#but it's actually not that hard to keep up with as long as you don't let yourself fall too far behind

[the-ladyrae]

I recently met a girl on Bumble, and I'm mad as hell about it because she lives less than half a mile away from me.

(Which I'm aware is like the opposite of a problem. RIP literally every other lesbian dealing with long distance. It is a privilege for me to be able to take a leisurely stroll to my gf's place [and there's a grocery store at the half way point of the walk so I can stop in and buy her flowers and snacks] and be there in no more than 15 minutes)

Anyway, I'm mad about it because I also loudly decry the effects dating apps have on human courting rituals. The comodification of intimacy to the degree of when people think of meeting someone now a days we don't think of going out to a bar, or dancing, or complimenting an interesting stranger in public. In most cases, we've actually begun to shun these things! The evolution of this in my mind began with the statement of "Women don't want to be approached in public." And for the most part, that holds true. We don't want to be bothered at work, where we have to be nice to you or risk getting fired. Or when we're out doing errands, grocery shopping, laundrymatt, whatever she's just trying to get some stuff done, leave her alone. Or at the gym, where the mindset is not really aligned with that activity. Or at the bar, we came together we leave together and keep an eye out someone might try to put something in your drink.

OK, wait, but back-up, I thought it was acceptable to approach women in social situations?

Well, it was, but doesn't that sound scary? You don't know that person that just came up to you and asked for your number. What if they're a serial killer, unlikely but wouldn't you rather have the opportunity to look into that first? Check their references so to speak.

I mean sure that sounds like a good thing, but how is this safer? I'm essentially doing what my parents told me not to my entire childhood, and meeting up with strangers from the internet.

Sure sure, sure, but this is different! We're providing a safe space where everyone is up front about who they are and their intentions! You can find exactly what you're looking for with all our magical filters (some might cost you a bit, but don't think about that yet). And then here's the kicker you can talk to them before you meet up in our messaging function, take an appropriate amount of time to learn everything you can and decide if this person is trustworthy enough to meet in person. That sounds nice doesn't it?

I guess I do like the idea of having a designated space where I know it's acceptable to approach an individual! And I mean how hard can it be to navigate one app?

Oh sorry I forgot to mention this part. It's not just one app there are like half a dozen major players that everyone kinda cycles through so you'll have to have all of them to play the field and increase the odds of you finding your one. And also because of the nature of us now giving you a haystack of options when you're looking for a needle you'll have to weed out like a dozen people at a time reality TV harem dating show style, while they do the same to you.

That doesn't exactly sound like a better system... But it clearly is, because of this system I met someone, didn't I? Well yes, but she lives half a mile away in the same neighborhood. We shop at the same grocery store, go to the same bars, have similar interests in general, and are both reasonably visibly distinct from a crowd (she's got bright pink hair, I'm a 6'1" femme who can't dress casual to save her life)

And we've both lived in this area for months without even noticing each other even though we're exactly each other's type. I don't know if any of that really made sense, but I think the point is that the dating apps are only fixing barriers to connection that they created. They are only solving problems they created, and we're paying them for it.

tumblr please stop showing me dating apps ads. i'll meet girls the old way; never

[yanderedrabbles]

Private Military Contractor - Yandere Noncon

Yandere Male x Fem Reader Heavily inspired by this incredible fic.

He took you. Plucked you straight off the street on the way back from class. He must have known your routine down to a tee, because he did it all with a casual, brutal efficiency. Parking his rented van on the quietest road on your route, stacking a ladder and some paint cans outside so you'd think he was just a regular workman. The door open and waiting just for you, though you didn't know it yet.

You remember greeting him ‐ a quick good morning to be polite - without stopping or even really looking at him. You walked a little bit past the van without realising he was following you. Oblivious right up until the moment he grabbed you, one paw against your mouth to swallow your scream.

He was quick. So ruthlessly quick. Yanking you inside the van and closing the door before you even fully registered what was happening.

He wants you around for one thing and one thing only. He made that abundantly clear on the first day, when you were scarcely through the front door and he was already tearing off your skirt. He would have fucked you in the van the second he took you if he thought he could get away with it.

He isn't gentle. He bends you over the couch with your wrists held together in the small of your back. If you squirm too much, he twists your arm so hard you scream that he's going to break it.

He fucks you dry. Shoving himself inside of you despite how tight you are, how unready and unwilling. He groans at the first thrust, so obscenely satisfied. Like he's finally tasting a prize long differed.

He doesn't last long during the first round. Spilling himself into you after less than three minutes.

He's big - too fucking big. The cum that drips out of your cunt is tinged pink with blood. If he notices it, he doesn't care. He just stands there for a minute, stroking himself hard again and then it's time for round two. Your tears haven't even had time to dry.

He fucks like a soldier in a foreign war zone. Taking, claiming, stealing. It doesn't matter that you're not his to have; he has his guns and his training and to him that's all the reason he needs.

He fucks like he hasn't had a woman in years. With all the pent up energy of long, lonely nights spent in the ugliest parts of the world. He fucks you like a man who's finally gotten his hands on the fantasy he's nursed through all the worst moments of his life.

He fucks like he's terrified of losing you now that he finally, finally has you.

You can't stand after he's done with you. Your cunt burning so bad you think you're on fire from the inside out. He doesn't care that you hang limp from his grip. He just picks you up and tosses you over one broad shoulder and takes you to his bedroom.

You come out of your shock only when you feel the handcuffs closing around your wrist. He's literally chained you to his bed.

You start screaming again then. Frightened and begging and finally realising that this is really happening. It's not a bad dream or a story on the news, it's actually fucking happening to you.

He ignores you, pulling off his heavy combat boots and locking his pistol in the draw across the room. Maybe he's waiting for you to tire out, for your throat to start hurting and for you to quiet down. You don't.

He sighs like you're nothing more than an inconvenience and then slaps you so hard your ears ring and white dots spark across your vision.

His use of violence is so causal, so easy. It's shock that keeps you quiet more than the pain.

Before evening on the first day, he fucks you four more times. He doesn't listen when you beg him to be gentle, beg him to go slow. He ignores you when you plead with him to fuck your mouth instead, as much as he wants, just so long as he gives your pussy a break.

Men like him exist on the knife edge between life and death. Is it any surprise that it leaves its mark? That he wants to take whatever pleasure he can because god alone knows how much time he has left?

He doesn't kiss you until the very end, when he's deep between your thighs and you've dug your nails so deep into his back that you're going to leave scars. He kisses you when you're too hurt and sore and scared to turn away. He kisses you and it feels like he's finally staking his claim. Like part of him didn't believe you were real until he'd fucked you again and again and there was no one to stop him.

The next morning, he shoves a bitter tasting pill under your tongue and keeps his hand over your mouth until he's sure it's dissolved.

"No kids," he says simply and it makes you want to laugh at the absurdity of it.

Yeah, you agree silently, no fucking kids. Especially not if you're the father. Especially not in a world where men like you exist.

He has an appetite that's borderline impossible to satisfy. Once he starts kissing you, he doesn't stop. Teeth nipping at your lips until you give in and even then it's not enough. He wraps one massive hand around your throat and squeezes.

"Kiss me back," he breathes, his lips just an inch from yours.

You kiss him and he takes it like you're everything he's ever dreamed about, the prize he's somehow earned.

After that, he spends a lot more time exploring your body. It's like he needed to get some of that desperation out of his system before he could think straight.

He's less feverish when he touches you, but no less impatient. He pries your thighs apart with one brutal yank and drops his face to your pussy. You try and jerk away from him, try and close your legs despite the massive forearms keeping them spread. You don't want him there. It's too intimate, it's too vulnerable. Hasn't he taken enough?

He licks you like he has no shame. Not even a little shy about having his tongue deep in your cunt. He tries different tricks - slow and sensual, rough, tight little flicks. He doesn't seem to care how you respond to any of it. It's more so an experiment to see which way he enjoys eating you out.

You cum on his tongue, your eyes screwed shut in guilt. You hope he won't notice, hope he'll just get bored and leave you alone.

He growls in a pleased sort of way, looking up at you with his mouth and chin slick. Oh, he definitely noticed.

You can't meet his eyes after that.

He's not a doomsday prepper. Or at least not exactly. But everything he has is off the grid. A house with its own solar panels and borehole, no technology except for his old fashioned satellite phone.

He doesn't talk much. Not even when he's fucking you. You might get the occasional good girl or a snarl for you to take it, take it just like that.

But he doesn't talk. Doesn't comfort you, doesn't insult you, doesn't even explain himself. (Though you suppose the way he holds you at night - tight, like you're going to be ripped away from him if he doesn't sink his claws in - is explanation enough).

He has money. Blood money you suppose. He doesn't go to work or leave the house much but still manages to buy you all sorts of expensive things. Silk negligees, satin panties, scented candles that melt into body oil. You aren't sure why he bothers. He's usually too impatient to appreciate any of it - most of the panties end up a torn, wet mess by the time he's done with you.

You look through his closet one day. There's a box full of military patches - Blackwater, Raytheon, MPR, a dozen more you don't recognise. And you know for a fact they aren't just some stupid collectibles, aren't there just so he can play out some militaristic power fantasy. He really worked for these companies. The patches feel real - their quality designed for hard weather and harder work. You understand him a little better after seeing them.

You don't know him. Don't recognise him in the slightest. He's a stranger to you - to the point you don't even know his name. At first you assume he took you because you were the only one stupid enough to get caught. But a few days with him and you realise that's not true at all. He knows you.

He feeds you your favourite cereal every morning, even though you can tell by his frown that he doesn't approve of your dietary choices. He has a closet packed full of your clothes. You thought he somehow raided your house but it's all new. He went out and bought exact copies of all your regular outfits, down to the tiny Victoria's Secret thongs that you like.

How? How could he gather so much information about your life while you didn't even realise you were being watched?

