#epic x candy

[star-sara]

• El miedo es lo que nos hace seres vivos •

• Aunque lo neguemos, es parte de nosotros cómo un sentimiento importante cómo el odio, amor, tristeza etc •

• Ser valiente y enfrentarlo, es la única manera en que te vas a deshacer de el •

• ... •

• No te dejes engañar, mucha azúcar no es saludable •

• Cómo una persona que aparenta ser dulce resulta ser muy amarga y con una personalidad tan agria... •

• A veces, simplemente debes ir por tu propia cuenta... •

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• ¡Kämpfer y Valentín! Delta x Swap Boy's

──・──・・✧ ・・──・──

Delta → Animated Zorox

Swap → Popcorna-pr1nce

──・──・・✧ ・・──・──

• Kämpfer •

🗡️ Edad: 18 años

🗡️ Personalidad: Es de carácter bondadoso, confiado, paciente, es aventurero y amistoso

🗡️ Gustos: Le gusta cocinar, hacer ejercicios, entrenar, tocar algunos instrumentos y combatir

🗡️ Disgustos: No le gusta los desastres y flojos, le molesta un poco ser ignorado y que no le agradezcan por su ayuda

🗡️ Sexualidad: Bisexual, pansexual y poliamoroso

•Datos adicionales•

🗡️ Le gusta pasar el tiempo con su madre (Swap) y con Swap!Chara también

🗡️ Se comporta muy sobreprotector con su hermano a veces, aunque sabe que él solo se puede cuidar

🗡️ No le agrada blueberry (ojo, swap y blueberry no son lo mismo, son muy diferentes)

🗡️ Le gustan los gatos aunque no mucho ya que es alérgico a ellos

🗡️ Sabe usar GB y huesos, aunque prefiere más usar su espada

• Valentín •

⚜️ Edad: 17 años

⚜️ Personalidad: valiente, confiable, bromista y un poco travieso, aunque suele ser callado algunas veces, serio

⚜️ Gustos: Le gusta el boxeo, contar chistes, cocinar, buscar algunas aventuras, los anfibios, reptiles, pasar el tiempo con su padre (Delta) y a veces molestar a su hermano

⚜️ Disgustos: No le agrada los infieles, bromas de mal gusto, que hablen mal de su familia a sus espaldas, No le gusta mucho que su hermano lo cuide tanto aunque sepa que solo es preocupación, prefiere cuidarse solo, la traición

⚜️ Sexualidad: Demisexual

•Datos adicionales•

⚜️ Suele entrenar con Swap!Alphys, algunas veces resulta herido y por eso trae vendas y también pasa tiempo con Swap!Undyne

⚜️ Suele combatir cuerpo a cuerpo, pero a veces usa su magia

⚜️ A veces suele molestar a su madre Swap junto a su tío Swap!Papyrus

⚜️ Le tiene cariño a Swap!Toriel, como una segunda madre

⚜️ Mejor amigo de Pólux

⚜️ Tiene un trauma a los perros

⚜️ Suele coleccionar películas antiguas

• ¡Lincy! Sugar x Candy girl

──・──・・✧ ・・──・──

Sugar → ask-sugar-skull-sans

Candy → BabyAbbieStar

──・──・・✧ ・・──・──

🧁 Edad: 20 años

🧁 Personalidad: es insegura, suele estar nerviosa mayormente aunque trate de ocultarlo, desconfiada pero siempre tiene cariño para demostrar a las personas que lo necesitan, generosa, reservada

🧁 Gustos: los caramelos aunque prefiere más los pasteles, jugar en la nieve, los colores verde y azul, lugares con tranquilidad, los peluches o visitar a su padre (sugar)

🧁 Disgustos: películas de terror, personas aprovechadas, consumo excesivo de alcohol, leche con chocolate y drogadictos

🧁 Sexualidad; lesbiana

•Datos adicionales•

🧁 Ella es producto de una borrachera que tuvieron sus padres, meses después de ese suceso candy tuvo a lincy y ambos estuvieron de acuerdo en que la cuidarían entre ambos pero ella viviría con candy

🧁 Ella y Zhàdàn son enemigos

🧁 Tiene algo de miopía, aunque no suele usar mucho sus lentes

🧁 Le tiene cariño a sus padres, aún sabiendo que solo fue producto de una borrachera

🧁 Sugar no es un padre muy cariñoso con ella al no ser planeada, pero a lincy le es suficiente con que él la haya cuidado

🧁 Constantemente busca sentirse segura o conforme consigo misma, aunque lo considere difícil de conseguir

🧁 Se lleva maso con negative (su padrastro), al igual que con algunos de sus medios hermanos

🧁 De magia aún no sabe usar mucha, solo ha podido invocar huesos pero nada más

• ¡Bitterness y Blackmail! Negative x Candy kiddos

──・──・・✧ ・・──・──

Negative → ValenSealover

Candy → BabyAbbieStar

──・──・・✧ ・・──・──

• Bitterness •

🌸 Edad: 16 años

🌸 Personalidad: agresiva, burlona, mentirosa, amenazante y engañosa, con poca empatía a los demás

🌸 Gustos: juegos de palabras, dulces agrios, molestar a su hermano y a su padre, meterse en peleas y provocar algunos problemas

🌸 Disgustos: que la delaten, los pájaros, perder, las cosas románticas y cursis, las ranas

🌸 Sexualidad: heterosexual

•Datos adicionales•

🌸 Cómo se dijo anteriormente, le gusta meterse en peleas y es algo frecuente por eso tiene varias benditas y quizás alguna venda debajo de la chaqueta

🌸 No le interesa nada si la situación no la beneficia a ella

🌸 Aunque le gusta molestar a su hermano, en realidad le teme ya que él ha intentado venderla, o hasta intentar matarla

🌸 Ella provocó la grieta en la cabeza de blackmail cuando se quiso defender

🌸 Siempre viendo el lado negativo

🌸 Prefiere estar con su padre

🌸 Puede invocar GB y huesos, pero prefiere atacar con navajas

🌸 Se odia a muerte con Cecil

• Blackmail •

🎭 Edad: 16 años

🎭 Personalidad; es coqueto pero desquiciado, agresivo, chantajista, manipulador, algo reservado y un poco bromista

🎭 Gustos: juegos de palabras, chocolate con leche, hacer trampa, robar o chantajear, la tortura psicológica

🎭 Disgustos: ¿?

🎭 Sexualidad: Pansexual

•Datos adicionales•

🎭 Doble cara

🎭 Tiene una apariencia dulce y que muestra inocencia, pero la verdad es un desgraciado

🎭 Odia a su hermana por que desde los 13 años en la escuela le hacían bullying pero ella jamás lo defendió, incluso ella se unía a los que lo molestaban y se burlaba de él y sus padres nunca le creyeron cuando se los dijo por esa razón le agarro un gran odio

Lo que blackmail no sabe es que Bitterness hacía eso para que no le hicieran lo mismo a ella pero nunca pensó que su hermano llegaría a odiarla tanto hasta el punto de querer matarla

🎭 Versátil

🎭 ¿Con un posible interés amoroso por Valentín?

🎭 Prefiere pasarla con su madre

• ¡Dell! Epic + Candy accidente combo

──・──・・✧ ・・──・──

Epic → yugogeer012

Candy → BabyAbbieStar 

──・──・・✧ ・・──・──

💙 Edad: 11 años

💙 Personalidad: es muy curioso, juguetón, amable y siempre sonriente

💙 Gustos: los juguetes, caramelos, los paseos, un poco los videojuegos y decorar

💙 Disgustos: ruidos muy fuertes o colores muy brillantes

💙 Sexualidad: ta chiquito no sabe aún de eso

•Datos adicionales•

💙 Nació por un experimento de epic en el que se mezclo por accidente su ADN junto al de Candy y de ahí nació este pequeño

💙 Epic fue quien se quedó con Dell (ya que si Candy lo llevaba con el negative pensaría que le fue infiel), pero es visitado por su madre con regularidad

💙 Es mudo

💙 Tiene los ojos tapados, sin embargo puede ver muy bien

💙 Tiene claustrofobia

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Bye bye mis pequeñas almas~❤️💐

[switchnx]

X Vs. Zero has always sounded to me like the type of song you’d hear at one of those Holiday musical light displays.

[eraenaa]

The Prince and the Poet

Aemond Targaryen x Lannister Reader Tag List

Synopsis: It is established that Prince Aemond hates poems and sonnets; it was just a pity that you adored them. 

Warnings: Mature, 18+, Mutual Masturbation, Aemond Writes a Poem, Childhood Friends, Hidden Attraction, Not Proofread

Word Count: 2,900

Inspired by my Original Fic on AO3, The Den of Dragons and Lions

Aemond scoffed and rolled his eye as he watched you completely enthralled by the sonneteer who performed before you. It had been un-endless hours he had to suffer as the court was subjected to watching poets read their works for the day’s entertainment. It was all too boring, all too frivolous, it was an utter waste of time. Aemond could not understand why you would willingly subject yourself to these men's trite and untrue words— whose delusions and desires were projected in their works. Aemond strongly believed that those who write poems and epics are weaklings and cowards. They do not have the courage to go on great adventures and woo their loves, so they can only imagine and write them down on parchment. And you were the sweet, naive fool who brought into their words—declaring their works beautiful and unparalleled. Blinded by flowery verses and empty promises. 

You sigh longingly in your seat as the sonneteer before you recited your favorite sonnet of them all. Your lips silently move unconsciously as you recite your most favored work with him. Aemond, who sat by your side, sneered at the sigh that left your pillowy lips and the enchanted look in your eyes. His gaze traveled the court; every young maiden swooned by the words and looks of the sonnet who stood in the middle, reciting the work that you clung on to. When his torment finally ended, Aemond rolled his eye once more as you quickly stood and clapped your hands, an ovation for the young man who had finished his performance. Aemond did no such thing, only staring down the sonneteer who bowed and savored the praises given. 

“I hope he shall return soon— and with new material!” You exclaimed to Helaena as you two walked the halls, arms linked together, Aemond trailing behind you. It was an old scene, your actions instilled since childhood. You practically grew up in the Red Keep with the princes and princess, a lion fostered by dragons. 

You hear Aemond’s third scoff of the afternoon, making you glance behind only to see the consistent look of annoyance on his face. “I would take it you did not enjoy?” You say and face onward, feeling Aemond fasten his steps and now walking beside you and Helaena. “It is an utter waste of time; why must we spend hours on this frivolity when pressing matters could be attended to?” You roll your eyes at the Prince’s complaint. 

“Aemond, your attendance was not required. If you believe poetry is a waste of time, I do not understand why you came there.” You say simply, pausing in your tracks. Helaena, a silent audience as you and Aemond began your ceaseless squabbles once more. Aemond was silent for a moment; the truth of his actions may not be revealed. “We did not force you to sit there and listen to Sir Liam— if anything, I’d prefer if you did not come; your glares and scoffs were seen and heard, and are very much unappreciated,” Aemond clenched his jaw as he had no response that he’d like to share. His eye traveled to his sister, who had a knowing smirk on her lips whilst you waited for his response that would not come.“I’ll see you both at supper,” Aemond grumbled as his eye landed on you, who bit back her smirk, the prince stomping away as you finally let your smile slip your lips. 

“Must you really tease him? You perfectly know why he sat through the readings,” Helaena said as you and she sat in the gardens for tea. You picking at the candied lemons that you and Aemond would usually fight over. You smile as you lick your finger clean of the sugary syrup. “Yes, I know why he suffered through the readings. However, he is not aware that I am knowledgeable of his intent,” Helaena sighed, “How long will you make him suffer?” The princess asked, already impatient for the day her closest friend and brother would finally admit their attractions. 

“Suffer?” You ask in shock, “I do no such thing! He inflicts his suffering himself—“ Helaena shook her head and laughed. “You’ve known of Aemond’s attraction to you for years! Yet you still act so clueless with him!” She reasoned. “I am a lady! I am expected to act chase and reserve. I cannot just go up to Aemond and confront him with his secret attraction!” You exclaimed with a fake and exaggerated look of scandal on your face, making Helaena laugh. 

“If you are waiting for my brother to acknowledge and confess his attraction towards you, then you must wait— it might take him a lifetime.” Helaena mused, a hint of frustration and pity in her voice, for Aemond had wanted you since childhood; he was just afraid to let it be known. “Then I pity him… he could have had the golden beauty of the realm, but he chose to stay silent.” You say confidently— proud with the title bestowed upon you by lords and ladies, small and noble folk men who agreed that your beauty was as valuable and desirable as the gold your family was known for. Helaena hummed quietly and quickly prayed to the gods that her brother would soon admit his attraction, for Helaena knew that your pride would not subject you to confess your feelings first. 

“Just because you do not understand or care for poetry does not mean they are a waste!” You exclaimed as Aemond picked another fight with you. You were peacefully seated in Helaena’s chambers, stroking your cat's fur mindlessly as Aemond’s own pet lay beside you. You were in no mood to fight with him and battle his views of poetry. “They are! They’re pointless. If you must say something, then say it— why must they dance around the matter? Why must they go on and on about something that could be said in one sentence? Cowards, the likes of them are!” You let out an exasperated sigh, making Aemond smirk at your annoyance. 

He finds you quite endearing at the state, which is why he often takes time out of his day just to annoy you. Relishing at the roll of your enchanting eyes, the sighs that leave your plump, pink lips, and the furrow between your perfectly arched brows. If he were lucky and had annoyed you to quite an extent, you’d stomp your foot like a spoiled child. Or simply wave him off with your pampered hand because you no longer had a word of defense. 

“Because they are poets! They do not wish to come to the answer and their intentions all at once— they create beauty with their words. They are capable of making subjects so dire be of great interest that they, in turn, create spectacles upon it!” You defended but Aemond only rolled his eye and shook his head, the former action he had gotten from you. Ever since you two were young, you would always roll your eyes when you found something disagreeable; Aemond would mock you for it— would mimic your actions in hopes of getting more from you. However, in time, he managed to adopt the same mannerisms. 

“Archmaester Sisco believed that poetry is of great danger,” he said, taking a goblet to his lips. Your eyes followed the way the ball on his throat booed as you waited for him to continue his thought.  “He says they mislead and are obscure and false— that poets are seducers of the mind,” He finished, noting the way your eyes were on his throat. Guessing you’d want to strangle him out of annoyance, Aemond was amused with the thought of you thinking about strangling him. 

“The Archmaester’s proclamation and thinking is old— irrelevant in our times. Even his student, Archmaester Aristedes, disagrees with his views on poetry. He reasons that it is not harmful— it is a form of expression! Cathartic to those who read and write it!”Aemond let another scoff of derision slip his lips, pushing your annoyance into frustrated anger. 

“You would not understand the beauty of poetry because you keep everything you feel inside you! You do not know what great relief it is to say or even write what you desire and hope for!” You exclaimed, and Aemond tensed in his seat. Silence surrounded the room as Aemond could not work out a response. You saw him fisting the arm of his chair, the knuckles of slender fingers turning pink from his tight grip. 

You sighed heavily, “What I meant is… I understand that you do not like poetry and find it pointless and a waste— but I don’t. I am not forcing poetry onto you, nor am I trying to change your views upon it. I enjoy and adore poetry— I just wish you would stop discouraging me from enjoying it. 

“Why do you enjoy it?” Aemond asked after a short while. You try to hide your surprise at his question. “Because… I find it romantic. For someone to take time to depict you with such beautiful imagery and flattering words, to love and admire you enough to dedicate a work of literature to your name… for me, it is the best way to express to someone how much you truly love them.” You could not look at Aemond as you said the words. In truth, a part of you felt silly because your love for poetry was only solidified because you loved a boy who you knew would not subject himself to create such works. When you read your favorite epics and songs, you would humor yourself and imagine it was Aemond who wrote it for you, knowing he would never do such a thing. 

Days passed since your and Aemond’s interaction and you noticed that you had scarcely seen his presence. You would pass by him whilst in training and join him and his kin for supper— but other than that, you could not feel a trace of his presence. He would usually join you and Helaena for tea or would suddenly appear by your side as you walked along the keep. He didn’t even pick fights or tease you anymore. Him growing more silent and reserved. Now you regret speaking— wishing you had just held your tongue and let him continue to disparage the sacred thoughts of poems and songs. 

It was high night, and you sat silently in your chambers, staring at the fire, trying to find ways to approach Aemond. Already missing his teasing presence— the only presence you would muster the patience to endure. 

You furrowed your brows as you heard shuffling at your door. Your eyes catch the shadow of a figure outside. You cautiously and quietly stood, going to your door only to see a piece of parchment being slipped at the slit of the wooden door. Your confession only grew. You quickly took the parchment and opened the door, revealing its sender. Three eyes went wide as you were met with Aemond, who blended in the dark. However, his silver hair shined in the light of the moon. “What are you doing?” You ask and turn to the parchment he had slipped. 

“Nothing— I… this—“ Aemond fumbled for words; you had never seen him in such a state. He was usually composed and stoic. You thought seeing him bashful and embarrassed was a nice gift from the gods. “What is this?” You ask and unfold the parchment. “No! Don’t—“ Aemond bit his tongue as it was too late to hinder you. Your eyes already consuming what was written. 

I’ve known you for half of my life yet; you consume the whole of it I’ve had you near and close to me yet, I only gaze from afar

I do not know how to proclaim I’m not certain how to say it without blame, but you, my beauty, are the cause of my desire and, most of the time, my ire

I know I pick countless squabbles, but I do it because I love to hear you babble about things I have no care for but you just simply adore

We disagree for many reasons, but I’d rather fight you through the seasons You, my beauty, so lovely and carefree my heart could not help but love you, most ardently 

Aemond watched you bite your lip as a wide smile started to spread. Aemond felt heat all over his body— anticipation did not sit well with him. He was ready to meet your laughs at his attempt to make you a poem. Ready to face rejection, but instead of the pessimistic thoughts in his mind, he was met with your sweet, pillowy lips. You were so excited and thrilled that you could not help but kiss him. Show him how you adored him as well. 

What was supposed to be a short and chaste kiss turned deep with passion. Lips dancing and refusing to part. You and Aemond stumbled to your bed, uncaring and ignorant of the teachings of the gods, for you and him had long surpassed your desires, and they could no longer be denied. They were ready to claim without thought of consequences because both of you knew that you’d happily take all punishment that would be presented if it meant neither of you had to stop your actions. 

“Gods, I want you,” You uttered as his lips traveled to kiss your soft cheeks, then trailed downward to the side of your neck. His hands were on your waist and threading dangerously close to your bosom. “Say it again,” Aemond almost begged. Savoring your scent, delighting at the way you feel against him. “I want you, Aemond. I’ve wanted you for years— you, only you.” You sighed as he left marks on your necks, earning quiet moans from you at the new sensation.  

Aemond let a low moan rumble as his cock painfully strained against his trousers, throbbing at your admittance of want for him. It was all he wanted. He thought his deepest desire in life was to have a dragon, but that was wrong. He desired you more than claiming a dragon— his deepest desire was to claim a lioness.

Aemond tangled his hair in your hair, finally letting his other hand move from your waist and cup your breast. Your hand, in turn, went to palm him through his trousers, watching as his jaw clenched and the ball of throat bobbed once more. “We… we must not lay until we are married,” Aemond said, voice pained and filled with impatience. Yet, he still did not move atop you; he kept his hold, but you relinquished yours. “We don’t have to,” You said, trying to push away your need for him to touch you. Aemond sighed and hurried his face in your neck, his lips and breath tickling your skin. “Then how…” Aemond trailed, and a thought passed your mind. “We must not touch each other….yet. However, I do not recall teaching forbidding us to touch ourselves,” You whisper, Aemond’s lilac eye flying to you, dark and filled with lust, mirroring yours. 

Aemond moved to remove his weight from you. You keep your eyes locked as you back away to the back of your bed, resting yourself on the pillows as Aemond kneels by the edge of your feathered bed, watching each move you make with his glazed, lone eye. 

You bit your lip harshly as your hand threaded a path that it threaded plenty of times, the thought you had as you did the actions now watching you. You slipped your hands, and you resisted moaning as your fingers brushed over the pearl of your cunt. Aemond admired the way your breasts peaked and traced through your silk nightgown. The way your eyes were hooded and how your plump lips finally parted and moaned his name. 

