#i want them to have a meal with each other

[heartyluv]

Note: I had received two asks that were pretty similar, so I figured merging them together was the best way to go! Also, I just wanted to say how much I really dislike the misconception that losing your virginity is something that is supposed to hurt. It’s absolutely not true…Is it a possibility? Sure. But with the right preparation, care, and patience from the one who is going to be penetrating you (if that is the route of intercourse you choose to take), depending on the person, the most you may feel is slight discomfort from experiencing something you never have before. We have to stop making pain an expectation for individuals with vaginas irl and in the things we consume!!! Anyways, I hope you luvlys enjoy! 😚

Click to read ➜ Ask #1 • Ask #2

Warning: Smut, you and Zayne lose your virginity to each other, kinda slow (Zayne is undoubtedly a man who takes his time, so I hope it taking a little bit to get down to the do is okay), mentions of you having a brother with a heart condition

Rating: Explicit - !!MDNI!!

Word Count: 3.6K (literally didn’t expect this at all)

Summary: You invited your boyfriend over for dinner and as the night progresses, a simple date turns into you two learning and exploring one another in ways you never have before.

Virgin!Zayne/Virgin!Reader

You were trying to keep yourself calm as you began to baste the nearly ready ribeye steak after reading Zayne’s text message.

I’ll be there in five minutes.

You were incredibly nervous, wanting to make sure that you prepared the best meal possible for the man you intended to show your gratitude to. When you met Zayne, it was almost two years ago. He was the saving grace you’d been hoping for, becoming the doctor taking care of your little brother Andrew who has been suffering from a heart condition. It was only getting worse as other treatments and surgeries offered no positive results, so putting all your faith in Zayne required you to surrender your last bit of hope.

You fell in love with Dr. Li the moment your eyes landed on him and even more so when you saw the way he treated your brother. He was so gentle and attentive with him in ways you’ve never seen offered by any of the other medical professionals your family tried to turn to for help.

He had specifically made sure to make time for your family when he had gotten ahold of the paperwork because Zayne has always had a soft spot for helping children in need. It was with zero hesitation on his part that he contacted your parents directly and had them bring in the ten year old little boy who wouldn’t let his condition break him no matter how hard it’s tried.

You knew Zayne was a stupendous doctor, but the rate in which your brother began to improve always brought you to tears no matter how many times you thought about it. Everything he did and continues to do is the reason why you could actually stop worrying as much as you have been and why your family could finally take a breather for the first time since Andrew was born.

Your daily visits to the hospital and conversations led to you and Zayne becoming friends—very much to his surprise—and while you may have been the one to fall first, Zayne fell infinitely harder over time at a pace that was foreign for a man like him. The day he asked you out for what he called a “friendly lunch”, quickly turned into a month and a half of dating before he asked you to be his girlfriend. Obviously you were bouncing off the walls with joy when you told him yes over and over again until your cheeks hurt from smiling so much.

And now, even if you’ve only been official for a short amount of time, you wanted to cater to the man you’ve fallen hopelessly in love with as a way of saying thank you despite having had said it so many times already.

At the same time that you cut the stove off, three soft knocks rapt against the front door of your apartment. You quickly washed and dried your hands, running barefoot to answer it, but not before you got a quick glimpse of yourself in the mirror beside the entrance. You’re proud of yourself for not getting your cherry red dress dirty, smoothing it out with a small huff.

No matter how long you’ve known Zayne, seeing him always feels like the first time with the way your insides flutter with rampant emotions.

Finally pulling the door open, you smile at your boyfriend who has a bouquet of red peonies in his hand. His eyes soften when they land on you and you’ve always found it so cute when he uses his knuckle to push his glasses up like he does now.

“You look beautiful,” he says softly. You silently fawn over his simple attire of a black dress shirt and slacks that he makes look sexier than what it should be.

Before you speak, you wrap your arms around his neck for a tight hug, to which he gladly reciprocates by encircling one of his own around your waist. You pulled back to press a quick kiss to his slender nose.

“Thank you, babe...These for me?” Your eyebrow raises playfully as he steps inside.

“Of course.” He faces you once you’ve locked the door to look you over again. “What kind of guest would I be to come empty handed?”

“You’re more than just a guest, Zayne.”

“It still applies, nonetheless. Two things can be true.”

You take the bouquet, making a note in your mind to have him trim the stems with you tonight before putting them in one of the vases he’s bought before. He watches with adoration at how you inhale their sweet scent, humming at the calming aroma.

“They’re perfect,” you exclaim, letting your fingers trace the soft petals before putting your attention back on him. “Ready to eat?”

“I am. I must say that whatever you’ve prepared smells quite good. As I assume the taste to be just as impressive, I’ll have a lot more eating to get around to, won’t I?”

You grin as you take his hand, guiding him to your small dining table. “Let’s find out.”

Not only was dinner a success, but the entirety of the night so far has had you on cloud nine. You and Zayne talked about any and everything as he praised you and your cooking. This was the first time you’ve ever prepared a meal for him and with the way he devoured it, you knew it wouldn’t be the last. You’ve never been a woman to seek validation but when it came to him, every opinion he had was important because of how much you valued and respected him.

To see how much he enjoyed the steak, crispy potatoes, and broccolini, made you feel a sense of pride because this beautiful man was yours to feed forever—if you were granted such a gift.

He and you slow danced to a classical song you showed him since you knew music like that always calmed him during times where work got a little stressful and his mind needed something to mellow it all out. It was a scene straight out of cheesy romance flick but instead of being the watcher, wishing it was you who got to experience that corniness, you were actually living it and it couldn’t be more surreal.

One song had turned into four, and you can’t stop giggling the whole time as he holds your hand and sways your bodies to the gentle instruments working together to create a lovely symphony.

And to your liking—admittedly with a little bit of hesitation in your gut—Zayne began to get more handsy.

“This night is supposed to be about you,” you whisper as his hand presses you closer to him by your lower back.

“Anywhere you are is all there is to me.”

“Hm…Aren’t you quite the poet?”

He chuckles at that. “You see my truth as poetry?”

“Everything you do is poetic to me,” you shrug. “You’re so effortlessly intense in your emotions, but it’s not in a way that overwhelms. It…surrounds you instead. Protects you.”

“You haven’t had all of me just yet to know how much my intensity can burn.”

That sends shivers down your spine because you know exactly what he means. You can feel how your heartbeat increases.

“Really? And if I wanted to see?”

“You would be the first to and I’d be more than willing to show you.” The way his tone lowers and the suggestiveness of his statement makes every single goosebump possible dot along your skin.

Your eyes slightly widen, too. There’s no way. A man like him? You stop your movement, forcing him to do the same.

“Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

“What exactly do you assume I’m saying?”

“Zayne!” you say in playful disbelief at how he seems to joke about some crucial information he’s never shared. “Are you?”

“Am I what?” He smiles with mischief, rubbing his thumb over your bottom lip. “No matter how well I can read the expressions on your face, I unfortunately can never read your mind.”

“You’re so…” you groan. “You’re telling me the youngest, most handsome and talented cardiac surgeon in the country, has never had sex with anyone?”

“Never,” he says plainly.

“Why have you never said anything? You seem like someone to share a fact like that pretty early on.”

“While conversations pertaining to intimacy is inevitable in romantic relationships, because I did not want to intimidate you—and simply because it never became a topic of discussion—I never felt it was necessary to mention.” He gazes into your eyes. “Until now.”

“What’s different?”

“Well, it’s become a reality that I wouldn’t mind changing. If you were to give me the permission to do so, of course.” His hand cups your face and his thumb caresses your cheek. “I’ve dated before and I’ve had moments where the opportunity would arise, but sex has never been a casual exchange in my eyes. There’s nothing casual about us though, is there?”

You’re dumbfounded and more than willing to, but there’s just one thing. You briefly respond to his question with a shake of your head first before announcing your admission.

“I’ve never done this before either,” you breathe out, feeling immense relief about revealing something you shouldn’t have been embarrassed to say, but you knew it was the expectations of society that made you feel that way. But now, learning that Zayne is exactly the same brings you so much comfort, even if your reasonings for why may be different.

You’ve only been dating a little over two months and miraculously, sex has never happened nor has it been talked about. Similarly to him, you didn’t want to rush it or to make him feel obligated about something you weren’t sure he was ready for. Despite how much you wanted to jump his bones on all your dates and times together, you spent more of it appreciating and learning the complex man that is him.

But all that complexity is dropped as you can clearly see the lust that clouds his beautiful eyes and the need that continues to grow in the way he touches you.

“Maybe we were always meant to be the ones to find and teach each other. Would you like to test that theory?”

It’s like your body gravitates towards him and becomes incapable of forming a sentence to answer, so it takes the next best route and uses itself to respond for you. Your lips make contact with his soft ones, tasting him like you’ve done before, but there’s a different air to this kiss.

Your body presses into his as he keeps you in place by the back of your neck, the brief chill of his silver watch cooling the fervent heat burning along your skin. His tongue slips inside your mouth—not taking control—but working with yours in tandem to show you how mutual the craving for one another is.

The way he takes only a millisecond to separate from you to remove his glasses makes your pussy clench as he discards them on your kitchen counter. He returns to you immediately, holding your face in his hands this time while yours work frantically to unbutton the shirt that’s keeping you from seeing him.

You moan when he kisses down the side of your neck, your breath unable to stabilize because of how hot he’s gotten you.

“Your room,” he mumbles into you. “Let me do this right.”

You nod, but Zayne has you in his arms effortlessly like you’re made of paper before you can try and take him there. The dishes you haven’t washed become a problem for another time when you feel his bulge press against your hungry pussy through your panties on his trek.

He turns your light on so that he can see you clearly, his disheveled look making you think every filthy thought possible. It’s a sight to see compared to his usual put-together image.

“Even if this is new for us both,” he approaches you again, looking into your eyes for permission before he begins to slide the thin straps of your dress down your shoulders after you grant it. “You’re in control. You tell me what will and won’t happen and that is what it will be.”

Left in your bra and panties, you feel so grateful to have a man like him being the one to walk into this world pleasure with. But despite how comfortable you are with him, you’re still nervous. It’s with slightly shaky hands that you continue to undo the rest of his buttons, feeling his eyes on you as his hard body is revealed.

You can’t stop from how you clench over and over around nothing, knowing that you need him to fill that emptiness inside you so desperately that it’s becoming uncomfortable. The clink of his belt makes your nipples tighten and you watch how the veins disappear into his pants like they’re a pathway to where you need to be.

He lets the silence rest, allowing for you to move at your own pace. For that, you’re incredibly thankful because you know that by the way his abs flex every time you graze his skin, the desire to be all over you is strong.

You gulp as you get the pants completely undone, looking up at him. He doesn’t waste a moment nodding for you to keep going, the need to be released from his confines becoming overwhelming. He strains so deliciously in his black boxers that cling to his thighs and it shouldn’t be such an erotic image, but it is.

“Fuck, Zayne…” you exhale when his erect cock springs out and briefly smacks against his toned stomach. Like the rest of him, it’s absolutely perfect. Long but not too long, thick but not too much girth that it makes you wince at the mere thought of it inside of you, and curved ever so slightly that if you weren’t taking the time to admire it, you wouldn’t notice.

There’s a tingle that you can no longer ignore, forcing you to press your thighs together. You’re so wet that you can feel your pussy lips slide against each other every time you shift your hips to suppress the ache.

You grasp him in your hand and the way he borderline falls apart has you gushing. His mouth is slightly parted and his face flushed as you stroke him enough to give his cock some relief.

“Does that feel good?” You swipe your thumb over the tip like you’ve see so many times in videos before and the reaction he has is breathtaking. He nods frantically, his heartbeat pulsing rapidly in his strong neck.

“Please let me touch you,” he begs. “You’re supposed to be feeling good, too.”

“I already do.” You start to jerk him off, feeling the weight of his dick in your hand as you use his precum to get him wet. “I’m yours, Zayne. Touch me as much as you want.”

What kind of man would he be to not listen to his woman?

He quickly makes work of your tedious bra, getting it off of you and immediately sucking on your tits like it’s all that was on his mind during your teasing. You cry out when he gently bites your sensitive nub before switching over to the other to give it some attention. At the same time, he snakes his hand into your panties.

You instinctively raise your leg to give him room as he works your clit, your hips bucking against him while he circles you beneath his fingertip. Together, you use your hands to stoke each other’s raging fire.

“Baby, that feels so good,” you whine when his hot tongue lays flat against your peak before licking around it like it’s a skill he’s had all along. His fingers keep their steady pace as you continue to drench them in your pleasure. Then he slides one finger inside, the feeling of him infinitely better than when you do it to yourself.

“Lay down,” he mumbles, getting one more quick suck before you pull back to get into your bed. You watch him pull his clothes off all the way, your legs spread as your panties dig in between the plush lips of your cunt.

Zayne picks up his pants briefly to dig into his pocket and when he pulls out a condom, you can’t help but smile.

“I’ve never carried one before until I met you,” he admits, tossing it on your end table for easy access when it’s time. “I always knew it would be you and humans are spontaneous creatures—as we’re proving.”

He climbs into the bed, getting in between your legs and caressing the outside of your thighs as he admires the dampened fabric of where your juices have soaked your underwear. “I just wanted to be prepared for when it happened.”

Irresponsibly enough, you were ready to fuck him raw, but you won’t admit that out loud.

“I’m ready for you, Zayne,” you rest your hand on his jaw, running your finger across his lips like he always does to yours. He shudders at your touch. “But if I said that I wanted to be on top, would you let me?”

“You don’t need my permission. I already told you,” he leans down to kiss you. “You’re in control.

You get up and he doesn’t need you to tell him to sit so that you can get ready to climb in his lap. While you work your panties down your legs, he rips the packaging of the condom with his teeth and you nearly drool as you watch him work the rubber down his hard cock.

Riding Zayne has been a fantasy you’ve had for far too long. You’re more than confident that you can take him like this—it’s like your body is screaming at you to not let the opportunity pass when it’s right there for you to take.

“Look at me,” he commands you gently as your knees rest on either side of him. “Don’t hesitate to stop or tell me to if it gets too much. Your safety and comfort comes first.”

“Okay,” you breathe. With one more look into your eyes, he guides his dick to your quivering hole and the pleasure is instantaneous.

The moment the crown of his cock pushes inside you and you begin to sink your hips down, you and him are moaning like you’ve never felt anything so perfect and if you were to ask each other, your answer would be the same—you haven’t.

There’s no pain, no resistance—nothing that makes you want to stop when he starts to become familiar with the way you feel on the inside.

If he feels this good with a condom on, you’re convinced that the day you have him without one will be the day you conceive your first child.

“Zayne..” you pant, looking down to watch how he disappears completely into your heat. The first time you grind your hips and your clit gets that spark of friction, you have to pause before you lost yourself completely.

Below you, your boyfriend is unable to think straight and for the first time in your life, you’re witnessing your man have no semblance of control. When your tight walls sucked him inside, he was so sure that he was close to coming, but he refused to end something so good, so soon.

With his hands on your hips, he holds you firmly while you start to find your comfort zone, your movement becoming consistent as you work towards giving him and you the satisfaction you’re looking for.

You never expected Zayne to be so vocal and it encourages you more than it shocks you. With hooded eyes, he whimpers without a care in the world the more he pulses inside of you, his grip shifting in strength as he tries his hardest to make sure you get there first. You press yourself closer to him, letting the squelching sounds of your pussy suffocating him be all the reassurance you need that you’re doing it right.

“I’m close, love,” he warns you, sweat beading at his hairline the faster you go. Your thighs burn, but it only adds to the bliss.

