling and failing over and over. Finally, he reached up and just ripped his shirt open, buttons popping and falling onto the floor in a soft rattle. He flung it off his arms, his tight under shirt leaving nothing anymore to your imagination. His abs rippled underneath it; you'd never seen abs like that in person before, weren't sure that they even existed. Especially not on a man who worked in tech, whose face was prettier than a porcelain doll's.

He came back to you, breathing hard; you grabbed at his abdomen, his shoulders, his chest, desperate to feel all of the perfection in front of you. You could smell the sweat on him now, musky and rich notes hitting your nose and making your body heat even more. He moved his mouth to your neck, your ear, making you whine and squirm with pleasure, sharp sparklers of energy running down the entirety of your body. You were pulling at him, desperately, forgetting any sense of where you were, or what you'd planned for tonight. As he licked a stripe up your collar bone you squealed loudly, the feeling ticklish and pleasurable all the same, and you jerked away from him momentarily, falling into a fit of giggles.

Suddenly there was a crash; the mug next to you was sent flying to the floor by your hip, and now it's pieces spread out across the grey tile, littering it in shards.

"Fuck, sorry," you gasped, your hands flying up to cover your open mouth. You were expecting maybe a light chuckle, maybe a shocked noise, for San to want to clean this up right away before you two got to whatever you were doing; instead he laughed deeply, his bright, wide smile back on his face, dimples staring you in the face for the probably thousandth time that night. He looked down to each side of his feet, sighing ever so slightly, before moving his gaze back up to you, his eyes thoughtful.

"Fuck it," he laughed with a shake of his head, grabbing you again, his hand on the back of your neck, soft lips wrapped around your own. You giggled into his mouth, so overcome by the chaotic set of events; but it only took a moment of his lips on yours again for you to melt, your legs around him, your breathing hot and heavy as he grabbed at your dress, pulling it up at the front to reveal your bare crotch to the room, running two of his fingers down your slit to see how wet you were.

"Fuck, San," you gasped, feeling how easily his slippery fingers moved, his movement unexpected.

"You want this, right?" he asked you, voice husky and deep. His eyes were boring into yours, and his look was dark and intense. It made you shiver to look back at him, and a part of you wanted to look away, to not feel the complex string of emotions tumbling through you. It almost felt like dread; dread laced with beauty, laced with desire and sweetness and everything addictive, and you just couldn't bring the rest of yourself to look away.

"Yes, please," you responded, pushing your hips down onto his hand, grinding onto his fingers. "Please fuck me, San."

You'd never said anything like this in your life; you'd only imagined it, or read it. As cheesy as it could feel on the page, in that moment it felt consumingly empowering, downright sexy. You pulled at his belt in front of you, your mouths meeting again, his teeth scraping over your upper lip as he nearly devoured you. Once again, you struggled with undoing his clothing; he moved his hands away from you to unclasp it himself, pulling it hard and tossing it to the ground when he had. Your hands were around his chin, holding his face to you as you messily kept kissing, his hands now working on the button and zipper of his jeans. In a matter of moments he'd pulled his hard cock out of his pants, and held it in his hand, hungrily eyeing your flushed cunt in front of him.

"Let me get a condom," he huffed, clearly having to work at pulling his eyes away from you.

"No, I have an implant," you said, pointing to your left arm. You saw his eyes twitch to side for a moment, like his brain was struggling to process what you'd just said. "It's fine, I can't get pregnant," you added, in case he didn't know what the hell you were trying to say. It took another few moments for him to accept it; but once he did he moved his cock closer to your aching entrance, and rubbed it along your slit where his fingers had been just seconds ago.

"Fuck," you sighed, head hitting his shoulder as he leaned into you, as he spread your wetness over his tip. Your closed eyes cloaked you in almost darkness, only the soft light in the kitchen illuminating the room, and all you could feel was your throbbing cunt and San's movements, already whimpering and moaning in his ear. He lined himself up carefully, pulling your hips to the very edge of the counter to give him room, and slowly sank halfway down.

"Oh my god," you squeaked, the stretch not at all what you expected. He was far bigger than any man you'd ever been with; it almost hurt, and you'd never experienced this before, so you had no idea if this was a hurt that would subside, or a hurt that would grow and fester. You clung to his shoulders for dear life as he slowly pulled out of you again, thrusting back in just slightly deeper, his movements slow and controlled.

"Ahhh, shit," you whined again, grip on his shoulders even tighter.

"I need you to relax for me," he said in your ear, the vibrations of his voice sending tremors of pleasure through you.

"I'm trying," you squeaked out, face stuck in his neck as you tried to breath slowly.

"Need me to stop?" he asked, stilling his movements completely, holding onto your lower back for support.

"No, please don't stop," you whispered, finally finding some control of your breath. "Just give me a second."

San obliged, kissing the top of your head as he ran a comforting hand down your back. You continued to breathe deep, continued to take in his scent, and in a few short moments you felt the walls of your cunt finally release a bit, allowing you to rock yourself against him without pain.

"Okay, I'm ready," you said, bracing yourself, and a moment later you felt him push himself in further, finally bottoming out. You both let out a guttural groan; it felt like you'd discovered new parts of yourselves in that moment, like your bodies were made for each other, made to pleasure each other just the way you needed.

"Fuck, y/n," San moaned your name, your walls tight around him as he pulled back again, thrusting short and soft at first. Hearing your name roll of his tongue made your chest swell; it was far to intense, all of these emotions you were having, for you to utter a thing. Soon he was thrusting faster, setting a steady pace as he held firm onto your hips, his mouth on your neck leaving bruising bites that you'd have to deal with tomorrow. You were breathing ragged, an eruption of feelings so perfect coming from your core that you couldn't quite believe it.

Then it happened; he picked you up by your hips, holding you dead in the air, still thrusting into you. If anything his thrusts were harder, deeper now; the position had given him space, and he used every bit of it, his thrusts becoming longer, harder, his cock nearly falling out of you when he pulled out. Your moans turned to screams; you were no longer aware at all of what sounds you were making, so overcome with the severe intensity of the feelings in your core.

"Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god," you started babbling, breathing desperately, your hands again grasping at his shoulders.

"What?" he asked between grunts, a chuckle following.