Aemond could no longer resist. Slipping his hand into his trousers just like he did every night, the image of you no longer in his mind but now sitting before him, calling out his name.“A-Aemond,” You stuttered as you felt the familiar cold within you. How desperately you wanted it to be, him to make you feel such a way. Aemond groaned and tilted his head to the heavens as he felt his cock twitch; he was quick to reach his peak; just the way you called for his name was enough for him to spill so quickly. 

Aemond closed the space between the two of you, each of your hands still pleasuring yourselves while lips met and wanted to be together when both of you reached your peaks. “You will be mine soon, my heart… mine to pleasure and please, all mine,” Aemond swore against your lips. You nod your head as you fasten your pace. “I’ve always been yours, Aemond.” You said truthfully, the final push for Aemond to come undone; you quickly followed as his moans spurred your peak. Aemond kissed your lips once more and boldly prayed for patience, patience, and restraint to not take you that night.

It was not enough for Aemond; pleasuring himself as he watched you pleasure yourself was not enough, but it had to be for now. Because when morning comes, he’ll demand that you shall be his, just as it ought to be.

If you enjoyed the premise of this story, you might like the inspiration for it!

[morallyinept]

Sleazy Santa - A Dieter Bravo One Shot

Summary: Have you been naughty or nice? Sleazy Santa Dieter will find out... Come sit on his knee, baby, and tell Santa what you really want for Christmas. If you've been good, he might just give it to you. T'is the season to be sleazy...

Pairing: Sleazy!Dieter Bravo x MenaceF!Reader (No name or physical description of reader. It’s you, bub.) Reader is referred to as 'Cookie' on occasion. You'll see why when you read... and has hair long enough to pull.

Word Count: 5.3k of Christmas sleaze

Scoville Smut Rating:🌶️🌶️🌶️ “You tell me I’m doing well, and then, you try to kill me.”

Check out my Scoville Smut Ratings here.

Explicit - Unprotected PIV (wrap up, folks!)/fingering/oral M & F receiving/drug use/anal play/lots of smutty dirty talk/verbal degradation - Dieter calls you a whore & slut and you love it/(im)proper use of a candy cane/Dieter being absolutely lewd and trashy whilst being a mall Santa. Reader is up for this and wants it all. Dieter is not an actor in this story. Just a dirtbag.

NSFW. MINORS DNI! OVER 18’s ONLY. YOU ARE SOLELY RESPONSIBLE FOR WHAT YOU READ. ☝🏻Don’t come at me; you’ve been plenty warned.

Author’s Note: (I intended to get this out on the 1st Dec, but this week has completely run away from me, so better late than never! 🫠) I just know Dieter would be the trashiest Santa. So here he is. Ho(e). Ho(e). Ho(e). 🎅🫦

☝🏻This is not a direct follow on from Back Alley Bang, but is the same Sleazy!Dieter.

Read Back Alley Bang!

I wrote this a little while back in prep for my Christmas stories to release throughout December. Since then, the lovely @cerridwen007 dropped a Frankie fic called Candy Cane, which you should totally read because it's bloody amazing! And hot! 🔥 Seeing as both our stories mention some lewdness with Candy Canes, I want to shout about hers, because it's epic. And so is she. 🥰🖤

If this story isn't for you, that's fine. Just slip quietly out the back door. No need to make a fuss. It's just a work of fiction.

🎄MASTERLIST🎄

Enjoy! 🖤

“Come sit on Santa’s knee, baby.” He smirks at you under the grizzle of greying, scruffy facial hair, sprawled across his jawline like a patch of overgrown weeds in a neglected alley.

Each bristle of his moustache seems like a picket in a fence, guarding the secrets of his expressions, a formidable barrier to anyone attempting to decipher the stoic visage he wears, despite the adept grin crook shanking it's way out from underneath it at you now.

You joust a sharp glance at him, sitting back lazily on the throne, manspreading and reaching down to adjust the swell of his cock inside his red velour pants, brazenly.

In a worn-out wife beater, that's seen one too many spin wash cycles, tinged grey with sweat around the hem and underarms, braces dangle loosely over Santa’s broad shoulders, contributing to a somewhat dis-reputational vibe.

Boots, covered in dirt and scuffs, complete the unkempt look, and a lingering rolled cigarette, possibly a joint by the herbal stench emanating from it and how tightly it’s tobacco stuffing is packed into the thin papers, add a touch of nonchalance to the unconventional ensemble.

The once jolly twinkle in his tired and bloodshot eyes he had for the children and parents queuing up all day to meet him excitedly, now carries a mischievous, darkening glint polluting the soft browns into a deep onyx as he regards you.

You can feel the heat, running moist and sticky across your body in all those fleshy crevices, as his eyes traverse all the curves and shapes of you gluttonously and leaving you stained.

It feels as if he devours you with his gaze, eyes chomping through your bones; each hungry look a bite into the forbidden fruit of your supple skin, leaving you with a sense of exposure that’s both invasive and titillating.

You feel it pulse on the end of your clit and bite back a wayward groan as you squeeze your thighs together.

You pull off your elf's hat, ruffling your hair out of your tight pony that’s been threatening to scalp you all day, and smirk at him suggestively. 

He leers back, through full lips chapped pink, under that greasy moustache hidden behind a fake silvery beard all day. A sly grin twists those pert smackers up as he looks you up and down in your cute fuzzy elf ensemble, complete with annoying bells that jingle when you walk.

A crude name tag is pinned to your lapel, flecked with glitter that says Cookie. And you can't help but wonder at how he'll make you crumble.

The Grotto’s decor transports visitors to a whimsical realm where the spirit of Christmas thrives in a rammed-down-your-throat abundance. Faux snow covered branches, adorned with twinkling lights that frame the entrance, complete with fibreglass reindeer with beady eyes, creates an archway that beckons families into the enchanting space within the hustle and bustle of the shopping mall. 

Inside the main cabin, the walls are adorned with festive murals depicting scenes of Santa's workshop; his cheerful elves, and his sleigh chock full of presents for all the good boys and girls.

Glittering ornaments in hues of red, green and gold hang from the ceiling, casting a warm and festive glow as they twirl and sway. Garlands of pine branches intertwine with fairy lights, adorned and wrapped around every available surface, filling the air with the invigorating scent of Christmas pine to the point you want to choke.

Eager youngsters, with their big awe-struck eyes, gravitate around your knees all day and hearing Let It Snow play on repeat is starting to grate on your last nerve by lunch time.

A two bit job in a shopping mall Grotto for the season to help pay the rent on your shitty apartment, isn’t exactly the high point of your mundane life, but being assigned as Santa’s personal elf in the Grotto this year seems to have an unexpected appeal. 

Especially when under the hat and beard Santa is a fucking grimy feast for the eyes, in all of his sordid, dirty appeal. 

“Oh, he’s kinda hot.” You whisper to the other elves, Sugarplum and Cinnamon, when you overhear them talking about him. “In a scummy sorta way.”

You watch as he chortles and pushes crudely taped gifts with lopsided bows into tiny, waiting hands. 

“I saw him out of the suit having a smoke round back. He looks like he spends all day injecting.” Cinnamon the elf remarks, wrinkling her nose. 

Sugarplum snorts distastefully in agreement as she pushes another child through to meet the magic man himself. And you can’t help but grin.  

Who is this guy? 

He stands out like a sore thumb in the mall full of Christmas card perfect families, with two point four bratty children, not the type to be cast in the role of Santa. He looks like he shouldn’t be anywhere near the vicinity of children at all. 

He’s an obvious stain on the holly-jolly, a blot; a malignant smear with his dark appearance and equally dark aura that radiates and flashes in neon green above his head like a Sims character, that he’s a bad, rotten egg. 

And yet, there’s something about him that piques you and your pussy’s interest as you can’t look away. 

You wonder where they hired him, possibly off the street by the way he looks; hair a fluffy mess as he runs a giant paw through it when he takes off the Santa hat for a reprieve. Slick with sweat around the neck and ears after being swamped in the furry suit all day.

But amidst the cheerful chatter and the jingling of bells, you and Santa start to engage in risqué repartee through exchanging heated glances, hidden within the joyful chaos that swarms around you both.

He watches as you bend to greet the children, deliberately pointing your ass, clad in tight, striped hosiery, in his line of sight, and throwing him a steely glance over your shoulder as you smile innocently around your glittery lipstick. 

You suck on candy canes to rile him up as he waits for the next toddler to enter the Grotto, and tease him with how far you can get it down your throat. 

You can see the effect it has on him all day as he has to adjust to himself constantly and refuse that any more kids sit on his lap, opting to just talk to them on their level instead.

Your eyes often fall onto that heavy bulge between his legs as you lick up the red striped cane suggestively. 

You, the teasing little elf, pretend to inspect a list of wishes, shooting Santa a sultry look. "I must say, Santa, you're on everyone's 'Nice' list, but I can't help but wonder what it would take to get you on the 'Naughty' list for a change…"

And he takes that as a direct challenge. 

After the Grotto is closed to the public for the day, you see him head into it and follow, lured like he’s dropping gingerbread crumbs for you to snort up.

Lights are out in the Winter Wonderland area; a few amblers doing their late night Christmas shopping still linger around the mall, but no-one would obviously know you're heading in as your toes jingle with your quick steps in the shadows. 

And it’s where you find him now, sitting back in Santa’s grand throne, legs akimbo and waiting for you as he tokes; running his thick mitts around the chintzy scruff of his real beard.

His eyes crinkle with mirth as you shut the Grotto door behind you. You reach into the basket of candy canes and he watches as you unwrap one, sucking on the stripey end of it as you step up towards him, when he pats his thick thigh again at you. 

Perching on him, dwelling inside the mist of hazy smoke that lingers above your heads and makes you feel lighter as you breathe it down into your lungs, you flutter your eyelashes as you take him in. 

Thick arms, speckled with tattoos of triads that look coloured in with a Sharpie, speak of a past etched with both labour and skirmishes. His hands, large and calloused, possess a certain coarseness, evidence of a wayward journey through life's grittier back alleys with short, chewed on nails. With shoulders that may slump a touch, he carries an weight of shady roughness on them; his belly and thighs telling stories of indulgence, and perhaps a few late night brawls.

Thick fingers are stacked with silver rings that are covered with Santa’s cotton gloves throughout the day. His hawkish nose adds a touch of defiance, completing the image of a man with a scuffed exterior, rough around the edges, yet somewhat intriguing in his lived-in authenticity. An unpolished diamond in some scummy rough. 

But who needs a diamond, when a zirconia is just as good, right? 

In the twinkly lights, the grazed hair on his face appears not as distinguished silver, but rather a mishmash of unkempt greys woven in, like shadows playing on a weathered canvas or someone forgetting to water their garden in patches.

His cocoa bean eyes, though sharp, carry a glimmer of adept slyness, a snake waiting to strike and latch it's fangs to your calf, as if they've witnessed more than their fair share of venomous dealings. 

The pierced ear, with its slightly tarnished hoop you're longing to suck into your mouth, feels less like a statement and more like a relic of some practised rebellion; a declaration of nonconformity, a middle finger raised to polished appearances.

And it's here where your eyes settle, on his fingers as he brings the joint up to his lips to inhale again, and you marvel at their thickness, their startling turgidity, clenching internally.

He inhales on the end of the blunt, smoke billowing around his face in misty, gossamer trails that beckon you further into him, and his eyes, dark and beguiling with blown pupils, are still on yours.

“Have you been a good girl this year?” There’s a coarse texture to his speech, a visceral quality that mirrors the scuffed exterior of a life lived on the fringes.

He’s watching your lips around the candy cane as though hypnotised by the talent of it. You pull it out of your mouth, sticky - the red bleeding into the white - and smile sweetly.

“I’m always a good girl,” you remark with a minty grin. 

Santa shakes his head. “I hear differently. I hear you’re a very naughty girl.” 

You mock pout as he leans forward and sucks the end of the candy cane you’re holding into his own mouth. He smacks his lips around one another after tasting it and hums out. “Filthy,” he adds. 

“Dirty.” You confirm with a singular nod. 

“I like ‘em dirty.” He agrees, looking up at you, chin jutted out in a provocative challenge. 

You stroke under it, scritching your nails in the softly coarse hairs there.

He flicks your name tag and smirks. “Cute.”

“What’s your name?” You ask curiously. 

“Dieter,” he exhales again, and you can taste the smoke settling on your tongue. “But you can call me Santa, baby.”

You nod willingly. 

“Santa wants to touch you, Cookie. You gonna let him?” He queries.

You nod again, smiling. 

“Say it, baby. Say you want Santa to touch you.”

“Touch me, Santa.” You simmer. Your body tenses waiting for his hands - those giant, fucking hands - to get acquainted with you.

He finishes the joint, before squeezing the end to extinguish it, and plops it on the floor. “You gonna let Santa fuck you too?”

“Yeah," you nod again like you can't stop. "I want Santa to fuck me with his big, hard cock.” You reach down and give it a squeeze over the velour Santa pants, and he hisses. “Mmm, so big.” You say, sucking on the cane again, hooking your finger around the curved end of it.

“Fuck, baby. You want it bad don’t you? Slutty little elf…” He states.

Dieter runs his hand up your thigh, your stomach and stops at your breast giving it a good squeeze over your outfit; a grunt of approval rippling low in the back trench of his throat and he massages and gropes.

Clawing his fingers of his other hand over your thigh and grabbing at the pliable skin of your ass cheek, he squeezes a generous handful of it, pulling and smirking at you. 

“Lemme get a look at these tits, fuck.” Dieter says, immediately running his tongue over them as you pull off your elf top. He yanks down your bralette, tearing at the flimsy material making you gasp around the candy cane. 

Mouthing and licking around your nipples, flicking them with his hot, wet tongue, you moan and trail your fingers through his greased up hair. And Santa can’t help himself but to motorboat them, making you giggle as you squirm in his lap. 

“Fuck, look at these,” He says groping them in his giant hands. He brings them together moaning and groaning as he licks and sucks them some more. Running his scruffy jaw over them, greedily like all his Christmases have come at once. He bites down on one and you hiss, feeling it fizz between your legs. 

“How ‘bout a little kiss for Santa, hmm?” He croons at you, craning his face into yours. "Mmm, my lil' sugar cookie..."

You lean in, slipping your cool, sweetly sticky tongue inside his mouth as he kisses you. He strokes over your breasts, squeezing more and groaning as you suck on his tongue. 

He tastes of weed, and something else strong and tart laced around his teeth. But you devour him, feeling that long tongue search around your mouth tasting you, and filling you with his muffled grunts.

“You know, Santa can fill your stocking with whatever you want, right?” Dieter smirks at you as he runs his fingers up down the striped nylons.

You grin, as you pop the candy cane back in your mouth.

With both hands, he tears open your pantyhose from your apex, and smirks at the damp patch there between your legs. You can feel it, all wet and sticky between your thighs. 

You’ve made a mess of yourself all day watching and lusting after him, and now he can see it and knows exactly what he does to you. Knows how you've been craving that filthy dirtbag - who looks like he rolled out of the gutter - they hired to play dress up for the kids.

God, you wanna ride him so fucking hard. 

“You been this wet for me all day?”

You nod. “Drenched.” You tease. 

“Fuck…” he husks approvingly. 

“You make me so wet, Santa.” You say, still innocently sucking on that darned candy cane.

His fingers swipe over the front of your panties, feeling it and pushing the damply soiled material against the folds of your swollen pussy lips. 

He groans as he feels that warm slick seep through onto his fingertips. He brings them up to his nose and sniffs before putting them in his mouth and sucks them, looking at you the whole time as you flare.

Then, he runs them all over your seam again, pressing in and applying pressure to the protruding, swollen bump of your clit. Those grubby, filthy hands pawing greedily all over you, just as you wanted.

“Mmm,” you whine as he strokes and circles over your clit that’s buzzing and pulling tight. A tinge of an ache that makes your thighs tense in the most delicious of ways as he strokes over it, lewdly.

“Santa’s little slut, aren’t you?”

You nod, smirking.

He takes the candy cane from you, and slots it in his own mouth, sucking on it as he inspects between your legs like a letch. You hear it clack against his teeth as it rolls from side to side across his mouth. 

Sucking on it, the stripy tip turned fully white now, he runs it in your folds, and you gasp at the coolness of the mint.

He dips it in, sliding the candy cane into your hole and pulls it out, sucking it back into his mouth, tasting you around the peppermint treat. 

"Mmm, you taste so good." He praises.

He does it again, fucking you slowly with the candy cane and watching as you bite your lip as he slides it in as deep as it’ll go, before holding the sticky treat out for you to taste.

You eye him as you suck it clean of your slick, your tongue lapping down the length of it, and he groans.

“So fucking nasty,” he says with a glint in his eye.

You crunch on the end of it, breaking off a chunk into your mouth as you chew and he discards the rest onto the floor, breaking into pieces that scatter upon impact. 

“Let me get another look at that pussy.” He wrenches your panties aside again, and spits on his fingers, rubbing them over your dripping cunt. 

“That feel good?” He slides up and down your folds, teasing your clit with slimy circles of your slick and tapping it. 

“Yeah. I want those dirty fingers in me.” You whine. 

“All the way in?”

“Yeah.”

“Let’s get those panties off. Santa wants you spread open on his lap, baby.”

You lift your ass up as he tugs them down and you watch as he stuffs them into his pocket with a cockamamie smirk. You can only imagine all the sordid things he'll do with them later.

“Oh my God…” You gasp as he slides in two thick fingers, thumb running over your clit. 

“You like being a dirty little slut for Santa, don’t you?”

“Mmhmm,” you nod.

“Look at you, spread wide with my fingers in your cunt.” He looks down at the wet patch on his pants where you cream for him. 

“I love it.” You nod. "I love being your slut, Santa."

“Yeah you do. Kiss me again, baby. Gimme that tongue.”

He sucks on your tongue before he pushes in a third finger, and you moan at how full you feel. He pumps them in and out of you, garnering a tempo that leaves flames licking down your spine as you writhe against them. 

“Such a tight little cunt,” he whispers, pulling on your bottom lip and sucking it. 

“Mmm, yeah… that feels so good.” You mewl.

You can hear your slick squelching around his fingers and leaving them shiny as he pulls them out. You watch as he separates them, leaving strings to break before he sucks them in his mouth. 

“Santa’s got a gift for you in his sack, baby.” He reaches down into a bag, just as dirty and grimy as he is, and pulls out a battery powered wand with a bulbous head. 

You’re stunned as you giggle, and he raises his eyebrows. 

“You carry that around with you all the time?” You say, bewildered. 

A filthy grin lances across his face, the type that could impregnate women. And looking at him, he probably has. A harem of single mothers waiting on alimony cheques that’ll never come.

He clicks the wand on and pushes it to your cunt. 

“Oh fuck!” You drool as you feel it pulsing deliciously against your clit immediately. He sucks your nipple back into his mouth, whining at the taste of your skin. 

The vibrations, like soft, tingly ripples, spread from the device and explore every facet of your nerve endings. Tiny electrical pinpricks; a bubbling conduit of glittery bursts that intensify the more pressure he applies against you.

"That feel good?" You hear him graze at you.

“Mmm, I feel like I could come right now.” You sigh, gripping onto his broad, tan shoulder and enjoying being so close falling off the ledge already.

“This little toy gonna make you come, baby? Make you come for Santa?” You watch as he tongues your nipple, flicking it back and forth fast.

“Yeah. I’m almost there.” You shudder. "Mmm, fuck." You grab a hold of his hand, pushing the wand tighter against you. You can feel it pulsing in the centre, a deep winding sensation behind your abdomen; bunching and tightening. 

He clicks it up a notch, the vibrating head faster and louder against your clit. 

“Oh fuck. Yes, yes, yes!” Nails digging into the back of his hand as you grind against the wand head.

“Yeah. Come for me, baby. I wanna see Cookie come for Santa like a good slut.”

“Feels so nice like that… fuck!” You say your eyes rolling back, jaw tight and teeth clenching as you shudder and burst. Eyebrows furrowing and biting down on your lip as you come around the wand’s head. “So good, Santa… fuck, so, so good,” you pant. 

His eyes flash with wild encouragement, yet they contain a sense of addictive danger as he kisses across your breasts that taste salty with sweat and glittery fragments that stick to you as you shake.

“Such a good little elf, coming for Santa aren’t you, baby?”

He glances at you as he suckles and kisses your nipple, and pulls your face towards his for a swamping kiss that tastes acidic and makes you dizzy with it all. 