You’re right there too, feeling that familiar coil in your stomach that’s grown tenfold when you share this kind of moment with the man you love. You rock yourself faster as his strong arms hold you tight, giving his cock no room to breathe the closer your orgasm approaches.

“You’re….oh fuck, ‘s so good,” you cry. “I’m gonna…Zayne, ‘m coming—” You bury your face in his neck when you start creaming around his length, your hips slowing but still going as you feel the condom swell inside of you when he spills his load into it. Briefly, you wished you could’ve felt it leak out of you instead.

You feel how his chest rises when yours falls as you kiss down his shoulder after you take the time to settle and relish in the feeling you can’t quite name, but you want to have it all the time.

“That was nice,” you hum. “Really nice.”

“It was.” His hands smooth down your back tenderly. “How do you feel?”

“Amazing.”

“Good. On that we can agree.”

You sit back to look at him, biting your lip with a grin. “You…have another condom?”

“No, unfortunately.” The corner of his mouth tilts up. “But I can make a trip to the store for a box.”

“Are we being greedy?”

“Greed implies that we’ve selfishly overindulged ourselves. That was our first time, love.” He kisses the corner of your lips. “We are far from being finished.”

You repeat his words, knowing that he’s absolutely right.

“On that, we can agree.”

A/N: I wanted to ask you guys: Do you like when I give you a whole bunch of plot/backstory before I start jumping into smut or do you just want smut? I think it’s the book writer in me that’s always trying to give something before I dive into the sex LOLLL!! Also, let me know what you think about this one (if you’re comfortable). I’m sure you noticed there wasn’t as much dialogue because as two inexperienced people having sex for the first time, I’m sure dirty talking/actions wouldn’t really be happening, so this fic is really vanilla & mainly based on visualizing. I hope I wrote it vividly enough. I talked a lot on this post, didn’t I? LOLLL OKAY, I LUV YOU! BYE!

[98tsuki]

caleb / xia yizhou x reader. 849. angst. no evol au. i wanted to explore what it would be like if caleb had close relationship with someone who isn't mc and how his priorities between the two of them would affect a third party. :3 ׄ ׅ ⊹ ﹫ part two.

another tear slides down your cheek in frustration. another empty chair splinters your heart in two. another pitied look from the server marks five within the last month—five dates gone wrong somehow, and if you’re being honest, you’re not sure why you keep trying.

you thought this one would be it for you. they were nice, courteous, even, and laughed at your jokes and stories. they even seemed genuinely interested in you, if the kiss after your first hangout meant anything. it was just right, with the sun setting in the background.

you should have known, honestly. good things never lasted with you.

tipping the server and paying for the meal you picked at for the past hour or so, you stumble out of the restaurant with a ugly sob beginning to brew in your chest. shaking hands pull out your phone and dial the one constant you’ve had since disaster date number one, and like always, he picks up after the first ring.

“hello?”

you never knew how much warmth one word could bring.

sniffling quietly, your answering hi is enough to have his full attention, gentle shuffling on the other end meaning he’s at full alert. you don’t have to tell him much for him to already know, and before long, you hear keys and the sound of his door clicking shut.

“send me your pin. i’ll be there in a few.”

your thanks is shaky, ending the call before sending him your location, and sink against the stone stairs out front in defeat. you’ve long since put the embarrassment of having your best friend pick you up after each failed date behind you, but a tiny part of you can’t help but gnaw at the lingering shame. it was pathetic, wasn’t it? going on date after date only for them to dwindle to nothing each time without fail—either they stood you up or simply ghosted you after ‘not finding what they needed’.

(the date that buttered you up just to make their ex jealous stung the most.)

it hurt, more than anything. not being able to find someone that stuck. you suppose you’ll end your search after tonight, you reason, blinking back tears as you see a familiar car pull up. battered tennis shoes slowly stop in front of you, and when he squats, familiar violet eyes search yours with concern. never pity, not once, and you reach out for him without a second thought.

caleb helps you up once again. leading you to his car, he pulls the hem of your dress down over your legs once you’re settled in the passenger seat and drapes his jacket over your thighs. caring, is what your mother called him, looking out for you since you were kids, and you knew. you knew it better than anyone how much he cared.

too bad he already had someone, though. 

jealousy rears its ugly head once more, grinning sickly as your head falls to rest on the window. he settles in the driver’s seat and places a hand behind your seat to back out of the parking space—and effectively sends your heart into overdrive. you shouldn’t be feeling this way. you shouldn’t.

he’s the reason you’ve been going out on these dates, your inner voice helpfully supplies. you squash it and tear your gaze away from his side profile.

home is his apartment—your apartment, shared after your lease went up and everyone felt it made sense for you to move in with him—but tonight, it’s daunting. going back to shared mugs and blankets even though he doesn’t know why your dates keep ruining. he doesn’t know that it’s partly your fault, too.

they’re not him, that voice pipes up gleefully. you sniffle quietly and ignore it again.

instead of climbing out, he turns the engine off and turns to you, gaze searching. in all the years you’ve known him, it’s his silence that spurs you, unknowingly weighing on your shoulders like blanket. it makes you turn to him, dried mascara under your eyes, and you hold your breath.

waiting. hoping for something you know won’t happen.

he seems to hesitate, hand hovering in the space between you two, but his words are always left unsaid. and it really isn’t good for your health, to want something you can’t possibly have, proved blatantly so by his phone screen lighting up.

you watch his lips curve up at the sight and regret settles like a stone in your stomach. despite everything, despite trying your best to make him see you too, she would always be at the forefront of his mind. she would always be his first priority, the only one that could make his eyes soften with unabashed adoration the way you desperately wanted to.

“actually,” you voice croaks from the ache beginning to fester more rapidly than normal, and he looks up quickly. “can you drop me off at xavier’s?”

you chose not to see the way his face falls at your request. he nods once, silent, and put the car in drive again. another tear slides down your cheek.

[earthsparked]

IM SO SORRY THIS IS SO DAMN LONG!!! THIS IDEA ATE AT ME AND SUDDENLY THERE WERE OVER 1K WORDS ON MY SCREEN!!

Been thinking about how there are many earth organisms that will pretend to be dead or fake an injury (distraction display), and humans are nothing if not theatrical and creative. We have a whole art of horror dedicated to fake gore and looking dead (or ‘undead’). 

---

“I volunteer as tribute!” You say with glee, standing on your tippy toes as if it will help in any way. “Let me help!”

Every mech in the room swivels to your small form in horror. 

“No!” They all shout, nearly clambering over each other to dissuade you from doing something foolish.

But as the situation becomes more dire, the bots begin to discuss amongst themselves about what the next steps are and how they can best keep you safe. The coterie patch on your jacket will stop you from becoming a target, but if the base continues to take damage like this, who’s to say if you’re really safe here. They’ve only been on planetside for a few days, but according to their records, there’s a research camp nearby that has previously housed a couple of humans. One of the mechs can hopefully speed by undetected and drop you and a bunch of supplies off nearby, before returning to the fight. 

They all vote in agreement, much to your complete dismay. The feeling of being abandoned by your cohort runs through your body like an icy plunge. You spend the next, precious, few minutes yelling and trying to make a case for yourself, but to no avail. They still think you’re weak.

‘Soft.’ They say. ‘Delicate. Precious. Adorable.” 

Hah! Precious? Yeah right. It seems they would rather leave you to the elements of some random planet than grant you the dignity of going down with them. 

“I can help!” You cry out again. You just want a chance. Why won’t they let you at least try? Why do you always have to keep proving yourself to them? Why can’t they just trust you like you trust them? What’s the point of the contract if they don’t even want you around?

You can feel your face heat up and the grounding pain of your nails digging into the soft flesh of your palms. You don’t say anything as hot tears threaten to spill. How could they?! 

-

You’re silent while being transported by the mech you consider to be your best friend. With arms and legs firmly crossed, a simmering pout drags down your face. Scrappy rests on your lap, softly chittering. Among the emergency supplies, you packed a bunch of MRE rations and a big bottle of hot sauce to make them palatable. 

You begin to open one while still inside their interior, just to be spiteful. Small crumbs scatter everywhere as you struggle with the foil seal. Sandwiching the amalgamation of bread and mystery protein together, you pop the cap of your favorite condiment and drench the poor meal. 

Suddenly, the world tilts, and you choke on your bite. A ringing fills your ears as you scrunch your eyes closed and heave violently. You get two seconds of a clear airway before the rush of wind steals it.

Scrappy saves you from the brunt of the fall as you are thrown, facefirst, out of the bot. Landing hard on your stomach and skidding a few feet, you wince as the bottle shatters between you and your scraplet. Glass pokes through the material of your shirt and stabs into your skin. Immediately sensing your injury, your pet folds in on itself and wriggles under your clothing. 

The dust starts to settle while you feel tiny, sharp teeth pull the shrapnel from your flesh. Pressing a hand to hold their warm form against you, you curl onto your side and see your friend laying, unresponsive, on the ground. Smoke rises from several holes in their armor. Horrified, you feel your world narrow, and your eyes dart around for the offender. 

It’s another cybertronian. Their form towers over the both of you, and you can feel each smug step through the floor as they slowly approach. Adrenaline dumps into your body as you take in the monster that just hurt your friend. Your family! Distantly, you can hear the others through your communicator informing you that help is on the way.  

Time. You need to buy time. 

Quickly thinking, you obnoxiously groan as you drag yourself to your feet. Slumped forward in pain, you twist your neck at an odd angle and regard the enemy with a calculated glare. 

Dramatically stumbling forward, you whimper and cry out loudly. The bot turns away from your mech and sneers down at you.

“Eww. I didn’t know they were carrying an organic.” They gag.

Limping further from your friend, you start to purposely twitch and spasm. Every so often, you’d pretend to go boneless, nearly toppling to the floor, only to swiftly catch yourself in odd lunges.  

“Hey, uh, what’s wrong with you?” The assailant questions wearily.

The front of your shirt is soaked with blood. Already the wounds have healed, thanks to Scrappy, who wriggles under the wet fabric in a way that makes the enemy take a few steps back.

“Eugghhhh.” You moan, lumbering closer and closer. “I don’t feel so good.”

The moment you make them fully turn their back on your mech, you plunge forward with a wet, gargling gasp. On the ground in front of them, a few paces from their pedes, you inhale as much air as you can into your lungs and SCREAM!!!!!

Thanks to the endlessly entertaining reactions of your cohort, you’ve been working hard on your flexibility. With practised ease, you flip yourself into a backbend and press your abdomen into the air. Startled by your sudden theatrics, Scrappy rips through the front of your shirt, causing the remnants of your sandwich and globs of hot sauce to go everywhere. You let out another, final scream, cutting off halfway and collapsing to the ground at an unnatural angle. 

“Eat.” You whisper, making a hidden handmotion to go with the command. Just for fun, you stick out your tongue and regard the bot above you with glassy eyes.

With an ear-piercing shriek, the assailant transforms and tries to run away, only to run directly into the cavalry. They are quickly dealt with, and your family comes running over to you. 

You pick yourself up with ease and whistle for Scrappy to return to your side. As you look down at the state of yourself, everyone rushes to crowd over you, feeling your tiny EM field spike suddenly with stress.  “Dude” You whine, with nearly as much emotion as when you earlier thought they wanted to discard you. “I really liked this shirt.”

[tobesolnelyx]

S3 vampire Shauna🤤please please feed us more!

(Also can I be 💫 anon?)

— drain me! || vampire!shauna shipman headcanons

a/n: hi 💫anon!! i hear you guys and i need her just as badly <3

summary: ancient fucker, who decided to annoy you for another eternity. toxic!shauna. vampire!reader.

warnings: NSFW - content MDNI. mid gore. toxic relationship.

★ — you don't really want to know her real age. the number would scared you, trust me. she basically can't settle down. met few girls, been with them. but everytime, when she turned someone else to a vampire, they would simply run away from her. which is completely reasonable if you ask me. until she came to that shithole, Wiskayok in New Jersey and met you. you, who seemed to be so kind, so painfully human that she started feeling ugly jealousy. she didn't know if she wanted to be you or be with you.

★ — she came up with a diffrent tactic. decided that if previous relationship ended awfully, she'll make everything properly this time. properly in her terms, of course. which meant showing up in your room late at night, feeding on you. one night she simply lost herself. she bit you and make you swallow her own blood. so yeah, next day you were a mess.

★ — shauna, who proritised making you utterly dependent from her. she wanted to control you, keep you close. she pretended that she had no idea, who turned you, and basically decided to play this hero, who shows you how to live with that whole vampire thing now (read: you're fucked)

★ — shauna, who wears flannels everwhere in any weather to not get burned. sometimes uses bandanas on her head, and sunglasses. she says that they make her look cool or smth, but you doubt that.

★ — she feeds on people, saying that they're more nutritious and taste better than animals. you always grimace at that, it's not exactly ethical in your mind, but she stopped caring long time ago. she flirst with mortals only to drag them later to the bedroom and devour them.

★ — shauna, who introduce you to the real pleasure. when she urges you to feed on her for the first time, you're hesistant. is it even...right? but she pulls you on her lap with this ridicoulous strength and speed. you wrap around her, her hands guides yours to touch her pulse point, and you almost drool yourself. you hear soft thumping of her heart, feel tempting body under your fingertips, and you barely register the moment when your fangs are fully out.

★ — shauna, who helps you ride her thigh, while you suck her blood. she's precise, pressing you against her just right. you whine in her skin, smearing blood all over your mouth. she's done this so many times, and still - her hips jerk with each movement of your lips. she's groaning, head thrown back in ecstasy.

★ — she's...sassy. ovedramatic and whiny. mind her, she's been so long on this world that she's bored. but at the same time, she refuses to even acknowledge new technology. mostly gets frustrated with that. "shauna it's..." you start, but she cuts you off with a scoff. "it's total bullshit" she rolls her eyes not even looking at the app you're showing her. "back in time it didn't even exist and everyone were just fine."

★ — bites. bites. bites. obviously, she's a vampire. but she loves biting you just to taste you, your blood, your skin. not exactly to feed on you, but she has this strange desire to feel you on her tongue constantly.

★ — possessive. long story short, she'll either kill or turn into a meal anyone, who will try to flirt with you. good luck with having friends. she'll feed on them anyway. you don't need other people, right? just her.

★ — has a power of manipulaton. she was great at gaslighting before, sure. but now, anytime you try to walk away, cause she's starting to do fucked up shits, she uses that strength. the worst part? you know that this sweet tone of hers means that you're being awfully manipulated , but you stay anyway. you can't just walk away.

"baby," she murmurs cupping your face, making sure you're looking her right in the eyes. her smile seems almost poisonous. "you don't really want to leave me, do you?" she brushes your cheekbones and presses kiss to the corner of your mouth.

"you're mine," she'll tell you later. "you were never not mine," she'll whisper to your ear.

★ — oversensitive. better smell, hearing, eyesight (especially in the darkness. her eyes are glowing deep red). has constant headaches and gets easily overstimulated. seems like she's never got used to being hyperaware of everything. she lays on bed on worst days, sighning dramatically and rambling something about endless suffering.