He takes you down to his basement one day, when you've been particularly insistent about asking him who he is. There are rows and rows of guns. Semi and fully automatic rifles, sniper rifles, shotguns. Shit you aren't even sure is fully legal.

You aren't sure why he's showing you this. Is he trying to scare you? Is he trying to goad you into escaping just so he'll have an excuse to punish you?

You look into his eyes - monster, monster in the shape of a man - and finally realise what he's trying to say.

No one is coming to save you. No one even knows where you are. But if by some slim chance they try and take you away, they'd better hope to be fucking bulletproof.

You stop asking him about himself after that.

He decides he wants anal one day in the shower. He's pressed up against your back and running his cock up and down between your ass. The tip keeps getting caught on your puckered entrance and maybe that's what puts the idea into his head.

You're too slow to realise what he's planning and he has one thick hand gripping the back of your neck before you can even think of running.

It's slow, painful going. He wants to shove himself in like he always does but the nature of it stops him. The tip is the worst part. You bite your lip so hard you can taste blood, your hands and tits both pressed up against the glass.

He presses his lips against your temple, watching your face screw up as he gets deeper.

"It's okay to cry."

There's a sick pleasure to his voice. He flicks your clit and your entire body clenches around him. He hums at that, amused and pleased.

And the worst part? He somehow makes you come. When he's finally loosened you up enough to start thrusting, he hits something deep inside you. He notices it - he notices everything about you. He laughs a little and slips his fingers into your pussy. That's all it takes to send you crashing over the edge, your whole body pulsing and aching all at once.

"That's what I like about you," he snarks into your ear when he's done, "I can make you come no matter how much you don't want it."

He turns you around and looks down at you. The expression on his face makes you want to vomit. He looks at you with a kind of loving softness. A tenderness that ignores all the awful, awful things he's done to you.

If you didn't realise it already, you knew it for a fact right then and there.

He's never going to let you go.

He takes your chin between his fingers and pulls you onto your tip toes to kiss him.

"Why?" you ask for the millionth time since he took you. And for once, he answers.

"Because I could. Because I can."

[suiana]

thinking of a guilt ridden reader and a silly manipulative yandere who looks exactly like someone from reader's past.

maybe you did something bad to a friend, perhaps ended a relationship on bad terms with someone who never deserved to be treated badly. whatever it is, just the mere thought of that person causes you to physically curl up and pray for forgiveness.

so you spend the rest of your days like a dead man walking, the guilt of your actions clawing at the depths of your heart. it makes it hard to do anything, let alone think. because when you are left alone with your thoughts, all you can imagine is their expression when everything went wrong. oh how you'd give up anything just to change the past and your actions.

as if your guilt wasn't enough, he just had to skip into your life looking exactly like that person. like them.

at first, you thought of this as a curse. this... this stupid guy? looking exactly like them? then as you sort of warmed up to him, you still think it's a curse. because what gave him the audacity to come into your life, looking like them, and telling you how much he wants you? especially claiming that it was love at first sight and that you two were fated to be?

"i love you."

"can i be yours?"

"we'd be so good together."

you keep pushing him away. you know how this will end up, with you messing up just like last time. wouldn't it be better to just keep him at a distance? unfortunately for you he doesn't seem to think so. and it's like a curse. a demon from your past coming back to haunt you in the form of your greatest mistake.

if anything, your costant rejections only seem to keep him wanting... more?

"please, just one chance. that is all I'm asking for."

"no? you don't want to entertain me even the slightest bit?"

"how cruel, i never realised you were this heartless."

you eventually end up giving in. he just has that sort of effect you suppose. or maybe it's the guilt that's constantly eating you alive that's causing you to make this decision. after all, he looks so much like them and... you don't know what you'd do if he looked at you like that. not ever, not again. maybe this would be your way of making up for your wrong doings.

he couldn't be happier obviously. finally! the person he's been pining over finally accepted his confession! even if it took a long time, it all worked out. you're happy, his happy, everyone's happy!

until he found out you're not actually happy and you're just doing this because you feel guilty.

"what do you mean? am i just a replacement to you? a way to correct your mistakes?"

"hah! you're so- ugh, I don't even want to think about you anymore."

"save it, those are just excuses."

he's always been a manipulative person. he knows. and he knows that you know it too. yet he continues to manipulate you through it all. i mean, it's your fault for even treating him like a second option in the first place! what? he's the one that's been pestering you? no no, you could've just rejected him. it's not his fault, it's yours. you're not stopping him anyway so like, you're basically admitting you're in the wrong.

"yeah you should be sorry. how mean do you have to be to think of me just as someone you've hurt? I'm my own person too."

he says that but continues to use the fact that his familiarity elicits something in you. and he'll continue abusing it, continue taking advantage of your weakened state. why? because he can and because he wants to.

plus, it's amusing in it's own right to see you bending head over heels just to appease him. huh, guess the guilt runs deep, doesn't it?

oh it's whatever. he'll slowly condition you to start showing him the affection he so desperately craves anyway. he just needs to hold on a little longer. break you down a tiny bit more and then you'll be all his. he can feel it.

you two will be truly happy together. no other people, no guilt in your heart. just you and him, alone and content with one another.

that would simply be salvation, wouldn't it?

[taffywabbit]

taffy, do you have any tips on how to get motivation to draw when adhd makes focusing or even just starting on it hard?

youre one of my favorite artists and hearing you have adhd too made me feel a bit better abt my struggles with it

hmmm. I mean even after I started finally getting medicated for it I still struggled with this so I don't know if I have any GREAT tips lol, but here's some stuff that seems to help me:

- keep a list somewhere of ideas you wanna draw or techniques/styles you wanna practice or whatever, so you can add stuff to the list whenever you randomly think of it

- find ways to get yourself into Art Focus Mode, like a flow state or hyperfocus or whatever. for me that usually means making sure my water is full, eating a snack, wrapping my lower body in a blanket (my apartment is always a little chilly), and either joining a discord call with some friends (often screensharing so I feel sorta accountable if I get distracted and stop drawing) or just closing social media tabs and pulling up music/video essays/stream VODs/etc. the point of any of this is largely to make it harder to randomly get up and do other stuff if I don't actually need to. I'm at my desk and I'm drawing, it's happening, I'm locking in

- if you have something you NEED to draw (like me with commission work) and you can't find the motivation to just jump into that right away, this is where your list comes in. look at it and find something that currently interests you to draw (either fully or at least just starting it) and try drawing that first for a bit. then once you're kinda already in the art mindset, you can pivot over to the Art Task and it's usually a bit easier than jumping in raw. (setting a timer may also be helpful if you find your warmup drawings end up going on too long)

- this one might be a bit more of a me thing and specific to my workflow, but I also like keeping a little stopwatch app in the corner of my screen while I'm working so I know how long I've been drawing for. it's good for keeping track of how long I spend on commissions relative to how much I'm getting paid so I stay roughly within my "time budget", but it's more immediately helpful for just making sure I take breaks when I notice I've been working for a couple hours already. taking breaks often feels counterintuitive to the whole process of trying to induce hyperfocus, but you GOTTA take them or your bones will explode, so make them structured and make them count. get a snack, walk around, stretch, whatever you gotta do, and then restart the process and get back to drawing (and remember to unpause your timer lol)

that's all I can think of right now! hopefully some of this is helpful!

[wlwsoccerfics]

Clingy Girlfriend (Grace Clinton X Russo Reader)

Summary: If is time England Camp and you finally See your girlfriend again. You two are doing Long Distance because she plays for Manchester United and you okay for FC Barcelona.

Warnings: some talks about siblings having to compete with one another, migraine, throwing up.

"Baby!" You hear Grace voice and then you nearly got knocked over because she was jumping on your back, but you managed to keep her up with your arms and steady yourself so you wouldn't fall.

"hey Love!" You said and smiled gently. "I guess asking If you missed me isn't necessary anymore after this!" You replied and giggled softly. Ella walked over with your sister.

"hey little Sis!" Alessia said and smiled at you.

"thank god you are here! Every day at practice she was talking about you y/n! It was getting annoying!" Tooney told you, playfully rolling her eyes.

"hey Less! Hey Ella! What can i say? I am amazing!" You let them know. Winking softly, obviously joking. "But on a serious Note, GracieBean? Where is my kiss?" You asked. Grace quickly got down from your back and turned you around. Kissing you softly. You kiss back and smile into the kiss.

"get a room!" Your sister yelled out, chuckling softly.

"These two in one room and the entire floor won't be able to sleep at night! They haven't seen eachother in a while! So they aren't sharing!" Leah stated, walking over. Smirking softly.

"hello Captain!" You answered teasingly. Hugging Leah, before hugging your best friend Hannah. "Hi Hampton!" You playfully said. "Hi little R." She answered, hugging you back. Smirking softly.

You shared a room with Beth while Grace shared one with Lucy. It did feel like the two were chosen to make sure the two of you didn't sneak into eachothers rooms. Both of you clearly weren't happy about this.

It didn't take long before there was a knock on the door of your room, which Beth opened and Grace walked straight past her, into your open arms.

"i needed some cuddles!" She informed you.

"you two saw eachother like 40 minutes ago!" Beth stated. "I know long distance sucks. But please remember to Focus on Camp too!" She added.

You and Grace look at her, frowning softly.

"playing for two different countries and making a relationship work is way harder then playing for two different Teams in the same country. Both hard but it's even more challenging for us." Grace explained. She sure didn't sound like a 21 year old. But more like someone in their 30s with way more life experience then she actually had. Same goes for you though. You are 22 years old.

"yeah Beth i agree. For you and Viv it's challenging, for us it's even worse." You replied and held Grace close.

"i know, i know." Beth answered with a soft sigh escaping her lips.

"we are very professional and when we are on the pitch or at practice we will be very focused!" You tell her gently. Offering her a small smile.

