#thanks for reading cupcake

[wereh0gz]

Cream, Eclipse, and Sonic from the manor are passing out cupcakes and bracelets to the winners. They have literally any flavor you can think of. Congrats on winning the first round!

He's very grateful for the cupcake, thank you!

[madameadelina]

Anastasia and Warren navigate the gritty Undercity, seeking aid for her fields. Tensions arise during their meetings with a previous childhood friend. A stop at a local tavern reveals glimpses of Warren’s past to her, and the night seems to take a lighter turn.

I hope you guys enjoy this! 🤍👀

[soupis4ever]

just the three of them

they could make it if we try anyway these are all slapdashed because i wanted to put my ideas down not make them look great. that's why dreads coat looks the way it does and why the weapons are p lackluster. i like these drawings anyway though. im a sucker for cute colours

[raine-st0rm]

HAPPY PRIDEEE

I GOT GAY CUPCAKES HAHAHAH

[something-tofightfor]

First: THANK YOU FOR WRITING THIS. I already told you this last night over text but it means so much that you took the time to create this for me - and give me such a warm and cuddly and perfect birthday gift in Frankie Morales and his Broad Ass Shoulders. You're the best.

Birthday office celebrations are always really awkward - but this one actually seemed very laid back and thoughtful. It's especially nice to be appreciated and celebrated after only a couple weeks of getting to know people, so I'm sure Reader feels a lot better about the new position and her new coworkers after this. (her coworkers sound great; I would love to meet them) And cupcakes are always a mood-improver, so good on them for bringing those in.

Spending a January birthday in Florida sounds wonderful right now (especially with these -25 windchills right now) but it's understandable that she's feeling homesick for her first major holiday away from her old life.

Kevin sounds like he sucks, so good riddance. And the City Planning guy also sounds awful, so at least there's a backup person on the phone call to make it less terrible.

Gloria seems like a lot of fun, and I feel like this is the perfect way to jump into an out of office friendship - especially if the night goes well. (And with Benny and the others involved, I'm certain it will.)

But feeling left out of an already established friend group's outing is a real fear, and even though there's no pressure ... it's still a lot. Enter Francisco.

He's so ... Frankie in this first paragraph it hurts. The hair and the hat and the "I'm not trying to impress anyone" attitude (even though he'd be impressive even if he showed up unshowered and rumpled and with 10 days facial hair growth) are so spot on - as is the banter between him and Pope and Yova.

43, hmm? OK. I can work with that. It sounds like a lot of things are going well and going right for him, and that makes me happy. They've all had a rough go after South America, so to have everything starting to fall into place has to be a relief. (I'd say RIP Tom, but ...) It's interesting to me that he immediately sees Reader - even though he's not looking for anyone or anything. And it's even more interesting that his first reaction is "I want to know her" - because that's at odds with what he's just told himself in the truck and on the walk into the bar.

Will and Frankie going back and forth makes me so happy. In fact, all of them together makes me smile, because ... listen, let me be real: their group dynamic without Tom is so much better.

Annnnnnnd it takes him all of about fifteen seconds after he sits to ask about Reader. Subtle, Frankie. Real subtle. And Gloria knows what's up, feeding him just the right amount of information and upping the interest. Perfect. Gold star.

His curiosity is really nice, too; like "why did this woman not have birthday plans? that's odd." being his first thought is very telling.

Reader's also not being too subtle about her attraction to him, and I like that. I like that it tells them both where they stand, and gives them a starting point - for whenever they actually speak for the first time. (Also, Yovanna I want to know what you said, too. Probably something like "see? He's staring right back.")

Selective hearing would probably come in handy around these guys at times.

Pope with the hockey tickets and Yovanna immediately humbling him made me laugh out loud. And here we go.

Him standing to introduce himself- yes. Him immediately telling her to call him Frankie - YES. Him getting her a chair... HELL YES.

He is handsome. So damn handsome. This is a good start.

This first hour and half is really telling; she inserts herself into the core group, she follows along with the conversation, and she keeps his attention, even when it's interrupted. That's got to make her feel so good about herself (it sure made me smile while reading it). And him wanting to know more, deepening the conversation more than just bare bones talk over beers dwslikfjslfklkalf fuck he's perfect. This is supposed to be his birthday celebration, and he's focusing on someone else. I love it.

Him giving her restaurant suggestions feels really right too. But I'm very distracted by that shirt and those shoulders and the man himself and I just ... Yes, Yovanna and Gloria. You were right but you don't need to gloat.

I can hear Yovanna's "I told you" in my head, and love that she immediately reassures Reader that Frankie isn't just a hookup type of guy - and that his interest is genuine. (Yovanna and Pope are sickeningly cute but I love it). And it's clear that Reader gets along with the group, so I doubt that Yovanna would be encouraging her to go for it if she thought it would end in disaster.

The hand - chair - shoulder move .... fuck. Fuck him he's slick. It's the perfect way to show definite interest without being overbearing, and if it's not reciprocated? It's just a casual gesture that he could have done to anyone at the table.

If he looked at me like that or his eyes dropped or his breath caught I'd be done for right then and there. Just kiss me in front of all of these people, Frankie, I do not care.

LATE NIGHT SUSHI DATE WITH FRANKIE MORALES?!!??!? SIGN ME THE FUCK UP.

They're matching each other's energy here, and it works really well. One upping each other with the invites and interest is a surefire way to keep things moving forward - and even though it's a surprising turn of events, it's a welcome one.

He is BOLD - but I really appreciate that he tells her exactly how he sees (and wants) the night to go. He can kiss frosting off of me any goddamn time he wants to. Him giving her his full and undivided attention while talking about how the bar-time part of the night is over would make me MELT. Fuck.

And I like that since Benny picked her up, Frankie's taking her home - which gives them more time to talk and more time to flirt and more time to get to know each other between the bar and the sushi - and then after. I hope they stay up all night talking (and doing other things). I hope that they find out that they have a lot in common. I hope that they continue to date and that they all become friends and Frankie's confidence continues to grow and Reader realizes that moving to Florida was a good decision.

This was such a treat, Alyssa. You always characterize everyone perfectly IMO, and it's so fun to read and see what you do with these characters and situations. Frankie is one of my absolute favorites and I loved everything about this. He was the perfect way to warm up on a frigid night - and the IDEAL birthday gift. You're the best and I am so lucky to know you.

Unbirthday

A/N: Although I am now two entire weeks late (I am the actual worst) this was written as a birthday gift for @something-tofightfor, because she is the fucking best and I love her guts. Rachael, I hope you enjoy this silly little story. Since Frankie Morales is apparently a "fictional character" and isn't "real" I couldn't wrap him up and send him to you, so this was the best I could do. Sorry it became an unbirthday gift - but it sort of works with the story that way. Anywho, here's hoping that this trip around the sun is a GOOD one!

And if it's your unbirthday today, happy unbirthday to you, too!

Word Count: 6.2k

Warnings: alcohol, and Frankie's shoulders and back making a shirt work very hard.

Summary: Spending your birthday in a brand new city goes from zero to sixty thanks to a co-worker who is determined to become a friend... and thanks to the breathtakingly handsome guy she introduces you to.

You had only been at your new job for a few weeks when your birthday rolled around, so when you walked into your office and flicked the lights on that morning, you were shocked to find a balloon tied to your chair and a white bakery box holding an assortment of cupcakes atop your desk. 

What? Who did th-

“Surprise!” 

You spun around to see a handful of your co-workers gathered in the doorway behind you, bright smiles on their faces as they wished you a happy birthday. 

“Oh, shit!” You let out a laugh as your hand came up to cover your mouth, prompting more laughs from the others. 

This is so nice, I wasn’t... Despite the fact that on your very first day at the firm, the office had been celebrating someone else’s birthday, you hadn’t expected anything for yours. Because I’m still brand new here, they hardly know me. You got along well almost immediately with the people you worked with, which was fantastic. Still, the fact that they embraced you quickly enough that they would want to do something for your birthday came as a genuine surprise that gave you a small rush of warmth. 

Not that you needed it. January in Tampa was certainly not January in the midwest. You hadn’t felt a chill since you took the transfer, a fact that you made sure to text your shivering friends back home every few days. But even though it was a balmy 68°F and you were wearing short sleeves under your light sweater, the added warmth of your colleagues’ kindness was more than welcome.  

Dropping your hand, you beamed at the group which had grown by two more associates from the interior architecture department down the hall, Mel and Casey. “Thank you all so much! You guys really didn’t have to do anything at all. I-” 

“Oh, stuff it, of course we did!” Gloria, whose office shared a glass partition with yours and with whom you traded exaggerated expressions while on client calls, stepped forward and threw her arms around you. “You’re the best transfer this office has ever had, we lucked out when we got you! Of course we’re going to celebrate your birthday.” 

You chuckled, giving her a quick, loose hug in return. “Gloria, did you do this? Also, weren’t you a transfer from the New York office?” 

“I was. Like I said,” she released you and stepped back, grinning. “You’re the best transfer we’ve had. Happy birthday, Ohio.” 

The rest of the group called out individual well-wishes before filing back to their own offices and cubicles, leaving just you and Gloria.

“Thank you,” you said again, reaching out to quickly squeeze her arm. “It really means a lot to me.” You sighed, finally putting down your bag and shrugging off your sweater. “I’ve been loving living down here, but the past few days, I don’t know, I guess I’ve been a little homesick. I don’t usually do a ton for my birthday, but this is the first one where I won’t see any of my family or my friends from back home so…” You gestured to the bakery box sitting next to your keyboard. “This was just really nice of you.” 

“You’re welcome.” She scrunched her nose. “Thanks for being ten thousand times better to work with than that dipshit you replaced, Kevin.” 

You snorted. Though you’d never had the displeasure of meeting the notorious Kevin, you’d heard enough about him to know that his presence in the office was definitely not missed. “No problem, though from what I understand it’s a very low bar.” 

“Which you leap over with the ease and grace of a…” She circled her hand through the air. “A… Oh, I don’t know, whatever the hell leaps gracefully. I’m a landscape architect, not a poet.” 

That made you laugh again. “Speaking of which,” you pointed at your computer screen. “Are you ready for that conference call with the city planner? J.R. approved our designs, so-” 

“Yeah, yeah,” she cut you off, nodding. “All set. Designs for the new park. Not looking forward to dealing with Sweetheart McGee, but-” You rolled your eyes as she used the nickname you’d given to one of the men you’d been working with from the city planner’s office who called the to of you “sweetheart” every time you’d spoken to him. “But it should be a smooth call. More importantly, though-” 

You had a sneaking suspicion that whatever was coming next wasn’t, in fact, more important than the biggest project that the landscape department had in house at the moment. Gloria had a tendency to use the phrase “More importantly, though…” to segue into a conversation about whether or not you wanted to get coffee delivered or which shoes you thought she should wear to her cousin’s wedding or if you thought Greg from IT was cute or not because she could totally set you up with him if you did.

And you were proven right as she finished her sentence. 

“Do you have plans tonight?” 

Shrugging, you shook your head. “Nah. I’ll probably just order in and finally finish unpacking the last of my stuff from the move. There’s a sushi place around the corner from me that I’ve been meaning to try, so… Why are you looking at me like that?” 

The way she was looking at you was a mix of the way you might look at the last puppy in the window at the pet store, combined with the confusion one might display while trying to solve an extremely advanced math equation. 

“Because you cannot just go home and eat sushi by yourself on your birthday.” She held up her hand then, face returning to a neutral expression. “Unless that’s actually what you want to do. And if it is, I won’t judge.” But? “Buuuuut.” She pressed her lips together. “If you want to get out and do something fun? 

You cocked your head to the side. Maybe. There was no harm in seeing what she had in mind. If it wasn’t your speed you still had your backup plan. And I should really get that shit unpacked, but… It doesn’t have to be tonight. “What are you suggesting?”

Gloria’s eyes lit up as you asked, her smile widening. “Well, Benny’s… You met my boyfriend, Benny, last week when he picked me up, remember?” You did, so you nodded. “It’s actually one of his and his brother’s friends’ birthday today, too, or, it was yesterday, but they’re going out tonight because one of them was working last night I think? I don’t know. My point is, it’s just going to be a casual thing down at Duffy’s, and if you want to join, you absolutely should.”

You were about to decline when you asked yourself why you shouldn’t go. 

First of all, you seemed to be on the fast track for an out of office friendship with Gloria. The two of you clicked right away, and though you’d only spent time with her out of work once, you could easily see it happening more and more. And I want that. You had solid friendships back home and scattered far and wide, and those people meant the world to you. But you would be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t want to form a few friendships in your new home, too. 

There was also the fact that the bar she’d mentioned, Duffy’s, was only a few miles from your place. It was actually where you and your sister went for drinks after she helped you move the last of your things into your condo. She’d driven down with you to keep you company on the trip, then taken a flight back home. But before she did, the two of you spent a day exploring your new neighborhood and ended up at Duffy’s. Though you were excited about your new job and the new start in a new place, you were still a little unsure if you’d made the right decision. But when you walked into the well-loved and weathered beach bar that night, something told you that everything was going to work out just as it should. 

And if for some reason that harmonious feeling you got upon entering Duffy’s was a one time thing, you could leave and be home in under eight minutes. And tomorrow’s Saturday, so… Fuck it. 

“You know what?” You nodded, a grin curving up your cheek. “That sounds great, Gloria.” 

She let out a small gasp and clapped her palms together once. “You’ll come?” 

“Yeah.” You nodded again, your grin growing into a full blown smile. “What time?” 

 “Ah! I’m so happy!” She genuinely was, and it made you feel good to know that she was looking forward to getting to know you outside of work. “I think Benny said nine, but I’ll ask him to be sure and then get back to you.” She clapped her hands together again and sucked in a breath as though something just occurred to her. “Oh! And you’ll get to meet Yovanna! I told you about her I think? Anyway, she’s dating Santi, one of the guys in the group. She’s great, you’ll like her.” Gloria chuckled. “And she’ll like you, too.” 

“I hope so!” And if not or if it’s awkward because they’re friends and I’m new… I can just go. 

“No, she will, trust me.” Gloria furrowed her brow and nodded. “You two are actually pretty similar.” She smirked. “You don’t take shit and neither does she.” The slightest hint of mischief sparkled in her eyes as another thing dawned on her. “Wait, two of the guys are very single right now and one of them-” You were trying to stop her right there because you weren’t looking for a setup, but she didn’t let you, simply speaking just a touch louder so all you could do was laugh. “One of them is Benny’s brother, and the other is-” 

You finally got her to stop by waving your arms and forming them into an X shape, still laughing. “Gloria. Stop. I’ll come out because it sounds fun. But I’m not looking for a matchmaker.” 

She held up her hands in surrender, a sheepish smile in place. “Fine. I’m just trying to give you all the information ahead of time.” She winked. “Just in case.” 

“Okay.” You winked back, giving her a thumbs up. “Consider me briefed.” 

Before Gloria could say anything else, Mel’s voice came through the speaker on your desk phone, saying your name. You pressed the button that let you respond. “What’s up, Mel?” 

“Brandon Grant from the city planner’s office is on line one for the conference call with you and Gloria.” From across the room you heard Gloria groan, then looked up to watch her mouth “Sweetheart McGee already?” with a sickly frown on her face, and you had to close your eyes and cover your mouth so you wouldn’t snort into the speaker. “Can I put him through?” 

You cleared your throat and shot Gloria a look. “Can you just give me one minute before you put him on? Tell him I’m on the other line, just so I can log in and get the project files open and get situated.” 

“No problem,” Mel answered. “He’s early, anyway. Just buzz me back when you’re ready.” 

Thanking Mel, you clicked the button to end the call and then let your hands fall against your lap as you faced Gloria. “Alright, you ready to get this over with?” 

“We are really going to deserve those drinks after dealing with this guy.” She sighed, then headed for the door, only to appear a second later on the other side of the glass wall. She sat at her desk and started up her computer, then looked over at you and nodded once. 

You buzzed Mel back and then you were on the line with Brandon Grant, the man stepping right into his nickname upon greeting. 

“Good morning, sweetheart, how you doing today?” 

You cringed, forcing a smile into your voice as you answered. “Oh, you know! Another day in paradise! Are you ready to go over the landscape designs for the new park?” 

For the next hour you and Gloria took Brandon through the possible layouts, explaining why certain plants and elements were chosen, and answering all of his questions while simultaneously keeping a count of how many times he referred to either of you as “sweetheart”. By the time you hung up, the count had reached twelve and he’d thrown in a “hun” as a bonus. 

We definitely deserve those drinks tonight.

But even though he was a pain in the ass to deal with, Sweetheart McGee has chosen one of the three designs you’d proposed, and as long as it was approved by the city council, it would be your first project to move into construction since switching locations. Which is pretty cool. 

You sighed, leaning back in your desk chair as you peeled the paper off of one of the cupcakes from the box your co-workers had left you, reading over your calendar to see what was next on your schedule. Taking a bite, you hummed in satisfaction. Damn, that’s good. 

It was only ten in the morning, but it was already proving to be a better birthday than you hoped for. As much as you tried to focus on work for the rest of the day, you couldn’t help but feel excitement about the prospect of going out later that night. 

Because… It means I could really have a life here. Not just a job. Friends and good times and… You really didn’t want Gloria to try to set you up with anyone. But if it happened naturally? 

Well, if that were the case, you’d be open to anything. 

Sometime after your lunch break, Gloria heard back from Benny and confirmed the time with you, the woman insisting that you let them pick you up despite your protests about how close the bar was to your place. 

“You really don’t have to do that,” You tried one last time. “I don’t mind driving myself, and I don’t want to intrude on your date night or anything.” 

Gloria waved you off and clicked her tongue. “It’s not date night, it’s birthday drinks with friends. I promise you Benny doesn’t mind, and I definitely don’t.” 

Oh, what the hell? It was clear that Gloria was trying to make sure that you felt included, even though you wouldn’t know anyone there aside from her and her boyfriend, whom you’d only exchanged a few words with. You appreciated how welcoming and inviting she was, and knew that she meant well, having been new to the area herself only a year earlier. I can still call an Uber if I have to leave early, and that way I don’t have to worry about having more than two drinks. 

“Okay,” you said, finally giving in with a sigh full of faux exasperation that turned into a laugh. “You win!” You told her that you would text her your address, and then Mel was calling you through the intercom, letting you know that another of your clients was waiting on line one. 

“And I have Annie Fulton from Florida Polytechnic on line two for Gloria,” Mel added. “So if you could tell her to leave you alone and get back to her own desk that would be swell.”

Snorting out a laugh, you looked over at the co-worker who was quickly becoming a friend, only to find that she was laughing, too. “Well,” you said, “You heard Mel. Get out of here.” 

“Alright, alright, I’m going.” She backed out the door, calling out one last thing before she was visible on the other side of the glass wall again. “Can’t wait for later!” 

As you prepped the files for your next call, you realized that you couldn’t wait for later, either.

– – – 

Pope and Yovanna were just getting out of their car when Frankie turned into the lot at Duffy’s, his truck’s headlights sweeping across the other parked cars to reveal that both Millers, as well as a few guys he worked with down at the airfield, were already inside. 

Gang’s all here, I guess. 

He pulled into the spot next to Pope, the other man waving at him through the windshield, his free arm wrapped around Yovanna’s waist. She waved, too, giving him a smile that brightened her whole face. Turning off the ignition, he waved in return, then glanced at his reflection in the rearview mirror, removing his hat and smoothing his hair down before yanking it back down over his curls. 

Good enough. Not trying to impress anyone anyway. 

As soon as he opened his door, he was greeted by Pope’s voice. “Ahí está el viejo!” 

Before Frankie could respond, Yovanna smacked Santi on the arm. “And who are you calling old, hmm? Estás pisándole sus talones.” Frankie laughed at that, reaching past Pope to give Yovanna a hug first. “Happy Birthday, Francisco,” she said, kissing him on the cheek and giving him a squeeze. 

“Thank you,” he replied, grinning at her as they separated. He turned to face his friend then, giving him a nod. “And she’s right, pendejo. You’re catching up. If I’m old, what does that make you?” 

“Still younger than you,” Pope responded with a chuckle, slapping Frankie’s back before slinging an arm around him. 

“Yeah, yeah, alright,” Frankie rolled his eyes. “C’mon, let’s get inside before Benjamin comes looking for us.” 

The night out was happening at Benny’s insistence. Up until two days earlier, Frankie had no birthday plans and he had been just fine with that. Forty three wasn’t exactly a major milestone. And with the way things had only just started to really settle following their return from South America - the reinstatement of his pilot’s license, the finalization of his divorce, getting shared custody of his daughter - he hadn’t had time to think about smaller, more trivial things. Least of all, celebrating his own forty third birthday. 

But Benny claimed that a new beginning at the end of the shitstorm was the perfect time to celebrate. 