[applestorms]

sebastian/ciel relationship dynamic breakdown (pt. 2)

For a clearer breakdown of what this post will entail, please read my little intro for part 1 (linked here). Also: this section will be covering the latter arcs of the series, so please pay EXTRA attention to the spoiler warning on this one. <33

SPOILER WARNING !! (obviously.) there is a lot of summary in this, albeit hopefully narrow/focused, and filtered through my own thoughts and analysis. be warned. this is also not inherently a ship post, though you may certainly read it as such. have fun 🫶

6. LUXURY LINER ARC: VACATION GRANTED

Backstory time!! :D This arc is delightful in that it provides us with some really clear insight into the greater trajectory of Sebastian and Ciel's relationship over the last few years, especially when it comes to showing just how far they've come since their first meeting. As Sebastian's memories show us, Sebastian was not always the hyper-competent butler we know and love today, and Ciel himself was not always as settled into his position as head of the Phantomhive House or Funtom. (We also get the incredible reveal that Sebastian was, in fact, named after Ciel's dead dog, which will never not be funny. <3)

The big thing here is the reinforcement of the fact that, as much as Sebastian and Ciel love to fuck around and get on each other's nerves, they have also put a lot of work into learning how to get along and function like a team. And they do! What's also neat about this flashback sequence is that it comes in the middle of an arc that is generally quite high-stakes and tense, action-heavy in a way that means both of them are consistently on high alert and not as inclined to fuck with one another since a Whole Lotta People's lives are on the line. Sebastian is really giving his all for most of this trip, and Ciel is cognizant of that enough to grant him quite a formal break. They care about each other!! Perhaps even to their mutual embarrassment at times, and not entirely without some level of selfish motivations on both sides-- but there is also clearly something deeper starting to be established by this point, at the very least a habit and instinct to collaborate that will not be easily broken, though whether or not it will stand up to any tests will have to wait for a later arc. (Hint, hint.)

But back to the flashback-- obviously, the juiciest part of this for SBCL specifically is the fact that this is the first time we explicitly see Sebastian try to test the limits of Ciel's dedication to his whole revenge plot. This is great for two reasons: first, it is one of the more notable pieces of evidence we get this early on about just how untrustworthy and scheming Sebastian can be, as well as what his instincts are like as a demon, and second, it reinforces Ciel's unwavering dedication to their contract. For the latter point in particular, this is the first arc to really show some notable Ciel character development in this sense, which is important as this unwavering dedication to his revenge is obviously going to play a massive role in some of the next few arcs.

sidenote1: With regards to motivations, you could maybe argue that this is just Sebastian getting sick of his job or even Ciel and wanting to punch out early, but considering how much he seems to enjoy his whole butler cosplay schtick later on, I'm not as inclined to agree with this interpretation. Personally, I think a more interesting take on this is that Sebastian is reverting back to what he knows about humans from previous contracts, that they are selfish, power-hungry, and greedy for money and romance/sex, and applying that to Ciel to try and push at his limits and see if he'll take the bait, only to be caught off guard when Ciel defies him and doubles down on his original intention. At this point in the story Sebastian is, at the very least, still dedicated to the idea that Ciel's soul is going to be this drawn out, slow-cooked gourmet meal that will totally rock his shit, and he wants to be Certain that his initial prospecting was correct. This is new for both of them!

Ultimately, this arc as a whole functions as reinforcement: of Sebastian and Ciel's growth in their relationship, of their respective dedication towards Ciel's protection and revenge, and of their capacity to work as a team under stressful circumstances. It is certainly not perfect, and this connection will be tested in the future-- but for now, they've got other shit to worry about.

7. PUBLIC SCHOOL ARC: UNDERTAKER STRIKES BACK

Unfortunately for our purposes, this is the arc in which Sebastian and Ciel seem to interact directly the least, largely because they are once again forced to play distinct teacher/student roles and dedicate most of their meetings to scheming meaning that we're mostly back to just watching SBCL working at peak cooperation, with Sebastian once again bending to Ciel's will even if it means a ton of extra work for him (lol). That being said, there's still a lot of gay shit happening more generally at Weston, and we notably have one major moment between Sebastian and Ciel at the very end of the arc, which points at another idea I wanted to discuss:

If there is One (1) Thing in this entire series that makes it the most clear Sebastian and Ciel's relationship is the core of the story upon which all else revolves, it is the fact that Undertaker is the series' primary villain. Or rather, to put this the other way around: Undertaker himself makes it clear that Sebastian and Ciel's relationship is the central by constantly threatening to snatch Ciel away and break the two of them up.

This threat was clearly established by Undertaker in the last arc, and it becomes Very relevant yet again in some of the most recent arcs, but it's the brevity of the scene in this particular arc that causes me to view it like a kind of microcosm of these three's dynamic throughout the entire story. UT really doesn't do much once his identity is revealed during the tea party-- other than talking, his only notable action is to reinforce himself as a threat to Sebastian by proving, which he manages to do without even actually doing much other than anticipating the situation so that he can position himself closer to Ciel than Sebastian is. It's a very slick, subtle move, but one that Sebastian picks up on and hates.

It's because of this that I actually kinda view this scene as more fundamental to establishing UT as KURO's primary/endgame antagonist than his reveal as a shinigami in the last arc, as this proves that UT is someone who is dangerous, calculating, and capable of fucking up Sebastian to a previously-unseen degree. Quite impressive, really.

Notable as well is the fact that this approach to exploiting Sebastian's weakness (namely, Ciel) is not without its precursor either-- as I mentioned back in P1, Ciel himself even uses this weak point to his advantage, putting his own health and safety at risk due to his own stubborn determination during the Circus arc. For all his overpowering strength, his one greatest desire is also his most obvious soft spot, and the biggest players in this game are very much aware of that fact.

8. EMERALD WITCH ARC: OH MAN.

Oh, man.

I'm gonna try to keep the recency bias off of this one if I can since the anime is currently still coming out at the time of writing this, but OH FUCKIN' MAN. Two big things for this one: tentacles, and trust.

To start with the tentacles: hey, remember in P1 when I mentioned Sebastian and Ciel's close connection and dedication getting tested? This is that-- or more specifically, a kind of internal test served from Sebastian to Ciel, to check and see whether or not he still has the same kind of Dedication that he originally had to their contract. This is obviously also quite similar to his initial testing of Ciel's will right after his meeting with the queen as seen in the LLA, though with notably quite different circumstances: now Sebastian isn't just fucking with Ciel, not just testing him or trying to see if he'll adhere to his preconceived notions of what humans usually act like/want, but rather trying to see if this will be the thing that breaks him. He seems to be genuinely disappointed by Ciel's reversion and inability to break out of his trauma, taking to extreme measures to either ensure he gets his meal or, hopefully, break Ciel out of it.

Which he does!! To the great relief of basically everybody involved. And not only that, but we come out of this with an important reinforcement of not only Ciel's commitment to their contract and his revenge, but a valuable gloss on his claim to revenge-- a clarification of his pledge, that he is getting revenge for himself and nobody else. Ciel is grieving, but he recognizes that the dead will never return. His relationship with Sebastian is thus one that benefits him for himself and for himself alone, and nobody else will ever get in the way of that. This is Ciel regaining his self-confidence, his trust in himself, and growing closer to Sebastian because of it.

Thus: at the end of this arc, when Ciel says that Sebastian is, "the one he can trust the least," I really do believe that he is being truthful. He doesn't trust Sebastian, or at least not without some caution-- he is not nearly foolish enough to put his full faith into the monster trying to eat him, and (as we shall very soon see) hasn't been since the very beginning. They are closer now, certainly, but that is due in no small part to Ciel's trust in his own abilities to use Sebastian as he pleases and exploit his weakness (himself) to get what he wants.

The irony of this is that, overall, I think Sebastian and Ciel's relationship does have a greater positive impact on Ciel, on his self-confidence and strength and his ability to regain his agency after having it so viciously ripped away from him. Ciel doesn't want a strong, capable hero to save him, not after all that has happened to him by the time he and Sebastian finally meet-- he wants power and vengeance, the strength to stand on his own legs, and Sebastian, intentionally or not, gives him that. And it's that soft undercurrent of their relationship that paints their relationship in a much more interested, nuanced light than the surface level observation of "evil demon preying on a traumatized child," that is still true, but doesn't quite capture the full picture.

9. MUSIC HALLS ARC: PEEKING OVER THE EDGE

This arc once again features a mostly submissive Sebastian, with a majority of the emphasis falling on Ciel while he gets his shit freaked. Lots of this perhaps comes from the fact that the PSA kids are back, meaning that the cast of somewhat major characters is once again quite large and spends a lot more time bouncing around, setting up some of the REALLY major shit that's right on the verge of being revealed. Most of the pressure is either on Ciel or about to be, so their relationship specifically isn't under enough tension to be tested again in any major ways just yet. There are still some minor moments of friction, of course, but none that really feel character-defining like in the previous few arcs-- the story is foreshadowing a lot here, with tensions from the last 100+ chapters rising, but not quite tipping over the edge... until the end, anyway. When it comes to interactions with other characters, Sebatian and Ciel are pretty in sync this arc, falling back into a more typical dynamic as they team up to train and terrorize their new boy band.

That being said, there is ONE slight exception to this, and that is the slight interlude we get with the Halloween chapter (approximately chapter 119.5), which is one of my favorite specials so I must ramble about it at least a little. As a reminder, here's the last few pages:

I just love this. The symbolism!! THE SYMBOLISM!!! I know I just went on a whole spiel in the last part about how Ciel doesn't trust Sebastian without question, and I still do believe that, but this does point to the fact that Ciel does have some assurance in Sebastian's ability to keep himself safe for as long as it takes to get his revenge. Functionally he believes in him, at least enough to light the way forward, and even to snuff out that flame when the appropriate time does come. Fates intertwined, etc. etc. etc.

The symbolism of Sebastian putting Ciel in a devil costume is also Very intriguing to me, though I'm not entirely sure that I have one clear answer for it. While it is in part just a very funny costume for Ciel to wear, I can't help but feel like there is some kind of greater meaning behind it-- Sebastian's mutual influence on Ciel, perhaps? Grooming him into something more like him, even as Ciel willingly hands over his life and affects him just as much? It seems obvious to me that something a whole lot Bigger than just the contract has been coagulating in the deeper bond between these two, but I'm not entirely confident that I can place the specific nuances of what that is just yet. And looking at Sebastian's face in that second to last page... I'm not entirely sure that either of them have the words to place exactly what it is either.

sidenote2: Could this be interpreted as romantic? Almost certainly-- but it is the nuances within that which interests me most here. How much do they actually trust each other, and how aware are they of this? They're clearly pretty codependent-- but are they themselves even willing to recognize this? When does the predator/prey relationship end, when do the master/servant roles stop, and where do they begin to legitimately care for and respect one another? As we see in the most recent arcs, there is still plenty of room for their relationship to be tested, for the limits of what they are/aren't willing to admit to be put in conflict with what they want above all else. Their conclusion is still a ways off, I guess is my main point here.

10. BLUE MEMORY ARC: LEASHING THE DOG

Sebastian is fucking FERAL in this arc and it is so unbelievably incredibly hot narratively interesting. This entire section has some of the absolute BEST interactions between any two characters in the entire series, istg. Easily my favorite section in the whole entire comic. They're unbeatable. Incomparable. Unmatched meet cute at the demon summoning ritual. What if I was next in line to be sacrificed on the altar, and you were the devil who showed up to snag my twin brother's soul 👉👈 tee hee hee!!1 :3 Soulmate behavior. I'm getting sick to my fucukging stomach just thinking about it oh mgygoddd sedate me >__< (ok not yet i need to finish writing this BUT STILL)

There's just Something about being able to see some of the earliest interactions between Sebastian and Ciel here, to see the stage how it was originally set, that really makes so many of their later interactions that much more fascinating. Like I really cannot emphasize enough how delightful it is to see such an unhinged side to Sebastian from before he was collared and domesticated, back when he was still a liar and a monster and not quite settled into the fact that they were going to be playing the long game. And on the other end, it is wildly impressive seeing Ciel actively in the process of figuring out how to chain Sebastian down-- not falling for the lure of endless power or wealth or whatever other sins Sebastian might like to pull him into, but rather solidifying his first pass at the whole "revenge" idea and figuring out how to limit Sebastian's power so as to better harness it for himself, rather than going the more typical Faustian route of trying to get so much power it immediately bites him in the ass.

One of the most intriguing aspects of some of these flashbacks to me personally is also seeing just how quickly Ciel undergoes his outward personality shift from the shy, sickly, anxious kid that he was as a young boy, stuck back in his role as The Spare, the one stuck inside, to the more sullen and aggressive "Earl Ciel Phantomhive," that we see in the present day. He really does feel like a whole other person after Everything that happens, an amalgamation of intentional changes to try and appear more like his brother to fit his new identity as the confident, capable, outspoken one and the natural shifts that come with his trauma and grief and complete loss of faith, all of which is very much mediated by the new, constant presence of a certain demon butler lurking right over his shoulder.

Similar to EWA, what I further really appreciate about this arc is the way in which it sets up Sebastian as something legitimately dangerous, as one of the biggest, most powerful threats in the series that is absolutely dying to sink his teeth into Ciel. This is easily one of the most openly manipulative Sebastian's we get in the series, really the only time we ever get to see him lie outright to Ciel's face, and it establishes the tension between them perfectly, calling back to their spider couple games in the earliest chapters. Honestly, while it's pretty easy to read both Sebastian and Ciel as the protagonists of KURO, it is also wonderfully easy to read Sebastian as the "true" antagonist and Ciel the primary protagonist-- and ultimately it's the tension between those two sides that keeps the story rolling.

This is also one of the most clearly we hear Ciel speak in reference to the underlying lack of respect that he has for himself, and what I read as his thinly veiled suicidal tendencies. In this arc in particular, Ciel really gives me the vibes of a kind of mundane self-hatred, one that is not necessarily actively self-destructive or even very overt or noticeable to the people around him, but more along the lines of a simple acceptance of himself as something lesser. As is hopefully clear by this point, I really do view Ciel's self-confidence as a key aspect of not only his own individual arc but his relationship with Sebastian and their mutual development as well. It's why the twin reveal is so crucial to understanding who o!Ciel is as a person, imo-- from the very start of our story, o!Ciel has been living under the assumption that he can only ever have power or agency or receive love as his brother, that his own existence is one that can disappear and be swept away without excess grief from the people who remembered him. What his relationship with Sebastian reveals, and really everybody he meets and connects with who isn't attached to his Phantomhive Past, is that this absolutely is NOT the case. For better and for worse, o!Ciel is the one that Sebastian picked-- and, as UT so loves to point out, his life is not replaceable.

sidenote3: Agni. :( Can't let this post go without talking about his passing at least a little, particularly considering all of the parallels between those two couples that I discussed in P1. In particular, it's the parallels between him and Ciel that really gets to me here, and the ways in which we might view his death in conjunction with the sword of Damocles that has been hanging over Ciel's head for this entire series' run... Probably gonna talk about this more in another post on all the master/butler relationships in the series, actually, but the big thing here for me is comparing Soma's reaction to Agni's passing, and specifically Agni dying for Soma, to protect him, to the distinctly more predatory and cannibalistic dynamic that SBCL have going on.

sidenote4: Additionally, after re-watching the ending of S1, I've been struck by the thought that I seriously doubt the ending of the manga will look very much like the ending of either S1 or S2. Like, on a surface level I wouldn't be surprised if there were some similar aesthetic elements or if the greater set-up had echoes of either ending, but I just don't think that a direct recreation of S1's ending would hit the same or even work at all with how the story currently looks. S1 Ciel just feels like such a wildly different person to current-manga Ciel, in his relationships w/ other characters alone if not his underlying core personality. S1 Ciel can drop himself off a bridge, sit quietly on a bench, and let Sebastian easily chow down on his soul. But current manga Ciel? Current manga Sebastian? I don't think it will be nearly as easy, and I'm inclined to keep a sharp eye out for any further developments in Soma's reaction to Agni's passing in particular for the potential parallels it may present to SBCL.