"okay good. i will be downstairs and play some games with some of the Girls. So you two can have some alone time, just remember we have practice in three hours." She stated and smiled at you before leaving the room. Leaving the two of you alone.

You cuddle with Grace, fingers intertwined. Kissing every now and then. Just enjoying eachothers company.

"i feel so lucky that i get to love you!" Grace told you. You smile at her.

"you are sweet Babe. But i am the lucky one! I can't believe how much love i always feel from you. You don't make me feel like i am second best or like i have to compete for favorite Russo." You explain to her. "I know it's not a competition and i am proud to be Lessis sister but it just sucks that people always seem to compare the two of us!" You admitted. She kissed your head. Holding you as close as possible.

"you two may be sisters but you both have your own personality! And you are different people! There shouldn't be people comparing you with one another!" Grace stated. "And if that helps, i like your sister but for obvious reasons you are my favorite Russo!" She added and smiled a little. You smiled back.

"i would hope so." You replied with a genuine giggle escaping your lips.

You two get ready for practice in your seperate rooms before meeting up with everyone else in the Hotel Lobby.

"the lovebirds actually managed to make it on time!" Tooney said teasingly.

"i am always on time!" You stated and chuckled softly.

"not always!" Alessia replied, teasingly.

"okay you two leave the little lovebirds alone!" Mary answered with a soft smile. You walked to the trainings pitch, holding Grace' hand while talking to Hannah.

You did some drills and partnerd up with Grace, no one was surprised about that. The two of you were working well together. It was like, you didn't even have to talk to one another ,but still managed to communicate with your eyes.

After that you did some practice games. 3vs3 and you played with Ella & Leah against Beth, Lucy & Jess. This was alot of fun and a good way to start of England Camp.

When practice was done you all went to shower and decided to meet up for Team Dinner later that day.

You got out of the shower and dried yourself off. Putting on some England shorts & an England Hoodie, before walking out of the bathroom and over to your bed. Beth went to take a shower next. You felt a migraine coming up so you took some meds, hoping you caught it just in time. But unfortunately around 10 minutes later you realized that it in fact was too late so the migraine was in full swing now.

You laid on your bed. Legs pulled up to your stomach. Eyes closed. Focusing on your breathing, wanting to breathe through the pain.

Beth walked out of the bathroom, dressed up in an outfit that was similiar to yours. She saw you lying there and knew right away what was going on. Having seen that many times when Viv had a migraine. Cause unfortunately the dutch Woman struggled with it as well.

"sweets, anything i can do?" Beth whispered out. You sniffle softly.

"can you get Grace for me, please?" You asked her.

"yes of course." She answered but closed the blinds before she left, walking to Grace' room. Lucy was the one who opened the door.

"what's up, Meado?" Lucy asked.

"is grace here? Y/n is asking for her. She is having a full on Migraine right now." The blonde answered.

"damn, poor, Russo!"Lucy stated, not having much time to say anything else because Grace was already walking past them. In a hurry to get to you. Beth quickly followed her. When the door to the room was opened you weren't in your bed anymore though. No both Grace & Beth could hear you throwing up.

"i will be hanging out with Leah, good luck!" Beth turned around and walked out quickly. She wasn't good with hearing people throwing up but always managed to pull through when it came to Viv.

Grace walked into the bathroom , kneeling down next to you. Rubbing your back and holding your hair. "I have got you babe." She whispered out.

After a few minutes you were finally done. Leaning against Grace.

"i am so angry with myself." You sobbed out. Grace was really confused, frowning softly.

"Love this isn't your fault!" She said softly. Kissing your head gently.

"feels like my body is betraying me! We see eachother only a few times a year and i now manage to ruin one of the times with a migraine. I am sorry Baby!" You sighed sadly and tried to stop yourself from having a full on emotional breakdown.

"hey stop. This isn't your fault! You didn't ask for that migraine!" She answered. Cuddling you and managing to calm you down. Helping you brush your teeth before carrying you back to bed. Holding you close. Laying down with you. You took a hold of her like a koala baby did to it's momma, but you didn't care how clingy you were right now. All you wanted was to be close to your girlfriend.

You ended up sleeping for the rest of the day, Grace staying with you the entire time. She even spend the night and Beth stayed with Lucy.

You felt much better the next day but everyone still was keeping an eye on you. Especially Grace but also your sister. It was good to know that you both were clingy. And neither one of you cared.

[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 ->

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[mamawasatesttube]

6 or 17 for TimKon? :)

6. "Don't move, you're still hurt." 17. "Can you hear me?"

Consciousness slams into Tim like a breaking wave. It knocks the breath from his lungs and leaves him spluttering, gasping for breath—an instant mistake, because painpainpain explodes in his chest so hard he nearly passes out again.

"Whoa, Rob, chill out! Don't you dare move. You're still hurt!"

Kon, Tim thinks woozily, trying his hardest to blink the stars from his vision. He can't breathe from the agony. But he... he needs to protect Kon. A vague sense of impending doom floats through his mind, something green, something...

A tower. Why is he thinking of a tower? And blood. So much blood.

He has to protect Kon—

He can't move. He tries to sit up again and he can't move. A gentle but immovable pressure surrounds his whole body, keeping him in place, and he can't move. Panic floods him. He needs to protect Kon and he can't move and—

"Dammit, Rob, I said keep still! Can you hear me?"

...Oh. For the first time, Tim realizes that there's a reason that "blinking the stars out of his vision" didn't work. He never actually opened his eyes.

With effort, he forces his eyelids up, squinting against the dust in the air. He coughs. Pain lances through his chest.

Kon swears under his breath. He's—he's here? He's not hurt? He's... crouching in the rubble, bodily shielding Tim, and... and he's okay. He isn't bleeding, his body is whole and not twisted and broken and bloodied, and... and...

Emotion wells up in Tim's chest, underneath all the pain. He clears his throat and rasps, "Kon?"

"Hey, hot stuff." Kon flashes him a quick smile. "Hold still. You've got four broken ribs. Maybe a concussion too. Hard to say this soon, but..."

Oh. That would explain why breathing hurts. Tim squints up at Kon, then around him, trying to figure out where everyone else went. Weren't they fighting some... guy? Guys? Some Intergang guys... Right, and they were armed with Apokoliptian, um... thingies. And...

Now Tim remembers the reason for "green". Someone had a Kryptonite-tipped rifle round. Musta paid a fortune to Luthor to get that, or else they were doing the bastard a favor. Ugh...

"Your spine isn't damaged, thankfully," Kon continues. He tilts his head and narrows his eyes off into the distance, listening to something Tim can't hear, watching something Tim can't watch, and then looks back down to Tim. "Okay. Coast is clear. I'm gonna get you to the hospital."

Hospital? Eh. Everyone knows broken ribs just need a few weeks of rest. Tim grunts. "Hn. 'M fine."

Kon gives him the flattest look known to mankind. "You need a CT scan to check if you have a concussion. Also, need I remind you, four broken ribs?"

He exhales shortly, raking a hand through his hair; he only does that when he's stressed. He rests his hand on Tim's hip, and suddenly they're both floating into the air. It's odd, because Tim is still laid out flat and can't actually move, but he's used to Kon by now.

Still, though. "S'only flesh wounds." He just needs to sleep it all off. It's fine. They can watch Monty Python while he rests.

Kon, though, doesn't seem to appreciate the humor. The sky is a brilliant blue around him; the wind whips his ponytail around his face. He looks unimpressed. "Tim, your suit might be made of kevlar 'n' stuff, but it's not made to stop rifle rounds! Seriously, what were you thinking?"

Tim frowns. Isn't it obvious what he was thinking? "Had to protect you."

Kon stares at him for a long moment, flying effortlessly towards Metropolis General Hospital without even having to look. Several emotions flicker through his eyes too fast for Tim's dazed mind to follow, until finally he sighs, rakes his free hand through his hair again, and mutters, "What am I gonna do with you?"

That's another question with an obvious answer. Tim grunts again. "Mmph. Cherish and love me forever. Duh."

This time, he wins—Kon smiles despite himself, shaking his head as he starts descending towards the hospital rooftop. "Yeah, okay," he says, and leans down to brush his lips to Tim's dusty cheek. "Guess I'm okay with that."

Tim smiles.

[deathbxnny]

Hello! Could I request Acheron, Feixiao and Jingliu x Angel! Reader, please? (In context the reeader is an extremely powerful entity that has lived for centuries, basically their job is to slay evil beings and demons. They don't have a true form as they can shapeshift. However they have 12 angelic pure white wings with a bright halo. They can use any weapons however they usually carried a hot flaming sword that can pretty much burn anything even Aeons. However they have a very unique and gentle aura as they can calm down their bloodlust or give them peace with just their presence alone. Despite all of that they are extremely kind and empathetic. However because of their extreme power and presence they can't always intervine and humans affairs as they are also bounded by rules. However they aren't afraid of bending them if it means they can save lives or make their beloved life a little better)

HSR women with an angel!Reader. | Acheron, Feixiao, Jingliu

I found this actually pretty fun to write about Anon, so I hope you'll enjoy this too!<3

Content: Established romantic relationships, hsr canon violence, sfw

Reader has no set pronouns.

((Not proofread))

》ACHERON

You being an angel often fades into the back of her mind, as your presence envelopes her scrambled memories into a warm and calming hug. She feels at ease around you, finally finding time to rest in between her hard and at times difficult workload as a galaxy ranger.

She respects you as an equal and doesn't bring up your inhuman nature ever. You are one in the same. But that doesn't mean she won't admire your strength in her own special way. With focused eyes, she'll watch your sword set ablaze in battle, wings spread wide as you take flight and soar through the skies like a free bird.

Acheron often ponders the meaning of your relationship, as she can't fully understand what it is about her that you like so much to stay for. She isn't anything remarkable in her eyes, just a wandering soul on an endless mission, but perhaps that's just another similarity that keeps you together.