"I didn't- fuck- think this was po-ossible," you stuttered, his thrusts not letting up, the feeling so intense it almost was zapping you back into the moment again, reversing the drifting that your mind had started to do. This felt real; felt too real, too intense. You swore you could feel every vein in his shaft, feel the exact shape of his head. Your orgasm was building, fast, and you'd never come just from penetration.

"Now you know, baby," he chuckled again, not letting up. Soon you were clenching hard, the rippling feelings of your climax building to their peak, your legs around his hips, squeezing him.

"Fuck, fuck," you screamed, biting down on the top of his shoulder, shaking hard.

"Did you come?" he asked, still thrusting hard, wanting you to ride it out as much as you could.

"Yes," you almost sobbed, drool dripping down onto his bare skin. "Slow down," you whined, and he did, gradually slowing his movements until he'd stopped, placing a quick kiss on your neck and making you squeal again.

After that, the night was a blur. He took you again, on the couch, and you came so many times you couldn't keep track. He was flipping you around, holding up your legs; he seemed to know every perfect angle to make your cunt feel even better, and you gladly accepted every movement from him. When he finally came he dropped down between your legs, eating you out as his cum dropped out of you, his face a flushed mess when he looked up to take a breath. You came again; finally, you begged him to stop. Your body was spent, you couldn't take anymore. When you looked at your phone it was nearly six in the morning, and when you ventured a look over to his kitchen window you recognized the first signs of winter dawn, the sky not as dark as it had been.

He made you stay put, cleaning you up in a fluffy towel, picking you up to carry you to his bedroom. He helped you out of your dress; then his own clothes came off entirely, and you ogled him all over again, as he scolded you and told you to get some much needed sleep. Wrapped around him your cunt seemed to stay permanently wet; you thought there was no way you'd fall asleep, but it was late, even for you. Soon you were both out cold, San's blackout curtains tricking your bodies. It wasn't until nearly three that afternoon that you woke.

"You stay, I'll go make us some food," San yawned, kissing your forehead, your face smushed in his chest.

"Are you sure?" you pouted, looking up at him. Even with his curtains open the sky outside was dark; what time it was now, you had no idea. After you awoke and showered, the two of you couldn't keep your hands off of each other. Another slew of hours had flown by, and your pussy was aching, begging you to give her a break. You couldn't help how fucking good it felt, though. You wanted it to never end. You were sure you could be satisfied with your life if all you ever did from now on was fuck him.

"Oh god, don't give me that look," he groaned, turning his head away. You laughed, tugging yourself on top of him, wrapping your arms and legs around his torso. "I thought you said you were hungry," he said, arms around you too.

"I am," you answered, snuggling into him.

"Well I can't make you food if you're laying on top of me," he responded, squeezing the tops of your thighs.

"I think you're definitely strong enough to carry me around," you said, giggling.

"Oh, is that what you want? You done with walking?" he joked, pinching your thigh.

"Ah, hey!" you squealed, jerking off of him, trying to reach for his ribs to tickle him in retaliation. But just then your stomach rumbled, so loud you both could hear.

"Come on, let me make food. What do you want?" he asked, sitting himself up.

"Do you have eggs?" you said, and he nodded. "Can you make just some toast and scrambled eggs?"

"Of course, anything else?" he responded, standing up off the bed. The naked form of him in front of you was so distracting, especially in the hazy light coming in from outside, the evening street lights shining in through San's huge window. You took a mental screenshot; no one else could ever look this good, you thought, in such low light. It accentuated every nook and cranny of his body; he was so perfectly built, every little part. It was hard not to stare at the curve of his ass as he threw on some sweats, or the muscles of his back as he stretched his arms.

"No, I just have that for breakfast every day. I like simple food," you said, yawning again and sitting yourself up.

"Me too," he smiled, looking back at you for a moment before exiting the room, clinks sounding from the kitchen as he started preparing.

It took you some time to finally get yourself up; your body was wracked with exhaustion, but you'd never felt better. You felt on a permanent high around him; you grabbed your crumpled dress from the floor and slipped it over yourself, finally walking out to the living room to check your phone, which was probably dead. As you came out you saw San on the floor cleaning, the remnants of that poor mug swept into a pile at the corner of his kitchen.

"Oh shit, let me help you with that," you said, making your way over, but San stopped you.

"No, don't walk over here, you'll cut your feet. I'll take care of it, it's no biggie." You stared at him with wide eyes for a moment, but already this dynamic felt comfortable. If he really was fine with it, then you were fine letting him deal with the mess you'd made. You turned on your heel and walked over the couch, grabbing your phone off the coffee table, checking the time.

|6:14 pm|

You saw a slew of texts, but your battery was at ten percent, so you ran to your purse to grab your charging cable, plugging it in.

{Titi}

|3:43pm| how was your night bestie?? |5:58pm| please tell me you didn't get kidnapped |6:14pm| fuck sorry, I hadn't looked at my phone till now |6:14pm| I am alive and well

|6:15pm| oh thank god, we were worried |6:15pm| nothing to be worried about 😌 |6:16pm| so how'd it go?? |6:16pm| girl, we fucked for like three hours last night 😭 |6:16pm| HELLO |6:16pm| are you okay??? 😭 |6:17pm| Maya just said you're putting us lesbians to shame 💀 |6:17pm| 💀💀 |6:17pm| we fucked for like three hours this morning too |6:17pm| GIRL |6:17pm| RIP to your vagina |6:18pm| she's never been happier 😭

|6:18pm| this is so crazy |6:18pm| you home now? |6:18pm| I KNOW |6:18pm| no I'm still here, he's making some food for us

|6:18pm| wow |6:18pm| just wow, idk what else to say 😭 |6:19pm| girl same |6:19pm| you busy tomorrow? |6:19pm| no, why? |6:19pm| I'll bring over some dinner at seven, I have so much to tell you |6:19pm| I can't wait 💕

Present

It was nearly noon, when you woke. Slowly your consciousness came back to you; at first you only felt the warmth of the sheets beneath you, and you knew for sure you weren't in your bed, nor on your friend's couch like you'd planned. You were in the place you'd ended up so many times this month; maybe close to twenty of the nights of January you'd spent here. Thinking of it pulled at you. You knew this was a mistake, ending up here, knew something terrible would come of this. But you hadn't had the will this morning to stop it. You woke grumpy, worried, with the events of the morning spiraling through your head, especially Tina's flushed face of agony and the guttural sounds she made as she threw up.