Which Frankie thought sounded a little like one of Will’s speeches blended with Benny’s optimism and garnished with a twist of Pope’s persuasiveness, but at the same time, he kind of saw the point that his friend was trying to make. 

It’s less about my birthday and more about… He swallowed, flexing his right hand and then loosening it and letting it fall to his side. More about everything that comes after. 

The after. That was something that Frankie could readily celebrate. The fact that he, that all four of them, had survived the biggest mistake that any of them had ever made and could still fill their lives with good things, big and small. That was something he could drink to. 

Besides, it’s not actually my birthday today. It was yesterday. 

That didn’t stop Benny from letting the whole bar think otherwise. 

“Hey! Happy Birthday, Fish!” The younger of the Miller brothers exclaimed as Frankie, Pope and Yovanna stepped inside. He raised both arms, a full pitcher in one hand and a stack of empty glasses in the other. Behind him, Frankie saw Will stand from a table where he had been sitting with Gloria before making his way over to say hello as Yovanna made her way over to take Will’s place at the table. But who is that other woman? 

You turned then, laughing at something that Gloria had said. And even though he could only see half of your face from the angle of where you were sitting, he felt an instant attraction at the way that laugh brightened your eyes. I don’t know who she is, but I want to. 

“There he is,” Will said, clapping him on the shoulder with a grin. “Happy birthday, Morales. What are you now, sixty? Sixty five?” 

“Cool it, Ironhead, I’m only three years older than you.” Frankie responded, feigning offense and shrugging Will’s hand away. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Will laughed as Benny passed a full beer to Frankie. “We’re all on our way to the old folks home.” 

“Speak for yourselves,” the younger man interjected, filling and passing a glass to Pope, too. “Gloria and I are still thriving in our thirties, so-” 

“So that means you’re paying for drinks?” Pope chimed in through a smirk as he gripped his glass. “Wow. How generous of you, Benny.” 

Benny rolled his eyes. “Ha, ha.” Setting the pitcher down, he raised his own glass and the other three followed suit. “To Frankie. Cheers to being another year wiser than these wiseasses.” He cocked his head in Will and Pope’s direction. 

“Now hold on a minute, Ben, I-” 

But Frankie didn’t let Pope get the rest of his protest out before clinking his glass to the three that were waiting. “No, I think that was a perfect toast. Thanks, Benny.” He took a swig of his drink, and even though he hadn’t really wanted to come out, he was already glad that he had. Nights out with the guys weren’t rare occasions, not by a long shot. But he was still grateful that he got to have them. And tonight’s just getting started. 

Yuri and Ed from the airfield filed over then to wish Frankie a happy birthday, followed by a few other friends and acquaintances that Benny and Will had spread the word to. After about an hour of mingling, he finally made his way over to the table where the rest of the group was sitting, dropping into a seat next to Gloria. 

“Happy birthday, Frankie!” She spoke over the music and chatter as she leaned over to give him a loose hug. 

“Thank you, Glo.” He smiled at her as he pulled back. “It’s nice to see you, thanks for coming out.” 

She waved a hand as she reached for the handle of the pitcher, Benny scooching it towards her without breaking from the conversation he was having with Will and Pope. “Of course! Wouldn’t miss it.” She poured herself a half glass of beer, then wordlessly asked if he wanted a refill, too. 

Nodding, he held his glass in place. “Thanks,” he murmured, looking over his shoulder as she topped him off. “Hey who did I see you talking to before?” And where is she now?

A mischievous grin stretched across her lips as she looked up at him and set the pitcher on the table. What is that look for? “A friend from work,” she responded, telling him your name. “A single friend,” she added.

Frankie huffed out a short laugh. “I’m not- I didn’t-” 

“I know you didn’t.” Gloria winked at him. “I just want you to have all the information,” she added, knocking the rim of her glass to his. 

“Well…” He raised his glass to his lips, smiling behind it. Well… That’s good to know. “Okay.” 

“Oh! And it’s her birthday, too, so I invited her out.” 

What? And she didn’t have other plans? “Oh. Well, I’m glad you did,” he said, setting his drink on a cardboard coaster and letting his fingers slide down the chilled glass. “The more the merrier.” 

He looked up and in the direction of the restrooms just as you and Yovanna came through the hallway that led to them, and when he did, he locked eyes with you. Fuck, she’s beautiful. He felt his smile grow again at the sight of you, especially when he noticed your slight intake of breath as your eyes met his. He watched Yovanna say something into your ear that made you cover your face and laugh, and then she raised her hand to wave at him. 

I wonder what she said to her. He raised one eyebrow along with his hand as you dropped yours from your face. The remnants of your laughter were still written all over your cheeks and again he felt an undeniable pull, a desire to get to know you. Because I want to see that smile again. And I want to put it there. 

His thoughts were interrupted by Pope tapping the table in front of him. “Hey, ground control to Catfish.” Frankie blinked, turning his attention back to his friends. “You’re not going deaf on us, are you? I asked if you’re in.” 

Picking up an unused coaster, he flung it like a frisbee at Pope, who batted it down in one smooth motion. “Just selectively.” 

“Ha, ha.” Pope rolled his eyes. “So does that mean you don’t want to go to the Lightning game on Wednesday?” 

“The Lightning?” Frankie took a sip of his beer, eyebrows drawn together. “Since when are you a hockey fan? Do you even know anything about hockey?”

“Oh, believe me, he does not.” Yovanna laughed as she dropped into the booth bench next to Pope, her arm going around his shoulders so that her fingers could card through the hair that curled behind his ear. He turned to face her, both of them wearing ear to ear grins. “We watched the game last night and he had no clue what was going on the whole time.” 

“I didn’t,” he admitted, garnering snickers and snorts from both Miller brothers. “But I’m learning.” He shrugged. “The tickets are from work. We just signed a contract with Amalie Arena so I’ll get tickets a few times a year. So I figured why not broaden my horizons?” 

“It’s not the easiest game to understand right away, but if you give it a few games and actually pay attention, you’ll catch on.” Another voice joined the conversation then, and everyone turned towards where you stood at the edge of the table. “I have a friend who’s a big fan so I’ve watched a few games with her.” Giving a small shake of your head, you laughed. “I still don’t know all the rules. It’s a wild sport, but it’s fun.” 

“See?” Pope gestured at you with one hand. “I don’t have to know the rules to have fun.” 

“Oh, good.” Frankie placed his palm flat on the table. “So your short attention span should be just fine then.” His friend’s response was to flip him the bird, the rest of the table laughing before falling back into conversation as Frankie stood and faced you. “Hi, sorry I didn’t get to introduce myself yet. I’m Francisco.” He shook his head. “Frankie. Let me grab you a chair.”  

– – – 

You hadn’t even finished your first drink yet, so you knew the rush of warmth you felt in that moment had nothing to do with the alcohol and everything to do with Frankie’s slightly lopsided smile. 

Fuck, he’s handsome. He pulled a chair away from an empty table and plopped it next to his. And chivalrous. 

“Thank you.” You sat, returning his smile with one of your own, and telling him your name as Gloria slid your glass across the table from where you were sitting before to your new seat between Frankie and Yovanna. “And happy birthday.” You lifted your drink in his direction before taking a sip. “Thanks for letting me crash your plans.” 

“Thank you.” His grin spread wider, lifting his cheeks into his eyes. “Happy birthday to you, too.’ He tipped his drink so that he could clink the rim of his glass to yours. “And you’re welcome. I’m glad Gloria invited you.” 

Your eyes darted over just in time to see Gloria shoot you a wink over Frankie’s shoulder. “Yeah,” you said, still smiling, your heart beating just a blip faster. “Me too.” 

Over the next hour and a half that became even more true as you fell easily into conversation with the group. Gloria had been right about you and Yovanna clicking, and the guys were just as easy to get along with. Since there were other people there for Frankie’s birthday than just the seven seated at the table, he got up a few times to go spend some time with them, too, but each time he came back he returned his focus to you, either commenting on something that you were telling the others, or asking you questions if you weren’t part of the larger conversation happening. 

You told him about your job at the architecture firm, and about the transfer that brought you down to Tampa in the first place. Will and Benny chimed in when you talked about how different winter was where you were from, the Indiana born brothers claiming that they’d love to see Frankie or Santi shovel their way out of a Midwest blizzard. 

“Why?” Frankie grimaced. “That just sounds like it hurts.” 

You’d laughed at that, nodding. “It does. I love the snow and I don’t really mind shoveling but…” You sighed. “I won’t miss the whole body aches after doing it.” 

“Facts,” Gloria agreed, nodding sagely. “Shoveling snow is not fun or easy.”

“You lived in a co-op building in Queens, Glo,” Benny responded, tightening the arm he had around her and giving her a skeptical side eye. “You didn’t have to shovel anything.” 

“I did not,” she confirmed. “But I watched the snow removal guys and they definitely did not look like they were enjoying themselves.” 

Everyone laughed at that, and then the conversation branched in a different direction. But Frankie didn’t follow it, turning to you and circling back to your recent move. “So aside from the weather, are you liking it down here?”

Smiling, you nodded. “I am. I’m still getting my feet under me. Learning where things are and which take out spots are good and all that.” 

Frankie hummed, crossing his arms over his chest. “Try Tino’s on Gateway Boulevard if you like burritos,” he suggested. “And if you like sushi you should try Ginkaku on-” 

“-North Evans?” You asked the location at the same time that he said it, your eyes widening. What are the odds? “Yeah, I’ve been meaning to try there.” You chuckled under your breath. “I was actually going to stop there tonight on my way home from work, but then Gloria told me I couldn’t spend my birthday eating sushi alone, so…”

You trailed off as someone near the bar called over to Frankie, telling him that they had to get going. He twisted in his seat to respond, saying that he’d be over in a second, and you found yourself staring at the way the movement made the fabric of his shirt stretch over his broad back. Damn. Out of the corner of your eye you noticed Gloria and Yovanna giving each other looks that you were fairly certain had to do with the way you were looking at Frankie, but you didn’t care because when he turned around again, his deep brown eyes locked with yours and nearly knocked you sideways. 

“Sorry, I just have to go say goodbye to a buddy of mine from work, and-” 

“No, don’t apologize! Of course.” You cocked your head towards the bar. “Go ahead, Frankie, I’ll be here when you get back.” 

He took a breath, then swallowed and nodded, eyes still on you as he stood from his seat. “Okay. I’ll be right back.” With that, he turned and headed over to the bar, and you were met with a view of his back again. 

Tearing your eyes away in an attempt to be more subtle about your attraction to a man you had met less than two hours ago, you cleared your throat and finished your drink. 

Your attempt was for naught, though, because even though Gloria was engaged in an intense conversation with Benny, Will and Santi, Yovanna was looking at you with a smirk. “I told you,” she said, one eyebrow raised as she lifted her drink to her lips. “I saw the way he looked at you before. He’s definitely interested.” 

I hope she’s right. Heat flooded your cheeks as the thought crossed your mind, and you knew you likely looked flustered, but you shook your head and let out a scoff. “I- He… Yovanna, I’m sure it’s just-” You shrugged. “A birthday hookup or-” 

Her head moved side to side then, her dark curls swinging from her ponytail. “No. That’s not Francisco.” She glanced over at Santi, the man throwing his head back in laughter and clapping Will on the shoulder, a warm smile that softened her sharp eyes on her face when she turned back to you. “The two of them are very much alike. They don’t waste their time on things that they don’t think will be around tomorrow.”

As though on cue, Santiago leaned over to press a kiss to Yovanna’s cheek. “You good?” He murmured the words against her skin before pulling away. She turned to nod, scrunching her nose. “We’ll get going soon, yeah?” She nodded again, the man dropping another kiss to the opposite cheek. “Okay.” 

He turned back to the others then, but you noticed that his hand stayed on her thigh as she returned her focus to you, saying your name. “I know that you just met me tonight, too, but you can trust me on this. Besides-” She tapped her phone and you looked down at the time on the screen. “Tonight is not really his birthday, and it’s almost not yours anymore, either. So it can’t just be a birthday hookup.” She widened her eyes and pressed her lips together, reaching for the pitcher in the middle of the table. “I’m going to have one more drink. Do you want one?” 

Before you could respond, you felt the weight of Frankie’s grip on the back of your chair as he lowered himself back into his own seat. But it was the trail of his fingertips across your shoulder as he withdrew his hand that made you suck in a breath and wonder if Yovanna was right. Realizing that you hadn’t answered her question, you blinked and nodded. “Um, sure. Just half a glass, though.” 

Because if she’s right? I definitely want to stay clear headed for whatever might happen. 

You thanked her as she poured for you, and then turned to Frankie, licking your lips as you smiled. “Did you catch your friend before they left?” 

“I did.” He said it with a nod, then tilted his head to the side. What? Narrowing his eyes, he opened his mouth to say something, then hesitated, taking a breath instead of speaking. What is he- But then he straightened his head again and you saw - and felt - his eyes flick to your lips and then back up. Oh, shit, he- “So you said that you were originally planning on checking out that sushi place tonight but Gloria said you couldn’t spend your birthday eating sushi alone, right?” 

You pulled your lower lip between your teeth and nodded. “Yeah.” And I’m glad I listened to her. 

He sighed then and you got the feeling that he was working himself up to say something. “Well,” he let out a sheepish laugh and reached up to grip the back of his neck, thick fingers nudging the edge of his hat. “That place is open ‘til 2 on the weekends. If you’re hungry, we could go grab a bite.” Wait, is he… Is he asking me out? He shrugged, dropping his hand and giving you the same lopsided grin he gave you when he introduced himself to you. “That way you won’t be going by yourself and-” 

You poked your tongue into the side of your cheek. “And technically by the time we get there it won’t even be my birthday anymore, so-” 

Frankie nodded, grin spreading. “So Gloria won’t have a leg to stand on.” 

A thousand tiny butterflies swarmed through your stomach at the thought of spending more time with Frankie one on one. Oh, I am so fucked. Taking a breath, you looked at him and what you saw only confirmed that thought. Frankie was the most attractive man you’d ever been this close to. And he’s asking me out. There was only one answer, as far as you were concerned. 

“That sounds great, Frankie.” You held up a finger. “On one condition.” He lifted an eyebrow in question, so you went on. “We take it back to my place to go, because I have a bunch of birthday cupcakes leftover from the office this morning, and-” 

He laughed, leaning in to rest his elbow on the table, getting close enough to say something that no one else would hear. “So you’re saying if I play my cards right, I might get to kiss frosting off your lips?” 

Oh, holy fucking shit, Frankie. 

You gasped then, Frankie pulling back to see the reaction on your face, the expression he was wearing one that you would remember for a long time. Finally, you cleared your throat and answered. “That is exactly what I’m saying, Francisco.” 

His eyes flashed when you used his full name, and with his next breath, though he was still looking at you, he addressed the rest of the table. “Hey guys, this has been fun, but I think it’s time to call it a night.” 

Within a few minutes the tab had been paid - Will, Benny and Santi insisting on splitting it between themselves - and goodbyes were said. But despite what Frankie had just said, you knew that your night was just getting started.

.

.

.

Thank you for reading! If you would like to be added to or removed from the taglist, please feel free to let me know by sending a message or filling out the form on my masterlist! :)

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[fatliberation]

I saw a comment on your blog that says 'the way you eat does not cause diabetes'...are you able to expand on that or provide a source I could read? I've been told by doctors that my pre-diabetes was due to weight gain because I get more hungry on my anti psychotics and I'd like to fact check what they've told me! Thank you so much!

Pre-diabetes was rejected as a diagnosis by the World Health Organization (although it is used by the US and UK) - the correct term for the condition is impaired glucose tolerance. Approximately 2% of people with "pre-diabetes" go on to develop diabetes per year. You heard that right - TWO PERCENT. Most diabetics actually skip the pre-diabetic phase.

There are currently no treatments for pre-diabetes besides intentional weight loss. (Hmm, that's convenient, right?) There has yet to be evidence that losing weight prevents progression from pre-diabetes to T2DM beyond a year. Interestingly, drug companies are trying to persuade the medical world to start treating patients earlier and earlier. They are using the term “pre-diabetes” to sell their drugs (including Wegovy, a weight-loss drug). Surgeons are using it to sell weight loss surgery. Everyone’s a winner, right? Not patients. Especially fat patients.

Check out these articles:

Prediabetes: The epidemic that never was, and shouldn’t be

The war on ‘prediabetes' could be a boon for pharma—but is it good medicine?

Also - I love what Dr. Asher Larmie @fatdoctorUK has to say about T2DM and insulin resistance, so here's one of their threads I pulled from Twitter:

1️⃣ You can't prevent insulin resistance. It's coded in your DNA. It may be impacted by your environment. Studies have shown it has nothing to do with your BMI.

2️⃣ The term "pre-diabetes" is a PR stunt. The correct term is impaired glucose tolerance (or impaired fasting glucose) which is sometimes referred to as intermittent hyperglycemia. It does not predict T2DM. It is best ignored and tested for every 3-5yrs.

3️⃣ there is no evidence that losing weight prevents diabetes. That's because you can't reverse insulin resistance. You can possibly postpone it by 2yrs? Furthermore there is evidence that those who are fat at the time of diagnosis fair much better than those who are thin.

4️⃣ Weight loss does not reverse diabetes in the VAST majority of people. Those that do reverse it are usually thinner with recent onset T2DM and a low A1c. Only a tiny minority can sustain that over 2yrs. Weight loss does not improve A1c levels beyond 2 yrs either.

5️⃣ Weight loss in T2DM does not improve macrovascular or microvascular health outcomes beyond 2 years. In fact, weight loss in diabetics is associated with increased mortality and morbidity (although it is not clear why). Weight cycling is known to impacts A1c levels.

6️⃣ Weight GAIN does NOT increase the risk of cardiovascular OR all causes mortality in diabetics. In fact, one might even go so far as to say that it's better to be fat and diabetic than to be thin and diabetic.

Dr. Larmie cites 18 peer reviewed journal articles (most from the last decade) that are included in their webinar on the subject, linked below.

[stxxrlights]

#𝐇𝐔𝐒𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐃!𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎

thank you all so much for 400 followers. i really didn't think that i would reach so many people, so i made a special for you. also i can't reply to my comments on my posts or any but i appreciate them. enjoy!

husband!gojo who can't stand being away from you for so long. he's on his day off and he makes sure to spend every single second close to you just so he can admire you and whisper praises in your ear.

husband!gojo who takes you out on dessert dates. whether it be ice-cream, cake, milkshakes, whatever mood the both of you seems to be in. he stares at you with loving eyes while you enjoy the dessert you got and wipes any smudge on your lips or cheek.

husband!gojo who doesn't let you pay for anything. he was not gonna let you send the money that you worked so hard for to buy something that you can get with his money. he shares his personal info with you but does not wanna hear about yours. and he always insists you use his card otherwise, you'll be arguing infront of the cashier for more than ten minutes until you finally give in.

husband!gojo who caresses the ring on your finger everytime you hold hands with him. he does it unconsciously too as you talk about your interests.

husband!gojo who sometimes just can't believe that he's married to the most beautiful woman in the world. he can't help but kiss you out the blue when you're together because you're lips were just so tempting.

husband!gojo who's known to be someone who never shuts the fuck up and interrupts people when they're talking but not when it comes to you. he could just listen to you talk for hours on end because he just lives your voice and is genuinely interested with what you're saying. he also hates it when someone else interrupts you and so speaks up for you.

husband!gojo who loves posting pictures of you on the daily. be it pictures he took of you or selfies you sent with captions like "isn't my wife just so beautiful", and it could be a picture of you drooling in your sleep. but when he reads the comments and finds some creepy guys saying inappropriate things, he's gonna let them know just who they're dealing with.

husband!gojo who comes up with the dumbest nicknames to give because he thought they were cute when he's literally calling you "his cute little drooler" and "his sweet scumdilly yumyum cupcake" but he often times calls you "baby" or "princess" if he's not in a very silly mood.

husband!gojo who showers you with gifts when he returns from long work trips because he believes that you deserve the best. but when you tell him, that the greatest gift he has ever given you was coming back to you without fail, he has tears in his eyes as his heart swells and pulls you into a big hug and says, " i'll always come back to you love... always"

#comments and reblogs are appreciated

[one21puns]

You are so right

the pricefield to caitvi pipeline is Real bc most of my lis moots are now into arcane posting. i’ve seen much discussion on whether chloe and vi would like each other but i think the problem with that involves putting max and caitlyn in a room together 😭

[rafey-baby]

sweet treat 5

shy!reader really wants to tell construction worker!rafe how she feels but what if he doesn’t feel the same way?  

c/w: the L word, mostly fluff, her being an overthinker & getting a little jealous, pda, 18+ mdni!

wc: 2.3k 

sooo this is the last part! (might write some extras but i make no promises) & just wanted to say how much i appreciate everyone who reads my stuff. the first part was my first piece of writing on this blog and i was overjoyed by the warm welcome and all the kind comments, asks & reblogs (nothing goes unnoticed by me!) so thank u so so much for being so lovely <33

series masterlist

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

It’s been exactly two weeks since she came to terms with the fact that she’s in love with him.