》FEIXIAO

How exactly she got you to be her partner may remain a secret to everyone, as she herself often is at a loss for words. Especially when you shower her with her so much kindness and softness, something she rarely gets to have due to her rather harsh line of work. You are the only one who gets to see her so vulnerable.

Your prowess in battle leaves her beaming with pride every time. And your true form makes her sigh in wonder. She definitely asks to train with you for hours on end, even if you obviously go easy on her. She doesn't mind, as long as she can admire your form for longer this way.

She admires your respect for the rules of mortals, and her heart warms when you bend them for her or her people. Feixiao never asks you to do so directly, but it makes her feel good to know that she is worth the love and attention of an angel in this way.

》JINGLIU

Despite never saying it out loud, she's eternally thankful for your presence in her life. You keep her bloodlust at bay and give her the peace she so deeply yearns for. You ask for nothing but her love in return, and who is she to deny a divine entity? She feels undeserving of you, yet never says a word against it. A small selfishness on her part, perhaps.

Your holy form is burned into the forefront of her mind, a strong figure that she could never defeat and never wants to even in the depths of her crazed, sick mind. The light shining off your halo filters into her eyes through the blindfold and makes her sigh in relief every time you are near her. The pain is more bearable this way.

And yet, despite this deep love you share, she knows that it will end sooner than you want to. Even you can not save her, or perhaps she doesn't want to be saved anymore. It is an unspoken fate between you, too, and she'll let you believe that bending the rules of mortality will keep her at your side for longer if it is that that makes you happy.

[genderqueerdykes]

As a straight guy who's a tad bit of an outsider to all the discourse, specifically lesboys and gay girls Ive seen many people use the argument that they don't understand something as reason to not respect it

If I don't understand something does it not make sense to not jump people over it until I understand it through research and actually talking with the person?

I used to be pretty transphobic and ableist for example, (which I'm not excusing here, I'm bringing it up as an example) until I talked with people. Both learning about people outside of what you hate for them and also learning about that specific part of them does great things.

Maybe I have a more simplified and un-knowledgeable view of everything because I'm not deep into it and just living my own life tho. I don't want to come off as dismissive by saying people need to go outside instead of discoursing but some people need to talk to people!

thank you so much for sending this ask you are awesome! you are exactly what we love to see in the wrold!

agreed. i can talk to people i don't 100% agree with because i'm really just curious as to how they think. i talk to conservatives and queerphobes i run into in person because ultimately they're a person and it's easiest to change someone's mind when you don't instantly attack them and make them feel threatened by your presence. simply put. i had a friend group of 4 cishet men, 3 of which who were conservatives. all 4 those cishet men accepted me as trans and gay (at the time, i wasn't out as bi). they said it was super easy to see me as a guy. it wasn't hard. i changed their minds just by being their friends

honest to god it sucks that people have such thin skin that they're concerned they have to pathologically avoid all strangers no matter what like.i talk to my therapist who i've been working with for 3 years every monday. i talk to my doctors, the other patients, whoever talks to me first, or looks like they need to help. i talk to homeless people on the curb or outside of a store. i talk to people asking for change.

i use public services a lot. i get rides to my appointments from strangers most days out of the week. i talk to people who have crosses in their cars and they're playing christian music. i had a pleasant conversation about how it's never obvious that public assistance programs are there and there needs to be people helping them get into them because if the help is there people shouldn't have to suffer. and then this person revealed they were a republican. they enjoyed talking to me and said they hoped to see me again. it gave me a lot to think about, because i assumed someone that conservative could never be kind to me as long as i don't get too deep into conversations that would cause tension because it's not worth it when you're just going to an appointment. you're not there to debate so you don't and it goes fine.

i have drivers thank me for the conversation all the time. ive had drivers shake my hand. these were people who would guarantee disagree with a lot of my politics or think differently if they found out i was trans but sometimes i just keep things to myself because i don't cause unnecessary drama. you never have to disclose whether or not you are cis or trans. you don't have to turn things into transphobia that aren't. there's just no nuance.

you can silently disagree. silently disagreeing involves going. okay wow i don't like that. and learning how to approach it in a way that, in the future, you can say it out loud without reacting emotionally in a way that temporarily clouds judgment. people just react before they think and it sucks. people are so easily hurt. it's not good. it's not okay that people are terrified of talking to someone who has a handful of problematic behaviors.

I don't want to come off as dismissive by saying people need to go outside instead of discoursing but some people need to talk to people! go outside. you'll see most people have a lot. you'll see that almost everyone has shit behaviors they have to learn because we're all programmed by this society in one way or another. you'll see that everyone out there has a completely unique opinion. meet people outside of your tiny bubble.

you can't profile strangers and then assume you know what they'll say next. it's stupid. don't charge into the situation hostile, flinging insults, misgendering people, attacking them for their identity, attacking them for using a word you don't like and so on. be kind. correct people kindly. treat them like a fellow person. im not scared of cishet men. ive had so many who have been so kind to me.

its just dumb to pathologically avoid people who are good to you because you hate their gender. that's not okay. that's profiling people over gender. stop it

[f4ggydog]

LOVE lottie breeding kink but what about reader having a breeding kink and wanting to be bred by lottie so bad and lottie indulging them...

nsfw!!! Lots of breeding going on and talks of it

"baby you have no idea how long I've been thinking about this," you plead. "it wouldn't be a problem, baby. I promise, I'd be so good for you."

"you don't even have to beg," lottie chuckles. "if that's something you wanna do, you know I can't deny you baby."

thank god she wasn't difficult to please. it's been a reoccurring fantasy you've been happening. and if lottie couldn't do it, you wouldn't know where you could find fulfillment. luckily, lottie was always open to trying new things in the bedroom.

lottie wastes no time with peeling off both of your clothes. there was nothing sexy about it. it was an urgent action, a quick motion to satisfy your longtime craving as soon as possible. if you wanted a baby so badly, lottie would supply you with one, pumping you full of cum day and night until your stomach swelled in size.

lottie positions herself on top of you, planting kisses all over your face. if she's going to breed you, she's going to do so with a tender sort of passion. because she's doing this for you. sure, she'll get pleasure from having her cock swallowed by a hot cunt. but this is mainly about you and accomplishing your own fantasy you've dreamed of. your enthusiasm and enjoyment is her main goal right now.

the red tip of her cock squeezes out precum, sticky white smothering your pussy lips. she's ready to slip inside, but lottie squeezes your hand as a way of asking if you're also ready. you nod. you've never been more ready for anything in your life.

lottie enters your cunt without a problem. your legs shiver when she penetrates you, but you have no issue adjusting quickly to her throbbing length. you relax into the bed, the back of your head nuzzled against the pillow as lottie thrusts. lottie secures her hands around your thighs, holding you in place so that she can't accidentally slip out of you.

"doing so good already," lottie compliments. "my god, you take me well. you always do baby."

"so hard for me lottie," you moan. "fuck, you feel so good. need this so badly, baby. you have no idea, f-fuck."

"I know how bad you need this," lottie groans deeply. "fuck, your pussy always feels amazing. fuck baby."

lottie wants to last long for you. but she's not sure if her stamina can keep up. it's a shame that she can't plow your cunt for at least a good half an hour. but lottie knew she was setting unrealistic expectations for herself, especially when you felt this incredible.

lottie tilts her head back slightly, gnawing on her bottom lip. you buck into her cock, hoping she'll stop suppressing some of her moans. both of you should be expressing your ecstasy. as much as lottie wanted to make this whole session about you, you wanted to see gratification painted on lottie's face too.

when lottie cums, it's like she's riding an extreme tidal wave. she shouts out your name, cum pouring into your pussy in long ropes. she leans her head against your shoulder, whining and panting into it as more cum pumps deep into your womb. lottie's hands tangle in your hair with desperation and her own hips jerk.

now here's to hoping that something actually came out of this breeding session.

[ssweeterthanfiction]

💌 for high school boyfriend finnick

Locker Notes

Valentine’s Day Week/Isa’s Birthday Week!! 💌- send me a prompt and a character/character + reader pair and i’ll write a “love letter” that they would write!

highschool boyfriend finnick odair x reader summary: finnick leaves you a note in your locker

Students filed out into the halls as the bell rang.

Slinging your backpack over your shoulder, you sighed tiredly as you walked out of your class.

So far, you had been having a bad week. School and life was just so stressful. And it didn't help that you hadn't had time to be with your best friend and boyfriend, Finnick.

He had been having long practices every single day. Sure he'd call you once he got home, but it didn't feel the same. You wanted to spend time with him but he was just always busy. During lunch he would be in the weight room or the lacrosse field. During the two classes you had with him, he would either be actually doing his work or sleeping.

Normally he would always be sleeping in class. Since he got home at 8pm after a five hour practice, 10pm on game days (sometimes 11 if he had an away game), you never wanted to wake him up. So you'd take notes and keep track of the work for him, but that also added onto your own stress.

You finally reached your locker, ready to switch out your morning books for your afternoon books you opened it, but then a folded piece of paper falls at your feet.

You bend over, pick it up, and open it...

My beautiful girl,

I'm writing during a workout break so sorry for any sweat smudges :(

First, I want to say I'm sorry for not being able to spend much time with you. Coach has just been really hard on us lately and I'm so sorry for not being able to hang out with you. Trust me, I hate it. I hate being away from you. I miss you so much. I miss hanging out with you in your room. I miss watching you study. I just...miss being with you

Second, I want to say that you are so incredibly amazing. I mean—I see you taking notes for me in class and keeping track of assignments, making sure I don’t fall behind. You shouldn’t have to do that. You’re already so busy and stressed, and I’m just so sorry that I’ve just been adding onto that stress. I hate that I’m adding onto it.

You mean so much to me and I haven't been showing that. You deserve everything and more. I would say you deserve the world, but you deserve more than the world.

So that's why tonight, after school, I'm all yours. No distractions. Just you and me.

