#Like my grandma's fridge breaking down

[earanie]

you know when one day before going away _everything_ than can happen, happens?

spoiler alert: it is happening

[hyperballart]

last nite

art donaldson x patrick zweig x reader !

art and patrick aren’t exactly subtle, and you are the push they didn’t know they needed.

(18+ pls!!)

author’s note: that one bitch (me) who doesn’t play about homoerotic friendships… this is mostly artrick but they all get nasty trust!

the swishing of the cheap beer from art’s mini fridge overlaps the song playing from the radio. it was something you recognized from this new york band you really liked—your friend had gifted you that record for your birthday a few years prior—you hummed out the tune as you sat on the desk chair of your friend’s dorm room, periodically lifting your gaze to the two boys also sharing the space.

you and patrick met at a local band’s show, that same night ended with you being pushed into the dark bathroom of the bar it was held at and you nearly swallowing each other’s tongues. he whispered into your ear about how good you tasted, how nice your ass felt in his hands, how fucking sexy you looked dancing out there. and after he bent you over the sink to get a taste of your sweet cunt and you returned the favor, the brunette gave you his number—it surprised you, that he wanted to continue seeing you and maybe take it further. it wasn’t until a couple hangouts that you met art.

he was by definition a good boy. always respectful and cordial around you, sweet, and even bashful at times. you coincidentally attended the same university—even shared common friends other than patrick. the three of you became well acquainted quickly. movie nights in art’s dorm when patrick came to visit, night drives to the beach, it was all simple and fun.

of course you and patrick hooked up whenever he came around, which seemed to frequent as he was on a month-long break from tour. on one of those particular nights, as you were riding him, somehow the topic of art came up.

“saw him at practice last week,” you take his earlobe between your teeth and slightly tug, “he’s really good.”

patrick stutters his hips and unwillingly twitches inside of you, as if images of his best friend playing flashed through his brain in those few seconds, “fuck, yeah he’s always been good.” his brain is too foggy to comprehend that he’s given away something you’ve been suspecting for a while—and you’ll keep digging to find what you really want.

you look down at him on the bed and notice how his mouth has dropped a bit further and his eyes become more slanted, you push your fingers into his mouth which he automatically starts to suck, and you ride him until he’s whimpering around them and filling you up. you’ll get something else out of him soon.

the next time happens to be the night right after, you’re at your favorite ice cream place and decide it’s the right time to keep prodding.

“you and art—you seem pretty close—how long have you known each other again?” you scrape the sides of your cup from the melted treat and look at him eating his.

“well, we went to boarding school together,” patrick speaks with some waffle cone bits crunching in his mouth—a horrible habit of his you have come to detest from the few months of knowing him—“we shared a room since we were 12, i think i’ve mentioned this,” he swallows everything in his mouth down and continues, “we are pretty close. we’d get teased for it a lot in school—i never really gave a fuck but you know art. he takes things to heart.”

“right, i can see that,” you didn’t exactly plan out how you were going to lead him to where you wanted but you get an idea, “i wanna know more. tell me some fun stories, i can imagine you two got up to a lot of trouble,” you fully turn to face him in your seat.

he racks his brain for a while and eventually, “one time i got caught with porno magazines under my bed and i blamed art. it was this whole thing—his grandma gave him an earful over the phone—god she was pissed,” a chuckle leaves him as he recalls the story, “anyway, we almost got kicked out and he didn’t speak to me for weeks. can’t remember how we made up or how i even got in possession of those magazines but we definitely learned our lesson.”

you’re giggling, “god you’re awful, what else have you put poor innocent art through?”

he turns to face you now, “i taught him everything he knows,” a smug smirk slowly takes over his expression, “ taught him how to kiss and how to jerk off. poor thing didn’t even know how to handle morning wood before i showed him.”

and there’s your chance, “so you two have like…”

he pauses and takes in your assumption, “oh god no, not like that,” a hand runs down his face quickly as a laugh of disbelief leaves him. “we’ve never—would never go there, you know? no shame to anyone who does we just—it was practice before we started dating and all that. was just helping him out.”

and well, that gave you enough of an incentive.

now you’re all in art’s dorm, a little buzzed from the alcohol and tired from a day at the beach. patrick sits on a small couch with his legs spread. both boys have decided to forgo their shirts, only in their swim trunks—patrick’s much shorter than the blonde’s. you still in your bikini top and tiny jean shorts.

“what about that girl you were seeing, what’s her name again?” patrick interrogates a clearly agitated art who sits on the floor rolling his eyes.

“i told you that’s over, she wasn’t looking for anything serious and i found out the hard way.”

“he means he saw her making out with one of his buddies at a frat party,” you add smirking over your bottle.

“okay, fuck off first of all—“

“hey, man calm down, look—“ patrick interjected, “there’s lots of chicks that would bang you, i’m sure a pretty boy like you has no problem getting laid. go charm up some nice girl that volunteers at the soup kitchen on her free time and—“

“fuck you patrick.” there’s no malice behind his words though—and you can spot the blush that takes over his pale complexion at the previous remark as he shakes his head. “it’s easy for you to say,” he looks up at you as he says it, “you guys fuck like rabbits any chance you get.”

“is that what it is then? you being pent up?” you cut in. “there’s lot of girls here who would love to fuck you, artie. you’re telling me none have caught your eye?”

art is silent, looking to see what patrick was thinking, but the latter simply looks curious—excited almost— and so he just sits picking at the hem of his shorts.

“oh i get it,” you continue, “you’re jealous. you think i’m taking your precious best friend away, don’t you?” you slide down from the chair to take a spot right next to him and whisper the next thing so only he hears, “you are jealous. don’t worry, we can share him.”

you pull back to see his pupils dilated and his mouth slightly parted, in shock and arousal—maybe even in acceptance. you can’t help the small grin as you look from him to the other still sitting on the couch, you can see his chest rising a bit heavier now.

you feel that as an agreement from both as you perch on the bed and call them both to follow at each of your sides. you can feel them eyeing you and for a split second, you see them staring at each other in a way that surpasses anything platonic they insist on having.

when you feel them both lean in to opposite sides of your neck you halt their movements. a look of confusion passes through their faces as they wait for you to explain.

“i think you guys have some making up to do,” the look on their faces creases further, “art, aren’t you curious to feel what his lips are like again? i have a feeling he has improved greatly since you were 13.”

art’s face falls, he looks at patrick in annoyance, “you said you would never tell, dude what the fuck.”

patrick just shrugs, still wanting to proceed. “i told you, that was only for practice. we’re grown now.”

“sure,” you pretend to let it go and you have on a stupid smile that he just wants to kiss off your face. you start leaning towards patrick and grant him that wish, using your hand on his jaw to give you access to his tongue. it quickly becomes heated, you land on his lap and grind yourself on the hard bulge in his trunks. his big hand gropes your ass and he moans greedily in your mouth. you pull away and let him suck and nip on the length of your neck before looking at art, who looks pitiful with his mouth hung open and his eyes lingering on the spot where patrick is occupied. a smirk returns to your swollen lips.

you tug on patricks hair and swivel even harder on his dick, leading to him groaning out a fuck me baby, and you swear you see art’s cock twitch under the layer of thin clothing. you leave patricks lap despite his efforts to keep you there, now sat on the pretty blonde who can’t seem to figure out what to do with his hands. you stop his stressing when you place both of his palms on your hips, trailing them up to your barely-covered tits where he gives a soft squeeze and lets out a little whine. you finally lean down to kiss him and it’s as you’d expect from him—tentative and soft. a kiss you’d get from a boyfriend after a nice dinner date—not from whatever this was.

he lets out hums and low moans, but you can tell he’s getting desperate. god knows how long it’s been since he’s fucked something other than his hand. you pull away and return to your spot between them. they instantly both try to catch your lips, it’s messy with all three of you licking and sucking and kissing. at this point no one knows whose mouth is whose, and it doesn’t even matter because suddenly you’re pulling off. you lean back to catch your breath and then you see them.

they lick into each other’s mouths, art is mewling and patrick grips his curls to hold him in place. they seem to catch on after a ridiculous amount of time but when they do, they stare at you while they’re heaving breaths.

“are you guys gonna take care of that?” you look down at their laps, both having matching leaks of pre bleeding through their shorts. “come on get them out, you’ve seen each other plenty before right? nothing to be shy of.”

they both listen, each erection slapping up and standing on its own. it’s obscene and you dont think you’ve ever been this wet in your life. art’s cock is so pretty—you think—pink and curved. he is smooth, you always had assumed he would be anyway. you can tell he takes good care of himself, his balls the same flushed pink he gets on his cheeks when you tease him. the tip of him is so red, a dribble of white streaming down when he notices your attention on his cock—you almost coo at it when it twitches.

then you look at patrick. that same cock you love and worship. he’s thicker in girth, your pussy pulsates when your mind trails to the stretch he gives you. his balls are heavy, and he doesn’t ever fully shave them. you like them like that—the musk and how they give friction to your clit when hes fucking you. he’s also drooling from his tip. you decide to start off slow.

you scoot forwards and extend your arms to their laps. each one of your hands holds them and at the contact, they can’t help but buck their hips. you think it’s adorable to see them synchronized like that.

“ah, shit!” patrick throws his head back and looks down at you jerking him off, then looks to his right at the other cock in your hand and shakes his head in disbelief, “i can’t—fuck—i can’t believe you’re doing this.”

“i see the way you look at him, pat,” you quicken the speed of your hands and both of them cry out, “i gave you both what you wanted, handed on a silver fucking platter. i think you should be a little more grateful. in fact, my hands are getting tired,” and with that, you cut all contact with them and you can quite literally see them wilt.

“wha- no, please,” art manages to get through a whine, “my hand doesn’t—it doesn’t feel as good i’m so hard it hurts, please—“

“who said anything about using your own hand?”you cut him off.

patrick hesitantly stretches his arm over his friend’s lap, “we’re just,” his fingers make contact with art’s dick and he almost drools, “helping each other out.” an experimental tug has his back arching and makes him shut his eyes tight.

“pat-patrick—oh fuck.”

one would think art already came by how much he’s wetting his friend’s hand, and patrick seems to be mesmerized by the sight. “holy fuck art, look at how much you’re spilling,” as if on cue, that makes him squirt out more. art is gripping his sheets and his eyes dart from the hand stroking him fast and the boy in front of him.

“i’m—don’t go so fucking fast,” art tries to get out, “it’s been a while if—nghh—if you don’t slow down i’m gonna—fuck!” patrick clearly enjoys this as he can’t help laughing at his state.

“don’t tell me you’re a virgin, artie,” he slows down but continues teasing, “thought i taught you how to hold off better than that.”

and while you’d love to keep watching art squirm under his torture, you stop him, “i got an idea.”

patrick reluctantly pulls away and they both now stare expectantly, “push both of your cocks together, here like this—“ you direct them to sit with their legs spread in front of each other, overlapping and then you position them how you want them.

they can’t even speak, they’re just panting and looking down at the contact until you continue, “come on pat, hold both of them together,” you watch as he does so and grimaces trying to hold off, “look at that, your tips are kissing—how cute.”

they both whine and patrick mutters a shut up under his breath.

after a minute of heavy breathing, patricks large hand slowly strokes down on both of their cocks. it’s so wet, the sound of the slicking lewdly filling up the room but the sound of their cries is almost enough to drown it out. art is almost sobbing at this point, you’ve never heard someone sound so desperate. they almost can’t bare the friction of each other, their tangled legs twitching and shaking.

you almost start to get annoyed at how slow patrick is going for the sake of making the feeling last, but in a way you think it’s sweet. the years they’ve held off on each other finally leading to this—they deserved it. you’re still annoyed tho.

“go faster,” as the words leave your mouth they both mewl and shake their heads, “you look so hot like this, i’m so wet. i’m thinking of letting you both fuck me—at the same time. just like this, both in my cunt,” patrick’s hand loosens his grip he is almost shivering now, he has to hold off, “why’d you let go, hm?” you pull his hand back on, “i want you both to imagine it, it’s gonna be a tighter fit than this,” you pull your hand over patrick’s and tighten the grip hard, “there you go.”

art can’t even make out words anymore, the second he heard you say you wanted them both at once, his ears started ringing. as if that wasn’t enough, the tightened grip made him moan out pleas over and over. when he looks down, he knows he can’t hold longer and he lets you both know, “i’m gonna, i can’t it’s too much, too much, too tight i—“

you take this as your chance to do what you wanted since you saw the tent in his shorts, you lean down to where they are connected and suckle on his tip and that does it. he sobs out a curse and starts twitching, he cums all over your lips and patrick, you can’t believe how much is coming out of him.

patrick just about loses his mind when he sees it all happen. it’s a miracle he lasted over two minutes like this and he’s about to pass out, “oh fuck me, yeah fucking soak that dick—oh god— you’re so wet—how do you get this fucking—“ he suddenly yanks art by his neck and fucks his tongue into his mouth again, and even tho he is still dizzy from his orgasm, he kisses back just as messily. that’s the final straw for patrick to cum all over them and squeeze their tips together for the last time that night.

you watch it all happen with a lazy smile. they both lay down, still out of it while you scratch their heads gently and murmur sweet affirmations to them. you’re between them and it feels just right. you don’t need to talk about what happened just yet. just sleepily kiss each other until you knock out.

they’ll make up not making you cum tomorrow, you can picture them both licking between your legs and when they take turns suckling your clit, you’ll pretend not to notice how they’re jerking each other off out of your sight <3

[heizlut]

Promises To Keep

⟡ cw: none

⟡ tags: fem!reader, zayne, angst⇢comfort⇢smut, vague allusions to chapter 4 so slight spoiler warning?

⟡ 4.9k words (officially my longest fic!)

⟡ co-written with da bf @knihil everyone say thank you knihil!🖤

⟡ nsfw under the cut

⟡ m!list here

Zayne stood at his office window, looking out into the night. He was haunted by the memory of your grandma telling him to take care of you always; that it would do both of you some good. He lets out a sigh and runs his fingers through his dark hair, feeling frustrated at himself. Zayne has known you since you were young and he always held you close in his heart.

He wanted to run to you and hold you in his arms. To comfort you and see you smile again, but after what happened, you had told him you needed time to yourself and left without another word.

The nights seemed even longer to you as you wrestled with your grieving; your cries and sobs accompanying your solitary mourning. Your tears spilt from your eyes, falling on your blanket like the rain against your bedroom window. Everything feels so cold…

It had been too long since you'd last seen Zayne. It wasn’t always easy to find time to spend together with both your busy schedules, but even more so now that you refused to leave your apartment. You're the one who asked for space, the one who walked away from his open arms. You thought space was what you needed, but now you feel far more hurt than before. You grieve and you hurt, knowing you pushed away the one person who always wanted the best for you.

A knock on your door startles you from your sorrowful stupor. You sniffle and wipe your tears with the sleeve of your sweatshirt as you get up and make your way to the door. The knock sounds again, “I know you’re in there. Please… Just open the door.” Your chest tightens when you hear Zayne’s voice. His typically unemotional tone sounds like a holy choir to you, answering your subconscious pleas for his presence.

You crack open the door and look up at him, his hazel eyes meeting yours immediately. There’s a flash of uncharacteristic worry in Zayne’s eyes as he sees your tear-stained cheeks and he sighs, “Can you let me in?” You frown but nod, opening the door a little more so that he could step inside. You shut the door once he's inside and sit on your couch, holding your knees to your chest.

Zayne sits down beside you, leaving a little space between the two of you. You eyes are cast down to the floor as you sit silently and he looks at you, "Have you been taking care of yourself?" The way you pull your knees closer to your chest is all the answer he needs. Zayne lets out a deep breath, "Have you at least eaten today?" Your eyes finally meet his and you simply shake your head. He purses his lips and stands up, "I'll make you something then."

Your gaze trails after him and he heads to your kitchen. Zayne frowns when he opens your fridge to find only a few breakfast ingredients and nothing else. He pulls out the eggs and sausage and silently begins to prepare you a meal.

Sizzles and pops from the breakfast cooking in the pan are the only sounds in the apartment. Zayne finally breaks the silence, adjusting the ingredients in the pan with a spatula, "I know things have been hard lately, but you need to take care of-"

He's caught off guard by the feeling of your arms wrapped around his torso and your body pressed against his from behind, "What're you doing?" You hold him tighter and press your cheek against his back before speaking softly, voice weak and shaky from all the crying you had done earlier, "Thank you..." Zayne's body relaxes and he carefully plates your meal, struggling only slightly as you wouldn't let him go.

A ghost of a smile plays on his lips when he speaks again, "Come on. Let me go... You need to eat." You frown and bury your face into his back. Zayne breathes out a small laugh as he turns in your arms, facing you now. You frown up at him and he can't help but think how cute you look. He smooths down your hair, "I'll stay the night and let you hold me as long as you want, but only if you eat first."

You reluctantly let go and he smiles softly down at you, "There you go." Zayne holds the plate of breakfast food out to you, "Go on and eat now. Doctors orders." Your emotional demeanor cracks just a little at his half-playful words and you take the plate from him, "Fine, I'll eat." You sit yourself down at your table and take a small bite of the sausage and eggs. Your eyes close as you take in the flavor. It wasn't anything special, but it was the first meal you had eaten in a couple days.

Zayne sits across from you, watching as you finished off the rest of the food rather quickly, "It seems that this was definitely necessary..." His eyes soften, "I'm glad I stopped by." One corner of your lips curls into a hint of a smile and you nod, "...Me too." You move to take your dish to the sink but Zayne stops you, his voice low and serious, "Let me take care of you." Your heart flutters and you can only gawk at him as he takes the plate from you and puts it in the sink.

Turning back to face you, Zayne gives you an expectant look, "Well? What would you like now?" You play with the sleeves of your sweatshirt and you look up at him, speaking softly, "Can we just lay down and... talk?" He studies you as you speak, watching the way your sleeves partially cover your hands as your fingers pick at the hems, "Yes. I promised I would stay here if you ate and you did." He would've stayed whether you ate the food or not. All he cared about was making you happy again…

Zayne follows you to your bedroom, taking in the clothes that are scattered across your floor and your bed half-made, "Maybe I should try to stay for the weekend and help you clean up..." Your cheeks flush in embarrassment and you look away from him. "Don't be embarrassed", Zayne's deep voice brings your attention back to him, "I'm here to help. I always have been." You huff, "Yeah, as my doctor.." He gives you a disappointed look and takes you hand in his, "It's more than that. Don't act as though that's all we are to each other."

You frown as you eyes meet his hazel ones and you mutter, "Sorry..." He sits on your bed and pulls you to him, "Come here." You sit down next to him and look down at your hand in his. With his free hand, Zayne redirects your gaze back to him with his fingers against your jaw, "Look at me." He searches your eyes when you finally listen, "You mean more to me than I can properly express..." Zayne reaches forward and runs his fingers through your hair, "I made a promise to someone and I intend to keep it."

You absentmindedly lick your lips as your eyes trail down to his lips. Zayne takes notices and leans his face a little closer to yours and speaks in a hushed voice, "May I?" Your shining lips part as you nod, allowing him to move forward. His lips meet yours in the most gentle kiss, lingering on yours for a moment before he moves back; his thumb rubbing across your cheek, "It pains me to know that you've been keeping yourself here, stuck in your own grief..." You lean into his touch and take a deep breath, "I just need time, Zayne..."

He presses a kiss to your forehead, "I know. But I won't allow you to do this on your own anymore." Your heart swells. Zayne isn't usually one to outwardly express his emotions, but things were different now. He just wanted you to be happy again. He pulls you in for a tight embrace; muscular arms keeping you pressed against him. You relax in his arms, your head nuzzled into the crook of his neck and you breathe in his scent.

Zayne smooths your hair down lovingly and kisses the top on your head, "How about I prepare a bath for you? I want you to be able to relax." You think for a moment then nod, "Okay... I think that would be nice..." You raise your head to look up at him, "Thank you.." He gives you a subtle smile and releases you from his embrace, "Of course."

The sound of running water is soothing as the tub fills up, steam billowing over the edge and swirling around the bathroom. Zayne rummages through your bathroom cabinets, in search of anything that could make the bath more soothing for you. Finding what he was looking for, he straightens up, holding a bag of lavender bath salts and a scented candle. The handle squeaks when he turns off the water and little droplets drip from the spout.