You reach down and squeeze his cock as he tosses the wand onto his bag. Stroking him over the red velour pants. He has an oily smirk; slick and fast, matching the tempo of how quickly he gets his cock out for you. Thick, veiny and pink, with a nice fat head, oozing just for you. 

“Is this all for me, Santa?” You marvel at the lack of boxers or briefs under the pants.

“Yeah.”

“You’ve got such a big cock. Mmm, that’s gonna feel so good in my tight pussy.”

“Gonna stretch you out, baby.” He takes your hand and wraps it around him, pumping.

“Fill me up.”

“Yeah, Gonna fill this slutty pussy up till you're dripping me down your thighs.” 

Your eyes are drawn to the ominous swell of his cock in your hand, astounding in its size and girth with a puff of grizzly dark hairs at the base of it. You’re trying to understand the science of how the fuck he’ll fit inside of you.

“I feel so fucking good, Cookie. So hard.” He whispers with a beguiling whip around his gritty cadence.

“Mmm,” you say, mesmerised by jerking him off. Watching as he drips for you and smearing it around his head with your thumb. 

“You wanna feel it? Feel it in your pussy, baby?”

Biting your lip you nod and grin. “Yeah.”

In a flash, he sits you on the throne, your legs hanging over the arm rests and spread wide for him.

"Fuck, look at you," he sighs at how spread and soaked you are for him.

Dieter jerks his cock as he runs his tongue up and down your slit, sucking on your clit hungrily. He swirls his tongue round and round, speedily as it flicks across your clit and makes your thighs twitch. 

“God, you taste so fucking good.” He groans.

“Like candy canes.” You giggle.

“Yeah. So sweet.”

You yank his head forward, clutching at the roots of his greying curls. His nose snuffles against the top of your mound as you feel him penetrate your hole with his tongue. 

“Fuck!” You drone as he fucks you with it.

He licks down and then runs back up again, this time gliding his nose in your folds too. Slick gathers on the end of it, shiny as it passes over your clit. 

“God, I wanna fuck this tight, little pussy.” He growls, wiping your juice from his nose and licking it away from his palm. 

Dieter pulls off the pants fully, then stands, crouching with legs spread; thick thighs supporting him as he lines himself up with your slit.

You can see the swell of his belly where the wife beater rides up and you reach forward to stroke it, feeling the galaxy of soft hairs that lead in a trail down to his cock.

You wince as he pushes in, fisting onto the hem of the vest. 

“What, huh? Too big? You can take this big cock. Come on, baby.” He looks down to see he’s halfway in; your cunt sucking him in as he traverses the fleshy, wet walls crushing around him. “Fuck, you’re so tight.”

“Mmm, God!” You groan, reaching for him as he pushes in all the way, deep into the hilt of you and there he stays for a moment, unmoving, just feeling you pulse and contract around him. 

He wiggles his hips and watches you breathlessly gasp. 

“Fuck me,” you plead. 

He pulls out and then slides deep again, over and over until he works up a tempo that has you panting; clawing at his arms and soaking around him. 

You sit up on the edge of the throne, legs wrapped around his lower calves as he slows into a more laboured pace. Sliding his cock in as deep as he can get it into you. He nips at your neck, running his tongue over the skin and sucking it between his teeth, marking you with purple welts.  

It’s a deep, somewhat brutal fucking, as he flexes his hips and pounds into you with determination. Taking your breath away as the jolts of your body stop you sucking more oxygen in. 

You hold onto the arm rests to steady yourself as he fucks into you. His own breath getting lodged in the back of his throat. 

You look up at him, jaw slack and eyes glazed over in ecstasy as his thighs slap relentlessly against your ass cheeks. His face his taught, veins bulging around his neck and eyes focused on you. Lined forehead coated with a sheen of sweat and you want to taste on your tongue. 

“You like this don’t you, getting fucked by Santa?” He queries with a dark smirk. 

“Aah fuck! Yeah, give it to me!” You wail. 

You can feel the weight of his balls pendulum against your ass as he thrusts relentlessly. 

"Santa fucking his little whore." He puffs.

"Fuck yeah!" You cry.

“Get up baby,” he instructs, wincing as he stands upright and clutching his lower back. 

He sits on the throne and pulls you onto him, but facing away. You hoist yourself up, feet flat on the seat either side of his thighs and lower yourself, squatting onto his cock standing tall and thick beneath you. 

“Oh, that’s it. Sit on Santa’s fucking lap, baby!” He gushes, pulling you all the way down until your cunt is flush with the base of him. 

“Oh shit, Dieter!” You cry as you feel him plunge deeper than he's already been. It forces the breath out of your lungs as you sharply inhale. "Shit, shit!"

"Call me Santa, baby." He teases.

His hands hold onto your waist; thick fingers curling around towards your belly button as you move up and down, using the arm rests to push yourself upwards. 

“Fuck, you’re so deep.” You groan as you work faster with the aid of him pushing your hips. 

“Yeah, fuck my cock, baby.” He grunts from behind you. 

You reach forward and stroke his swollen balls, groping and squeezing gently as he groans in delight. You run your hand across the both of you; feeling him plunge into your pussy, moving up to your clit as he fills you. 

“Yeah, yeah, baby. Oh fuck yeah!” He’s groaning behind you, hissing and puffing. The throne creaks and rocks under you both. 

The burning in your thighs stops you momentarily, and you step down off the throne and ride him harder, leaning forward on his thighs. 

He’s watching, hands on your ass cheeks, splaying you apart so he can see his cock delve deeper into your pussy, shiny and drenched with your slick. 

He sucks his thumb and notches it against your tight, puckered hole. You squeal in delight as he breaks through and hooks it into your ass.

“So fucking dirty baby.” He praises as you tighten around his cock. “Wish we had that candy cane now so I can put it in your ass.” 

“Oh my God…” You sigh deliciously at the seedy thought.

“You gonna come? Come with my thumb in your ass like the dirty slut you are?” 

“Mmm, yeah!” You coo. 

“Fuck yeah!” He hollers as you start to shudder and ripple around him. 

Your voice wanes, becoming nothing but a husked whisper scraping against the back crevices of your throat. But the most fascinating thing of all to him, is the way your body shakes uncontrollably on the end of his cock as he strokes the inside of your ass. 

The dreamy, heady feeling crawls over you like smoke in the dimly lit corridors of the back of the mall, choking you up. The colours of Christmas in the Grotto take on a seedy glamour, as if you're witnessing the world through the tinted lens of a noir film.

It's a sensory whirlwind, where every touch, taste, and sound carries a palpable sharpened edge, laced with a hint of danger that adds to the thrill of the fuck between you both.

His cock bottoms out in you constantly, filling you full of him and you can’t get enough. Panting and whining for more.

The knotting and binding cinches tighter and you start to fall, not into a soft cloud; it's a smokescreen of desire and kinky vice. It's the kind of state where the boundary between illusion and reality blurs, and you find yourself entangled in the gritty allure of forbidden pleasures.

Fucking Santa in a children's Grotto, and you giggle at the absurd, yet vividly decadent rapture, as your orgasm takes you and turns you out. 

“Yeah come all over my cock,” Dieter cajoles as you whine and screech, riding yourself through it until you buck and shake, unable to keep yourself up right on legs that feel like mush.  

Dieter bends you over the throne this time, kneeling on the plush seat as you cling to the back of it whilst he stands behind you, pummelling into you and seeking his own finish.

“You like taking Santa’s big cock like this?” His voice pelts the back of your neck; hair bunched and knotted around his fist.

“Yeah!” You cry out, literally clawing at the gold paint finishing. You’ll find it under your nails later. “Harder.” You whine. 

“Oh, you want it so hard, you greedy cock slut.” Wheezing like he’ll need an oxygen machine for the rest of his life, Dieter speeds up.

Obscene slapping of sweaty skin-on-skin fills the Grotto. If security were to trundle on by, there’s no mistaking you'd both be caught and the thought makes you flare. 

“Spank me, Santa!” You urge over your shoulder. 

“You want me to spank you?”

“I’ve been a very bad elf…” You pout coyly. 

“So fucking bad, baby.” He slaps across your ass, the sting making you moan out as it traverses your body.

“Mmm, yeah! More!”

“More?” He does it again, harder and it leaves a mark where you can feel the burn. 

Another slap has you screaming as you push back on his cock, meeting his every thrust. 

The sweat sheen on your back shines at him and he leans over you running his tongue up your spine to taste it. The action pushes him deeper and you both cry out in unison.

He works his hips, shunting back and forth in small, quick bursts as he fucks that tight, pretty hole and makes you mewl and gasp. 

A savage rhapsody of his unrelenting stamina that pummels you continually; all you can do is take it, whining and groaning and seeing the phosphenes glitter around your vision as he builds you up again.

It’s soaking between your legs, immensely sticky and you can feel it dripping between your thighs. You reach under yourself and stroke your clit that feels like it might explode with the simplest nudge.

It feels so good, too good, and you’re coming again, legs shaking and your back feeling like it might break in half, as he twists and pistons into you with all that he’s got.

“Where’d you want Santa to finish, baby?” He grunts desperately. 

“In my mouth.”

“Oh fuck!”

“Watch me swallow it all down, Santa.”

“Jesus fucking Christ!”

He pulls out and jerks his cock a few times before coating your waiting tongue with warm, thick spurts of him. 

“Take Santa’s load,” he groans. “Yeah, lick the tip clean, suck it. Oh yeah, that’s it… fuck. Clean me up with that slutty mouth, baby.”

He reaches down, smearing his thumb over your lips that are sticky with his pearly come. Cock in hand still, he strokes the side of your face as you look up at him and run your tongue over his length. 

“Next time, you can fill my ass.” You wink.

“Fuck,” Dieter chuckles. He has a large dimple on the left side of his face when he smiles; an almost perfect crescent, like the moon in its waxing phase. You decide instantly that it's kinda beautiful.

Standing, your hands on his chest - the wife beater drenched with sweat - you kiss him, slipping your salty tongue into his mouth and he whines, groping your ass and crushing his softening cock between you both. 

You feel him pick you up, wincing around his teeth a little, as he strains, hands splayed under your ass cheeks as he plonks you down on the counter where all the treats are kept, namely the basket of candy canes.

You groan contently into the seedy warmth of his mouth once more as he latches onto your lips, tongue exploring the wet crevices of your mouth. You cup the back of his head, yielding to the undercurrent of surrender, willingly.

Dieter takes one of the candy canes, unwraps it and slides it into your mouth. You feel his fingers stroking through your wet swollen folds, gathering it and swirling it around the rim of your ass as he puts one of your ankles on his shoulder. 

It's a feeling that goes beyond the physical, a warmth that stirs the echoes of desires you might not want to admit, but have willingly embraced nonetheless.

You want more of him, want more of this grimy bastard filling you up, and judging by how grunts, licking around your teeth and gums hungrily, Santa’s not done yet with you either. 

“Get it nice and wet, baby. That’s it.” He encourages you as you slurp and suck around the candy cane.

He takes it from you, and you bite down on your lip as you feel it pushing against your rim.

“Santa’s gonna make it disappear, baby.” Dieter, the Sleazy Santa chuckles at you, with a sly, twisted grin as you crush his rancid lips to yours once more. 

Thanks so much for reading more of Sleazy!Dieter. I hope you enjoyed him! Stay tuned for more of him in the future.🖤

MASTERLIST

[absurdthirst]

Crashing the Party {Dieter Bravo x Plus Sized!F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 13.2k

Warnings: Drug/alcohol use, dubious consent due to intoxication, flirting, Dieter being a menace, face sitting, begging, oral sex (male and female receiving), anal fingering, snorting coke off tits, apply coke to sex organs with sex organs, debauchery, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, hangovers, hurt feelings, drunken behavior, name calling, Dieter doesn't take advantage, hungover sex, make up sex

Comments: Deciding to crash your boss's party, you find that he doesn't recognize you in your sexy nurses costume. Leading you to a night you never expected to have, in your boss's bed.

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

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|| MasterList || Dieter Bravo MasterList ||

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“It has to be epic!” Dieter declared when he first told you about his idea to have the biggest and best Halloween party in the Hills. He had his party planner invite everyone he knows and he had his drug dealer drop off every drug known to man. He has spent a fortune on this party, even having you pick up his custom costume - a fortune teller - and you watch the party planner and her team scramble to decorate and finish setting up Dieter’s grand mansion. The security will arrive soon and you will leave thereafter. Not invited - not that you expected an invite from your boss but it would’ve been nice - you decide to head home and gorge on Halloween candy while watching horror movies. “This is fucking awesome!” Dieter cries out when he sees the finished set up before the party officially starts and he grabs the bottle of vodka, ready to get the night started. 

**** 

“You know…you should crash his party.” Your roommate tells you as she gets ready for her own party at her boyfriend's house. Her sexy corset makes you fluster as she adjusts her wig. “I got a few costume choices. You could go to the party you helped organize. You can go as a sexy nun…a sexy fairy…or a sexy nurse. There’s wigs too. No one would know it’s you. You should go crash it. Drink his booze.” She urges you, knowing how difficult your boss can be.

Dieter loves throwing parties. People fawn over him and gush about how good the party is. Making him feel useful and wanted. Feelings that he’s been trying to capture and been unable to hold onto over the past few years. His platinum credit card is used to cut a line of coke, giggling as he looks out over the people that are dancing and popping the pills that he has stationed around like candy bowls. A bowl of Molly, a bowl of Ice. There’s even some speedballs that are being passed around. Whatever someone wants, he’s got it here for them. His vodka glass is empty and he frowns dramatically, stumbling to his feet to move to the bar. He can’t do a line of coke without a vodka chaser. 

You manage to get past security, telling them you’re Dieter’s assistant and they saw you earlier so they know you. You get inside without issue and the party is already buzzing. Music playing and groups of people sitting around talking, making out or taking drugs. You step further into the house and see Dieter by the bar, pouring himself a shot. You don’t realize that his eyes have found you but he doesn’t know it’s you. He saunters over to you with a smirk, “well who are you and why aren’t you sitting on my face?” He asks and you wonder if he recognizes you at all. The wig and makeup have transformed you but you don’t think it was enough for Dieter to not know you. 

“Very funny, Bravo.” You scoff and walk past him, determined to have a good time so you locate the bowl of molly and take one. 

Dieter is confused, wondering why this beautiful woman walked past him without even acknowledging that he’s an fucking Oscar winning actor. He will find her again and make sure she knows who he is. Whose party she is attending. It’s kind of distracting, how he had just been ignored. Finding himself abandoning the line of coke to watch the mysterious woman as she pours herself a drink and moves over to the food tables. He hums, watching her hips sway under her costume and he imagines squeezing them as she rides his tongue or his cock, he’s not choosy right now. Hopefully both. Taking another shot of liquid courage, he moves towards the sexy woman and plasters on a cocky smile. “Got meat?” He asks teasingly, right as she is about to put a sausage in her mouth. “It’s good, right? I was told it was the best in L.A. But they hadn’t tried mine.” He jokes, winking at her. 

You stare at him, wondering if he recognizes you at all. You are made up in the sexy nurse costume, wig in place and makeup but you can’t believe your own boss doesn’t recognise your face. Maybe he really doesn’t give a shit about you. You pop the sausage into your mouth, chewing slowly as he stares at you, his eyes dipping down to your mouth. “I’d say this one is pretty damn hard to beat.” You smirk, reaching over the table to pick up some candy, chewing on it as he stands there watching you. 

“So…who are you here with?” He asks, leaning a little closer. 

“No one.” You hum, “heard there was a Sherman Oaks party and I couldn’t miss it.”

“Really?” His brows lift in surprise and he leans in even more. “Do you know who owns this house? Who’s throwing the party?” He asks, not bothering to wait for an answer. “Me. It’s my party, my house.” He smirks. “So….” He tilts his head towards the bar. “Let me buy you a drink and we can discuss how you’re going to ride my cock later on. I’m thinking slow and sensual, really taking your time. But I’m also open to being ridden hard and put up wet. Your call.” 

You nearly choke as your boss asks you to ride his cock. He really doesn’t know who you are because he never wanted you, never saw you as a person, let alone a woman in all your interactions working for him. “I’ll take the drink…and I’ll hold off on the cock.” You chuckle, enjoying seeing him not get what he wants all the damn time.

He pouts immediately but then shrugs it off and decides that he will convince you later on to fuck him. “Pick your poison.” He tells you, grabbing another one of those sausages for you before he guides you over to the bar. “I’ve got practically every liquor you could want. Or any pills.” He chuckles. “Here.” He hands this gorgeous creature the sausage before hopping behind the bar to grin at you. “What will it be?” 

You stare at him as he treats you like a conquest, something that you’ve never had directed at you but you’ve witnessed countless times as he tried to woo any man or woman that caught his eye. “Vodka and cranberry.” You tell him before popping the sausage into your mouth and you can’t resist teasing him but moaning as you chew. It’s gonna be fun to run Dieter ragged trying to seduce you.

His cock twitches at the sound of that sexy little moan and he swears he’s heard your voice before but he can’t place it. Critical thinking while high is never the best thing for him, and he’s popped a few pills before he hadn’t done that line of coke. “Vodka cranberry coming up.” He winks and grabs the bottle of Grey Goose. “Very easy drink.” he pauses as he pours the glass half full of vodka. “You want sprite in it too?”

Your eyes widen at the measure and you know you need to sip that to avoid embarrassing yourself by getting wasted. You nod so he puts the tiniest pour of sprite into the cup. “Thanks.” You thank him, fingers brushing his as you take the red solo cup. You take a sip, wincing at the strength of the vodka and you’re grateful it’s a higher end liquor. Only the best for Dieter Bravo. “You got any molly?” You ask, wanting to get a little high to enjoy the party - might as well since Dieter won’t surface until late afternoon tomorrow if this party goes until dawn. Dieter grins, grabbing the bowl of pills and you hesitate, knowing you shouldn’t get high but damn it, he does it all the time. You pick out a pill, popping it into your mouth and you stare at Dieter as he watches you like you’re the best thing since sliced bread.

He wonders why someone like you has escaped him, you must live nearby. “So, have you been to many Hollywood parties, baby?��� He asks, wrapping his arm around you and guiding you towards one of the empty couches. Restraining himself from sliding his hand down to squeeze your generous ass. “What’s your name, by the way?” 

You snort, knowing he’s just drunk and high and you can feel your high creeping over you. “My name…is not necessary unless you want to call me Nurse.” You tease, “and I’m too busy to go to these parties. I got work to do.” You say, sipping your drink as you sit down on the sofa and he practically curls around you. You know he’s drunk and high otherwise he wouldn’t be interested in someone like you.

“Nurse.” He hums, leaning in and dragging his nose along your shoulder. “Are you a naughty nurse?” He asks, grinning at the idea. “I like naughty nurses. And you are a sexy, naughty nurse.” His fingers run along your arm. “How’s your drink, baby?” 

You roll your eyes playfully as he crowds you and it’s overwhelming to be on the receiving end of his flirtations. “Strong.” You answer his question and he smirks, “stiff.” He adds and you giggle, feeling the drug relax you. “You are?” You tease and he groans, leaning in to brush his lips against your ear. 

“I am.” He promises and you know you should tell him who you are to him but you’re enjoying feeling wanted. 

“You really like nurses, huh?”

“I like this nurse.” He promises, drawing a little heart symbol on your arm before he places his hand on your knee. “You smell good too, what are you wearing?” He swears he’s smelled it before, it’s almost comforting. “That perfume?” 

"It's, uh, Carolina Herrera. Good Girl. My mom gave it to me for my birthday." You explain, even though Dieter forgot your birthday...or maybe he didn't even know about it at all. 

"Are you a good girl?" He asks teasingly and you smirk, wanting to mess with him a little more. 

"Sometimes." You whisper, leaning a little closer. Dieter smirks, his hand sliding a little higher up your thigh and you are surprised his attention is on you when he has a plethora of models and actresses in his home. "Can you tell me my future?" You ask him, reaching up to touch his headscarf.

“You want your future told?” He hums, squeezing your ample thigh and groaning when his cock twitches again at your softness. “I see that you are going to go to bed with an Oscar winner.” He predicts with a chuckle. “Who makes you cum with his skilled tongue and big dick.” Leaning in, he bites your jaw playfully. “Licking coke off your tits and sucking Molly off your clit.”