You were worried, as much as she told you not to be. You'd never seen her like this in the five years you'd known her. As soon as your eyes melted open you were reaching for your phone on the night stand, finding it plugged in to San's charger, a glass of water there too.

You shot off a quick text to your group chat with Tina and Maya. How are y'all feeling? You didn't want to smother them with your worry, so you kept it as casual as you could, sipping at the water beside you and scrolling mindlessly through the other notifications littering your screen. There would be no convincing Tina to go get checked out; you had to accept it, had to welcome the fact that it'd be you and Maya keeping her well. She mistrusted doctors, on top of the unneeded expense, and you completely understood why; with the experiences she'd had, there would be no reason to give them a second chance. But she'd always had a stomach of steel; to see her so unwell was unnerving you, tremendously.

Finally you pushed yourself up; your stomach was rumbling, your head still aching with exhaustion, but the feeling was duller than this morning. The sleep you'd just woken from had been helpful, no doubt, but you wished you felt a little more normal today, instead of sleep deprived and emotionally unsteady. You had important work to do; you needed to head home fast, needed to not get distracted by San like you always did. You couldn't afford to spend the rest of the afternoon here eating and watching a musical, forcing him to recreate it with you. You had a musical of your own to edit.

"Hey," he said when you poked your head out of his room, walking gingerly over to him in the kitchen. He was preparing some lunch for himself; a block of tofu lay resting on the counter, as San chopped peppers and onions and broccoli. The smells of ginger and garlic already wafted from the pan, and San stood shirtless, in just grey sweat pants as he cooked, looking like someone out of any person's dreams.

"Hey," you responded, sighing. His body was alight with energy; he must have hit the gym while you were sleeping, which always left him feeling perky and bright. It was wafting off of him, this positive energy, and it couldn't have conflicted more with the heavy stress coursing through you. It was abundant in your tone; you'd gotten less and less good at hiding it from him, how you felt. Especially this last month.

"You want some breakfast?" he asked you, tossing the onions and peppers into his pan before stirring them with a spatula.

"I can make it," you mumbled, crossing past him to the refrigerator and grabbing the carton of eggs from the bottom shelf.

"Let me do it, I know you're exhausted," he said, coming over to you to grab the carton from your hands.

"No, I want to," you sighed, holding it to your side and out of his reach, a grumpy frown on your face.

"Okay, if you insist," he responded, palms up. Your terrible mood was worrying him deeply, but he was trying to convince himself that everything was fine, that this afternoon was in fact the time to finally do it. He'd been at the gym almost two hours, pumping himself up, doing every exercise he could think of to distract himself from the dread that was slowly filling him. It was like sand in an hour glass, falling slowly enough that he could forget it if he tried. Which he'd successfully done all morning, until your tired form appeared from his bedroom door.

You started preparing your food in silence, the sizzling of San's stir fry and clinking of dishes the only sounds in the room. You were thankful you'd be leaving him in a good mood; it was always hard to leave when he was sad, or grumpy, because every single part of you needed to make him feel better, needed a happy look on his face for you to feel okay. There was no doubt he was meal prepping for the week, given the amount of food he was making, and you sighed in hoping that the future days were on his mind now, instead of the past few.

"I realized something this morning," he said out of nowhere, tossing in his chopped tofu. Your eggs had just finished, so you turned off the burner, plopped them onto your plate, and grabbed your two slices of bread from the toaster, carefully spreading on the perfect amount of butter.

"What's that?" you asked, mind still elsewhere, running in circles and figure eights.

"We met exactly one year ago, today," he said, voice bright and breathy.

"Oh shit, really?" you asked, grabbing a fork from the cutlery drawer, then shoving a piece of toast in your mouth.

"Yeah, don't you remember?" he responded, voice lilting a bit. You mindlessly stuffed some eggs in your mouth, savoring the flavor of the local organic eggs that San always had in stock.

"Yeah, I just didn't realize it was that da-" you cut yourself off when you saw his face, his eyes glassy and jaw set. "Sannie, oh my god, don't cry. I'm not that special," you said, almost scoffing at the emotion coming off of him.

"Yes you are," he said, turning back to the pan on the stove, wiping something that must have been a tear off his cheek with the back of his hand.

"I'm really not," you responded, walking back towards his bedroom to find your phone again, which you'd accidentally left behind. Inside his room you could hear him speak from the kitchen, but you couldn't make out the words. You were distracted by the text you'd received from Maya, i'm doing even better, but Titi is still pretty bad. the Tylenol and everything has been so helpful though. and whatever those anti-nausea meds were, please thank San for me. she's able to keep down fluids now.

I'm glad to hear that. I hope she keeps getting better. She looked awful this morning, you responded, typing it out with your right thumb as your left hand balanced your plate of food.

"You gonna eat in here?" San asked from the doorway, and you snapped your head around to meet his gaze.

"No, sorry, just checking my phone. I had texted Maya asking how they were doing," you responded, mouth in a tight line.

"How's Tina?" he asked.

"Fine, it sounds like. Maya said to thank you for all the stuff you got them," you said.

"It's no biggie. I'm glad it's helping," he said, eyes blinking and face neutral. No biggie, the words made you want to roll your eyes. It was always 'no big deal' to him to do so much, and you'd started to realize that those words were total fucking bullshit. 'No biggie' was seemingly just a favorite English phrase of his, one that made him sound selfless and kind in the way he wanted to be. But you could see the flash of irritation in his eyes, you knew damn well that he was upset that you'd called this morning and made him feel obligated to come and help. He'd wanted your thanks for doing so, which you could recognize was fair. But he also should have said no, if he really didn't want to do it. You couldn't help the fact that he'd been lax with you since the start; one year now, as he'd just reminded you, of you pushing his boundaries and him relenting, and somehow he was still frustrated every time it happened. Like he didn't realize this was just how things were.

You waited till he turned around to point your eyes to the ceiling, a long deep sigh matching the movements of your eyes. You just had to eat and get out of here, one simple task. Then you could be home and worrying about the work ahead of you, or you could be on the phone to Tina and checking on her. You couldn't wait for the relief of hearing her voice.

"Did you hear what I said earlier?" San asked as you walked out of his room, sitting yourself down on his couch to finish your food.

"I don't know, what did you say?" you asked, placing your phone face down next to you.

"I asked if you remembered what you said to me that night we met, right before we came here?" he said, his own bowl of food in hand as he sat down a few feet from you.