11. BLOOD SPLIT ARC (current): THE FINAL TESTS

This whole section is interesting in that we get another experience of SBCL that feels a LOT like when we took Arthur's POV back in the Manor Murders, only now it happens a couple times in succession with Mey-Rin, Bard, and (a little bit of) Snake's backstories. We are also largely relegated to seeing Sebastian and Ciel purely through these backstories, with very little to no insight into the present-day actions (until very recently, anyway) which is quite different to the kind of masked performance they were doing way back in Murder.

What's fascinating about these depictions to me is just how much Sebastian and Ciel are idolized and practically deified in the eyes of their servants, standing as this image of some kind of unbreakable power couple that certainly gets up to some questionable shit, but is also to a degree untouchable to anybody else. It's actually been somewhat strange for me to see them interacting normally again in the most recent chapters after months and months of seeing them through this lens of the eyes of the people they saved, returning to the usual antics but with the lingering flavor of their mutual overwhelming power still present at the back of my tongue. Since very little time has actually passed in-universe over the last few years there isn't much to sink my teeth into with this section in terms of Insane Developments in their relationship-- instead, I feel left with this distinct thought of just how simultaneously loved and isolated Sebastian and Ciel are together.

Since Sebastian's true nature seems to (miraculously, frankly) still be basically unknown to every other character in the series, save for the shinigami + Arthur + whatever other humans they happen to be terrorizing at any given moment, those two are somewhat uniquely situated in the sense that they are the only ones who really seem to Get what's happening between them. Of course, everybody picks up on the closeness, on the deep bond and apparent trust that is undeniably between the two of them, but the true depths of their codependency and the nature of their contract seems to confine them away from most other characters. Naturally, Undertaker comes closest to figuring it out, but as I think we're likely to see in the upcoming chapters, even he doesn't seem to fully Get It either (or at the very least is biased by his own desires/feelings surrounding the Phantomhives).

SO. Speaking, of... where is all of this going, anyways?

I'm certain there are things that will come out surprise me about this series as we begin descending into the final stretches of this manga's run, but if I had to list my suspicions/thoughts/questions surrounding where I think the story is likely to go, considering everything that has come thus far (and still staying centered on SBCL), it would look something like this:

o!Ciel has still not yet fully dealt with the fundamental insecurity at the center of his psyche: the idea that he is inherently lesser than his brother. As delighted as I am by his adamant refusal to give up the title of "Earl Ciel Phantomhive," there's some deeper shit there that he's still not addressing. This is not at all to say that I think he needs to go back to using his old/birth name or some shit (frankly, it's more of the opposite)-- but if he really is committing to the "Ciel Phantomhive" route, I think he still has a ways to go when it comes to defining that name for himself, to take his power and agency as the Ciel Phantomhive that he wants to be, and not as some dubious stand-in for someone that he thinks better of.

Sebastian has not solidified his commitment to their contract in the same way that Ciel continually has. I feel like this is going to be the most relevant when it comes to whatever shit Mr. Modri Vladis starts digging back up with regards to Sebastian's past-- clearly, there is something Different about this current contract for Sebastian, and I don't think he's fully processed that yet. Personally, I don't really doubt that Sebastian is still perfectly capable of chowing down on Ciel the second his time comes, dude's been blueballing himself out of that meal for literally almost 20 real life years by this point, but how is he actually going to feel about it? Will he hesitate? Will he regret it? He may not have a past in the same way as the humans of this story, but what is his side to all of this? Who is he, if not the Earl Phantomhive's butler?

AAAAAAAAARRAHAURAGHHG YANA-SENSEI PLEASE. PLEASE. I don't even know what I'm begging for at this point. Just Please. Where are these bitches gonna end up, I still feel like I Just Don't Know. I really do think that Ciel is gonna get eaten. But the specifics of how, and why, and when, I'm really not sure I can tell. Regardless, as I said in my little sidenote for the Memory Arc, I really don't think it can be quite so straightforward as it was at the end of S1 by this point-- the connections, the blood, it all runs too deep now. None of this is going to be easy.

We're in the midst of Some Shit now. The story is clearly picking back up, the plot moving forward as we start to near the point where these bloodlines converge, back to the perspective of the two Big Ones. Frankly, I don't think I have any real fuckin' idea where this shit is actually going to end up. But fuck if I'm not excited out of my mind to find out >w<

[bananayuyu]

just friends (10) - sparks on the horizon

pairing: san x f reader

genre: smut, angst, a bit of fluff

word count: 10.7k

warnings: smut, MDNI, oral (f and m receiving), rough sex, facial

a/n: I can't believe I'm here posting the final part y'all. My sappier and longer notes will be at the end as always, if you'd like to read them, but for now, I really hope you enjoy <333 I appreciate all of you endlessly!

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

Two Years + Six Months Later

“Okay, hi everyone, I just wanted to say on behalf of me and Maya, we really appreciate that you all are here to celebrate with us this weekend, and we truly cannot thank you enough.  Each and every one of you has supported us in one way or another throughout our lives, and we wouldn’t be here if weren’t for you all, so thank you from the bottom of our hearts, and I hope you’ve been having a wonderful weekend so far.  Now, let’s eat!”

Tina’s voice was bright and shaky with nerves, the entire rehearsal dinner breaking into applause, before silence fell as they dug into their meals.  The winter air was crisp and chilly and laced with a breeze, your thin sweater doing little to help you.  As you chowed down San noticed your shivering, and took off his hoodie and handed it to you, without saying a word.

“Sannie, you’re gonna freeze,” you pouted, looking at him with eyebrows knit together.

“I’ll go grab another one from the room, I’ll be right back,” he said as he stood, leaving the hoodie in our hands.  You pulled in on swiftly, catching the eye of your dad at the table just behind, and you smiled at him fondly.

You were out in the mountains, out in the small town Maya grew up in, at the motel her parents had owned and operated all her life.  They’d inherited it from her grandfather, who had passed before she’d ever had the chance to meet him; his picture adorned the tiny front office, the black and white portrait hung proudly on the wall.  It was a quaint and well maintained little place, boasting twelve rooms per floor, and two stories.  It had been a no brainer to hold the wedding here; Maya’s parents had insisted the field behind would make for a great venue, and had mowed and trimmed and prepped everything perfectly in preparation for their daughter’s big day.

Though they’d intended a medium sized affair, the wedding ended up being pretty large, more guests needing to stay at another motel down the road, one that thankfully was’t completely booked up for the weekend.  You and San had a room here, right next to Tina and Maya’s; being the maid of honor certainly had it’s perks, and you’d enjoyed the work of organizing you, Sasha, Bibi, and Micah into a perfect set of bridesmaids.  

As a part of the wedding party, you sat at the biggest table for the rehearsal dinner, right next to your best friend, with your handsome plus one by your side.  Micah was there too, as were all the other bridesmaids and groomsmen, many of whom were also girls.  “This has to be the gayest wedding ever,” Maya remarked when all of you had stood in place, a mixture of genders dotting either side.  You could’t have thought of a better group to be with; there was no drama, no fighting, just plenty of laughter and joy and excitement.

The rehearsal had gone well, much to everyone’s relief.  Things felt rushed and chaotic in the lead up to this weekend, but you figured that was always the case with weddings; it wasn’t like life could be paused, and fitting in all the extra work between other responsibilities was difficult.  Thankfully Maya’s parents could be relied upon for so much, and the place was perfect, food delicious, and venue set just right.

As the sun set, bathing the small field in orange and purple light, yawns were abound.

“Sweetie, we’re going to head back to our room now,” your mother said, her hand on your shoulder.  Your parents were staying at the other motel, just minutes down the road.

“Did you enjoy the sopes?” you asked, smiling as you rose out of your seat to give her a hug.

“So delicious, I haven’t had one in too long,” she sighed, licking her lips.

“Those beans are so good, huh?”

“Full of the good stuff, lard,” she added, and you both chuckled as you separated.  Your twin got up too to give hugs of goodbye, and you made your way towards your Dad, his back hunched in his wheelchair as he keenly observed the scene around him.

“How are you doing Dad?” you asked as you approached, leaning down to give him a hug.  His body was so stiff nowadays, it didn’t feel anything like it used to; hugging him was it’s own sort of sensation now, stilted but still so important to you.

“Good, fine,” he answered as he always did, your question really just a way of showing him you cared, even if you knew you’d never get an honest answer.

“Are you excited for tomorrow?”

“Oh yes, should be fun,” he lightly smiled, as much as the muscles of his face still let him.

“A little birdie told me the cake is going to be chocolate, so you’re in luck,” you smiled deviously, now grabbing onto his hand, letting it shake in yours.

“Ah, my favorite,” he said, attempting a chuckle.

“Okay dear, are you ready to head out?” your mom called as she walked your way, Micah in tow.

“Sure,” your Dad answered, letting you place his hand onto his lap gently.  “Oh, you tell San if he wants my old RPGs, they’re his.  I can send them with you next time you come visit.”

“Oh Dad, that’s really nice of you,” you answered, eyebrows turned up in admiration.  Now you knew what they’d been talking about earlier when the tables had first been set, and your dad called San over to ask him something while the rest of you fretted over tomorrow’s plans.

“Well, I can’t make use of them anymore,” he joked, again trying to smile.  “And neither of you two will use them, will you?”

“We somehow did not inherit the video game gene, unfortunately,” Micah responded.

“Probably for the best,” your Mom added, rifling through her purse to check for something before zipping it closed.  “Okay, goodnight everyone, we’ll see you tomorrow.”

You all wished them a goodnight too, before Micah started yawning as well, retiring to her room three doors down from yours after giving you a big hug.  She’d taken on extra shifts this week, now that she was finally working days and could handle it, but the adjustment was a challenge in and of itself.  Soon the whole field started clearing out, quite a few of Maya’s cousins and other family helping to clean up the area and ready the tables for the next day’s festivities, and you joined in for a moment, following their lead and helping where you could.

San sat lounging in his chair, even as everyone else bustled about and started to leave; being here was causing many thoughts to flood him, and there was relief in just letting them swirl in his head and eat at him.  It was the first time he’d seen your family again in all these years; he wasn’t sure what you’d told them, only knew that your mom was as overbearing with her praise as ever, and that your Dad seemed to genuinely respect him and appreciate his company.  Micah seemed pleased too, in her own way, that he was back.  He had no idea that it really was the difference in you that Micah was responding to, knowing that he’d caused it, that even though it had been so painful at the time, his departure from your life had been the catalyst for so much good.

You and your twin had been through change after change this past year, and though it could have been so easy to slowly grow apart and stop really talking, you didn’t let that happen.  When you visited your parents now you stayed with her in her apartment; she’d had one for years, but for some reason you’d both still stayed at your parent’s house in the living room when you came to the city.

It was habitual, and comfortable in a way, but not staying there anymore was one of those important boundaries you’d set; it allowed you both time with each other, time to process and deal with whatever new changes you were seeing.  Your Dad was only getting sicker, and your Mom was clearly struggling to cope with it; she wasn’t her best self in many ways, and you both knew that, as disappointing as it was.  You had much more capacity for understanding it now, and understanding Micah’s tempers too, knowing that she was the main person your mother relied upon, which wasn’t really fair.

You’d finally encouraged Micah to stand her own ground, and the relief of not always being the person your mother called when in crisis had helped her life improve immensely.  It was one of those patterns that had been established so long ago that she hardly could imagine a life without it.  But now that your mom had started going to therapy herself, and had a hospice team helping here and there with your Dad as needed, she didn’t need to rely on Micah so much.  It was a huge weight lifted, and for the first time in a while it seemed like your twin was living her life for herself.  Even she was finally dating again, and hanging out with a coworker she’d been friends with for years but never had the time to see on days off.

All of these changes showed in the body language of your family; everyone could tell that things were better, not just San, and no one needed a real explanation for it.  The hugs between you and Micah were longer and warmer, the look on your face when you gazed at your parents so much more caring.  It had taken losing San, of all things, for you to turn your life around, and that in and of itself could feel embarrassing; therapy had taught you not to think that way, though, to instead be simply thankful that you were spending your life in a better way now.

Parents.  Family.  It had always been a tough subject for you, one you dreaded talking about, one you avoided at all costs.  It was difficult to explain the true nature of just how severely your childhood had affected you; you’d never been without, always had food and shelter and the tools you needed, so it seemed strange to you that you’d always felt so uneasy.  You’d never had a lot, but you knew no one needed a lot to be happy; many of those with more money than you could dream of were miserable anyway, and some of the happiest people you knew were people who got by with very little.

What you didn’t understand back then was that without truly knowing yourself, you’d never be happy.  It didn’t matter what you had, what you’d accomplished, if you got the money or success or book deal of your dreams; none of it could make you happy if you didn’t dig down deep and rip open the part of you that always wanted to stay perfectly hidden.  The ugly underbelly of your heart was where the truth lied, buried underneath a myriad of complicated feelings: guilt and shame, panic, pain, self-importance, dissatisfaction, frustration, anger, fear.  It was what all kids take on when they’re young; the lie of life is to think that children are innocent, that they don’t understand the horrors happening around them.

You understood perfectly well.  Your Dad was sick at an age everyone thought was too young; your mom was forced to take care of an ailing husband far sooner than anyone thought she deserved; you and Micah had to raise yourselves, take care of your own feelings, not bother either of your parents with a single problem, because they truly didn’t have the time for you.

You’d both dealt with this differently; there was overlap in how closed off you were, but while Micah had taken a pragmatic and almost robotic approach to her life plans, you had fallen deep into the world of all things creative, needing the stories and songs and art to cope with the stresses you constantly felt.  You’d long regretted this, wished you could take yourself back to childhood and somehow reset your path to be just like your twin’s; there was plenty of cultural messaging to support that thought, but it wasn’t helpful, it wasn’t useful, and it wasn’t right.

Honest, that’s what you had to be.  With yourself, and with others, if you ever wanted to be happy.

“You feeling okay?” you asked San as you walked back to the table, still lounging comfortably in his fold-out chair.

“Yeah, just enjoying the breeze,” he sighed, looking around as you pulled out the chair next to him and sat down.  “You all finished cleaning up already?”

“Yeah, everyone’s heading inside,” you answered, wrapping yourself into a ball to fend off the chill in the air.

“You feeling okay?  Are you cold?”

“Yeah, a little,” you chuckled, sucking in a breath through clenched teeth.

“Wanna get up and walk for a moment?”

“Okay.”

You both slid out easily, San pushing in your chairs before you had the chance to yourself.  The field was nearly cleared out completely; each table was blank but a small vase in the middle, every chair pushed in, not a soul in close range.  The only people still visible were Tina and Maya, who had walked back to the small arch her mother had set up, decorated with an assortment of flowers she found in the trees behind the motel.  They were desert mountain flowers, not particularly bright or vibrant, but gorgeous in their simplicity, in the knowledge of how much they endured and how beautifully they still stood.

They held such meaning to you, seemed a perfect addition to the occasion; you were so excited for your best friend to get married beneath that beautiful little archway, her father-in-law  officiating the wedding.  Tina and Maya stood there talking a mile a minute, hands clasped together, smiles bright, barely visible in the waning sunset.

“How did Antin seem Wednesday at rehearsal?” San asked as you started moving, taking the little path that followed the perimeter of the field, walking past the lines of chairs set out for the next day’s ceremony.

“He seemed fine, why do you ask?”

“I just worry about him, I know he texted me that things are going well but I also know he gets really nervous and doesn’t want to show it,” he said, sighing slightly.

“He’s doing fine, I don’t think you need to worry about him,” you answered, hoping your words were reassuring.  “It’s always a tough thing to adjust to, a new directer.  If you think about it, it’s almost like getting an entirely new boss every few months.  Or having multiple at once, that are all asking different things from you.  It’s a lot to adjust to I think, honestly, I’m kind of thankful I’m not an actor.  It looks fun up on stage but it’s a bizarre world behind the scenes.”  