She hasn’t been able to sleep all that well and has tried her very best to avoid Rafe, albeit fruitlessly since he insists on driving her home every day and on top of that, often invites himself over or asks her to stay the night at his— not accepting her excuses about being tired and having to wake up early.   

“Why don’t we jus’…be tired ‘n wake up early together then?” his grin is playful. And how is she meant to refuse that?  

And if everything he does wasn’t already suffocating her enough, he’s now helping with the renovation of the cafe since her boss wanted to expand the business; turn the small coffee shop into a bigger one in hopes of more space for new tables and seats, because the amount of clients they got was beginning to be too much for everyone to comfortably enjoy their stay. 

Therefore, she now has to work in the same building as him every single day because (unfortunately) the renovation work isn’t disturbing the current cafe from running nor decreasing the number of customers with a sweet tooth or a craving for their usual morning coffee.   

And none of this would be a problem, if Rafe wasn’t walking around all sweaty and dusty, biceps bulging whenever he’d lift wooden planks over his shoulder or carry around different equipment— looking as attractive as ever.

And with these newfound lovey-dovey feelings trying to break through the surface, she doesn’t know how she’s supposed to stop herself from ogling him or keep her rapid heartbeats to herself whenever he wanders over for a chat on his breaks. She tries to act as normal as she can, but she can tell that he’s starting to pick up on her excessive rambling and stuttering, flushed cheeks and anxious fingers fixing her hair every two seconds whenever he’s talking to her.  

In fact, she’s certain he can see right through her, knows that she’s hiding something. She can practically see how he wants to bring it up more often than not, but seemingly hasn’t found the right way to approach the subject yet, and she can sense that she’s running out of time— can’t tolerate lying to him for much longer.   

She’s been thinking this whole thing through over and over again, to the point of her head hurting while she bakes Rafe’s favorite lemon raspberry cookies as a distraction and because he’s been working so hard she wants to surprise him; see the soft smile that makes the whole world glitter whenever he graces her with it.  

And she wants to tell him, wants him to know how deeply she feels for him; how much she appreciates him but every time she tries to open her mouth, the words seem to evaporate before they’ve even begun to sprout on her nervous tongue.

Because what if he doesn’t feel the same way? What if this is all just a casual thing for him and she’s making it into something more than it is? These bleak thoughts turn her mood sour— a pout forming on her lips as she concentrates on topping the flamingo pink icing with fresh blueberries, adding the final touches to their most popular vanilla cupcakes.

And as she’s taking Rafe’s cookies out the oven, she comes to the conclusion that she really only has two options; she either tells him or she doesn’t.

If she tells him, there’s a very high possibility that he looks at her with a crease between his brows and words about not wanting for this to be anything serious hitting her against the face. And if she doesn’t, then…well she doesn’t really have anything to lose, does she? Except maybe the what ifs haunting her for the rest of eternity.   

She tries to get rid of the tormenting thoughts with a shake of her head as she sets the cookies off to cool down, and begins to place the finished cupcakes onto the display counter, trying her hardest to just forget about it all.  

- - - - - - - - - - - - -  

Later that day, when Rafe is contently munching on the cookies she plated for him and happily distracting her from work, someone approaches the counter; a girl with glossy lips and shiny hair.   

“Hi! Could I please get a mango matcha latte?” her eyes are as green as grass as she places her order.  

“Of course, would you like it with ice or no ice?”   

“With ice, please.”

“Coming right up,” she gives the girl a polite smile when her payment goes through.   

“You’re working on the renovation?” the girl’s attention then turns towards Rafe, making Y/N’s gaze flicker over to them as she puts blended mango into the bottom of a tall glass.  

“Yeah, the cafe’s gon’ be twice as big as it’s now,” he drawls, putting the half-eaten baked good down.   

“That’s so cool. You know, I’ve always wondered how construction workers are so strong. Do you go to the gym a lot?” a saccharine voice reaches Y/N’s ears, making her brows furrow while she measures the right amount of matcha powder, trying to appear nonchalant.   

“Uh, yeah, yeah, also think m’workdays sometimes count as workouts,” he scratches the back of his head as she lets out a giggle. It wasn’t that funny, Y/N thinks with a roll of her eyes.   

“Hey, I was actually wondering if maybe you’d wanna hang out sometime? Could give you my number?”   

Something muddy swirls in her stomach in response to the girl’s straightforward question. She doesn’t particularly appreciate the fact that she’s blatantly hitting on Rafe right in front of her, even if she’s painfully aware that they’re not together and the girl probably assumed they were just friends, which they are.  

However, she can’t prevent herself from turning grumpy from the mere notion of him being interested in someone else. After all, the girl is stunning and she wouldn’t really blame him if he wanted to at least consider her offer.  

“Uh, m’actually not available right now,” he offers an apologetic smile when the girl’s shoulders slump.   

“No? That’s a shame. Well, let me know when that changes?” she gives him a flirty smile that makes Y/N quietly scoff as she pours the milk into the mix.  

“S’not changing anytime soon,” she mutters under her breath, making both of their heads turn towards her.   

Fuck, did she really say that out loud?  

“Sorry?” the girl asks, muted jade settling on her suddenly tense form.

“Oh, um— jus’ that…here’s your drink,” she peeps out in her state of embarrassment, feeling Rafe’s eyes burning into the side of her face as she sticks a paper straw into the beverage; the ice cubes clinking together when she hands it out to her.

“Right, thanks,” she says before looking over to Rafe once more, seemingly expecting him to give her an answer of his own.  

“Uh…yeah, what she said. Not changin’ anytime soon,” his grin is wide, making the girl’s cheeks flush.  

And when it’s just the two of them again, she flits her eyes down— busying herself with a wooden container of tea bags she’s trying to organize, unable to face him.  

“What was, uh…what was that about?” his tone is taunting, an annoying smirk playing on his features.  

“Nothing,” she quickly dismisses, avoiding his gaze.  

“Nothin’? You’re tellin’ me you weren’t just real fuckin’ jealous two seconds ago?”  

“N—no,” she can’t even convince herself with the pitiful denial.  

“Don’t worry, sweetheart, m’all yours, alright?” he chuckles as he stuffs the rest of the cookie into his mouth.  

“How did you know I jus’ was cravin’ these?” he asks around the mouthful as she tries to brush aside the sudden tingle in her ribcage.   

- - - - - - - - - - - - -  

A few days later, when her shift is coming to an end, her other coworker already beginning to take orders and telling her she’s free to go, she drags Rafe behind the counter and practically forces him to taste test a new recipe she’s tried out; a walnut carrot cake with lime buttercream. 

“Wow, this is…amazing. The sourness in the frosting is so good,” his voice is muffled by his chewing and her heart warms in response to his commentary, never one to shy away from showering her in compliments.  

“You think so? I actually added the lime jus’ cause I know how much you like citrus fruits so, m’really glad you like it,” she beams at him.  

“Yeah? Made this jus’ for me, huh? Can I ask why m’gettin’ this special treatment all of a sudden?” his tone is playful, tongue licking over his bottom lip to clean up the bit of icing lingering there.   

“Well, cause I love you and—” she blurts out before her entire body tenses; mouth hanging open in shock and wide eyes slowly moving to look at him, trying to verify whether he heard it or not. Of course he did. She wasn’t exactly quiet now, was she?   

“You…you love me?” he raises his brows in surprise.  

“Uh…I— I didn’t mean to��I mean, you probably don’t feel the same so doesn’t really matter. Just— um...jus’ forget I said that. I don’t know why I—”   

“What are you talkin’ about? You think I spend most of my time with you cause I…what? Dislike you? You can be so silly sometimes, you know?” he scoffs, setting the golden fork down on the porcelain plate.  

She stays silent. 

“What I’m sayin’ is that m’obsessed with you. I mean, you’re even in my fuckin’ dreams, right? But listen, love has always been a little, uh, tricky for me cause m’relationship with my family has always been, uh, complicated? But if me wantin’ to spend every second of my day with you means I love you too, then, shit, maybe I do. But I need some time before I can really say that shit, you get that?” his words are honest and raw and she thinks her rattling heart is going to beat out of her chest.  

“I— um…yeah, of course. Take all the time you need,” she finally manages out.  

“Hey, c’mere,” he says before he’s practically dragging her dumbfounded form into his embrace; — beefy arms pulling her flush against his chest.  

“I mean, we’re basically already datin’ at this point, no? Wasn’t sure how to make it official without freakin’ you out but since you love me, think you’re all good, yeah?” 

She mumbles something incoherent in response.  

“So wanna be my little girlfriend or what?” he murmurs into her hair.  

“I— of course I do,” she speaks against his shirt.   

“Yeah?”   

“Mhm,” she hums before he tucks an index finger under her chin and lifts her face to look up at him—his thumb toying with her bottom lip before he’s leaning down and smearing a sloppy kiss against her mouth.   

“Shit, you’re so adorable, jus’ wanna swallow you whole sometimes,” he murmurs with a soft smile tugging at his lips and eyes twinkling with something syrupy in them.   

“I love you,” she mumbles, almost inaudible; words still too tender to consciously say out loud.   

“Say it again,” he practically demands.  

“Um…I love you,” her voice is nearly a whisper.  

“What was that? Think you can say it a little louder?” he teases.   

“Rafe, stop…you’re embarrassing me,” she whines, cheeks heating up.

“No, m’not. Jus’ wanna hear you say it,” his smirk is all big and smug and it makes her huff.  

“ILOVEYOU, okay?” the words mesh together like fluffy clouds in the sky and her volume is louder than he’s probably ever heard it, causing a couple of curious heads to turn and the lively chatter around them to quiet down some.   

“Yeah? You guys heard that? She LOVES me,” he’s nearly shouting, looking around with a stupid grin on his face— making her flush and hide behind her hands as a few customers cheerfully titter in entertainment.  

“Congrats, dude!” someone even yells.

“Oh my god, Rafe. Why would you do that?” her mortified eyes widen as she crouches down; trying to find shelter behind the pale-yellow counter. “M’never leaving my house again,” she complains with a glare.   

However, he doesn’t seem all that bothered by the whole thing, simply chuckling with dimples denting his cheeks— the light-hearted sound making her stomach flutter despite the humiliation crawling up her spine and making her want to vanish into the cracks on the floorboards.   

“Of course you are, m’your boyfriend now which means m’takin’ you out on a date tomorrow, yeah?” he lifts her up with a grip on her waist, pulling her flush against him while his fingertips slip underneath the hem of her shirt, smoothing over her bare stomach and making her let out a squeak.  

Then, he’s grasping her jaw in one hand and pressing his mouth on hers again— her protests withering away like a dead rose when he slips his tongue past the seam of her lips, dragging out an involuntary whimper from her, before she pulls away and hides her face in his chest when she feels multiple pairs of eyes staring at them.  

“Rafe, can we just go already?” she pleads, voice small before he’s guiding her out of the coffee shop; his hand resting on the small of her back and calming her down some. 

And despite the little scene he caused, she thinks she might just be the happiest girl on the island as he helps her climb into his truck with a honeyed kiss warming the apple of her cheek.

[minranghae]

Taste | 18+

》 pairing: c.san x f!reader

》 genre: fluff, smut, angst if you squint really hard

》 warnings: friend’s brother!san, female reader, general silliness, stubborn reader, san loves to tease, hes a sweetie too ofc, smut, piv, oral (f. receiving), fingering, pet names (angel, baby, etc.), coworkers, san bites reader one (1) time, barely proofread, unprotected, lmk if i missed any

》 wc: 5.2k

》 hello! i am back from the dead with my second fic and second installment in the senses series. i do apologize that this took so long, but i do plan on releasing more stuff soon-ish. i'm working on a longer series, so who knows what'll hapen lol. finally, i just want to say thank you for reading and i hope you enjoy this!

 “God, I really can’t stand you, San! Stop following me, pervert!”

“Yeah, whatever, just get in so we can talk,” he yells to you with his arm hanging out the window of his car, an annoyed, yet amused smirk covering his face.

“No way!” You yell over your shoulder, too embarrassed to face him both physically and figuratively. 

Really, how could you? Not after you found him with your diary in his hands, reading it like it was his favorite novel. At first, you tried to convince yourself that he didn’t see those pages, but the blush on his cheeks told you otherwise. 

And that’s why you’re here: running away from San in the middle of the night.

“I’ll make you a milkshake,” San coos from the car, causing you to turn your head in interest, “You know you love ‘em,” he offers, as if you’re a dog and he’s holding a treat in front of your face. 

And god damn it, it works.

“Fine, but I’m not talking to you until I get one,” you say, opening the car door and climbing in.

“You’re talking to me now,” he quips, earning a look from you that he thinks would’ve killed him if it had the ability.

“Alright, tough crowd,” he murmurs to himself with a dry laugh, hoping to earn a giggle- or at least a smile- from you, but to no avail.

The whole situation was so embarrassing. And degrading, and stupid, and embarrassing-

“Stop thinking so much,” he swats at your arm playfully, noticing the clear look of discomfort and sheer, unabashed embarrassment on your face, “you don’t even know what I have to say yet.” 

You answer him with a small hum, deciding against giving him a verbal response, because no matter how much you’d like to curl up in a hole and die, you’re still as stubborn as the day San met you. 

You officially met him the first day you worked at the diner. Your best friend’s family had owned it since the old owners left, leaving the significantly smaller family of four looking for new employees. College debt had already begun sneaking its way into the back of your mind, and Eunbi needed to work with someone other than her nagging parents or annoying older brother. It was the perfect opportunity for you.

“C’mon! Just try it!” The boy working with you begged.

“I already told you, I have trauma with milkshakes!”

San laughed to himself, trying to hide the amusement evident on his face.

“Look, I’m sorry you found a hair in your milkshake however long ago, but I can assure you that my milkshake is hairless,” he held his little finger up to you, “pinky promise.”

Rolling your eyes, you locked your pinky with his. Your hands lingered together for a moment too long, until San pulled his away to push the drink closer to you.

“San, you know, I’m not really a huge fan of chocolate-” 

“Didn’t you and Eunbi make chocolate cupcakes for your birthday though?”

You freeze, cheeks heating up at his question, unsure if it was the fact that he’d caught you in a lie or that he knew and remembered what you and Eunbi had done for your birthday bringing the blush to your face. Attempting to hide your embarrassment, you shot him a small smirk, gently pursing your lips.

“‘Gotcha there, honey.”

Ever since that day, San always had a milkshake waiting for you at the end of each shift. And maybe it was that kindness that made you blush, or maybe it was the fact that his eyes smiled along with his lips every time he greeted you. It could’ve been the way he always knew how to make you giggle, but whatever it was, it was clear that you’d fallen for San.

Which is weird. Weird because he’s older than you, he’s your coworker, he’s out of your league, and worst of all: he’s Eunbi’s brother.

Really? How cliche is that? It’s not even like you could tell Eunbi about it. That would’ve made everything so much worse. It’s embarrassing enough to be so head over heels for a guy who just sees you as his little sister’s best friend, but to have people know about it too? There’d be no coming back from that.

And that’s exactly why you decided to start keeping a diary, or mindful journaling as you called it. That sounded better than keeping a diary.

You originally started it to confess some of your feelings about San. You wrote how embarrassed you were to have a crush on him. You wrote about the milkshakes he made you and the times he defended you against angry customers. You wrote about how stressed you felt about life in general. Your worries, your fears, the moments of your days that you wanted to forget, but your mind wouldn’t let you. You wrote about anything you couldn’t confess to another person. 

On particularly late nights full of hopeless pining and horny desperation, you’d write about your fantasies, some involving random celebrities or TV characters, but most involving San. 

It was nothing too in depth, it was more about how much you wanted just a taste of him. You knew you could never have him for good, but if you could just feel his strong arms around you or his lips on your skin just once, maybe that’d be good enough. Just a little taste. It felt dirty thinking about him in that sort of way, but who would see it anyways? 

Little did you know, San himself would.

It had slipped out of your bag. And being the kind, and relatively organized coworker he is, San picked it up to put it back in your bag for you. The way it landed on the floor, though, left it open on its spine with its pages just begging to be read. 

He wasn’t going to read it. That would be an invasion of privacy, and San wasn’t that kind of guy. He wouldn’t do that.

But when he picked it up, he couldn’t help but notice his name on the page. And unfortunately, as it does most of us, curiosity got the best of him. 

San tried to stop himself, he really did. But, knowing just how eager you were for him put his head in a spin. He just couldn't help but picture you underneath him, with that adorable blush and shy smile that only appears when he starts teasing you. He wanted so badly to hear how you whimper, to feel how warm you are, to see how sweet you taste. He had a feeling you liked him, but he never would've guessed you reciprocated the feeling so strongly.

He saw this as more of an opportunity for you two. He wasn’t going to tell you what he’d seen; he’d just confess to you one night. And maybe it’d have to be secret for a bit, but eventually you could be his, and he wanted nothing more than that.

No big deal.

But, as soon as he heard a small gasp from the doorway and looked up to see your eyes welling with tears, he knew that plan was well fucked. 

San always thought you were pretty. From the moment Eunbi first brought you over, he couldn’t help but notice your expressive eyes and beautiful hair. But what he liked most was that shining smile you had. And seeing that he’d wiped it from your face as soon as you walked in, he just had to chase you.

And so, as you sat across from him in a booth in the dimly lit diner, he studied your face: the embarrassed blush and sweaty gleam sheening your forehead, your pouty lips wrapped around the straw of a chocolate milkshake as your eyebrows furrowed.

Even your beauty was stubborn.

He began softly, so as not to scare you, his fingers drumming against the table in a gentle rhythm, “So… do you like the milkshake?”

You looked up at him, an eyebrow quirked, “Yeah, it’s good.”

San pushed out a sigh at your icy reply, settling back in his seat as he let his palm fall flat against the table. He knew what he wanted to say, he just couldn’t find the words. You broke the silence a moment later.

“Look, we can both pretend like you saw absolutely nothing at all and I’ll ask to work different times of the day so we won’t even have to see each other. I’m not weird, I promise, I just-”

“Shh,” he cooed, grabbing one of your hands, his thumb rubbing soothing circles into the back of it, “you didn’t even let me talk yet.”

San’s gaze scanned your pretty face for a moment, falling onto those eyes and lips he adored. His heart pounded against the back of his ribs, and yet, you seemed so nervous. Had he read it wrong?

“Did you mean it? What you wrote?” he asked, his voice holding a subtle tone of insecurity. His gaze fell to the table where your hands met, his grip tightening just slightly.

You looked up at him, your wide eyes sweeping over his strong face and your breath picking up. Of course you meant it, but did he want you to mean it? 

“Why are you asking that?” you mumble, pulling your hand from his shyly. Your entire face was tinged pink from embarrassment and guilt, so anxious. San couldn’t stand it.

He made an effort to grab your hand again, his other hand lifting your chin gently so you’d look at him. He shook your head a little, trying to bring out a tiny smile again. 

“You said you needed my face between your thighs…”

Your body went rigid. Out of all the entries, he just had to read that one? You remember writing it after watching him open something with his teeth one day, his jaw flexing as he used his teeth to rip open the plastic packet. Unfortunately, your mind was clouded by unsavory thoughts later that night, and so, into the journal those fantasies went. 

“I’m just saying, I’ve needed a taste for a while now, too. Just give me a chance. Don’t run, please,” he pleaded softly, his grip tightening on your hand ever so slightly. He gave you that look, the one where his eyebrows would furrow so gently and his eyes gleamed softly, a desperation hidden in them. San wasn’t one to beg, but he couldn’t let you think he didn’t like you.

To his surprise, the confession didn’t make you smile. Instead, you felt your eyes well up with tears and a heavy weight lift off your shoulders. Slowly, you snaked around the table to San’s side of the booth, immediately wrapping your arms around one of his as you cried into his shoulder. He received you warmly, his free hand coming up to pat your head softly with sweet coos leaving his mouth, calming and affectionate.

“I thought you were gonna hate me forever, Sannie. I’m so sorry,” you sobbed, hiccuping softly, no even noticing your snot blotting San’s shirt. Such a mess.

San let out a breathy laugh, guiding your face up and off of his shoulder. He grabbed a napkin from the holder at the end of the table and wiped your nose with it gently, an affectionate air about him. He’d never seen you so emotional, and though his heart constricted seeing your tears, he was just happy to be the one taking care of you: his precious one. In a way, seeing you so worked up over something he saw as no big deal was endearing. Then again, almost everything about you was endearing to San. 

He smiled down at you after wiping your nose, mumbling, “Pretty girl.” You could feel your cheeks go red instantly, feeling like it was your first time having a crush all over again. 