"I don't think I do," you responded, sighing as you took another huge bite.

"Really?" he asked you, an eyebrow raised.

"Yes really, San, was it something I should remember?" you asked.

"It's just kind of funny, given what happened next," he said, taking a bite of his stir fry. You gave him a confused look, head cocking to the side. "You said, 'sure I'll come to your apartment, but I'm not fucking you'," he said, chuckling.

"I did not," you scoffed, shaking your head at the thought of it.

"You did, I swear," he continued, eyeing you. "Kind of crazy considering that's exactly what you did for the next forty-eight hours."

"Oh my god, shut up," you rolled your eyes, grabbing the throw pillow to your right and smacking his arm with it. He laughed and batted it away, careful to protect his food as you swung it recklessly. "Also, you say that as if I'm the only one involved in that activity, you ass. That was very much a 'it takes two to tango' situation, Sannie."

San laughed hard in response to that, his dimples popping and his chest rising and falling with each chuckle. He was satisfied to have brought out some humor in you; he knew that was the way he could get you to calm down, to feel a little better and be ready for everything he was about to launch into.

"Do you know that you're the only one other than my mom that I let call me Sannie?" he said, voice softer.

"No I didn't- wait, why?" you asked, suddenly really thinking about what he'd said.

"Uh- you just, I..." he looked at you with a confusing expression, face a mixture of what looked like shock and anticipation.

"Sannie is a special nickname only your mom uses for you?" you asked, tone harsher than he'd hoped.

"Yeah," he sighed, looking at you.

"Then why do you let me call you that?" you asked, placing your finished plate of food on the coffee table in front of you, then leaning back and crossing your legs and arms.

"Cause you're special to me," he said, resting the side of his head on his palm, eyeing you deeply now.

"San- I- I thought that was what everyone called you, I thought it was just your nickname. I wouldn't have started calling you that if I'd known it was a you and your mom thing. I'm not trying to be some replacement for her, or something," you stuttered, hands gesturing in front of your face to emphasize your point.

"Of course you're not a replacement for here, god, you're just special to me, can't you understand-"

"San, why would I be the only one who gets to use the special nickname? You have closer friends, a brother, other family you're close to, I'm just a girl you sleep with sometimes. I'm not the love of your life, or something, we're not married with a baby on the way, and now that we're a family unit of our own you're letting me use this special name for you. We're just friends, why didn't you tell me!?" you snapped, cutting him off mid sentence without a care in the world.

"We're not just friends, y/n," he grumbled, face stony. "And I don't see what a big deal it is that I let you use that nickname. You're the one who started using it without even asking me if it was okay," he shot back, face and body completely still.

"Fuck you," you muttered, standing up and grabbing your plate, walking over to the sink to clean it. "I know you think everything bad between us is my fault; you probably somehow think that shit you pulled last night is my fault, too."

"I wanted to talk to you about that, I wanted to apologize-"

"Oh, you wanted to apologize for choking me? Slapping me? Practically raping me?" you turned around, staring at him with wide, petulant eyes.

"Oh god, please don't use that word," he sighed, his food long abandoned as he leaned forward and put his head in his hands.

"Why, cause it's honest?" you shot back, rolling your eyes at him.

"I'm sorry, I'm really sorry I did that baby, I know it was wrong, it was so wrong, I'm just, please know I'm so fucking sorry and I'll do anything I can to make it up to you..." he trailed off, mumbling, a deep sniffle cutting off his words. He was sobbing into his hands, his bare shoulders moving up and down as he heaved, trying with all his might to stop himself from completely breaking down. The sight of it immediately shot right through you; you started crying too, in an instant a huge deluge of tears falling down your cheeks and onto the floor below. It was so painful, whatever this feeling was; it was like the entire foundation of your body was cracking, like you were about to crumble in on yourself and die on the spot.

"Sannie, please, stop crying," you managed to say, haphazardly wiping the tears from your eyes. But they kept coming; they wouldn't stop until his stopped, you realized; there was something in you that was breaking with him, like your beratement of him was a boomerang, swinging back and hitting you too.

"I can't, I'm sorry," he squeaked, and you'd never heard his voice like that, never seen him break down so severely.

"Sannie, please," you cried, and suddenly your feet were rushing over to him, and you wrapped your hands around his folded torso, your tears now falling onto the smooth plane of his back. "Please, when you cry I cry, and I don't wanna fucking cry right now."

It made him cry harder, hearing the desperation in your tone; he tried with all his might to calm himself, to take some deep breaths. But he didn't have the strength; the exhaustion from this past month was really catching up with him, and that high he was riding from the gym this morning was long gone. There was nothing he could do now to stop this; he never cried like this, he was sure the last time was more than a decade ago. He had no idea how to put an end to it.

"I'm sorry I used that word, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," you chocked out, breathing through your tears as best as you could, holding onto him for dear life. There were no words on his tongue; he couldn't think of anything now, couldn't remember a single thing he'd planned to say to you, the conversation he'd worked himself up to all morning. Instead he was left with this terrible hollow hole in his chest; one you had created, one you filled, one that he feared more than anything. Your tears were the worst thing for him; the gash you'd carved only grew, deeper, wider, getting closer to the exact shape of you, and all he could do was sit himself up and grab you, wrapping you around him and holding you tight.

"You're not just my friend," he said, voice thin and weak with tears. "And right now I fucking hate you."

next part ->

Taglist: @felixs-voice-makes-me-wanna @starhwa1024 @pyeongstarr @hwaromi @completelyjae

@midnightrebel1028 @pautiny27

Thank you for reading and supporting me my loves! <3333

[gatorbites-imagines]

Since you’re still doing thruples and polycules

Can you do more Dick x Reader x Wally please?

And if its not too much trouble can you make the reader a Thanagarian too? i.e:Hawgirl and Hawkman

Thanagarians are so cool and dont get enough attention

-thanks and lots of love as always

Dick Grayson x Wally West x Thanagarian male reader

Headcanons

Hi guys, how’s everyone doing? I haven’t been this tired in a while, and I feel myself spiraling almost daily when I get home from my internship, but I’m trying to cope. How’s everyone else’s week been? This also means I’m so tired I’ve been struggling to do anything but sleep when I get home, but I wanted to try writing again.

Sorry if this is a bit messy, im very tired.

In this story we are going with the hawkpeople we know, coming from space. Since that’s the origin I know, and I don’t know a whole lot about the whole ancient Egypt storyline.