We can order pizza, eat junk food and rewatch Mamma Mia a million times, or we can go out somewhere, or we can take a drive, or we can just lay in bed for the whole night.

I don't care as long as I'm with you.

As long as I get to hold you in my arms, as long as I get to kiss you, I don't care, I just want to be with you.

So once the last bell rings, I want you to meet me by my locker and we'll figure out what we'll do for the night.

Until then, I'll be counting down the minutes and seconds til I see you.

- Your favorite person in the world, Finnick.

When you finish reading the letter, you notice a little doodle he drew, a stick-figure version of himself holding a ‘I love you’ sign with a lopsided heart above his head.

You smile and hold the letter close to your chest.

You can't wait til you finally get to see Finnick later.

And you know that he can't wait either.

[renthony]

Goddammit I have things to say about Arcane again. I've said it before and I'll say it again: I have never been this obsessed with a show that pissed me off so much. Fucking hell.

Longish critical post under the cut.

Husband and I are re-watching Arcane from the beginning, specifically so we can do some critical analysis and frame-by-framing. This watch, I'm really fixated on the way Vi is reintroduced after being in prison, because it does not make any goddamn sense.

If Stillwater is primarily full of Zaunites working for Silco, and Vi is constantly fighting with them, but she's also constantly being tortured by the enforcers...who the fuck is watching her back? How is she alive? Yes, she has a solitary cell, but we see her let out into the common areas. If she has that many enemies in Stillwater, how has she survived this long? The answer seems to be "plot armor," and that's...not a good answer.

If she has literally zero allies in prison, and she is hated by both the inmates and the guards, she'd be dead. Even if we're supposed to assume Marcus gave the order to the other enforcers to keep her alive, we know for a fact that the enforcers are still abusing her, so they clearly don't actually give a shit, nor do they stop the other inmates from fighting with her.

Like, I don't care how much of a badass she is, she has to sleep sometimes. She has to eat sometimes. She has to take a piss sometimes. She is clearly in fighting-fit shape, she is clearly healthy enough to immediately start parkouring all over Zaun after release, so who's letting her have access to workout equipment? You don't get or stay that jacked just by punching a wall. How's she getting enough calories? You don't get the good food if everyone in the prison hates you. For all that she makes a joke to Caitlyn about prison food tasting awful, she is clearly not malnourished.

And who the fuck did her tattoos????? They're extensive and fairly high-quality. If someone else did them, who was she on good enough terms with? If she did it herself, who liked her enough to smuggle, sell, or share supplies with her?

It really wouldn't bug me as much if it weren't for the fact that the narrative seems to want me to see her as a forgotten loner who has nobody in her corner until Caitlyn. Fundamentally, that cannot be true, or Vi would have been murdered and dumped in the water long before Cait showed up.

Also, if Silco has that many people in Stillwater, how does he not have his fingers in the prison smuggling operation that clearly exists? I don't buy it. If he owns Marcus' ass that hard, and he's already involved in smuggling, he'd have spies and smugglers in Stillwater, too. I do not believe that Silco has the power and the confidence to casually threaten Marcus by showing up in the man's personal home, but not enough power and confidence to get spies into a prison that's already full of his own allies/underlings.

There are definitely possible answers to some of these questions, and I certainly have my own headcanons, but it really doesn't feel like the writers' room spent a lot of time thinking about the actual social issues and politics that they invoked for aesthetic.

Usually this is where I'd say, "I wonder what the S&P notes looked like, and I wonder how many episodes they got screwed out of, because so much of this could have been fixed with a little more runtime." Sadly, based on the shit that keeps coming out of Christian Linke's mouth, I don't think we can blame the corporate office for this one. If Christian Linke is telling the truth and the show got all the episodes they wanted, my ever-present "TV writers keep getting screwed, so I have to analyze the finished product with the knowledge that the creators likely got fucked over" goodwill completely vanishes.

The problem really seems to be that the show was written by centrists with a fundamentally flawed understanding of class struggle, drug use, the drug trade, and the prison-industrial complex. It's not surprising, but it does disappoint me.

And while I'm thinking about it, why is Shimmer somehow both drinkable and injectable in seemingly the same form???? Drugs can absolutely come in different forms, but we see people drink the exact same type of shimmer that other people inject. You don't drink injectable drugs. Fuck's sake, this is Skooma levels of "the writers just threw every scary-sounding drug in a blender to make Scary Super Drugs without knowing anything about how real-world drugs work."

Also, if the Firelights' big thing is that they hate Silco Because Of Drugs, I really wanna know how the hell Ekko found that many straight-edge anarchists willing to build a secret compound together. Are they against all drugs, or just shimmer? Where's their line?

[asterafroditis]

𐔌 . ⋮ not too late to run .ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

☓┆Azul Ashengrotto x gn! reader

𓏵 1005 words

ᝰ.ᐟ 3rd Person POV, no pronouns used, light angst, hurt/comfort

part 1 was originally supposed to be like this but I already reached my desired word count and got lazy. But then again I thought it'd be a waste to just let go of my original idea kwhah

feel free to like, reblog, or comment!

ᝰ.ᐟ masterlist

Azul didn’t move when the door shut behind you.

Didn’t exhale, didn’t let his shoulders slump, didn’t let his carefully crafted mask crack even as he sat there, staring blankly at the empty space you had just occupied.

He had always been good at self-control.

But this time—this time, he wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep it together.

Because you were gone.

Because you were going to confess to someone else.

Because he had just let you.

His hands clenched the edge of his desk, white-knuckled, as the weight of it finally settled in his chest. This was his fault. He had waited too long, let fear keep him silent, convinced himself that as long as he never heard the words I don’t feel the same, then there was still a chance.

But there never was, was there?

You had come to him. You had trusted him.

And he had smiled and given you advice like it was nothing. Like he wasn’t breaking apart inside.

Azul swallowed hard, forcing himself to think. He could let this be the end of it. He could let you go, let you confess, let you be happy with someone else. He could accept the consequences of his cowardice and never speak of it again.

He could.

But he wouldn’t.

Azul Ashengrotto didn’t take risks he couldn’t afford to lose.

But he had already lost you.

So for the first time in his life, he took the gamble.

And he ran.

You had made it halfway down the hallway when you heard it.

Your name—called in a voice you had never once heard Azul use before.

Desperate.

Out of breath.

Afraid.

You turned, shocked, just in time to see him skid to a stop in front of you, hands braced on his knees as he panted. His glasses were slightly askew, his usually pristine uniform wrinkled as if he had barely taken the time to fix himself before sprinting after you.

You had never seen him like this before.

“…Azul?”

He straightened up, his breathing still uneven, and opened his mouth—then hesitated.

You frowned.

"What are you—"

"Don't." His voice came out sharp, firmer than you had ever heard it. "Don't do it."

You blinked. "Do what?"

Azul swallowed, looking at you with something raw in his expression, something unguarded. "Don't confess to them."

Silence.

Your breath caught.

He took a step closer, his eyes dark and serious in a way that made your heart pound. "I—I know I have no right to say this," he admitted, voice wavering. "And if—if you truly care for them, if this is what you want, then I will step aside."

He took a shaky breath, his hands clenched at his sides. "But if there's even a part of you that—that isn't sure—" He swallowed hard. "Then please. Please, don't say it."

Your fingers curled around the hem of your uniform.

"You idiot," you whispered.

Azul flinched.

"You absolute idiot," you repeated, louder this time, and before he could react, you reached forward and grabbed the front of his uniform, yanking him toward you.

He tensed, startled, but didn’t pull away.

"You think I actually liked them?" Your voice shook. "You think I would’ve gone to you of all people if I did?"

Azul’s lips parted slightly, his eyes wide behind his glasses.

You let out a breathless, almost disbelieving laugh. "You were scared of losing me?" Your grip on his uniform tightened. "I was testing you."

Azul froze.

"What?"

"You never acted, Azul. Not once. I thought— I thought you didn’t care. That if you really wanted me, you would’ve done something. But you just— you just sat there."

His throat bobbed, something breaking in his expression. "I—"

"You let me go," you said, voice barely above a whisper.

Azul was silent.

Then, so quietly you almost missed it—

"I was afraid," he admitted. "Of losing you. Of ruining everything. Of hearing you tell me that I wasn’t good enough."

Your breath hitched.

"But nothing," Azul whispered, eyes dark and desperate, "nothing was more terrifying than watching you walk away."

Your fingers clenched tighter in his uniform.

"Then don’t let me."

Azul stared at you, unblinking, as if he didn’t quite believe what he was hearing.

But then—slowly, hesitantly—his hands came up to grasp your wrists, his touch feather-light, as if afraid you might disappear.

"I wouldn’t dare," he whispered.

And then, as if something in him finally broke, he pulled you close.

You barely had time to react before his arms wrapped around you, tentative at first, then firm, as if grounding himself in your presence. His forehead pressed against your shoulder, his breath shaky against your neck.

"You were never supposed to be just another risk," he murmured, voice barely audible. "You were the only thing I was ever too afraid to lose."

Your heart ached at the words, at the quiet vulnerability in them.

Azul Ashengrotto—the cunning businessman, the sharp-tongued strategist, the ever-calculating perfectionist—was holding onto you like he was afraid you would slip through his fingers if he so much as blinked.

And you had spent so long waiting for this.

Carefully, you lifted a hand to cup his cheek, guiding his face toward yours. He sucked in a sharp breath as your fingers brushed over his skin, but he didn’t pull away.

For the first time since this whole mess started, he didn’t retreat.

"You should’ve told me sooner," you whispered.

His lips parted slightly, but no words came out.

So you decided to take the risk for him.

Leaning in, you pressed a soft, lingering kiss against his cheek. Azul inhaled sharply, his fingers tightening around your wrists. You could feel his heartbeat against your own, rapid and unsteady.

"You won’t lose me," you murmured against his skin. "Not if you don’t let go."