You gasp in arousal at his words, imagining just that. You know he's gifted orally - both professionally and personally from experience and sexually from accounts you've heard from his partners. To have his attention on you has you practically vibrating and you place your hand over his on your thigh and you think he thinks you're pushing him away but you guide it higher. "Is there an Oscar winner nearby?" You play dumb, wanting to rile him up a little.

Dieter growls, both confused that you don’t know who he is and loving that fact. No expectations. No demands. His fingers turn when he twists his wrist and he dives under the stretched out skirt to press against your clit through what feels like lace panties. “You’re in luck, baby. I’m an Oscar winner. And I love coke and Molly.” He smirks, starting to rub a small circle on your clit. “Question is…do you want to have sex with me?” The drugs have taken full effect and he’s hornier than normal. You’re fucking voluptuous and thick, making his mouth water and his cock throb. You remind him of someone he wants, but can’t have.

You swallow, your mouth suddenly dry as he rubs you just right on the first move and you swear you could cum for him right then and there. You know it’s the booze and the drugs that makes him want you and the same for you. You have this one night to be with your boss and you won’t deny yourself when he clearly wants you. Tomorrow, you’ll likely kick yourself but he doesn’t know who you are and he never will. You lean in, placing your hand on his upper thigh. “I want to have sex with you. Are you…are you going to leave your party or wait until we are all alone. I gotta warn you…I’m a screamer.” You smirk, leaning in to bite down on his ear lobe with that stupid earring like you've always wanted to.

“Ohhhhh fuck.” Dieter moans. “The party….fuck, it can go on without us.” He pants, loving how eager you are. “We can have our own party. One where you sit on my face and I’ll dip my cock in coke for you to suck off.”

You moan, eager to see how he is in bed. The Molly has you relaxed and you nod, “let’s go, baby.” You order, knowing that at least for tonight, you have Dieter Bravo. He stands up and grabs your hand, scooping up a baggie of coke and a baggie of pills as he pulls you along to his suite. You giggle, the music blaring as people party and the music is muffled as Dieter shuts the door when you’re inside his bedroom.

“Fuck, you’re sexy.” He groans, turning towards you and pulling off the hat of his costume. “Are you wearing lace under there? I thought I felt lace. Who cares? You’re gonna be wearing my face. Or maybe my face will be wearing you? I don’t care, but I want to lick your pussy.”

You smirk, “you wanna find out?” You ask, working on the flimsy buttons of the dress and Dieter stands there, almost hypnotized as he watches you strip off the cheap costume, exposing the lace you are wearing underneath. You know he’s clean, having organized his health checks for filming, so you are comfortable with him touching you. Even though the drug haze, you consider him to be comfortable.

“Fuck.” Dieter groans, eyeing your breasts and your curves. Licking his lips and imaging all the fucking places he could snort or lick drugs off you. “Okay. Yeah. Get undressed.” He quickly yanks his costume shirt over his head and starts to kick off his crocs. “Fuck, you make my dick rock hard, baby.”

You clench around nothing, imagining him naked far too many times to be professional as his assistant but you’ve been curious. “Show me.” You order, slipping out of your heels and he nods, shoving his baggy pants down his legs to display the bulge in his briefs - a rare clothing item he wears but needed for the party. You are glad he likes what he sees and you reach behind you to unclasp your bra, letting him see your tits for the first time.

“Goddamn.” Dieter groans, twitching again at the sight of your breasts, nipples hard and begging for his lips wrapped around them. “I can’t wait to suck on those while you bounce on my cock.” He palms himself and then hooks his fingers into his briefs to strip them down, letting his cock spring free and start to curl up as he kicks them off. He reaches for the pills and pops one in his mouth to swallow and then smirks. “Come here, sexy. Wanna make you feel good.”

Your eyes widen at the sight of his cock. You've seen him naked before. Unavoidable when you are trying to wake him up for an early call time and he sleeps naked, but you have never seen him hard. Not like this. Your mouth drops and he chuckles, gesturing for you to come over to him and you do, "fuck Dieter. I didn't - you're so thick." You reach down to take him into your hand.

Dieter’s grin quickly slides into a moan. “You- fuck, that had is so soft around me.” He pants, moaning again when you squeeze him as if to prove him wrong. His hands reach up to cup your tits and he swipes his thumbs over your nipples.

You moan as he pinches your nipples and he surges forward to press his lips to yours. Your tongue slides against his and you squeeze his cock a little harder as his hands fondle your tits.

He’s never had someone that is so unabashedly sexy and isn’t even trying. You are naturally sexy and he slides his hands down to squeeze your hips. “Fuck baby, get on my face.” He pants, excited to taste you.

You pull back, biting your lip, “are you sure? I- I’m not light.” You feel the self consciousness creep in as Dieter asks you to sit on his face. Even the booze and the drugs can’t stop it. “You want me to suck your cock?” You offer, wanting him to be distracted by another option.

Dieter grunts, shaking his head. “Only if you suck my cock while those thick thighs frame my head.” He grins, reaching one hand down and slapping a thigh.

You nod, knowing that Dieter doesn’t do what he doesn’t want to do. You let go of his cock and he pulls you over to the bed, laying down and patting his cheeks. “Take a seat, baby girl.” He orders and you hesitate as you kneel on the bed but he doesn’t give you a chance to say no as he tugs you over to straddle his face. It’s a little awkward as you hover over him until his tongue darts out to flick your clit and you moan.

​​He moans at the first taste of your cunt. Immediately falling in love with the musky, tangy taste, he pulls you down onto his lips firmly and groans into you as he starts to eat you out. Dieter might be selfish in a lot of ways, but he wants to give you pleasure, make you shake above him and his cock spurts some pre-cum from how excited he is.

You see his cock leaking and you can’t resist bending over to take him into your hand and within seconds, into your mouth. You moan around him, unable to believe how thick he is as he twitches inside your mouth. His tongue slides into your cunt and you relax, letting your weight drop more onto his face.

He groans like you are giving him the best gift when you shift onto him more. Enjoying the weight of you, the feeling of being smothered by you. His hands hold onto your hips, licking desperately into your wet little hole and wishing he could see how fucking sexy this looks. Your mouth around his cock feels amazing, like you are sucking his soul out, making him gasp into your folds.

You grip the base of his cock, pumping what doesn’t fit into your mouth and you moan when he sucks on your clit. His fingers are digging into your hips and you know you could smother him but he seems to be enjoying it.

He rocks his hips up, pulling your own back onto him more as you pull off his cock. Groaning at how sexy this is. Your split slides down into the hair at the base of his cock and he curls his tongue and pushes deeper before pulling it out, starting to fuck you with it and burying it as deep as he can, his nose pressed against your puckered hole.

You rest your cheek on his thigh after letting his cock drop from your mouth and you moan his name, “fuck. You - you’re so good.” You pant, his mouth working you up as his nose presses into your flesh. “You’re gonna make me cum.” You tell him breathlessly, your fingers wrapping around his cock and you take him back into your mouth, moaning around him again and again until he sends you over the edge. His cock falling from your mouth again as you cum, your cry echoing off of the walls of his bedroom.

Groaning happily, Dieter lets your arousal coat his face, smothering himself in your juices and he wonders if it's been a long time since you've cum or if you always cum that much. The frantic tongue fucking turns to languid, indulgent licks until you pull away from his mouth and make him whine at the loss of his new favorite treat.

You lift your hips off of his face and he whines in protest. “Baby. Baby. Baby.” You whimper, shifting off of him and you move to lay down beside him, reaching for him to cup his cheek so you can press your lips to see, tasting yourself on his tongue. “God, I see why they say your tongue is magic now.” You confess, reaching down to take his cock in your hand again.

"You need to see on my cock and see why they call it magical." He whines, rocking his hips up into your grip. "Fuck me, my pretty nurse. Or let me fuck you, I just know I'm gonna die if I don't slide into that perfect pussy."

“Fuck. I- you wanna - you wanna fuck me from behind?” You ask him, curious how he wants you and you don’t want to ride him, knowing he’d see you in an unflattering angle. “Then you can do coke off of my tits.” You offer, the drugs making you chattier than you’d normally be during sex.

"Fuck, you're perfect." He groans, reaching up and grabbing the back of your neck to drag you to him for another kiss. "Get to watch my dick plow into your pussy and making your ass jiggled and I get to snort coke off your tits? You're the fucking best."

You kiss for a few moments before he’s pulling back to tell you to get onto your knees. You obey, shifting onto your hands and knees, ass jiggling as you wiggle your hips while he kneels behind you. “Fuck me. I- I have an IUD. You can cum inside me if you want. Or use a condom. I don’t care. Just fuck me.”

Dieter giggles, slapping your ass before he caresses it. "You want my cock, baby?" He coos as he wraps his hand around his cock and pumps it as he shuffles up to press the head against your entrance.

You grind back against him, trying to push him inside but he teases you, making you hiss in frustration. You whimper and he takes pity, pushing deep inside of you in one thrust and you cry out loud enough for anyone passing in the hall to hear you. “Fuck!” You shriek, loving how it feels as he pushes deep and your ass jiggles as he smacks it.

"Oh fuck, you naughty, naughty, nurse." He groans out, grinding his hips and throbbing inside you. His hands caress your ass as he waits for you to adjust to him. He knows he's thick, that it can be a lot, so he just strokes from your tits down to your thighs.

Your head hangs between your shoulders as he lets you adjust to him and fuck, he’s thick. It’s enough to make you want to tap out but you ain’t a quitter. You take a deep breath and relax, giving yourself a moment until the burn fades. “You can move.” You tell him, looking over your shoulder.

"Fuck, baby." Dieter grits his teeth and digs his fingers into your ample flesh. Loving how he can be rougher with you and it doesn't feel like he's grinding against your bones. "I'm going to enjoy this so much. Touch yourself. Rub your pretty clit while I fuck you."

"Okay. Okay." You can't disobey him, reaching down to rub your clit, and your walls flutter around his cock as he starts to move inside of you. "So good." You choke, feeling more than anything you've felt in years.

Starting to rock into you, Dieter loves how your cunt flutters around him. "Oh fuck baby, best cunt I've ever been inside." He grunts, eyes rolling back before looking down at the way your ass shakes and you take his cock. "Jesus, you feel so good."

"You - you're just pussy drunk." You snort playfully as he rocks into you and you moan his name as he punches deep enough to hit your cervix. 

"Drunk on the best pussy I've ever had." He pants and you chuckle breathlessly, "bet you say that to all the nurses."

He groans, thrusting into you harder as he feels like his entire body is on fire. Leaning over you, he cups your tits and bites your shoulder as he fills you again and again. "Tight and warm." He groans. "So fuckin' wet, baby. This pussy is so fuckin' wet. So good."

"And - and you're so thick. God, is it the drugs or does this - this is the best sex I've ever had and I haven't even cum yet." You confess, rocking back onto him and he pinches your nipples.

"The best sex you've ever had." Dieter grunts, huffing out an amused laugh that you would think of anything else. "Because it's sex with me. God, you're so goddamn pretty. I could fuck you all the time."

"Do it. Fu- fuck me every day." You moan, rubbing your clit a little harder. You always thought your boss got laid and had people fawning over him because he was an Oscar winning actor but it turns out it's because he's a fucking sex god.

"Fuck." He groans at the thought of it. "Get you other nurse outfits, have you wear them all the time and sit on my cock. Let me finger you. Tongue fuck you. Have you suck my cock."

“Yessss.” You hiss, rocking back onto him as you get closer to your orgasm. “I can - I can be your - your sex doll. Wanna - wanna just have you fuck me all day. Have you lick my clit all day making me cum over and over until - until I let you fuck me. You’d have to be a good boy.” You ramble, lost in the pleasure as you imagined dominating Dieter a little.

His cock twitches deep inside you, moaning at the thought of that. "I'll be a good boy." He promises. "Fuck, no one wants to take care of me. It's always getting fucked by the movie star. No one just wants to take charge and fuck me."

You moan, wanting to take charge of him, to have him putty in your hands. “I can take charge. Ride you. Keep you from cumming until I’m satisfied.” You tell him, clenching around him to make your point as he pushes deep. “I’d make you beg me to cum.” You promise him, “you want me to make you beg now?” You ask breathlessly, wanting to hear him beg you for once after he orders you around all day.

"Fuck yes." He pulls out of you and flops down onto the bed. "Ride me, make me beg, baby." He urges you, eyes wide with desire as he looks over at you. "Please."

You should feel self conscious but the drugs and booze have you feeling confident as you shift to straddle him. Reaching down to grip his cock, you position him at your entrance and slowly start to sink down on him, your eyes meeting his as his gaze flicks between your pussy and your face.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck baby." He whimpers, toes curling and his hands hold onto your hips like a lifeline. "Jesus." his eyes roll back. "You're so gorgeous. You are so sexy, so fucking thick and beautiful."

His words spur you on and you start to rock your hips, grabbing onto the headboard behind him for leverage. “You are gonna make me cum. You can’t cum until I tell you to. Do you understand?” You ask and he nods. You let go of the headboard to grip his chin, making his eyes meet yours, “do you understand? Use your words.”

"Yessss baby." Your eyes are so fucking familiar but he can't help to stare into them. Watching you start to take your pleasure from him. "Anything you want. I'll make you cum, I want to make you cum."

You let go of his chin, gripping the headboard again. You rock your hips, grinding on him and your clit rubs against his pelvis and you pant out. “So close.” You announce and Dieter looks at you in awe, “cum for me baby.” He orders and you rock faster, chest heaving until you shake above him, clamping down on his cock as you cum around him.

He groans, twitching in your walls as you soak him. Loving how you moan and shake for him. Watching every move you make as you cum. He whimpers, wanting to cum, but you had told him that he couldn't cum until you told him that he could.

You come to a stop, thighs shaking and you look at him once you open your eyes. “Don’t cum.” You remind him, staying still on top of him. “I want to cum again.” He whines and you gently slap his cheek, “don’t whine. You’re gonna wait to cum.” You demand, loving the look in his eyes as you take control.

His pupils are blown wide, nearly making his eyes black as he looks up at you. "Yes, n-nurse." He pants out, letting go of your hips to reach up and grab hold of the headboard. Needing it to ground himself so he doesn't cum. "I'll be good. Want you to cum."

You smirk, “such a good boy for me.” You coo, caressing his cheek and you start to move again. You feel powerful and in control, something you’ve never felt when dealing with Dieter. “You’re - you’re so good.” You moan, starting to move a little faster and you bounce in his cock, spurred on by the power over him as he lays beneath you.

“All for you, baby.” He groans, closing his eyes for a moment so he doesn’t blow. Especially because your tits are in his face. “God, you ride my dick so well. It’s - fuck- you’re a dick riding artist.”

You moan, loving the praise, and you rock a little faster, your clit rubbing against his pelvis and you’re getting closer to another orgasm. “Shit. I- It’s - Shit. Shit. Cum with me. Cum for me.” You plead, wanting him to fall over the edge with you.

Dieter shudders, whining and immediately rocking his hips up to thrust up into you. “Yes baby, fuck, yes.” He moans, feeling his toes curling and his body starting to shake as he gets close to cumming. “Gonna cum.” He cries, thrusting up to bury his cock deep in your pussy as he paints your walls with his cum.

You cry out, shaking above him again and you love how it feels to have him fill you up, his cock twitching inside of you. You bounce on him until you come to a stop and his hips thrust up to ride his high as you clamp down on him. “Oh my God.” You pant, collapsing forward to rest on his chest. “Such - so good for me.” You exhale shakily.

“Ohhh that was so good.” He preens under the praise, his arms wrapping around you and he kisses whatever part of you he can reach, “so good. Don’t, fuck- we need another drink, right?” He asks, thirsty after the sex and he knows you have to be.

“Another drink.” You agree and he kisses along your neck as he rolls you onto your side, his softening cock slipping out of you. “You want - I can get your drink.” You slip into old habits as you look at your boss while he relaxes on his expensive sheets.

“That was good.” He shoves his hand behind his head and watches you. Frowning slightly when you seem to know exactly how the bar is laid out.

You work fast to prepare his favorite drink…tequila and soda with a lime and a salted rim. He loves to order it. You set it down on the nightstand and pick up your own vodka and cran, shifting awkwardly after you wiped his cum from between your legs with some cocktail napkins.

“Do you want to go back to the party or have our own party up here for the rest of the night?” Dieter asks, rolling over slightly to grab his drink and grinning lecherously at you. Normally he would be itching to join the party, but not tonight. He’s being greedy, wanting more time with you.

You know you should leave but you’ll only have Dieter for tonight before he passes out and likely forgets you even existed. Especially since he doesn’t recognize you. You sip your drink and smirk, “I thought you were gonna snort coke off of my tits first?”

"Oooooh yeah, that's right." He lights up and sets the tequila down to open the drawer of the nightstand to pull a small baggie out. "Can I? Maybe off your pussy too?" He groans. "The fucking taste of your cum, my cum and coke would be amazing, baby."

You nod, wanting to see this unhinged side of Dieter you’ve heard so much about and the drugs you’ve taken have made you loose and relaxed enough to enjoy yourself. “Whatever you want. I’m yours for tonight.”

"My little cum doll." He trills in delight and then grins, opening the packet and standing up to dip the tip of his cock in the cocaine. "Lay down and spread those gorgeously thick thighs, nurse. I have to apply the medicine to your pussy lips."

You inhale sharply at the way he kneels between your thighs and you spread them, watching as his eyes darken when he sees the remnants of his cum on your folds. "Dieter." You whimper when the head of his cock traces your cunt.

"It's okay, pretty nurse." He teases, knowing that he's switched to be more dominant right now. He goes that frequently. "Dieter’s gonna take care of you.” While he's tracing his coke laced cock through your folds, he uses his other hand to pour a line of the white powder out over your soft tits. "Fuck, you look like a fucking meal."

Your chest heaves as you watch him, almost animalistic in his gaze, and you whimper when he lets go of his cock to grab your tit, lifting it up so he can lean down to snort some coke off of your skin.

Your skin is damp with sweat and it makes him groan at the smell of you and the powder. Snorting up the line quickly, and following it up with his tongue to make sure he gets every spec of the coke off your body before he drags his tongue over to your nipple to start sucking on it hungrily again. You are letting him indulge and he wants to make sure he does everything he can think of to make this fun.

You whimper, running your fingers through his hair as he sucks on your nipple. “That - that feel good, baby?” You ask him, wondering if he feels as good as you do. “Fuck. I- I want you to suck it off my pussy.” You tell him, wanting to feel his tongue again.

“Fuck yes.” Dieter groans, popping off your nipple and immediately diving down below. “Look at that.” He huffs, pulling your lips apart to see his cum gathered in your folds and specks of the Coke mixed with it and your own juices. “Like a perfect, creamy dessert.” He dives in eagerly, burying his tongue into your cunt, headless of his own taste.

“Oh shit!” You gasp as he laps at your cunt, cocaine intermingled with your combined cum and he is ravenous, lapping at you like a man starved. You tangle your fingers in his hair and moan, your thighs pressed against his cheeks.

Dieter moans, continuously lapping at your clit and making sure that he cleans up every flake of the cocaine off your pussy. Addicted to this filth of the action and how much you are enjoying it as well. He groans, sliding his hands up to squeeze your breasts as he tries to drown himself in your cunt.

“Holy shit.” You moan loud and proud as his tongue works magic again. Your hands cover his over your tits and you rock your hips up to meet his mouth. “Fuck baby. Your mouth- so good. Not just for acting.” You tease breathlessly.

He looks up at you and winks, lifting his mouth up off your clit for a split second. "Knew you recognized me." He crows before he descends on your cunt again. Eager to make you cum.

You chuckle, “everyone knows you. I just liked pulling your leg.” You lift your leg onto his shoulder so he can push his tongue deeper inside of your pussy, “fuckkk. That’s - right there.” You pant as he sucks on your clit like it’s a hard candy.

He huffs into your folds, squeezing your tits again and if he's offended, he doesn't show it. Determine to prove that he can make you cum harder than before.

Your thighs shake as he works you up until you are squealing as you cum again. Your thighs threaten to smother him and your walls clamp down around nothing as he makes you cum harder than before. “Oh God.” You pant, your fingers tugging on his hair to keep him there.

He chuckles, lightening up on the pressure of his tongue and he slowly laps on your clit. Enjoying the feeling of your fingers tugging on his hair. He loves when he makes someone feel good so they lavish praises on him.

You try to catch your breath as he laps at your skin, trailing from your belly to your tits. “God. Are you - are you hard?” You ask, reaching down to wrap your fingers around him when you get your answer. “You want to fuck me again? Or me to suck you off?”