There could be many different ways you came to earth and when, but lets assume its some time after Dick becomes Nightwing and Wally The Flash, since Thanagarians live for longer than humans.

Maybe you work alongside the titans, or with the justice league like Carter and Shayera, maybe you even work by yourself.

Perhaps you’re somewhat of a revel amongst your people, which is why you left. You figured out how to make wings and armor like others, and wanting to be yourself and make your own decisions, you left.

This would lead to you working alongside different heroes, but in this scenario, mostly Dick and Wally.

Dick and Wally would both already be dating when you show up, but they can’t deny you are pretty damn handsome, even if it takes months for them to see you without your helmet. It’s similar enough to Hawkman and Hawkwoman that your origin is obvious, but you stand out in your own ways.

I also see Wally sighing sadly when they learn the wings aren’t natural, and that they’re mechanical, since he wanted to help you preen your feathers for bonding reasons.

It takes a while for you to learn to trust them, and for them to trust you in return. But it happens, and with that comes feelings. I have a feeling Dick would start feeling attracted to you first, or rather hes the first to realize since hes so used to looking into himself and his feelings.

It would take Wally a while, and even longer to accept that what hes feeling for you is the same thing he feels for Dick.

Dick knows that his heart is big enough to love multiple people, hes just never acted on it. Wally on the other hand fears somehow hurting Dick, and that he will become a cheater or monster for these feelings.

As Dick and Wally spend way too long accepting their feelings and talking about them, you just kinda hang out. Maybe you’ve set up your own base in your own city, with your own gaggle of villains and allies.

You would have started feeling drawn to the two heroes as well, but its so clear that they’re dating that you take a step back, not wanting to step on anyone’s toes.

Being a hero of your own city with your own villains and allies, also means you will start having your own romance. Maybe its not an exact romance, but it could develop into one. Think like Bruce and Selina, or Clark and Lois.

Hearing you mention this budding romance during on of your hangouts makes Dick and Wally finally jump into gear, since they know the chance of wooing you and confessing is dwindling.

Cue the two putting their heads together as well as they can to somehow woo their winged wonder without scaring you away.

Insert Dick using the batcomputer and bat-archive to look up everything the bats know about thanagarians, wanting to see if theres anything specific in your culture they can do to woo you. If it gets really bad, Wally might even just end up asking hawkwoman and hawkman about it, getting the info right from the source.

Shayera and Carter think it’s cute, so they help where they can, acting as the perfect wingmen, pun intended.

You tolerate them most of the time, since you guys are the closest to family you have, you do get suspicious when they start helping around your city so you can spend more time with Wally and/or Dick.

In the end they woo you the earth way, since you express regularly how much you love earth and its people, and how creative they are. Being given flowers was strange to you. You hadn’t expected it, since you were a big tough warrior and all, but the flowers left you flustered.

After that success, the two kept going when they had time outside of patrol and their daily civilian lives, even if that involved just texting you every day. Wally had a much easier time visiting you almost daily with his speed, where Dick had to take not being able to see you always.

At some point the two finally muster up the courage to confess, probably after some dramatic situation or patrol, the good ol “we cant lose you because we love you” scenario.

First you think you have misheard them, until they both take the step and kiss you, one at a time. Your eyes just widen almost comically, your helmet askew and wings quivering.

Part of you wanted to fly away to curl up under your blankets to give yourself time to blush and sputter about this, as well as give time to think about your own feelings, but the two are just so bright and intense that you cant help but buckle.

The small romance you had budding with someone else in your city never mattered much, it was just a situation that developed into more, so you don’t feel guilt about starting to date them.

It was strange to date two guys at once. Part of you feared that you would be set aside or forgotten since Dick and Wally had dated for much longer, and had a much longer history before you even showed up.

Your boyfriends of course never allowed you to think that, both of them being very affectionate in their own ways, which was different compared to you, who could be colder and have a harder time expressing your feelings.

In the end, Wally doesn’t get to preen your wings like he had hoped, but he gets to polish them. He catches you doing that yourself one day, and he immediately jumps in, asking if he can do it instead.

Its also a bonus that you are shirtless when he has to do this, allowing your speedster time to gawk at your back for however long he wanted.

Dick does it too sometimes, but mostly leaves it to Wally since you guys know it brings him a lot of joy and satisfaction. Instead, Dick will polish your helmet and weapon if he’s feeling frisky. Its kinda like foreplay sometimes. And sometimes it’s just because he’s being nice.

And of course you take them out flying on the regular. Like yeah, they could fly in so many ways, but being carried in your arms is the best.

[peace-hunter]

https://www.tumblr.com/peace-hunter/774219053379239936/baby-op-has-a-favorite-and-is-not-afraid-to-let

OK FIRST OF ALL HOW DARE YOU??! We got baby Orion, look at that bean, so small and cute, but at what cost? The cost of our hearts being shattered….

Now the dramatics are over! The Megatronus doll?! I can hear d-16 seething in jealousy somewhere lmao.

Please tell me I’m not seeing things and Prima pulled out a weapon when he heard the door open?! Ready to defend but not when it was needed most because sentinel is a little bitch.

ZETA BEING ORIONS FAVE?! (It’s so cool you included that because it is part of canon, it’s in the movie novelisation if anyone is curious)

It’s so much more tragic with that piece of info, the way you drew Orion feeling like he’s lost something and having to be snapped out of it 😭 I love your art so much.

It does raise a question though, how old is Orion? Did he age slower or did sentinel do something to was with his ageing?

baby prime orion au

AKJSHDKAHDA THANK YOU I'M GLAD YOU ENJOYED IT!!! and that it seemed to hit the way i wanted it to! it is my mission with this au to make it unbearably cute and painful as fuck <33

that doll... i have plans for that doll.... no spoilers but it will come back...