You walk in as Zayne is putting in a scoop of the bath salts and you watch the little crystal-like grains float to the bottom. He speaks without looking at you as he closes the bag and set it on the counter, "The bath salts will help your muscles relax and soothe any other aching you may be experiencing." One corner of your lips twitch in slight amusement with the way he could go from being a loving boyfriend to your primary care physician.

Zayne continues on as he lights the vanilla scented candle for you, the warm glow reflecting on his face, "The scent of vanilla will help relax your mind, as well as reduce your heart rate and blood pressure." He finally looks to you with a raised eyebrow when he hears the softest laughter come from you, "Did I say something to amuse you?" He can hardly act stern when he finally sees the small smile that plays on your lips; the corners of his turn upwards, "Nevermind. It's good to see you smile again..."

You shift your weight on your feet as you feel the butterflies in your stomach, trying to allow yourself to feel happy amidst everything that has happened. It felt wrong and your smile slips. Zayne takes notice and looks concerned as he approaches you. He softly grips your chin and tilts your head up to his, "You are allowed to feel happiness. Do not try to convince yourself otherwise." You release a breath as you take in his words, "You're right... I'm sorry." He purses his lips, "Don't apologize." Zayne releases his grip only to caress your cheek, "Come on. I don't want the water to cool."

You nod and reach for the hem of your sweatshirt and Zayne looks away, stepping around you to leave the bathroom and give you privacy, but you catch his wrist, "Stay." He searches your features as if he was making sure you really wanted that. You look sincere and you speak softly, "Now that you're here, I... Don't want to be left alone anymore." Zayne's relaxes and nods once, "Then I'll stay."

With his answer, you let go of his wrist and lift your sweatshirt over your head, letting it drop to the tiled floor beneath you. Your breasts lift and fall with your motion, and Zayne swallows hard. You turn around and bend over slightly as you slip your sleep shorts and panties down your legs. He reflexively averts his gaze even though he had seen you bare before, underneath him and sharing heavy breaths.

You step into the tub of steaming water, the tension visibly leaving your body as you settle in. Zayne finally steals a glance at you, hazel eyes wandering from your relaxed face to the way the water rippled around your breasts to the rhythm of your slow breathing. You crack open one eye and peek at him, chuckling softly to yourself when you catch where his gaze is. The soft sound of your laughter snaps him out of it and he looks away, clearing his throat, "I apologize. I shouldn't-"

You shush him, opening your eyes fully now, "Now you're the one apologizing. It's not necessary." He chews at the inside of his cheek and frowns, "I know, but... Still. You're still in the grieving process and here I am being... inappropriate." This pulls a full laugh from you and you sit up a little straighter; the warm water sloshing from the disturbance; breasts now resting on top of the water.

The sound of your laughter and the better view of your breasts sends tingles straight to his heart and down to the bulge he was beginning to sport under his slacks. Zayne huffs and pinches the bridge of his nose, "There you go laughing again when I'm trying to be serious..." Your laughter dies down and you smile softly, extending your hand towards him, "Come here..." He looks down at your hand and then back to your face as he ponders your request.

With a heavy sigh, he comes to you, kneeling down by the side of the tub, "What do you need?" You keep your hand open, palm facing upwards and give him a small pout. Zayne now knows exactly what you're asking for. He looks a bit annoyed, but truthfully he didn't mind doing this for you whenever you requested. He rests his jaw in your palm and his hazel eyes meet yours, "Are you happy now?"

You nod with a little smile as he gives a ghost of his own and leans back again, "I think you've been in there long enough. If you stay much longer, you'll dehydrate." Without waiting for a response from you, Zayne stands back up and grabs your towel from the hook and holds it open for you. You let out a breath as you carefully rise up, not wanting to slip. Zayne wraps the towel around your body and without warning, swoops you up bridal style, making you gasp, "Zayne!"

He looks down at you with a confused expression as if what he did was a perfectly normal thing to do, "What?" You pout as he holds you closer, taking you back to the bedroom, "A little warning would've been nice..." Zayne ignores your comment and lowers your legs first to let you stand on your own. You adjust the towel around your body, turning your back to him, and go to grab a fresh set of pajamas. Zayne watches you closely as you move; his cock stirring in his slacks once again.

As soon as your towel drops to the ground, he's fighting the urge to to take you where you stand. You slip on one of his oversized sweatshirts that you had stolen borrowed from him and then turn to face him. He puts on a disapproving face, even though on the inside Zayne felt his heart skip, "My sweatshirt... You do realize I have been looking everywhere for that one right?" You crack a sheepish grin, "Oops?" Zayne huffs out a breath, "It's fine." Then he mutters, "It looks better on you anyways..."

You smile a little at his comment and sit on the bed, "You know.. You still have some clothes here. If you're going to stay you should change too. I washed them for you." Zayne raises a brow at that, about to make a teasing remark about you being able to wash his clothes but not the ones scattered across your floor, but he holds his tongue. Now was not the right moment to make a comment about that now that he had you feeling a bit better.

Instead he nods and and turns to find his clothes folded neatly on top of your dresser. Grabbing a pair of sweats and a plain white t-shirt, he heads to your bathroom to change, "One moment." You watch as he closes the bathroom door behind him, still open just a crack. You can't help but peek at him as he undresses from his formal work attire, absentmindedly licking your lips as your eyes trail down his form.

He slips the clean, comfortable clothes on and comes back out to you, taking note of the slight blush of your cheeks, "Are you feeling sick?" Zayne presses the back of his hand against your forehead. You laugh softly and grab his wrist and press a kiss to his palm, "I'm not sick." The feeling of your kiss lingers on his palm once you release him, "That's good then..."

You lay back on the mattress and look up at the ceiling and then sigh, looking back to Zayne, "I thought you said you'd lay with me?" He gives a hint of a smile and lays down beside you, propping himself up with his hand as he faces you. You both stay silent for a moment, simply taking in each other's presence before Zayne is the first one to speak, "Tell me, what more can I do to make you feel better?"

You turn your body towards him, eyes trailing down from his eyes to his lips and lingering for a moment, “Just… hold me.” The slightest smile appears in his lips and he pulls you close. His hand rests on the back of your head as your face nuzzles into his chest.

Zayne presses three slow little kisses to the top of your head, breathing in your scent. “I’ve got you and I’m never going anywhere”, his voice comes out hushed with a hint of sentimentality that makes your heart swell in your chest.

You let out a small breath, pressing yourself impossibly closer against his body, wishing you could just melt into him. As his arms tighten around you, the realization that you're not the only one with an aching wish hits you.

Surprised, you unearth your face from his chest only to be met by the sensation of his lips upon yours. You detect the gentleness, the care and longing he feels for you through the kiss… And something more.

There's a hunger you can taste in his embrace, and it takes everything in you not to moan out in response. Zayne's cock twitches beneath his sweats and he lets a small groan escape from his lips against yours. The sound alone has arousal pooling between your legs and your tongue prods against his before finding a sensual rhythm.

His hands begin to wander down your body and rest on your ass as he gives it a gentle squeeze, grinding his clothed cock against you. Zayne pulls back just enough to speak huskily, "Tell me to stop and I will." All you can do is shake your head, not trusting your voice enough to form proper words in this moment.

Right now, all you wanted was to lose yourself in him, to forget everything you've been through up until this moment. All that mattered was you and Zayne and your burning need for him.

A small smirk plays on his lips and he adjusts his position, now with you underneath him. Your eyes lock onto his, your lips parted slightly in a breathless and wordless need. "You don't need to say anything, sweetheart...", Zayne starts, leaning down as he presses a soft kiss to your temple, "I told you I would take care of you and that's a promise I will always keep."

The cutest little whimper escapes your lips, making him let out a soft chuckle as his hands trail up under your sweatshirt, "It seems I have quite the effect on you..." Your back arches to met his touch and his thumbs brush over your hardened nipples. "That's it, sweetheart. Just relax and enjoy this."

You couldn't ignore the request, not that you wanted to anyways. Zayne's calloused hands felt electric against your heated skin, sending a pleasurable shiver up your spine and straight to your core. God, just this is enough to have your entrance clenching for him.

The process of grieving, cocooned in your solitude and away from Zayne almost made you forget how badly your body needed him. Almost. As if he can sense your burning need, one of his hands trails down your abdomen and rests on your thigh. His fingertips begin to lightly trace towards your soaking pussy, Zayne's off hand still molding around the swell of your breast, "Go on and spread your legs for me, love. Let me make you feel better..."

Your breath hitches and you obey his gentle command, spreading your legs apart and exposing your needy hole to him. Zayne's hot breath fans over your lips as a small smile plays on his, "Oh, so you can follow instructions..." You would've rolled your eyes as you usually would at a playful comment like that from him, but this wasn't under normal circumstances. You were way too needy for him right now and it was apparent in the soft little whine that comes out.

Zayne's fingers inch towards where you're aching for his touch and your hips instinctively raise up. Your eyes almost roll all the way back the second his thumb grazes against your clit and begins to move in slow circles, drawing out a moan from your lips.

Your exclamation of pleasure is swallowed by him as his lips seal around yours, Zayne's thumb now moving with far more vigor. Both of you are locked in a dance of sensuality, tasting each other's breaths and sounds as he unrelentingly draws out every drop of your want.

“You’re always so beautiful…”, Zayne breathes out, his thumb now slick from your arousal. You do your best to keep your eyes on his, but everything feels so hazy in the best of ways. All because of him, always because of him. Before you can even beg him for more, he nips lightly at your bottom lip and his voice comes out husky, “Please tell me I can take you right here, right now…”

He leans back just enough that his lips still graze yours as his hazel eyes search yours to make sure you’re still doing okay. He would do anything for you. He would even stop everything if you asked him to despite his hardened cock throbbing with need for you and you alone.

All you can manage is a small nod of your head and that’s all it takes for him to begin to tug down his sweats. But then he pauses, letting out a gruff sigh earning him a confused and dazed look from you. Seeing the look in your eyes, a soft hint of a smile plays on his lips, it's reassuring, “This isn’t about me right now, my love. This is about making you feel better and here I was about to be selfish.”

You paused for a moment and let out a huff of laughter, “You can be sel-“ Your words are interrupted by his quick readjustment of position and his mouth suddenly around your clit.

You suck in a sharp breath, your head tilts up against the plush pillow as your pretty lips part in pleasure. Zayne’s tongue flicks out as he begins to lap at your clit with gentle measure and just enough pressure to leave you whining for more friction.

Your hips buck slightly to meet his movements as his tongue slides between your folds and laps up your sweet arousal. If it was up to him, he would’ve stayed there all night, perfectly content to focus on your pleasure alone, but you wanted… no. You needed more. Your fingers slide into his soft dark hair, giving it a gentle tug to draw his attention to you.

Reluctantly, Zayne’s eyes meet yours once more, but not before giving your clit a little lick, “What is it, love?” You let out a breath that conveys your neediness more than any words ever could and Zayne knows you well enough to know exactly what you’re asking for.

Zayne gives a small smirk as he sits up, his eyes locked on yours, and tugs down his sweats, freeing his thick and throbbing length. Precum glistens on the tip and so much has gathered that it begins to drip down in a pearlescent strand that has you licking your lips.

Zayne’s large hand strokes his cock in a tantalizing motion that you can’t take your eyes off of. Slowly, he lowers himself once more and you spread your legs a little wider to accommodate his toned frame. His dripping tip rubs against your entrance, catching lightly on your clit which makes you draw in a breath.

“Tell me if it gets to be too much”, Zayne breathes out lowly before gently breaching your tight, slick walls. His nose scrunches up in pleasure as he lets out a groan. The feeling of being filled up by him feels heavenly and your mind immediately goes blank.

“Fuck, sweetheart… I swear you were made for me and me alone”, Zayne growls out softly. Once he’s fully inside, stretching you out so perfectly, he relaxes against you. His toned chest presses against your breasts and his nose nuzzles against yours, “You’re so perfect…” Everything about this moment is perfection. It’s something you didn’t even realize how much you missed in your time away from him until this very moment.

Zayne begins to move in a slow rhythm that has you feeling every inch of him, the tip of his leaking cock pressing into the deepest part of you and the thickness of his length that fills you in a way that makes you feel as though you’re finally complete.

Zayne presses little kisses against your lips as he makes love to you in the sweetest way. All he cares about is your comfort, pleasure, and happiness. He always has and always will be your sword and shield. In the days where you feel as if the world itself is hellbent on delivering a rain of sorrow upon your soul, Zayne will brave the downpour alongside you. In the coldest of nights, his embrace will continue to serve you as the warmest suit of armor. His love for you is ultimate. You are his reason.

Your voice breaks, the sound that leaps from your throat being an emotional mix of a sob and a moan. “Zayne, I-I need you.” You swear you can feel his cock throb against your upper walls in response to your declaration. Through all of your shared history, you can't recall a single time where you've produced such a raw profession of love. And, as your eyes flutter open to meet his, you know he understands the same.

“I’m here and I’m not going anywhere”, Zayne whispers against your lips, “Not now, not ever.” Before you can even form a response of your own, his lips seal around yours in the most tender of kisses. His hips follow suit, rolling and meeting your own with the most passionate and loving of movements. You moan into his mouth, breathing out into him as he breathes you in.

Your arms instinctively wrap around his neck, pulling him impossibly closer to you. His skin against yours, his cock drooling within your clenching walls, the taste of his moans upon your eternally wanting mouth… You feel yourself becoming one with Zayne. Your tight walls begin to squeeze around his cock, signaling how close you were to your end.

“Fuck…”, Zayne growls out in response to the feeling, thrusting a little harder as his cock throbs with the need to cum. But, again, this wasn’t about him. His priority is you.

Zayne reaches down and begins to thumb your clit in quick but measured circles, “Cum for me, my love. I need to feel you cum around my cock.” His breathing is labored as he desperately tries to hold back from filling you with his cum. He’s so desperate to bring you to your own orgasm before he allows himself to cum.

With a sweet cry from your swollen, kissed lips, you come undone around his thick length. Your walls pulsate around his cock, causing Zayne to bury his face into your neck with a groan. He can’t hold back any longer as his cock begins to throb wildly and thick ropes of cum spill inside of you. The feeling of his hot seed pooling inside of you, his breath pelting your sensitive neck…

You lose yourself to the torrent of pleasure that gushes from between your legs. “I love you…”, you breathe your need for him to life as you both simultaneously reach your peak. Zayne’s body relaxes on top of yours, his cock still nestled inside your soaked pussy.

You both lay there for a moment. Your hearts are both beating wildly, yet somehow still in sync. He presses a soft kiss to your forehead, your nose, and then your lips before he speaks so softly and full of warmth, “I’ll always be here for you, my love.”

You feel your eyelids grow heavy, a grand warmth soothing every nerve in your body. Every ounce of love that Zayne houses within his heart has poured into you, and for the first time in your life, you accept it all without pretext. As your eyes close and before the soothing stillness of sleep takes you, a final sentence falls from his lips.

“I promise.”

.𖥔 ݁ ˖⋆ ˚❆.𖥔 ݁ ˖⋆ ˚❆.𖥔 ݁ ˖⋆ ˚❆.𖥔 ݁ ˖⋆ ˚❆ .𖥔 ݁ ˖⋆

a/n: fun fact, i started this back in march and lost touch with it but HERE WE ARE!

[totaly-obsessed]

Could you write for ella toone that's angst like she looses a match or something and takes it out on r and then tries everything to make it up to r

Groveling Time

Ella Toone x reader request

-> Ella does not cope well after losing a game and takes her anger out on you, her girlfriend

-> First request! Let me know what you think!

➳ Masterlist

•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•

Gamedays were always special, especially for Ella. Being able to represent her childhood club with you by her side was so dear and near to her heart – she loved every single moment of it.

With the new season and not only Alessia missing from the Manchester United crew, but many of her friends having changed clubs, it was tough for the brunette and it was hard on her mind.

You were her rock. She loved knowing that she could lean on you if she ever needed to – a realization that had not come easy to her.

But this week was different, and you both knew it. It was yet another Sunday and Manchester United would meet Manchester City in a derby. This alone was another level of stress, there would be a huge upturn to the game with fans being very dedicated to their respective teams.

But the worst thing for Ella? You could not be there.

It was your grandma’s eightieth birthday and with her being very sick, your family never knew how much longer they had with her. You had asked Ella if she wanted to join you because then you would try to convince the rest of the family to push it to Monday – but your girlfriend insisted that she would be fine and that she wanted you to have a nice day with your family.

During dinner you tried to check your phone as often as you could, trying to stay updated on how your girlfriend’s team was doing. Seeing the 2-0 to Manchester City before the halftime break was hard, knowing how much Ella would blame herself, looking for mistakes in herself. Being the ‘worlds-best girlfriend’ as Ella crowned you, was not easy – but you decided to shoot her a quick text during the break.

‘Hello Gorgeous! Keep ya head up – cannot wait to see you tonight. I love you so much.’

It was sappy, but you knew that the young lioness loved it even if she would deny it till the day she died.

You arrived home before Ella did – so you made dinner.

Ella’s comfort food, knowing that she would not take the 3-0 loss easy. Some leftover cake was chilling in the fridge, waiting for dessert.

But it was getting later and later by the second – without Ella showing up at your shared home. You had texted Katie Zelem oven an hour ago, asking if she was with her and if they had plans for the night. The Manchester United captain however could not help you with your search for your girlfriend – telling you that Ella had left in her car as soon as she could.

By now you were incredibly hungry, having waited for the brunette for three hours seated on the couch, preparing lessons for the following day. At some point, you had turned the stove off and put everything in Tupperware placing it next to the cake in the fridge.

After waiting for a while longer, you started writing a little note to your girlfriend that you placed where she stored her bag so that she would definitely see it. ‘I was tired. ‘Dinner is in the fridge – cake too. Love you!’

You had already gotten ready for bed and nearly fallen asleep when you heard the front door fall shut. With slow steps, you trotted down the steps “Ella?” But you did not get an answer.

With your note in hand, your girlfriend stood in the kitchen. You tripped over her shoes that she had just flung onto the floor, the entryway being a complete mess. Bag in one direction, shoes in another – her jacket just in the middle of the ground. “Baby?”

She had her back turned to you, hands balled to fists by her side, your note crumbled in of them. There still was no reaction. You had gotten closer now, resting your hand on her back, trying to comfort her – but she shrugged you off. “Couldn’t have waited for me huh? First, you don’t show up for my game and then you don't even wait for me!”

Sure, she usually had a loud voice, but now she was just yelling into your face. Ella had turned around with so much force, that she had pushed you back a little. “I’m sorry baby but I was at my grand-“

“I don’t care! You should put me first! We lost because of you and your selfishness!” Tears were quickly making their way to your eyes, mirroring the brunette's bloodshot ones.

She clearly was not herself right now, so you tried to avert her attention. “Do you want me to heat up dinner?” A sharp scoff left you flinching back once she ripped the fridge open.

“No need – you didn’t even wait for me. Already ate huh? What a nice day. Leaving your girlfriend hanging, visiting your stupid family, and eating alone. How fun.” Her words hurt, she spat at you with such anger that it terrified you.

You had never thought that you would fear Ella. But the usually bubbly and funny girl was not herself right now. “And what are you wearing? Always stealing my shit! Don’t you have clothes for yourself?”

Tears were running down your cheeks as you looked at your mirror image in the dark window. You were wearing one of Ellas' big shirts – she usually loved seeing you in her clothes, even making you change out of your own so that you could wear hers.

“I think I will just go to bed baby. Maybe you will have calmed down tomorrow.” Your feet were already on the stairs as you heard her muttering “Sure. Just leave me like you always do.”

It hurt, so much. You opted for the guest bedroom, leaving the brunette in the comfort of your joined room. Once upon a time, you had thought that maybe, just maybe this room could be used for your future child.

If there even was a joined future.

But you were determined to work at what was wrong – not wanting to throw everything away just like that. But Ella did not even enter the bedroom, she left again, the door falling into place behind her as you heard the car start outside.