He continued, his deep voice soft and sweet suddenly, “I could never hate you. Never, never,” he shook his head a bit, leaning in so that your foreheads were pressed together, “what I read only surprised me, but it would never make me hate you. So, don’t apologize for liking me. I like you, too.”

You swore your heart skipped a beat as he said that. In fact, it seemed like cardiac arrest would be the next step if he didn’t stop looking at you with those soft eyes.

“Never knew you had such a dirty mind,” he teased, rubbing your arm with his free hand gently.

And just like that, your eyebrows furrowed again and you hit his arm gently, too embarrassed to be sappy for long.

“Stop that! It’s not good to hold in all your thoughts, you know. You should write your feelings down,” you scolded, face bright red and lips pouting. San took the scolding at first, but it wasn’t much use. He was too focused on how cute your face looked all scrunched up. 

And, he couldn’t deny it. Being scolded was pretty hot.

“There you go again,” San interrupted, sighing playfully. He couldn’t help but tease. You stopped mid-sentence, unsure of what you were even scolding him about now.

“Hm? What?” you asked softly, a little pout remaining on your lips.

San giggled a little, his eyes squeezing shut as he threw his head back. It was just too much fun for him. He leaned in closer to your face, close enough that your noses nearly met in the middle, whispering, “You’re too busy being angry to let me give you a taste of me.”

That cocky bastard. Cocky, and teasing, and sexy…

Your eyebrows quirked up and your cheeks burned even hotter as he leaned in closer, his mouth just next to your ear. 

“That’s what you wanted, right? What you wrote in your diary… ahem, journal,” he whispered, need dripping from his words. 

And yet, you were too embarrassed to speak. Or, maybe flustered was the right word. Either way, your brain didn’t quite work when San teased you normally, and especially not when his hands traveled to your waist, thumbs pressing into you gently.

“W-well, yes, but it was just a fantasy! I was just imagining! If you read more, you’d see I wrote about celebrities also…” you stammered, your hands searching for a place to rest along with your eyes. 

“Oh, so you’re saying I’m not special?” San asked, biting his lip to hold back a cocky smile.

You gasped a little, hands instinctively finding San’s firm chest, “No, no! I just meant, just,” you panicked a bit, somehow losing your words yet again as San put his hands over yours.

“So, I am special? Am I special enough to have a taste of you?” San asked softly, still teasing, though there was an undercurrent of seriousness in his voice, something like an invitation.

“I don’t know if it’s a good idea, Sannie… What would Eunbi think?” You ask softly, eyes round and full of worry. Unintentionally, you leaned further into San’s chest, prompting him to pull you into a hug. He cradled the back of your head, petting your hair softly.

“She doesn’t have to know yet. And you can always say no, baby. I know I tease you a lot, but it’s just because you’re so cute when you’re worked up. We can take things slow if you want. It’s just that journal entry… it made me…” San trailed off towards the end, his own cheeks getting pink now.

Softly, you reached up and ran your fingers through San’s hair, finally offering him a big smile, “Look at you blushing now.”

San blew a bit of air out of his nose, suppressing a shy laugh. “How couldn’t I blush? The thought of you wanting me that way…” He trailed off again, voice high and squeaky now that he was being teased. He pulled you close and buried his face in your neck, letting his lips place a soft kiss before he continued.

“I want to hear you say it, angel. Tell me I’m special and it’s more than just a fantasy. Tell me how you want me,” he mumbled into your neck, using every ounce of self restraint to stop himself from kissing it again.

And, in that moment, months of yearning for, pining over, and wanting San in every way came back to you. Your heart ached a bit, and so did the space between your legs. Everything you had imagined and told yourself was just a dream was coming true. It was true that it would be difficult to hide this whole thing considering Eunbi could read you like a book, but you couldn’t let this opportunity go.

“God, San, I want you in every way possible,” you breathed out, tilting your head back to give him better access to your neck. As soon as you did, he latched on to it, sucking a small bruise into it. You trembled a little, involuntarily letting a tiny whimper cross your lips as you whispered, “But I really need you to fuck me right now.”

“That’s all I need to hear, baby. Here,” he murmured, detaching himself from you quickly. He swiftly switched spots with you, leaving the booth seat and pulling you to the edge of it. He kneeled in front of you, one hand on your thigh and the other gripping the table still. Pushing the table towards the other side of the booth, San ran his hands up and down your thighs, eyes pleading and lust filled. “It’s alright if I taste you?”

“Please, need it so bad, Sannie,” you pleaded as he slowly undid your jeans, pulling them off your legs along with your panties in one fatal swoop. You were already dripping onto the seat and he hadn’t even touched you yet. 

San pressed gentle kisses up your bare thighs, using a thumb to rub gentle circles into your clit. You gripped the top of the seat, already feeling a pulsing need in your heat as San’s mouth inched closer to it. His breath tickled the area, making your squirm, but what was worse was the look in his eyes. He stopped just in front of your cunt and looked up at you with dark, lustful eyes. In that moment, you understood San wanted this just as much as you did.

It was true. San couldn’t even recount the amount of times he pumped his fist in bed or in the shower thinking about you and your sweet pussy. And as much as it made him blush just thinking about it, he wanted nothing more in life than to bury his face in between your thighs some days, making you squirm and hearing what noises he could pull out of you. He wanted to have you, to know you on a deeper level. And what was more intimate than knowing the way a person tastes?

“Pretty,” he murmured into his direct line to heaven, his nose nudging your clit 

gently. A long, hot stripe was licked up your pussy, making you twitch expectantly. Instantly, your mind began to grow foggy and your hips bucked, San whispering, “It’s alright, just relax, baby.”

And so, you did. You let your torso fall all the way back against the booth seat and your fingers tangle in his hair, a soft grunt leaving him as he dove in deeper. His tongue swirled around your entrance, dipping inside every once in a while as a quiet hum vibrated against you. He kept up his agonizingly slow pace on your clit with his thumb, savoring that way you tasted on his tongue.

Soon, though, San needed more of you. He needed to see you squirm more, hear you moan just for him. He pulled you even closer to the edge of the booth, another grunt leaving him as he had to pull his face away for a moment. He hoisted your legs up onto his broad shoulders, instantly attaching his lips to your clit, kissing it softly before sucking it. 

A thick finger found its way inside of you, knuckle deep and wriggling. You squirmed, unable to hold back your noises. Even with just one finger, he filled you up better than you’d ever been before. He added a second finger a moment later, getting familiar with your body inside and out. Scissoring his fingers, he stretched your pussy out, mumbling something about how perfect it was.

“Fuck, San, even your fingers are big,” you slurred, back arching up in the air. San answered with another hum against your pussy, one you could tell was a shy giggle. He curled his fingers, letting his lips pulse around your clit now that he could tell you would finish soon. He slowed his pace down for a second, lifting his head to look up at you.

“You wanna cum? Want Sannie to make you cum?” He asked with a condescending pout, mirroring the one on your own lips. You nodded fervently, but it wasn’t enough for San.

“Gotta hear you say it, angel,” He furthered, eyes darkening as he held back another sly smile. You whined, kicking your legs gently. San tutted, swatting your thigh gently, “Don’t be so stubborn. Just tell Sannie.”

“Please, San, make me cum. Wanna cum all over your tongue,” you relented, hips bucking back up towards San’s face, nudging his chin against your clit. San cooed gently before diving back in. Lapping at your hole, he circled your clit relentlessly with his thumb. He wasn’t going to let you cum anywhere but his tongue.

It didn’t take long for you to do just what you’d asked for. Suddenly, your entire body began to tingle, radiating from the place between your thighs. Your toes curled and your knees tried to squeeze together, locking San’s head in place so that he could lap up every last bit of your essence that was flowing out of you. He made sure he got every last bit, taking his time to lick and kiss every last part of your slick, throbbing cunt.

Eventually, he pried your legs open and helped you sit up, smiling hard at your flushed out face. He swiped his chin with his thumb, bringing it up to his lips before licking off that last bit of you. He sighed, “Could live in that little hole forever, baby.”

You blushed gently, turning away from him shyly, prompting him to sit next to you. He grabbed you by your waist, pulling you onto his lap so your back was flush against his chest. “Hey, you can’t get all shy on me now. Where’s the feisty girl I know, hm?”

“How could I be mean after you just did that to me,” you pouted, making San laugh. 

“You’re always mean to me,” he told you dramatically, grabbing your chin and turning your face towards his. Carefully, he grinded his hips up so that you could feel how hard he was. And he was. Just the taste of you had San throbbing, and the only reason he let you cum so quickly was so that he didn’t cum in his own pants. 

You gasped softly, feeling San’s cock pulsing against your ass, then again when his thick fingers began circling your clit again. He rested his chin on your shoulder, speaking so softly into your ear, “And what’s really mean is how you made me so hard, I almost came from how good you tasted. You wouldn’t leave me like this, right, baby?”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes and turning around in San’s lap. His hands went straight to your ass, cupping it and pulling you down to grind against the tent in his pants. Your eyebrows furrowed gently as your hips moved back and forth on him, concentrated huffs falling from your tongue.

“Greedy girl,” he teased, nudging your jaw with the side of his head gently, “you want my cock in you?”

You nodded, pouting at him, “Please, San. Need you in me bad.”

San just laughed, guiding your hands to unzip his pants. He lowered his voice, looking down at where your crotches met, “Alright, you can have it. But, you gotta do the work now. You really tired me out there before.”

You whined again, this time out of pure exhilaration. Wasting no time, you unzipped San’s fly, yanking down his pants and boxers as best as you could. His cock sprung out, hard and red, begging you to take it.

But first, you giggled mischievously as you gave it a few pumps, enjoying its weight in your hand. San groaned, throwing his head back and cursing under his breath. It didn’t take long for him to grow impatient. He grabbed your waist and guided you to sit up better, right above his manhood.

You moved your hips around just to antagonize San as he’d done to you so many times. He let out a frustrated groan, burying his face against your neck yet again, kissing it softly as he pleaded, “Cmon, baby, don’t make me crazy here.”

“Wanted this for so long, Sannie,” you breathed out as you finally sunk down on him, his hips thrusting up to meet yours. San chuckled, pushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

“I know, baby, read all about it,” he smirked, that smug look on his face melting into a lovesick smile as you swatted at his chest. He couldn’t help but suck another bruise into the side of your neck before chiding, “Just teasing you, been thinkin’ about this for a while, too.”

He rutted up into you, hungry and needy, filling your slick heat completely. Your body twitched with each thrust, languid and deep, San’s silent confession. He was savoring his meal, taking it slowly and enjoying it wholly.

The only sound in the room was that of skin on skin, San’s hips snapping up into yours. He knew just the spot to hit inside of you. You cried out in pleasure, prompting San to speed up. The two of you, hungry and desperate to cum, moved together in a near perfect harmony. 

“Fuck, this pussy was made for me,” San stuttered, trying to keep himself inside you, but it was hard with your bouncing and his thrusts, not to mention the wetness you spilled each time he left your body for a moment. San grunted in your ear, biting down on your shoulder a moment later. He was close. It didn’t help that everytime he thrusted up into you, you let out the sweetest sounds. San wanted to listen to them all the time, but even the thought of doing this again with you made him harder. 

Honestly, his cock kept getting harder with each second it spent inside you. You were so warm, so tight. San was normally a patient man, but it was hard to take his time with you.

You couldn’t be helped either. As soon as he sunk his teeth into you, you came all over him. Wetness poured out of your cunt, coating San as you cried out his name. He followed suit soon afterwards, pulling out and cumming on your thigh. Quickly, San pulled you into a hug, still heaving as a big hand came up to cradle your head. 

For a few minutes, the two of you sat together, your form still tucked into San’s warm embrace as he rocked you back and forth. You both tried to regain your breath, but every little touch made either one of you gasp softly before you turned your head the other way, embarrassingly lovesick. 

San was warm, physically and figuratively. Sweat dripped off his forehead and fell onto yours, but you couldn’t care less if it meant being held by him. It was strong, secure, surreal… it was everything you had written about before. There were days when all you needed was a firm hug, to be held without the fear of falling, somewhere warm and safe. San was all of that, and you could feel it now. It wasn’t just something you wrote about anymore. It was real.

San noticed the face you made when you were thinking and his heart rate picked up. Was it not good? Did he disappoint you? He nudged your head with his shoulder, pouting, “What’s wrong? Was it not good?”

“What? No! It was amazing, I just… I like you a lot. And I like that I don’t have to imagine things anymore… Well, that is if you want to continue this,” you trailed off, blabbering embarrassedly. Maybe all he wanted was a hookup. Uneasiness settled into your features while amusement settled into San’s.

“Silly girl,” he scoffed, enamored by everything you were, “Do you want to be my girlfriend?”

Your eyebrows shot up and your heart fluttered. You were never one to get so worked up so easily, but San had a way of making it happen. You cleared your throat, trying to regain some composure.

“Do you want to be my boyfriend?” you mirrored, acting coy now. San cupped your face, dimples on full display as he smiled at you, meeting your gaze. He leaned in and gave you his first real kiss of the night. Your lips molded together perfectly, San’s tongue swiping across your lower lip occasionally. You felt his warm cheeks against yours, which made you giggle sweetly. San’s heart melted.

The boy pulled away a moment later, letting his forehead rest against yours, “Does that answer your question, baby?”

You snorted in response, shaking your head bashfully. You wanted to hear him say it. San rolled his eyes in response, his hands moving down your back to rest on either side of your ass. Still, he smiled and whispered, “Yes, I want to be your boyfriend.”

You sighed sweetly, unable to hold back the big smile on your face. San delivered a little spank to your ass, playful and teasing, “Happy now?”

You nodded, allowing a little squeal of excitement to leave you. “Very happy, Sannie. Very happy,” you whispered back, laying your head on his shoulder to look around the dark diner. 

Just then, your eyes spotted a little red light up in the corner of the diner, seemingly connected to a security camera. You jumped, whisper yelling at San, “Fuck! Fuck, the cameras, San!”

San jumped as soon as you did, following your gaze up to the security camera. He mirrored your panic for just a moment before pulling you further into the booth, pulling his jacket off to cover up your still bare bottom half. 

And just as you thought you were going to have a heart attack, San laughed, and somehow, the uneasiness melted away. He ruffled your hair playfully, moving you off his lap and onto the seat before zipping his pants back up. He stood up, leaning down to your level, “I'll go take care of it, honey. Just clean up and get dressed. And finish your shake,” he told you, motioning to the table where your half empty, half melted chocolate shake sat.

But as soon as he turned around, he turned back and pressed a chaste kiss to your lips before scurrying off to the office, ready to delete the footage. You couldn’t help but smile knowing San would take care of it. What a dream boy.

[vktrjyce]

tell me that i'm what you need

a jayvik college au

length: 6.8k

author's note: them in a college au has been rotting in my brain since I finished act 3, and i had to write it. it's completely self-indulgent and i understand that and i do not apologize. i have TONS more ideas for this so if it gets enough traction maybe i'll write more LMAOOO. jayvik has their hooks in me good you guys. anyways, thanks so much for reading!! i hope you enjoyed it, and feel free to leave likes and comments! i'd love to hear any feedback or thoughts :) have a great day!!

there is also a playlist that goes along with this fic!

tags: college party ; weed smoking ; trans viktor ; sub jayce talis ; dom viktor ; college au ; shotgunning ; making out ; sexuality crisis ; first meeting ; viktor is hot and confident and jayce loves it ; they're both idiots

warnings: sexual content, weed smoking

summary: Jayce goes to a party with Caitlyn and gets more than he bargained for when he meets a handsome stranger in the basement.

originally posted by vktrjyce

Jayce followed Caitlyn into the overflowing house, wincing at the music pounding against his skull. Three different people bumped into him in the foyer alone, the third spilling an obscene amount of beer on his shoes. He grimaced, waved away the guy’s half-assed apology, and attempted to adjust to the stickiness. It felt a little like he’d surpassed his age of enjoying parties like this. Or maybe he simply needed to be with the right crowd. 

This did not feel like his crowd. 

“Cait!” He shouted over the music, grabbing his companion’s arm. She turned to him with a raised eyebrow, “This is really how you want to spend your Friday night?” 

She pressed her lips into a thin line and leaned towards him, “Vi invited me! I couldn’t exactly say no.” 

He overdramatically rolled his eyes, a knowing smile on his face, “So your girlfriend’s the partying type?” 

Caitlyn’s own eyes widened, her cheeks going slightly pink, “She’s not my girlfriend! Yet…” She shook her head, dark blue strands swaying back and forth, “And her sister threw this party. She’s just along for the ride.” 

“Mmhmm.” Jayce scanned the crowd, looking for a head of hot-pink hair he’d only heard about in stories, “So, where is she?” 

“I don’t know. I can’t see her from he-” 

“Cupcake!” A muscled arm landed on Caitlyn’s shoulders, simultaneously knocking her into Jayce’s side. The owner of said arm had the exact hair he’d been on the lookout for. Also, the ‘Vi’ tattooed on her face was sort of a dead giveaway, “I was beginning to think you weren’t coming.” 

Caitlyn looked over at Vi, a pleasant smile sliding across her face. She leaned into the woman, “What, and leave you to your own devices? I can only imagine the chaos that would ensue.” 

“You think so low of me. I’m hurt.” Vi teased, before her eyes landed on Jayce, “Who’s this?” 

Caitlyn answered before he had a chance to, “This is Jayce Talis. I’ve told you about him.” 

Jayce, in turn, offered a polite smile and a small wave. 

“So, this is the brainiac?” Vi gave him a once-over, pursing her lips, “Quite the pretty boy, isn’t he?” 

He choked out a slightly embarrassed chuckle, resisting the urge to rub at the back of his neck. His Mother always scolded him for having such an obvious nervous tick. 

“Don’t say that, it’ll go right to his head.” Cait retorted, giving her friend a knowing look, “And it’s big enough already.” 

The man barked out a laugh, “There’s better ways to show off than making fun of me, you know.” 

Once again, her eyes widened, “I wasn’t-” 

“Aww, are you trying to seduce me with your stuck-upness?” Vi cooed, pinching Caitlyn’s cheek. Though she scrunched up her nose, she didn’t pull away from the touch, “If you are, it’s working.” 

“You’re an idiot.” She deadpanned, and then looked back at Jayce, “You both are.” 

“I guess you attract them.” He winked at her. 

“I like this guy. He’s not all prude and stiff like most of the people you introduce me to.” Vi commented, grinning, “We could have some fun together, pretty boy.” 

“The feeling’s mutual, Vi.” 

“I don’t know, the thought of you two together doesn’t sit well with me.” Caitlyn piped up, “And I absolutely do not want to be demoted to third-wheel.” 

“I don’t think you’ll need to worry about that.” Jayce gave her a knowing look, sending her gaze to the floor. So he turned it on Vi. She smirked in response. 

“You guys want a drink? The kitchen’s stocked with all kinds of stuff.” She offered, pulling Caitlyn closer to her.

“I wouldn’t mind a drink.” His friend responded. She looked at Jayce with a warning on her face. He was no longer welcome in the group. 

He heard her loud and clear. 

“You guys go ahead, I’m gonna go mingle for a bit.” He told them, taking a step back, “We’ll meet back up later.” 

Caitlyn’s look turned grateful, eyes sparkling in the strobe lights. Vi nodded at his declaration. 

“Alright, see you later, then.” She bid him adieu, turning Caitlyn (presumably) towards the kitchen. 

As they walked away, he heard his friend ask, “Where’s Jinx?” 

“Somewhere causing problems, probably. I think she was trying to make fireworks or something.” Vi’s response came, and then they were out of earshot. And Jayce was all alone. 

He shifted his weight, patted his hands against his pants, and then decided he should do something. Something other than standing in the middle of this room. Watching the party go on without him. Like a loser. 

He sucked in a deep breath and moved further into the house. 

People were dancing, mingling, playing games, and making out on practically every available surface. He could only imagine what others were getting up to in the non-public spaces. He’d had his own fair share of trysts in his younger days. Now, though, he much preferred a quiet night in or hyperfocusing on a new project. Cait always teased him for ‘turning into an old man.’ 

Maybe she had a point. Just a little bit. 

It took Jayce a 10-minute conversation with Salo and another 15 minutes of standing against a wall before the noise and the lights became too much. He was uncomfortable, on his way to overstimulated, and in desperate need of a small respite. So he went looking for one. 

All the bedrooms were… occupied. The bathroom, when not occupied, was more of a cesspool of untoward activity than a sanctuary. The backyard was just as loud as anywhere else. All that left him with was the closed basement door. Which had an eccentric, bright pink ‘Stay Out!!!’ spray-painted on it. 

He did feel bad about ignoring the warning, but desperate times called for desperate measures. 

Jayce opened the door, stepped inside, and shut it behind him. The immediate quiet, even with the muffled music through the wall, sent relief through his body. He sighed and walked down the stairs. About halfway down, a familiar skunk-like smell wafted its way up to him. But since he’d already committed, he simply wrinkled his nose and kept going. 