AND YES THANK YOU FOR NOTICING THAT!! you're the first person i see that points out Prima's reaction to hearing someone come in! he's a little (a lot) overprotective of OP and he's always on guard even when they're deep in the tower where no one but their siblings and some trusted members of the High Guard are allowed to enter. he's also lowkey training OP to keep quiet when he hears someone come into his room and to be cautious of strangers. he doesn't want his baby brother to be scared of the world but he just... wants to keep him safe at all costs. most of the primes think he's being a little paranoid but he Does Not Care. once OP is older and can take care of himself they can talk about his anxiety but until then he's sticking to his guns.

and fun fact! when Sentinel sent his trackers to take custody of Optimus during his coup, it took them just long enough to search his rooms for him to allow the High Guard to send reinforcements and take him away. so. anxiety for the win babeeey⁓

and yeah zeta being OP's favorite is directly taken from the novel! in my mind Prima is OP's primary caretaker with everyone else taking turns to switch out with him, but Zeta being the matrix holder doesn't get the chance to do it as often as everyone else. so him dropping by is a special occasion! and because he doesn't want to ruin the little time he gets with his baby brother with anything, he lowkey spoils Optimus the most. so it's a mix of novelty and over-indulgence that gives him the edge over everyone else 🤭

AND YEAH THAT'S EXACTLY WHAT I WAS GOING FOR! in this au OP is looking for the matrix for the good of everyone, he does believe bringing it back is the best thing for their society but deep down he also hopes it will fix the gaping wound in his spark he's been nursing his entire life. and when he sees Zeta Prime's lifeless body he knows the matrix being missing from it should be the thing he should focus on but... it's really not. and he doesn't understand why.

and orion's age is... something i kinda hoped no one would remember to ask about (/▽＼)

jk but for real he's about 52 cycles old. he's definitely older than the rest of the squad for at least a decade! buuuuut as a prime he also does age slower than them. this one is not on sentinel, it's just a him/prime thing. a small part of dee's frustration with orion in this au is because he's under the impression that they're more or less the same age but orion acts much more immaturely than he should, but this is kinda because orion literally doesn't mature at the same rate than he does.

it's not by much but the difference is there and they can feel it even if they don't understand it.

i have a chart in case anyone cares about it akjsdhkja

not my best work but it'll do for now.

so basically OP's mental development is one year for every 2.5 cycles while everyone else's is one per every 1.5. he and dee met when OP was 36 cycles old and Dee was 24 which was the exact moment where their mental development was almost equal, which made them hit off pretty well! but after that it was just a matter of time before dee started leaving Orion behind.

again, it isn't by much but the difference exists and is just one more straw to break the camel's back.

also the poor high guard that stayed behind to keep an eye on Orion was working overtime trying to keep people from wondering why this particular sparkling was growing up so slowly. they faked a bunch of records for him and officially speaking Orion is 47 cycles old, when he's actually 52, but even that only gave them a very limited amount of time before everyone started noticing that Orion was kinda little for his age.

they also did their damn best to keep Orion from entering the mines at the age he was supposed to because there was no fucking way they were letting the equivalent of 12 year old go in there.

they did so much crime and falsification you guys.

as it is OP was still mentally younger than everyone else when they went in, but officially he was almost 5 years older than he should've been. it was the best they could do.

so... yeah!

thank you for asking because i had been postponing doing this for weeks now xD

[cntloup]

toji x fem!reader

angst, bold italics indicate flashbacks, parenthesis are the character's thoughts

this pic of him makes me sooo 😵‍💫🥵

if anyone knows the artist, please let me know 🙏🫶

it's a saturday night and you've been invited to a ball tonight by your close friend, shiu.

you thought what would be better than to unwind with some friends after a long week. what you didn't think would happen was to see him.

you mentally curse shiu for not mentioning anything about him coming here. you thought it was a given that he wouldn't invite both of you.

you spent months crying, trying to get over that guy. and now, he's standing right in front of you, looking dashing as ever, in a suit no less.

you suddenly feel nauseous, as if all the emotions you thought were gone kept rushing back to you.

"you'll have to excuse me..." you mutter lowly to shiu who was just about to introduce you to some clients as you ignore him calling out your name and quickly walk out of the venue, mustering all your power to keep yourself from having a full-blown breakdown in the middle of the room.

as soon as you walk out the door, you break into uncontrollable sobs and start hyperventilating, clutching your chest in a desperate attempt to calm your pounding heart.

"hey... you ok?" suddenly, the world stops... and there's only that voice, the one you know all too well and haven't heard in over a year.

"the hell does that mean?!" he barks at you, his blood boiling as pure rage fills the hollow shell of suppressed emotions, trying to bury the bitter taste of heartbreak.

"I've tried, toji. I really have, to make it work. but I don't feel like you love me. you say you do, but they're just words. I feel like I'm just a maid. and a mom to megs. I don't feel loved for me. I don't feel like myself anymore..."

you let out a gasp and your head turns around as if on autopilot until your eyes meet his.

his already concerned expression softens even further as soon as he witnesses your disheveled look, bloodshot eyes and tear-stained cheeks which he has caused.

he feels the gnawing grasp of guilt in his heart for hurting you like this, all the memories of him in the past year coming back to him, how he was absolutely and completely shattered to pieces over your breakup. and now he can only imagine how it must have been for you.

he was an absolute wreck after you; always beating himself up over pushing you away so much to the point that you doubted his love, ('how did we end up like this?') he kept drinking his sorrow away until he blacked out every night and gambled all his money away even more so than usual without a care which shiu noticed and toji figures now that must have been the reason why he invited both of you.

you were his everything. you proved him wrong when he thought he was done with love after the death of his wife. you dragged him out of the pit of despair and held him through the turmoil, in your loving embrace which became his home.

the silence weighs heavy on your chest, thick tension filling the room as the leaden weight of the words that have just been uttered settles in your heart, and his.

"y-you're leaving?" his quivering voice is laced with a bleak desperation, as if trying to grasp at even a sliver of hope that this is not happening, his worst nightmare.

"goodbye, toji." you swallow the lump in your throat, 'I will always love you...' the words play out in your mind, but they never leave your mouth.

"what are you doing here?" you wipe the tears furiously with your hands as you think he shouldn't see you like this, ('please hold me')

"I could ask the same thing." he takes a step closer to you, carefully as if not to scare you away, ('still love you...')

"fuckin' shiu..." you shake your head, ('can't live without you')

he chuckles dryly, ('take me back please... i promise to be better... for you, i will')

you both stand there, staring into each other’s eyes for what feels like an eternity, feeling yourself nearly getting lost in his eyes, before sensing a surge of emotions rushing into you and overwhelming your heart, causing you to avert your gaze from him and mumble a quiet 'I need to go' and quickly make your way towards your car before he has any time to react, ('please stay! curse me, hit me, anything! just please, stay!') still shocked by seeing you after so long when he thought he was over you. what a fool.

oh, how you wish you could have stayed. how you wish he wouldn't have let you go in the first place. and how you wish you had the heart to let it all out instead of just leaving...

you notice him running after you in the rear-view mirror, but you know it's too late now as you drive away with tears in your eyes, your loud sobs mixing with the roars of the heavy metal music playing in the car.