Just as a precaution, you texted Katie as well As Mary and Millie – explaining to them that Ella was in a bad mood and to please tell you if she showed up at their place so that you knew that she was safe.

It was Mary who was the last to answer, telling you that your girlfriend was at her home.

Now that you had time to settle, the anger set in. So instead of sleeping like intended, you sorted your clothes – taking every single piece of clothing that you had from Ella, folding it neatly, and setting it down on her side of the bed.

As much as you wanted to, you couldn’t just hide her training gear – placing everything neatly in place. As angry as you were that Ella took her own anger out on you, you could never deliberately do something that could hurt her career.

The dinner in the fridge that neither of you had eaten was turned into your lunch at school – your students excitedly asking about it.

Ella meanwhile had gotten her brainwashed by Mary as she crashed on her couch – the goalkeeper refusing to give her teammate the guest bedroom.

The brunette knew that she had messed up.

Your joined home was empty when she came back in the morning. Her chaos was gone, as was the food in the fridge – once entering the bedroom she saw all her clothes. The clothes she loved to see you in.

Her heart broke even further. How could she hurt you like that?

After allowing herself to cry for a couple of minutes, hugging your pillow close to her your note from the night before tightly pressed to her chest, she took a shower and started to prepare.

It was groveling time.

It was still much too early to start dinner for when you came home, so she started with her folded clothes. The brunette put them back into the closet – your side of it. She didn’t want you to stop wearing them.

After that she started the already full dishwasher and washing machine in the time those were running, she started to remove the stains on the couch that you had been complaining about forever now. After emptying the dishwasher and starting the dryer, Ella turned to your most neglected room – your office.

The desk was a mess and there were papers all over the room. She started with sorting the papers – art projects of your students into one folder, and vocabulary tests that you had yet to grade in another one.

After a while she had made a good dent into your chaos – so that she could actually see the table again. It took her two hours until she considered the room as done – putting the vacuum back in its rightful place.

The time on the clock nearly gave her a heart attack – it was time to start dinner and prepare her speech.

Entering your home felt like entering the lion’s den – and you hated it.

The smell of dinner was overwhelming. You did not know what you had been expecting but fresh flowers, cooked dinner, and a cleaned house were not what you had in mind.

It seemed like Ella knew that she had seriously messed up.

“Hello, Ella.”

The brunette at the stove turned around at the speed of light at your voice – not having heard you walk in. “Hi, baby.”

The smile on her face was hesitant but seeing you, without steam coming out of your ears seriously calmed her down. “I think I have something to make up to you.”

It did not take a trained eye to see just how nervous the footballer was – but being her girlfriend certainly helps. “I think you do – but before you start, I would like to hear that you’re sorry and what made you act that way.”

Big eyes looked at you – head nodding so fast that you doubted that Ella could actually see clearly. It was safe to say, that you were spoiled for the evening – Ella making sure that you could not stay mad at her with everything in her power.

[rottenpumpkin13]

It's been a while...how are things going in the Shinra/SOLDIER groupchat? 👉🏻👈🏻

Highlights From The SOLDIER Group Chat #3

• Director Lazard used to be the admin, but he had a nervous breakdown after Zack kept changing the group chat name to "Therapy" and having one-on-one sessions with people where he offered horrible advice.

• The final straw was Sephiroth asking how he should cope with his desire for a connection with an older, maternal figure. Zack linked a dating site for MILFs.

• Sephiroth is now the admin. At least four people now have Sephiroth's contact name to Admin-Roth.

• Sephiroth has removed Genesis on numerous occasions and for various reasons, the most recent one being:

Genesis: Hello! How is everyone today?

[Sephiroth has removed Genesis]

• Angeal sending those glittery and colorful good morning gifs (the type grandmas send)

• The following conversation:

Lazard: Sephiroth, kindly remove 'Cloud Strife'. This group chat is exclusive to SOLDIER members only for safety reasons.

[Cloud Strife is now an admin]

Lazard: .........

• Kunsel changing the group chat name to "Reasons why Genesis is a bitch" and the reasons pouring in immediately after. Genesis got into a verbal dispute with four people through voice messages.

• The following conversation:

Lazard: Which one of you placed an entire thanksgiving turkey in the break room fridge?

Zack: I did. That's my afternoon snack.

Sephiroth: I must apologize. I took a leg thinking it was for everyone to share.

Zack: No worries bud :)

• The trend of sending pictures of Sephiroth's hair strands throughout the 49th floor.

• The time when Angeal and Genesis were seriously arguing over whether a taco is a hot dog or a sandwich, and Sephiroth changed the group chat name to 'They have kissed before' mid-argument.

• The following conversation:

Zack: @Angeal Dude your pancake recipe does NOT work.

Angeal: Lol. Are you making it right now?

Zack: Yup.

Angeal: Alright show me how far you got. Maybe I can help :)

Zack:

[Angeal has left the group]

• Genesis sending this image whenever one or more messages are deleted:

• Kunsel regularly sends the weekly gossip rundown and his messages look like this:

☕⭐ TEA OF THE WEEK☕⭐

- FRIENDSHIP: Rufus Shinra and Lazard Deusericus seen whispering outside the president's office. Both men were holding a roll of duct tape and a long rope. They dispersed when asked what they were doing.

- MYSTERY: Did Professor Hojo really fall down the main entrance stairs or was he pushed? Sources say Sephiroth was there when it happened and looked pleased when the professor was taken away on a stretcher.

- DRAMA: Genesis is seen in the breakdown having a verbal dispute with a revolving door after the tail of his coat gets caught in it.

- HAIR: Angeal finds his first gray hair, Roche gets his tasteful honey highlights, Sephiroth's hair grows another inch, Throwback images of Rude (of the Turks) resurface where he is seen with hair, and an online discussion on the Red Leather forums over wether or not Genesis's hair is actually brown sparks controversy.

• The following exchange:

Sephiroth: Can you all please type out your names and post them. Someone stole my PHS and changed everyone's contact names.

Genesis: Genesis Rhapsodos.

Sephiroth: Ah. This one was untouched.

Genesis: ????? What am I saved as?

Sephiroth: Wannabe Sephiroth.

Genesis: ALAKSHSJSJSKDHSJ FUCK YOU

Zack: Zack!

Sephiroth: Thank you, Distracted Hedgehog.

Zack: ...........

Angeal: I'm Angeal.

Sephiroth: As of right now. Before this you were "Patron Saint of Hypocrisy."

Angeal: That's.....a little mean.

Cloud: Cloud Strife.

Sephiroth: Hahaha. This one was very clever.

Cloud: What is it?

Cloud: Well??

Cloud: ........

Cloud: It's Chocobo isn't it?

Sephiroth: My apologies.

• Zack has a habit of procrastinating by sending voice messages that are essentially podcasts. In one of them, you can hear him trip over a wet floor sign, fall, and continue talking about his favorite hair gel brand like nothing happened.

[freakymcnastys]

“possibly in michigan” a creepp book - headcannons

general headcannons:

slenderman is british.

despite what people might think the mansion is way bigger on the inside

it has its own theater, bar, hell even a convenience store, no one actually knows how the store gets stocked

ben is too scared to go down there bc of that

the slender brothers come over every thanksgiving and christmas but offender is limited to the living room and dining room…

sally FORCES jeff to dress up for tea parties

jeff cuts his own hair but is surprisingly good at it

thinking about how smile dog is basically jeffs therapy dog :(((

jack has def tried to eat jeffs kidneys but give up cuz jeff woke up 💔💔

toby is an AVID game theory/matpat stan like he loves watching everything matpat is in so when he announced his retirement….lets say it was ROUGH.

slender puts all of sally’s drawings on the fridge and when they isn’t enough room he would rather buy another fridge then get rid of them

masky is like the stressed out older sibling 🤷‍♀️

ben has drank paint.

has a snapchat gc where they send each other snaps

whenever slender and jeff (or anyone for that matter) talk/argue slender has to bend at a 90 degree angle 😭😭

devon’s headcannons:

definitely butt dials people and scares the shit outta them 💀

going along with that devon totally prank calls people with ben and is like “is ur refrigerator running” 😭

her and jack watch reality tv shows (love and hiphop, dr phil, kardashins, etc)

devon’s fav movie is donnie darko…😁

she always sends jack funny tiktoks while he sends her reels

her chainsaws name is jellybean !

sometimes when she goes out with the proxys she brings fake slender pages (saying stuff like “bitchless” and the entire bee movie script) and hangs them up (but slender always finds them and yells at her)

her fav slenderbrother is probably trenderman

PERSONALLY i think that like the demon and jack are two different ppl so like whenever ‘the beast’ gets out it’s not rlly jack? yk?

so one time ‘the beast’ was fed up with jack actually letting himself feel feelings for devon that he brought devon to the tree where she got hung, to kill her 😁 but dw he failed but jack felt bad after ☹️👎

has told hoodie to ‘turn that frown upside down’….

goes up to masky and gets up real close and whispers… “i know what you are..” and just walks away..

maxine’s headcannons:

isn't quite used to newer slang so she still talks how people in the 1920s did and nobody really understands her that well...

she hates her cellphone and WILL NOT use it unless it's direly needed.

she definitely has a record collection but it's all jazzy and "old-timey" music and she does not let anyone else near her records or her record player

she would teach ben how to ballroom dance and then force him to have dancing sessions with her because her favorite thing to do when she was human was to dance at parties

slenderman FOR SURE banned smoking in the house but maxine is allowed to break that rule so she waltzes around the house with her huge cigarette holder bullying jeff cause he definitely wants to smoke.

she generally dislikes getting help with wounds and stuff because of all the malpractice that was preformed on her when she was human

the phantom of the opera (1925) is her absolute favorite movie and one day slender comes back from the store with the 2004 version and she literally falls in love with him right at that moment

she's like your grandma that 1. doesn't know how to work her phone (or tv or anything) and 2. says things that she thinks mean one thing and they actually don't... like for example....maxine: im sending lols jack: maxine someone died...why are you laughing out loud... maxine: oh i thought that meant lots of love :( jack: oh my fucking god bro

the effects of her lobotomy pop up from time to time when she's doing stuff so sometimes she loses the ability to focus and kind of "dumbs down" because people who are lobotomized often lose their higher levels of intellectuals and then she loses the ability to emotionally respond so slender has to help her out and keep an eye on her cause she might do something dumb. :(( then once she comes back she feels so bad that slender had to basically babysit her and he feels worse cause how could anyone do his love like that

IDK HOW TO EXPLAIN THIS BUT- maxine and slenderman compliment eachother so well. he's a gentleman and she's a ladylike woman and they just...fit perfectly together

her favorite modern (ish) movie is the shining cause it reminds her of the good old days and she would be like "ah yes i remember when people would kill at parties" and everyone else is like "what"

her 1920s brain loves coloring books cause she's probably never been stimulated via colors so she has a bunch of coloring books and people come over and are like "slender i didn't know you found a child" and he's all like "oh no that's just maxine"

i think sometimes she forgets she doesn't live alone and she will walk out of her room in her underwear and is like "oh great heavens my bad gs"

- love always, kat + devina <3

[wolf-tail]

I can't even be mad at Disney adults, because like, I get it.

I grew up with these characters, too. I grew up with these movies, this art, that magic. That little buzz in your chest you get when you see that castle in the intro of a movie, when you hear that instrumental rendition of "Wish Upon A Star", and know you're about to step out of the ordinary world and into a fairytale.

Disney parks market themselves as some far away paradise, and for the most part, they are. They're wonderful, fun, beautiful places with every aspect designed to make guests happy. You're willing to put up with long lines and obscene prices because they really are that fucking good. But the sad part is, when your family can't afford it, like my family couldn't the majority of my life, that magic becomes painful, an ache under your chest you can't describe.

It's that feeling you get when you see your grandma bought the orange juice with Donald Duck on the cover, and even though that orange juice is nasty and tastes like watered down Sunny D, you were still happy.

It's that feeling you get when your car drives past a billboard for Disney On Ice, and it burns because you know your parents won't take you.

It's that feeling you get when you go to the Disney store at the malll just to look around and wave your hand in front of the princess mirror and watch it change color. If you're lucky, like on your birthday or something, your parents get you a dress, or those little plastic dress up heels, And you strut around the house like you own the place.

It's that burning, white hot jealousy when you see your classmates vacation photos with round ear headbands in them, and that castle looks so real you could reach out and touch it, or when you see the magnets on your aunt's fridge, of mouse shaped pretzels and ice cream, and that ferris wheel with his face on it, and it's all you can do not to break down crying.

It's that feeling when you enter your 6th grade MCU phase, and you know there's a place on this Earth where you can give Loki the hug he clearly so desperately needs, but you can't fucking go.

And when your family finally gets to go, and you see the Magic Kingdom that's been waiting for you this whole time, it's bittersweet, because you've grown old enough to know that the House of Mouse is a pit of greed and evil, and that fresh faced innocent little kid is gone, leaving only a jaded teenager in her place, who's already been betrayed by Rowling, and you know that if things were easier for your family, the little girl you used to be would have loved this place a lot more. You still love it and have fun, but you know it could've been better.

The Magic Kingdom is choked with impatient crowds and underpaid employees, and the hands that built it are putting money in genocidal pockets.

I hold no hate or ire in my heart for people who love these parks, and the characters and stories that call it home, but I beg you. Don't give Robert Iger your money, at least not now, not while he's using it to pay people to kill those innocent children who would have loved the parks you do.

[wardenparker]

The Complete Idiot’s Guide to Dating Your Ex - ch 3

Marcus Pike x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

When Marcus unexpectedly runs into his ex-wife he is plunged into a world of complications where rekindled attraction and deep-seated insecurities reign. Unfortunately for him, it is also a world where his ex-wife is not the only ‘ex’ around, as a new case crosses his desk that will require all hands on deck. ✨💖Inspired by and based upon absurdthirst’s Tequila💖✨

Rating: E for Explicit! Word Count: 9.2k Warnings: **Blanket warnings for this series include: divorce, break ups, collegiate Greek life, underage drinking, food/alcohol consumption.** Biting, oral sex (f receiving), protected sex, vaginal sex, dirty talk, rough sex, choking, and a huge helping of fluffy feels. Summary: The end of your night with Marcus goes much differently than either of you expected. Notes: Reader is described as having pubic hair. I make no apologies or excuses for this chapter. It is blissful filth and I love it. Obviously the gif choice in no way represents reader physically, it’s just fun to look at. 💖✨

Ch 1 ~ Ch 2

From underground parking to the elevator to the fifth-floor hallway of your building, you and Marcus are relatively quiet. It’s not until you open your front door that you open your mouth again. “Sorry it’s messy,” you mumble. “I wasn’t expecting to have company.”

Marcus grins. When you two lived together you called yourself ‘artistically messy’. It was mostly Marcus that kept the small apartment clean, his own ‘nice nasty’ tendencies as his grandma would call them, came out to play. “Don’t worry about it, sweetheart. I’m sure you weren’t expecting your ex-husband.”

“Not even in my wildest dreams,” you admit, setting your purse on the table beside the door and locking the door behind the two of you as he steps inside.

He hums, shucking the suit jacket again and folding it over his arm. “Don’t worry, I’m not judging you.”

“Living room straight ahead, kitchen to the right, bathroom and everything else to the left.” The second bedroom is now an office that has a pull out couch in case anyone you know needs a place to crash. But for now, you’re headed for the kitchen. “Coffee with your cheesecake or something else?”

“Coffee is good, unless…” he pauses and shakes his head. Continuing to drink wouldn’t be a good idea. It’s not like you invited him back for a nightcap. This isn’t a date, no matter how much he might wistfully hope. That time was long past.

“Unless lives in the corner of the living room.” The large wood and brass bar cabinet you hauled here from your last place stands guard against the far wall of the living room on the other side of the little bistro table where you eat your breakfast every morning. “Pour whatever you want, but pour two.” It’s just…a kind of comforting you didn’t expect, to have him nearby and so willing to spend his time with you. You could almost trick yourself into believing that not so much had changed between you.

“Okay.” Marcus puts his jacket down and walks over the bar, interested to see that like him, there’s no tequila. He picks up a bottle of red wine and looks at the label with interest. It seems that you have a good bottle here. “How about wine?” He calls towards the kitchen.

“That will work!” You call back, pulling the small cherry cheesecake you made out of the fridge. Plates and forks and a knife come out of their hiding places in your kitchen and you cut two reasonably sized slices. If he wants more, you’ll gladly let him have it. “Want to sit on the couch or at the table?”

"Wherever you want." Marcus wants you to be comfortable first and foremost, but he does want to sit next to you. He finds the corkscrew and opens the bottle before pouring two glasses.

“Couch.” Appearing in the archway between the kitchen and living room a second later with two plates in hand, you nod toward the big plush sofa that faces your tv and smile. He looks good puttering around your apartment. Almost like he’s supposed to be here.

There's something intimate about the way you've kicked off your heels and you are bringing over the plates to the couch in your bare feet. It makes him wish for those days that you wandered around the apartment you shared with nothing but your panties and a tank top on. Or when you would wear his fraternity sweatshirt and socks. He loved that look.

“So it’s cherry chocolate.” Setting the plates down on the coffee table, you slip out of your own suit jacket to sit down beside him. It’s nearly intimate, and twists like guilt in your gut. “I’m going to test out a pumpkin spice version with gingerbread crust for Thanksgiving this year. Leah’s husband loves pumpkin spice.”

His head cocks slightly as he thinks about that. "It would be fantastic." He's always been a sucker for gingerbread cookies. Soft, chewy gingerbread, not the hard shit they tried to pass off as gingerbread.

“Volunteering to be my taste tester?” The two of you sit side by side, mostly facing each other, as you start in on your dessert.

You want him to be around, to come around again. Marcus pauses with his fork halfway to his mouth before he nods. "Yeah, I guess I am." He tells you with a grin. "I'll make sure to put in extra time at the gym."

The gym. You nearly sigh, burying the sound in taking a sip of wine. Marcus at the gym had been a thing to admire when he was younger - an absolute snack, you had called him unapologetically and teasingly bitten his arm or shoulder to make him laugh. But Marcus now is a whole goddamn three course meal. Stop ogling your ex-husband, you moron. “So what does Marcus Pike do on the weekends these days?” You ask, desperate to change the subject.

Marcus chuckles and shakes his head. “Would you be terribly disappointed to learn that I enjoy sleeping in, sometimes going to the farmer’s market they set up over on Dupont Circle? Or walk around the Mall? Find a new restaurant?” He shrugs. “I’m old and boring now.”

“It’s not like I’m partying until 3am and going to work at 6 anymore,” you laugh, shrugging a little. You would never survive Greek life and a waitressing job these days. Never. “The highlights of my weekend are live bands at Parlor on Fridays and trivia brunches with the girls from the office on Sunday. Except…” Flashing him a grin, you chuckle a little. The little things in life mean a lot more now. “I go to the Palisades farmer’s market when I can drag myself out of bed on Saturdays.”

"It sounds like you have a routine." He approves of it, nodding and reaching for his wine glass. "Nothing like being able to spend a few hours in bed just relaxing. Even worth missing the farmer's market."

“I’d rather spend a couple of hours in bed for other reasons.” It’s out of your mouth before you can stop yourself, and the look of absolute mortification on your face a second later in unmistakable. What the hell did you just go and say a thing like that for?!

He nearly chokes on his wine but he manages to swallow it. Bringing the cup down and setting it on the coffee table along with his cheesecake. "I remember." He promises you, eyes darkening when he thinks about the weekends where you wouldn't leave the bed unless it was to finally try to rehydrate or eat something quickly. There's enough alcohol in his system to make him feel like he had that first time he saw you. He inches closer to you, his hand along the back of the sofa and he leans in slightly. "Is that why I'm here?" He asks, eyes dropping down to your lips and then back up to meet your gaze.

Jesus Christ - it wasn’t before but it definitely fucking is now. With your throat running so dry that you can barely swallow and Marcus looking at you like that you feel like you’re about to implode where you sit, just praying to whatever is out there that this doesn’t completely backfire on both of you. “D-do you want it to be?”

Marcus flashes you a grin, small but powerful. "I have to admit something, sweetheart." He bites his lip and leans in a little closer. "I've never wanted something more."