Azul’s breath hitched—then, in the faintest voice, barely more than a whisper—

"Never."

And as he finally, finally pulled you closer, you knew neither of you would ever wait again.

[tayswife]

oooh could you write the first time that Galinda falls asleep on Elphaba???

— moonlight hours

☆ glinda upland x elphaba thropp

☆ summary: glinda finds elphaba studying alone in the library late at night. when she decides to stay with her, she finds it incredibly hard to keep her eyes open. the only comfortable spot for her to rest her eyes just so happens to be on elphie.

☆ warnings: none

☆ a/n: glinda and elphie looked way too comfy sleeping on each other on the train so i think that was definitely not the first time. sooo here’s my take of the first time :)

it’s when glinda’s about to slip into bed for the night that fails to see elphaba already laying in hers, she sighs and feels a sense of sadness. she can’t sleep without elphie in the room. and what if elphie’s in danger and glinda is just here unknowingly sleeping? what if someone’s bullying her and she’s not there to protect her this time?

anxious thoughts flood her mind, ones that she knows aren’t truly logical ones.

she has to go search for her friend or…whatever they are.

the search doesn’t take very long. she knows elphaba wouldn’t break the rules and leave shiz after curfew, and she knows shiz is big but elphie typically sticks to the same spots.

her first guess is the library, knowing elphaba always has her face shoved in a book. she doesn’t understand why the girl fancy’s reading over partying. but either way, she thinks it’s cute. she doesn’t know if she’d ever have the courage to say it out loud but, she think her green nerdy friend is really goddamn cute.

when glinda’s spots her presence in the library, before glinda herself can be seen, she quietly runs out and goes to the kitchen to brew elphaba some tea, and hot chocolate for herself.

she goes back to the library.

when the doors creak open, elphaba’s head pops up this time. her brows furrow and she bends her neck to the side in attempt to catch a glance of whoever is also deciding that studying is better than sleep right now.

“who’s there?” elphaba asks. her voice bounces off the walls and echos, making her words seem louder than the volume she actually said it.

she doesn’t know why but slight fear pools in her belly.

glinda pops her head from one of the isles to show herself, a gentle smile plastered on her face. strangely enough, she was glad to see glinda. she exhaled the air she was holding in once she saw those glimmering brown eyes.

"i brought you some tea," glinda says and hands elphaba the mug with steaming liquid, "chamomile."

elphaba grabs the mug and smiles up at her, "trying to knock me to sleep?"

"maybe," glinda smirks back and takes a seat beside elphie, "why are you up so late again?"

elphaba takes a sip of her tea and then places it onto the table. it somehow tastes better than when she herself makes it. something about glinda making it just tastes better. maybe the simple fact that it's glinda making it.

"i need to figure out how to stop letting my own emotions control me," elphaba responds, staring down at the book on her lap in shame, "i want to be able to control them. i'm tired of causing damage."

"well i don't think it's damaging." glinda scoots closer to the elphaba and their legs are touching each other now. glinda's outer thigh feels cold against hers but quickly warms the longer they sit there. "i think it's powerful and…inspiring."

elphie looks up when glinda compliments her and raises her eyes brows at her as a; really? you don't actually think that.

"you feel your emotions strongly," glinda continues, "i think you’re powerful and inspiring.”

elphaba tries to suppress her smile but she fails to do so. she shakes her head and looks back down at her book. there’s silence for some passing moments besides the crickets that chirp loud enough to hear them through the windows.

glinda yawns and that’s what elphaba finally speaks up.

“you know you can go to bed. i’ll be fine here.”

she doesn’t want glinda to leave.

“no. i won’t go to bed until you do,” glinda says stubbornly. she hates when elphaba deprives herself of sleep just for her studies. she just doesn’t understand it.

“glinda—”

“im staying right here until you go to bed.”

“fine,” elphaba says, knowing she lost the battle. she looks back at the pages. glinda places her mug down and lays on her side on the bench that their sitting on. her head rests on the hard wooden surface and her body is positioned so her legs curl right beside elphaba.

once again, silence fills up the large library and the bench becomes increasingly painful against her body but most noticeable against her head. she will not give in though. she’ll stay right here until elphaba’s the one to crack.

she sighs until elphie looks over and can see how uncomfortable she is laying on the hard surface. she feels bad even though that was glinda’s plan all along anyways. "do you want to lay your head on my lap?"

glinda leaned up on her elbows and looks at elphaba while she spoke. the blonde girl simply smiles brightly and nods before getting up and laying her body the other way so her head is cushioned by the tops of elphaba’s thighs.

glinda’s typically very touchy and doesn’t have much personal space with elphaba, however, this environment and circumstances make elphaba even more extremely nervous than it usually does. not in a bad way. but in a way that she hasn’t felt towards any other person before.

elphie attempts to focus on the words on the paper but her eyes keep drifting to the sleepy blonde on her lap.

"glinda, you're falling asleep," elphaba says, looking down at the blonde girl that can hardly keep her eyes open.

“no,” glinda mumbles, and then says something that’s completely incoherent.

“you should get to bed before you’re fully asleep.”

glinda whines and shifts her body so her face is covered by the fabric of elphaba’s nightgown. her eyes are completely closed and she isn’t quite sure if she’s dreaming or not right now, but she won’t crack and admit that she’s falling asleep.

“won’t fall asleep, i promise.”

elphaba sighs. she knows that’s a straight up lie. but glinda does look so adorable right now, and the moonlight shining against her features through the cracks of the window make her look really pretty. for once, glinda is calm and not bouncing off the walls. she just gets to sit here with her and get the physical contact she’s always been deprived of. with the girl that she wants it from the most.

elphaba lets it go and starts focusing back on the pages of her book, trying not to move much in order to not disturb the sleeping -or totally not sleeping- girl on her lap.

after just a minute of silence, glinda unexpectedly speak up again, “elphie?” she says in a tiny voice, only merely above a whisper.

“mhm,” elphaba hums.

“can you scratch my back?” she asks, and for once, she sounds shy. glinda is never afraid to confidently ask for what she wants. but somehow this green witch comes along and brings out an entirely different side of her. when elphaba doesn’t answer fast enough, glinda speaks up again. “it just…relaxes me.”

“yeah, yeah, totally,” elphaba says. she places her left hand on glinda’s back that’s only covered with a thin piece of pink fabric and elphaba thinks of how cold she must be.

with the tips of her nails, she gently makes a circular motion on glinda’s back. she can feel glinda’s breath evening out, and by this elphie can tell that she’s on the threshold of falling into dreamland.

elphaba continues with her fingers movements, and when she finds her mind again, she starts simultaneously reading her book.

after what was most likely a half and hour, elphaba decides it’s time they both head back up to their dorms. however, the biggest problem she faces is the dead asleep glinda on her lap that’s practically pinning her to this bench.

she slowly slides her body to the edge of the bench, holding tightly to glinda’s body because they last thing she wants is for her to roll onto the floor and get hurt.

this ordeal would be much easier if she just woke glinda up, but she simply doesn’t have the heart to do so when she looks so peaceful.

she somehow manages to stand up with glinda in her arms. like a koala, glinda wraps her legs around elphie’s waist, still being asleep but knowing what to do out of instinct.

she walks out of the library. everything’s so dark and quiet but luckily the path from the library to her dorm is one that she could walk in her sleep.

when they finally get to the hallway of their dormitory, glinda lifts her head off of elphaba’s shoulders and looks around for a moment, her brown eyes wide and full of sleep. “it’s okay, i’m just taking you to bed,” elphaba coos. glinda puts her head back down on elphie’s shoulder and closes her eyes as if she were never even awake in the first place.

elphaba can hear glinda’s soft breaths by her ear and down her neck. it causes goosebumps to arise on her skin and her own breath evens out when glinda shows how comfortable she is with elphaba picking her up and trusting to take her to their dorm.

glinda; the one person who trusted that elphaba was a genuinely good person despite her green skin. the only person who believed that it made her better than the rest of the population.

elphaba somehow carried glinda all the way to their room. she was so grateful that all of shiz was dead asleep at this hour. she wouldn’t even want to hear the gossip if a wandering eye had caught this scene.

it was a struggle to open their door but once she managed, she brought her over to glinda’s bed and gently placed and down with her head resting against the headboard. her eyes fluttered open momentarily but immediately shut again.

elphaba sat down right in front of the half-sleeping girl.

“glinda,” elphaba said quietly but loud enough to keep the blonde girl awake, “don’t you want to wipe your makeup off before you sleep?”

“mhm” glinda responded, and elphaba knows glinda didn’t even listen to anything she said because she just sat there sleepily.

“okay,” elphie sighed and walked over to glinda’s vanity to grab a face wipe. she walked back over to the bed and sat in front of glinda.

glinda stared right at elphaba except her typical big brown eyes were only slightly open. usually, elphaba would’ve blushed and burned at glinda starting at her so intently, but she knew the blonde witch wasn’t even on this planet at the moment.

“i’m just gonna wipe your makeup off,” elphaba said, knowing glinda wasn’t listening but still wanting to say it incase she was.

elphaba brings the wipe to glinda’s face and by instinct, glinda’s eyes flutter shut. elphaba slowly and gently starts to wipe away the mascara painted on glinda’s lashes.

only a moment goes by before glinda suddenly jerks her head away from elphaba, suddenly having some energy in her. elphaba’s heart drops, her first thought is how she must’ve poked glinda in the eye by accident and she wants to cry at the mere possibility of glinda being hurt because of her.

“what— what’s wrong?” elphaba asks, her words strongly laced with worry.

“I don’t,” glinda looked down at her lap, “I don’t want you to see me without makeup.” her voice was raspy from sleeping and elphaba tried to ignore how attracted she was to it.