You knew the honesty might not be completely comforting, but you also felt this sense with him that withholding any thoughts was a bad idea.  As much as San wanted to protect Antin’s feelings, you wanted to protect San’s, but you knew that wasn’t how this worked.  You had to all trust each other, to believe that no matter what occurred, you would all be okay.

“I don’t know if he can handle harsh critiques, even if he says he can,” San added.

“He’s not getting harsh critiques, only copious amounts of praise.  Seriously, the director loves him, and I love him, he’s doing really well.  It’s just a hard play, the cast is so fucking huge.”  You’d neared the end of the field and turned the corner, now walking behind the entire set up for the wedding, your two friends still standing together under the little archway.  Your eyes flashed to them but you forced them away, not wanting to stare at what probably was a very special moment.  The last night they’d be simply fiancees, simply awaiting their inevitable union; your head shook involuntarily as you tried to process the change about to come, but you couldn’t.

“I just want everything to work out so that he can stay.”  The sentence left San’s lips with such weight that you stopped, placing a hand on his arm to stop him too.  The touch was such a surprise that he paused jerkily, looking to you.

“Sorry,” you said quickly, pulling it away.  “I just-“

“It’s okay,” he said, eyes softening, stepping closer to you again.

“I just wanted to comfort you, I can tell you’re worried about your friend, but we haven’t made any plans to change our agreement…”  Your eyes flicked over his entire body before moving to the trees behind him, knowing you’d need to broach this conversation now, because you were having this feeling now.

“What are you thinking about?” 

“I want to be able to hug you,” you replied, words whooshing out of you with satisfying relief.

“Then come here,” he said, stepping forward and wrapping his arms around you, pulling you into the first hug you’d shared in months.  His warm body was a welcome comfort against the chilly air; you melted into him, wrapping your arms around his waist, not squeezing but simply letting your body rest within his.

“I’m sorry that it’s still up in the air whether Antin can stay or not,” you said, rubbing your head against his chest subtly.

“It’s okay, it is what it is,” he answered, but the sigh that wracked through him was deep enough to shake his entire torso, and you could feel it all the way down to his gut.

“It’s not okay, you should always be able to live near your best friend,” you answered.  “Obviously that’s not how life works, but it’s valid if that’s upsetting to you.”

“It is upsetting.”  Gentle silence hung, but you knew it was a challenge for him to be this vulnerable, and you wanted to say something that would neither embarrass nor discourage him.

“It is,” you finally answered, parroting him.  “But you’ll be okay even if he has to move again.  You were okay before.  And you should enjoy the time you have with him now, and not worry about him so much.  He’s an adult, he can take care of himself.”

“But I want to make sure he’s here if I can,” San sighed.

“That’s not something you can control.”

“I wish it was,” he added, too quickly.

“I know Sannie, you wish you could control everything,” you chuckled softly, trying to ease the tension of his previous statement.

“For everyone’s benefit, not for some selfish gain,” he responded, sucking in a breath.

“I know, but it’s still not how life works.”

“I know, baby.”

That nickname had never left, not even as you’d put a moratorium on physical touch; you’d always be that to him, there was no getting away from it.  And as sweet as he meant it, as wholesome and kind as he was being, it always stoked something fiery within you. You giggled as he said it, at the word and also at his tone.  Therapy had turned you into quite the advice giver, and though you sometimes worried you were overbearing, for the most part your friends and family appreciated the wisdom you shared.  But San’s use of that word made it clear he was done with the serious conversation for now.

“Control is only okay in one context,” he laughed, and you shook your head and laughed with him, poking him slightly in the ribs.

“Don’t talk about that right now,” you pouted, the heat between you growing with a fierce speed, just at the mention of something suggestive.

“Why not?” he chuckled lowly, knowing exactly what was happening to you.  Though he respected your boundaries, he couldn’t help how fun it was to mess with you; the crinkle of your eyes as you fought your smiles, the warmth that radiated off you as you got lost in the feelings and fun, and forgot the heaviness of your worries.  When you laughed San found you grew wings, like you were flying on wind he was sending your way.

“Sannie,” you pouted again, laughing as you pushed away from him gently, hardly strong enough to actually put any distance between you.

“Sorry, I just like hearing you laugh,” he chuckled, loosening his grip, but not completely letting go.  Your left hand found a home against his his torso, able to feel the hard plane of it even through the layers of clothing.  His hoodie and sweats hung off of him comfortably, but there was nothing wholesome about the way your touch was making him feel; a simple hug didn’t need to feel so complicated, but it did when so much time had passed, when physical space had stood between you for so long.

It had allowed the mental walls to come down, just as you both needed.  

As you peered over your shoulder again you saw your two friends hadn’t moved from their spot, but Maya was now down on one knee as if she was proposing again, and Tina stood laughing and covering her face, tears surely forming in her eyes.  San’s gaze followed yours, Tina’s laughter carrying through the quiet night air.  It was so strange to feel such desire when witnessing something you’d never wanted; you’d had some level of confusion about this since the two got engaged, not sure why you were so damn excited if marriage was something you’d never really believed in.

In that moment, held in San’s arms and held by the guarantee that he’d always be honest with you, you finally understood.  They both had always wanted this, had wished to share this promise with someone special and share that someone special with their friends and family alike.  There was beauty in companionship that was so aligned in it’s goals, and that was what you envied slightly, what you truly wanted for yourself.

“Are you sure you’ll be okay if we never do that?” you asked San, watching as Maya stood up and captured Tina’s lips in a kiss, one that started sweet but grew deeper, more passionate, their hands grasping at each other’s faces before they fell into a tight hug.

“Yes, I’m sure, we’ve been over this,” San answered you, turning the two of you away to leave them their privacy, neither of you sure if they even knew you were here.

“But if your mind changes in the future, will you feel like you’ve wasted your time with me?” you added, staring into the blankness of the forest, holding onto him more tightly again.

“Who’s to say it won’t be you who changes your mind?”

“I guess that’s possible,” you sighed.  “But I just really don’t see it happening.”

“And either way, I won’t care,” he said, setting his head on top of yours and squeezing his arms around you.

“You’re sure, Sannie?”

“Yes I’m sure, it does’t matter to me now.  Life is too short, and marriage is not some end goal necessary for happiness, even if some people think it is.  I know that isn’t true.  I know I was quite slow in learning that lesson, but I finally have.”  The deep breath he let out made his whole body shudder, his voice low and grumbly in a way that was making your mind a bit fuzzy.  The words felt too good to be true, too; he was right, this conversation had happened several times over, your friend’s engagement making the subject front and center in your mind at almost all times.

“You don’t believe me still?” he asked, your thoughtful silence lasting longer than you realized.

“No, I do, it’s just…” you couldn’t find the words, there were too many you wished to condense into one succinct sentence, but you couldn’t find a way.  

“All I want is you, in whatever way I can have you,” he sighed, squeezing even tighter.  “I’m never fucking letting you go.”

“Sannie,” you giggled, face getting crushed under his bicep, your breathing cut off.

“Unless things are bad again between us, then we both need to step away,” he continued, the rational side of his brain kicking in.  “I really just want us both to be happy.”

“Me too,” you sighed, wriggling to get more comfortable in his grasp, your body finding this prolonged proximity intoxicating, so easy to fall back into his chest and arms and every inch of him.  “Sannie?”

“Hm?”

“I’m tired of our little boundary,” you sighed.

“You like hugging me again that much?” he joked.

“I do, don’t make fun,” you whined, craning your head up to look him in the eye.

“I do too,” he whispered, dropping any hint of humor from his tone, just smiling at you sweetly with those deep dimples, his eyes heavy even if he tried to keep them open.

“Can we say no more to the no touching rule?  It’s been like what, six months?  I think we’re in a spot now that we can handle it,” you sighed.

“You want to remove the rule completely?”

“Yes, completely,” you nodded, taking in a deep breath and looking at him with wide, sure eyes.

“Completely?” he asked again, fixing you with a similar gaze.  Though it was a genuine question, the implication of it made you break into a small giggle, looking away from him for a moment, your neck craning to the right.

“Yes,” you said once you’d recovered, looking back up to him with a wishful gaze.  It wasn’t long until he was moving into you more, his arms locking around your waist more sturdily, his gaze sharper and heavier than you had seen it in all these months since you started seeing him again.  He was moving slowly and with care, observing your reactions to him, making sure that your words were true, that you really wanted this.  It was clear in your body’s reaction, frankly had been clear for months now that you’d really wanted this, but were holding back for your own good, and for the sake of him too.  It had been a long time; six months was a crazy length to date someone without ever kissing, ever touching beyond a few hugs, especially when you'd already fucked countless times and knew just how good it always was.

His lips met yours with heat, and immediately the months of prolonged waiting and wishing were made completely worth it; he was soft and gentle against you at first, taking his time opening you up, the way he’d always liked to do.  He coaxed his lips along your’s gently, pulling back slightly to tell you to start parting your’s, using the soft brush of his tongue along your bottom lip to help you open even further.  His tongue on yours again sent immediate ripples of pleasure straight through you, landing in your core and stoking that fire that had been waiting to be set free for too long.

Your hands snaked under his hoodie and shirt as you let him devour you as he wanted to; he was heftier than he’d been before, the years apart spent in the gym working on himself, taking care of himself in the best way he could.  It was hard for you to comprehend the thicker layers of muscle you found; you’d seen it through shirts he’d worn in the summer but hadn’t touched it yet, didn’t understand how tough and sturdy it felt, yet all warm and inviting and comforting too.  San was tipping his head to the side, careful to avoid your glasses still balanced precariously on your nose; you hadn’t had the chance to kiss with them on yet, didn’t realize the ways you’d need to maneuver around them.  You reached a hand up to pull them off, holding them off to the side as you kissed him again, worried at any moment you might drop them and loose them in the darkness of the evening.

San could feel the tension enter your body in an instant; his own hands had started snaking under your hoodie and holding your back, feeling the muscles of your shoulder flexing hard as you held onto your glasses for dear life.

“Baby,” he huffed as he pulled back, breaking the kiss.  “Let’s go set those down inside.  In our room.”  He chuckled at the pout on your face, your body feeling like it was missing what it needed now that you weren’t so intensely connected.

“Sannie, I need you,” you whimpered, holding onto his arm for dear life as he started moving.  The need pooling between your legs was overwhelming to a point that your rational thoughts had left you, even if you were worried about your precious glasses too.  It had been an agonizing wait, and the relief that awaited you dangled in front of your nose, egging your body along in it’s growing arousal and neediness.

“You have me, I’m right here,” he huffed, grabbing the glasses out of your hand and folding them closed, holding them with the utmost care as you clung to his other arm.  “Come on, we have a bed in there, we can actually…”

You whined instead of completing his sentence, your mind flying with images of what was to come.

“Stop leaning on me like that,” he continued, his left shoulder working overtime to carry your weight along with him, as he made his way back towards the building.  “Come on, let me carry you.”

You whined in response, still clearly so deep into a lustful headspace that you couldn’t respond with words.

“Baby don’t leave me right now, come back to me,” he said, turning to face you and prop his free hand on the side of your face, so you had no choice but to look at him.

“I’m sorry, I’m here,” you pouted, sighing and coming back into the moment slowly.

“No leaving me tonight, I don’t want you doing that unless we’ve agreed, you know, we’re doing that…”  He trailed off with a soft smile and you were sure in the light of day you would have seen his cheeks flush.

“Yes, San,” you answered, head tilting down in slight embarrassment, but your eyes rose to meet his and you gazed through the top of your lashes longingly.

“Don’t look at me like th- you know what, just-“  He cut himself off by stepping towards you, leaning down to put his left shoulder against your hips and hoist you over his shoulder entirely.

“San!” you called out, giggling as you rag-dolled over him, his left hand holding onto your legs for balance and right hand gingerly carrying your glasses still.

“Have a good night!” San called to your friends as he passed by them, making quick work of the small path.

“You too!” Tina called back laughing, and you raised your head awkwardly to stick your tongue out at her, making her laugh more.  Distracted by the image of them you hadn’t noticed it, but as soon as you turned the corner and were walking down the concrete path that lined the front doors of the motel rooms, San’s hand against the back of your thigh was all you could think about.

It was so close to where you needed him, you were almost worried he’d start to feel how wet you’d become from that kiss by the woods.  As he came to your room he handed you the glasses back, reaching into his pocket for the key.  You had to work at concentrating enough not to drop them; you didn’t realize how thoroughly your body was buzzing with need when your brain had dropped so far, but now it was impossible to ignore.  Once inside he grabbed the glasses back from you without setting you down, placing them safely on the table in the corner before making for the bed, finally tossing you down on it and staring at you with labored breaths.

You were finally here again, watching him rip off his hoodie with so little effort, his t-shirt riding up and exposing the strongly muscled plane of his stomach.  As soon as his was off he was pulling at your’s too, and you were pulling at his shirt, and the two of you were a mess of arms and legs and giggles, your hoodie getting stuck on your hair and making you yelp.

“Sorry, your hair is so much longer now,” San laughed, pulling back to help you untangle yourself gently and without pain.

“So is yours,” you huffed in response, grabbing onto it once your hoodie was off and giving it a slight tug.

“You like it?” 

“Yeah, it looks really good,” you smiled, pulling him into a kiss and wrapping your legs around his waist, his hips coming flush with yours.  “You should get an undercut, it would look so cool.”

“Yeah?”  He rolled his hips into yours as he said it, placing his mouth on your neck and kissing there, hard.

“Yeah,” you moaned, making him chuckle into your skin, moving up your neck further until he was at your ear, winding his tongue around the small ring that sat in your lobe.  It only made you moan louder, the feeling going straight to your head; it was going to be hard to stay as present as he wanted you, when all your body wanted to do was completely let go and give in.  But you understood why he’d said it, and now that he had you wouldn’t disobey; it had been so long since you’d done this, and he needed to know that you wanted it, that you weren’t lying, that this was a decision made of sound body and sound mind.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous,” he said as he pulled back and got a good look at you, using the opportunity to begin pulling at your little sweater and tugging it off.  There was nothing underneath, he had noticed it all day and fought with himself not to stare.  It had been like this all these months; you still often went without them, and still wore so many of the articles of clothing he remembered ripping off of you.  It had truly been a test of his will, and he honestly couldn’t be more proud of how well he’d resisted his urges.

Many nights had been spent with his cock in his hand, but it had been enough.  It had been enough, then.

“Fuck, I missed this,” he sighed as he flicked his tongue around your right nipple, and it pebbled immediately under his touch, his lips moving to suck gently.  You threw your head back in pleasure, forgetting just how good this felt and how well his body knew yours.  His mouth was like a ballerina, trained and precise in it’s movements, never faltering once; he moved to your other nipple swiftly, and that one hardened too, your legs and arms clasping him harder.

“Sannie,” you whined, not sure why you did.

“What baby?” he asked, pulling off of you to kiss down your chest and tummy further, moving his hands to the waist of your shorts and starting to pull.  You mumbled in response but it was unclear, your brain fighting with you.  “What is it, talk to me.”

“I can’t, I-“  You cut yourself off with a sharp breath, one that made San stop himself.

“Something’s wrong,” he said, not a hint of a question in his tone.

“No, no,” you sighed, holding onto his head, pulling yourself up to be more normally seated.

“Yes,” he replied, knowing.

“I just can’t stay… here…”  You gestured around, hand swirling to refer to the room; your breathing was already ragged somehow, and you could feel your pulse in your fingers and toes.

“What can I do?”

“Just, talk to me, I don’t know, just don’t shut up,” you mumbled, head braced against his shoulder, needing shooting through you so severely you could feel the comforter growing wet beneath you.