He’s always felt like wildfire under your fingertips, and your hand hovers over his forearm on the back of the couch for just a second while you force yourself to breathe. You’ve both been drinking and it’s been a weird week and you don’t want to do this unless he’s fully aware of what he’s saying. “Marc…” Despite your commitment to not leaping forward and straddling his lap, you have definitely leaned in and you can hear your own breathing quicken. “Are you drunk?”

"No." He knows he's not. He's had two whiskey's and a shot during the nearly two hours at the restaurant and now the couple of sips of wine here. He wonders if you are regretting bringing him to your apartment and are trying to pump the brakes on this. "I could pass a field sobriety test with flying colors." He swallows, wondering if he should back off. You aren't the carefree teenager that he met so many years ago and there is history between you. Still he doesn't move back, just stares at you while he waits for you to say something.

“Neither am I.” When you put your hand down, connecting skin to skin for the first time in thirteen years, it’s more than wildfire. It’s a fucking volcano. And before you can even blink, you’re pressing into his space to crush your lips against his like it’s Welcome Night at Kappa Sigma all over again.

You taste like red wine and cherry cheesecake but it's the best taste in the world. The second you make the move, Marcus is wrapping his arms around you, pulling you closer and opening up so he can dip inside your mouth to taste you better.

The few seconds it takes for him to haul you against him are the same ones you need to plant your knees on either side of his hips, letting the kiss deepen without hesitation. Marcus has a place in your heart that will never fade, you have accepted that, but you never thought with any kind of realism that he would ever forgive you even if you did see him again. This? His enormous hands spread over your sides and your arms around his neck as you brazenly lick into each other’s eager mouths? Is better than you could ever have dreamt.

It's like time has faded away and he's back in his early twenties with you. The way you feel against him is like a magical balm to the hurt and heartaches he's had over the past decade. His tongue slides against yours with a needy moan and he doesn't hesitate to slide a hand down your back and squeeze your ass just like he had a million times before when you were in his lap.

Too much and not enough all at once, you’re sure this is just a dream you’ll wake up from any second. But it’s too good. Your daydreams never let Marcus be this solid underneath you. They don’t quite capture the way his fingertips dig into your when he grips your side or squeezes your ass. Your imagination has never quite been able to replicate the exact tremor of Marcus’s moan as it vibrates through your body. It’s so perfect you could just break right down and cry from relief and joy — and you might later on, but right now your focus is entirely on him.

He's dreamed of kissing your skin a million times during those nights when your memory haunts him. He had tried to banish you from his thoughts but his subconscious betrayed him. Now though, he breaks away from your lips and hungrily trials kisses down your jaw and along your neck, determined to cover every inch of your skin with his lips and then do it all over again.

The best decision you’ve ever made in your life was putting on a button down shirt this morning. Well, second best. Second after bringing Marcus home with you tonight. There’s no one quite like him, in absolutely any way, and when you whimper into the crook of his neck you can feel him grip you just a little bit tighter.

It’s addictive, like being drunk on you. His fingers tearing at the little seed pearl buttons of your blouse, probably ripping some off but he doesn’t care. Frantic to feel more of you, kiss more of you, as if he’s on a time limit for gorging himself on you.

"Marc." There's no use denying it, you'd let him have you right on your goddamn sofa if that's what he wanted tonight. Your hands tearing at his shirt to untuck it from his pants are proof.

He fucking loves when you whine his name like that. Pulling open your shirt to expose the lacy bra, he groans and dips his head, kissing along your sternum and over the swells of your breasts.

Trying to tear him away from you long enough to get his own shirt off is nearly impossible, just because he refuses to detach from your skin for longer than anything but a breath. "Fuck, Marc," you toss away your own shirt when he won't let you undress him, and reach behind you to unclasp your bra and reject that as well. If tonight is the only time you get to be with him like this again, you don't want to hold anything back.

Marcus groans, immediately kisses down the slope of your breast so he can take your nipple in his mouth. Biting down on it before laving it with his tongue and tugging on it with the hot suction of his mouth.

"Fuck," you pant the word again, never taking your eyes off the gorgeous sight of him exploring your skin. It's like a time machine has rolled you both back fifteen years and everything is good again as you drag the fingers of one hand through his hair. "Baby..." It takes a second, but you finally manage to drag his eyes up to yours. "Do you want to move this down the hall?"

The way his cock twitches under you should give you the answer that you want, he’s already hard and aching to sink into you again. “Yes.” He rasps out, fingers digging into your hips as he lifts his hips so you can feel every inch of his interest.

Diving into a deep kiss is grounding for you. The rest of your body may be impatient - hips rolling down to meet Marcus’s and skin that is on fire everywhere he has touched - but your heart knows that this is so much more than sex for you. If it isn’t for him then you’ll have to live with that, but Marcus Pike has never been a Love Em And Leave Em sort of man. You carefully step back, climbing out of his lap but making no moves to retrieve your clothes or tidy up. That can wait. The only thing in the world that matters right now is the way Marcus accepts your outstretched hand as he gets up. He clings to you as much as you do to him, and for a moment you can pretend that this is just the first of many nights to come.

There is no universe in which Marcus wouldn’t go with you. Not when this is what he’s wanted, unknowingly, since he saw you sitting in that office. He’s always wanted you, whether he will admit it or not. Searching for you in the women he’s been with since you. Getting up, he kisses the back of your hand. “Show me the way, sweetheart.”

It could have been frantic - clothing tossed aside along the hallway that leads to your bedroom - but it’s surprisingly calm. With his hand in yours you flip off the few lights on in the apartment and only turn on the lamp beside your bed once you get there. But there’s a sort of muscle memory at play, or at least it feels that way, when you put your arms around him next to your bed and angle your head up to ask for a kiss while you start to undress him.

Marcus groans, the scent that fills your bedroom has change but the underlying scent of you is still there. That musky aroma that he could recognize anywhere that just screams you. His kiss is gentle, giving you yet another chance to change your mind.

Just a minute is all you need. All it takes to have the layers of the day stripped away so that the two of you are just you. Bare again for the three thousandth time, pouring your hearts into a kiss so tender it can only be described in one word that you refuse to say. You’re not going to ruin this by presuming anything. You nudge Marcus backward, his legs hitting the edge of your bed with a dull thump, and you giggle softly at the sound. “I missed you.” Those are the words you go with, whispered in the moonlight after you shut off the lamp you needed only for a second.

He huffs slightly, pulling you close and slotting his mouth against your while he rolls the two of you around in the bed, pinning you under him. It’s probably the most understated thing you can say. “Missed you too.” He answers, starting his exploration of you all over again now that he has you spread out.

Marcus was never weak by any means but something about how broad he is now makes him feel stronger, and if it’s an illusion you don’t care for a second. The feeling of his hands and lips and tongue trailing down your body is far more intoxicating than anything you drank tonight, pulling whimpers and moans from you that fill the cool night air with a kind of unexpected enchantment. Well, if it is, this is a magic spell you’ll happily fall under all over again.

A kiss here, a nip of his teeth there. The closer Marcus gets to his destination the more ravenous he’s becoming. It should be infuriating that you cloud his mind, that you so easily take over his senses and make everyone else pale in comparison. He should be furious because you will hurt him again. Instead he’s determined. Determined to show you why leaving was a mistake. To make you feel him for days when he’s done with you.

If you only say his name for the entire time he’s in your bed it still won’t be enough. The noises that drip from your lips start somewhere in your chest and seem to just bubble over, punctuated only by “Marcus” and “Baby” and plaintive additions of “Oh fuck” as he settles in the valley of your thighs to place kisses everywhere but where you want him most. In his most playful moods he used to make you wait like this, lingering on the edge of madness while you begged for him, but tonight there’s a thoroughness to it that almost feels desperate. Determined. Like he’s afraid you’ll only let him in once so he’s going to make sure it’s goddamn worth it.

You’ve grown out your hair. He remembers when you were adamant that you were waxed or shaved before he would be allowed to put his mouth on you. Huffing when you would pull yourself out of his arms and leave him with a hard cock while you jumped in the shower to scrape the hair from your vagina like it was offensive. He could never convince you he didn’t care but now he presses his nose against the springy curls and inhales your scent, groaning and latching onto your clit to suck it into his mouth.

“I’m not wasting time tonight,” you huff, thinking the same thing he is. Even now you’d rather be clean for a partner, but you refuse to waste even a second tonight. For the split second before he wraps his lips around your swollen nub you almost think he’s going to tease you about it, but his focus is elsewhere. It’s on making you gasp, keening into the moonlight when he moans into your dripping pussy

He sucks on your clit before he flicks his tongue against it, dragging it up and down the sensitive folds of your pussy. Thick fingers spreading your lips wide as he plunges his tongue into your soaked walls.

“Fuck, Marc—” When his tongue curls up he takes your entire back with it, arching you off the bed and making you cry out in that way that only Marcus can. For all the lovers you’ve taken to bed over the years, no one ever learned your body the way he did. No one ever melted into you the same way. No one was ever as good as Marcus - to you or for you.

He loves the way you sound, the way you cry out his name. Curling and flicking his tongue up into your fluttering walls and pushing as deep as he can with his nose pushing against your clit.

The things he can do with that mouth are so good they should be criminal, and your fingers tugging sharply in his hair are pure encouragement. You’re eighteen and inexperienced all over again, chasing that first explosive orgasm together in his tiny bed at the frat house — and it’s amazing. The molten slick that pours from your slit was addictive so many years ago and he’s delighted to find that it’s still the case. Groaning and determined to make you cum before the next minute passes on the nightstand clock.

Blissfully unaware of the challenge he has set for himself, all you know is that the coil of pleasure tightening inside you is firmly wrapped around Marcus’s fingers and if he pulls just right it will snap and scatter you in a thousand pieces right there underneath him. His fingers take over for his tongue, sinking three into you and curling them up while he sucks your clit back into his mouth. Eyes fixed on you while he waits for the ticking time bomb to explode.

The cry that he pulls from you is so loud you couldn’t stop it if you tried - and tonight you are definitely not trying to be silent. Marcus should know exactly how devastating his fingers and mouth are to the few threads left holding you together, and the way that he snaps the connection on each of those threads is enough to have you moaning his name into the cool autumn night. The first orgasm you’ve had in months at someone else’s hands was always going to be fantastic, but Marcus can pull orgasms out of you like it’s as easy as breathing.

He's greedy, wanting more. Needing more. It's been so long since he's felt your pussy clench around his fingers, tasted your cum on his tongue. He's drunk now, drunk on you and he moans into your flesh while he works you through the peak and pushes you towards another with his fingers buried knuckle deep in your walls.

The buildup is enough to have you clawing at the sheets with one hand and scraping Marcus’s scalp with the other, and you know that the old couple above you keeps their windows open at night and is hearing all of this but you just can’t yourself to care when he’s wrenching that second beautiful orgasm out of you almost effortlessly. Only when you soak his fingers for the second time does he pull them out of you. Replacing them with his tongue and lapping up every drop your have to give him, slurping your release down like it's the finest wine.

“Fucking hell, Marc,” you whimper when overstimulation hits, but you’ll be damned if you’re going to make him stop for any reason. You’d rather be overstimulated and full of him than ever be without him again.

When he pulls back, he smacks his lips with a slight smirk on his face. "Missed doing that." He coos, kissing your inner thigh and sucking on your skin harshly. He wants to break the capillaries under your skin and leave a mark for you feel when you get dressed over the next few days.

“You’re so much better at eating pussy than like… anyone.” It makes you laugh, breathless and joyful, and you thump backward on your own pillow with a grin.

"You broke me in." He reminds you. It wasn't that he hadn't had girlfriends before you, he hadn't been a virgin. But you had been his wife, and he had taken making sure you were completely satisfied very seriously. "My skills were tailored to your pussy." He winks and kisses up your hip, dipping his tongue into your belly button before he shuffles to the side and looks down at you fondly.

“Just like my blow job skills are tailored to you.” It’s beyond your restraint not to kiss him, pulling him in and urging him to crowd you into the mattress.

"God I loved your blow jobs." He groans into your mouth playfully. He's not joking but he grins at you as he kiss you again, and shifts to his elbows as your legs fall open for him to slot himself between.

“You can have as many as you want.” It’s a promise, and from now on you’re keeping every single promise you make to him come hell or high water. “But right now I need to feel you, baby.”

He groans, the promise of your mouth around his cock is almost perfect but he closes his eyes. Knowing that it might not be anything more than your mouthy, post-orgasmic mouth running. Instead he kisses your forehead and pulls away. "Need a condom." He grunts, knowing that he has been safe but he's also slept with someone else less than a week ago.

“Nightstand.” His arms are longer than yours and he reaches the lone drawer in your nightstand much more easily than you would from the center of your bed. The flash of disappointment in not getting to feel his bare cock is worth it to be safe but you’re going to very nicely ask him to get tested again asap so he can go without. He’s perfect on his own.

He opens the drawer with a pang of slight jealousy. Wondering how many men have opened this same drawer, but he shoves the feeling down. It's not his place to feel possessive over your sex life after he was no longer your husband. Instead of dwelling on it, he grabs a foil packet and kneels between your thighs, ripping it open and concentrating on rolling it down his length.

His concentration gives you a moment to just be. Just absorb what is happening for all the magic that it actually holds. The coincidences and little accidents that led up to having him here - in your bed - so many years after it should have been made impossible. When he finally looks back up at you from the cradle between your legs, you feel so light you could nearly cry. “God you’re even more handsome somehow…” you murmur, leaving a dusting of kisses across his face that ends at his lone dimple. That boyish mark of good looks that he’ll carry forever was always one of your favourite little things.

It's impossible not to preen when your ex-wife compliments you like that. Marcus hums and reaches out to caress your breast, sliding his hand down to push under your back while he takes himself in hand. "You look like you did the day I met you." He tells you, believing every word of it. You are still gorgeously youthful.

It’s impossibly sweet - Marcus level sweet - but you still chuckle just a little and shake your head. “If you say so, baby.” He has improved with age, without a doubt, and for just a second as he leans down over you and you feel the blunt head of his cock at the entrance to your pussy, you let yourself imagine again what growing old with him could be like.

It's sad the way he reacts to you calling him baby. The quiver of his skin, shuddering under your fingertips as he pushes the first inch of him inside your pussy for the first time in nearly twelve years. "Fuck." He pants out, his hand letting go of his hand and bracing his weight beside your body as his hips roll forward as steadily as he can muster.

“Goddamn.” You’re panting, legs hitching up on hips as he slowly buries himself inside you. It’s just sex, you would have told yourself with anyone else. Just sex. Not a fucking spiritual experience. But this is Marcus — and sex with Marcus has always been as close to heaven as anyone in earth could ever hope to get.

"Still so–so dirty in bed." He huffs, groaning when he is buried to the root inside you. Your mouth was always filthy in bed and he loved it.

“‘M out of practice,” you admit, carefully choosing a place to nip and suck on on his shoulder that will be easily covered by his clothes.

"Impossible." Marcus huffs, leaning down and groaning in your ear as he starts to pull his hips back. "Are the men in D.C. blind? They should–should be lining up to feel this–this perfect pussy." He twitches when he slides back into you smoothly and bottoms out again.

“Turns out I’m picky.” Even with him inside you, you feel the heat of embarrassment in your cheeks when you softly press your lips to his. “None of them were as good as my husband.”

He growls, the next thrust nothing but a sharp snap of his hips. Feeling possessive and wanting to completely claim you. Make sure you remember why no one was as good as he was.

“Fuck!” It takes you off guard when he doubles down, but you end up with your eyes practically rolling back in your head as you hold onto him for dear life.

His pace is rougher than it was when you were together. More confident and self assured as he continuously snaps his hips forward and fills you again and again. Grunting and hissing through his teeth as he sets a harsh tempo.

Each time the headboard hits the wall you want to add another curse to the list, every filthy thought piling up in your head until they're spilling out of your mouth with reckless abandon. If Marcus misses your filthy mouth then you're going to give it to him, letting out a torrent of curses and praises and encouragements that would make anyone blush.

It's loud, fuck it's loud, and Marcus half expects someone to start beating on the wall. Not that he gives a fuck. He would just fuck you even harder if someone started complaining. Obsessed with the way that you are keening for him, your body bucking every time his hips slam into yours. "Fuuuuuuck baby."

Cumming this time is like an out of body experience. The fully realized home porno that the two of you have become tonight is on par with the some of the neediest, most demanding nights you have ever had together and if your voice is hoarse tomorrow then it is a badge of honour that you will wear proudly. Marcus is battering your g-spot like it's a punching bag at the gym and your cries turn silent as you clench down on him and grip his shoulders tightly in the throes of that third orgasm.

He hisses, sliding his hand around your throat and presses his thumb around your windpipe, watching your eyes widen while he grabs your leg with his other hand and pushes it back. Changing the angle and groaning when you manage to get even wetter.

This is new, is the first thought in your head, but at the same time it's so gloriously dirty that when you whimper it's pure pleasure. You're split open with his cock spearing into you at a pace that has him sweating, and all you can really do is continue giving him extremely vocal approval as he keeps you pinned to the mattress with your tits bouncing on every thrust.

His hand looks good against your neck, adjusting the pressure of his thumb with the thrust of his cock. Making sure that he is shredding up into you as hard as he can push his hips. "Fuck baby, you're–you're so good."

Your responding groan is entirely meant to tell him that he is the good one, and you whimper when his hips stutter and his rhythm starts to falter. Marcus is a goddamn work of art when he cums, and you can't wait to see that masterpiece in real life again.

His mouth drops open and he lets out a low groan of your name. Pushing deep one last, desperate thrust, Marcus falls over the edge. Panting as his cock throbs, filling the condom as he hovers over you, trembling in pleasure.

Your arms wrap around him without hesitation, offering him the place cradled against your chest to lay himself down and find his breath back. "Choking, huh?" You giggle, grinning at him unrepentantly.

"You didn't like it?" He asks, twisting his head and looking up at you with a skeptical look. "It felt like you liked it from the way that you clamped down on my cock."

"No, I loved it." It's not like you're going to deny it. That would be both useless and a little dumb at this point. "I just didn't expect it. You've picked up a few new tricks."

He hums, reaching down and gripping the base of the condom so he can pull out of you. "Twelve years will do that." He shuffles off the bed and moves towards the bathroom so he can dispose of the condom and grab you a washrag.

He's right, of course, but it stings. It's a blessing that he's walked off for a second and doesn't see the unmistakable way your face falls. It gives you time to recompose yourself before he comes back. You have no one to blame but yourself, so you can't exactly get upset with him for pointing out the truth.

Even if the comment hadn't meant to highlight how long you had been apart, Marcus still takes a moment in the bathroom. Wishing you weren't so glib about everything. He wonders if this is some kind of wish fulfillment for you. Sleep with the ex for old time's sake. He wets a washcloth and brings it back so he can clean you up. Or let you do it if you want. You had always decided after the fact and so he offers it to you first.

"Would you...?" He always preferred to do it himself. That gentlemanly streak extending even to post-sex clean up. For you it was simply something practical that had to get done, but for Marcus aftercare was something that he always took very seriously. Could you do it yourself in under five seconds? Of course. But Marcus has a way of making things mean more just by being there for them.

"Of course." He is happy that you are letting him do this. Those last few months before you asked for a divorce you would disappear into the bathroom right after sex. It had made him feel like he was doing something wrong, which apparently he had been. You spread your legs wider and he kneels back on the bed and gently slides the cloth over your folds so he can clean you up.

You're both quiet, and the awkwardness seeping into the air between you is nearly making you feel sick by the time he tosses the messy cloth into your laundry basket across the room. Shifting over, you move the blanket down to offer him a place in bed beside you and swallow the fear that he might want to leave. That this might have been one time only and he was done now that he had gotten closure or whatever it was he was seeking in your bed.

He pauses for a moment, wondering if you are genuinely offering for him to climb back in the bed with you or just being nice because you think that you should. He looks from the spot to where you are watching him and he thinks he sees apprehension in your eyes, whether it's for him to stay or for him to go, he doesn't know. But it makes him move toward the bed to slip under the covers beside you.