He stepped off the final stair, turned the corner, and took a look around the room. 

It was a typical basement- a couple of couches, a TV, a coffee table, and various movie and show posters on the walls. The lights were off, save for a warm-colored lamp on the table. None of it was out of the ordinary. Nothing particularly caught his eye. 

What did gain his attention, though, was the man on the couch. 

Pale and lanky, long brown hair with strands of blonde pulled into a low bun, clad in a burgundy cardigan and black sweats with a leg brace on the right knee. Only his side profile was visible from here, showing off a long nose and sharp cheekbones. A beauty mark sat above his thin, pink lips, which were currently wrapped around a half-smoked joint. His long lashes fluttered closed as he inhaled, pulled the joint from his mouth, and laid his head back against the couch. One long finger tapped against it. 

Jayce was, for one moment, very taken aback. If this guy was a girl, he’d be stunning.

“Uh-” He grunted out, like an idiot. 

The man’s eye opened, iris sliding in his direction. No other part of him moved. He exhaled the smoke and closed his eye again, “The bathroom is upstairs, on the second level. At the end of the hall.” 

As if this stranger’s looks weren’t enough of a shock, his words came out accented. It sounded Russian, or maybe Czech. It made him sound melodic, like voicing an elegant song instead of speaking. Jayce found himself wanting to hear more. 

“Oh, no, I, uh-” Jayce cleared his throat, then tried again, “Sorry, I was actually just trying to find a quiet place for a minute. All the noise was… it was a little much.” 

The man’s eyes opened again, and this time he turned his head towards Jayce. The latter discovered two distinct things at that moment. 

One, he had another beauty mark. Under his right eye, lighter than the one above his mouth. 

Two, the attractiveness increased tenfold when he saw his whole face. A few strands of his hair had fallen out of the bun and framed his face. Seriously, he could be a model or something.

The stranger raised a thick, dark eyebrow, “Why come to a party if the party is going to be ‘a little much’?” 

“Well, that’s not-” He scoffed, rubbing a hand over his jaw, “I didn’t- I came with a friend, so.” 

Piercing golden eyes watched him with mild curiosity, “And where is your friend now?” 

“She’s with her- you know what? It doesn’t matter.” Jayce shook his head, feeling a little disgruntled, “You’re the one hiding down here all by yourself.” 

“Well, I live here. I can’t exactly escape the party.” He explained, tilting his head from side to side, “This was supposed to be my safe haven.” 

Jayce ignored the last part, partly out of stubbornness, and responded with a question, “You live here? I thought Vi’s sister was the host.” 

“Jinx.” The man explained, looking away. It gave Jayce a chance to take a deep breath. He felt like a bug under a magnifying glass with those eyes on him, “And she is. She’s my roommate. One of them.” 

“Jinx? What kind of a name is that?” He chuckled. 

There was no response. Only a noncommittal shrug as he lifted the joint to his lips once again. A motion by which Jayce found himself hypnotized. The slender fingers holding it, the way his lips pursed as he inhaled, the twitching of his eyelids. It looked so natural- as simple as breathing. He was so caught up in it that he didn’t realize the man’s gaze was on him again. 

“Do you want some?” He asked, jolting Jayce out of his trance and offering the weed up. 

He could feel his face heating up, both from being caught staring and from the offer. He’d had weed a couple of times in the past, but it never ended well. Whether it be not knowing his own limits or peer pressure, he always went too far and got too anxious to enjoy it. He was open to it, but that didn’t stop him from feeling nervous. A familiar emotion right now. 

“Oh, I uh- I wouldn’t want to intrude.” 

The man smiled, just a small thing, but it made a certain softness take over his face, “A little late for that, no?” 

His cheeks were sure to be bright red now. He laughed nervously. 

The good-looking stranger shook his head, gesturing for Jayce to come closer, “I’m joking. Come. The company might be nice.” 

“Are you sure?” The question came out hesitant, but he was already moving over to the couch. Something about the way this guy spoke made him feel compelled to listen.

However, that could be the sleep deprivation talking. Or he’d finally lost it. Both were possibilities. 

“I find you… intriguing.” His new acquaintance told him, watching as he sat on the opposite side of the couch, “Besides, you said you needed a moment of quiet.” 

“I guess that’s true.” He shrugged, “Thanks. I appreciate it.” 

“Mm.” Humming, he offered the joint to Jayce once again. This time, he took it. 

It was only then that he realized there was a cane resting next to the man. Silver with a red and gold handle, decorated with graffiti that matched the ‘keep out’ sign on the door. He wondered if it was the stranger’s doing, but that felt unlikely. It didn’t seem like his style. 

Jayce took a drag, forcing himself not to cough as the marijuana burned all the way down. He really was not used to this sensation. The only thing worse than the burn, though, would be looking like a fool in front of this interesting guy he’d just met. He had to play it cool. 

God, he was such a loser. 

“You’re supposed to exhale it, you know.” The man spoke up, amusement lacing that magnetizing accent. It was just shy of patronizing, which strangely made his stomach coil.

This entire interaction was making Jayce’s head spin a little bit. 

He let the smoke out in one quick breath, which immediately sent him into a coughing fit. He hunched over himself, hitting a fist against his chest in an attempt to clear the pipe. He didn’t think this could get any worse. Either the humiliation or the coughing would kill him. A death that he’d happily embrace. 

“There, there. Easy.” A hand rested on his back, lithe fingers rubbing into the muscles, “You haven’t smoked much, I see.” 

Jayce barely noticed the hand on him, too preoccupied with trying not to die. He shook his head, letting out a hoarse, “Not really.” 

“Here.” The joint was taken from his hand and replaced with a glass of water, “Drink.” 

He didn’t hesitate to chug half of it. Then he slumped back against the couch, eyes closed as he took a few deep breaths. The burn had subsided, leaving only a bit of irritation in his throat. At the very least, he’d stopped coughing. Small victories. 

“Are you alright?” 

Jayce looked over at the stranger- his savior, in a way- and froze. Those amber eyes were locked on him, rimmed with red, and hungry. That feeling in his chest tightened, making him feel on edge. 

He swallowed, “Yeah. Yeah, uh, sorry. I don’t- I’m sorta new to this.” 

The man tucked some hair behind his ear and laid his arm over the back of the couch. His hand was only a few inches away from Jayce’s face. 

“Was this your first time?” 

“No.” He shook his head, “I’ve done it a couple times before. Just… not in a while.” 

“I see.” He picked at a loose thread sticking out of the cushion, “Did you enjoy it? In the past?” 

Jayce’s mind was starting to feel foggy. He pursed his lips, “It wasn’t bad. I think I just… I did too much too fast. Got in over my head.” 

“Mm, you seem like the type.” The man’s fingernails were painted black, the polish chipped, “To get in over your head, that is.” 

“Yeah?” He smiled lazily at his new friend, “What about you?” 

The man shook his head immediately, “Definitely not. I am always calm and collected. Just don’t ask anyone close to me for a second opinion on that.” 

That made him laugh. He laid a hand over his stomach, head tilted back. When he looked back at the stranger, still chuckling, there was something close to admiration on the guy’s face. Again, his stomach did a flip. What a strange way this night was going. 

“What’s your name?” He asked, voice deeper and accent more prominent. 

“Jayce.” He responded, “Jayce Talis. You?” 

“Viktor.” The man told him, and it was perfect. He couldn’t think of a better-fitting name. 

“It’s nice to meet you. Even if I made a complete fool of myself with the weed.” 

Viktor snorted out a laugh, taking another hit from the joint. He made it look effortless, “Not at all. You’re new to it. I’ve been doing it for a long time.” 

“You never get sick of it?” 

“Never. It helps too much. With the, eh, pain. And, you know, it quiets the mind.” 

“Right.” He gestured to the leg brace, “I don’t wanna pry, but I assume that’s what you’re talking about.” 

“Well, there are worse ways to be nosy.” He responded, screwing up his lips, “You’d be right, though. It’s my bad leg. I was born with it.” 

“I’m sorry.” Jayce blurted, because he felt like an idiot. The weed definitely wasn’t helping with his stupidness, “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.” 

“If I didn’t want to, I wouldn’t.” 

He held his hands up in surrender, “Alright, that’s fair. I just don’t want you to feel pressured.” 

“My hero.” Viktor deadpanned, rolling his pretty eyes, “Can you feel it yet?” 

Jayce furrowed his brows, “Feel- oh, the weed?” 

The other man nodded in confirmation. 

“A little. I don’t think I had much, honestly.” 

“Do you want more?” 

“And have another coughing fit? I can’t take more embarrassment, Viktor.” 

He chuckled, “You’ll survive. And we can try another way to get it down for you.” 

“Another way? Like what?” 

Something mischievous had crossed over his face, which was slightly scary, “I believe most people call it, uh… shotgunning. Have you heard of it?” 

Jayce most definitely had. And the prospect was simultaneously intriguing and panic-inducing to him. 

Viktor was nice and funny, and he was good-looking. But shotgunning was sort of… an intimate thing? In a way? The kind of thing you did when you wanted to get up close and personal with someone? 

Was that what Viktor wanted? Was he coming onto Jayce? 

If he was, well, that was flattering. But Jayce wasn’t really… he’d done stuff with men before. The typical college, experimenting stuff. And it was fine- wasn’t terrible. But he didn’t think that was really… him. 

But he was also a little high. And spiraling. And he was having a good time with Viktor and he didn’t want it to end. 

So what the hell? Why not? What’s the worst that could happen?

“Yeah, I- I think I have.” He spoke, finally giving in and rubbing at the back of his neck, “We could give it a shot. If you want.” 

“Excellent.” Viktor patted the empty spot next to him, “Come.” 

Jayce followed the order with no hesitation. Like a dog obeying the commands of his master. Something about it made the other man’s eyes light up, much to his confusion. 

“So, how are we-” 

He didn’t get the chance to finish his sentence. The words were cut off as Viktor slid onto his legs, seating himself right on Jayce’s lap. It sent his brain, his heart, his whole body into overdrive. It didn’t even occur to him to move him, though. He was too busy trying to remember how to breathe. Not necessarily in a bad way, but definitely slightly unnerving.

Friends could do stuff like this, right? 

Did Jayce even want to just be friends? Was there something more here? 

Viktor smelled like weed, cinnamon, and old paper. It drew him in with every breath.

Jayce, even with his sluggish mind, was coming to a semi-realization. While he couldn’t be sure how true it would feel in the light of day, it felt true now. Which could mean tons of things, honestly. 

Jayce was realizing that he liked this feeling. He liked the buzzing under his skin, the fogginess behind his eyes. He liked the weight of Viktor on him, liked the smell of Viktor, liked Viktor. Something about him was just so magnetizing. It made him nervous. This whole thing did. But he found that he didn’t really mind it. 

This was surely a crisis in the making. Something to be dealt with and reflected on in the sober light of day. He could analyze every move, second-guess every word and every reaction. He could take the time to nitpick his feelings until everything was clear. But right now, that didn’t matter. 

Right now, he felt good. And he wanted to keep doing what felt good. That should be simple enough. 

He nodded to himself. Literally. He probably looked like a freak to his companion. If he did, he garnered no reaction. 

“Open your mouth,” Viktor told him, raising the joint to his lips. 

Fuck. A cacophony of not-appropriate things flitted through his mind in reaction to the words. Not on purpose.

“Wait-” He heard himself saying, which was the opposite of what his heart (and his dick) wanted him to do. Apparently, his head still had the wheel. 

Jayce rested his hands on Viktor’s hips to stop him. Even through the thick cardigan, the latter’s hip bones were prominent. It made something twist unhappily in Jayce’s chest. 

Viktor did wait, pausing with a raised eyebrow and the weed an inch or two from his mouth. 

“A-are you okay like this?” Jayce stuttered out, looking up at the star of his current dilemma, “Your leg-” 

The questioning look on Viktor’s face turned to amusement, and he tilted his head, “That’s what you’re worried about? You idiot.” 

The word didn’t even sting like it would’ve from anyone else. It sounded like an endearment more than anything. 

“My leg is fine.” He hummed, resting a hand on Jayce’s shoulder. The weight was nice, soothing, “I’ve lived with it all my life. I know what I can handle.” 

Did weed have some sort of magical attraction properties? The sensation in his chest certainly felt like something out of a fairytale. 

“Okay.” Jayce exhaled shakily- again, not on purpose, “Okay. I just wanted to check.” 

“How kind of you.” That hand left his arm, coming back a moment later as Viktor grabbed his chin. He squeezed lightly, causing Jayce’s lips to pucker, “Are you ready?” 

Jayce nodded eagerly, giggling. Any harder and his head probably would’ve snapped off. 

Viktor gave him a look of approval that made his lungs ache, “Inhale when I exhale. Yes?” 

He swallowed, “Yes.” 

The man half-smiled, gave him a little nod, and took a long drag. It looked so easy, so beautiful, when he did it. Which was a strange thing to think. A strange action to find beautiful. But it was, nevertheless. 

Jayce parted his lips when Viktor lowered his hand, watching with expectant eyes as the man leaned toward him. Their noses brushed, sending a tingle through his skin. His breath hitched, and then the smoke was blown into his mouth. He closed his eyes and inhaled. 

It burned again, but he loved it this time. It filled his chest, his brain, left him feeling a little weightless. 

There was no coughing when he exhaled. Only the relief of subsided stinging, the warmth of Viktor against him. His nerves began to hum from his head to his toes. 

He was pretty sure he understood what all the hype was about now. Why the drug was so popular. 

But then again, that could all be because of Viktor. 

Viktor, Viktor, Viktor.

“So beautiful.” He heard his companion say, and there was a thumb brushing over his bottom lip. 

Jayce blinked his eyes open. It was harder than usual. Everything felt a little sluggish. 

Viktor was watching him. The whites of his starlight eyes were red, his gaze half-lidded, and that hunger was back. He looked like a cat on the prowl. Stalking its prey. 

Jayce had never been so pleased to feel like a cornered mouse. 

“Do you like men, Jayce?” 

“Do I-?” The question echoed his own thoughts bouncing around his mind. It sent a strike of panic through him, slightly dampened by the drug in his veins. He didn’t really have an answer for him. This night had brought up a lot of feelings on that exact topic, and most of them were muddy. It was terrifying, “I don’t… I’m not really sure, Viktor.” 

“Allow me to rephrase my question, then.” He hummed, and he was back to brushing his fingers over Jayce’s face. His lips, cheeks, nose, the space between his eyebrows, “Do you want to kiss me?” 

This question was much simpler. But it wasn’t much easier to answer.

He really liked Viktor. He was drawn to him like a moth to a flame. Viktor was funny and he had a nice accent and his face was- honestly, the only word that came to mind was beautiful. He’d never found a man beautiful before. 

Jayce wanted the answer to be easy. He wanted it to come to him like a reflex. But he was scared. The fear was holding him back. 

He tried to remind himself of the vow he’d made only a bit ago. Analyze emotions later, do what feels good now. 

If Viktor was a woman, Jayce knew what his answer would be. And that should be enough for now. He met Viktor’s gaze once more.

“Yes.” He whispered. It felt a little like signing his death sentence. 

“Go on, then.” Their noses were touching again. Viktor’s skin was cold on his. Or maybe Jayce’s was just unusually hot. 

“You want me to?” Jayce was over-thinking. As he, clearly, had a tendency to do. But some part of him felt like this was all a prank, or a dream. Surely, the moment he leaned forward it would all go up in a cloud of smoke. 

“Take what you want, Jayce.” His voice was lower, deeper. The words curled with his accent, like music notes drifting through the air, “Hesitate, and the opportunity will slip through your fingers.”

That was all the push he needed. 

He kissed Viktor. Slowly at first, awkwardly. He was giggling again, mostly out of nervousness. Jayce had experience in kissing- 95% of it was with women. And this was different. 

He’d lean forward and end up squishing their noses together. Let out a chuckle, re-adjust, try again. Their teeth clacked together on the next kiss, a jarring sensation that made them both flinch. Still, they were smiling and touching and going for more. Jayce tried to kiss him and missed, planting a smooch right on his chin. 

“Shit-” He snickered, pulling away. His cheeks were red-hot, “Sorry, sorry.” 

“Don’t be. And don’t be nervous.” Viktor’s eyes crinkled a little as he smiled, “We’re in no rush.” 

“Yeah. Yeah, you’re right. Okay.” He took a stabilizing breath, half-grinning, “Can I try again?” 

“I’d be offended if you didn’t.” 

Jayce laughed and kissed him again. A little more sure this time, but just as sloppy. He leaned up off the couch, pressing his hand into the small of Viktor’s lower back. Needing him closer, closer, closer. His lips tasted like raspberries. 

Viktor’s fingers tangled into Jayce’s hair, keeping his head right where he wanted. He kissed him like he was a master at it, like it was something he’d done a million times. It made Jayce feel very, very inadequate. 

He nipped at Jayce’s bottom lip, pulled back enough that Jayce had to chase him for more, then plunged right back in. A gentle tug on the locks in Viktor’s hands had Jayce’s mouth falling open. Viktor’s tongue slipped inside a moment later. One of his hands came to rest on Viktor’s face, thumb brushing over that sharp cheekbone. He allowed himself to be manhandled- let Viktor use his mouth as he pleased. He couldn’t stop fucking smiling. 

“There we go, you’re getting the hang of it,” Viktor murmured against his lips. His kisses moved to Jayce’s chin, mouthing along his jawline, “So eager, too. Like a puppy. Will you wag your tail if I call you a good boy?” 

He wanted to be embarrassed about the comparison. Wanted to not like the insinuation as much as he did. Mostly, though, he just wanted more Viktor. 

“Fuck.” He breathed, tilting his head back to give the other man more access. His pants were starting to strain a little bit. 

“I think that’s a yes.” He whispered, his breath sending goosebumps across Jayce’s skin. 

Viktor’s kisses moved up, up, up, until he was nibbling on Jayce’s earlobe. He gave it one sharp tug. 

And Jayce fucking whimpered. 

He’d never made that noise before. He didn’t even know he could make that noise. It definitely didn’t sound like something that would’ve come out of him. But it had. His face was on fire. 

“Oh, you like that?” Viktor practically purred. He pulled away to look at Jayce, and his hazy eyes widened a bit, “You didn’t know you liked that.” 

“No, I-” He swallowed, shifting a little in his seat, “I didn’t mean to make that… noise.” 

As if his inexperience wasn’t bad enough, now he was making sounds that could only be labeled as pathetic. Viktor must have thought he was such an idiot. 

The man frowned, pink lips forming an adorable pout, “I put work into getting that noise from you. I’d appreciate if you didn’t try to downplay it.” 

Jayce blinked up at him, “You liked it?” 

Viktor stared at him like he was an idiot. Jayce could only focus on how pretty he was like that. 

“Kiss me again?” He pleaded, because the way his head was already spinning wasn’t enough. He needed more. 

His companion was happy to oblige. 

The kiss was back to passionate and sloppy, all tongue and teeth and wandering hands. Jayce’s shirt got halfway unbuttoned, Viktor’s hair was let down, and the forgotten cup of water was kicked onto the carpet. Neither of them noticed, or maybe they didn’t care. Too caught up in each other to remember there was a whole world around them. 

They’d fallen into a rhythm, moving together like partners in a dance. It was euphoric.

“Shit-” Jayce moaned, eyes rolled back as the other man sucked at his neck. 

Viktor ran his tongue down Jayce’s pulse point, kissed the spot right above his collarbone, and then bit down. Hard. 

Jayce hissed at the sting, then grunted as it immediately turned into pleasure. All of his blood had gone South. His head was blissfully empty. Had he ever felt so needy in his life? If he had, he definitely couldn’t remember it. 

Viktor slid his hands down Jayce’s arms, interlocking them with the ones still on his waist. His fingers were slender against Jayce’s, bony and long while the other’s were thick and strong. They fit together perfectly.

Viktor kissed him again, then again. Little pecks that left him desperate for more. 

“Had enough yet?” He asked through the kisses, his lips swollen and red, “Perhaps you should return to the- mm- party. If you’ve had your moment of quiet.”

“Trying to get rid of me?” Jayce asked, his breathing ragged. The question was asked jokingly, but it made his chest ache. Maybe he was doing terribly- maybe this wasn’t as good for Viktor as it was for him. He squeezed Viktor’s hands, still clasped in his own, “And here I thought we were having such a good time.”

“Whatever gave you that idea?” He shot back, attempting to hide the amused smile on his lips. He certainly thought himself funny. It made Jayce’s fear die down, just a little, “Be a good boy and lay me down. I need to rest my leg.”

The nickname went straight to his dick. It also made him sit there for a solid five seconds like an idiot as his mind tried to process the words. Then he did, and it immediately had his heart lunging with worry. 