Dieter groans, rocking his hips up into your hand. "Fuck baby, I want whatever you want." He starts to babble. "I just want you to touch me. Be with me."

“Let me suck you off.” You order and push on his chest. He lays down and you shuffle down his body, taking his cock into your mouth without hesitation, wanting to taste him. To hear him whine.

"Oh fuck, oh shit baby." Dieter's moans are loud, his eyes clenching tight. "Your mouth is so fucking good. Oh God, holy shit.' He pants out, reaching down to cup your cheek. "You're so good to me."

He’s thick but you won’t quit as you take him deeper, pushing him down your throat and you breathe harshly through your nose as you try to stop gagging. Your eyes meet his and you slide your hand up to fondle his balls.

“Oh fuck, yess.” He moans. “Okay, with my balls, just like that.” He���s falling in love. A filthy girl who loves sex and drugs? Absolutely in love. “You’re perfect, so fucking perfect, baby.”

His praises spur you on and you roll his balls between your fingers until you slide your hand lower to caress the skin between his balls and his ass. His cock twitches inside of you and you move your finger further back, caressing his puckered hole until you gently push your finger inside, his cock still down your throat.

“Oh shiiiiiiiiiit.” Dieter chokes out, surprised by the finger but clamping down around it as you press against his prostate. “Gonna cum!” He whines, the combination of your mouth and fingering his ass has him over the edge quicker than before.

You swallow around him, his cum spurting down your throat and you work him through it, enjoying the wrecked look on his face and the way he sounds like you’ve just swallowed his soul.

“Oh god. Oh fuck. You’re so- I fuckin’ love your mouth.” Dieter pulls you up, wanting to kiss you, snuggle into you. “You’re gonna stay, right?” He asks, suddenly exhausted from the sex.

You nod, the high fading along with the pleasure and you shift to lay down on his pillows after gently withdrawing from his body. His arms wrap around you and you can’t resist curling into his chest, kissing the space above his heart. “I’ll stay.”

**** 

Dieter always wakes up slowly. Especially after a night of partying. He snorts, coughing and starts to peel his eyes open. Wrapped around a pillow, he turns over and expects to see the goddess that had graced his bed, changed his fucking world last night. Frowning when he sees empty, rumpled sheets. “Nurse?” He calls out, sitting up and looking towards the bathroom. It’s crazy he didn’t get a name, but he’s going to change that this morning. “Baby? Are you taking a piss?”

**** 

You freak out when you get home, not even bothering to shower at Dieter’s and you can’t believe you slept with your boss. Your head aches from the hangover and you just want to get in the shower and pass out for a few hours. Thankfully, Dieter likely won’t surface until noon so you have some time before you have to be at his house with his post party McDonald’s that he always denies. You get in the shower, washing him off you and you pray he doesn’t recognize you in the light of day.

Walking through the house reveals plenty of people who passed out, a lamp that’s been destroyed, but no nurse. He’s upset, confused as to why she didn’t stay when she promised she would and trudges back upstairs to climb back in the bed again. Depressed that the woman who had made him feel amazing had just left without a word. He knows how Cinderella's prince feels now.

You make your way over to Dieter’s to find the normal clean up crew sorting out his home and you carry his McDonalds meal through the house to see what he is up to. You find him sitting in bed with his glasses on, looking through his notebook. “How are you feeling, boss?” You ask him, wondering if he will realize it’s you and praying he doesn’t. Dieter might’ve wanted you last night but you know he’d hate to find out it’s you in the cold light of day.

“Do you have a list of all the guests invited?” Dieter asks you, frowning as he looks up at you. He almost asks if you had come, but then he realizes that would be ridiculous, you hate spending time with him unless it’s to do your job. “No, she said she was party crashing.” He sighs. “Do we have cameras here? I don’t know.” It’s crazy, but he doesn’t know what his security system entails. 

“Who- who are you looking for?” You ask after clearing your throat and you set the food down on the nightstand as he sits there, naked under the sheets most likely with his glasses perched on his nose.

"I met someone." Dieter tells you. "She's perfect and I need to find her, find out why she left this morning and convince her to - to date me." He huffs. "She's my Cinderella and I have wig that's her glass slipper." He reaches over and holds up the wig that she had worn for you to see. "Except I think that's a ‘one size fits all’ kind of thing."

You are shocked he wants to see "you/her" again after you figured he'd move on to his next conquest. The mystery nurse might be the topic of conversation for today but you know Dieter will forget come tomorrow. "Yeah. Those are one size fits all." You confirm, biting your lip as he checks the wig for any clues. "What was so special about this one?"

“She was amazing.” Dieter gushes, sighing and smiling as he remembers the night. “Sexy, bold enough to keep me on my toes.” His cock twitches under the sheets. “Sat on my face and rode my cock like a fucking goddess. I’ve got to find her. Wanted to take her out.”

You are shocked at the lovestruck look on his face but you know he’s just pussy drunk. “Oh, uh, wow. She was that good?” You can’t deny that you’re a little pleased that you’ve gotten Dieter in this state. You snort when he nods rapidly. “Wow. You can’t have a lot of people finger your ass.” You murmur.

"What did you say?" Dieter eyes widen drastically and he lurches forward to grab your hand. "Do you know her? Did she say something? You have to give me her number." The only way you know about that detail is if she told you.

You curse your slip up, letting him squeeze your hand. “I- I don’t know her. I haven’t spoken to anyone. I don’t have her number.” You answer his questions, “besides, I thought you were in love with that model you fucked a couple of weeks ago.”

"I didn't fuck her." Dieter admits, letting go of your hand and shaking his head. 

"Bullshit Dee, I was there when you two were getting out of bed." 

He winces and groans. "I- I was too fucked up. I couldn't- it doesn't matter. I don't give a shit about her. I want the woman from last night." He huffs.

You huff, “doesn’t matter. I’m gonna have to get tested now. Fucking drugs making me forget to be serious and I - i shouldn’t have come to the party last night. Not when you want someone like that model. You want an actress or a model. Someone who can understand your job and who is gorgeous and thin and perfect.”

Dieter frowns, trying to understand and then it hits him. "You?" He gasps out, his jaw dropping. "It was you? Why would you- why didn't you?" He frowns again. "You lied to me." Dieter murmurs. "Why would you lie to me?"

You wince, stepping away from him. “I had to. I- I crashed your party because you didn’t invite me. You’re just- you want your models and your actors here to party with you and I wanted a night off to pretend to be someone else and I ended up being myself with you…just in costume. I’m sorry I lied. I- I’ll hand my resignation in to your manager this afternoon.”

You turn around to start walking out of his bedroom and Dieter jumps out of the bed. Not giving a damn if he's still naked, he rushes forward to stop you. "No! Don't, you can't resign. Please." He begs, grabbing your hand and tugging you to a stop.

You turn to look at him in shock. “I- I don’t understand. You slept with me last night. Me. The woman who gets your coffee. That sees the worst parts of you when you’re high and you still want me here after you fucked me? Are you sure? I- I’m surprised you’re not grossed out.”

"What the fuck are you talking about?" He frowns, angry that someone would say something like that about you. "Who would be grossed out? You're my sexy, naughty nurse? I can't- it's amazing. I've never felt as good as I have with you. Last night was - you let me snort and lick coke off your body. You- you made me cum so fucking hard that I swear I saw stars. Why wouldn't I want you here? I wanted you here when I woke up."

“You say that now but I know you’ll get tired of me. You’ll move on to the next best thing when they come along and I- shit - I know you will get bored of me. I’m the new shiny toy. The shine will wear it off and you’ll fire me.” You sigh, “let’s just skip to the firing part, okay? I misled you. I- I tricked you. You should be mad at me.”

"Why? Why would I get bored of you?" Dieter feels like you are rejecting him and he doesn't like it. "Was it- was it just bragging rights?" He asks quietly. "To say you fucked your boss? A conquest?"

Your eyes widen, “no. No. I- trust me, Dieter. The last thing I expected when I came to the party was to sleep with you. I thought you were messing with me at first when you told me to sit on your face. When you didn’t recognize me…I guess I just wanted to be on the receiving end of your flirting…to feel wanted for once.” You confess softly, avoiding his gaze. “I know I was a one time thing. We had a good time and now…well, my fate is in your hands.”

Dieter frowns, trying to understand why you hadn’t stayed. Why you had run away and left him wondering what the hell he had done wrong. “Why is it a one time thing?” He asks, confused. 

You snort and toss up your hands. “You hit on everyone. Anyone with a pulse. Anyone but me. I know I’m not your type. I’m too- too not a model.” 

Dieter stares at you for a moment before he starts to laugh. “Not my type! You think you’re not my type?” He doubles over laughing and you huff. 

“You’ve never once even looked my way.” You remind him. 

“That’s because Tina threaten to cut my dick off if I hit on you and drove you away!” He tells you, having run off too many assistants before he had found you. “Threatened my dick!”

You chuckle, knowing Tina has been a massive part of controlling him when he threatens to go off the rails. “I must admit I’ve thought about doing that a lot too.” You reveal, “let’s just - just call this what it is. A mistake. You want me now because I’m unattainable but as soon as you take me out and we sleep together a few times, you’ll get bored and move on to the next pretty thing. That’s what you do. I don’t want to risk my job…our working relationship.”

Dieter sighs, knowing he can’t convince you to give him a chance. “That’s not what I want, but okay.” He turns around and walks back to the bed slowly. Wanting to crawl in and just pretend he had never woken up. “Just- I don’t care, I guess I had an amazing dream last night.”

You nod, knowing this is for the best, so you clear your throat. “I’ll - I’ll head home. Your food is getting cold. Text me if you need anything else.” You tell him and shuffle awkwardly when he doesn’t respond so you exit his bedroom and make your way out of his house, tears in your eyes because your boss will never feel the same way you do, even if he doesn’t know how you feel.

Dieter considers getting high. He considers calling up someone to come over and fuck him. Ignoring the food you had left, he wallows in bed, listening to the cleaning service the party planner had hired to clean up today. Wondering why he had not recognized you when it’s so fucking obvious now. Feeling alone and miserable and hating that his hopeful plans had been crushed. You don’t want him and it’s killing him because you should be throwing yourself at him.

You head home, not sure how you even get there as you grip the steering wheel and wonder how he didn’t recognize you. You wish you could turn around, go and see him, but you can’t. He’d just break your heart. When you get home, your roommate is lounging on the sofa and she says she’s heading out tonight too, going to this new bar if you wanna join her. Usually, you’d have to say no in case you need to be sober and on call for Dieter but you decide to say fuck it and tell her you’ll go. You get ready, dressing in a cute dress to try and make yourself feel better and you head out to the bar. “What’s got you down?” Your roommate asks as she leans against her boyfriend and you shake your head, picking up your drink to down it. 

“I don’t wanna talk about it.” You confess and she scoffs, “is it your asshole boss again? Seriously, he’s a fucking jackass. I don’t know why you don’t quit.” She says and you shake your head, needing another drink. 

“You don’t know what it’s like…I- I can’t quit because I - shit. It doesn’t matter.” You huff and stand up to get another drink. You’re set on getting drunk tonight to try and forget all about your boss. You need to forget about him.

Dieter sighs as he flips through the channels. Hating how he has the biggest cable package and there isn’t shit to watch. He is bored and the idea of partying just sours on his stomach, so he’s sitting at home like an asshole, pining over his assistant. His phone buzzes and he almost ignores it, but he looks over and sees that it’s you. Scrambling to answer it. “Hello? Hello? I’m here. Hey.”

You lean against the bar, "you - you bastard." You slur slightly and Dieter pulls back to look at the phone in shock. 

"Excuse me?" He asks and you chuckle. 

"You he-heard me. You fucking bastard. You sexy...funny...talented, asshole. So - so fucking handsome and God, now I know how good you are in bed and I - you bastard." You repeat, the phone pressed against your ear.

“You’re drunk.” He chuckles, realizing that you have apparently had a little too much to drink after leaving here. 

“And? What of it?” You huff. “I’m a -a adult. I can drink if I want to.” 

Dieter grins, enjoying the slightly belligerent attitude and the sass. “Yes you can, and you licked Coke off my dick if I remember right.” He hums, leaning back against the pillows. “Where are you?”

You ramble off the bar name without thinking, lost in your thoughts, and you continue, "yes. Yes I did. And you fucking loved it. I can't - I can't get your face out of my mind. You looked - God, so sexy. Wish I could've taken a photo. Only chance I'm gonna have to see it."

“That’s not true.” Dieter decides he’s going to get you, getting out of the bed and putting pants on. They are sweats, in better condition than his normal outfits. “You saw my face today.” You huff, blowing a raspberry through the phone. “You know what I mean.” That makes Dieter chuckle as he bounds down the stairs and grabs his car keys. “You looked sexy on my face.” He tells you. “Fucking tasted even better.”

You groan, “see? It’s shit like that that has me in this trouble. You can’t - you can’t just say that and not expect people to fall in love with you.” You rub your eye, smudging your mascara. “You - you’re a horny bastard and you will fuck anyone. I’m not special. Just the flavor of the week.”

Dieter knows you won’t believe him if he says that’s not true. He would have to prove it to you. “So you fell in love with me?” He hones in on that line as he speeds down the road towards the bar you named. It’s one he knows pretty damn well and he wonders if you chose it for that reason. “Because I fucked you? Because of the tongue thing?”

“Nooooo.” You whine, “it’s not - I mean, the tongue thing was fucking amazing but no. It’s - it’s you. I see a side of you that no one else sees and you are a good man. You don’t think you are because you think you have to have this fucking persona, but you’re sweet and kind when you want to be. God, you just - you need someone to ground you.” You sigh, leaning against the bar. “And that person- you need someone incredible.”

“I found someone incredible.” In that, Dieter is completely honest. He realized he doesn’t care about how famous his partner is or what drugs they take. He wants someone who makes him feel like you did last night. “Someone I want to be with.” He hopes you realize he’s talking about you. You should. “I’m going to pick her up right now.”

You don’t pick up what he’s saying too busy moping as you nurse your drink and you sigh down the phone. “Of course you are. I bet she’s perfect for you.” You huff and he chuckles as he pulls into the parking lot. 

“She is.” He says and you groan, “of course. Fuck. I- I hope she makes you happy.” You say and you don’t see him standing in the doorway to the bar.

“She does.” He answers and your roommate’s eyes widen when she sees Dieter walking towards you. “I - I want you to be happy. You deserve it.”

“Just have to convince her to go home with me.” He tells you, walking up and pulling his phone away from his ear. “Hey baby.” He grins when your head snaps up and you stare at him with a shocked expression. “What are you doing- I’m here?” You ask and he snorts. 

“I’m trying to convince the woman I love to come home with me. She’s drunk right now, so I’m hoping she’s crazy enough to believe me when I tell her I want to be with her. Spend all my nights with her. Pleasure her. Because I love her.”

You stare at him in shock, glancing behind you to make sure he wasn’t talking to someone else. “Me?” You ask, pointing to yourself and he nods, chuckling at you. You stumble as you surge forward, cupping his cheeks as you lean in to kiss him.

Dieter laughs as you kiss him, wrapping his arms around you and holds you close. “I love you, baby.” He promises, pressing his lips to yours again and again while your roommate watches on in shock.

“Take me home.” You plead, suddenly desperate for him and your roommate stands up to come over and ask if you’re okay. “Okay? I’m - I’m on top of the world.” You promise her, slurring slightly. “Dieter is gonna take me home.”

She frowns and turns to Dieter. “She’s drunk.” She huffs, poking him in the chest. “She can’t do anything.” Dieter rolls his eyes and grabs your roommate's hand and pats it, “I’m going to take her home and put her to bed.” He promises her quietly. “I don’t want to take advantage of her. I just want to sleep beside her and wake up with her like I should have this morning.”

Your roommates eyes widen, “wait - you- you slept together last night?” She asks and you answer before Dieter does. “Yesss and he was incredible. Made me cum so many times and his tongue…talented for more than just acting, I’ll tell you that.”

He smirks proudly and looks back at your roommate. “I’m going to take her home with me. But don’t worry.” He tells her seriously. “I’m not that kind of man. I like complete and enthusiastic consent and if she’s drunk and I’m sober? That shit doesn’t work for me.”

You lean against him, kissing his neck. “You better look after her.” Your roommate narrows her eyes at him. “I will.” He promises her, wrapping his arm around your waist to steady you. “Come on baby, let’s get you home to bed. To sleep.” He adds and you pout, saying goodbye to your roommate with “bye babe. I’m gonna go ride this gorgeous face.” You say, squeezing Dieter’s chin as he guides you to his car.

Dieter chuckles as he opens the door for you and you don’t want to let him go. It’s strange to be the one taking care of you, but he kind of likes it. “The sooner we get home, the sooner you can climb into bed with me.” He tells you, using the same tactics you use on him. Bribery.

You get in his car and when he’s inside and driving to your place, you reach over to squeeze his cock through his pants. “God. Your cock is so beautiful. Should’ve been a porn star. You would’ve made double the money you’ve made.” You giggle, wanting to suck his cock again.

“Fuck, you’re so horny when you’re drunk.” He groans, hating that you’re drunk and he’s sober. He reaches for your hand and takes it off his cock, squeezing it and putting it on his thigh so he can back out of the parking space. “What changed your mind baby?” He asks. “You were convinced I wouldn’t want you.”

You sigh, lifting your hand off of his thigh to lean your head against the cool glass of the passenger window. “I just want you to fuck me one last time before you lose interest and get distracted to go with someone else.”

“Why do you think I’ll lose interest?” He asks seriously. “Have I ever run after someone? Chased them?”

You close your eyes, suddenly exhausted, “no. You - you never chase. You want people to come to you. To make you feel special. You want validation and - and you get it. From whoever you want. I’m not enough for you.” You confess, knowing you’re spilling your guts again.

“Didn’t I just come to you?” He asks, reaching over and taking your hand. “I just chased you down and I’m dragging you back to my bed.” He snorts. “And I’m not even going to fuck you tonight. I just want to wrap my arms around you and sleep. Give you water and aspirin so you aren’t hung over. Hold your hair if you need to puke.”

He is soon putting the car in park and you are nearly asleep against the window, enjoying the coolness of the glass and you smile against it. “Just tonight. Let me have tonight.” You plead softly.

“You’ll have tonight.” He promises, getting out of the car to walk around and help you out. Not rushing you into the house to fuck you, he grins as you nearly stumble. “You’re so fucking cute.”

You lean against him, desperately wanting to strip off and get into bed, and his arm wraps around your waist. “I got you, baby.” He promises, “gonna get you some water and aspirin.” He assures you and you turn your head to kiss his neck, “thank you.”

He hums, enjoying the kiss but he can’t kiss you, not when you are like this. He guides you into the house and upstairs. “Let me get that water, baby.” He murmurs softly. “You get in the bed.”

You don’t argue, stripping down to your underwear and you slide under the covers. “Come here baby. I want you to fuck me.” You order, wanting him to touch you while you know he still wants you.

Dieter grabs a water and the aspirin, thankful for the little fridge you keep stocked for him. “I can’t fuck you, baby.” He groans, walking over to the bed. “You’re drunk.”

You huff, pulling the covers over your head and you close your eyes. “Knew it was too good to be true.” You murmur, feeling yourself starting to drift off to sleep even though you want Dieter.

Dieter sighs, setting the water down on the nightstand next to you and shuts off the light. He strips back down and climbs under the covers next to you, cuddling against your huddled body. “It’s not too good to be true.” He murmurs, sliding his arm around you. “I’ll show you when you wake up sober.”

When you wake up, your head is throbbing. Worse than your hangover from the day before, and you wince as the sunlight peaks through the blinds. A warm body is pressed against you and you gasp, remembering that you called Dieter last night. “Fuck.” You curse yourself for giving in to your damn feelings.

Dieter tightens his hold on you and grunts when he feels you shift. “Gonna throw up, baby?” He mumbles, lifting his head and cracking one eye open to look over at you. “Trash can is right by the table.”

You weren’t but now that he’s mentioned it, you scramble to grab the trash can, just barely making it before you throw up. Two nights of drinking when you rarely drink has fucked you up and you gag as you throw up the bile and booze from your stomach.

“’s okay.” He pets your hair and holds it back, rubbing your back sympathetically just like you always do for him. Wanting to take care of you, “water and aspirin is on the table.” He reminds you.