“Is it hard to believe this is actually happening?” he asked.

“Mmhm,” you nodded against him.

“Come here, look at me,” he said, taking your head in his hands and holding your gazes level. “I feel that way too, but it is, we’re here, we’re doing this.”  You just nodded with a slight pout, your eyes so glazed and cheeks so flushed that San thought he might come on the spot.  “You sure you’re ready for this?”

“I need it,” you cried, the words coming out ragged.

“Then you’ll have it baby, whatever you want.  Tell me what you want.”

“Your cock,” you mumbled, reaching forward to pull at San’s own shorts.  He laughed hard in response, but helped you tug them down, stepping onto the floor again to reveal himself entirely.  You salivated immediately, stumbling forward to drop to your knees, your shorts still awkwardly holding your thighs together and your back slumping against the side of the bed. 

“Baby, come on,” he said, lifting you up a moment to help you pull your shorts off, and now you were naked like him and completely exposed, the first time in months, the first time in years, and you were both older and thicker and stronger, and it made the room feel heavy with heat.

“I wanna taste you,” you pouted, dropping to your knees again as soon as you had the chance.

“Come here then,” he said, holding the back of your head gently, snaking his hand trough your hair.  He moved his aching, leaking cock in front of your face, waiting for your lips to open to push it towards you further.  You immediately grabbed the base of his shaft with one hand, licking the underside of his tip while looking up, needing to see the reaction.  His cheeks were flushed like yours but his eyes were sharper, and from below the giant mass of his shoulders was almost too much to bear.  He hissed when you finally made contact, face scrunching in pleasure, the hand on your head steady but not pushing.

There was a reverent quality to what you were doing; you weren’t sure where it had come from, this desire to suck him off, you’d never really done this much and never really liked to, but the need had come over you and nothing felt better than kneeling here in front of him and taking all of his thick length that you could.  He felt bigger than you remembered; these past years you’d been certain you had always overblown his size, that it was the inaccuracy of memory that gave you the impression that he was unbelievably large.  You’d often giggled to yourself at night, both desire and pain squeezing your heart, touching yourself in nostalgia for what had been.  But here in front of him you knew your memories had not lied; it seemed like he’d gotten even bigger, that every part of him had.

“You wanna be good for me tonight?” he asked, softly brushing hair out of your face as you kept working yourself up and down on him, covering his entire length in a thick trail of spit.  You nodded at his question, eyes flashing open to meet his again, before they shut as you gagged on him fully.  “Fuck,” he groaned under his breath, involuntarily.  “I want you to be good for me too baby, do what I say.”

“Yes, San,” you answered him, popping off for a moment.

“Good girl,” he replied, a scene starting to unfold, but one that wasn’t laced with a dark intense control, just a subtle one.  It was the only way you’d stay present as he wanted, he realized that moments ago when you whined in frustration; he certainly didn’t mind it, if it meant he got what he wanted, got to have you here and present and looking in his eyes as he made you feel good.

With a gentle nudge he pulled your head back towards him, and you took him down your throat as far as you could, bobbing on him while staring up, tears and droll starting to fall down your face as you tried desperately to breath through your nose.  The look on his face, equal parts loving and lustful, was so enthralling it egged you on further; no one had ever looked at you like that, and no one else ever would, you were sure of it.

“Fuck, baby, stop for me,” he sighed, holding onto your head as he pulled out, breath hitching when you sucked hard on his tip one final time.  “I’m gonna cum all over your face if you keep doing that.”  You giggled and stared up with a bright smile, your eyes heavy.  “Maybe you want that,” he chuckled, and you nodded, still smiling.  “Okay, you will get what you want, but first I get what I want.”

You nodded and stood, his hands holding under your arms to help you.  He was quick to capture you in a kiss again, a deep one with his tongue in your mouth, like he was staking his claim on it.  One hand was around your back and one was behind your head, holding you to him as you arched back a bit, the ease of the movement making it clear just how much stronger he’d gotten.  Your head went fuzzy again at the thought, and you ran your hands over his chest and arms to feel the taught muscle, then ran them down along his abs and felt the clear lines between them all.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” he asked, unbelievably cocky for him, and your head spun.

“Yeah, you’ve gotten so big,” you sighed, his lips back on yours in a second, a dark chuckle escaping the back of his throat.  It was about the best thing he could hear, making his cock twitch against your leg, your bodies involuntarily bucking against each other, finding any bit of pleasure they could.

“And you’ve gotten so fucking curvy, fuck,” he sighed, landing a smack against your ass, making you yelp and jump into him.  He laughed, turning you around and bending you over the bed, pushing you forward so you were forced to crawl on to all fours, your ass sticking high in the air in front of him.  He kneeled down and licked a long, slow stripe up your slit, reveling in the taste and groaning into you, the vibration echoing through your core.

“You taste so fucking good baby,” he sighed, dipping in for more, sucking hard on your clit and making you yelp again, chuckling lowly at it.  It was a rush of power to be doing this again, for the wall to finally be down and your body free to be used, to be touched, to be tortured.  He didn’t want to do that tonight, not yet, he wanted this to be sweet and wholesome and full of emotion, but you two just never seemed to be able to achieve that; you were too freaky for that, not intentionally but inherently, and it always came out in these moments no matter what San thought he’d be able to avoid.

With swift circles around your clit he had you moaning in seconds, your hips pushing into his face to chase further pleasure.  His nose was pushing into your entrance and had you whimpering at that possibility of being filled completely, that way that only he ever had, that way that you cousin’t achieve yourself no matter how hard you tried.  The angle was just never right, and nothing felt hot and heavy inside you the way his cock did; you salivated at the thought as he sucked harder, your clit so alight in pleasure you almost blacked out, your moans turning pathetic and loud.

“Fuck baby I gotta fuck you,” San groaned at the sound, so turned on and so hard he felt like was going to explode.  He could hold out for a long time, something he had always been quite proud of, but sometimes in moments with you he was so overcome that he couldn’t; he really didn’t want that to be today, not when this was the first time in so long that you finally were letting him in like this.  But even if he wanted to make you cum enough times that you lost count, he also was so hard he couldn’t stop himself, needing his own pleasure too, needing to feel you squeezing down around him.  He pulled back from your pussy with a pop, lining himself up quick and thrusting in hard, your arms falling out beneath you as your shoulders hit the bed.

“You feel so fucking good, fuck,” he groaned again, and you whined and mewled and went completely incoherent at it, the rough tone making you feel like prey, like you were his and only his, like you’d forced him to hold back from this pleasure he deserved for too long.  Now he was taking it and making you pay, the thrusts so strong they were both pleasing and painful, but you loved it more than anything and needed it harder even, wanted him to pound into you as hard as he possibly could.

“Harder, harder,” you managed to squeak out, mouth muffled against the comforter, as you tried not to completely scream your head off and make everyone in the motel aware of your current position.

“Harder?  Are you sure baby?” San asked above you.

“Please, please,” you whined, arching further, looking back at him with tear-stained eyes full of want.

“Fuck, my crazy girl,” he sighed, gripping your hips to snap harder, hitting a spot so deep and perfect that with seconds you were coming undone, squeezing down on him as your thighs shook uncontrollably.  “Baby, baby, fuck, ahh, you’re squeezing me so hard,” San hissed through gritted teeth, maintaining his pace and the pleasure he was getting from it.  He didn’t let up until he could tell the aftershocks were hitting you; he pulled out quickly, flipped you over, and fell into your arms, locking you in a deep kiss before pulling back to find your cunt again.

“Need to see your beautiful face,” he groaned as he pushed back in, so close himself, using every bit of strength not to cum just yet.  He threw your legs over his shoulders and held onto them tight, loving how your face twisted up and your mouth went agape with all the pleasure you were feeling.  “You like that baby?” he asked after another sharp snap of his hips, your legs starting to shake again, your body buzzing.

“Yes Sannie, yes,” you mumbled, holding onto him, grabbing for any bit of skin you could find.  “I’m gonna cum again,” you cried, eyes squeezed shut, cunt so sensitive that you felt like you hadn’t even come down from your last orgasm before this one started blooming.  Waves of pleasure washed over you; you had no recollection of feeling this way in your life, something about it was so deep and intense that you wanted to scream, and San could sense it in a heartbeat and put a hand over your mouth as you came around him again, your entire body convulsing.

“Breathe baby, breathe,” he said as he helped you through it, releasing his hand and stroking it down your cheek comfortingly, even as he continued to thrust hard.  “You still want me to cum on your face?”

“Please,” you managed, opening your eyes enough to pout at him directly.  Your body was spent but your mind still desired the sensation of it, and you found yourself pushing up and stumbling to the ground even as the muscles of your legs still shock and spasmed.

“Fuck, baby, careful,” San said, his cock popping out of you with a loud squelch and ripping the orgasm about to wash over him away.  But he knew with just a few more strokes he’d be done for; this whole turn of events had been overwhelming in the best way, his nerves on fire, his body feeling super charged.  He helped you to your knees gently and then stood up above you, starting to stroke his red and leaking cock, holding it just inches from your face.  Your tongue lolled out of your mouth at the sight, and you managed to reach forward and actually lick him, right as his orgasm hit and the ropes of cum starting pouring out, painting your tongue completely, and your cheeks and nose and forehead too.

“Holy fuck, shit baby, ah,” San groaned above you, his eyebrows pulled together in an almost pained look, the ecstasy he was feeling so severe it was almost blinding.  In the years you had been together he’d only done this a handful of times, and though there were so many ways he loved to cum when he was with you, something about the slightly degrading nature of it in this moment felt so perfectly representative of everything that had changed.

You sat staring up at him, breathing deep once you’d swallowed what you could, wiping more of him from your cheek and licking your finger clean.  San’s muscled chest heaved up and down as he tried to steady himself, his legs feeling weak and shaky now, causing him to sink to the ground too.  He brushed a hair out of your face that was stuck to your lips, chuckling at the dirty image in front of him, and the pleased look on your face.

“You like that?” he asked, finally, the moment stretching in a perfectly comfortable way.

“Mmhm,” you chuckled, scooting over to him and climbing on his lap, peppering wet sticky kisses all over every bit of his body you could reach.  His hold of you was strong and firm and indicated all of the intense feelings he was having; you were his again, in every way now, and though it had been kind of rough and far from wholesome, his heart was swelling with love at the thought of what you’d just done.

The trust was there now, for both of you; there was no further need for the strict boundary, because everything that needed to be said had been spoken, and seemingly every problem had been resolved.  He knew that nothing was ever perfect, and there was sure to be issues in the future, confusion or disagreements to resolve.  But now he was positive that between you the skills existed, that words could resolve every issue, that no longer would you get buried in each other and so codependent, using sex as a distraction to cover any bit of uncomfortable emotion.

It was different, this time; he felt it as you both cuddled in bed, as you showered together in comfortable silence, as you spoke softly of the day to come as the night wound to a close.  Sex between you now was all about connection, and for the first time in his life he understood why some people spoke of kinky acts with such reverence; to be so deeply entrusted to someone that you let them throw you around, hurt you, take control of you body entirely, was a remarkable thing, something only achieved through the upmost emotional maturity.  

Now, that maturity existed between you.  Everything else in life could ride on it, could thrive on it, and he no longer had to worry at all.

“Good morning sweet pea!” you called through the half-opened door, Maya’s mound of curly hair just visible, hanging off the corner of the bed.

“Too early,” Tina groaned as you entered their room, ten on the dot, the time you’d agreed upon.  Maya laughed, pushing the covers off of herself and sitting up, yawning deeply as she stretched.

“You two up late last night?” you asked her, closing the door quietly and walking towards them.  Maya just nodded, her smirk letting you know all you needed to.  They’d always been like this and you expected nothing less; you were certain tonight would be hours of fucking if all went to plan today.

“Baby, you told her to come this early, come on,” Maya sighed, but her tone was sweet and she smiled brightly as she rolled over to her soon to be wife, running a hand through her hair softly.

“This is not the day to sleep in and be late to your plans Ti,” you added, chuckling.

“I know, just give me a fucking second,” she mumbled, pulling her pillow over her head.  You and Maya erupted in laughter; how funny it was that even on this big day Tina was struggling to stay on schedule, her old habits dying hard.

“I brought you coffee,” you offered.

“Oh thank fucking god,” she sighed, finally pushing herself up, sticking out a hand before even opening her eyes.  Maya pushed up too and gave her a hug and kiss, before standing and grabbing her phone and keys.

“Well I’ll be off, see you in a few hours,” she said, giving you a hug too, then leaving.  This morning they’d agreed to be as separate as possible, wanting to be surprised by whatever the other was wearing.  You couldn’t wait to see their faces and inevitable tears of joy; you knew you’d be joining in on the waterworks, you’d warned everyone already and had water-proof mascara along for that very reason.

“You ready for today Ti?” you asked once it was just you two, sitting on the bed in front of her, watching her hungrily sip at the warm drink in her hands.

“I think so,” she chuckled, sighing.

“You nervous?”

“Well, yeah,” she mumbled.

“Why?”

“I don’t know, I just am.  There’s been so much buildup, so much shit going on, if something goes wrong it’ll feel like all that work was for nothing,” she said, lips turning down slightly in a pout.

“I will make sure nothing goes wrong, that’s why I’m here babe,” you smiled, grabbing her hands and pulling them into her lap.  “You just focus on having fun today and enjoying yourself.”

“Okay, I’ll try my best,” she answered, a small smile forming on her lips.

It was only thirty minutes later that the rest of the bridesmaids arrived; Sasha and Bibi brought her dress, carefully carrying it between them in a huge black garment bag.  Sasha’s huge makeup bag was slung over one of her shoulders, and you quickly ran back to your room to grab the supplies you needed to do Tina’s hair, having forgotten them in the morning.

When you entered your room San was just stirring; your alarm had woken him earlier, but he was tired and it was the weekend, so he let himself sleep more.  His long hair was laying messily over his face, and the low grumble he let out as he stretched was too beautiful a sound to ignore; you stumbled over to the bed, sat next to him and leaned down to pepper kisses over his cheeks, making him grab onto you and actually kiss you.  He hadn’t said a word yet this morning, hadn’t done hardly anything but yawn and roll over; kissing you first thing was the best start to the day, something he could surely get used to.

“Why are you here?” he asked, running a hand through his hair and yawning.

“Forgot my curling iron and hairspray and bobby pins, and… yeah basically everything I need,” you laughed, looking towards the small vanity in the corner of the room where you’d laid everything out the day before.

“Cause you’re too excited?” San asked, pushing up to his elbows.

“I guess so,” you chuckled, brushing away hair that had again fallen in his eyes.

“I really need to get it cut, goddamn.”

“No please don’t, I love it so much,” you pouted, running your hands through it, tugging slightly on his roots.

“You just like doing that,” he murmured, his eyes closing again as his voice dropped.

“Maybe,” you giggled, doing it again, slightly harder.

“Are you trying to make me hard?”

“No, I-“

He cut you off by grabbing you, his body suddenly alight in energy even though the remnants of sleep were still in his eyes.  Pinning you to the bed he kissed you hard, moving to your cheek and your neck, your laughter building the whole time as your body tried to recover from the surprise of his movements.

“You think it’s funny to make me hard first thing in the morning?” he asked through labored breaths, but he was laughing too, his dimples popping in that way that always made your heart ache.

“Sannie,” you sighed, staring into his eyes mere inches from yours, before kissing him again, softly.

“I know you need to get back to her, I just had to do that,” he chuckled, sitting back on his knees, helping you up.  You could see through his sweats that he was in fact hard, and you looked at his bulge rather pathetically; you felt bad he’d have to deal with it himself this morning, the whole day stacked with plans, not a chance for you to help him.