“what do you mean?” elphaba asks with the uttermost confusion. glinda said it as if they hadn’t been roommates for months now, as if she wasn’t the most perfectly crafted girl in the world. elphie simply didn’t understand. “i’ve seen you without makeup before. every single morning and night actually”

“yeah i know but like, from a distance.”

elphaba thought she was the most beautiful girl in the world, but something about her bared-face, no makeup and sleep still in her eyes always made her feel a special way towards glinda. it’s a glinda that only elphaba gets to see. the imperfect, yet still so perfect, glinda with no makeup. elphaba wished she could see her like that up close.

“glinda, i’m green. do you think seeing you without makeup is anything crazy?” glinda giggles, they both do. but then glinda’s face gets serious again. “if it helps any, i still think you look beautiful without makeup even from afar.”

glinda looks up from her lap, her cheeks are burning a deeper shade of pink and it’s not from her blush. “well, i think your green skin is beautiful.”

elphaba smiles and shakes her head, “let me wipe your makeup off now so you can get to bed?”

glinda hums in agreement, still feeling the anxiety of elphaba thinking differently of her. thinking she might see how flawed she is.

elphaba wipes off her makeup so gently that glinda almost fell back asleep even with the coolness of the wipe. glinda doesn’t look much different but it’s the mere fact that she’s just…glinda.

“already falling asleep again,” elphaba says with a simple smile she’s very clearly trying to supress and glinda doesn’t respond because elphie is correct once again. “let’s get you under the covers, alright?”

elphaba goes to help glinda up, but the girl refuses again, whining something incoherent until elphaba sits back down. “wanna sleep with you,” she says, eyes closed and head still resting against the headboard. elphie wonders if she’ll even remember saying it by the morning.

“what?” the green witch asks, not sure if she had even heard her correctly.

“i wanna sleep in your bed with you. don’t wanna be alone.”

elphaba glanced over at her own bed across the room and then back at glinda. she wanted to share a bed. a twin sized bed. with the girl that she had suppressed feelings towards. but glinda was so sleepy and she was asking so nicely—

“okay. okay, come on,” elphaba cracked. she expected glinda to stand up and follow her over to her bed, but she continued to sit there with her eyes shut. the only indication that she was still awake was the little smirk on her face.

“carry me?”

elphaba could not win tonight. she loved every bit of glinda’s clingy sleepy state and the time she was spending with her, however, it did not help her shove her feelings for her down further. matter of fact, it only made it nearly burst right out.

elphaba was in no room to argue with the girl on how she was going to get across the room and so the elphie grabbed her under her arms and carried her right over there.

elphaba’s bed was already unmade; ready for her for to slip into when she was done studying. certainly not expecting another girl to be in it with her.

she gently placed glinda on one side, and right as glinda’s head hit the pillow elphaba swore she immediately fell asleep.

elphaba went to shut off just one of the lamps of the two lamps that were lit. they agreed on sleeping with a single dim one on because glinda’s doesn’t like the dark. once she did that, it was time to slide into bed with glinda.

but she was afraid and hesitant. she didn’t immediately walk back to her bed. momentarily pausing right where the lamp was. why was it so hard to get into her own bed? just because a certain blonde witch was laying in it? she’s probably fast asleep by now anyways.

elphaba turned around and walked back over, slowly dragging her feet as if she had shackles around her ankles.

glinda still laid there in the same position. her rosy lips were slightly parted and her blonde hair was messily spread over the pillow with some strands laid across her face.

elphaba got in and laid down. finally. she took a deep breath because the hardest part was completed. she grabbed the duvet that was folded by their feet and draped it over both their bodies. elphaba felt as if she was now fully trapped in bed with glinda.

and it wasn’t horrible.

it was actually the complete opposite.

but then glinda stirred and somehow her head ended up laying on elphaba’s chest. and there was an arm wrapped around elphie’s waist. “thank you,” glinda said simply, breaking the complete silence. she must’ve not been fully asleep.

“for what?” elphaba asks in utter confusion.

“for taking care of me,” she responded, “and for letting me sleep with you.”

“of course, glinda.”

“i really like sleeping here with you. you’re warm. wish i could stay here with you forever” glinda mumbled into green skin. elphaba can feel her heart pounding and can even hear it in her own two ears. she wonders if glinda can hear it too. she must. she’s laying right atop of it.

elphaba goes to respond. she doesn’t know what she would really even say. but this time she can see glinda truly asleep. she can hear the difference in her breathing. she envy’s how quickly the blonde girl could fall asleep.

but then she remembers how glinda only ever falls asleep like that when she’s with her…

and she tries to not think about it so her, now, even faster heart beat won’t awaken glinda.

[dixonverse]

Mr. Reedus

WARNING: Sex, Riding, swears, dirty talk, sub daryl, Dom reader, fem reader.

Mr. Reedus, your history and ELA teacher, is a man of quiet warmth, gentle, compassionate and endlessly patient. Yet beneath his composed demeanor lies a secret he dares not acknowledge. For far too long he has harboured feelings for you, a longing he knows he can't act upon.

But when he notices your grades slipping, his concern outweighs his restraint. After class, as the last student drifts out the door, his voice cuts through the silence.

“Stay behind, we need to talk.”

You nod and sit at a chair in front of his desk. “What's wrong?” You ask with that smile you know drives him crazy. “You haven't been keeping up with your grades.” He states bluntly, his dark blue eyes look into yours as he crosses his arms, leaning back in his chair. “I know you're smart, but I can't have you failing my class. Tell me, what's going on?”

You smirk and shrug “I've been… distracted i suppose.” You say in that sultry voice that makes his head spin. He raises an eyebrow. “Distracted huh?” He says with a hint of curiosity. “And what exactly has been keeping you so… distracted?” 

You chuckle lowly and lean forward, looking up at him through your eyelashes, a look that enough to make him weak in the knees. “A certain someone is just so distracting… but I promise I won't let it stop me from improving my grades.” His eyes flicker with a mix of curiosity and surprise, his cheeks flushing slightly as he realizes you're talking about him.

 He quickly looks down at the desk, trying to compose himself but his blush deepens. “I…I see” He clears his throat again, avoiding eye contact. “Well I'm glad it isn't anything serious but it's affecting your grades and I can't let it slide.” You smirk and lean closer. “Why not? I promise I'll do better.” You say with mock innocence but that smirk is nothing but innocent. 

“Because… because it's not fair to the other students. It's my job to hold everyone to the same standard.” He tries to sound authoritative but his voice wavers slightly under your intense gaze. 

You chuckle, a low sensual sound. “Okay Mr. Reedus… what would you like me to do to up my grades?” He swallows hard, trying to ignore the shiver that runs down his spine at the sound of your chuckle. He fidgets in his chair, feeling flustered and distracted. 

He clears his throat and forces himself to speak professionally, despite all the things he wants you to do to up your grade, running through his mind. “You can start by doing your homework on time and actually participating in class.”

 You roll your eyes and fake a yawn. “Boring… how about something…” You trail your fingers up his arm “A little more exciting?” He shivers as you trail your fingers up his arm, his self control wavering dangerously. His blue eyes darken with desire and surprise. 

His breath hitches and he has to constantly repeat to himself to stay professional. “Uh… that uh… i-i don't think that's appropriate.” You roll your eyes again “Oh please…” You say as you squeeze his shoulder “Let me make up for my grades.” He lets out a soft gasp as you squeeze his shoulder. 

His eyes darken with desire fully, darting around the empty classroom before finally meeting your gaze. He can feel the weight of your seductive charm crumbling his self control, and the sensations your touch is igniting in him is driving him wild. 

You run your hand down his chest then back to his shoulder before sitting him down and you stand up. He lets out a shaky breath as you sit him down, feeling powerless under your control and confident seductive touch. His heart is racing, his pants feeling uncomfortably tight. He glances around the room again, aware they could get caught in this compromising position but he's too far gone to care. 

You straddle his lap and lean down to whisper “Don't worry, doors are locked.” He shudders as you straddle his lap, your warm breath against his ear sending a jolt of arousal straight to his cock, his hands instinctively go to your hips, holding you in place as he struggles to maintain his self control. “Mmm look at you, finally giving in?” You whisper into his ear and bite down on his earlobe.

 He lets out a low moan, his eyes fluttering closed. His grip on your hips tighten, his fingers digging into your flesh and he feels his control snapping like a twig, all restraint out the window. “I've seen the way you look at me Norman. The way you double take when I walk in class with my short skirts.” His face flushes with embarrassment as you call him. 

He swallows hard, trying to deny the truth but it's written all over his face. “I… i dont” He stammers weakly, his voice cracking as you grind down on his lap. “Shh, don't deny it” You say as you move your hips in slow deliberate circles on his hardness. 

He gasps, his hips jerking upwards despite himself as you grind against him. 

His eyes roll to the back of his head for a moment, he lets out a low groan, unable to form words. His hands move to grip your ass, pulling you closer against him. You gasp and moan softly which turns into a low seductive chuckle as your hands roam his body. “See? You're giving in… admit it, you want this as much as I do.” His breath hitches at the sound of your chuckle, his resolve completely shattered . Now, he can feel his cock throbbing in his pants, desperate for release as you tease him mercilessly. “I… yes.” He admits in a low shaky whisper, his hips grinding up against your with urgency. You moan again and smirk, grinding down on him faster and harder. You lean in and press kisses to his neck. His eyes flutter shut again and he gasps loudly as you hit a certain sensitive spot that makes him see stars. His hips jerk upwards and his hands tighten on your ass. “Oh god… Oh fuck.” He moans out. You moan in response to his moans and curses and suck harder. He lets out a strangled cry of pleasure, his cock throbbing painfully in his jeans as you form a hickey on his neck. “Fuck! God… we have to be quick… the janitor… he comes in ten minutes.” You speak in a mock innocent voice with a smirk “I'll be quick then, but only if you give me better grades… unless you want the janitor to come in and see us like this.” He groans, torn between the temptation of your offer and the guilt. The feeling of your body grinding against his and your mouth is too much to resist. “Yes… I promise, just dont stop.” You smirk and bite down on your neck, lifting your hips as you reach below you two to take his cock out. 