“Does it hurt?” Jayce asked earnestly, hooking his hands under Viktor’s thighs to lay him down on the couch. He knelt in between the man’s legs, the right one stretched out and relaxed. 

Viktor let out a relieved sigh as he settled into the couch, “It was starting to pinch. Nothing too bad, don’t worry.” 

“Are you sure?” Jayce asked softly, one hand holding him up while the other held Viktor’s hip. He watched the man closely, worriedly, “We can stop if-” 

“Do you want to stop?” 

“No!” He choked out, dark strands falling over his forehead. The answer came out faster than his mind could keep up. Complete instinct. He furrowed his brows, “No, I don’t. I just am… worried.” 

“Jayce, I am high out of my mind, having my way with a beautiful boy. I am fine.” 

He grinned at the sentiment, even as it made his face heat up, “Beautiful? Really?” 

Viktor rolled his red-tinged eyes, “You know you’re beautiful. I won’t feed your ego. Come and kiss me more, yes?” 

Jayce giggled. He leaned down, “Yes.” 

It was easier to kiss Viktor like this- more familiar. He still wasn’t the one leading, but it did feel like he had more control. Not that he’d minded being at the mercy of his companion. 

Jayce’s hand slid down the other man’s hip, grasping his thigh and pulling the leg against his waist. He could nearly wrap his hand entirely around the limb, fingertips almost touching. It made something primal, maybe territorial, bloom in his chest. Viktor was so fucking skinny.

“Mm-” Viktor gasped as their groins slotted together, fingers digging into Jayce’s shoulders. He looked up with those pretty sunset eyes, lips parted, “Jayce.” 

If he was sober, Jayce would’ve realized that his name sounded a little like a warning. But he was high, he was horny, and he had never been much of a good listener. And Viktor smelled so good and his skin was soft and Jayce was kissing up and down his throat. Really, it wasn’t his fault. He had too much he was preoccupied with. 

He rolled his hips again, desperate for friction, and paused. Something about that was… off. It didn’t feel how it should. 

“Hold on,” Viktor spoke up again, another warning. Jayce couldn’t hear him- he was too busy thinking. 

The cogs in his head were turning, and he was realizing, and- Shit. He pulled away like he’d been burned. He watched with wide eyes as Viktor sat up, the latter’s expression nearing resignation. 

“Jayce-” He began, and it sounded like the beginning of an explanation. 

Once again, Jayce was not listening. How the hell was Viktor so calm? This was serious!

“Oh my God.” He breathed out, running a hand through his already messy hair. He sat back on his heels, “Oh my God, Viktor, where’s your dick? What happened to it?” 

The other man watched him in stunned silence. It was totally unnerving. Really, why wasn’t he freaking out?!

“Did I crush it? Oh my God, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know that was possible. My Mom always told me I had more strength than I knew what to do with, I just didn’t think it could do this-” 

Viktor snorted. Loud and sharp enough that it shut Jayce up, quieted his mind. The two stared at each other for three long seconds. 

Then Viktor started laughing. 

The sound was light, a little wheezy, and beautiful. Despite the strangeness of the situation, it made Jayce smile. He’d never heard a laugh quite like it. 

Still, that didn’t take away from the very real panic coursing through him. 

“Jayce, you are- oh, God.” He chuckled, covering his mouth with a hand, “It is a good thing you have your looks.” 

He furrowed his brows. His brain was very slow right now and he was very, very confused. Shaking his head, he rested a hand on Viktor’s knee, “I don’t understand.” 

The smile the man gave Jayce was equal parts fondness and patronization, “I don’t have a, eh, dick, as you so eloquently put it. I never have.” 

Jayce tilted his head to the side as if things would make more sense at a 45-degree angle. He blinked once, twice, three times, “What?”

Viktor rolled his eyes, more for theatrics than anything else, “To put it technically, I was born a female. Which took me very little time to realize was not the case. Thus, here I am now. Not a female. My body simply… is a little behind in the process.” 

“Oh.” 

Jayce was the dumbest fucking idiot in the world. His face was absolutely on fire, embarrassment burning through him. Part of him hoped death would just take him now, or that this was all a dream he’d wake up from. If only to save himself from the humiliation. Viktor must have been kicking himself for spending time with such an imbecile. 

“Is that a problem for you?” Viktor asked when Jayce stayed silent, an incredulous eyebrow raised. The warmth was gone from him, defenses raised as he waited for an answer. 

Jayce lurched forward, desperate to fix the situation, to stop being so damn stupid. A large hand cupped Viktor’s cheek, “No! No, not at all. I’m sorry, I just- I feel so stupid.” He laughed, more self-deprecating than anything, “You’re great, Viktor- wonderful. And I’m an idiot. I didn’t- I’m sorry, my brain is not working. It’s not a problem. I like you how you are.” 

The word vomit spewing from him was grating on his nerves, making him cringe. He wanted to curl into a ball and die. This was the worst. 

He expected Viktor to pull away. To tell him to leave, that they were done and Jayce was unwelcome. He expected to be shunned for his idiocy. He would’ve deserved it, too. 

Instead, the man huffed out a laugh. He shook his head, “I’m not sure I’d go so far as to call you an idiot, Jayce. But it certainly was not one of your finest moments.” 

“Definitely not.” He grinned, running his thumb over the sharp cheekbone, “Try not to hold it against me? I don’t care that you’re a guy without a dick. I like you. I’m just very high.” 

“Oh, you like me?” Viktor wrapped a hand around Jayce’s forearm, “You just met me.” 

He gave a half-assed shrug, getting a little caught up in how starkly contrasting their skin tones were, “It doesn’t take much.” 

“Just weed and some kissing, huh?” 

“You also happen to be very cool.” Jayce argued, a teasing lilt to his voice, “Though the weed and the kissing don’t hurt.” 

Viktor chuckled. He looked so lovely with his hair down and a smile on his face. Jayce wanted to commit it to a canvas and look at it forever. 

“Can we do some more of it? The kissing?” He asked before he could stop himself. This longing in his chest was more than he could bear. 

The man’s eyes shimmered like starlight, something akin to pride flaring in him. He liked that Jayce wanted him. Jayce liked it too- he liked that look on Viktor’s face a lot. 

Just as Jayce’s companion opened his mouth to respond, though, they were interrupted. 

The door to the basement was flung open, letting in a flurry of pounding music and strobe lights. Jayce jumped a foot in the air, heart rate skyrocketing, while Viktor didn’t move a muscle.

“Vik, you down there?” A voice that could only be described as cackly called. From here, Jayce couldn’t see any part of the intruder besides black scuffed boots and two ankle-length blue braids, “Ekko says I can’t set off my fireworks unless you’re there to supervise!” 

Viktor laid his head against the back of the couch and looked up toward the doorway, “I’m assuming you won’t be taking no for an answer?” 

“Nope!” Came her enthusiastic reply as she rocked back and forth on her heels, “I told you I was gonna make you participate in the party. You’ve had your time.” 

The man let out a long sigh before responding, “I’ll be right there.” 

“Don’t take too long! I’ll be on the roof!” 

Then the door slammed shut, and they were in the quiet again. 

Viktor looked at Jayce with an expression bordering on apologetic, “It seems we’ll have to rain-check our kissing, unfortunately.” 

“You have to go?” He didn’t mean to sound as pathetic and whiny as he did. The thought of parting with him right now made him very sad. 

“Jinx is not one for patience.” Viktor got to his feet, stretching his arms above his head until his spine popped. His shirt rode up, giving Jayce a peek of smooth skin over a prominent hip bone, “And I’d prefer if my house didn’t get burned down by her antics. I like having a place to live.” 

Viktor was reaching for his cane and Jayce was panicking, panicking, panicking. He didn’t want to say goodbye, not yet. His mind was a haze but he knew that much. 

“Well, can I see you again? Sometime soon?” Desperate. He must’ve looked so desperate. He didn’t care. 

Viktor paused and looked down at him, half-smirking. His fingers tapped against the head of his cane, “I’m sure you’ll see me again, Jayce. Some time.” 

“But-” 

“You can stay down here as long as you’d like.” Viktor walked towards the stairs, favoring the weight of his bad leg a little, “Enjoy the quiet, get some rest, take care of your… predicament. No one will bother you.” 

It didn’t take a genius to know that the ‘predicament’ was Jayce’s not-so-subtle erection. His cheeks were heating up again. All he could do was watch with resignation as the man moved away from him. He was like water Jayce was trying to hold in his hands. 

Just as he was about to ascend the stairs, Viktor stopped again. He looked at Jayce over his shoulder, gazing through strands of brown hair. His eyes shone with warmth, “Thank you for keeping me company. I hope it was as… enjoyable for you as it was for me.” 

He left after that. Deserting Jayce in the basement with kiss-swollen lips, too-tight pants, and a whole lot of questions. 

[telomeke]

Hi @he-is-lightning-in-a-bottle! This was a fun and also thought-provoking read. Thanks for tagging me! 🥰 I already played this tag game, and my own is linked here if you'd like to read it. 💖

‌

POLL TAG- FIVE FAVORITE CHARACTERS

tagged by @wen-kexing-apologist.

Challenge: make a poll with five of your all time favorite characters, and then tag five people to do the same. See which character is everyone's favorite.

I am choosing to limit myself to BL characters because otherwise we'd have a Will Graham (an unhinged FBI profiler in Hannibal) vs Yu Ji Ho (the boundary-respecting pharmacist single dad in One Spring Night) vs Bart (the Universe-appointed holistic assassin in Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency) vs Benjamin Sisko (the legendary single dad and captain of the space station in Star Trek Deep Space Nine) type of situation going on.

The Spiel - IN DEFENSE OF MY FAVES

Nozue (Old Fashion Cupcake)

Everyone's favorite boss with a heart of gold, this 39yo repressed hottie could flirt like a pro. My favorite thing about him is that he experienced utterly transformative character growth without having to experience severe pain (a breakup, a loved one's death, job loss, rejection, etc). He just looked at where he was standing and... stepped left.

Kakeru (I Cannot Reach You)

My boy learned his childhood bestie had a crush on him and did not flee in terror. Instead he faced it and asked for patience and examined his feelings and treated the potential change in their relationship as seriously as it deserved to be treated because the request came from someone he loved. Clearly, this is a boy who knows how to spell R-E-S-P-E-C-T.

Wei Qian (Unknown)

He stepped up and raised his younger sibling when their druggie mother died, then added an adoptee into the mix. And he cared for them so profoundly that they had relatively normal childhoods despite being orphans. Yet this softie was tough enough to be a gang enforcer, and then smart enough to get a college degree, and then competent enough to co-create a successful startup. Like what kind of super hero bullshit is he on?

Karan (Cherry Magic, Thailand)

A competent and talented employee, and he's a total simp who looks great in or out of a suit? Sign me up for his tender loving care, y'all. I literally melted into a puddle of goo every time we saw a glimpse of his very earnest yet sweet fantasies. He just wants to take care of his boo!

Iwanaga (Love Is Better The Second Time Around)

I confess he's here mostly because he's eye candy. (Well that and recency bias, because if we're really talking about my favorite eye candy, it'd be Porsche from Kinnporsche without a second's hesitation.) But roll with me here, please? This man can fuck! And fuck so well he pissed off the love of his life! And all the men in town are dropping for him like flies. They get one hint of a taste of his juice and they're down bad! They're hooked. They're his. He is legendary. He is epic. He knows how to work his angles and his puppy dog eyes! And he's also talented and wealthy and considerate to boot.

***

Most of my mutuals have probably played already, but if you care to go again or want an excuse to play by different rules, please consider yourself tagged. Also I'm tagging some of you just in case you haven't done it yet because tbh I haven't been paying that close of attention to my dash this week: @absolutebl, @syrinth, @dean-you-assbutt-cas-loves-you, @lurkingshan, @bengiyo, @chickenstrangers, @thequeenofsastiel, @tiggymalvern, @spicyvampire, @my-rose-tinted-glasses, @wanderlust-in-my-soul, @twig-tea, @telomeke, @guzhu-furen, @gunsatthaphan, @lymeandcoconut, @itwoodbeprefect, @shortpplfedup

[jinxedjazz]

A/N: vi x reader, (breakup era/pit fighter) vi sneaks into your room in the middle of the night, purely just vi being horny and wanting you tbh, inspired by the song middle of the night by elley duhé i hope you enjoy and thank you for reading! (thank you @/things4your for the header! and @/cafekitsune for the dividers! <3)

warnings: this does contain smut so please 18+ readers only!

word count: 1274

Your ears twitched, alerted by the sharp sound of creaking wood in the middle of the night. You assumed it was another animal trying to find a place to sleep, but the noise persisted. With a groan, you raised your head hesitantly, glancing over to the corner of your room. Was someone trying to break in? But before you could react, the aperture suddenly jutted upward with a loud crack, allowing in a cold breeze and a pale hand to cling to its ledge. 

“Shit!” you cursed, clumsily pulling yourself out of tangled sheets. “Shitshitshit.” Quickly, you dropped to the floor, blindly reaching out to anything you could find underneath your bed. You hunched over, hiding yourself from view, desperately searched for any type of makeshift weapon you could have possibly had lying around. 

“Waiting for someone?” The voice rang out. 

Huh? 

The question had caught you off guard, you lifted your head, nearly hitting it on the ledge of your bed to find the intruder was not a stranger, but rather someone familiar. 

“Vi?!” you whispered in disbelief, and slight irritation. “I couldn’t help but notice your window was unlocked.” She commented, blowing an obstructing strand of hair out of her vision with a short breath. Unbelievable. 

“You know you can use the front door right? Instead of scaring the shit out of me!” you scolded, watching her effortlessly pull herself through your window. “Sorry cupcake.” with a loud thud, her boots hit the floor as she rose to her natural height. “Think of it as–” she trailed off, glancing around your room, trying to catch her breath, “teaching you a lesson.” your unwavering glare was met with a sly chipped smirk. She always knew how to make you crack, you now biting back a smile of your own. “Miss me?” She raised her thick brows upward, her expression playfully cocky. You rolled your eyes. “I'll take that eye roll as a yes.” 

“Whatever helps you sleep at night.” you quipped sarcastically, earning a breathy chuckle. 

“What are you doing here so late anyways?” you asked, returning to your original spot on the bed. 

She must have just come from the bar, or from another fight. Her face was veiled by dark makeup, wearing that leather jacket she so often wore out, complemented by a row of bloody knuckles, each hand wrapped up in cloth bandages. And she reeked of booze and cigarette smoke. 

“I wanted to see you princess, is that a crime?” She raised her slit brow, striding across the room to join you. Dropping her weight at the edge of your bed, she lazily kicked off her leather boots. You found yourself staring in admiration, watching her shoulders slowly roll back to reveal her muscular arms hidden beneath the leather jacket. Her exposed skin–embellished with intricate tattoos. Crawling closer, you settled yourself behind her, laying your head to rest at the nook of her shoulder. Vi’s smug expression softened.

“Climbing in my window might be.” you whispered against her pierced ear, wrapping your arms to hang loosely around the collar of her neck. She hummed in amusement at the thought, leaning back against you. “Wouldn’t be the first time.” She countered, shifting her eyes to glance at you behind her.

“Oh really? And to think I was beginning to think I was special.” you fixed your lips into a small pout. Vi turned her head to face toward yours, her attention dropping to your lips. “You are special.” she reassured, complimented by the warmth of her hand at the back of your neck, pulling you even closer. “Want me to show you?”

“Vi–” the sound of her name reduced to a breathy moan. “Yeah princess? Does that feel good?” she rasped. Her question was left unanswered, any coherence you had left now lost in this moment. You were beyond overwhelmed, incapacitated by the different sensations you were feeling all at once.

Vi’s strong hands held you still, the grip of her fingers almost bruising as she held your hips. Your quivering legs were hoisted up over her broad shoulders as she laid shirtless between your legs, her head positioned at your core. “Tell me how it feels, I want to hear you–” she begged, her tongue sedulously lapping along your wet folds. Your hands fell to her head, fingers weaving through dark strands, her intense gaze now fixed on your blissed expression. “--Feels so good” was the best you could manage. She hummed in appreciation, her eyelids fluttering to a close as she focused on your pleasure. 

Your back arched, feeling the wandering touch of her rough fingers carefully seek out your entrance. Her index circled the sensitive threshold, gathering the slick of your arousal before inching the digit in. She started with one, her pace slow, it started to feel like she was teasing you with what was to come next. You whimpered, desperately pushing yourself closer, silently begging for more. She gave you a chipped smirk, allowing a second finger to follow the first. 

“So needy.” she murmured between your legs, groaning when you gently tugged at her hair in retaliation. The vibration of her moan sent what felt like electricity down your legs, “Vi–I’m not going to last much longer–” you gasped with furrowed brows, tucking your lower lip between clenched teeth. “Especially with you touching me like that. And–” your vision fell down to her below you. Vi’s interest remained between your legs, her kiss bitten lips parting as she watched her fingers disappear inside of you. “You’re so wet.” She sighed, settling back in between your legs, hastily heeding her desire to taste you again. Feeling her mouth return, you immediately lost your breath. Your head fell back against the pillow, your legs trembling uncontrollably against her neck as you reached the cusp of your peak. 

“Oh God–I’m close!”

Vi’s grip loosened at the side of your hip, allowing you to ride out your oncoming climax. Her free hand reached up to pinch at one of your taut nipples, gently rolling the bud between the pads of her fingers. “Vi!” you cried out, your hips bucking against her mouth. The sharp point of her nose grazing against your clit repeatedly sends you over the final edge, you now engulfed in the heightened state of pleasure. “I’m here.” she reassured, positioning herself on top of you, admiring your state of ecstasy with lowered lids. Delicately, she withdrew her fingers from you, causing you to gasp at the loss of contact. “You okay princess?” She called out to you, you’ve never heard her voice so gentle. Taking in a deep breath your eyes opened, finding her own in front of you. 

“I can’t stop shaking.” you murmured, closing your eyes once more. You felt a warm palm reach out to your thigh, caressing your still trembling limb. “Don’t tell me I wore you out already.” She teased, her soft smile growing into a playful grin. 

“Do you blame me, you’ve kept me up all morning!” you whined, throwing an arm over your eyes shielding yourself from the rising sun. “C’mere.” Vi demanded, falling back into the empty spot in your bed with open arms. You obeyed, shifting yourself closer, laying your head against her chest. Looking up at her, you noticed her makeup had faded, revealing the tattoo of her name she had on her cheek. She watched you reach forward, gingerly tracing the lines with the tips of your fingers. “Find something you like?” she asked, looking toward you expectantly. 

“A lot I like actually.” you smiled, “I should leave my window open more often.”

[euphoria-looney]

I Got You On My Radar, Soon You're Gonna Be With Me, "Strategy" By TWICE

Creds to @dollywons for the dividers

This will have a lot of POV switches so get ready 😀

(This has a mother!darling and a daughter!darling, and they are separate from the reader- unless you decide they aren’t 😍😍)

gn!reader (if I accidentally make them seem too feminine, I’m sorry 😞)

Next chapter I'm going to make [name] crash out but not for the reason you think (hopefully not the reason you think)

So Much More.

Pt. 1 Pt.2

Alfred's POV

I couldn't say if I have a favorite among the Wayne family. I've served them for years even now in my old age. Left my own child, Julia, to train to be at my side, servicing the Waynes.

If you had to ask me to narrow down who was my favorite though, it would have to be young master, [name].

They aren't trained to be assassins, vigilantes, or even able to tame feral animals, instead, they excel in normal activities. I remember the first time they approached Master Burce, eyes that had stars glow in them. They wanted to invite Master Bruce to a ballet recital. They danced with such grace and perfection that many had asked them to continue the said sport. Professionally.

However, they had no time to spare as they raced down to see me, looking around frantically, and excitedly, it hurt my heart to see their eyes dim down so quickly after finding out that unfortunately none of their family had come.

Undeterred, they kept trying figure skating, football (soccer), and volleyball. They'd try the music pathway once they noticed sports didn't work. They excused the absences starting with opera since "opera was boring and easy anyway; maybe instruments are more interesting." They tried the violin, cello, organ, and harp. Still nothing.

Of course, it wasn't just these events that the family missed out on, it was also their birthdays, trophy events, everything. I could only try to support them on the side.

They were a gifted child, one, that had a fire burn so brightly. Till it wasn't.

They never stopped doing the activities, but you could tell they no longer cared if the family attended. I'd go and make excuses for them, and they would brush it off.

Then it seemed they had that fire extinguished when Lady [M/D] and Misstress [D/D] came into the picture.

I could only do so much as I wasn't their personal butler.

Then a day ago was their graduation. I believed I could make it, but the circumstances were too busy and important to go to the graduation. So, today, I hope I can make it up with cupcakes. Today is their birthday.

Imagine, my surprise when they started crying, how I felt such guilt, was it the missed events, or even bigger, the graduation?