You set the trash can down, wiping your face with the back of your hand as you reach for the water, downing half of the bottle before you swallow the aspirin. “Sorry. I know you hate people being gross around you.” You murmur, swallowing some more water.

“You were drunk.” He hums, rubbing your back. “It happens. Fuck knows I’ve been sick enough around you.” He chuckles quietly. “Do you want to go back to sleep?”

You shake your head, “I need to go to the bathroom and I need to brush my teeth.” You smack your lips, hating the feeling after throwing up and you know Dieter keeps new brushes in there for his guests. He nods and you make your way into the bathroom to pee and wash your face before you brush your teeth. You come back into his room to find him still in bed and you sit on the edge. “I, uh, I’m sorry about last night. Calling you while I was drunk…wasn’t very professional of me.”

Dieter shakes his head, sitting up. “I’m glad you called me. Come lay back down.” He urges, holding up the covers but you shake your head and he sighs. “Great.” He huffs. “You’re going to leave again. Because you don’t think that I want you.” He frowns, upset that you continuously think he’s lying. “Fine, go, fuck.” He spits, lurching out of the bed to stomp into the bathroom. “For someone who claims that I would get bored and find someone else, all you’re fucking doing is driving me away.”

“Because I’m trying to protect myself. You aren’t exactly Mr. Commitment and I know - I fucking know that you will want someone who won’t embarrass you at events…pap photos…the life you lead means someone like you shouldn’t be with someone like me. I’m trying to protect myself and you- you’re just - fuck. I wish I was still drunk and believe that you could feel the same way I do.”

“What a fucking bunch of horseshit.” Dieter pokes his head out from the bathroom and shoots you a glare. “I don’t give a goddamn what people think of me. And I would never be embarrassed that a sexy woman want me. Who gives a fuck if you’re not everyone’s ideal woman? You’re mine. But that doesn’t fucking matter because you’ve got it stuck in your head that I’m some kind of monster.” He growls, slapping his hand against the frame. “I am trying to - fuck it, it doesn’t matter. Just get out.” He demands. “Get out if you don’t believe me.” He repeats quietly, closing his eyes. “I’m tired of being rejected by the woman I love.” He disappears back into the bathroom and sighs.

“Wait…” You stand up on shaky legs, “you- you love me? Like in love or just love me as a person or a friend?” You ask for clarity, confused and hopeful as your heart flutters in your chest, the bathroom door still open so you walk towards it.

Dieter is naked, standing in front of the mirror and loading up his tooth brush to clean his teeth when you walk in and stand in the doorway, watching him with an almost hopeful look on your face. “Like in love with a gorgeous, sexy, kind, wonderful woman who I had the most amazing fucking night with, even if I didn’t know it was her, and I want to repeat it. Every night, for as long as she’s not tired of my shit. And, you know, take you out and shit. Show you off on the red carpet.”

You stand frozen, watching him brush his teeth, and you see yourself in the mirror and you feel his words settle over you. He loves you. He’s in love with you. You walk over to the counter, standing next to him. “When did you - when did you fall in love with me?” You wonder if it was that night or if he’s felt like this for a while.

Spitting out the tooth paste, he looks at you and sighs, turning back to the mirror. “Year and a half ago?” He admits. “After …. After the Anika thing went south and you stayed over and let me be a pathetic asshole and mope around.” He shrugs. “I thought it was rebound shit, but I wasn’t fucking you and the feelings never went away.”

You’re surprised. He’s never indicated that he felt that way. He had been nicer after that time, more considerate to you. Didn’t call you randomly at 3 am for you to grab a script or some stupid shit like that. “I, uh, I’ve been in love with you since before we went to England for you to fall in love with Anika. You, uh, you were doing a script read for that movie and you looked so into your work, so passionate. I saw you in a new light and uh, yeah. It wasn’t fun to watch you wanna be with Anika but I never imagined you’d want me. So, uh, yeah…I’m in love with you too.” You confess, keeping your gaze on his in the mirror.

"Why wouldn't I want you?" That is what keeps upsetting him. "You don't think you're beautiful? You're not sexy?" He asks you seriously. "Since when does your size, your weight, make you unattractive?" He asks seriously. "You've got a gorgeous face, a wonderful personality. Amazing tits, killer ass, thick- luscious thighs and a pussy that had me jerking off like four times today." He huffs. "So don't tell me that you can't believe that I'm not wanting you."

You sigh, “honestly? My mom - she put me on a diet when I was ten. I went to weight watchers by thirteen. She told me I’d never get a boyfriend if I didn’t lose weight. No one would want to marry a fat girl. I never got asked out in high school or college. Never got asked to prom. I was always the funny one…the friend…never the one that guys wanted. My friends? They’d ask them out but never me. I’ve never seen myself as - as a leading lady so to speak and that’s why I’m like this. I’m sorry. I’m sorry I keep pushing my insecurities on you but you’re so handsome and funny and I hear my mother’s voice telling me this is too good to be true. That I’m not good enough for this.”

"Fuck your mom." Dieter huffs, pushing away from the sink and tossing his tooth brush down on the counter before he reaches for your hand. "You're hungover, just threw up and you're doing this to me." He takes your hand and pulls it to his hard cock. "I'm a jerk. I'm shallow, I'm fucking horny and you think I will fuck anything with a pulse. That used to be true. But I don't want to fuck just anyone. I want to fuck you. I want that sexy fucking girl who sat on my face and rode my dick like she was a cowgirl and let me just - fuck baby." He twitches in your hand at the thought. "You don't judge me for being myself. I love that and I love you."

You stare at him, processing his words and your fingers flex around his cock. “God, Dee.” You murmur, stepping closer to him and you let go of his cock to wrap your arms around his neck. “I love you. I love you. Please don’t hurt me.” You plead softly, clinging to him.

Dieter turns his head, kissing you gently despite you getting sick earlier. “I don’t want to, baby.” He promises. “I want- I want to take care of you.” It’s surprising, since he’s the one who is normally cared for, but he wants to try something different with you. “You want to go back to bed?” He offers quietly, “to rest. I know you have a killer headache. You drank a lot apparently.”

You nod, ready to lay down again. “Come on. I want to cuddle, Bravo.” You smile as he nods and you slide under his covers again, sighing in relief as you get to close your eyes and you feel him behind you, wrapping his arms around you. “You maybe want to fuck the hangover away?” You ask, tracing the freckles on his forearm.

“Do you want to?” Dieter asks, smirking as he presses his face into the back of your neck. His cock is poking against your ass. “I can keep it slow. Not jar you too much.” He hums. “Fuck you just like this while I rub your clit? Or you want to lay under me?”

“Like this. Want you to fuck me like this. Lazy and slow. We aren’t in a rush.” You grind back against him, “I just want to feel connected to you. I want to feel you.” You murmur, reaching back to run your fingers through his hair.

Dieter hums and closes his eyes at the feeling of your fingers through his hair. Sliding his hand between you so he can grip his cock and shuffles forward. “I can do that. I can make it good for you, baby.”

You pull your panties aside for him and he notches himself at your entrance and pushes into you. “Shit.” You moan, eyes closing as he slowly stretches you out. “God, I love you.” You murmur, leaning against his body as his hand slides up to cup your breast.

“Fuck, I love you.” He hums. “I can’t believe that was you and I didn’t recognize you.” He admits breathlessly. “I should have. I think about you all the time.”

You chuckle breathily, “to be fair…I was wearing a wig and I- I was dressed in something I would never wear except it was one of the costumes my roommate has.” You tell him with a smirk as he rocks into you and you squeeze over his hand on your breast.

“Love your roommate.” He grunts. “Need her to give you more outfits to wear.” He jokes. “But you need to, fuck, tell her that I didn’t touch you last night.” He pants out. “Think she might cut my balls off.”

You snort as his hips press against your ass. “I’ll tell her. She - she isn’t your biggest fan because she’s been there during all the 3am calls and late night runs to get you what you want.” You confess, grabbing his hand and sliding it down into your panties until his fingers find your clit.

Dieter groans when you clench down around him, rubbing your clit just to hear you moan his name quietly. “Yeah but I’m good.” He protests. “I’m gonna make you feel so good baby.”

Whimpering, you relax against him and let him rut into you, his fingers on your clit and he rubs a little faster as you get closer to your orgasm, spurred on by the feelings shared between you. “Dee. I’m - I’m gonna cum.” You warn him, your head on his shoulder.

“That’s good, baby, you cum on my fingers and my cock.” He groans, kissing along your shoulder. “Want you to soak me like you did last night. Fuck, you were so sweet.”

You gasp, clamping down on his cock as he pushes into you while rubbing your clit. The orgasm flows through you slowly and your mouth opens in a silent cry as you soak him, your nails digging into his forearm.

“God that’s it. Soak me, baby. Fuck you’re so pretty when you cum.” He groans in your ear. Rubbing your clit to work you through it.

Panting, your walls flutter around him and you reach back to pull on his hair, "cum for me, Dee. Cum. Wanna feel it." You plead, feeling his thrusts get sloppy.

Dieter groans out your name, hisses at the flash of pain from having his hair pulled. “Oh fuck baby.” He groans, kissing along your neck, “gonna cum. Gonna fill you up.”

His hips push against your ass, his cock twitching and you moan when he starts to cum, filling you up with his hot seed and you turn your head to kiss his jaw. “I love you. I love you. I love you.” You ramble, loving how he feels, how he sounds, how he makes you feel.

His eyes slip closed and he whines your name again, holding you tight. Fucking blown away and amazed that you love him. That you want to be with him. He doesn’t want to fuck this up, doesn’t want to lose you. “I love you baby.” He groans. “Want to snort Coke off your tits forever.”

You giggle as he relaxes behind you, still inside of you, and you close your eyes. “You can. As long as you want me, I’m yours. We just gotta talk about me being your assistant and finding the balance between work and personal. We can talk about that later when you’re not inside of me.” You tease him.

“I don’t know if I can.” Dieter grunts. “I’m gonna be inside you all the time. You can be my ‘on the cock’ assistant.” He jokes, kissing your shoulder. “I want this to work. I know you have to be professional. I don’t want anyone talking bad about you.”

You hum, squeezing his hand as he kisses your shoulder again. “We will figure it out baby. We will. As long as we communicate and we love each other, we can face it all.” You promise and he smiles against your skin, “and you’ll get those costumes from your roommate?” He asks, “and the wigs.” You tease and he hisses in victory. “Fuck yes.” You giggle and snuggle into his expensive mattress, exhausted but excited. Crashing Dieter’s Halloween party turned out to be the best decision you’ve ever made.

[deus-lapidis]

College Boyfriend Zhongli

Characters: Zhongli x gn!reader

Genre: fluff

A/N: Prequel/Background to the “Professor Zhongli but you’re his spouse and not his student” series. The brainrot inflicted by @hiraya-rawr (dw hun, your specialty treat is in progress atm!!)

The professor and the spouse series

Admittedly, he is quite the eye candy for everyone that attends classes alongside him, but he’s always ready to decline any date invitations, if they’re not from you, his all time favourite person.

You get bragging rights for being this man’s s/o. Fucking congratulations. He is great husband material (cough and y’all DO marry soo…)

He walks you to the lectures that he doesn’t have with you and picks you up whenever he can! He also always wants to have lunch with you, may it be at school, outside somewhere in town or at either your places.

He’s not much of a party person in college as during his rowdier early high school times (he was a dignified high schooler, but he had a slight tsundere phase bc it was puberty aka the teenage dirtbag era)

Oh this goes for both college and prof Zhongli or just any Zhongli tbh. He smells so good and whenever he gives you one of his soft sweaters, you’re in immediate heaven, it’s like being engulfed in a Zhongli hug. He thinks it’s cute.

He’s such a simp for you, my god, he’s so loving. Definitely holds your hand if you like it and presses gentle kisses to your forehead/hair.

You two go on lots of local cafe dates and the grandmas and aunties there love him, because he’s such a handsome and polite guy, who is always down for a chit chat.

“Ah, A-Li! Is that the person you’ve been telling us about? Come get them to sit with us, they have such a lovely face!”

They embarrass him a little by exposing his simpery for you <3

Sometimes you’re studying a lot and can’t see him as much as you’d like, but it’s quite adorable how he shows up at the library to sit at the same table with you. He patiently waits for you to finish up, while either doing work himself or just reading a book. (he brought snacks and tea for you)

He likes to invite you over to his flat and you meet his flatmates, their flatmate bonding cook offs are so great and epic and you’re fairly certain that this man only knows how to cook so he doesn’t get criticised to death by his friends. They also love to poke fun at him and also expose him like the cafe grandmas hehe

He naps like a dad. It started during college and it never stopped, so as a professor, he still naps like a dad.

With dad napping I mean falling asleep sitting on the couch, arms crossed with his glasses slightly shifted.

You two once got matching silly keychains when you were out and he never stopped using it, since in his later years, the little gudetama charm is slightly damaged from weathering and the paint is chipped, but it has so much puppy love stored in it, that he uses it to decorate his USB thumb drive <3

[quillofspirit]

2023 fic recs

If there's one thing to know about me, is that I love to read! and I love to share the good fics, so I figured I would put them all on one list💚

pssst! it's my first time doing anything like this, so if you have recommendations for the format, please do leave them in the comments or drop me a message! thanks xx

Key 🍬 fluff 🧯 spicy 🌡️ smut ⛈️ angst 🌪️ all

For people I have tagged, please let me know if there is anything you’d like me to add or remove — like a link to another account. It’ll be my pleasure☺️

Lord of the Rings (and related)

⛈️🧯Fuck the Forbidden pt. 1 by @entishramblings

Boromir x mermaidfem!oc Teens and Up but read the warnings carefully 9,500 words

Now I want mermaids in everything. why aren’t there mermaids in everything? The descriptions are so well done, everything is so vividly easy to visualize, oh I just loved it.

I am so hyped for pt 2!!

🍬⛈️ Healing Touch by @ass-deep-in-demons

Boromir x fem!oc Teens and Up 4,350 words

My film studies degree was very happy about the descriptions of movement in this one - it’s a little specific but hear me out. It’s much easier to see the actors playing the scene when it’s described this well! THAT ENDING, I have to say I joined Legolas, and I don’t have excuses.

I cannot wait to read the rest of the adventures of Joanna!

🍬 I Might Need to Kiss You by @fizzyxcustard

Thorin Oakenshield x fem!reader 400 words

I was squealing, this is so sweet. like the perfect little pick me up when you need a reminder, and Thorin is nothing if not a good king to his subjects 😇

🍬 Sweet Conversations by @glassgulls

Haldir x fem!reader Teens and Up 5,360 words

did I almost break my mouse when I clicked on this? noooo

Would I do it again? approximately 5 times since ☺️

Who doesn’t love sneaking around and kissing pretty elves, especially when they propose the idea so nicely… Just read it, you’re welcome

⛈️🧯Transformed by @sotwk

Thranduil’s son OC x fem!reader Teens and Up 2,400 words

There are at least two werewolves! When I tell you I read it three nights in a row, just to truly catch all the little things that made me go absolutely feral this so lovely to read. Yes, there’s gore (only a little bit) and there’s angst, but there’s also dialogue that would be made into gifs were it a movie.

Pirates of the Caribbeans

🌪️Catch the Wind by eriathiel (@esta-elavaris)

James Norrington x fem!oc Explicit 418,000 words

101 chapters of epic, pirates, and sweetness. The definition of you will suffer and you will like it. I finished this in like two days, because I couldn’t put it down, like a child on Halloween night going through their whole bag of candy.

⛈️🍬 Fallen Through Time by eriathiel (@esta-elavaris)

Catch the Wind AU Mature Ongoing; 34,000 words

12 Chapters so far, but it’s probably going to make me want to read everything about Theodora again. I am very normal about this character. 😌

Other fandoms

🌡️One of Those days by @capricornafterdark

Jason Todd x fem!reader Explicit 750 words

Sometimes you need to be taken care of, and sometimes its easier to take care of others.

🍬Patience by @velvetcloxds

Charlie Swan x fem!reader Just straight cuteness 600 words

A cute yet serious conversation with Charlie

🌡️That Takes Trust Darlin by @capricornafterdark

Jason Todd x transmasc!reader Explicit 1,950 words

It takes a lot of trust to tell a person about your desires, and even more when you spend your time catching villains.

🌪️ What Happens After You? by StrengthBeforeWeakness

Ominis Gaunt x fem!oc Mature 219,000 words

A badass Ravenclaw, sweet sweet Garreth, and dark!Sebastian. I am tempted to say it’s almost a Hogwarts Legacy AU because the lore in this fic is so incredible, it feels new again.

These are my headers and dividers, please do not use them.

[lockea]

10 Fanfiction Recs

In honor of IFD 2024 and @ao3org organizing the feedback fest, here are 10 fanfiction from my bookmarks (all complete, lots of oldies) spread across as many fandoms as I read.

Scylla and Charybdis by Mithrigil, puella_nerdii Fandom: The Hunger Games "Finnick decides that, come hell or high water, he is bringing his tribute home from the seventieth Hunger Games. That tribute is Annie Cresta. But Finnick never thought that he would have to choose between bringing her home and keeping her safe, and he wants both. How Annie Cresta crept up on Finnick Odair."

I heard Hunger Games was back in fashion, so have this fic from 2011 that's just so good.

Primary Colors by RobotSquid Fandom: Homestuck (no, I am not apologizing!) "As a young troll living in the desert with the Dolorosa, the Signless comes across an unconscious psionic wriggler. Over the next few nights, they come to understand and care for each other. Although seemingly destined to be apart, they make a promise to be together again. But the destructive ways of the highbloods are becoming more widespread, and as the Signless begins to dream, he dedicates himself to regaining the peaceful world Alternia once was. But troll society as it stands now holds no sympathy for a candy red mutant, a psionic slave, or the matespritship they have."

A canon-compliant (I think, I stopped reading Homestuck around this time) story about the Signless that's full of great world building and honestly I don't remember much but I have it on my bookmarks list for a reason, I'm sure.

A Long Road to Destiny by Miko Fandom: Final Fantasy VII (set in Final Fantasy X verse) "The summoner's journey is a long, hard path to walk. Having guardians you trust makes all the difference in the world."

The story follows Cloud, who is half Al-Behd, as he makes his pilgrimage to be a summoner. Early on, he's joined by Sephiroth, a former Summoner, and Zack, who wants to be Sepiroth's guardian, and the three begin quite the epic adventure to save Spira.

Immovable, unbreakable by Cards_Slash Fandom: Assassin's Creed "Altair has known since he was thirteen years old, the year he realized he was an omega, that his body was never going to be his own. He thought he had overcome his own fate when Al Mualim agreed to allow him to stay on as an Assassin but even becoming the youngest Master Assassin ever did not save him. Following the semi-failed mission at Solomon's Temple, Altair is gifted to Malik as a reward for his service. Malik doesn't want Altair but he does not turn down the chance to show him his place."

A retelling of the first game if Altair was an omega, lost his assassin status, was summarily married off to Malik, and had to work around all that to still solve the mystery and save the day. Altair is truly the biggest badass in this story, and the historical perspective on an Omegaverse is truly neat.

Teach Me How to Fight (I'll Show You How to Win) by Skalidra Fandom: Batman (DCU) "Dick is taken by the Court after his parents' death to be trained as a Talon. He becomes loyal, deadly, and the Court's primary Talon. At least until he meets a boy from the Court's secondary, darker kind of servant who gets assigned to be his partner, and makes him start to care about things other than serving the Court. Tim, a boy-genius member of the Court, could have told anyone who listened that pairing Talon with the other boy - Jason - was a poor decision, and the fact that the Grandmaster of the Court doesn't listen, at all, is something he's finding less and less tolerable."

I love this fic so much that it was my first attempt at fanfiction binding.

Oh, You Wondrous Creature by Ginia Fandom: Final Fantasy XV "Ignis Scientia had learned at a young age to perform his duties quietly and flawlessly. He learned not to draw undue attention to himself, as attention had often lead to pain and humiliation at the hands of those who considered themselves to be his betters.

He has no idea what to do when the attentions of one Gladiolus Amicitia are directed at him. He expects harshness and cruelty, but is met with something quite the opposite."

This is classic frenemies to lovers scenario. Ignis and Gladio start off disliking each other, but as Gladio uncovers more about the discrimination Ignis endures, he shapes up to be a friend, ally, and eventual lover for the steward.