[kittendreaw]

Actor! Satoru x F! Reader.

Mainlist

Pt.2

Satoru was on top of the world, he was the prince of Hollywood, the new heartthrob of the big screen, sounds fantastic, doesn't it?

It was for everyone except you, his poor manager, the only reason you haven't quit is because of how ridiculously good the pay is.

"Just Please make my job easier Satoru." You couldn't help but be frustrated, Dealing with Satoru was sometimes like dealing with a spoiled brat and sometimes it was just worse.

"Well, I'll pay you for that."

"You pay me to be your manager, not your babysitter so please stay here and cooperate."

And of course he didn't because it was complicated, no matter how long he had been in the industry he was still a pain in the ass for assistants, makeup artists, directors, photographers, etc. Basically anyone who had the misfortune to work with him.

It was always the same, you should be used to it by now but it was impossible.

"What do you mean you're not going to come with me?"

"It's not that hard to understand."

He rolled his eyes while his arms crossed over his chest. No matter your size or how high your heels are, Satoru was simply giant in front of you. "Don't be a Smartass, Yn, you're my manager, you have to come with me."

"Nanami will do the job of going with you that night."

"but I don't want Nanami! "

"I'll be busy with some paperwork that night."

" Well, have Nanami do the paperwork and you come with me."

" It's not that easy."

Yes, it was that easy but you hated big events and going to the Oscars was torture for you, you had managed to get away on most occasions but Satoru was getting more and more insistent.

"Why?"

You let out a sigh, you could make up as many excuses as you could he just always kept asking.

"Satoru, look, I don't want to go."

"Why?"

"I don't know I just-" You could deal with people, that was no longer the problem but you still don't get used to all the cameras ready to capture every second.

"Why do you mean? It's not that hard, you just have to get pretty and come with me, you can do that."

"But I don't want."

"But you don't want." He repeated, clearly he was not happy and clearly not the day was not going to end without him getting what he wanted. There was a pause in which no one said anything. "I'm your boss, you can't tell me no."

"You should review workers' rights, Satoru."

"Dammit." He muttered. "Just say yes, please. I swear it won't be so terrible, besides I already bought you a dress, it would be rude of you to refuse it."

A pair of puppy eyes and a few more pleas and just as he wanted it, there you were with the pretty burgundy dress, the high black heels and gloves of the same color.

"Look at you, you are beautiful."

Satoru approached you, observing every detail of your appearance. It was true that the dress was pretty and that the makeup artist had done an excellent job, but you couldn't help but make your stomach churn every time you remembered the place you were going.

"But I know how to do it even better."

Satoru called one of the attendants who held out a box from which he pulled out a diamond necklace. It was beautiful and also damn expensive, it was the kind of thing you'd never pay for but always admire from afar. Satoru put it around your neck giving the final touch to your look that night.

"I-" It was too much for you, you couldn't accept it.

"Not a single word, tonight you have to stand out, after all you are my date." You felt your soul leave your body for a few seconds, you had planned to stay as hidden as you could but Satoru wanted you next to him posing for the cameras, this was definitely too much, much more than you were ready to do, you couldn't, Your mind was only thinking about all the negative possibilities this could bring and all the embarrassing things you could do. You wanted to throw up, was it too late to get back to the paperwork plan?

"What?"

[lexirosewrites]

Something vaguely spooky this week for slick sunday

[A weird Nosferatu (2024) AU tht I am writing on & off with very vague ideas of how a plot would work: O!Steve is sensitive to the supernatural & it's exacerbated by his first run in w the Upside Down, vecna dies in s4 AU, eddie lives AU & is exonerated........ so have an excerpt or 4 from different points in the story bc it's mostly just disjointed scenes I wanted to write down for now]

[This first scene is following Steve getting involved in the Upside Down at the end of s1]

At 17 years old, Steve Harrington bolted awake as he fell from the edge of his nest to the floor of his bedroom. Desperate to get away from the creatures of his nightmare. He felt feverish and near delirious with the images that played behind his eyes. Heads full of mouths that bloomed like a horrific flower to reveal petals of sharp teeth, and stinking black saliva. Wallpaper bulging till it was torn away by long digits that were more claw than any other idea of anatomy the omega knew. Memories of what was yet to happen swam through his mind; raw meat, dog like horrors, cold cement tunnels, a towering monster of melted meat, and a grandfather clock tolling only three times till it is shattered.

Phantom sensations of horrible pain seared through his entire body. Steve hadn't slept through the night since his heroism in the Byers house. He was lucky now to get four hours of sleep, if at all. Insomnia had not troubled him since he was 13 years old, and now he felt too young once again. Because he'd begun to hear them once more; the different voices that whispered every night, different visions of different futures, and he'd awoken three times in the past two weeks to find himself standing out of his bed on his way to either the front door or worst of all the back door.

The omega's heart pounded like it might break his rib cage, and his blood thundered feverishly throughout his body. Desperately, he climbed back into his nest and clasped his hands together. He did not close his eyes. He could hear the antique clock in the hallway ticking with the passage of time. The young omega was alone in the house as his parents were away for work.

Steve then did something he never thought he could do, he reached out into the night in search of something to ease his pounding heart.

"If those things are real then anything can be real and maybe someone is listening. Please if there's a God, an ancestor I never knew, someone, a guardian angel, anyone, anything that can hear me, please. I just wish to feel safe to sleep again, to have the piercing pain in my skull fade even just a little."

A soft chime from the clock in the hall.

"Please, answer me."

A second chime.

"Hear my voice."

The final chime of the clock and the digital numbers beside his bed, that he could not see as his unblinking eyes drifted to the moonlight pouring in throigh his window, denoted the time was 3am. He whispered a phrase that felt like it echoed further than the walls of his room.

"Heed my call."

His window opened.

[A scene in the summer of 1986, the young adults have gathered at the Harrington’s house for a night of movies & drinking & smoking]

Steve slips off into a hazy sleep laid out on the comfortable couch of the houses communal den that his father had scented briefly before his parents left for their trip, the scent has faded. His eyelids grow heavy as he wonders about when his parents will call (it's been longer than usual) and the noise of all these people he trusts lulls him to sinking into a dream.