He cries in pleasure and pain as you bite down on his neck, his hands gripping your ass tightly to compose himself. His eyes roll to the back of his head as you take his cock out, his cock springing free and leaking precum. “Oh my…” You shake your head with a smirk. “So hard for me already.” You say as you slowly stroke him. 

He shudders and moans, his hips jerking up into your hand as you slowly stroke him. His face is flushed and sweaty. “I.. I can't help it. It's all your fault.” You chuckle seductively and lean down to run your tongue slowly over the tip of his cock. “And guess what? I'm not wearing any underwear… just for you.” 

His eyes widen in surprise and arousal, his cock twitching violently as you run your tongue over his tip. “Oh f-fuck..” He moans loudly, his hands fisting in your hair as he imagines you with no underwear. “Jesus…” You take his hand and slide it up your skirt “Go ahead, feel.” 

He lets out a strangled groan, his fingers shaking with desire as you guide his hand, he feels the slick wetness between his fingers and he moans loudly, his cock throbbing even more. You chuckle seductively and lift your skirt to give him a view. He looks down, his eyes nearly popping out as you lift your skirt up, he lets out a strangled gasp. 

“Oh god… Oh my god we can't do this…” He whispers weakly, even though he wants to fuck you right there and then. You chuckle and take your skirt off. He lets out a low moan in response, his head falling back against the chair as you tease him and position yourself right above his cock. His cock twitches in anticipation, leaking precum like a broken faucet.

 “God, just ride me already” He groans. You chuckle lowly and then lower yourself on his cock with a low moan. “Fuckkk, you're so big…” He lets out a guttural moan as you sink down onto his cock, your tight wet heat enveloping him like a vice. “Ohhh fuck… Fuck you're so tight.” 

You chuckle at his compliment and smirk as you slowly start moving up and down. He lets out a strangled moan and gasp, each movement sending waves of pleasure crashing over him. You start unbuttoning your shirt and his eyes lock onto you undoing the buttons. “I..i… fuck im not gonna last, slow down please.” He pleads, his fingers digging into your hips as he fights to hold back his release. 

You pick up the pace despite his pleas, wanting to drive him crazy. You shrug the rest of your shirt off revealing your breasts. His eyes nearly pop out of his head as you take the rest of your shirt off, they're bouncing up and down with each movement of your hips, the sight of your naked chest sends him hurtling towards release. “Oh my god.. Fuck… your gonna make me cum so fast, please let me cum.” 

You love how desperate he is and you shake your head “Mmm not yet…” You grind your hips with your thrusts so you hit your sweet spot which makes you moan loudly. He lets out a strangled cry of frustration and pleasure as you deny him release, his eyes are fixed on your bouncing breasts and the look of ecstasy as you grind against him. 

“Oh god please.. I can't… it's too much… I'm gonna cum.. Please let me cum.. Please please please.” He babbles, his cock twitching violently inside you. “Please your pussy feels t-to good… have mercy on me please let me cum… I'll give you good grades, I'll be your toy to play with whenever you want, just please…” You moan softly at his begging and nod. “Go ahead and cum for me.” 

His cock immediately explodes inside you with a loud cry of your name and a shudder. His hands grip your hips so tightly it'll leave bruises. His eyes roll to the back of his head, completely lost in the euphoria of his release. But after a few moments the reality of the situation comes crashing down on him. 

He looks up at you with panic and guilt as he realizes what just happened. You chuckle and pull off of him. He looks down at his cum leaking out of your pussy, the sight making him both incredibly turned on and guilty. “Oh god… I'm so sorry… I didn't use a condom..” He stammers, reaching for some tissues on his desk.

 You chuckle and shake your head. “I'm on birth control. I may have shitty grades but I'm smarter than that.” He breathes a sigh of relief when you reassure him. You start dressing back up, a smirk plastered on your face as you look into his eyes. He watches in a daze as you dress back up, his cock still twitching despite just cumming inside you. 

“I…I can't believe we just did that… in my classroom… in school hours.” He whispers, running a shaky hand through his hair. “I know right? So exciting.” You say with a smirk as you pull your skirt up. He quickly tucks himself back in his pants and starts buttoning his shirt. “I cant believe how stupid i was, i could lose my job..” 

You quickly shake your head, your smirk gone replaced by a reassuring look. “I'd never say a thing. I promise.” He looks at you with gratitude and relief. “Thank you… but still… I'm old enough to be your father. What are you? Like twenty one?” You roll your eyes with a smirk “And i like that.” He blushes deeply at your casual admission, his cock giving a twitch in his pants at your words. 

“You.. What?” You smirk and nod “Mhm… I like older men, especially as hot as you are.” He shakes his head and blushes. You smirk and bend down to grab your bag, making sure to give him a view. He swallows hard, trying to look away but can't. “Jesus… stop tempting me.” You chuckle. “Never. See you tomorrow Norman.. Oops.. i mean Mr. Reedus.” He groans as you leave the room, your parting words making his cock twitch again. 

He swallows hard, trying to ignore the fact he's alone with a raging boner and the scent of your sweet pussy lingering in the room. He watches you walk out, his eyes glued to your perfect ass until you close the door. He groans, slumping into his chair, his mind replaying everything that just happened and he knows nor will he or you two ever go back to normal. Nothing will be the same again.

[near-mint-condition]

Too Much Time - if Shadow was never put into stasis.

Part 1 | Part 2 | > Part 3 < | Part 4

Keeping POV on Sonic and Tails for the beginning here!

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

Sonic paced around the village impatiently. What the hell did Shadow mean, unfinished business??? He barely gave them any information, and he's already left. Sure, Shadow said he'd be back tomorrow, but that's an entire day away! He didn't even talk about living arrangements...

Sonic passed by Tails' workshop for the 34th time that hour, but noticed his buddy waving. He sped over, skidding to a stop just in front of the door. "You got an update on your analysis stuff?" he asked.

Tails nodded, waving him inside. "Sure do. I've got good news, and..." He pauses, sucking in air through his teeth. "Well, I'm not sure if it's bad news or not, but..."

Sonic interrupted him. "Tell me all of it. We'll figure it out."

Tails fiddles with a tail as he explains. "Well, the good news is you don't need to go to a medical doctor. At least, not yet. The other news... I couldn't figure out what they did to you. I'm going to need more time, but there has to be something to find. You were gone for a week, they can't have just kept you in stasis... it just doesn't make sense."

Sonic shrugged and smiled. "Why not? Maybe they just didn't know what to do with me! It's hard to improve on perfection, after all."

Tails' brow furrows as he sighs and shakes his head. "Sonic, you are so reckless, you know? Just... look, stay around for the next day. At least until Shadow comes back... if he does."

Sonic pouts. "But sitting around is boring!"

The fox's eyes narrow. "Sitting around is the only thing you'll be doing if this shit turns out to be detrimental to you."

"Woah-ho, easy there, buddy! Language! Fine, I'll stay around... just, give me stuff to do, at least."

......

......

Sonic woke up early and flopped onto the couch, flipping through TV channels. He noticed something odd and went back a couple channels, leaning forward. “BREAKING NEWS” scrolled across the bar at the bottom, as images of smoke and fire billowing out of a distant military base filled the screen.

"... bringing us to wonder, was this a coordinated attack? Or was it simply a malfunction within the facility? Rescue teams have been unable to get inside, and for the moment we don't know if there are any survivors. Up next, the weather."

Sonic rewound and paused. He squinted. Something about this place feels familiar. He was just about to put his finger on it when he was interrupted by a knock at the door. He was at the door in an instant, opening it.

Shadow stood there, looking exhausted. He came inside without waiting for an invitation. "Shadow? Where'd you go off to?" Sonic’s question went unanswered as Shadow stared at the TV. An emotion flickered across his face, one Sonic couldn't quite place. Shadow snatched the remote off the table, changing the channel as he did. "Hey! I was watching that!" Sonic whined.

Shadow glared at the blue hedgehog. He tossed the remote over, which Sonic caught easily. "Dude, what's your deal?" Shadow slumped onto the couch, getting out his notepad and pen.

"Business done.”

The sound of a door opening stopped Sonic before he could respond. Tails groggily leaned over the second floor railing. "Sonic, it's four in the morning... why are you being so loud...?" He rubbed his eyes and slightly opened them, barely catching Sonic and a second shape... a second. Instantly, Tails’ eyes snapped open. "Shadow?! You're actually back! Hold on, let me come down," he said as he began whirling his tails together, helicoptering over the railing and downstairs.

Sonic lets out a long sigh, tapping his foot and running a hand through his quills. “Shadow decided to change the channel when I was trying to figure out why the place they were showing on the news looked familiar.”

Tails landed and folded his arms. “You know they show stuff on the news more than once in the same day, right? Especially if it was something big.”

“I guess you’re right,” Sonic says, scratching his head. “I’ll just catch it later, then.”

Tails lets out a halfhearted laugh before turning to Shadow. "So... did you decide on taking up Sonic's offer of living here? I do have a spare bedroom that you could use until we get a house made for you."

Shadow stared for a moment, slowly coming to the realization that, yes, that was what he was doing. He scribbled on his notepad. “Is that okay?”

"Of course! Are you hungry? We could talk about where you want your house over breakfast." As if on cue, Shadow's stomach growled. Tails and Sonic laugh as Shadow turns away slightly, embarrassed.

"Well, that settles that! Chili dogs, anyone?" Sonic offered, getting a groan out of Tails.

"Chili dogs for breakfast? Come on, Sonic..."

"What? You still owe me from yesterday!"Shadow holds back a smirk. You still don't know if you can fully trust them yet. Give it more time...

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I'm SO sorry this took so long, but I promise it's worth it! Part 4 just needs some editing, and part 5 is in the works!