None of that. They only said how thankful they were for me. I tried to spend the rest of the evening with them, but it just ended up with me being called to see [D/D] with a new animal. I didn't want to leave them.

I had to though, that is my duty as a butler. To serve my masters.

Another perk about [name] though was how understanding they were.

I should've seen the signs.

A smile and nod gave me all I needed to know that they were going to be okay if I left.

After a long day, I went back to my quarters, to see an envelope.

Sealed in wax with a Lotus flower imprinted on it.

Opening it up and reading the contents made numerous thoughts run rapidly in my mind.

Dear, Alfred

I can only hope this news doesn't affect you in any way. I simply couldn't find it in my heart to tell you in person. I'll be leaving the manor. I've left many things in my room that I hope you mind leaving in there. I don't want years of my work to go down the drain, as you see they hold memorial and sentimental value to me.

That's beside the point, Alfie, you mean the world to me. I don't think I could've made it this far without you. There were days I thought of quitting. Seeing your approval was enough for me to keep pushing myself. Alfie, you are the most capable person I've ever seen in anything. This is why I know my disappearance will help you more by taking the unneeded burden off your shoulders.

Alfie, I hope that when I make a name for myself, you will still look at me with such fondness that makes me feel like a child again, clinging onto you like my last hope, as you always have been. Take of yourself, as that is the most important thing about this message. You matter too much for me to ever forget or let go of you, whether it be through memory or anything else.

With love and appreciation,

[name] [last name]

I re-read that letter, over and over again.

True to their words I never saw them again, but they were wrong about one thing.

They were never a burden on my shoulders. Far from it. They felt like- my child, I raised them up and felt proud of the achievements they managed to get on their own.

I knew I had to understand. It was their choice. One that I didn't want to respect. I wanted to drag them back, but with no leads, how does one even do such a thing?

My only choice was to read their entries and watch recordings they did for themselves to look back on.

But that doesn't do the trick, does it?

I'll find a strategy to bring you back young master, I promise.

Journal 7th

(Entry #1)

I'm going into the 7th grade this year. Honestly, everything sucks. I wish to give up. Alfie has been busy since those two new people came into the house. They seem that they don't want to be here. Honestly, relatable.

Alfie tries but he can never understand me. (GUYS THIS WAS THEIR EMO PHASE, it's so unrealistic 😭)

I have to go, I have an ice skating competition to go to.

(Entry #45)

How is this fair!!! This is so sickening.

I've tried everything and what do I get?! NOTHING.

NoW I'm writing all sloppy! Forget it who says I even need their dumb attention!

Here comes waltzing in this mother-daughter duo!

"Oh~, I don't want you guys"

"But we're obsessed with you!"

WELL SCREW ALL OF YOU GUYS.

SIGNING OFF,

[name] [last name]

Journal 9th

(Entry #1)

It's been two years since [M/D] and [D/D] have entered the manor.

Despite what I wrote somewhere in my old journal, I don't hate them. If anything I feel pity for them. They do something that the family doesn't like and it is like their babies that did something wrong.

Not to mention Damian is always monitoring [D/D] at school and it doesn't help that not even the soundproof wall can block off the sound of Mr. Wayne and [M/D].

It's worse at home than before the family would be busy off doing whatever vigilantes do.

Also, it didn't take a while to find that out. As a kid, I thought they were playing dress-up without me. We'll ignore that though.

Anyway, now as soon as their done doing whatever they're to save the city they rush home to smother those two.

I'm starting high school soon. Slowly I'm changing my style so my hair, and clothing. The hoodie phase was... something.

Anyway

Yours truly,

[name] [last name].

Closing the entries, my thoughts are once again interrupted.

"Where's big sibling [name]?" a child/teenager approached me.

This would be [D/D] with a python on her shoulder.

"They're gone, young mistress." I kneeled down to her height.

"Gone?" The tone was menacingly, annoyed. You could hear the python hissing in agreement with his owner.

[D/D]'s POV

I hated how this family held me in such a possessive and obsessive way, but now I think I understand them.

How could I not when staring at [name]?

My precious sibling. If anything I do have something I appreciate this family for, but if I told them they'd probably annoy me even more, they ignored [name] allowing me to be their one true sibling.

They were special compared to everyone else in this whole world.

It sucked every second, moment, that I didn't spend with them. They give the best cuddles anyone could ask for, and they smelled so good.

I also liked their room, it was so ethereal sometimes. Mostly because they were in there but also because they had customized it perfectly, the decorations. I loved the figurines, the Hironos and Smiskis, the most.

However, the most important thing was the scent.

Did I mention that?

When I had first met them it had been a week since I got kidnapped to this god-awful place, I kept getting smothered and needed to just- get away from it all.

I felt so overwhelmed.

Then they walked in front of me, in this, from what I had assumed, abandoned hallway. It freaked me out and I asked what they were doing in this hallway as I was guessing that his hallway would be closed off or something.

"What are you doing here?! Did one of the freaks send you!?" I directed my anger at them since it would only make sense why I'd encounter them.

"What are you talking about? This is my 'wing' of the house, my room is right over there." They had made a confused face at me.

I felt embarrassed but I shook my head not believing them.

"Are you making this up? Listen as much as I don't want to admit this the only people who are living here are my family and Alfred, the only butler. You certainly can't be a part of this family with that attire, and not once has anyone mentioned you." I looked at them up and down.

"I get that a lot, well not really, I don't talk to anyone other than Alfie." Alfie?

"I'm [name] [la- Wayne. I think I'm older than Duke, so I'd be older than you. We don't really interact..."

"Oh, so you're my sibling." Weird her reaction was normal meeting me... "Well don't bother me like the rest of them." I stuck my head up, glancing at them, which wasn't as they were taller than me by a lot."

"The rest of them?"

"Yeah, they're so annoying, you're cool, for now. But they constantly bother me, going on and on about how I'm their precious little sister, boasting their love to me, notice all the jewelry? That's from them." I rolled my eyes.

"Oh." Their tone had changed seemed distance and the way their eyes sharpened, I didn't even notice.

"You know, I like you, you're perfect, want to hang out?" I batted my eyes at them. Something I wouldn't do in front of the others, they just gush over it.

"I'm busy." They answered shortly, already making their way out.

That made me frown.

"Busy? Doing what? I could join you."

"I'd rather you not, I have a performance to do and have no time to waste."

After that moment I would notice them more and more, that even a second not seeing them felt like my world was dying just to be fixed seeing them at the library. They Looked So Cool!

Flipping through a book, typing faster than my eyes could track, and their note-taking, gosh, that handwriting.

Just to be dragged away by that annoying pest, Damian, he'd be like "Good, you're in the library, I have a bunch of books that we can read together.

No, Damian, I don't want to.

I think I also grew on them, a wee bit.

Not to mention, my pets loved them, even more than they loved me sometimes, ungrateful 🙄.

Then one time, I wanted to skip school, and I knew none of the family would let me, even my mom! She would let me do anything to spite the family but not this, as she deemed education important.

So I maybe, sorta, kind of took [name]'s phone number at one point and called them up.

Damian wasn't near me at the moment. Thank Christ, since we attended the same school, same grade, and everything.

They showed up, sighing, they looked so cool with their windbreaker jacket, those s0ny headphones, the pants, the shoes, and that cool instrument case on their back!

They told the principal that they were my babysitter. Like c'mon, we're siblings. Signed their name really fancy and took me in the car.

One of the best memories as they allowed me to watch them practice at their school as long as I didn't bother them.

So I'm a bit peeved at the news I received today from Alfred.

"Gone?" Seems Copperhead agreed.

My head was reeling as a few days passed and my mom seemed to notice (so did everyone else but who cares about them)

I'll have you on my radar soon, my sweet-hearted [name].

"Honey, is something wrong?" She showed concern.

"Of course not, darling-" Father got cut off

"Not you, [D/D]."

"[name] up and left me" I could feel myself deteriorating even more at that sentiment I just said.

"They what?!" Mom seemed to explode at that moment. Her aura suffocating.

[M/D]'s POV

I had no choice; it was by some coincidence that I bumped into Bruce again. In some way, he tricked me, more like manipulated me into marrying him.

It was hard to adapt, of course, it was, somehow my daughter got used to it quicker than me, every time I did something simple one of the kids, those poor traumatized kids would ask to help me. At first, I didn't mind but they did become overbearing just like Bruce.

Don't get me wrong, they've somehow wormed their way into my heart even that dang handsome Bruce, which makes me show signs of Stockholm syndrome, but therapy is not something I need right now.

Though, they could never top [name].

They reminded me of the woman I met through Bruce, and how she was perfect.

So when I found out that she had a child, I couldn't be even more excited to meet her child, [name].

Even though they had no supporters, even one speck of some kind of light kept them going.

I love my daughter [D/D], but she gave up on doing anything used to being spoiled. That just makes me want to spoil her more though.

[name] did many things. I got an invitation to an ice skating competition. Alfred had handed me two tickets.

"Master [name] would appreciate it if you came to her competition, Lady Wayne." Alfred bowed before leaving."

"Woah!~ [name] ice skates?" [D/D] had stars in her eyes.

"Would you like to attend, sweetheart?" I patted her head.

"Anything to get away from home! Though one of my siblings will bother me again." [D/D] pouted.

True to her words we were delayed to the competition.

The sight that we witnessed though, well, I couldn't even describe it.

"Woah~! They did it! They did the triple axel!"

"Okay, but we all know they could've done a quad axel."

"Shut it, Coral, you got disqualified in figure skating when you were 5 years ago, you don't even know how to figure- much less ice skate anymore."

Apparently, the Axel move was one of the hardest moves to pull.

As they made their way off the podium and to Alfred, they smiled understandably as he made excuses for the Wayne household.

"Congratulations [name]!" [D/D] cheered, it made their smile drop for a moment, I didn't notice though, too enamored by their frame.

"Yes, congrats, I didn't know you had such a talent for ice skating." I gave them a bouquet of roses, which I have to thank that dang Bruce for, or else I would've had nothing to give them.

"Figure skating, but thank you." She accepted the flowers before motioning to Alfred that they were going away.

I was going to stop them, but my phone was getting flooded with messages, and when I looked over [D/D] phone was no different.

"Ah! So annoying! I didn't even get to say bye to [name]!" [D/D] had ruffled her hair out of agitation.

Year after year, my schedule got busy and I could never see them that much.

So tell me why, why in the world did my world have to crash and burn during this dinner that seemed to be perfect.

It even had scallop butre.

"Honey, is something wrong?" I was concerned. [D/D] had been in a bad mood all week.

"Of course not, darling-" Bruce got cut off by me.

"Not you, [D/D]."

"[name] up and left me"

"They what?!" I slammed my hand on the table.

"G-gone? What in the world are you talking about, angel?!" I tried to reason.

"They moved! Left! No one knows where though!" [D/D] cried shoving a piece of food into her mouth. Damian scolded her and tried to pat her back before getting his hand slapped away.

"Calm down." Dick went over to calm [D/D] down and Cassandra went over to rub my arm to console me.

"[name]? Darling, who is that." He chuckled, in that stupid possessive way, which would've made me drop this but this was his child!

"Your child! Yours! Remember! The one that has all the trophies!?"

"Trophies?" Tim chimed in.

"don't worry mom, They aren't that many trophies I've earned," Jason added in.

For god sake you pricks! Are any of your names, [name]?!

"I think they are referring to [name] [lastname], masters." Alfred brought out the dessert, his thoughts seemed to also be clouded.

Realization seemed to hit, starting off with Bruce and then spreading.

Who cares about them though.

Don't worry [name], soon you're gonna be with me.

Guys were already making our schedules for next year and being an academic weapon I am I signed up for all Ap.

Junior year is going to kick my ass.

Also

“I can write descriptions”

“Well I can write dialouge”

Man, I can't do either, unless… 😏 y'all beg to differ/j

Jk I feel confident on my writing, I just need validation 👁️🫦👁️

@cozmie @nxdxsworld @overcaffeinatedfreak @strwberryglass @leiiasurez

(Guys why is my taglist not working 😞)

[kaiyunsim]

paw paradise —

pairing : idol!jake x daycare worker!reader

summary : jake's dog, layla, has been attending a doggy daycare and has taken a liking to you… and maybe the owner too.

a/n : i love jake. i love golden retriever energy.

— wc : 1.1k — not proof read —

jake sim has always been a morning person. the soft light spilling through his curtains, the chirping of birds outside his window, and most importantly, the enthusiastic barking of his golden retriever, layla, are enough to pull him out of bed with a smile. layla is practically vibrating with energy as jake clips on her leash.

“ready for daycare, girl?” he asks, scratching behind her ears. layla responds with a happy bark, tail wagging furiously.

every morning, jake drops layla off at a local doggy daycare while he heads to practice. it’s a cozy little place tucked between a coffee shop and a florist, with colorful murals of dogs painted on the outside walls. it’s called "paw paradise," and it’s as much of a haven for jake as it is for layla.

you work there, and you’ve seen layla plenty of times. she’s impossible to miss, bounding in with her golden coat practically glowing, a stark contrast to the sleepy-eyed boy holding her leash. you’ve always thought jake was cute in an approachable, golden-retriever-boy kind of way, but you’ve never had the chance to really talk to him. he’s usually in and out within minutes, his mornings rushed and busy.

one morning, you’re at the front desk, checking in dogs and chatting with their owners, when jake walks in. his smile is soft but genuine as he approaches, layla’s leash wrapped securely around his hand.

“hey,” he says, sliding the daycare’s sign-in clipboard toward himself. “how’s it going?”

“it’s good,” you reply, trying not to sound too nervous. “how about you?”

“can’t complain. layla’s been up since six, so she’s ready to burn off some energy.”

as if to prove his point, layla wags her tail so hard that her whole body shakes. you laugh, crouching down to give her a few pats. “she’s such a sweetheart.”

jake’s grin widens. “she likes you. that’s rare; she’s usually all about the dogs.”

it’s a small comment, but it sticks with you. there’s something about the way he says it, casual but warm, that makes your chest flutter.

after jake leaves, you’re busy with the usual daycare chaos—feeding schedules, playtime rotations, cleaning up after the more “exuberant” dogs. but layla’s easy. she gets along with everyone, her gentle nature making her a favorite among the other pups. you find yourself sneaking her extra belly rubs during breaks, thinking about her equally charming owner.

the days pass in a blur of wagging tails and barking dogs. jake becomes a familiar face, always polite and friendly, but never lingering too long. you start noticing little things about him: the way he always thanks you before leaving, the way he scratches layla’s ears like she’s the center of his world. it’s endearing, but you keep your distance. after all, he’s just another client.

one weekend, the daycare hosts a small "pup playdate" event for clients and their dogs. it’s meant to be a casual gathering with snacks, games, and plenty of room for the dogs to play. you’re busy setting up when jake arrives, layla trotting happily beside him.

“hey,” he says, balancing a tray of cupcakes. “i brought these. figured the humans might want snacks, too.”

“nice touch,” you reply, smiling. “you didn’t have to, though.”

“well, layla insisted,” he jokes. “and by insisted, i mean she stared at me while i baked.”

throughout the event, you notice how easily jake fits in. he chats with other dog owners, laughing as layla plays tug-of-war with a beagle while she is twice her size. at one point, he joins you by the snack table, where you’re refilling bowls of treats.

“this is really nice,” he says. “you guys put a lot of effort into it.”

“thanks,” you reply, brushing a stray strand of hair out of your face. “it’s fun seeing all the dogs together.”

“you’re good at this,” he adds, his voice warm. “the dogs love you. layla especially.”

his words catch you off guard, but before you can respond, a chorus of barking erupts as the dogs chase after a stray ball. jake laughs and jogs over to join the chaos, leaving you feeling oddly flustered.

a few days later, jake surprises you again. this time, it’s a rainy morning, and he’s soaked from head to toe when he walks in. “i forgot my umbrella,” he explains, shaking water off his jacket. “but layla needed her playtime.”

you grab him a towel, trying not to laugh. “here, dry off before you catch a cold.”

as you softly dry his hair, you notice how his usually neat appearance is a little disheveled. it’s strangely endearing, and you can’t help but offer him a cup of tea from the staff kitchen.

“you don’t have to,” he says, but you wave him off.

“consider it a thank-you for all those coffees you’ve brought me.”

the two of you sit by the window, watching the rain as layla happily plays in the indoor area. the conversation flows easily, moving from lighthearted topics to deeper ones. jake tells you about how he adopted layla during a tough time in his life, how she’s been his constant source of joy. you share stories about your journey to working at the daycare, your dreams of opening your own place someday.

these little moments start to add up. jake’s visits become a highlight of your day, and you find yourself looking forward to seeing him more than you’d like to admit. but it’s still just friendly… at least, that’s what you tell yourself.

one evening, as you’re locking up the daycare, jake’s car pulls into the parking lot. layla’s head pops out the window, barking happily when she sees you.

“hey,” jake says, stepping out of the car. “i know it’s late, but we were just at the park and thought we’d swing by.”

“lucky me,” you say, grinning. “what’s up?”

jake rubs the back of his neck, looking unusually neevous. “actually, i wanted to ask you something.”

“oh?”

he takes a deep breath. “i was wondering if you’d like to go out sometime. like, just us. no dogs.”

your heart skips a beat. “i’d like that,” you say, trying to keep your voice steady.

jake’s face breaks into the brightest smile you’ve ever seen. “great. how about this weekend?”

“it’s a date,” you reply, and layla barks as if in agreement. “c’mon in, i’ll give you a ride home”

“if you insist” you couldn’t hold back a smile.

you’ve always believed in the magic of dogs, but you never one to lead you to someone like jake.

turns out, paw paradise really is paradise after all.

[comatosebunny09]

how to stop the rain | sylus q.

— summary: you just wanted to catch bugs. but the rain had other plans, forcing you to wait it out in your home where another tempest brewed inside, spurred by your unlikely company.

— cw: female reader, female anatomy described, animal crossing au (the animals are human-sized & you don’t look like adorable chibis, just regular-degular people), vanilla-ass, penetrative sex, cunnilingus, fingering, creampie, friends to lovers, jealousy, silliness, romantic dribble, profanity, terms of endearment, consent king, praise, sylus is just a chill dude who likes you, like one bestiality joke, mdni

— notes: fueled by this blurb & this one & @alfredosaws & @asirensrage inspiring me with their comments. as always, thank you for reading, turtledoves.

— now playing: stale cupcakes - sleeping phoenix

It’s raining.

You can’t say you didn’t anticipate it; Isabelle forecasted it in her daily announcement. Still, you insisted on foraging for materials and hunting for bugs, dragging an indifferent Sylus alongside you. 

You were about to capture a monarch butterfly, net poised overhead. Sylus watched you with quiet amusement, leaning against a cedar tree when the first clap of thunder shook the sleepy island. The resulting drizzle quickly morphed into a downpour, chasing the island’s other inhabitants inside. 

“Not a word,” you clipped when Sylus snickered beside you, kneeling to help you gather your tools. You weren’t sure what irritated you more—the rain’s uncanny timing, Sylus’ teasing, or the pretty, cyan monarch fluttering just out of reach of your net. You had been hunting that thing for days!

The pair of you fled the forest as rain pelted down, your curses and laughter intermingling with that of your heavy footfalls splashing in errant puddles. Sylus used his coat as a makeshift umbrella, but it didn’t hold for long. You were both drenched, your clothes matted to you like a second skin, by the time you reached your doorstep. 

Swathed in the pale haze of your entryway, you pant as your mirth peters out. And as the silence of your home takes over, you become keenly aware of how close you are to him. How warmth radiates off his skin, scorching you to the bone. And the scent he carries is reminiscent of bonfires and sea spray, an aroma you’ve learned to associate with home. 

Your eyes slide over the contours of his torso, defined by the wet cling of his shirt. He’s a far cry from unsightly—you first noticed how handsome he was when he appeared on your quiet little island some months back, swept in by the idle drag of the tide. 

Your study ends at his face where your gazes interlock, his scarlet eyes creasing with mirth to match the cant of his lips. “Like what you see, sweetheart?”

You quickly look away as heat creeps into your face, evoking a chuckle from the center of your ruminations. 

“Clothes. I’ll get you some clothes,” you utter, feeling along the wall for your light switch. 

The confined space floods with warm light—your saving grace. You maneuver through your home, drip-dropping onto the hardwood floors in pursuit of your bedroom. With a towel draped over your shoulders, you return to the figure standing in your living space, a dark, regal cutout amid your minimalistic decor. 

You clear your throat, more so to cast away the dreamlike fog that had befallen you. Toss a towel at his head, avoiding the inquisitive arch of his brow as you deposit sweatpants and an oversized shirt into his hands.

“Clothes from an old fling?” Sylus pokes, something new coloring his typically flat tone. 

You shrug as you make for the hallway, ignoring how a bit of you sparkles at the prospect of him being jealous. You are merely friends—you showed him the ropes when he was disoriented and irritable, helping him find a place on the island when he finally accepted that it was his new home. 