Despite the fact that he was inside of you less than five minutes ago, you still hesitate before inching closer to him. You can't tell if he actually wants to stay or if he's being nice, and the idea that he might not be there in the morning is so devastating that you have to make yourself stop and breathe so you don't break out into anxious tears. "W–we should talk about it?" It's more of a question than a statement, and you hate yourself a little for not being more confident about all of this. But how can you, when he would be completely within his rights to just walk out on you like you walked out on him?

"If you want." Marcus is hesitant because he doesn't want to hear that this was some sort of itch for you to scratch. That it was just a good time. He opens his arms and invites you to curl into him. Needing the comfort of you close to him before you break his heart again.

"Do you not want to talk?" It makes the fear seize in your heart in a very real way, but you still go to him like a magnet.

"Not if it's going to–" He breaks off what he was going to say and sighs. "We need to." He agrees softly, knowing that it would be cowardly to not talk about it. You were both adults and he knew that he could get hurt when he came home with you tonight.

"I–" Reminding yourself to breathe - to be honest - you exhale slowly and find his eyes in the moonlight. "I don't want this to just be a one time thing. Or a meaningless thing. But if this was just...closure for you, or whatever...I'll respect that." It would break your heart, but you would never force him to be with you. That might actually be worse than having him walk away.

Through lots and lots of therapy over the past year, Marcus has learned that he can’t just jump in. He tries to curb the instinct now, taking a moment to absorb your words and make sure he understands. Relief floods his entire system, happy that you feel that way. “And what exactly is it that you do want?” He asks, making sure that his arm is curled around your shoulders, his fingers stroking your skin softly.

"Not more than will make you happy." The answer is him. You want him back, but if he doesn't want to be with you again you aren't going to make him. After all, twelve years is a long fucking time to be apart and he might want different things in a partner now.

“That’s not an answer.” He hums, aware that you are seemingly walking on eggshells around him right now and he doesn’t like it. Deflection and refusing to be honest is what landed you here where you are.

You sigh softly, squeezing your eyes shut before opening them again to find him studying you carefully. "I am afraid to ask whether or not you would want to keep seeing me," you admit, letting your head hit the pillow again softly. "Because I don't think I deserve a second chance even though I want one."

It’s what he needs to hear, turning on his side and reaching up to cup your cheek and gently swipe his thumb over your cheek bone. “Do you think I would have gone home with you if I didn’t want to see you again?” He asks softly, wanting to make sure you know that he’s not that type of man.

"I hoped not." That, at least, you can admit freely. The warmth of his calloused hand on your face makes you shiver slightly, but not at all in a bad way. It's more like...disbelief. "But I would have deserved it if you decided to walk out on me after we were finished."

“I didn’t want the divorce.” He admits, although he’s sure you know that. He hadn’t fought you on it, but he also hadn’t been happy about it. “I wanted to spend my life with you.”

You nod, eyes falling shut again momentarily as you swallow down years and years of guilt. You know he didn't want the divorce, but when he didn't fight you, you tricked yourself into believing that you were freeing him to find a better life. That he must have known a better life was possible, since he didn't protest. "I'm so, so sorry." The words nearly break you, tears brimming in your eyes and the tightening in your chest making it hard to take a breath for longer than you're proud of. "It was my fault. All of it."

“Stop.” Marcus chides you softly, shaking his head and urging your chin up slightly where it’s fallen. “Baby– look at me.”

The thing that mostly gets you to comply is hearing him call you baby, feeling like you don't deserve even that small amount of affection. But you wipe the tears from under your eyes fiercely, forcing yourself to look up.

He sighs softly, hating the tears that are in your eyes. “I loved you enough to let you go.” He murmurs quietly, his thumb moving down and he rubs it over your lips. “You told me that your future wasn’t yours with me, so I knew that you had to do what you needed to alone. That if I tried to force you to stay, you would hate me for it. So I said yes when you asked for a divorce.” The words had been like a knife to his heart, but he had realized what they meant later on.

"I was an idiot." When he opens his mouth to protest you shake your head, insisting that he let you elaborate. "I should have talked to you. Had the tough conversations instead of thinking that compromise didn't exist. So it was my fault. It just took a hell of a lot of therapy to realize where I went wrong."

“And I should have known that maybe you weren’t ready to plan out every detail of our lives.” He chuckles. “Lots of therapy for me too.” He bites his lip. “I would have gone with you.” He confesses. “If you had told me what you needed, what you wanted, I would have gone with you.”

"I didn't really know, though." It's your own confession. That even if he had given you the reins to choose what direction your future was going to go in, you wouldn't have known where to lead him. "I changed my focus at George Washington twice before settling on my masters and then the Sorbonne happened because one of my professors was taking her sabbatical in France and knew of a spot in the program there. It was a whirlwind. And you..." Your eyes search his face, seeing the softness there that makes your heart ache. "The FBI, baby? If you had come to France with me you never would have found such an amazing career."

“So I would have learned to speak French instead of using handcuffs.” It’s all reflective now, the past is just that– the past. But he needs you to know that he would have given everything up for you.

"I'm sorry." It's quieter this time, more ashamed, but you know you can't change what you did. "If I could take it back, I would."

“I don’t want you to be sorry.” Marcus rushes out, leaning in and pressing his forehead against yours. “Please don’t beat yourself up. I just–I’ve realized something that I knew but I couldn’t acknowledge until I saw you again.”

"You have?" If he can hear your heartbeat speed up, he doesn't show it. But you can't possibly believe that the blood pounding in your ears isn't loud enough for him to hear.

“Yeah.” He flashes you a soft smile, opening his eyes and pulling back so he can look at you fully. “I never stopped loving you, sweetheart.” He confesses. “You’re it for me.”

For a second you swear your heart has stopped beating all together, until it feels like all the blood that was just pounding in your ears has rushed to your face to fill your cheeks and all the air leaves your lungs all at once in a sound like a strangled, disbelieving gasp. The tears are next - hot, grateful, ecstatic, and still disbelieving. But in the last milliseconds of that second where you seem to react to everything all at once, you’re pressing into his space to kiss him over and over and over again. Ten thousand tiny little kisses that bleed into one long one as you cling to him and desperately try to stop shaking in his arms because you can’t believe you could ever be so lucky as to have another chance with him. “I love you.” The words have been stuck in your throat for god only knows how long but they tumble out now, against his lips. “I love you so much, Marcus. I swear I’ll make it all right this time if you let me.”

Marcus sighs in relief, in disbelief and hope, his arms becoming steel bands around you as he happily takes the kisses and refuses to let your mouth pull back more than a fraction of an inch. You love him. That cycles through his mind on a loop and he wonders how the hell it took twelve years to get back to this moment.

It takes longer than you’re proud of to recompose yourself, but when you do it’s like the heavy weight that you’ve been carrying on your shoulders for years is finally starting to dissipate. “I know it’s not as easy as a magical fix,” you tell him, words still muffled by his skin as he keeps you close. “But we’re not kids anymore. I think if we try, we can do it.”

"I think we should take it slow." Marcus admits, rolling his eyes at himself since within forty-eight hours of seeing you again, he's back in bed with you. "Slow for us, I guess." He huffs, conceding that it's better than the first time you met. You had slept together that very first night and that had just been it. There hadn't been anyone else for him until well after you had driven off into the sunset, your wedding band laying on the kitchen counter with your house key.

“What’s that?” You joke, unable to resist even though you’re already nodding in agreement. “I’m not saying let’s go get remarried tomorrow. Or even at all, if you don’t want to. I just…” Sighing in his arms again feels like a gift. “Slow is good. We just have to stick to it.”

"You still have my last name." He's slightly smug about that. Every time he's almost typed your name into the FBI database, it's been with your maiden name. He had incorrectly assumed that you would go back to it after you got settled. You had even petitioned in the divorce to change your name.

“Yeah…” It’s not like you can deny it. It’s a fact, right there on paper. “I decided that even though I wasn’t running around broadcasting being divorced, I wasn’t going to pretend like it didn’t happen.”

"I like that." He admits, nose brushing against your cheek as he leaves another kiss against your skin. "Always liked you having my last name." He had been so fucking proud when you had changed your school ID, your license and social security number to Pike. It might be slightly caveman-ish, but he was human after all.

"So I guess..." You crack a grin, fingers brushing along his jaw and feeling light for the first time in ages. "Do you want to go out on a real date tomorrow? Something a little more intentional than us randomly ending up in the same bar for dinner?"

“I think we should.” Marcus agrees with a grin of his own. “We’ve changed a lot over the past decade and I–I want to make sure that it’s not nostalgia for either of us.”

"That's fair." Leaning forward lets you leave a kiss on his nose and you grin. "Maybe we can do something that we've never done before?"

“Hmmmm do you have something in mind?” The idea of even leaving this bed isn’t one that Marcus wants but he knows he can’t just stay in bed with you.

"I'm sure we can come up with something." The only thought in your mind right now is him and it's clouding everything else, but you would be lying if you said that you minded too much. The fact that he's here with you and wants to stay is still overwhelming in the best way.

Marcus shoots you a grin and then chuckles. “Jesus, I cannot believe that we are here right now.” He sighs, leaning back and closing his eyes as his hand drifts up and down your back.

"It's a little surreal, right?" Lying back in his arms is fully surreal, not just a little, but you wouldn't trade it for the world. "I'm still waiting for somebody to come bang on the door and yell at us for fucking too loud."

He snorts, his chest jostling you slightly. “Let them.” He grins and slides his hand down to your ass. “I’ll just make sure you’re louder the next time.”

"I fully believe you will." It wouldn't be the first time he'd taken a comment as a challenge, although he'd been nineteen then and much more competitive.

Marcus sighs softly, his hand sliding back up and he pulls you closer, smiling at you. “Hi.” He hums goofily.

"Hi," you hum right back, placing kisses on his nose and lips as you grin at him.

“Have to admit, this is not where I saw my Friday night going.” Marcus jokes. “I imagined drowning myself in too many whiskeys and wallowing in the fact that you still look so fucking good.”

"I felt like I was going to die when you walked into my office." Now, with him beside you and things looking so much brighter than they did even a few hours ago, you can laugh about it. "Of all the different ways I ever dreamt of seeing you again, dating one of my team members was not on the list."

“God.” His own awkward laugh answers yours and he swipes his free hand down his face. “All I could think about was the fact that I had seen both of you naked. And honestly? Wonder how the hell she didn’t make the connection in last names before. It’s not like Pike is common.”

"It's not that uncommon, though." You shrug slightly but still laugh. "Maybe her hometown has four different Pike families? Who knows."

“And was it just me, or did you want to melt like the Wicked Witch when she asked if we were siblings?” Marcus asks, rolling his eyes in pure embarrassment.

"I'm going to want to melt on Sunday when I tell her we're seeing each other again." It might end up being an incredibly uncomfortable conversation, but you would rather have it outside of work, and Sunday brunch trivia is the next time you'll see Silvia.

“You can wait if you want.” Marcus offers, not wanting to put you into an awkward position with your friend and employee. “If it makes it easier for you.”

"I feel like it could get complicated if I wait," you admit. "It would seem like we're hiding it from her, and I don't–I don't want to hide this at all. I'm proud that you would even consider giving me a second chance."

“Why wouldn’t I?” He asks you softly, “I wanted to be with you for the rest of my life since I was nineteen.”

Not wanting to cry again - even happy tears - you tuck yourself in even closer to his side and exhale deeply. "I knew we said slow, but I want you to know that that's where my mind is, Marc. The rest of our lives. Just like we always said."

He gets emotional himself, closing his eyes for a moment so he can compose himself and not bawl like a baby. Although his hold on you turns ironclad for a moment before he relaxes it. “I-I like the sound of that.” He manages after he’s opened his eyes again.

"There's plenty to talk about. Things to work through. But..." You blow out a sigh and manage an honest smile in the light of the moon. "But I have literally dreamed of having a chance to make things right with you more times than I can count."

“We don’t have to work out all the details tonight.” He kisses your forehead and smiles at the irony. He would have wanted to plan everything out years ago. “I just want to be with you.”

"We should try to get some sleep." Now that things are a little more secure, the fear of waking up and finding him gone has completely left your mind. Replaced by wanting to spend the weekend together and start to rekindle the relationship that you've been missing for over a decade.

“We should, but–” He shuffles slightly and gently moves out from under you. “I’m going to go get us some water.” He tells you, not wanting you to think he’s changing his mind. “That way we don’t have to worry about getting it in the middle of the night.”

"There's glasses in the cabinet next to the refrigerator." Your kitchen cabinets might be the only thing in the entire apartment that stay consistently organized, and the idea of Marcus puttering around your space freely makes you smile broadly all over again.

Marcus smirks and there is a slight leer to his gaze as he rakes it over your body. “Go pee, sweetheart. I know you have to.” He orders before he walks out of the room, still naked and comfortable with it.

Five minutes later you're both crawling back in bed, glasses of water sitting ready on your nightstand after both taking a few painkillers to preempt any small hangover you might have in the morning. After all, you did have a bit to drink even if neither of you was actually drunk. You settle into his side again and sigh as you both wrap your arms around each other, ready to drift off to sleep. It's more than comfortable. It's like coming home.

“I love you.” He murmurs into your hair, kissing your head and closing his eyes. If this is a dream, a drunken fantasy, then he doesn’t want to wake up.

"I love you, too." It's gentle, and almost ethereal, and all you can do is trust that it's real, because you're drifting off quickly in the comfort of his arms.

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[shyxcherry]

Drinking Games 2 | San

summary: when you need an easy way to make money during your last semester of college, your friend gets you a job at a local bar. you wish that didn’t include the cute singer who won’t leave you alone, but when do things ever go your way.

pairing: Singer!San x Bartender!Reader

genre/warning: fluff, angst, smut, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it)

Word count: 8.4k

note: finally a second part. i hope you enjoy!

"Order for table three."

You put the coffee pot back on its stand as you turn to look at Reggie. He placed the two plates on the window seal. He also placed a small basket of fries. You looked up at him.

"I told you I'm going to fatten you up. You need to get some meat on those bones.

You let out a small laugh as you grab the two plates. "Thank you."

"Anytime."

You bring over the plates to table three. You place their plates down before refilling their drinks. After making sure all of your tables didn't need anything, you grabbed the fries and told the other woman working with you, Jisoo, that you were taking a break before she leaves for the night.

You make your way to the small employee room. There were a few lockers for people to put their things in. There was also a fridge and microwave. You sat back in your chair as you flipped through the TV channels. You settle for some movie that you've seen a million times. You start to eat your food as you watch the movie.

It has been two weeks since you had been fired from Red's Bar. You had spent a week looking for a job, but no one wanted to hire you with your schedule. That was until you walked into this place.

Loves Diner.

You had spent the whole day begging someone to give you a job with no success. With swollen eyes from your breakdown in your car, you entered this place for some food. You tucked yourself away in a far corner so no one could see your frustration. You scrolled through your phone for any possible jobs when someone sat down in front of you.

"Here you go my dear."

You look up to see an older woman sitting in front of you. She looked like she had stepped out of a 1920's movie. Her long hair had faded to white as it was pulled up in a bun. Her dress was red and black as it flared out. She also had bright red lipstick on.

You looked down to see that she had placed a vanilla milkshake in front of you. "I'm sorry, but I didn't order this."

Her wrinkles grew as she smiled at you. "I know. Whenever my grandkids are sad, these milkshakes always cheer them up. It's the grandma in me."

You look at her for a moment before sliding the milkshake towards you. You take a sip of the milkshake before looking up at her. "I see why. This is a pretty good milkshake."

"It's my mother's recipe." She told you. "Now, why don't you tell me what's bothering you."

You didn't want to talk about it, but the way she looked at you made you spill everything. From college, to San, and even getting fired from your last job. You spent a half hour giving her your life story, and not once did she interrupt you. She listened intently. She even wiped away a couple of your tears as they fell. Once you were done, you apologized for throwing all of that at her. Even if it felt good to get it out.

"You don't have to apologize, my dear." She told you. "I'm going to tell you a story. You see that man over there?"

You turned to where she was pointing. You saw an older man talking to some of the customers. He was matching the woman who was sitting in front of you, Leslie. His red shirt was tucked into his black pants. He also had a pair of black suspenders.

"Is that your husband?" You asked.

"It is." She answered. "We have been married for 43 years."

"Wow."

"We had met in a restaurant quite similar to this one. I was a worker, and he had come in with all of his friends. Back then, we had worn roller blades to get around." She laughed at the memory. "He had walked out in front of me. I tried to stop, but almost fell backwards on my bottom. He rushed forwards and caught me. The rest is history."

"So, you recreated this restaurant because of that?" You asked.

"Not quite." She answered. "It's very similar to your story. Leonard's friends had dared him to ask me on a date. When I had found out, I wasn't very happy."

"I know the feeling."

"He tried to apologize in every way imaginable. Flowers, candy, you name it. I had finally agreed to talk to him, and he brought me here. It was abandoned previously, but he had bought it and turned it into the place like where we had first met."

"Did you forgive him after that?"

"I did." She answered. "I could tell how sorry he was. I also knew how much he loved me. Just like San loves you."

You look down at your shake. "I know he does, and that's the hardest part."

"It will all work out my dear." She rubbed at your hands. "Wait for him to do some grand gesture. One that proves he's really sorry and doesn't include fighting anyone."

You laugh at the end of her statement. "Do you really think we'll work this out?"

"I do." She answered. "You just need time to heal. And until then, you have a job here."

"Really?" You asked her. She nodded her head at you.

"I will work with your schedule. You're going to get through this."

"Thank you so much."

You had work almost every weeknight since then. She paid you more than Red did which you greatly appreciate. She also worked with your schedule better than anyone has. If she knows you have a test coming up, she won't allow you to work that previous night, so you can study.

You could never find a way to repay her for all she has done for you. Even though you try, she won't allow it. She's just a kind woman who wants to help, and you couldn't be anymore grateful for that.

The next few shifts at work you were on your own. You didn't have a problem with it. It was mostly quite on weeknights. Except for Friday. You'll get a lot of teenagers, but it's nothing you can't handle.

Reggie had cleaned up the kitchen and left for the night. Normally he waits, but his kid had a recital. You weren't going to let him miss that. You had your phone blaring music as you wiped down the counters. You were singing along until you heard someone come in the front doors. You cursed as you forgot to lock the doors.

"I'm sorry, but we're closed for the night."

"Damn, I was really hoping for a milkshake."

You turn to look as you recognized the voice. There dressed in all black was a now blonde Wooyoung. He stood at the door with his hands tucked in his pockets. When your eyes met his, he smiled nervously at you. This was the first time the two of you would have a proper conversation without San.

"What do you want?"

"Can we talk?" He asked.

You weren't really close to any of San's band members. You had heard the most about Wooyoung though as him and San were close. You thought he was nice from the few times you met, but that changed after you watched that video. He was the one who started the who bet.

"Why?" You asked. "So, you can rub it in my face that you won?"

Wooyoung let out a sigh. "No. Things got out of hand, I'll admit. But I feel like I needed to tell you what happened since you won't listen to San."

"Can you blame me?"

"No." Wooyoung answered. "But unlike him I not going to take no for an answer. I'm not leaving until we talk."

You raise your eyebrows at him. You thought about saying no, but you remember San saying whenever Wooyoung has his mind set on something, he's not going to stop until he gets it.

“Whatever.” Wooyoung walked over to the spot in front of you before taking a seat at the counter. You leaned back on the counter. “How did you even know I work here?”

“I have my resources.” Wooyoung answered. You stared at him before squinting.

“Hongjoong?”

“Hongjoong.”

You let out a small laugh. “That’s the last time I tell him anything.”

“I mean. You did tell the one who was the most against you two turned into the biggest supporter of you and San.” Wooyoung smiled.

You shrug your shoulders. “Point taken.”

“San’s really struggling over your breakup.” Wooyoung admitted. “We’re having to drag him out of bed to perform. He’s not interacting with the crowd like he used to. He’s also forgetting lyrics to the songs he wrote. It’s getting bad.”

You look down as you listen to him. “I understand. My grades are starting to slip because I can’t focus anymore. Between that and my tuition, I don’t think I’m going to graduate on time.”