“Stop looking like that, I can handle myself for a day,” he chuckled.  “What’s a day when I lasted six months?”

You snorted, slapping his shoulder playfully and dipping your head in what almost felt like embarrassment; you weren’t sure why, but now that things were changing and that period of celibacy was behind you, it already was starting to feel sort of ridiculous.

Ridiculous, but needed.  The time that had allowed things to blossom again, to regrow, stronger, healthier, with deeper roots.  There was no breaking your bond now, not with how gracefully and intentionally it had been repaired.

“Go, don’t be late.  I’ll see you later,” he smiled, kissing you once more before moving off the bed, allowing you to do the same.  You quickly scrambled to grab your things, heading back out the door and jogging the twelve feet next door, the entire room already a tornado when you returned.

“What took you so long, miss thing?” Sasha asked as soon as you entered, already starting on Tina’s face makeup, the group of you wanting all the time in the world to get this perfectly right.

“Oh nothing, just San was up, so…”  You gestured with your hands as if they explained anything, fighting a smile forming on your lips.

“Did something happen last night?” Tina asked, and immediately your eyes snapped up, feeling like she’d read your mind.

“How could you tell?”

“Last night he was carrying you over his shoulder,” she laughed, forcing Sasha to pull back her sponge for a moment.

“Yeah?”

“And we saw you guys kissing,” she continued.

“Oh, well, shit, I didn’t think y’all even knew we were there,” you snorted, and the entire room’s eyes were on you, shocked by everything Tina had just said, knowing all about your agreement with San.

“So you guys are done with your no touching rule?” Micah asked, starting to apply her own makeup in her tiny portable mirror propped up on the bed.

“Yeah,” you smiled, and the entire room started cheering, making you cover your face and groan a bit.  

“I feel like you all are more excited than me,” you laughed, shaking your head at each one of them.  “This day is about Tina, too, I don’t want to overshadow that.”

“You won’t mija, but this is such good news!” Bibi responded, everyone nodding in agreement.  “Felicidades y lo mejor.”

“Gracias Bibi,” you replied, smiling genuinely, finally organizing yourself enough to start working on Tina’s hair.  You sidled up behind her, plugging the curling iron into the wall, before getting to work sectioning off her hair and clipping it up.  The room fell into a steady lull of meticulous work, and as you finished curling the bottom section of her hair, Tina finally spoke.

“So, did you fuck last night, or what?”

“Titi,” you laughed, nearly burning yourself in the process.  “I have a very hot weapon in my hand right now.”  You mimicked hitting her with it which made her jump a tiny bit, Sasha scolding your for messing around and almost messing her up, too.

“So you did,” Tina laughed, reaching back her hand to try and poke you.

“Yeah, yeah we did,” you mumbled, laughing as Sasha howled, your twin completely crumbling in laughter, having not experienced the many funny voices and faces of your hilarious coworker.

It took many hours of meticulous work, but eventually as the afternoon wore on you’d all transformed Tina into the bride of her dreams, her hair curled and fluffy, her makeup soft but not subtle, her dress so perfectly fitted she looked like a Disney princess.  She’d gone with a sleeveless option, the new tattoo on her right upper arm visible, the bottom of the dress flowing and huge like her hair, covering the dainty white heels she was wearing.  After scarfing down some food, you all made final adjustments to your own hair and makeup, having worked in shifts helping each other, doing whatever you felt looked good in the moment.  Tina and Maya hadn’t requested anything perfectly coordinated, just wanted you all there and feeling your best, happy smiles on your faces.  It was easy to fulfill their wish when the day had been so pleasant already, elation and joy filling the air as you all slipped into your dresses and made final touches to your faces.

You waited for the text from Tina’s mom that everyone was ready, then waited just outside the door for her to walk over and take Tina’s arm in hers.  The four of you made your way to the small ring of trees being used as a sort of backstage area, then lined up with the four groomsmen, and finally walked your way up the aisle, a small group of local musicians alighting the air with the atmosphere of dreams.

Maya looked sharp and stunning in her suit, just as you’d expected, and as you walked past her you smiled giddily, so excited to see her reaction to the masterpiece that was your best friend in her white dress.  As you all lined up either side of the arch, the music stopped, then swelled, and a new song was started; the song, the predictable one, the one Tina had requested specifically.  She’d always loved Mendelssohn’s Wedding March in C Major, as cheesy as it was; she had always dreamed of this day, and that song was always the soundtrack of all those dreams, a lullaby of future hope and happiness.

And as she turned the corner, as every head in the seats craned backwards, you focused your eyes on her partner, on the one who had made this dream come true for her.  Maya’s eyes were glassy with tears and she did a remarkable job holding them in, taking deep breaths to help steady her nerves.  Tina was also on the brink of tears, but doing a far worse job of hiding it; you saw one slip down her cheek as she neared the little arch, and Maya reached up to brush it free from her cheek, whispering something.

Your eyes scanned back over the rows of loved ones, catching on your mom, your dad, and then San, sat comfortably with your parents and smiling widely.  As Maya’s father commenced the ceremony everyone fell quiet, his wavering sing-song voice filling the air, but you weren’t making out any words, only the soft hum of them.  Your eyes were stuck on that beautiful handsome face; his deep brown eyes, his dimples, his hair falling slightly in front of his right eye. 

There he was, the love of your life.  In his eyes was the promise of love to come, of true companionship, and the proof that you’d changed, you’d grown, that you were so much better now.  Tina and Maya kissed, the rows of smiling people clapped and cheered, tears sprang in your eyes, and life felt about as right as it could.

(the end)

taglist: @pyeongstarr @hwaromi @hi00000234567 @felixs-voice-makes-me-wanna @starhwa1024

@completelyjae @midnightrebel1028 @pautiny27 @snapcracklen @randajjjad

a/n pt. 2: as with my last series, it's truly blowing my mind that I even made it here. this series challenged me in many ways, I felt extremely unsure after finishing part 5 if I'd even be able to write the rest. I feel so proud that I found a way to do it, that I pushed on, and I can't thank you all enough for the response I've gotten.

the asks I've received about this story have absolutely blown my mind. to know so many of you have connected with the story and care so much about these two characters like I do is a spellbinding thought. if you ever have left comments, reblogs, or asks for me, know that I absolutely adore you and I think about your words often. feedback is what every author craves, and I feel so lucky to have received such kind words from you all.

tomorrow will be my one year anniversary of writing and posting fics on here, and to think back now at how much has changed, it's honestly hard to comprehend. though I don't struggle with romantic relationships the way our mc in this story does, there are always hurdles we face in life that seem incomprehensible at the time, that often we are hardly aware of. I hope that in the coming years I can go on a journey similar to hers, and I hope that you all can as well. Know that you deserve love, good and healthy love, without pain or confusion or fear. not just form others, but from yourself as well.

I love you all to pieces. thank you for everything <33333

[x-prettyboy-x]

Any thoughts on Erik x autistic reader? Preference for femreader, but you choose what to do

Erik with Autistic Partner Hcs

Oh I have plenty of thoughts, I won't write a full one shot for this, so sorry but I will give my thoughts:) I adore this request

Masterlist

•Erik Campbell who makes sure your favorite food is always stocked, because he knows you'll say you're hungry then not want anything in the fridge because you only want that one meal you've been eating that past week.

•Erik Campbell who doesn't know what to do when you start crying when your favorite character from your current hyperfixation dies so he opens tiktok and finds edits of them immediately to distract you, making sure to avoid the sad ones at all costs

•Erik Campbell who can tell when you're overstimulated at the family get togethers, knows when everyone talking over each other is starting to get to you. He'll take you inside and sit in his room with you for as long as it takes.

•Erik Campbell who will eat the rest of your food for you when you no longer want it because that one bite didnt have the right texture and made you gag. Then he'll make you something else.

•Erik Campbell who will watch the same movie over and over because he knows youre fixated on it, will listen to you intently when you tell him all you know about how that scene was made, or how that line was improvised, or how this actor actually got hurt doing this scene. No matter how many times he's heard it before.

•Erik Campbell who will lose his shit if anyone even has the wrong body language when you're talking about your hyperfixations, because he knows you'll pick up on it, knows you'll shut down and apologize and won't talk about it again for a couple days because it made you feel annoying.

•Erik Campbell who will glare at anyone in public who looks at you wrong when you start stimming because you found merch from your fixation. And he'll buy it for you with no questions asked.

•Erik Campbell who goes all out for events like your birthday or Christmas, spending maybe a little too long looking for things from your current Fixations. Maybe he spent a little too much money on a script from your favorite movie that was signed by the cast one year on Christmas. Your reaction was worth it though.

•Erik Campbell who has a special playlist for when he's tattooing or piercing you in the shop, full of your favorite songs so you can focus on anything else. He makes sure the shop is empty, of course.

•Erik Campbell who won't question when you're non-vocal, he'll just double check you're okay mentally then put your favorite movie on, give you a snack he knows you like.

•Erik Campbell who always matches your excitement when you find a new fixation, asking you question after question to keep you going. He likes seeing you that excited, that happy.

•Erik Campbell who isn't offended when you dont wanna be touched sometimes, he didnt get it when you first started dating, but after you'd explained, it was always fine with him.

•Erik Campbell who rearranged his room so you could have a shelf in there for some of your collectibles

[ash5monster01]

Waiter! Waiter! May I please have a classic burger to go with a side of onion rings? Thank youuu :)

Order #4

Now Serving!

Main Course: Charlie Dalton x FemReader

Ingredients: fluff, enemies to lovers, mentions of family issues, imposter syndrome, co-ed Welton, trauma bonding, language, light flirting, no use of y/n

Meal: Charlie fluff, enemies to lovers

Total: $14.94 = 1.5k words

Menu - Masterlist

Tears stream down your face, unable to stop them as your emotions wash over you like a wave. It wasn’t often you broke down like this, usually keeping yourself together, but after a while the pent up emotions became too much. This became one of those times after hearing the angry words of your father over the phone, vicious words and disappointment over you not being good enough no matter how hard you tried. In no world could you be the perfect daughter. 

“Oh sorry,” the familiar voice of the person you want to see least startles you. Looking up from your spot under the pay phone in the dark hallway stands Charlie Dalton. 

“Why are you here?” you ask bitterly, knees pressed tightly to your chest as you hug yourself. Charlie goes to quip back but it’s then he sees the tears streaking your pink cheeks. Even if you had embarrassed him in front of everyone when you first came to Welton and he had never let you live it down, he wasn’t going to be cruel. 

“I could ask you the same thing?” he says, turning his head up and down the hall to make sure you were both still in the clear. When he finds it’s still just you two, he bends down and sits beside you, a safe distance still between you both. 

“As you can probably see, I’m not really looking for company,” you hiccup, sleeved arms wiping away your tears. Charlie pretends to not see it but he feels himself soften towards you. 

“You want to tell me what happened?” he asks after ignoring your request and you sniffle, not daring to look at the boy. 

When Welton became co-ed, your father saw it as a gift from God, but Nolan had made it clear if there was any mishaps or relationships, you’d be out faster than you got in. So on the first day of school, when Charlie Dalton had loudly catcalled you and made some sly comment about how nice you wear your skirt, you decided to get back at him every chance you could. You had returned his comment by loudly pointing out how much shorter he was from the rest of the boys and the rivalry was on. 

“Why, so you can tell the whole school and humiliate me?” you snap, glaring at him from over your knees and he sighs. You watch as he slumps against the wall, head rolling over to look at you. Your eyes are slightly swollen and red, lips still puckered, and despite his major bomb the first time he met you, he still thinks you’re the prettiest girl in the world. 

“Our secret, no one here for us to give a show to anyway,” he says, voice defeated, and you discover he’s as tired of being your enemy as you are his. Studying him for a moment longer you finally loosen the grip on your legs and relax against the wall beside him. 

“My Dad was just bugging me about my grades. Says I’m not trying hard enough and making him look like a fool for forking over so much money for me to go here,” you admit quietly, practically a whisper in the abandoned halls of the school. 

“Sounds like my Dad, but that’s mostly about me not getting serious about anything. Says I’m wasting time goofing off,” and you give him a shocked look, surprised to see you have something in common. Yeah, most prep school kids had odd relationships with their parents but you could see it in his eyes now, the lingering worry of if he’d ever be good enough. It was the same look you saw in the mirror everyday. 

“It’s just annoying, never being good enough for him. I don’t think he’s ever even said I love you to me,” you say and Charlie nods, like he knows this story all too well. It’s the first time there seems to be a truce between you both, seeing each other as a peer, and accepting you were more alike than you thought. 

“Well if it helps, I think you’re good enough. I mean, you’re a wiz in math and almost better than Meeks at Latin. It seems like it all comes so easy to you,” Charlie praises and you feel tears burning at the back of your eyes. Yet they’re not sad tears, instead they were happy ones, a reaction to the words you desperately needed to hear. 

“It doesn’t, I just study until my eyes start going blurry and stay up late every night doing my homework. I haven’t made a single friend here but the need to please my father stops me from even trying,” you tell him and he nods, not relating to this. His reaction to his father’s need to succeed was to fight it. He gave the bare minimum when it came to school and goofed off with his friends every chance he could. 

“I’ll be your friend,” Charlie answers as if this will solve all your problems and you can’t help the laugh that escapes you. Quickly you put your hand over your mouth to soften the sound and not alert any one of your after curfew conversation. 

“Please, everyone knows we hate each other. What are we supposed to do, start holding hands and skipping down the hall?” you ask sarcastically but Charlie just shrugs as if it’s not the worst idea he’s ever heard. 

“Not exactly, but we can start by yelling at each other less, plus I pride myself on being a good friend. I may be a shit student and obnoxious when you first meet me, but I’m loyal as hell and come with a group of really great guys,” and you know this to be true. Having met kind souls like Neil and Meeks in passing, the rest seemingly just as sweet. The fact Charlie was included in their group at all had to say something about him as well. 

“I didn’t mean to call you short by the way, I just didn’t want to get in trouble with Nolan. My Dad would’ve had my head,” and Charlie can understand that, more than anyone probably so he nods and accepts the apology. 

“It’s okay, I am short. But I make up for it in other places,” he jokes which earns him a scoff and harsh shove to his side. He laughs as he topples over but recovers quickly, finding you’re both closer when he sits back up. 

“I’ll be your friend Charlie, just as long as you convince Neil to help me with English?” you bargain and Charlie grins, holding his hand out to you. 

“Deal,” he says and you accept his hand, shaking it firmly and trying to ignore the way something sparks between you both. Traveling up your arm and settling low in your stomach. Touching him shouldn’t feel so sacred, so intimate. Yet here the both of you were, refusing to let go and studying the other’s eyes in the eerie halls of your shared prison. 

“You think one day, when there no rules against it, we could be more than friends?” Charlie whispers, like it might save him from embarrassment if you can barely hear it. Shockingly you grin, pulling his hand into your lap like a small piece of him was now yours.

“Maybe, but only if you’re nice,” you tell him and Charlie smirks, allowing himself to lean closer to you. The idea of this forbidden and unspoken thing between you both finally becoming real. 

“I’m always nice,” is the answer he gives and you can only roll your eyes as he chuckles. When silence settles between you both again you find yourself lifting his hand and pressing the softest of kisses against his knuckles. 

“Piss me off again Dalton and this’ll be all over,” you inform him after you pull away and he gulps, his skin fire hot at the idea of you kissing him for real. 

“If I’m good, would that earn me a kiss?” he asks and you pretend to think it over, enjoy the way he squirms while waiting for your answer. Finally you look back at him before using the hand that isn’t holding his own to grab his shoulder. Slowly you lean in close, kissing his cheek featherlight, the corners of your mouths barely brushing each other. Charlie’s eyes close, visibly gulping as he discovers letting you in would officially be the death of him. 