As time passed, you found it more challenging to deny your attraction to him. Sure, he appeared rough on the outside. But as he settled into the humdrum of your lifestyle, his rigid edges started to smoothen, and you discovered there was more to him than his sharp quips and shady origins.

You retreat into your room once more, your waterlogged clothes puddling around your feet. You settle on a shower. Its soothing spray eases the tight coil of your muscles. Washes the grime from your skin. When you’ve thoroughly scrubbed off the day’s adventures, you pour yourself into something comfortable, towel-drying your hair before emerging in your home’s main lounge. 

It’s serene here. Warm—you lit some logs in the fireplace to chase away the biting cold the rain ushered in. The pop and fizz of the fire merge with the sound of rain patterning your rooftop. The shower in the guest bathroom sputters to life. Sylus must have had the same idea, his clothes folded in a neat pile atop your dryer. Briefly, you tango with the imagery of him in the shower. Skin flushed from the hot spray, water easing over the ridges of his body, lips parted with a relaxed sigh pushing through them, his back muscles—

You chuck his attire into the dryer alongside yours, deciding that a pot of tea would be a lovely distraction. 

Seated at your dining table, you smile as you watch the rain beyond your window, the warmth of your mug bleeding into your palms. With your finger, you draw nonsensical shapes into the condensation collecting on your windowpane, falling into a bout of normalcy.  

You hardly register the guest bathroom door opening, nor do you notice the figure moving through the quiet tranquility of your abode until he startles you with the click of your electric kettle placed back on its base.

You’re met with a defined, warm ivory stretch of skin panning in. With scarlet eyes tuned to you beneath alabaster locks pasted to his forehead, wet from his shower. He towels off his hair as he slides onto the chair across you, legs crossed, and you owlishly blink as he sips your tea from one of your mugs as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. 

No matter how often you’ve invited him into your home, you'll never get used to this. How massive he is in comparison to your humble kitchen. What audacity he has, making himself comfortable as if it’s his second home. And shirtless, no less. Bloody shirtless and shameless, and your throat grows dry as you force your eyes elsewhere, grip white-knuckled on your cup’s handle. 

“Was the shirt too small?” you ask to assuage your nerves, knocking the ceramic lip of the mug against your teeth. Smooth. Real smooth.

“It was,” he replies with a twitch of a smirk. Perches his elbow on the headrest, and you try vainly to ignore how such a simple movement boasts his bicep. “I don’t necessarily enjoy wearing another man’s clothes, either,” he adds, pensively looking down at his sweats. They’re a snug fit, the hems cinched around his shins. “A small one, at that.”

You sputter into your mug, tea flying every which way. Bite back a smug little smile as you blot your mouth dry with your sleeve. Sylus’ brow quirks. Never mind if the pants don’t quite fit him. He’s jealous, isn’t he?

Who would’ve thought your companion possessed such a trait? And for you, of all people? Perhaps you’re not as friendly as you perceived, and the notion makes you brim with muted glee. 

In all honesty, the clothes are yours. You have a penchant for loose-fitting, oversized things. But you decide to play up this newfound insecurity, feigning nonchalance as you sip from your mug. 

“Who else has been here besides me?” prods Sylus, voice fringed by bitterness. “As far as I've gleaned, we’re the only two humans on this island.”

It’s endearing, really—how up and arms he’s getting, bristling like a wet cat, leaning slightly over the table to interrogate you. Scarlet eyes narrow beneath pinched brows, something of a pout tugging his lips southward. 

You shrug, spurred by his envy. “Who knows? It could’ve been the mailman, Saharah, maybe even—ow!” You flinch, rubbing your forehead. You fix Sylus with a scowl. 

He smirks, leaning back in an easy slouch against your chair after flicking you, arms crossed over a virile chest. “That isn’t what I meant, and you know it, sweetie.” 

The term of endearment rolls so effortlessly off his tongue. You forget how much your forehead smarts, your petty greed for revenge. He’s called you his ‘sweetie,’ or some variation of it, for as long as you can recall, rarely addressing you by your given name. 

You sit up in your seat, clasping the steadily cooling mug between your hands. Drum your fingers against the crisp ceramic as a quiet smile rounds your lips, and you chuckle, fondness blooming like lotus petals in your chest. You decide you quite like this side of him, his usual cockiness traded for something fragile, childlike. 

Just when you’ve decided to forgive him and reveal that those pants he’s wearing are yours, Sylus has to open his big, stupid mouth. And suddenly, you don’t feel so bad for giving him the piss.

“You don’t peg me as one for bestiality, so I doubt you’ve done anything with the animals on this island. Unless—”

The rain. When the fuck was it going to stop raining?

—

You’re not entirely sure what leads to it—your breasts, warm and soft beneath the might of his chest, your breaths intermingling as you study each other on your floor.

Perhaps it began whilst seated on your couch, your thighs occasionally touching as you listened to the rainfall, filling the hushed space with idle quips and chatter. Or maybe it started when Sylus draped an arm about the back of your sofa, unconsciously scooting closer, watching your lips form words so intensely. Could it have started when he grabbed your chin, canting your face towards his under the guise of swiping some lint from your cheek?

Or could it have been something long-forming? Something bubbling like sea foam between you, building over the span of six months spent in each other’s company. Playing this silly game of keep-away, like your feelings for each other weren’t branded into your wrists for all the island to see.

Who knows.

You haven’t much time to dwell on the source because his mouth is panning in. Petal pink and soft, dark lashes bowing over peach-tinged cheeks. And you’re quietly awaiting the union of your mouths. Polite as your eyelids shutter, your palms gently perched on his traps. 

He’s kissing you before you know what’s about. Lips a tender yet insistent pressure against yours, sending your heart soaring into the stratosphere. His soft groan vibrates your lips, furls in your chest, your veins pumping liquid fire. You draw away from each other carefully, and your bleary eyes crack open, ingesting the sight of scarlet irises smoldering like liquid spilled over hot coals. 

He sifts through your gaze, wordlessly asking to kiss you again. You don’t deter him, lifting your head to meet him halfway, guided by your arms slowly snaking about his neck. He kisses you again, full-bodied and assured this time, chest deflating as he presses more into you. His lips part, a sweltering tongue easing out, seeking out the slippery glide of yours. When you return his attention, he groans something bitten-off, the sound of it reminiscent of thunder churning in the horizon.  

You lose yourself to the feel of him, to the pressure of his lips and his hips notching between your splayed-open legs. He’s heavy, mooring you to the floor with half his weight settled on his elbow beside you. You don’t complain, feeling so very safe, your fingers gliding between the warm, silken strands of his hair.

The kiss grows more feverish as the seconds pass. And you’re distracted from the devastatingly possessive slant of his mouth when his fingers creep like spindly spider limbs over your body, pushing up your shirt until the supple skin of your side skates beneath his fingertips.

He breaks away with a sticky click. Lips distended, curving into a smile. Affection colors his countenance, a side of him you’ve rarely witnessed, and the sight of it siphons the air from your lungs. 

“We can stop,” he murmurs, voice gritty like sand caught between your teeth. “We can stop if you’d like to.”

“Never,” you breathe, snatching him into another lip-lock.

He laughs into your greedy little mouth, murmuring between each sticky grind of your lips. “Are you sure—” Kiss. “—your ex-boyfriend—” Kiss. “—won’t mind?”

You fix him with a deadpan look at his callback to your baggy clothes, to which he smiles, fragile and unguarded, and you feel it pulling in your chest. 

Silence stretches between you, pulled taut like a bowstring, whilst you scrutinize each other’s faces. The atmosphere grows heavy with yearning and something more nestled in between. Something like love. For a moment, nothing but the distant rain and the violent pulsing of your heartbeats fill the space. Your lips quiver. His eyes fall to your mouth.

Sylus takes your wordless cue, sneaking his arms beneath your waist to draw you closer, and you’re giggling like an enamored adolescent as he hauls you up with him, your ankles intuitively crossing at the divot of his back. He carries you through your home, toeing your bedroom door open before laying you amongst the crisp, doughy comforter of your bed.  

He leaves you breathless and starstruck as you sit up on your elbows, watching the focal point of your affections sluggishly pull the string of his sweats free. He observes you with a mischievous glaze to his eyes, chin tilted up, bottom lip caught between his teeth as the muted glow of your bedroom outlines the rigid contours of his body.

He moves tortuously slow, tugging the waistband of his—your—pants southward, the neat beginnings of a silver trail catching your sight. He maintains some modicum of modesty, his girth prominent yet concealed by the loose hug of his briefs once he’s divested himself of your sweats. 

Your mouth hangs open, throat dry. Something warm spills into your belly, puddling in the apex of your thighs. Your gaze flits back to his, and he moves like a soundless beast through the haze, pushing you back against your mattress with a kiss, your legs instinctively parting to make room for him.

He’s blistering your neck with kisses now, eliciting the cutest little sounds from your throat. Nipping, licking, claiming his way down, concluding his mouth’s excursion at your collarbones. Your fingers rove over the tight cords of muscle in his back. And you sigh, hot and wanton, shutting your eyes with your head thrown back when he bites down, sure to leave pretty splotches of purple flowering on your skin come morning. A marking, a branding, a claim on the off chance that there really is someone else. 

His desire prods the inner cut of your thigh. You burn hot as your hips conduct a shy rhythm of their own accord, undulating off the bed to grind against him. Sylus hisses something sharp, sticky. Exhales all slow like he’s trying to rein himself in. Palms, broad and possessive, mold around your waist, anchoring you down, halting its tantalizing dance.

You whine petulantly, meeting the molten wash of his gaze. 

“Are you sure this is what you want,” he whispers, open-mouthed against the column of your throat. The fragility of his tone makes your heart pinch. “Are you sure I’m what you want?”

You nod vigorously, biting your lip. You don’t think you’ve ever wanted anything more. You’ve often craved this closeness—this level of intimacy with him. You were too afraid to act on your sentiments in case he didn’t reciprocate them. Would rather waste your days quietly pining for him at his side instead of running him off with your feelings.

“Your words, sweetheart,” he murmurs, mouth hovering over yours. “Use them.”

“Yes. Yes, I want this, and you. I want you.” 

The words flee from betwixt your lips without nary a thought. And the muggy air of your bedroom shifts again, something of danger tinging it. His lips crook with a smirk. He sits back on his haunches, heavy hands scrubbing down your quads, over your knees and shins to close around your ankles. 

“In that case, sweetling, we should get you out of these clothes.”

You move so comically fast, tearing your shirt from your shoulders, shimmying out of your bottoms and underwear to kick them off. Sylus can’t help but laugh, and heat branches into your neck. He swoops in to capture a pebbled nipple between his lips, corking whatever words of protest you planned in your throat. 

You bow into him on an exhale, fingers sifting through his hair as a pleasant pressure curdles between your thighs. His gaze never relinquishes yours, and having him watch you so intensely makes you throb. It’s as if he’s already attuned to your body, a devilish hand easing down the ripples of your rib cage, past your navel, to cup the radiant heat of your muff.

He groans when he feels you. Sweltering and slick, dribbling into his palm. Two fingers curl inward, stroking through your folds in search of the pucker of your cunt. When he finds it, he teases its sticky perimeter, the tips of his fingers easing in and out with an obscene schlick. He moves to pay similar homage to your other nipple with his mouth, and the sensation of it on you, coupled with the slow press of his fingers and his thumb meticulously circling your clit, drives you to the brink of insanity.

“Sylus, please, just—fuck.”

“Mm?” he hums, sluggish tongue swirling about your nipple in his mouth. 

You clench around him, trying vainly to trap his digits within the warm clench of your cunt. You whine when he draws his hand back, your slick painting your inner thigh like a gooey, translucent brush stroke. He’s going to make you beg—you just know it. 

Swallowing your pride, your inhibitions, your bashfulness, you grab a fistful of his hair, and he shudders, releasing your nipple with a lew pop, all bleary-eyed and panting. 

“Too much?” he exhales, his countenance awash with sleepy desire.

“More. I need more,” you relent, acutely aware of how tightly you’ve gripped his locks. You quickly release him, feeling bad for pulling to the point of pain. “Sorry.”

“You’re fine, sweetheart,” Sylus soothes, taking your hand and guiding it back to the delicate hairs at his nape. “I quite like this side of you. So beautiful when you beg. When you use me like this. Can’t get enough of it.”

His lashes shutter as he kisses down your stomach, agonizingly slow, mouth hovering dangerously close to where you radiate heat. He kisses each inner wind of your thigh. Noses the bulge of your clit, sending pleasant shockwaves rippling throughout your body. 

“Here?” A kiss where outer labia meets thigh. “You want me here, sweetheart?” Another to the other side, the warm musk of your sex causing his eyes to dip into a mysterious shade of garnet.

You nod drunkenly, your fingers twitching in his hair. 

“Words.” Sylus teases your cunt with a flattened tongue, drawing it back into his mouth when you’ve barely registered the sensation.

“Yes, fuck. Right there. Right there.”

He wastes no time licking you open thereafter, his long fingers splitting your cunt wide in an upside-down V. He groans with each swipe of his tongue as if thanking you for the meal. The gratified rumble of his voice, accompanied by the skilled flit of his tongue, pushes you closer toward that slurry edge. Closer to that blissful void where the world falls away, leaving you tenuous and weightless.

“Come for me, sweetling,” he urges against your cunt, employing his fingers to help get you there. They curl and twist and piston, the coiling sensation brewing in your stomach, slowly unwinding. And with a final nudge to your clit with his tongue, the world opens up and swallows you whole, making way for a blissful white, your tendons shaking, lips quivering around the vowels of his name. 

He strokes you through your orgasm. Kisses and licks until the stimulation borders pain, and you pull on his hair, quietly urging him to stop. He reluctantly draws away from your sex, towering over you, chin shining with your nectar in the gray hue of the light filtering in through your curtains. 

Your chest heaves as you greedily suck in oxygen. He strokes soothingly over your skin, watching you with all the fondness of the world. Pinches one of your nipples, and you wince, the aftershocks of your orgasm dragging over you like waves licking the shore. 

When you’ve fully sunk back into your skin, you’re reminded of how painfully hard he is, his girth pressing against your thigh, a dark patch of pre-spend staining the slit of his briefs. 

You sit up quickly, eager to please. Eager to reciprocate, fingers hooking beneath the elastic band, tugging down, and your mouth waters with the prospect of being wrapped around him. Of ingesting the briny edge of his pre-cum, sucking him sweetly into your mouth. But he stills you with a hand clasped around your wrist, a laugh dredged from his chest as if he’s perused the catalog of your thoughts. 

“Later, sweetheart,” he teases, splaying your fingers over his chest, where his heart beats a wild cadence just for you. He holds your gaze, scarlet irises brimming with tenderness. “For now, I want to ensure you truly desire this.”

He’s fucked you within an inch of your life on his tongue, on his fingers, and still, he seeks reassurance as if your mind will change with a sudden bout of whiplash.  

His mouth hinges open with the effort of breathing as your fingers ghost along the taut stretch of skin between his pectorals. Your hand eases down, wrist still ensnared by his pleasantly warm fingers, yet he doesn’t stop you this time when it dips into the slit of his underwear. He watches you as you tug him free, his turgid length slapping against his abdominals, a pretty, pearlescent strand of pre-spend catching in the low light, oozing from the tip, honey-slow.

Saliva puddles in your mouth at the sight of him. Red, swollen, and pulsing, and you guide your hand to the base of him, evoking a stifled sound and a shiver from his person when your fingers swallow him at the hilt. 

“I want you, Sylus,” you assure with all the conviction of the world. And you stroke him so good, his length hot and sturdy in your palm, twitching with each possessive tug. You’re enamored by the hoarse noises you evoke, each sound seemingly pinched from his lungs as if he fears pleasure. As if he’s never received it. 

Wordlessly, you lean back into your bed, guiding him against your slit. You coat his tip with your slick, sucking your lip between your teeth, watching him with lust-laden eyes as his carefully-constructed composure starts to crumble.

“You feel so good here, Sylus,” you laud, shocked by the low gravel of your own voice. How you mustered the courage to praise him, to tease him like this, your breaths collectively catching when the tip prods your opening. “So, so good. Need you…here.”

“Careful, sweetheart,” he bites off, catching himself on his palms, roosted on either side of your torso. Pressing his hips against you, testing the swollen barrier of your cunt. “If you keep talking to me like that, you might start something you won’t be able to finish.”

Your eyes shine with mirth, contrasting the terribly distracting thing you’re doing with your hand—with your pretty, sticky cunt. “Try me.”

Sylus snorts, swatting your hand away. You watch with bated breath as he tugs his briefs down, kicking them off to join your clothes on the floor. He anchors you to the bed with the welcomed weight of his body, his cock dragging through your folds, saturating the shaft with your slick. “Shall I go shake a tree for a condom before we get started?”

You blanch, whacking him on the chest. And he laughs something hearty, throaty, full-blooded, apologizing with a kiss as he feeds his cock into you, pushing into the tight webbing of your cunt. You share an exhale. Exchange a look with your foreheads pressed together, his eyes searching for any signs of discomfort as he strokes into you, easing his way home. 

You find he’s massive in more than just stature. And you feel so very full. So complete, shaky breaths in, ankles instinctively locking around his waist.

Once he’s fully slid home, hips rucked up against your pubic mound, he stills, mercifully granting you time to adjust. There’s a crease to his brows. A downward twitch to his lips as he scrutinizes you. You lure his mouth to yours to kiss away his concern, clenching around him once you’ve settled, signaling for him to move. 

You swallow each other’s groans as he fucks into you. Steady strokes at first, tempering the pace. Always such a gentleman, putting your needs first, his desires pushed to the back burner. He’s selfless in everything he does. You’ve already had your fill, the tang of your sex still emblazoned on his tongue as he pushes it into your mouth, and your hips surge off the bed, meeting him stroke for delicious stroke. 

He tears away from your mouth, straightening. Looms over you like something beastly, one hand clasped around your ankle, holding you nice and open for him whilst the other eases between your bodies, his thumb finding your clit with laser precision. 

His weighted balls knock against the cleft of your ass as he quickens the pace, twitching inside you, panting. Reveling in the love-drunk look on your face, how your mouth hangs open, words left unbidden on your tongue.

“Feels so nice,” he breathes betwixt each knock of his hips. “Never wanna stop. Taking me so well.”

Your hand slides down to press against his stomach, and you crane your neck to watch the union of your bodies. You feel like you’re in a dream, still in disbelief of what’s transpiring. This stranger who had dismantled the barrier you erected around your heart and pilfered it, rocking into you, the headboard cracking against the wall, chorusing with the thunder rolling over the horizon outside. 

That sparkling sensation builds again. Creeping like ivy through a lattice fence. You throw your head back, shutting your eyes. His fingers slip between the interstices of yours, pinning your hands to the bed as he fucks you, driven purely by instinct. By the sensation of you quaking around him, greedily sucking him in, never wanting to let go.

With one final snap of his hips, he comes undone, painting the gummy mesh of your cunt a sticky white, cum oozing down your inner thighs to stain the sheets below. He continues thumbing your clit as he pants, inching you off that plinth with him. 

“Another, sweetheart. Just like that. Give me one more,” he dotes, still buried deep inside you. You clench your teeth, rocking your hips in time with the swipe of his thumb. “Give it to me.” Your walls finally shudder around him, phosphenes dancing behind your lids, the world full of static and floating around you. 

You come undone for the second time that afternoon, this one lazier than the last, but still all-consuming. He falls against you, your bodies coated in a fine sheen of dewy sweat as you laugh. And you squeeze him in an embrace, ignoring how he crushes the air from your lungs with his weight. You could die happy like this, your affections reciprocated, desire sated.

He unsheathes himself from the hot suction of your cunt once your breaths have evened out. You groan from the extraction, feeling so lonely and empty when he disappears from your bedroom. But he returns shortly after, gently cleaning up the remnants of your lovemaking with a towel, chuckling now and again when you tease him with one of your terrible jokes.

The remainder of your day is spent swathed in his embrace, your hips notched up against his groin, until sleep claims him. His steady breaths tickle the sensitive skin behind your ear. With a smile rounding your lips, you watch the rain fall through the gauzy sweep of your curtains, lulled into a sleepy haze by its gentle symphony, by thunder stretching across the skyline, yawning like a sated cat.

You might not have caught the butterfly you’ve been hunting all week. But you’ve captured something much more appealing in its stead, you think, twisting in Sylus’ arms to admire him, gathering his cheeks in your palms, easing your thumbs over the tender swell of his lips. 

You watch his lashes dance with sleep, stroking the divot between his brows away with the pad of your thumb. You pan in to kiss him, something chaste and adoring, and his lips twitch upward against yours. He pulls you tighter against him, murmuring something incoherent before burying his chin into the hollow of your shoulder, a content sigh pushing through his nostrils.