“I’m sorry (Y/N).” Wooyoung apologized. You could tell that he meant it, but it still hurt. “I would have never made it into a bet if I knew. As much as I love San, I didn’t think he was capable of a love like yours.”

“So why did you?” You ask.

“I don’t know. We always make stupid bets. I thought this one was no different.” Wooyoung answered.

“You didn’t think it would hurt me or your best friend?”

Wooyoung shook his head. “Like I said, I didn’t think he was going to get attached to you. When I did see it though, I realized what mistake we had made.”

“Was that before or after you had gotten your money?”

“San broke off the bet after your first date.” Wooyoung answered. “I never got any money.”

Your eyes widened at Wooyoung’s confession. San hadn’t told you this. Though he never got the chance to as you never let him speak. You now realize that may have been a mistake. At least now you had a chance to know everything.

“What happened Wooyoung?”

“After your date, San immediately made his way to mine and Mingi’s apartment. He told us that he wasn’t going through with the bet anymore. He said he would pay us to make us shut up, but he didn’t want to be a part of it anymore.” Wooyoung started to explain. “Of course, Mingi and I threw a fit. We thought it was because he knew he was going to lose, but that wasn’t the case at all.”

“What was it?” 

“He was already starting to fall in love with you.” Wooyoung answered. “We listened to him go on about you for a while. About how you were different than anyone he’s ever met. He said if he could listen to one sound for the rest of his life, it would be your voice. After that, I felt like we had no choice but to agree. I couldn’t stand to see him get hurt.”

“So, the rest of our time spent together wasn’t under the bet?” You asked.

“Correct.”

You let out a sigh of relief. In a sense, it made you feel better. You were still hurt that the only reason he pursued you was because of that bet, but it wasn’t the reason why he stayed with you so long. 3 months may haven’t seemed that long, but for you it was. Your and San’s relationship was something you never thought could happen to you. It was like the sappy stuff you read about that normally grossed you out. It was entirely different when it’s you and him. You feel some of the anger fade away. Maybe you could find yourself to forgive San, but you still had some doubts.

“I just wished he would’ve said something, you know?” You tell him.

“Would you still have been mad?” Wooyoung responded.

“Probably.” You answered. “But I would have rather him tell me then to find out from a video. Why do you guys record it anyway?”

“We didn’t.”

You raised your eyebrows. “Then who did?”

“That’s what San was trying to figure it out.” Wooyoung answered. “He ended up bribing the security guy to let him watch the cameras. The only ones who entered the locker room was you, Hongjoong, and Red.”

“Hongjoong wouldn’t do something like that.” You spoke up. Wooyoung nodded.

“Exactly, so we knew it had to have been Red. I had never seen San that mad, and we have been friends since we were kids.”

You were scared to find out the answer to your question. “What did he do?”

“He didn’t fight him which really shocked me.” You let out a sigh of relief. You didn’t like the idea of him fighting. “San questioned him. At first, he refused that it was him. That was until San threatened to quit.”

“Why did he do it?”

“I know Chae told you about the girl they hired before you.”

“The one that became obsessed with San?” You asked.

Wooyoung nodded. “That girl was Red’s niece.”

“You’re lying.” 

“I swear.” Wooyoung told you. “She went to Red upset at what San did. He wasn’t happy, but he didn’t want to lose us. Because we’re great and all.”

“So, he waited this long to have his revenge on hurting his niece?”

“Well, he was the one who slashed San’s tires. He thought that was make him feel better, but it didn’t. He said the more he saw San with these other women, the angrier he got. He recorded every session to find something to hurt San with.”

“He waited until we got close before hurting San.” You concluded. Wooyoung nodded at you signaling you were correct. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard of something so messed up. Are you still working there?”

“Yes, but only for one reason. San’s trying to buy out Red for the bar.”

“Are you serious?” You asked. He had never told you that.

“We had played in that bar since we had formed Purple Rose. That was our first gig. The place is special to us, and none of us want to see it trashed by Red.” Wooyoung answered.

“I hope you get it.” 

“I hope your there to see it.” Wooyoung told you.

“I’m not as upset as I was before this conversation.” You could see Wooyoung start to get hopeful. “I still need some time to heal.”

Wooyoung was upset before he realized what you said. “That’s not a no.”

“It’s not.” You had a hint of a smile as Wooyoung jumped out of his chair in excitement. 

“I will take this meeting as a success. I’m going to leave before I say anything to make you change your mind.”

You laugh at Wooyoung’s statement. “Thank you for talking to me.”

“Be sure to tell San that I’m the reason you got back together.” Wooyoung said as he walked out of the door. You walked behind him to lock the door and turn out the lights.

“Not gonna happen.” 

You heave the giant metal door open before you slipped inside. You were inside the place you hated the most. The financial building of your college. This is where you have to come to pay your tuition. You pay some out of every paycheck, but it seems like the numbers never go down. Damn interest. You take a seat as everyone was busy assisting someone else. You scroll on your phone as you wait for an empty window.

It's been almost two weeks since yours and Wooyoung’s conversation. The longer you waited to talk to San, the harder it got. You wanted to talk to him. You really did, but you just had too many things on your plate. You just hoped that San would wait for you. You couldn’t blame him if he didn’t though. You only had one month left of college. Finals were in 3 weeks. You hoped you could hold up until then without falling apart. You are one surprise away from a breakdown.

“I can help whoever’s next.”

You look up to see an empty window. You put your phone in your pocket as you walk up to the counter. “I’d like to make a payment.”

“Student ID, please.”

You place your bag on the counter and pull out your wallet. You hand her your ID. As she looks you up, you pull out the small paper you keep in your wallet. It had all of your deductions and how much you owed. If you had done the math right, you finish paying off your tuition with a week to spare. The only reason is Chae told you not to worry about the rent for this month. You tried to argue with her, but she wouldn’t listen. She said you could make it up by taking her on a ‘date’ to a fancy restaurant she had been dying to go to after you graduate.

“(Y/N), correct?”

“Yes ma’am.”

She looked at the computer in confusion before looking up at you. “I don’t see any balance on here. Did you pay it off and not realize it?”

“There’s no way. I still had $1,800 left on it.” You answer in confusion. Did she pull up the wrong student?

“When was the last time you paid on it?” She asked.

“Two weeks ago on the 25th.”

You watched anxiously as she typed away on her computer. “It says that the last payment was made two days ago.”

"That's impossible." You muttered.

No one you knew had access to your account. You went over your account with the woman once again just to make sure she had yours pulled up. You should be happy about this. You could graduate now that your tuition was paid off. It just made you feel anxious for some reason. All of these questions were going through your head. What if someone deposited their money into your account by accident? Unless someone was doing this from the good of their heart, you couldn't think of anyone who would pay for it.

"Is there any way I could find out who paid for it?" You asked.

"I don't know." She answered. "I've never had this happen before."

Despite your nerves, you laughed at her response. You watched as she got up and walked away from you. After a minute, a different woman walked over to you.

"Good afternoon." She greeted. "My name is Sooyoung. I was the one that helped the young gentleman with the payment. I remember because we don't have this happen very often."

"Gentleman" You asked.

"Yes. He said that you were an angel and had helped him through a lot over the past few months. He was a real cutie."

Your heart felt like it stopped when she said angel. The was only one person who has ever called you that. San. Why would he pay for it? He knew that you didn't want any help. Everyone did. Even if you did, you were stubborn. You felt like you had to do everything yourself.

You pull out your phone and pull up a picture of San. "Was this him?"

"It was." She recognized him instantly. "He was a real sweetheart."

"Thank you for your time."

You picked up your bag before walking out of the building. You pulled your hood over your head as you exit the building. You speed walk as you make your way back to your car. You open the door before sliding in, throwing your bag in the back seat. You were glad no one was around as you placed your face in your hands as you let out a frustrated scream.

Was this the grand gesture Leslie was talking about?

You couldn’t wrap your head around San doing something like this. Even though you should have seen it coming. When you were with San, he had gotten you to open up to him. That included both good and bad. You remember him holding you all night as you cried about your money struggles. He had begged you to let him help you, but you always said no. You felt like you could do it yourself. That was until San outed you one night. 

Your parents told you that you would never survive on your own. Not without them. They have since apologized for that, but you still remember. You didn’t want to feel like a burden to anyone else like how you once did with your parents. San understood that, but he still wanted to help you. He tried to convince you that just because he helps you doesn’t make you a burden. You wouldn’t have to pay it back which also upset you. You knew that everyone was only trying to help you. But it was hard to ask and receive help when you haven’t had it in so long.

You walk into yours and Chae’s shared apartment. Chae was sitting on the couch waiting for you as she always did when you went to pay your tuition. You always came home upset as the numbers never seemed like they were going down. You would always go to her and let out your frustrations and fears. You felt like you were never going to graduate. Chae always did her best to erase those worries. Even if it involved holding you all night while you cried. You would never find yourself a better friend, and you always made sure to tell her that.

“How did it go?” Chae asked hesitantly. You just stood there for a moment after kicking off your shoes. After not answering her, she lifted up the edge of the blanket. You threw your bag onto the floor as you ran to her arms.

She hugged you tightly as you cried. This time it wasn’t because you felt like you were going to graduate. This time it was because you were going to graduate. All of those sleepless nights of studying would finally pay off. All because of San. You didn’t know how you were going to repay him.

“Was it that bad?”

“No.” You sobbed. You pulled away from her and wiped your tears with your sleeve. “My tuition is paid.”

Chae’s eyes widened as she jumped up. “You finally paid it off. I’m so proud of you! I knew you could do it. Even if you are a stubborn bitch.”

“That’s the thing. I didn’t pay for it.” You told her. She looked at you in confusion.

“Then who did?”

“San.”

Chae finally understood your tears as she sat back down onto the couch. 

“What the hell am I supposed to do?” You asked.

“Graduate.” Chae answered. You looked over at her. “That’s what San wants, or he wouldn’t have paid for it.”

“But what about San?” You asked.

“What about him?”

“Wooyoung said that San had been saving up to buy the bar.” You told her. “What if he can’t buy it now because of me?”

“I want to say that isn’t your concern anymore, but that wouldn’t be the case because you still love him. And it’s obvious that he loves you back. He paid your tuition even though you said you hated him.” Chae answered.

“I also said I never wanted to see him again.”

“Is that true?” Chae asked. You shook your head as you looked at your lap. 

The two of you have had this conversation many times since you and San had broken up. Of course, Chae was on your side. She always was. Even when you were wrong. That also meant that she didn’t believe you when you went on your drunk rampages about him. Screaming that you never wanted to see him again. That you wished you had never met him. All things that she knew wasn’t true. She also knew that you knew that they weren’t true. You were just lying to yourself and to her. She knew you wanted to stay strong, but you can only stay strong so long before you break.

“No.” You answer. “And I don’t know what to do about it.”

“What do you want to do?” Chae asked. You sighed as you flopped back on the couch. Chae laid the cover over the both of you as you thought about your options.

“I am still upset over everything, but I’m not mad anymore. I feel like I can forgive him now that I have had time to think everything over.” You told Chae. She listened as you ranted.

“(Y/N), you know he’s sorry, or else he wouldn’t have paid your tuition. He also sings your favorite songs every night at the bar.” 

“Does he really?” You ask her.

She nodded her head. “Last night he played (Y/F/S). It was funny listening to all of the drunks try to sing along with him.”

“My finals are coming up. I feel like that needs to be my main focus. I feel bad not saying anything to him though.” You admit.

“I’m sure he’ll understand. He’s waited for you this long. What’s two more weeks?

“I feel like a proud parent.”

“Shut up Chae.”

The two of you get out of the car. Today was finally the day that you felt would never come. You were graduating college. All of the pain and tears were finally worth it. You were finally going to walk across that stage and get your degree. Your parents were going to watch you do something they never thought you would.

“I can’t help it. All of the struggling paid off. I can finally be your sugar baby.”

You laughed as the two of you made your way to the auditorium. You left her side as you made your way to where you were supposed to go. You didn’t know where Chae was sitting, but you easily found here by her yelling. 

You watch as everyone along with you graduated. You prayed that you wouldn’t trip right as you walked across the stage. You smiled as you grabbed the degree and walked off the stage. You looked over to Chae. You smile as you see her hold her phone up. She snaps a picture before yelling loudly.

“That’s my best friend!”

Your cheeks turn red as you make your way back to your seat. You sit down and wait for everyone else to be called. You listen as they thank everyone for coming. You did the traditional cap toss before everyone started to celebrate. You push through the large crowd as you looked for Chae. You barely had time to register as you were nearly knocked down by a hug.

“I’m so proud of you.”

“Thank you. I don’t think I would’ve done it without you.” You tell your best friend. She slaps you before fanning her face.

“Don’t you dare make me cry.”

You look around, stopping you spot a familiar face. “Mom?”

Your parents walk up to you. This is the first time you had seen them in 3 years. They seem nervous as they smile at you. Your father decided to speak up first.

“I’m very proud of you (Y/N).”

You look at him in shock. “You are?”

“We both are.” Your mother spoke up. “You stood up for what you believed in and look at you now. A strong, beautiful woman. I’m sorry it took us so long to see that.”

“Thank you.”

You are shocked once again as your mother pulls you into a hug. You take a second before you hug her back. When she lets go, your father also hugs you. It felt weird to be around them again. They had caused you so much pain when you had told them what you wanted. They had basically disowned you.

“We’re going to be in town for a few days. Can we meet up for dinner?” Your mother asked. Did she want what you think she wanted? “I know we hurt you, and it will take a long time for your forgiveness. But we want to try to earn your forgiveness and trust once again. For good this time.”

She was right. They hurt you, and it would take a long time to forgive them. That’s if you forgave them. Even if they were your parents. If there’s anything you learned, it’s to be the bigger person. And if they were willing to try to fix their mistakes, who were you to stop them. You would continue to try to fix your relationship with your parents, but only if they were willing to put in the effort on their side. And by the looks on their faces, they were willing to.

“How does tomorrow sound?” You ask.

You parents smiled at the thought of spending time with their daughter finally. They didn’t think it would happen with the pain they caused you. They knew they had no one to blame but themselves, so they were happy you were willing to try to forgive them.

“That sounds great.”

You bid your parents goodbye. You look over to Chae who had the same look of shock on her face. You stared at her until something caught your attention. You watch as someone pulls a hood over their hair before walking away from the ceremony. You couldn’t see their face, but you did see the familiar streak of red in their hair. You were then shaken from your spot.

“(Y/N).” You look back to Chae. “Are you okay?”

You nod your head. “I’m fine. I just thought I saw someone I knew.”

“Well, you did just graduate with these people.” You slap her as she points out the obvious. 

“I thought I saw San.” You admit. You watch her face. You knew she was trying to hide something. “What did you do?”

“Why do you automatically think I did something?” She asked.

“Did you?”

“No.” She immediately answered. You looked at her before tilting your head. “Okay. Maybe I sent San an invitation to come to your graduation.”

“Why did you do that?” You weren’t upset at her. You just wanted to know.

“Because he has been messaging me to see how you were doing these past two months.” Chae admitted. You would be shocked, but you already knew this. She was horrible at keeping secrets. 

“I know that. I was just waiting for you to finally admit it.”

“No, you didn’t.” Chae answered.

“You admitted it when you got wine drunk last week.” You told her. Chae let out a groan.

“Did I really?”

“Yeah. You also admitted that you threatened to hit him with your car.”

“Damn drunk me.” You laugh at her. “You’re not mad, are you?”

“No. You were only looking out for me, but if you’ll excuse me, I have to go.”

“Where are you going?” She asked.

“Sans.” You answered. Chae squealed before pushing you away from her.

“Then what are you waiting for. Go! We’ll celebrate later.”

You knocked on San’s apartment door. You knew what you came here to do, and that was listen to San's side of the story. You want to see if it matched Wooyoung's. If it did, you could finally see yourself forgiving him. If it didn't though, this would be the last time you would ever see San.

You were about to knock again when the door opened. You looked at San who was clearly shocked to see you. "Angel?"

You looked closely at San. This was the first time you'd seen in in two months. You didn't feel pain anymore when you looked at him. That was until you see how much of a mess he was. His hair was damp and sticking in every direction. He looked like he had been sweating. He shirt was wrinkled, and his pants were loosely on his hips.

As much as you wanted to look at him, a wave of anxiety washes over you. He doesn't look like he was just at your graduation. He looks like he was busy with something else. Were you wrong about everything?

"Am I interrupting something?"

San furrowed his eyes in confusion. That's when he remembered how much of a mess he looked. It must look bad in your eyes.

"No." He quickly answered. "I was about to take a shower. There isn't anyone else. Not since you."

Your heart fluttered at his last sentence. You could tell he was nervous by his constant running his hand through his hair. It was cute. You bite your lip to keep yourself from laughing, but it didn't work. You let out a small laugh as you walk past San and into his apartment.

"I never thought I would see the day you would be nervous. Especially over a girl."

"Can you blame me?" San asked. "This is the first time you've talked to me since; you know. I don't want to mess it up."

"Like you did when you made that bet." You asked. You watched as his face dropped. You decided to apologize. "Sorry, I'm being petty. That wasn't the full reason I can here."

"Why did you come here? Not that I don't mind, but the last time we spoke, you said you never wanted to see me again." San watched as you sat on the couch. He wanted to sit next to you. He wanted to hold you like he had been dying to do these last two months. For obvious reasons, he didn't do that. He sat on the chair across from you.

"I did, didn't I?" You mumbled. "A lot of things have changed over the last two months. One of those changes being my anger towards you."

"So, you don't hate me anymore?" San asked. For the first time you looked into his eyes. San felt like his heart had stopped beating.

"San, I never hated you." You told him. "I hated your stupid actions, yes. But not you."

"How don’t you hate me?"

"Do you want me to hate you?" You asked. You laughed when he jumped up.

"No! Please don't hate me. I'll do anything."

"Calm down, San. I'm not going anywhere." San could feel the hope build up when you said that. He hoped he didn't misinterpret it. "The reason that I came here is because I'm finally ready to talk about everything that happened between us. I have questions, and I want answers. Honest ones."

"I promise to be completely honest with you." San held up his pinky, something he always did to you. You smiled softly as you wrapped your pinky around his. He let go of your hand before standing up and walking towards the kitchen.

"What are you doing?"

"If we're being honest, we might as well loosen up properly." San answered. You assumed he meant alcohol.

"Only if its-" You stopped your sentence when San held up your favorite wine. The only kind you would drink. "Trying to earn some brownie points I see."

"For you always."

San poured the two of you a full glass of wine. You tucked your feet underneath you as you sipped on your wine. You knew that San was waiting for you to start the conversation. You were just trying to figure out how. You decided to just start from the beginning.

"Is the only reason you talked to me because of that stupid bet?"

"No." San answered. "I would've talked to you regardless. You were and are still the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. I would've done anything to try and make you mine."

You looked up at him. "If that's the case, why didn't you tell me about the bet?"

"Because I'm an idiot." San took a long sip of his wine. "I thought it would ruin everything. I didn't think that you would trust me when I said that bet didn't matter to me. Only you."

"I can't say that things would've been fine, but I don't think I would've been as mad if you would've told me yourself." You told him. "The way things played out was very confusing. I felt torn because I knew that you had cared about me, but I also felt like you had used me."

A hand gripped yours as San moved next to you on the couch. "I will never be able to forgive myself for the way I made you feel. I never wanted to hurt you. I know I broke your trust in me, but please believe me when I say that I never used you."

"I know that now." You told him. "I also know you cut the bet off after our first date."

San looked at you in shock. "How did you know that?"

"Wooyoung." You outed his best friend. "He also told me that you cried like a baby."

"He told me he would never tell anyone." You laughed at San's outburst.

"I was joking about that. Did you really?"

"No." He quickly answered. He pouted as you continued to laugh, even though he loved the sound. "Stop laughing"

"I'm sorry. You're just so cute."

You watched as San looked down at his lap. "I should be the one apologizing. I am so sorry for this whole bet situation. I didn't want to let you down. I'm not sorry for loving you. You were the best thing to ever happen to me."

"Were?" You asked. "You say that part tense like we're through."

"Aren't we though? You said so yourself."

"San, look at me." You tell him. He continues to look at his lap. "Please, San."