Someone You Have To Let In by Arsenic Fandom: Batman (DCU) "Basically a horribly sideways BDSM-AU where Talia actually raises Jason from the dead to use him to get Damian to safety. If you're looking for super indulgent h/c, I got your back. If you're not, this is probably not the fic for you."

This was my introduction to the BDSM-AU, also called the Dom/sub AU, where people have biological imperatives towards either dominance or submission. The world building here is especially great, as there's parts that talk about how you raise kids in this kind of dynamic. Also I love me some Dick/Jason so there.

Holding Cell by red-catmander Fandom: Guild Wars 2 "Rytlock Brimstone is trapped in a human jail with a hairless mouse, a talking plant intent on infuriating him and a headache the size of the Black Citadel. Now he's stuck fighting in the arena, buying his freedom one slog at a time, and the only thing awaiting him when he gets out is scrapper duty.

He hates these people. He's sure of it. Especially Thackeray.

He really, really wants to hate these people."

Listen, this fic is hilarious. Like funnier than anything Snargle Goldclaw could write (if you know you know). It's Rytlock/Logan in like the crackiest way possible and while I unironically love this fic to pieces, it's main use in my life is to deal 1d6 of psychic damage to members of my GW2 guild.

Maan'alor - The Prime by papermachine Fandom: Star Wars (Prequel Trilogy Era) "Jango Vhett was Mand’alor only briefly to the Mandalorian Empire before he was captured by the Jetii and Republic forces on Galidraan.

Now an unwilling guest on Kamino, he is buir to Boba and he fears his protection can only stretch so far for the rest of the children made in his image. Jango doesn’t know if he can save all of the clones from the Kaminoans or the Republic, but he does know this: Verde sa akaan nau tracyn kad. Warriors are forged in the fires of war.

These children are made for war, and they have been fighting to stay alive since their creation.

He will do what he must to save them."

The series is ongoing, and this is technically the third installment in the series, but it's a great place to start reading. The series follows various characters in this AU where the Sith Empire, the Mandalorian Empire, and the Republic are all at war with each other. Meanwhile, an unwilling Jango is template to the clones, and he is NOT happy about is. But rebellions are built in secret, and Jango never was a very good spy.

hope has bloody knuckles by independent_variables Fandom: Star Wars (Clone Wars Era) "Davijaan discovers mountains, thinks about the war, and maybe falls in love."

I think some people are turned off from this fic because it's a relationship between Davijaan (Odd Ball) and an OC, but the main focus is on Davijaan and Cody's relationship with each other as clones, as having survived the Clone Wars with no Order 66. There's also some lovely word building around Pantora which is the real appeal of the fic, imo. And of course Loren herself is easy to like, with a strong personality and well developed character. You really want to root for her and Davi as the story goes on. Like, come on you two idiots! Figure it out! I do love this fic very much.

Oh my gosh picking only 10 fics was hard. Here's my bookmarks page if you want to see what else I'm reading.

[star-sara]

¡Nuevos ships canons de Candyverse!

──・──・・✧ ・・──・──

Cake!Nightmare x Juice!Dream

Marshmallow!Nadia x Cookie!Epic

──・──・・✧ ・・──・──

Cake!Nightmare, Juice!Dream, Cookie!Epic y Candyverse → me pertenecen

Marshmallow!Nadia → @kai-drawnarts

[checkoutmybookshelf]

The Boys are Back in Town

Most of the X-Wing series focused on either Wraith or Rogue squadron in their full capacities and on standard missions. That is NOT this book. This book focuses on Wedge Antillies, Wes Janson, Tycho Celchu, and Derek "Hobbie" Klivian as they slide inexorably from a diplomatic mission to something that Padme Amidala would unquestionably describe as "aggressive negotiations." Let's talk Starfighters of Adumar.

When you have a planet that has evolved outside of either imperial or republic influence that reveres pilots to an arguably unhealthy degree and you can't drag Luke Skywalker out of whatever he is currently doing, you get Wedge "I blew up two Death Stars, you don't scare me" Antilles. Wedge then puts together a crack team of his three best pilot buddies to hammer out a treaty between Adumar and the New Republic (I'd be LYING if I told you I was picturing anything other than Adam Sandler casting his best friends and taking them on epic vacations and incidentally making a movie for this bit).

As per usual, things go pear-shaped basically before they even get boots down on Adumar, because among its other problems, Adumar loves the HELL out of dueling. To the death. Usually with starfighters. Some asshole decides to try to increase his personal clout by shooting Wedge down as they fly in. This doesn't work, but hot damn does it set the tone...

The toxic dueling culture is not limited to snubfighters, however. Cheriss ke Hanadi (the undisputed queen of duels with blastswords) guides Red Squadron through the twists and turns of Adumari culture. That does not stop Wes from getting in a duel at the diplomatic reception, though. This duel is incredible because it's Wes giving an object lesson in how to humiliate the living hell out of an overly cocky opponent with a blastsword while functionally unarmed. This fight is glorious, and it's a beautiful follow-up to the "getting ready for the ball" scene our boys get to have where Wes lights up like a kid at Christmas when he discovers that blastswords are basically "blaster[s] that you have to hit people with."

Cheriss gets done a wee bit dirty by this book, because she basically develops a crush on Wedge, and when she finds out that he and Iella have gotten together, she sets herself up to get murdered by fighting a stupid number of duels in a row. The rest of Red Squardon steps in though, and as an added bonus, the New Republic medics give her a medication for her chronic vertigo to allow Cheriss to become a pilot. This series literally is not here for anyone who isn't a New Republic pilot, so I don't love Cheriss's arc, but honestly it could have been a lot worse, so I'm not complaining too hard.

The draw for this book though, is unquestionably the character work in our four protagonist pilots. The plot of the novel is pretty simple, all things considered, so Allston takes the opportunity to really dig into character for our boys, and getting to follow them on a somewhat nontraditional mission and using their skills as best they can is just FUN. As a friend says, this book is delicious candy fluff, and the characters are the candies.

Even when the mission goes directly to hell and Red Squadron has to run the gauntlet for their lives, the choices and twists and turns are largely character-driven. That makes what could have been a run-of-the-mill climactic escape into a really tense, well-constructed series of choices and consequences that are just FUN because of the characters who have been dropped into the situation.

There's objectively not too much substance to this book, but it ties Wraith Squadron as my favorite X-Wing book because of the character work and focus on the top four New Republic pilots. Plus, it's a little adorable that this is where Wedge and Iella really get together, and I am HERE for legends continuity legacy families.

[mochie85]

Mischief and Miracles

One-Shot Masterlist Complete Masterlist Secret Santa Masterlist

Summary: Loki has a special surprise for you. A/N: This is part of @fictive-sl0th Secret Santa Collection. Thank you love for setting this up. I'm sorry I went over the word limit. Word Count: 2k Pairing: Loki x Female Reader Warnings: Fluff, Angst, implied smut. Dividers by: @firefly-graphics

“Where are we going, my love?” you asked Loki following his footprints on the crisp clean snow.

“Would you stop trying to guess and let me surprise you?” he sighed stopping to reach back for your hand as he led you quietly through the thick woods.

“I bet I could make you tell me,” you pulled him back towards you and wrapped your arms around his waist, trailing soft kisses on the exposed parts of his jawline. You giggled as his hands squeezed your behind, hoisting you up as you kicked snow drifts from your boots.

“I know you can, you vixen. But you don’t want to ruin your surprise, do you? Come on. We’re almost there.”

He carried you forward. Your legs wrapped around his waist as your hands played with the scarf on the back of his neck. His greedy eyes never left yours. His smirk trying to tempt you to break your stare first.

“Can you even see where you’re going?” you teased him.

“I don’t need to, we’re here,” he smiled as he set you down. You turned around to see a clear dome-shaped tent nestled into the thick trees. The falling snow had covered the roof and piled onto the sides of the structure leaving a perfect 360˚ makeshift window of the outside forest.

Inside the tent glowed warm yellow light, inviting you from the cold. You could see through the window that there was a makeshift bed, bedecked with fluffy sheets and pillows, plaid blankets and cushions. Next to the bed was a low table decorated with small Christmas ornaments and candles. There were stacks of books and a serving tray of hot cocoa and candy canes all waiting to be devoured.

“Loki…” you started, reaching out to him.

“Do you like it? I’m sorry it’s not the grand cabin I would’ve conjured for you.” He felt a little embarrassed about it now. How could a measly tent ever compare to the grand lodge that you had pictured in your dreams? The ones he sees you crooning over whenever you see those romantic Christmas movies on television.

“I promise, my love, as soon as these shackles come off, I will shower you in luxury befitting an empress,” he stated. You looked down at his wrists, thin bangles of vibranium and technology melded together to tamper his magic. They would stay on as a reminder until Loki could prove that he was no longer a menace to society.

“That never mattered love. I don’t care to be an empress. I only care to be the woman you call, yours,” you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him into a passionate kiss.

You drew on his upper lip as he inhaled your sweet fragrance. Both of you moaned as your hands formed vices around each other. “It’s magical already. I love it. Thank you.” You whispered to his swelling lips.

“Come. I’ll show you inside.” Loki hurried you along the snowy path. Once inside, you were surprised to feel how warm it was. How the light from inside the tent, made the outside world vanish, and it was just you and your love, together in the woods.

Both of you lay in bed, your leg over his. His arm stroked your back as he held you close to his chest. His other hand held a book of Asgardian epics that he recited in his native tongue.

You couldn’t understand a word he said, but you didn’t need to. You could feel the growl of his deep baritone voice in his chest as he spoke. The vibration comforted you and made you snuggle up closer to him.

After a while, the last rays of twilight had left and Loki turned down the intensity of the lights around you. Your eyes adjusted as you looked up at the now clear tent and saw the brilliance of stars dusting the night sky.

“I have one more thing for you,” he whispered. His voice was as quiet as the snowfall.

“Loki!” you chided. “This was everything already. I can’t accept any more.”

“I know. But I wanted to.” He moved to leave your warmth and picked up something underneath the low table. You sat up to receive a small black box wrapped in an emerald bow.

Once you took the bow off, you opened the latch and a small figure skater began to twirl around. “A music box?!” you gasped. The small box began to chime Have Yourself A Merry Little Christmas. “Loki…” You looked up to see his beautiful eyes staring back at you.

“It’s for your bracelet. The one your mother gave you when she passed. I know you’re reluctant to take it off because you’re scared you would lose it. Now, you have a place to secure it whenever you need to,” he explained. “And it’s playing your favorite Christmas song too. It made me think of you when I saw it. So, I had to purchase it for you.”

The world got blurry. The sweetness of his thoughts and actions made you cry outright. “I can’t accept this,” you sobbed.

“What’s the matter? Don’t you like it?”

“I do, Loki. It’s such a beautiful present. But…”

“Then please keep it.” He wrapped his hands around yours, holding the box. You watched the skater turn around as the song tinkled in the air around you.

“Ok.” You smiled and gave him a chaste kiss on his lips as a thank you. “I have something for you too.”  You placed the music box carefully on the table, letting the sweet notes continue to play.

You rushed back to him from your backpack at the entrance and handed him a cloth-wrapped present. “Darling, you didn’t have to get me anything.” He smiled as he excitedly unwrapped your present. You giggled at his little act, knowing full well he loves receiving presents.

As soon as he unwrapped it, his eyes glazed over and his mouth opened to a small wonder. The black leather sheath was handcrafted and formed to fit his daggers perfectly. The blue sapphire adorning the front clasp matched his favorite daggers, the ones that Frigga had given him as a teenager. “It matches your daggers, see.” You pointed the blue stone out to him. “And it comes with a matching harness, so you can wear your daggers all the time. No doubt making everyone in the tower nervous around you,” you laughed. “Oh, the havoc you’ll cause.”

“My sweet girl,” he started. His eyes began to water as he tried to hold them in. “I shall treasure it forever. Thank you.” He kissed you on your lips and he held on to you tightly.

“Come on then. Let’s see your daggers, I wanna see if they fit.” You said as you pulled away from him.

“We can’t darling.”

“Why not? Don’t tell me you left it at the compound. You never go anywhere without them. Are they in your backpack? I’ll go get…” You stood up to retrieve them.

“No, they’re not in my backpack,” he said evenly, pulling you back down. “My empress. My darling girl.” He cooed as he secured you in his arms. You straddle him and wrapped your arms around his neck. He placed his head on the crook of your shoulder. “I do not have those daggers anymore.”

“Why not?” you asked pulling away from him. “Those were your favorite. They were a gift from your mother.”

Loki nodded and smiled, “I traded them. For something far more valuable,” he confessed. He took your hands away from his neck and held onto them, kissing your fingers. “Where is your bracelet?” he asked abruptly. He noticed it missing when his fingers traced your wrist.

You looked into his eyes as realization dawned on you. “I don’t have it anymore. I traded it for something far more valuable,” you whispered, echoing his words.

“Silly girl, and what could be more valuable than…” the single tear that fell on your cheek was telling. Loki knew what had happened. “You traded your bracelet for my sheath?”

“And you traded your daggers for my music box.” You cried even more. The gate that had held back your tears opened as a stream ran down your face and a hiccup began in your chest. “We can still return it. I’ll exchange my music box so you can get your daggers back.”

“Don’t you dare!” Loki said sternly.

“But Loki, it was from your mother.”

“And your bracelet was from your mother too.”

“So we keep the gifts that are useless to us?”

“No. We keep the gifts as a sign of the sacrifice we were both willing to make for each other. I have many daggers, my love. I will still be able to use your thoughtful gift. And every time you open your music box, I hope you will think of me. It will only be a matter of time before I get these dampening fetters off my wrist. And I will be able to fill that music box with all the bracelets and jewelry your heart desires.” He promised as he wiped the tears away from your face. You laughed at the thought.

“I don’t need them, Loki. Just you. Just like this.” You stayed in his arms. Content in your own little bubble as the snow continued to fall outside.

“I love you, dear heart, Happy Yuletide,” he whispered in your ear.

“And I love you, Loki. Merry Christmas.”

The first rays of dawn woke you first. You had slept comfortably inside the bubble tent. Laying in Loki’s arms as snow fell from the heavens. Your music box had stopped playing in the middle of the night, the small figure skater holding her pose. Loki’s sheath laying next to it.

You smiled to see that his daggers did fit the snug casing. The sapphire adorning the end of the handle matched perfectly with the small sapphires embedded into the cover.

Wait.

“Loki, wake up,” you pushed his shoulder aggressively.

“Oh, my sweet, sweet girl. You are insatiable! Even gods need respite.” He hummed. His early morning voice was tinged with sleep and arousal.

“Get up, Loki!”

“Only if you promise to do that thing with your tongue again,” he bargained, his voice still half asleep and his eyes still closed.

“I think someone’s been in our tent.” That sentence made him sit up faster and more alert. You gathered the blanket around you, covering your bare form. Loki got up as he wrapped a spare blanket around himself and looked around. The morning light was just trickling in through the branches. But otherwise, nothing had been amiss.

You pointed towards his dagger on the table, “Love, your daggers are back.” Loki came to examine his scabbard and was surprised to find that his dagger had returned. He pulled them out and examined them carefully, feeling the weight and balance. He searched for his mother’s initials on the base of the blade and found them etched along with his.

Curious, he reached for your music box and his eyes grew even wider. “Darling…” he murmured as he handed it to you. Inside was your tennis bracelet from your mother. The dainty piece shone brightly under the new morning light.

“How is this possible? Did you get your powers back?” you asked aloud. Loki lifted his arms towards you, showing you the thin vibranium bangle still adorning his wrists.

“Did anyone know about your gift?” Loki asked, his mind working through all the possibilities.

“Tony!” You yelled out. “I asked Tony to help me find a local pawn shop so I can sell my bracelet. He helped me get top dollar for it too.” You laughed, shaking your head.

“Stark helped me find the antique store where I traded my daggers and found your music box,” he said stretching back onto the makeshift bed on the ground. “That little scoundrel. I didn’t know he had any mischief in him.”

“That still doesn’t explain how it got inside the tent?” You said laying your chin on top of his shoulder. You looked into each other’s eyes as you both came to the same conclusion.

“Scott!” “Lang!”

A/N: I hope you liked this @gigglingtigger, Happy Holidays. Her words were Candy Cane, Footprints, and Unwrapped

@alexs1200 @a-witch-with-words @athalialaufeyson @britishserpent @cakesandtom @coldnique @crimson25 @el-zef @goldencherriess @holdmytesseract @holymultiplefandomsbatman @huntress-artemiss @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @immersed-in-mischief @kats72 @kellatron55 @kkdvkyya @ladyofthestayingpower @lokidbadguy @lokiprompts @lokisasgardianvampirequeen @lokisgoodgirl @lokisninerealms @lokischambermaid @loopsisloops @lucylaufeyson3 @luvlady-writes @michelleleewise @mischief2sarawr @muddyorbsblr @nopenottodayson @one-oblivious-nerd @ozymdias @peaches1958 @peachyjinx @salempoe @sarahscribbles @sarawr-reads @silverfire475 @springdandelixn @starktowerrooftop @tallseaweed @theaudacitytowrite @thedistractedagglomeration

[yridenergyridenergy]

2024/02/17 sukekiyo - Tsumetai Chinmoku live report (Day 2)

SETLIST

Houmonsha X

Gloss

The Hole

Mosaic Shoujo

Candis

Valentina

MOAN

Kuchi ni ringo

aftermath

Rongai na ikimono toshite

Kawattekuremasen deshou ka?

Scarlet

Tada, mada, watashi.

Hakudaku

Uso

Kokyuu

Margaret

I'll try to focus on the differences and what I had forgotten to include in yesterday's report.

The band's outfit were generally not only completely different from yesterday, but also from different references entirely, at least from what I could see. Takumi had his clothes from the MOAN music video, but Yuchi appeared to have bare shoulders with the partial long sleeves, so no trace of the puffy material that hid his skin in the previous photoshoots. No drooping pane of fabric behind his shoulders like yesterday, I think. UtA was definitely wearing something more square and formal. It reminded me of some of Japan's student uniforms, and he looked especially like a "bad boy" while wearing his guitar upside down during aftermath to focus on playing the violin-like instrument. His long hair was also styled completely toward his right in a vast mane. Mika may have been wearing the same black suit. As for Kyo, his outfit seemed like it was two pieces linked at the front of the abdomen, but there was definitely a large band of fabric missing which exposed his skin above his waist. He also had a long skirt with many vertical folds, and his hair and makeup were the same as yesterday. But what was most striking about his look was the sheer amount of pearl necklaces he had aroumd his neck and resting on his shoulders. It looked heavy as hell. Maybe it was literally the accessory he wore for Dir en grey's Ochita koto no aru sora PV? And hint for ranuunculus: it looked most badass overall when Kyo was bathed in red on his head and over his shoulders while white illuminated most of the lower portion of the necklaces.

Right away, it was clear that the mood for today's concert was different: Houmonsha X started and once again, very epic. I noted that Kyo dances tip-toeing widely left and right near the end of the song, while the music sounds like crawling and buzzing bugs, and he does this on a floor illuminated by collapsing diamonds, so it really gives the impression that he purposely plays along at trying to avoid stepping on the lights. Oh and at the very beggining of that song, Kyo crouched and swished his hips side to side, literally dusting off the floor. This time, Kyo sang the "Are those eyes scary? How are they scary?" in the demented way.

I don't know if I just didn't remember or if it changed, which will be a recurring theme in this report, but Gloss had not only the blinking alternating hanging lights, but big flashes of purple were projected from around Takumi's distance from the edge of the stage. Overall, it was a very emotional, but powerful and beautiful song that followed Houmonsha X's vibe well.

The Hole started next and my prayers for a different setlist were answered! It was so cool. The song starts with a video on screen with opaque red everywhere except one large hole left untouched, where Kyo stands. The hole grows progressively larger, in a corrupted way. It's so cool later when Kyo swiftly rotates from his left side to his right side, vice versa, along with the music, drawing a wide circle each time, and I think he gestured considering those options at some point.

Mosaic Shoujo! Another change from yesterday. Kyo waved his arm up and down wildly at us during "Ano hito janakyaya", only to retrieve his arm toward himself when wondering "How many more times?" Quite sure it was during this song that I noticed what move Kyo does to drop his knees repeatedly like in that Candis prologue that I gifed from the footage on Erosio. While keeping his toes on the same spot, he rotates his heels outward, like a lot of women do in Japan, which causes a drop and the motion has to be repeated to maintain balance anyway. Anyway, overall a very feminine demeanor.