“Be good and you’ll see,” you say before standing up quickly, the instant separation sending a chill over both your bodies. You feel immensely better, Charlie distracting you from the cruel words of your father and you’re surprisingly thankful for the shift between you. 

“Thanks Charlie, good night,” you mumble, a dreamy smile on your face and he looks at you dumb with love and offers a soft wave as you rush off. 

“Good night.”

[formula-fun]

being a ferrari fan would the dream lineup be ver/lec in red or do you prefer max being a rival team driver? (i'm assuming you wouldn't want charles to leave)

no i dont want charles to leave hashashash he's the one true believer, so if he leaves because he doesn't believe in ferrari anymore it'll mean we're truly praying at an empty altar

this is controversial but hold my hand for a minute

bringing the championship back to ferrari means more than having the wdc alone. it's not just down to being a fantastic driver in an okay team. that isn't enough. having a rocketship isn't enough either. they need someone who can reshape the team from the inside out, who has enough experience to know how to build a team up around a single goal, who isn't afraid of sponsors and who isnt gonna bite their tongue. they need someone who loves ferrari and everything it means to the sport, but who isn't so blinded by faith that they'll hold back

please picture it with me. it's a match made in heaven. max is running out of new records to break, but this is the one thing people have been holding their breath about for well over a decade. he grew up a tifoso, and the tifosi are falling in love with him. in italy they were singing his name. if anyone could give the team the knowledge and the drive to win it would be him

also constant lestappen battles? do you guys remember the vibe in early 2022? the serenity, the optimism, the excitement every weekend knowing we were going to see beautiful racing?

just to drive it home im going to tell you why charles to red bull is inherently inferior to max to ferrari:

the second red bull seat is cursed and i dont need to see charles going through another curse

red bull is a trash fire right now. that team is falling apart. im sorry but it's time for people to grab what they can and start running

ferrari is in hell. we can only go up from here

red bull does a lot of fun cool media challenges but ferrari does a lot of shitty lame media challenges and personally id rather see max and charles try to read an ad for 100% renewable shell fuel with a straight face than idk drive a car while someone jumps out of a helicopter right above them

it's just better for the narrative. lestappen at rbr = max continues life, charles gives up on his dreams, they probably fight. lestappen at ferrari = max takes a leap of faith, charles' faith is renewed, they probably fight but even if it's a mid off it's more interesting to see them throw themselves against each other's ramparts out of belief than out of desperation

also, a fight at rbr = they both fight for yet another championship blah blah blah. another sports rivalry. a fight at ferrari? no matter which one of them wins, they'll both be remembered forever as the two who brought it back to maranello. the poets will write songs abt it etc etc

i think max would look niceys in red and he deserves to be on a meal plan that's 90% pizza + pasta

he loves italy, let him have this

this is so long but im right. thank you for coming to my ted talk

[bethialyn]

Alrighty! Subtle spoilers for 170-180+

The door creaked open, letting in a faint breeze and the sound of heavy footsteps. Someone was humming.

“Friend!” Braun chirped, stepping in with a paper bag of food in one hand and a bouquet of flowers in the other.

“Aren’t these beautiful?” he beamed. “I passed by the flower shop and saw them—figured they’d be a nice replacement for the ones on your desk that’ve been wilting for weeks.”

He kicked off his shoes with a soft clank and placed them neatly aside, still rambling as he padded into the room.

“These, too-I..”‎

His voice faded.

Not because he stopped talking, but because Kim Soleum had stopped hearing him.

Braun, ever observant, noticed. He stopped mid-sentence.

The easy mood vanished, replaced by the soft, repetitive tap-tap of fingers on the table.

“…Friend?”

A quiet pause.

“What’s bothering you?”

‎‎

Kim Soleum looked up at the man standing across from him, face open with concern.

He knew Braun intimately, in a way. Ever since Braun had shown up in this world, without his powers and without the presence of ghost stories. He’d somehow become easier to talk to. Human, even.

‎

‎Which was what happened in the previous days.

‎

‎Kim Soleum thought to himself as he remembered the days they spent together.

‎

‎Nothing could possibly go wrong

‎

‎'Why....'

‎

‎He abruptly looked away. Trying to avoid his expression from being read, although he knew Braun could tell.

‎

‎The thought twisted his heart painfully.

‎

‎***

‎‎

They sat across from each other at the table, the silence stretching long.

Braun didn’t speak and waited patiently.

The flowers rested on the side, slowly wilting without water.

He hadn’t just bought them because the old ones were dying. They reminded him of someone.

Soleum’s hands were clasped tightly together, knuckles white. His expression remained hard, eyes shadowed.

‎

‎Braun has seen those eyes before.

‎

‎Back in the world of ghost stories, but it wasn't when the terrifying monsters approached his friend, or when he ran for his life.

‎

‎It was a specific moment.

‎

‎One he hadn't particularly liked.

‎

‎He was helping his friend as always...until all of the sudden, he stopped talking to him.

‎

Braun didn't understand why his friend did that. And then when his friend finally did speak, the word “betrayal” slipped out like it hurt to say.

‎

‎However it wasn't really those words that struck him, although he did remember so vividly.

‎

It was the look in his eyes when he said it.

A kind of grief Braun couldn’t name. But if he had to-

It was the look of someone who wanted to be wrong, and knew they weren’t.

‎—

When Braun first arrived in this world, Soleum had been confused.

Why him?

How did he even end up here?

Braun claimed he didn’t know either.

And since they knew each other already, Soleum had reluctantly taken him in. He told himself he’d figure it out and send him home.

But he hadn’t. The investigation dragged on. Circumstances got in the way.

In the meantime, they lived together.

Shared meals.

‎

‎Heartfelt conversations.

‎

‎Going out.

‎

‎Even watching cartoons.

All the simple, human things they never had the chance to do before.

And maybe, against his better judgment, Soleum got used to it.

More than he meant to.

More than he should’ve.

‎

‎A normal life with a friend he cherished.

‎

‎How could it have gone so wrong?

‎

Kim soleum quickly stood up from his seat, a sharp screech coming out of his chairs’ leg.

‎

‎Braun tilted his head up in surprise as his friend slowly approached him, his steps carrying a certain care.

‎

‎It reminded him of how this dear friend of his approached him back then with courage when they had a little…disagreement.

He stopped in front of Braun.

For a moment, he just stood there, unmoving. The silence stretched between them, taut and thin like something that might snap.

Then, without a word, Kim Soleum raised his hands slowly, almost hesitantly. Like he was unsure if he was allowed.

‎

His fingers brushed against Braun’s jaw first, featherlight, then cupped his face fully, palms warm and trembling just slightly. He held him like that. Gentle, like someone worth mourning.

Kim Soleum didn't understand the way he felt.

How he easily said goodbye to him when he received the wish potion.

And now, how the thought of Braun disappearing was something he didn't even wanna entertain anymore.

Perhaps it was because Braun had finally become a version of him that he could let his guard down to.

Or perhaps he had simply missed him, whether he was Braun the human, or the TV host.

‎

Soleum’s breath hitched. His face twitched like he wanted to say something, like there were words scraping at the inside of his throat, but nothing came. His bangs fell into his eyes, shielding whatever expression was behind them.

Braun didn’t move.

He wasn’t sure if he could.

The warmth of Soleum’s hands seeped into his skin. It was grounding, but it also felt like something unraveling deep in his chest.

‎

‎Kim Soleum’s hands stayed like that for a while.

‎

Soleum’s hands slid slowly from Braun’s face, fingers trailing down like they were memorizing the shape of him, pausing at the curve of his neck, then resting on his shoulder.

And then–

Kim Soleum leaned in.

His forehead gently fell into the crook of Braun’s neck, letting out a shaky sigh he didn't know he was holding.

Braun’s hands hovered for a moment, uncertain.

He took a moment to find the right words to say.

Then his large hands eventually settled on his dear friend’s back. A wry smile tugging on the corner of his lips.

‎He spoke again, gentle and reassuring.

‎"Friend."

‎

‎”Is it me?"

‎

‎

‎

‎

‎

‎

I've read up to ch132 of gsgw and now i need an au where Braun ends up in human world. KSE returns to his original world, thinking it's over, on his way to his very normal, very human job and- why does that tall blonde foreigner look like he's about to throw up? His suit and gloves looks similar to- wait- Braun??

Braun notices him and starts tearing up because oh, finally a familiar face! He's running up to KSE like Mr Soleum idk how i ended up here. where's my head. where's my stage. Why does he feel this weird twist in his stomach (hunger). Why does his eyes keep closing (sleepy). He can't incinerate things and on top of that he has to breath voluntarily (entities don't have to breath do they). He's losing his mind.

To Braun this is a valid crashout. To passerby tho it looks like that korean salaryman dumped his foreigner bf in middle of the streets. "Poor soul. How could he? Does that man not have a heart? He's not even comforting him..." KSE can see people sideyeing him. Fuck isn't that his colleague who just saw him? The one who likes to gossip? He's so doomed.

[theactualsunshinechild]

*banging my fists against the wall helplessly, tears streaming down my face*

MY RAREPAIR STILL HASN'T INTERACTED AND AT THIS POINT I'M NOT SURE THEY EVER WILL

[zorionbbq]

party chat #56: nanba's transformation

(transcript both in alt text and below)

[image description: five-page comic of a "party chat" conversation from yakuza 7.

beneath the scaffolding of a construction site, nanba holds a bottle of tea and asks "hey, you think i've changed at all since we met?"

the rest of the party, standing or crouching on the side of the path, turn to look at him.

"hm? have you?" ichiban tilts his head, hand on chin, and lets saeko pick from his chip bag. "i dunno, lemme think..."

adachi leaps to his feet, splashing his can of beer and surprising saeko. "got it!"

adachi snaps his fingers with a triumphant smile. "you changed how you part your hair!"

"huh?" nanba reaches toward the back of his own head. "nope, it's still the same..." adachi sheds a single tear.

hand raised high, saeko announces "right! your prescription changed!" ichiban taps a canned coffee on his palm in an "i get it!" motion. "what, are you trying to be funny now!? and that's wrong, too!" nanba retorts.

"okay!" han looks serious. "you changed the frames on your glasses!"

"you started wearing contacts instead of glasses!" zhao finger-guns with a grin.

"will you quit it with the glasses thing!?" nanba snaps at an unfazed, juicebox-sipping han. "and does it look like i'm wearing contacts!?" he gestures at himself. zhao smugly bites an onigiri, still squatting on the ground.

adachi frowns around a pocky. "huh? then what's changed?"

"never mind... sheesh." nanba turns his back on the group.

a view of the vending machine and soccer field across the way. "i just thought maybe i'd grown a bit cheerier since i met you guys."

"that's all." nanba doesn't see the party staring in shocked silence.

saeko, han, and zhao exchange fond looks.

nanba chugs his tea as ichiban approaches.

ichiban bumps his drink hand against nanba's.

"well, we already knew that, man." ichiban grins so wide his eyes shut.

"yeah, you smile a lot more than you did before, nan-chan." saeko concurs, offering him her chip bag.

nanba looks up, eyes wide. "ichiban... you guys..."

a hand lands on nanba's shoulder.

arm slung over his friend's back, ichiban cheerfully assures "and i noticed that you got some new lenses on your glasses, too." nanba's face falls.

the party loses it. saeko collapses on adachi, both doubled over in laughter, zhao cackles as his glasses fall off, and han clutches his head in despair.

"i didn't change anything about my glasses!" nanba roars. on the ground, a plastic bag of leftover snacks reads "#56 nanba's transformation".

end image description]

[ofgrenvde]

He'd known she'd been thinking about it too, but hearing her say it out loud made everything feel more real somehow. Like they weren't just two people pretending this was casual anymore. She'd been replaying those months just like he had, wondering what might have been if he hadn't been such a coward about staying put. The look on her face when she asked if he was ready made him want to laugh. Was he ready? Mate, he'd been ready since he'd walked into this bloody diner and seen her sitting there trying to act like she didn't care. Hell, he'd been ready since Chicago when he'd been too much of an idiot to do anything about what was happening between them. All this dancing around each other was getting tiresome. "More than you should have, eh?" He couldn't help the grin that spread across his face. "Well, that's something we have in common then. Been driving myself mad thinking about what I should've done differently back then." Honesty felt dangerous but necessary. They'd already admitted too much to go back to pretending now. 

Besides, what was the point in lying when they both knew exactly why they were here? She was still fighting this, even now. He could see it in her eyes—that last bit of resistance warring with want. Fair enough. He'd been doing the same thing for months, telling himself he could forget about her while knowing damn well it was bollocks. Some things you just couldn't shake, no matter how hard you tried. Her question about being ready almost made him laugh out loud. Ready? Christ, he'd been ready before they'd even ordered food. This whole meal had been nothing but an elaborate bit of foreplay disguised as small talk. They both knew it. The only question was whether she was finally going to stop pretending otherwise. He reached across the table and took her hand before she could change her mind. Her skin felt exactly like he remembered. "I've been ready, love," he said, already standing up and tossing some notes on the table. "Question is whether you're done talking about it." He threaded their fingers together and started heading for the door, already thinking about what came next. Time for games was over. Finally.

COMPLETED

His confession about never being good at healthy obsessions made something twist in her chest - not because it was romantic, but because it felt like looking in a mirror. She'd built her whole life around unhealthy obsessions too, hadn't she? Helping people who couldn't be helped, staying married longer than she should have, now this thing with him that made zero sense but felt inevitable anyway. The Chicago issue felt like a loaded gun between them. Of course she'd thought about it. Those months had replayed in her head more times than she cared to admit - not just the physical tension, but the quiet moments too. Him reading while she worked, the way he'd actually listen when she talked about her cases, how he never treated her like she was just there to serve him. She'd convinced herself it was all one-sided until right now. "Healthy obsessions are overrated anyway," she said, surprising herself with the admission. "And Chicago..." She paused, weighing how much truth she could handle giving him. "Yeah, I thought about it. Probably more than I should have."

The conversation during their meal had been easier than expected - him telling stories about jobs gone wrong, her sharing horror stories from the safe houses. Normal stuff, almost. Like they were just two people who happened to know each other instead of whatever complicated mess this actually was. He'd made her laugh, which felt dangerous in its own way. Laughing with someone meant letting them in, and she'd spent years perfecting the art of keeping people at arm's length. Now, staring at their empty plates and the check he'd already paid, reality was setting in. They'd been dancing around this for an hour, pretending they were here for food when they both knew better. Her pulse had been racing since he'd sat down, anticipation mixing with terror in equal measure. She looked around the diner one more time, then back at him. No more stalling, no more pretending this was anything other than what it was. "You ready to do this?"

[skitskatdacat63]

Yes these have all already been posted, but 2023 Vettonso comp post for me because I'm going to have an emotional breakdown

[dreamcatcher-roulette]

I still haven't recovered from Sydney actually oh my god. I went a little um. Crazy. On the snapshots. And I started trying to figure out which pose to do with who and if I should do something special with yooh because she's my ult bias but ultimately I was like well but I love them all. Hearts for everyone. So the first six were in Melbourne and genuinely every single one of them was magical and I don't regret a single bit of that money because I'm first of all so happy I got to thank all of them in person but also I'm going to treasure those pics forever but then Sydney was like. The Big one. You know. AND SHE PRANKED ME.

[I removed the image because I got Scared people who know me could see the image and realise it's me even with the blur lol. She's giving me bunny ears]

So now I have six hearts and yooh doing this which is better than I could have ever imagined 😭 the spike in my heartrate halfway back to the SVIP hitouch line when I opened my photos and realised....

[vox-off]

bones knows how to fetch 😭