You could see the tears in his eyes as he looked up at you. You placed you hand on his cheek as you wiped away his tears. You felt like you could spend the rest of your life telling him how much you cared for him, but you knew of a better way.

You leaned over and pressed your lips to San's. He instantly responded to you. You could taste the tears as you poured all of your emotions into the kiss. You leaned your forehead on his as you pulled away.

"Why did you do that?"

"Because I love you."

You let out a sound of shock as San pulls you into his lap. His hands wrap tightly around your waist as he buries his head in your neck. You softly rub his back as he cries into your shoulder.

"You shouldn't. I hurt you."

"It would be different if it didn't affect you this bad." You answer as you play with his long strands of black hair.

"But-"

"San, do you love me?"

San pulled back to look at you. You almost edited cooed at his puffy face. He looked so cute. "So much. I just want to spend the rest of my life making you happy."

"Then say it back."

"I love you, (Y/N)."

You smiled as you gave him a quick peck on the lips. "I love you, San. I just want to forget everything that happened."

"Really?" San couldn't believe what he was hearing. Instead of responding, you pulled him into another kiss. This one more sensual than the others.

San pulls you impossibly closer as he deepens the kiss. All of your past worries and stress melt away as San kisses you. It was just you two. The way it was supposed to be.

You let out a sigh as San pulls away from your lips and makes his way down your neck. You grip his shirt as he sucks on a tender spot. He was making sure to leave a mark. He wanted to make sure that everyone knew that you belonged to him. And he wasn’t going to mess that up again.

As you pull his shirt over his head, he pulls away from your neck. You throw his shirt to the side before reconnecting your lips. You slowly run your hands down his chest, feeling every muscle clench underneath your fingertips. You stop right below the waistband of his pants making him groan in anticipation.

Before you could go any further, San's hands tightly grip your thighs before lifting you up. You kiss down his neck, leaving a few marks like he had done to you. You feel him squeeze your ass as he sits on the bed with you in his lap.

"You're going to be the death of me."

You laugh at his statement before pecking his lips. Apparently, it wasn't enough for San as he chased after you as you pulled away. You get off of his lap before kneeling in front of him. His words were mumbled, so you couldn't understand him as you unbuttoned his pants. He holds his hips up as you slide his pants down his legs.

"Are you sure you want to do this?"

You look up at him. You haven't given him a blow job yet. Only a hand job. He always wanted to make you feel 100% comfortable during your time together. He always gave you pleasure. Now you were going to return the favor.

Instead of answering, you grab his semi hard shaft before licking a strip along it. You watch as San throws his head back in pleasure as you place his head in your mouth. You softly suck, looking up at him to see if you were doing it right. You had no experience in this. As bad as it sounds, you were just going off of the videos you had watched.

San's hand strokes the side of your face as your eyes meet his. "You're doing so well, Angel."

You test yourself as you fit his length in your mouth. You fit as much as you could, and you wrapped your hand around the rest. You slowly bob your head up and down his length. You could tell that you were doing good by the sounds that were coming out of San's mouth.

You didn't know what to do with your other hand until you remember what you had watched. You softly grab his balls before giving them a small squeeze. A rather loud moan comes out of San's mouth. You look up at San to see him staring down at you. He swears he could come just from the look you were giving him.

"Are you sure you've never done this before?"

You pull away from him. Your hand tortures him by continuing to move slowly across his shaft. "No. Am I bad?"

"Quite the opposite." He answered. "I don't think I've ever seen a prettier sight. You've almost made me cum twice already."

"Really?" San nodded before pulling you back up into his lap. You tried to continue what you had started, but he stopped you with a kiss. "You don't want me to continue?"

"As much as I do, I only want to cum inside of you. Is that okay Angel?"

"Yes."

"And you're going to be a good girl and let me, aren't you?"

"Please." You beg him.

"Then let's get these clothes off."

You get off of San's lap, so you could take off your clothes. You watch as San props himself on a pillow to watch you. You felt a blush form on your face as you slowly take off your clothes. Just because you were nervous doesn't mean you couldn't tease him.

After you had shed all of your clothes, you crawled back into San's lap. San instantly responded to your kiss. He easily slipped his tongue past your lips, exploring the inside of your mouth. You moaned as he pulled away from you.

"Angel, I think you're sitting on the wrong spot."

You looked at him confused. "What do you mean? Where else would I sit?"

San leaned close to you, his lips brushing against yours. "My face."

"Oh." Your face turned red as you understood him. San laughed at your response as he kissed your forehead.

"You don't have to if you don't want to."

"I do. It's just- What if I hurt you?" You ask.

"You won't. I promise." You sit up as San scoots down the bed. "If you want to stop at any time, let me know."

You position yourself to where your heat was directly over San's face. His hands gripped your thighs as he pulled you down onto his face. He wasted no time licking a strip up the center of your heat. You let out a moan as he eats you out like it's his last meal.

"Oh my God, San!"

"Does it feel good?"

He sticks two fingers inside of you making you grip his hair in pleasure. San let out a groan as you pulled his hair. He loved it when his hair was pulled. He had told you that, but you hadn't done it before. You were always scared that you would hurt him.

"S-so good." You moan out.

If San felt like he was on cloud 9 before, he was in heaven when you rolled your hips in pleasure. He knew you didn't realize you were doing it by the way your eyes were screwed shut. His name was coming out of your mouth in small chants. He knew you were close. The louder you got, the closer you were.

You felt a familiar knot rise in your stomach. "San, I'm close."

"I know. Cum for me."

As soon as San said that you released with a loud moan of his name. Your hand untangled itself from his hair as you brush your hair away from your face. You lifted your leg and sat on the bed before your legs gave out. San wasted no time pressing kisses all over your face as you recovered.

"Are you okay?" San asked.

"I don't think I've ever came that hard." You panted out.

Once you had come down from your high, you pulled San into a kiss. Your back landed on the bed as he hovered over you. Your legs wrapped around his waist pulling him down closer to you. San felt himself grow impossibly hard as his shaft brushed against your heat. You yourself had moan at that.

"Please, San." You beg the man above you.

"Please what, Angel?"

"Fuck me."

"With pleasure." San gave you one final kiss before reaching over and grabbing a condom. That was until he realized he didn't have anymore. "Shit."

"What's wrong?" You asked.

San buried his head in your neck. "I don't have any condoms."

"It's okay, San. I trust you."

San looked up to meet your eyes. He saw no hesitation or fear in your eyes. Only love and affection. He pulled you into a sweet kiss before pulling away.

"Are you sure?"

"I am." You assure him. "I love you, San."

"I love you too. So much."

"Then make love to me."

San pressed his lips to yours as he slowly pushed inside of you. It wasn't as painful as your first time together, but it had been two months since you two had sex. San knew that, so he took it easy until you said otherwise. Your nails scrapped down his back as you adjusted to his size.

"Are you okay?"

You waited a minute before responding. "I'm okay. You can move."

San kissed your cheek as he pulled out before pushing himself back into you. San loved the way you felt against him. Your legs wrapped around his waist. Your hands tangled in his hair. He felt like you were made for him. He wouldn't mess this up again.

You let out a soft moan as the pain drifted into pleasure. "San, can you go faster please?"

"Anything for you."

You throw your head back has San picked up his pace. He took the opportunity to place kisses along your neck. He could tell that he was starting to get close by the way he sped up. He was starting to become sloppy. But he wouldn't cum before you.

San reached down to rub your already swollen clit. You buried your head in his neck as he brought the two of you closer to your highs.

"S-San, I-I'm close."

"I know baby. I am too."

San watched as you came first. You let out a loud moan as you came to your high. San watched you in awe, completely unaware of his own high until it was too late. He didn't want to come inside of you, but he couldn't help it. The way you clenched around him. San let out a moan of his own as he released inside of you. San placed his head on your chest as the two of you caught your breath.

"I love you." You spoke up first. San looked up at you with a smile.

"I love you more."

You let out a whimper as San pulled out of you. He pulls you into his side. You threw your leg over him as you cuddled into his side. The two of you were covered in sweat, but you didn't mind. Especially when San kissed you sweetly on your head as he pulled the covers over you.

"San, can I ask you a question?" You speak up after a moment of silence.

"Of course."

You prop your head up on your hand so you could look at him. "Why did you pay off my tuition?"

"I could see how much you had worried about it. You always told me not to worry, but your eyes said differently. I wanted to help you, whether we were together or not." San explained.

"But what about the bar?" You asked. San looked at you in confusion.

"What about it?"

"Wooyoung told me that you were saving up to buy it."

San let out a scoff. "Did he tell you all of my secrets?"

"San."

"It did take a portion of that away, but that's not going to stop me. I will own that bar." San told you.

"I can help you." You tell him. San shook his head.

"I'm not taking your money."

"Will you take my knowledge?" You asked. San was confused once again. "I did just graduate with a degree in business and finance."

"We'll take about that later, okay? All I want to do is to take a shower with my love and spend the rest of the evening together."

You smile and kiss his lips. "That could be arranged."

"I love you, Angel."

"I love you too, San."

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

Hi!!! Can you do a Jess Mariano fic where they are a couple and she’s a Gilmore. Maybe she show Lorelei why she’s in live with Jess?? Thanks for your fics:)))

-

Lorelai’s head snapped up when you mentioned Jess and boyfriend in the same sentence, forgetting about the take out styrofoam before her.

‘’Wow wow, let’s rewind, missy. Jess as in Jess Mariano, Luke’s nephew?’’

You hummed, chewing your bite of pasta.

You had been dreading telling your mom about Jess and your’s new relationship status, knowing she would immediately disapprove. She’s always had a low opinion of him and you doubted she would ever change her mind — even if you told her you loved him.

‘’I visited him in Philadelphia with Rory last month for his book release,’’ you explained, an absentminded smile curling on your lips at the thought of Jess. ‘’We spent the whole afternoon talking and it was like we never lost contact. We caught up on life, and one thing led to another. I ended up driving to Philadelphia again the following weekend.’’

You spared her the moment he chased after you down the street because he thought it would be his last time seeing you and kissed you on the sidewalk. The rom-com moment will forever be engraved in your mind.

‘’No,’’ Lorelai interrupted. ‘’I’m not letting this happen.’’

‘’Letting what happen? Me and Jess?’’

‘’Yes.’’

‘’Sorry to break it to you, Mom, but you don’t really have a say. Maybe you could control my life when I was sixteen, but I’m an adult now and I get to choose who I date, who I give my heart to.’’

‘’He’s not right for you,’’ she said, recycling her speech from years ago. ‘’He wasn’t when he got shipped here three years ago and I doubt he had a 360 personality change. End of conversation. The food is gonna get cold.’’

It felt wrong to stand up to your mother, you hated fighting with her, but you wouldn’t let her dictate what was right or not for you. You felt like the protagonist of a romance novel — having to fight for your love. Perhaps you should see it as a compliment, all the great love stories had to fight to be together.

You put your fork down a little harder than intended. ‘’Conversation not over! He’s changed, Mom. He got his life together. He got his GAD and co-owns a publishing company—’’

''Hourra for him.’’ Her sarcasm was rude and childish. She was really hurting your feelings, yet she couldn’t see past her hatred.

Now you understood the way she felt when her parents didn’t want her to date Christopher. You were hoping wouldn’t act the same with you, that she would be on your side since she knew how it feels, but she disappointedly proved you wrong.

‘’You’re so hung up on his past and how he reminds you of Dad that you refuse to see that he’s actually a good person. Jess is not like Dad, Mom. They both wear leather jackets and have troublemaker tendencies, but they're very different.’’

‘’He’s gonna ruin your life, Y/N. That’s all guys like him do.’’

‘’He’s not! Jess wants the best for me.’’ Before Lorelai could place a word, you beat her. ‘’I bet you didn’t know that he’s the one who told Rory to go back to Yale? He exploded at her after a terrible dinner with her and Logan, calling her out on dropping out of Yale, hanging out with rich guys in fancy cars and practically turning into our grandmother. If it hadn’t been for him, she would still be living in grandma’s bungalow.’’

The look of disbelief on Lorelai’s face was one to remember. You wish you could have taken a picture to put on the fridge.

‘’What?!’’

‘’If you would just stop picking on the things that give you an itch and give him a real chance, you would see how great of a person he really is.’’

‘’But he hurt my baby…’’

‘’He did,’’ you agreed, flashes of all the tears you’ve cried because of Jess when he left town. Your first heartbreak. ‘’I appreciate that you trashed him to me when I was sad of him being gone, but the heartbreak is over and Jess and I are back together. I love you, Mom, and I don’t want my relationship to put a strain between us, but I’m also not going to leave Jess to make you happy.’’

-

[posttexasstressdisorder]

Celebrating July 4th in Strange Times, Pt 2

Of a Too-hot Kitchen, the Sauce, the Meatballs, and the Tater Sallid.

I got goin' as soon as I felt caffeinated, glad I did, as far as time required to get things done. Had to tell my self not to lose focus or get distracted a few times, and things are done, except the oven-roasting of the chicken thighs slathered with The Sauce, which can happen about 5pm. By 1pm kitchen was too hot, so cooling breaks of running back to my room for five-ten mins and back out ensued.

First things first today: Start The Sauce & The Tater Sallid.

for The Sauce:

1 lg yellow onion, finely sliced, and then minced...very finely chopped!

Start clarifying that in about 2 tblspns butter over medium heat. Sprinkle in a teaspoon of salt and about the same in coarse-ground pepper.

6 -8 large cloves of garlic, finely minced, thrown into the pot with the butter and onion mix. Stir and don't let burn. You want extremely clarified onion/garlic bits, speckled with black pepper.

Once you get there, dump in 16 oz tomato sauce, stir and mix thoroughly.

Now pour in 1/2 cup Grandma's Molasses, stir in.

Add in 1 cup Heinz ketchup, and 1/4 cup white vinegar, stir vigorously.

Stir in 1 heaping teaspoon of coarse-stone-ground mustard.

Now pour in 1 cup strong black coffee. Stir it in until you've got a mixture that's pulling together.

Now keep on the back burner to "cook down" until it is a thick, viscous and clingy goo. Perfect for stickin' to da chicken.

Now throw on the potatoes to boil: 4 or 5 lbs of either red potatoes or goldens. You want a waxier tater for this, rather than a gritty one like a russet. Yeah...boil them quickly, salted water to cover by at least a couple inches. Twenty -thirty minutes tops. Until the skins are cracking. Drain and allow to cool for about 20 minutes.

While that's happening, hard-boil 4-5 eggs, depending on what size they are. These were tiny mediums, so I'm using 5. Bring to a boil, cover, remove from heat and let sit for 15 minutes. Voila. Peel.

Meanwhile, chop one big-ass RED onion, and 3 or 4 garlic dill pickles.

Once the taters have cooled some, hold them with a hot-pad in your palm, and roughly chop them. You want them still MOSTLY hot, but cool enough you don't hurt yourself. It's that mid-point that will give you the texture/feel you want.

Now, pour and sprinkle 2 handfulls of the dill pickle juice over the taters. Add the red onion, pickles and a jar of diced pimientos, plus some of the juice as well. Put the eggs in and the use a knife to rough-chop them as they sit atop the rest of the ingredients.

Now, add 1 1/4-1 1/2 cup HELLMAN'S or BEST FOODS MAYO. Period.

Now stir. Keep stirring, as you are folding all the ingredients together.

That's about the halfway point. Keep goin'...what you're lookin' for is this:

Now, Cover tightly and fridge for the rest of the day, until dinnertime.

Now make The Meatballs (which are tasty dipped in The Sauce!):

Do as you did for The Sauce, the clarified onion/garlic mix. Set aside to cool

In a big bowl, pour the following:

2 cups Progresso Italian Breadcrumbs

1 cup grated parmesan

1/2 cup finely chopped parsley

Stir to mix.

Take a 2-cup Pyrex measure, and pour in 1 cup cold water.

Crack in 4 eggs...use a fork and break the eggs up, and distribute through the water. Pour into the bowl and stir into the dry ingredients. Add the onions and garlic (now cooled down.)

Crumble in a pound of ground beef and a pound of hot Italian Sausage. Now comes the fun part. Be four again and squish and squish until it all comes together as a solidly distributed mix.

Form into balls and bake at 350 for about a half hour and you get this:

Did I mention they're killer dipped in The Sauce?

lulz. OK. SO: Meatballs? Check! Sauce? Check! Tater Sallid? Check! It's about ten til four. I'm gonna shoot for a seven-seven-thirty eat time, so I'll start roasting the chicken about 5pm.

Which means I got an hour to CHILL in THE AC.

Will follow up with Pt 3 later.

Y'all chill.

[iu-jjang]

[FANCAFE] 230122 From.IU - Happy Seollal [Lunar New Year’s Day]

Strictly NO screencapping or sharing allowed on other platforms

Hello uaenas 👋🏻

Are you all have a happy seollal?

I got up early in the morning (by my standards) and returned home for the ancestral rites, ate lots of new year food and fruits, gave my new year bows and received bows too.. keke

Then I returned to my place with lots of food that my mum packed for me, organised my fridge and now I’m finally sitting down to catch my breath! (Actually there wasn’t much to do 🤫)

Many of you will probably be asking in the comments, so I’ll just tell you first that the most delicious dishes were braised short ribs and grilled fish!

Also, the TMI for today (someone will ask for sure, right?) is that my nephew made meatballs for the first time today (my dad used to be in charge of them all) and kept asking me to try them when we sat down to eat, so I tried my best to give all kinds of reactions and eventually I promised him that I would set up shop selling meatballs for him😀

We agreed that the name of the shop will be ‘Meatballs Made by Round Jeongyu Restaurant’~

I didn’t feel like getting up early, was in a daze on my way for the ancestral rites and now that I’m not a kid anymore, it feels awkward to be giving new year bows to my parents and grandma, but it was pretty fun for the whole family to meet and chat and the shiny new year food tasted good even though it always tastes the same and the four crumpled 50,000won notes that my grandma gave me in an envelope are really precious to me.

We tend to meet early, have our meal and go back home. Some uaenas may only be reaching their parents or grandparents’ place now and will be staying for the night, so have a safe journey and eat a lot of delicious food! (Although it’s a bit of trouble..🤫) Receive lots of new year pocket money too! (And give just a little..🙄) Exchange lots of well wishes too!! (Don’t listen to or be the one nagging..🤧) If there are any uaenas not going anywhere and just spending the new year quietly, I hope you have a good rest, eat well, have a good time and spend the short and full new year to the best 🔥

By the way, you know the day after tomorrow will be freezing right..? It’s going to be really cold.. If you didn’t know, you should now!! They say it’s going to be really cold, so take out your thermal wear and winter clothes again..

Coat..? No, that won’t do.. Start wearing that the week after the next..

There’s not much left to winter now! Let’s not give it any chance at all!!! For the rest of winter, dress warmly and don’t fall sick!

Lastly, I gave my word in the the video to uaenas in January.

Now that we’re starting our 6th generation of uaenas, we need a new nickname starting with 6 [yook] but my agency and I are both having a hard time thinking of one.. We have selected two names for now!

To give a bit of spoiler, it’s a close match between the name of a plant and an imaginary animal.

But come to think of it, it’s not just 6, even 7[chil].. myeon jo [turkey]..? 8[pal].. bo chae (stir-fried seafood and vegetables]..??

I don’t want to call our uaenas yookhoe (raw beef dish) or turkey or stir-fried seafood and vegetables..🥲

So anyway I’m trying to think of ideas in advance these days~ keke If you all have any ideas, do share them with us 😌

I’m going to take a nap now then.

As I had to leave early, I pretty much didn’t sleep last night, so I’m really sleepy now.

While I’m sleeping, everyone don’t take a break, eat lots of delicious food and enjoy the new year which only comes around once a year!!

Love love 🫶

Bye! 😪😴

Strictly NO screencapping or sharing allowed on other platforms

Translated by IUteamstarcandy with love

[epersonae]

The Cooking Project: an introduction

So I've posted quite a bit about my issues with executive dysfunction around cooking, which started the summer before Ryn died and have lingered since then. I've tried a few things to break through it, with limited success.