He dreams of himself in a different place. In a forest of trees he instinctively knows are not native to North America. Steve stands on a gravel road that he can see leads to a cross roads. Further away upon the side of a mountain, a castle is carved. His heart feels it might stop as he scents lilac flowers. As he hears a breath that is not his own.

Steve wakes up. He is standing in his backyard facing the forest. Robin is holding his hand, tightly, and he can scent her distress.

[Later in the story when stuff w the nosferatu is ramping up & everyone in the pack gets involved]

Everyone is talking. Everyone is planning how to help Steve's sleep walking. When El speaks up.

"There is something more. Something you think you can't tell us, but that I cannot see." Her eyes are older than someone her age, and Steve feels his heart seize as the room goes silent.

"It isn't the Upside Down." Steve starts. "It's-- he's-- I was a lonely kid. I had people who liked to say they were my friend but no one really meant it. Not till all of you. I have had this happen before-- sleep walking-- it lasted for a year, when I was thirteen. I don't remember how it stopped, but after getting involved in all of this," he gestured to show he meant the entire alternate dimension situation that brought them together "it started up again."

"What else?" Hopper asked. Now in a mode of information gathering, of investigating.

"One night-- I was so scared from not sleeping and my parents were gone and I kept seeing things that hadn't happened yet, that I reached out. I called out asking for anyone, someone. Anything to answer, to help me sleep and make the pain throbbing in my head not feel so awful." Steve took in a deep breathe as he forced out the next words. "Something answered."

[Another snippet related to the above but idk how to connect it yet]

"I will jump into your dream." El speaks so assuredly, her tone so confident, and everyone is agreeing. Except Steve.

"No. No, you can't."

"Why not? I am strong again, stronger."

"Yeah Steve, El can kick this guys ass out of your head." Mike is actually using a reassuring tone.

"It isn't Vecna!" Dustin jumps in. "She beat him--"

"Exactly! He isn't Vecna! He's-- he's worse!" Steve is frantic, they need to understand. El cannot risk jumping into his dreams.

"How can this guy be any worse Steve?" Robin is holding his hand and Eddie has placed his on the omega's shoulder.

"Because he isn't a mortal who was born with powers by chance or inheritance or by the fucked up design of a government!" Steve stands, shaking off their hands because he feels sick with anxiety, and begins to pace the length of the living room. "Because he's older than all of this! He isn't someone who will just let me go because a mortal girl pops into a dream and says so! He doesn't exist in some alternate dimension beneath our feet, he exists here! In this world! He doesn't lie to me, he won't tolerate an intrusion, he will find you El! He will know you are there, he will know you're trying to be there, and he will hurt you!"

The room is silent and every eye is on him.

"He will hurt you all and he will make me watch."

I haven’t seen Nosferatu, so I’m not able to fully understand this one, but it seems interesting!

[yandere-fics]

♡ Rayna's Rules For Her Little Sister ♡

(She phrases her rules grossly. Big sister is not capitalized on the rules on purpose while Little Sister is because that's how Rayna would write it. Little Sister is more important afterall.)

♡ Little Sis must kiss her big sister in the morning before leaving bed. ♡

♡ Little Sis must sleep in her panties and big sister's shirt so they can be pleasured by big sister the moment they wake up. ♡

You found out the hard way that this was a rule she took extremely seriously when you left bed one morning as she was still dead asleep only to be jumped by her ten minutes later shoving her tongue down your fucking throat. After that you quickly realized it was just better to give her the kiss in the morning and hope she didn't take it too much farther. Didn't guarantee you ere safe from having her tongue down your throat, like right now when she got a little bit over excited you kissed her first and was humping your leg as she kissed you, her semi hard cock leaking all over your leg because she insisted the both of you sleep almost nude.

"Call me big sis please?" She whined as she moved your panties to the side and slid her limp dick back and forth trying her best to work herself up for intercourse. Most mornings she wasn't able to get hard enough though and would settle for her fingers in you and then would go off to her office for work. Today she seemed like she wasn't giving to leave until you came on her dick though.

"Ugh fine… please fuck me big sis?" It was quicker if you just called her that. She let out a groan cumming prematurely and shooting all over your panties and shirt. She frowned when she realized she didn't actually get to be inside you, beginning to move her hips once again to try to get herself worked up, without cumming this time. You supposed today was not going to be a work day for her.

♡ Little Sister is only allowed to masturbate with big sis watching and big sis will step in if it looks like little sis needs help. ♡

♡ Big sister reserves the right to deny Little Sister anything they ask for if it turns out they didn't consider going to big sis for help first. ♡

You were not planning on following either of those, after all what Rayna didn't know couldn't hurt her so as long as you hid things from her well enough you assumed you wouldn't have to listen. You assumed wrong because at every turn Rayna knew you had attempted to do something for yourself and failed and every time she would tell you she wasn't going to help you for a few hours since you hadn't asked her, instead forcing you to sit on her lap until she felt you'd reflected enough and then would get up to help you with whatever it was you wanted. This time she had caught you trying to masturbate and had decided she needed to edge you for a bit which evidently was quite painful for her when you could feel her hand twitch against your thigh every few seconds before reminding herself she wasn't supposed to be helping you. You usually didn't like asking Rayna for things because it made her too over excited butttt… you had been sitting on her lap horny for about thirty minutes now and you really just needed to get off soooo…

"Big sis, please touch me?" That was all it took to get her to set you on her office chair and start eating you out ravenously.

♡ Little Sister must not make friends with anyone, their only company should be big sis. ♡

♡ Sometimes big sister has to do things that Little Sister is better off not knowing about, please don't ask. ♡

You knew you weren't supposed to be asking Rayna about what happened to the house staff since they were replaced so often but this was the fifth personal maid you had that you got along with somewhat who had been replaced. Plus you were having a nice week with her and had followed all the other rules so she probably wouldn't mind if you asked just this once, right? Every time you tried though she would attempt to shift your attention away from the topic, darting her eyes around and growing increasingly agitated. You really wanted to know though so you were pushing your luck just a bit.

"My songbird, if you keep asking about the staff members I will make sure there's no staff left for you to care about." That shut you up fast.

♡ Big sister loves Little Sister more than life itself, remember that. ♡