Then: I was talking to some friends recently and we got talking about "grandma recipes". (See also: @triflesandparsnips' work with soaps and lip balms etc.) In that conversation, I realized again both that I have a lot of cooking knowledge, actually, and that I have my own little collection of that sort of recipes.

I've watched food tv since long before food network existed, and I love figuring out and understanding how cooking works. And I have both a stack of index cards accrued over the years, and an actual binder of print-outs and magazine clippings etc etc, some of which date back almost 30 years at this point.

And then I looked at those cards, and OMG, there's so many that aren't quite complete recipes, including a few that don't even say what they are, plus a few that I've never made. The binder, too, is a mix of things I used to make all the time, and some that were purely aspirational.

wait, what are you doing?

So I'm trying this thing where I make something from my collection, and make some notes about it. (Yeah, I'm doing ye olde food blogging, what of it.) The idea is to get back into regular cooking not as self-care or maintenance or overhauling my daily life or whatever, but by exploring an old special interest, and enjoying the play of it.

the first recipe: key lime pie from tumblr

At the suggestion of one of these friends, I started with a recipe that I found here on Tumblr, at some point I don't remember when, that I've never made: key lime pie. (Apologies for no link, but I literally have no idea what post it was or even when I wrote it down.)

Recipe text, transcribed:

12 oz can sweetened cond. milk 3 egg yolks 1/2 c key lime juice

mix until smooth heat oven to 350F, prebake graham cracker crust for 15 min pour in filling, bake 15 min cool 30 min on counter, then in fridge for 4hrs - overnight

Notes:

sweetened condensed milk only comes in 14oz cans now. I did some math, and increased the lime juice by one tablespoon.

the recipe as I wrote it didn't say what size pie crust. I bought a 9" and I think an 8" would have been a better choice. the ratio of crust to filling was off and the outer edge was frankly silly looking.

I have, in the past, made graham cracker crust from scratch. it's pretty easy, but also premade pie crust, sure why not.

the prebaking was definitely too long, and it ended up tasting a little burnt. I'd do more like 10 minutes max next time.

I started preheating the oven before I mixed the ingredients, because I know how long it takes my oven to preheat.

if I had the experience, I think I would have made a meringue with the egg whites. maybe next time I'll try it.

I added the info about increasing lime juice, the crust size, and baking timing to my card for future reference.

Final thoughts

I would make it again! The filling was tart and creamy, a nice contrast to the crust, and I've always loved key lime pie. Very easy, tasty, and I've added the key parts of my notes to the back of the card.

Update, a couple of weeks later: ended up freezing two slices, will see if they're good unfrozen. (I have a soft spot for terrible frozen key lime pie slices.)

[sin-cognito]

Kustard week 2023 day 7: Little Red Riding Hood

Wordcount: 1377

~The wolf relentlessly tempted the little red hiding hood to stray from the path to her grandma's~

@kustardweek

READ ON AO3

Red snuffed his half smoked cigarette on the sole of his shoe and put on his sexiest grin when he heard the elevator door open. He knew who the monster inside was even before seeing him, but Red still side glanced at the elevator. He'd never pass an opportunity to get an eyelightful of the little skeleton of his dreams.

"heya sansy," he purred as the other passed him by, purposefully ignoring him. Too bad for Sans, Red was into it. "had a good day today? wanna end it with a bang and come to my place, if you catch my drift?" He winked and he would've made a lewd gesture to really get his point across if Sans wasn't so deliberately looking at anything but him.

By that point he was hovering over the other, who was trying to balance his grocery bags while grabbing his keys. Red was propped up with one arm on the wall next to the door while the other was nonchalantly buried in his pocket, his hips suggestively swung to the side.

But Sans still ignored him.

In his attempt to not pay any sort of attention to the bulkier monster being sexy as fuck next to him, Sans didn't notice some of his groceries trying to escape the bags, and Red had to break his pose to catch them mid fall.

"oops, gotta be careful there, dollface," he grinned at Sans, who finally had no choice but to look at him.

"urgh, red, can we not do this again today?" He sighed as he finally got his key in the keyhole now that his arms weren't as heavy from all the groceries.

"you mean that little dance between you and me, where you pretend like you're not interested and make me court you some more?" Red whistled as he followed Sans inside, totally uninvited, to help him with the groceries. "sure, we can skip that part where you go all stubborn and refuse me, and go right on to kissing."

Red grinned wider when he saw Sans roll his eyelights. Teasing and playfully pissing off his crush had been his favorite past time for the last 3 months or so, ever since he had found this little cutie walking around on campus all alone. Red immediately had a thing for him, and started hitting on Sans right away. Sans was surprisingly resistant to his flirting, but Red knew he'd run out of patience eventually. Sans was gonna be his at some point, he knew it.

Of course he knew that his reputation as a bad boy and professional Casanova probably didn't help his case, but Sans should be flattered that Red had his SOUL set on the lonely little skeleton! It was an honor to be invited to Red's bed, really. Besides, Red really wasn't an asshole, he always made sure to show his darlings a great time. He was actually skilled.

Though Sans' case was slightly different. Red probably wouldn't have bothered with an unwilling monster for so long if he didn't feel like it could actually turn into something more. Sure he was more used to fun times and one night stands, but that didn't mean that he was a stranger to dating. So far Sans had managed to turn down all his attempts at either going on a date together or having a quick, uncomplicated fuck, but Red's real objective with the little cutie was something that would last. He was ready to put in the effort.

"red, i've had a long and tiring day and i'm really not in the mood to humor you right now," Sans groaned as he put his groceries away, Red helping him even if Sans hadn't asked.

"it's alrighty, sweetheart," Red replied with an exagerated lilt in his voice. Sans wasn't making the flirting easy today, but Red enjoyed working for it. It was more rewarding. "we can just let our bodies do all the talking."

Sans slammed the fridge's door shut so abruptly that it startled Red, who accidentally clutched the cake he was holding too much and turned it into putty. Oops.

"no, red," Sans said, his voice lower and angrier Red has ever heard coming from the normally gentle skeleton. "i don't want to date you, i don't want to hang out with you, i don't like you. you are annoying. we're never going to be anything, neither lovers nor boyfriends and i'm definitely not into doing anything remotely sexual with you. i've tried so many times to let you down gently but it didn't work, so sorry if this is harsh but i don't know how else to tell you: you are in the friend zone. forever. and that won't change."

Red blinked a few times when Sans was done.

Okay so he had noticed that Sans wasn't returning his affections, but he didn't think it was so bad. He thought that maybe Sans was just a little shy, maybe just a little virgin and didn't know how to react to being hit on by a more experienced skeleton. If Red was in the friend zone, then all his dreams of dating Sans would never come true...

"well uhh... alright," Red said, scratching the back of his skull. He placed the mushed cake back on the table, wincing at how it now looked. "then i'm gonna go, i guess."

"yes, please," Sans sighed, sounding relieved.

Without another word, Red made his way out of the apartment. He wondered what he was going to do tonight, if he wasn't going to spend the evening with Sans. There was one thing he knew he had to do, so he rushed to the nearest bakery.

A little under half an hour later, Red was back in front of Sans' apartment. He knocked politely and waited for the small skeleton to open the door.

"red, i literally just told you that-," Sans began but Red interrupted him.

"no worries buddy, i ain't staying." He lifted his arm to show Sans what he had just bought. "i just got you a replacement cake to make up for the one i crushed earlier. sorry about that, you just got me by surprise and i have sharp claws. it's blueberry flavor, i think you like those?"

Sans' eyebrows shot up, and it took him a few seconds to recover before he hesitantly took the cake from Red's hands.

"uhm... okay? thanks?" Sans said softly. "this isn't a stupid plan to invite yourself in again, is it?" He asked suspiciously.

"nah," Red waved him with a chuckle. "you told me you ain't interested in dating me and i'm not a jerk. i'm fine with the friend zone, if i can't be your man i can at least be your friend and i'll be more than happy with that. welp, guess i'm really gonna go now."

Red turned on his heels and was about to walk away when a little hand grabbed his sleeve.

"hold on, you... still wanna be friends?" Sans asked incredulously. "even after i've rejected you like that?"

Red laughed.

"well, you said i was in the friend zone, right? so that means i still have hopes to hang out with you, even if dating is no longer on the table. well, that's fine by me, i got attracted to you in the first place because i think you're nice, so that hasn't changed."

A lovely cobalt blush spread on Sans' cheeks, and the small skeleton once again looked at anything but Red.

"i.. uhm... that's..." He stammered but couldn't find whatever it was he was trying to say, so Red chuckled again as he playfully pinched the tip of Sans' nasal bone.

"hey, no blushing between pals, that's gay. anyway, i'll see you tomorrow in class, yeah?" He said over his shoulder as he made his way back to the elevator.

The doors were about to close when Sans rushed in, slamming his arms between the closing doors of the elevator. Red looked at the small skeleton quizzically, while Sans was catching his breath.

"one date," the small skeleton said. "i'll give you one date to impress me and make me change my mind."

Welp. Red had always enjoyed a good challenge.

[skylarmoon71]

Bumblebee (Transformers) Chapter 8

The week that followed was hard. 

Bumblebee did all he could, but you’d found a way to avoid him at every turn. The days he did run into you. You didn’t bat an eye in his direction. You walked right past him in school hallways and sat the furthest from him in classes. Sam and Mickeala were receiving the same treatment. 

He never thought it was possible to feel heartbreak when he physically didn’t even have a heart. 

Nothing felt the same and it was all his fault. 

If he’d just said something you would not have activated that machine. You would have been safe that night and you would no doubt have protected his secret. 

Every trip that they took, Bumblebee could not focus. It had gotten so bad that Optimus had no choice but to take him out of the field. 

“I can fight!” Bumblebee insisted. 

Optimus shook his head. 

“You are distracted. We cannot afford a casualty. You need time, old friend.” 

He wanted to punch something. So he retreated to Sam’s place. What else could he do? When he made it to Sam’s house he wasn’t even surprised to see them sitting on the porch. Both of them had their books out next to the table, but from their expressions, it was clear nothing was being done. Bee walked up the step, and Sam lifted his head. 

“You’re back?” 

Bee nods, turning his head. 

“Optimus said that I need a break. He won’t let me back until I’m focused. “ 

Sam couldn’t say that this was a surprise. Mickeala flipped through one of her books, and a flier fell out. Bee’s brows knitted, and he picked up the paper. The information of the school dance printed with beautiful colors. 

“We..were supposed to go together..” 

He couldn’t believe how quickly everything had fallen apart.

Bee crunched the paper into his palm, turning around and taking off down the street. 

“Bee!!” 

Sam yelled after him, and Mikaela merely shook her head. It was obvious where he was headed. Telling Bee to give you space would not discourage him. But they knew that you needed to sort through all of this. Your feelings, pain. It was their fault. Sam took full responsibility. All they could do was wait until you were ready to talk about it. 

~~~

“Honey, would you like some pie?” 

“No thanks grandma!” 

You smile at her as you walk into the kitchen. When her eyes caught the sling on your shoulder you could see the visible worry. 

“I’m okay grandma. It was my fault. I’m just glad John didn’t fire me after I trashed his junkyard. “ 

“I keep telling you that playing around in that place alone is dangerous. You’re lucky all you had was a dislocated shoulder. Oh what would your parents think if they saw you.” She ran a hand through her hair and you just gave her one arm hug.

“They’d be overjoyed that you’re still filling my tummy with delicious pies.” 

She huffed. 

“Flattery will get you nowhere. I’m going to put this in the fridge.” She held up the remainder of the pie and you pulled away after she left a kiss on your forehead. 

“Are you still fighting with your friends. “ The topic made your stomach twist. 

“It’s complicated."

Your grandmother laughed. 

“That’s what us adults say when we don’t want to deal with tough situations.” 

You were annoyed at how right she was. You didn’t want to deal with it. Not at all. 

“If you all really care about each other, you’ll find a way to work it out.” 

She was right, of course she was. 

“You know you’re like a fortune cookie sometimes.” 

“A very youthful fortune cookie!” She called over her shoulder. You giggle, nodding in agreement. The knock at your door pulls your focus. 

“I’ll get it!” 

You move towards the door, and when you open it, you don’t expect the teen.

[lucagray813]

Anything for Free Noodles

Rating: Gen

Word Count: 1,683

Main Characters: Tang, Pigsy, MK

Relationships: Tang & Pigsy (Pre-relationship Freenoodles), Tang & MK, Pigsy & MK

Summary: Pigsy needs an emergency babysitter, Tang was regrettably the only option available.

Additional Tags: Pre-canon, slice of life

CW: None

Link to AO3 Version

----

Tang had been coming to Pigsy's Noodles for a number of years, it had started out as somewhere to go and study but obviously with food that good he rarely went anywhere else.

And having become such a loyal customer he also ended up becoming quite friendly with the titular Pigsy. So much so that the pig demon was happy for Tang to sit in the restaurant while it was shut between the lunch and dinner rush.

He'd even had plenty of friendly chats with Pigsy's grandmother, Xiùyīng, and was a friendly face to Pigsy's adoptive son, MK.

He wasn't super great with small kids but turns out that didn't really matter to MK - the boy had endless energy and never seemed to run out of things to say. He'd been the victim of his one-sided conversations a number of times over the years.

A quick look to Pigsy or Xiùyīng was enough to have them whisk him away but as long as he wasn't cramming for a deadline he could tolerate it. His father and grandmother as obviously as they loved him could do with a five minute break now and then.

It was on a seemingly normal day that things took an unexpected turn. MK had been upstairs watching TV, Pigsy had been preparing for the dinner rush and he had been quietly studying at the counter when Pigsy had received a call that he left to take in another room.

Completely frazzled, Pigsy had stormed back into the room shortly after and quickly started to tidy things away.

More than a little concerned he asked, "Er, Pigsy? Everything alright?"

Pigsy whipped around to face him after grabbing some paper. And while writing he explained shortly, "Hospital called. My grandma's had a fall. I need to get there asap. Tang, I'm really sorry but I need to close the shop for the day."

He then moved to stick the hastily written sign on the door as Tang responded with concern, "Is she ok?"

Pigsy responded, "She's not dying but sounds like she's got one hell of a concussion and leg injury out of it. She's going to be in at least overnight. I need to go to her's, pick up her stuff and then get to the hospital."

Pigsy shot a worried look at the stairs that led up to his apartment before turning back to him a little desperate, "Tang, I know I'm asking a lot here but MK does not handle stress well. Would you be able to watch him for a couple hours? Please?"

Even seeing how harried Pigsy was he couldn't help but be reluctant, "Me? Are you sure? You don't have anyone better suited...?"

Pigsy pleaded with him, "Not on such short notice. Plus he knows you and you know he's a good kid." He looked away for a moment before he played his winning card, "Look, do this for me and noodles are on the house for the week."

Free noodles? For a week? For basically sitting here like he had been planning to? He'd be crazy to pass that up!

Trying not to let the excitement take over, he responded, "For you Pigsy? Anything!"

Pigsy snorted, not at all surprised or impressed at his quick turnaround but he didn't pass comment - the important thing was he had a babysitter.

He grabbed another piece of paper, "This is my number. Call me if you need anything. Feel free to go upstairs. I hopefully shouldn't be gone that late but there's enough leftovers in the fridge upstairs for both you and MK."

He handed the number to him and paused for a moment, sincerity clear as he said, "Tang. Thank you for this."

He didn't get a chance to respond before Pigsy turned and sharply called MK's name. A thump was heard from above followed by the thundering of a child running down the stairs.

MK appeared looking worried, "I was just watching TV!"

Given how Pigsy had called him, Tang wasn't surprised that MK had assumed the worst. He'd been given a fright by the shout as well.

Pigsy seemed to realise this too and he kneeled down as he waved MK over to him, "You're not in trouble. I just need to go out for a bit so Mr. Tang is going to watch you, ok?"

MK was immediately distressed, "You're going out just now? But the shop's about to open!"

Pigsy had a hand on his shoulder as he responded, "We're going to be shut for a little bit but I'll be back in a few hours. You won't even notice that I'm gone."

This didn't seem to appease him at all, "But where are you going? Did something happen?" He glanced at Tang, "Where's grandma? Why can't she come watch me?"

Tang watched in real time as Pigsy struggled to come up with what to say, he clearly didn't want to tell MK the truth but a believable lie seemed beyond him.

He settled on, "Your grandma went out for the day, remember? Look, I promise everything is ok and I'll explain it all when I get back but I really need to get going. Can you be good for Mr. Tang?"

Very reluctantly, MK nodded. Pigsy ruffled his hair and kissed his head before standing up, "Thata boy. I'll be back before you know it."

Through out all of this Tang had been doing his best to give them some privacy, playing around with his phone long after he'd saved Pigsy's number and sent him his own.

Pigsy thanked him once more before heading out, and MK looked so sad as he stood by the window and waved goodbye, standing there long after Pigsy was gone from sight.

Tang was starting to regret agreeing to this in the face of such upset. Pigsy and Xiùyīng had both mentioned before that MK was a bit of a sensitive kid but he'd never seen him like this and he was feeling exceedingly underqualified.

Slowly, MK turned around to face him and for a moment they just stared at each other while Tang racked his brain on what to say to an upset looking seven year old.

Glancing at his paper on Chinese mythology and then back to MK he weakly offered, "Er... Ever heard of the Monkey King?"

----

Several hours later, Pigsy returned home to find him and MK sitting upstairs, empty food bowls surrounding them, while watching an age appropriate cartoon retelling of Journey to the West.

Tang paused the show as he saw Pigsy walk closer, and MK had looked ready to complain loudly before he realised who was back. With an excited shout he ran over to his father, wasting no time telling him everything he'd learned about the Monkey King in the time he'd been away.

Pigsy looked confused but nodded along anyway. Though he interrupted MK's embellished retelling of Monkey King's adventures to say, "Sounds like you've had a great time with Mr. Tang, huh? You can tell me all about it after I see him off, ok?"

Tang took the hint and started to pack up his things and as he made his way over. Pigsy picked up MK and prompted him, "What do we say to Mr. Tang?"

Obediently MK chimed out a "Thank you, Mr. Tang!"

Pigsy then gently tossed a happy MK on to the couch with a, "Good boy. I'll be back up in a minute."

Tang smiled and said his goodbyes as he followed Pigsy down the stairs and to the front door.

Pigsy looked exhausted but he at least seemed less stressed than he had earlier. His gratitude was clear though, "Thanks again, Tang. He behaved himself right?"

Tang nodded, "Oh yeah, he was totally fine. He was a bit upset after you left but he bounced back fast. How was your grandmother?"

Pigsy sighed, "She'll be alright but she's dislocated her hip so she's going to be out of action for a while. She'll be in the hospital for a few more days so that gives me time to get my room set up for her."

Tang hissed in sympathy at the injury but curious he asked, "Where will you sleep?"

Pigsy shrugged, "Guess I'll be on the couch for a while. Might have an old futon hidden away somewhere but I'll sort it out."

He supposed there was no way around it - she wouldn't be able to move on her own for a while and Pigsy wouldn't be able to work and take care of her if she wasn't here.

Still he felt bad at how busy Pigsy's foreseeable future was looking so he offered, "Well, if you need me to, I'm sure I could babysit MK again for a bit."

Pigsy laughed slightly, "Trying to earn yourself a lifetime's worth of free noodles?"

Tang grinned. He couldn't say the thought hadn't crossed his mind, "Well, if you're offering..."

Pigsy rolled his eyes but smiled at him, "I appreciate the offer and I might have to take you up on it sometime. But thanks again for today - sorry I've kept you here so late."

Tang waved him off, "We both know I've been here way later than this." He then paused a little concerned, "You're not going to open the restaurant again tonight, are you?"

Pigsy shook his head, "I had thought about it but I need to go tell the kid what's happened and I already know he's going to be pretty upset over it... Not to mention I'm exhausted. I think I'll survive missing one night."

Glad to hear it and not wanting to keep him from MK any longer, he said his goodbyes and started his walk back home.

He was surprised to find himself a little excited to come back and share more stories of the Monkey King to MK. He'd never met someone as enthusiastic as himself about the old legends.

It wouldn't take him, or Pigsy, long to realise he'd sparked a love that would last a lifetime.