Candis followed and I had at least thought of bringing my penlights this time. I noticed that on screen, dots of light made up a huge fake disco ball, at the beginning, but maybe I just missed that detail yesterday.

The medley of pop songs continued but it was a lot more seamless, less foreboding than that sequence had been yesterday. There was hope for less sorrow later, somehow.

Valentina was still just as perfect~

MOAN, why do you not have a penlight yet? Anyway, it seemed even cooler to watch Kyo make the song's gestures (pump up the ceiling, circle a finger around to come back to you; rinse and repeat but you never get bored of it!) while wearing that excessive layer of pearl necklaces.

Kuchi ni ringo, I forgot to mention yesterday that he kind of screeches the janai in: "Sono makka na iro janai" instead of singing it more with despair like in the studio recording. Confirmed that this is the song where the first floor is covered by an opaque layer of blue light. At the end, it's odd because while the lyrics say: "Ah I want a womb", Kyo moves the diamond shape formed by his fingers ouward in different directions along with the repetition of "hoshii, hoshii, hoshii", as though he in fact wanted to know who wanted it.

aftermath came and I definitely focused on UtA's badass pose with his right leg extended backward while he leans forwarf to play the violin-like instrument, allowing the guitar that he rolled to his back to resr on his leg.

The part during the session took place again today but the man appeared more assured now and was wearing a plain black long-sleeved shirt. Kyo also looked less stiff. He rested his left leg on his right one and I can't remember how his hands were positioned, maybe just on his lap, but that too was more casual than yesterday. Also, either I didn't notice because I was looking through binoculars then, but a zoomed-in projection of that scene plus Kyo's following improv for the instrumental session was played on screen. Maybe the video experienced trouble yesterday and only began working later?

For some reason, Rongai na ikimono toshite seemed to have a whole lot more projections than I remember it having yesterday. Not sure if they could whip up a new video in less than 24 hours. It involved not just fractals, but like an evolving kaleidoscope of structures like what you'd find in complex metallic beam structures on bridges. It helped to enhance the song's menacing and mysterious aura. And big, bright white lights get flashed toward us in time with the intense moments throughout the song.

Kawattekuremasen deshou ka? was the song that appeased my growing concern that I had misremembered or totally forgotten stuff from yesterday hah. The video played during this song was totally different. It features only large bubbles, like soap bubbles, of various colours. Each bubble was so large that it encompassed the entire band. In the first "Naze watashi dake honto no ai o shiranai?", I don't know if something was mispronounced or if I was too distracted, but it didn't sound like "honto no ai o", more like it could have been aibito? But the second one was sang as per the lyrics, so I put that behind.

Scarlet was the same as yesterday, with its imposing "I want you to kiss me" & "I want love" being the only two lyrics projected on screen. Maybe it's during that song's "Let's make the sound of love as I think of you" that Kyo slides a hand between his legs?

Tada, mada, watashi. appeared as much as a classic as yesterday. I think it's due to the bright lights being projected on us and the screen otherwise displaying very little, mostly just small lyrics in English at the bottom and shimmering white borders there and at the top of the screen, which may have been done with the intention of giving us the impression that the PV is being recorded live, that we're witnessing this historic moment.

There's a word shown vertically in red in the couple of seconds of suspense before the chorus. It's just hiragana but somehow I haven't been able to catch it yet! It might be "oyasumi"?

After a short break, Hakudaku started and I knew that the end was already upon us, too soon. Uso began without a single second of interruption too. And as the tradition goes, Kokyuu was played after those. There's always a very long pause before it begins, as though someone needs to regain their composure or something.

Yesterday, I must have used the binoculars at this point too much, but I noticed that way above his head, the video projected involved scenes of isolation. For example, a lone strawberry shortcake, clearly to celebrate something, first left unattended on a table. Then the chair and the table are empty. A woman appears, followed by an older version of herself. She's beautiful, but nobody else shows up around her. The cake is cut and consumed, in part.

Kyo sang the ending, and I was expecting him to leave like yesterday, a wet kind of dry after uttering the softest: "Kanashimi wa owaranai dare no tame?", but he surprisingly held onto his mic stand, although stepping out of the pink LED line to the side a bit. Seconds of silence until... Margaret started! Some mercy. That song, although its lyrics are sad, counted as an "un deux" in this context thanks to its uplifting melody.

The credits were rolled on screen while the band performed.

Kyo left before the song's last few notes were played, essentially immediately after the last lyrics. We were less shy to start clapping after Margaret was properly finished, compared to yesterday at the end of Kokyuu. It was the instrumental of Zephyr that was played tonight as the other members left the stage. Mika peeked at us from atop his drums but I don't think he waved like he did yesterday, so it might have been a prompt to wake us up and start clapping, yesterday hah.

Three times during the concert, there was a weird, faint sound like "woaaan" at the end of songs, which was super obvious because we were all quiet. I didn't hear that at all yesterday. Maybe it seemed to coincide witn Takumi dragging his chair toward his keyboard to adjust his distance from it?

So far: man, I've rarely heard bass and drums hammer at our very molecules this much. Every single one of Yuchi's notes is a tidal wave crushing straight through us.

Now, which of the two setlists, or a secret third one, will the 20th have?

[cbsghostsmetasandtrevor]

Season 3 x 5

I'm hoping this one's good but last episode left big shoes to fill...

With that, live reaction below.

Starting off right when they take the body away. Thor is excited about telling the story of watching his body decay.

Jay OMG.

HETTY you're not helping.

Oh, Pete's such a good guy. Laughing at the Donut Holes. LMAO.

LMAO - Trevor "Epic" to his body being found.

YOU DON'T NEED to borrow the money from Isaac. It's YOUR money.

TREVOR! telling on Jay.

Founding Farter???

WHY TREVOR?? You're not helping? (Although I do like Isaac listening to him). 'cause he's right - bad business people.

Trevor didn't go to Warton. He went to Penn.

LOL - no they aren't. I might be able to like this episode.

NANCY! Love the ghost dating.

Carol asking Pete if he's dating someone? OMG.

Hetty/Sass wanting to know what's in her purse. They are hilarious.

DONT LIE AGAIN. (Didn't you learn the last time?). I do like Carol assuming that it's okay to move on and being happy for him.

PETE getting mad about this. "I SERVED MY TIME."

THOR! OMG.

LMAO - Jay is right. BUT OMG Isaac walking in on that.

Nose candy? OMG THIS SASS/HETTY SL. I LOVE IT.

Also you can only touch things when the same person touching it - how does that work for HMONEY????

AWWWW Alberta! DAMN ALBERTA. He was so thinking that.

OH FUCK TREVOR. You put in it a brokerage account.

ALSO why does it take him so long some times and not long other times?? Wouldn't the computer time out??

ALSO "WE KNOW TREVOR."

OMG $200,000 - I love it. WAIT FUCK. OMG Trevor made them ALOT OF MONEY.

NO NO NO. Isaac, it's HER MONEY.

Or Trevor's Money since he did the work.

Trevor's impressed.

OMG Pete - THIS IS WHY YOU DON'T LIE.

OOOOOH PETEEEE.

I'm DYING. This is terrible.

Ohhhhhh, Carol is like "I don't know from experience." Yes, you do.

A cat magnet???

I do like this solution. I mean, like Isaac should realize that THEY OWE HIM NOTHING.

URINATING ON THE FLOOR????

"Isaac's House of Horse Pie?"

YES JAY STAND UP FOR THINGS!

OKay, NOT A REAL PERSON?? That's a bit far.

He did deserve to be stepped through. BUT PLEASE DON'T CAVE.

He took a bath in tomato sauce?

I don't think that's fair to Jay AT ALL.

Unclogging videos?

"In my experience... logistics." Oh, god.

Alberta calling him hot stuff.

I do like that Pete's finally standing up for himself to Carol. I love Pete! He's finally doing it. That he's told her that he knows about the affair (which she should've realized) and that it was all faked with Alberta/Nancy. It also explains why he doesn't say anything about his feelings for Alberta PRIOR to that first episode with Carol even if it was obvious.

OMG Hetty/Sass and Candy. - DAMN. Might be my favorite side plot.

Sass - they choose Higginstoot????

Awww Isaac's Table. For Isaac and his friends.

Love Hetty calling it a terrible business decision.

Isaac- LMAO.

Awwww that was sweet. I do like the ghosts being about to be surrounded by people and smells again - They were missing some friends though. Alberta? Pete? Nigel (his fiancé?)

HOLY SHIT - this is an Alberta fantasy yes? or or is that his power??? I'm Curious WTF.

YOU CAN'T END LIKE THAT!

I'm screaming.

OVERALL Good Episode after all.

Come Talk to Me People!

[just-an-anon-reader]

Turtle Treaters

Summary: It’s the night of trick or treating. And everyone is going. Even you and your boyfriend.

P.S: Hello! It’s been awhile. School has been so hectic. But with the holidays is no classes! Here’s a Halloween themed rottmnt x reader to celebrate my favorite holiday of the year (second to New Years). Enjoy!

P.P.S: This will be a two parter (or else it’ll be too long) and it’ll be coming out soon!

New York City was blanketed in a cold, November darkness. Streets and alleyways echoed with the frightful screams of children as monsters and ghouls walked alongside them. Tonight is a night of terror. Tonight...is HALLOWEEN!

"It's really hard to feel the spoops when you're dressed like a giant pumpkin." Leo said, bored out of his mind. He flicked away an imaginary pizza crumb from his Lou Jitsu costume as he turned his attention back to the Jupiter Jim comic in his lap.

"It's a Jack-o-lantern, Leo. Respect the costume." Mikey huffed, strutting his stuff. But with how bulky his costume was, his strutting looked more like waddling. Like an orange-colored penguin rather than a fashion statement.

Halloween, much like Comic-Con, was one of the few occasions when the gang could go out onto the New York streets undetected. After all, who would notice four teenage mutant ninja turtles in a sea of costumed kiddos hungry for free candy. And like these kiddos, these teens were geared up and ready for some candy hunting of their own. Raph in his wrestling outfit, Leo as Lou Jitsu, Donnie as Jupiter Jim, and Mikey as a jack-o-lantern. Costume rights were decided through an epic skateboard battle with obvious winners. Spoilers, it was Leo for first and Donnie for second. All that's left is for you, April, Sunita, and Cassandra to show up at the meeting spot. Which was the lair. And you were taking forever.

“Where are they? At this rate, we're gonna miss the Halloween candy discounts!"

"Keep it down, Leo. They'll be here. April already texted, right?" Raph said, looking to Donnie for confirmation.

"Yes, she said the group was en route exactly five minutes ago."

Right on cue, a loud clang sounded. Followed by the shuffling of multiple feet sounded from the lair entrance. From the shadows came April in her Alberto suit. Sumira in her slime form. Cassandra, wearing her usual foot clan uniform with the addition of her ski mask as a costume. And you...

Raph

You thought you could borrow his hippo mascot suit for Halloween. And although it was twice your normal size, a few Bobby pins here and there did the trick. If you thought it was cute, your boyfriend definitely thought it was cuter. The fluffiness of the hippo suit plus your fluffy character made for an extra serving of fluff all around. He could feel the heat of his flushed face at the sight of you in his precious hippo suit.

"So this is why you asked to borrow the suit." Raph said with a chuckle, as you gave him a little twirl and posed for effect.

"Looks good, doesn't it? I had to poke a few holes here and there. Seriously, how did you get that big? But don’t worry, I'll make sure to keep her clean from candy stains." Your voice came out slightly muffled from the material.

"I’m sure you will darlin’." Raph smiled endearingly as he placed a kiss on your hippo snout with a soft ‘chu’.

Leo

You walked in wearing a slick black suit, your features sharp and elegant with your hair swept back. When Leo’s eyes fell on you, he felt his heart stop. You were always an eye-catcher, but something about the suit just did things for him. Sauntering over, you gently traced a finger on his jaw and pushed it closed.

...wait, it was open?

"Like what you see?"

"Babe, you’re on fire~" Leo gulped, internally trying to kick-start his awestruck heart.

"Ah but you haven’t seen it yet." Leo made a confused face as you turned your attention to Mikey, who sat closest to the wall, and said, "Kill the lights for me, Mikey, will you?"

"Sure"

When the lights went out, you glowed. Neon blue lit your face in intricate designs. Curving lines and blooming flowers pattern your cheeks in pure Calaveran style. You called Mikey to flick the lights back on and smirked when you saw the expression on your boyfriend’s face.

"I may or may not have asked Don Suave for some advice."

"That’s hot..."

"You mean it’s extra." April butted in.

"You mean it’s super fly." You retorted.

Donnie

"ATOMIC GAL?! You dressed up as ATOMIC GAL?!!"

"Yes, made by yours truly. It’s quite brilliant, is it not?"

Now, we all know Donnie isn’t exactly a man of togetherness. He was more open to physical affection with you, but only by an itty-bitty fraction. You both haven’t even moved past holding hands. So when Donnie darted towards you, arms wide open. And then proceeded to lift you by the hips and spin with you in a tight embrace, you were as stiff as a plank. Not because you didn’t enjoy it. No, you were more than willing to level up from hand-holding. Some time for mental preparation would've been nice though. You thought to yourself when Donnie set you down and suddenly did something you never thought HE would initiate.

Your hand still in his, he chuckled charmingly and said, "You look absolutely ravishing my dear." placing a soft kiss on your palm.

You felt your brain shortcircuit as you flushed red from your neck to your ears. You tried to thank your boyfriend, but all that left your mouth were incoherent and broken noises. Finding your reaction undeniably adorable, he placed another kiss on your other palm.

Mikey

The moment you both saw each other, you both were over the moon.

"Ohmigosh! You're a jack-o-lantern too?!" You both said at the same time, as you each examined each other's pumpkin costume.

"Great, so we got two vegetables now," Leo whined in the background completely ignored by the two idiots in love completely enamored with each other's couple costume.

“I LOVE the design of your jack-o-lantern! Wait, is that paper mache?”

“Bingo baby! Took me a week to make. Is that crochet?”

“With over 10 balls of yarn and 2 weeks, this masterpiece was born.”

“Woah! It’s beautiful~ Wait! Babe, we need a selfie!”

Pulling his phone from somewhere in his costume, Mikey pulled you close by the hips and stuck out his tongue for a pose. You, in turn, wrapped your arms around his neck, and right before he pressed the shutter, you pressed your lips to his cheek in a side kiss. All the camera got was you kissing your boyfriend whose face was red and blurry from when he turned to face you.

…

"Ugh, enough with the smooches already! We're gonna miss the candy sale at this rate." Leo whined, low-key throwing a tantrum at this point.

" Alright, alright. Everyone to the-“

“To the Turtle tank!"

Cue cartoon transition.

[utmv-fandom-birthdays]

ALL BIRTHDAYS/ ANNIVERSARIES SCHEDULED (UPDATED WITH EACH NEW ADDITION)

feel free to send me an ask with your sans and their birthday (Or just @ me or DM me) for a birthday wish OR anniversary of the creation of an au/ multiverse >:)

(especially if their birthday is in January, May, July, or September)

JANUARY

7th- Dancetale anniversary

16th- Horrortale anniversary

26th- Lusts birthday

February

2nd- Goth

9th- candy

10th-Sci

10th-Dust

14th- Greaser

27th- Slash

29th-Core!Frisk

MARCH

5th- Gradient

5th- Dreamtale anniversary

12th- Protector!Dream

13th- Fatal Error

15th- Blueprint

23rd- Molten!Dream Twins

23rd- Undertale Demo Anniversary

23rd- Underverse anniversary

APRIL

1st- Classic

1st- Underworld

1st- Xshift sans

3rd- Epic

3rd-Template

3rd- Temmie Chang

4th- Error

15th- ink

15th- Outer

17th- Swap/ Blue

17th- Pale and Template anniversary

20th- Fresh

MAY

10th- Killer

13th- Birdtale sans

26th- Pale

JUNE

1st- lavender

4th- ccino

12th- Flare

13th- Raven

20th- Figmentverse anniversary

23rd- Epic (again)

JULY

26th-Palette

AUGUST

4th- Horror

6th- Geno

7th- Shattered Dream

17th- Gaster Sans

27th- Vanta Black

SEPTEMBER

11- Reaper

15th- Undertale anniversary

OCTOBER

1st- PJ

1st- Thistle

10th- Cross

10th- Jael Peñaloza

11th- Toby Fox

12th- Acrylic

17th- Underfell anniversary

21st- Underswap anniversary

31st- Deltarune anniversary

NOVEMBER

9th- Blueberror

10th- Anxiety Sans

11th- X Gaster

DECEMBER

4th (maybe) Reaper

12th- Ganz

12th- Aster

20th- Error404

21st- Dream

21st- Nightmare

24th- Christmas party au anniversary

[magicshopaholic]

Epic (Taehyung x OC)

Summary: You ponder the wisdom of giving your ex-boyfriend a second chance.

Pairing: Taehyung x OC

Genre: Smut, angst

Word count: 8.7 K

Rating: 18+

Warnings: language, making out, unprotected sex

A/N: Set two weeks after Trials and Temptation. Recommended to re-read Weekend Story before reading this.

Tagging: @bbl32 @quarter-life-crisis2 @dreaming-with-happiness @faearchives @margopinkerton @purpleseoul7 @kflixnet (drop a message if you want to be added)

Listen to: “shinunoga e-wa” by fujii kaze

taehyung masterlist | main masterlist

It’s a lot colder than it should be this time of the year.

Clutching the mug close to her chest and trying to inhale the steam from it, Dilara shivers slightly in the open air of her balcony. Suzuka was colder - or maybe it felt that way because of the rain. Drenched to the bone, her skin feeling like ice, she recalls the faces in the crowd, many of which she was sure she was seeing for the last time.

A cold gust of wind blows and she shivers again. London is much colder than it should be. Or maybe it just feels that way.

It hasn’t rained yet today, fortunately; if she’s lucky, the sun might show its sorry face for a few minutes tomorrow afternoon. Dilara rubs her eyes tiredly and takes a sip of the hot coffee, letting it coat her throat. The jetlag has been creating havoc with her system, but despite that, she hasn’t been able to sleep since she returned last night, for obvious reasons. 

For the first time in months, she feels relaxed. Not physically, not even mentally - but her heart feels lighter, steadier than it has in ages, a sign of having done what’s right for her. There’s a word for this feeling, but it escapes her for the moment.

Dilara closes her eyes in the face of the chilly breeze. If she closes them tight enough, she can almost feel his arms come around her shoulders.

—

Suzuka, Japan (Two days earlier)

The candles crackle and the tiny flames morph into sparks. The cake glows for a moment before she blows them out to a cheer from the whole team.

“Happy birthday, Dilara!” 

“Happy birthday, Komyshan! Special weekend for it!”

“Love you, Dilara!”

The wishes from the team and the crowd of fans behind them are chaotic but sweet; extremely aware of the cameras, Dilara makes sure to wave and thank each person. She can’t eat the cake and she knows the team will understand; she gingerly picks a small piece of candy and bites the corner, hoping it will suffice.

It won’t last long, she knows. Another year older means only that: a year older, and a year closer to retirement. By the time pre-Qualifying formalities begin, no one will remember or care that it’s her birthday; it will be just her car and her Qualifying position that will matter.

Dilara prefers it that way. Her friends aren’t here and neither are her parents, and while Daniel Ricciardo had been sweet enough to have a cake with an unflattering picture of her own face on it sent to her garage while he cackled for the cameras at the McLaren garage, she would rather focus on nothing but racing this weekend.

Racing and the other thing, she thinks wryly as the cameras move away. From across the garage, she spots another spot interview taking place: a Japanese journalist, three members of a boyband and a group of fans in a circle around them with their phones out.

As if on cue, Taehyung catches her eye from over the journalist’s head. She doesn’t look away; it’s the closest they’ve come to finding a moment alone all weekend. For once, it’s not been on purpose.

At a quarter past midnight, a knock on her door revealed Jimin, brandishing a pink cardboard box and singing Happy birthday at the top of his voice, sounding angelic as ever. From behind him, Jungkook and Hoseok also appeared and they all barged into her suite, with Taehyung bringing up the rear. He was singing, too, albeit less dramatically, and looking thoroughly amused at his friends more than anything. He’d met her gaze and shrugged, as though telling her to just enjoy it

“Cupcakes!” Jimin revealed with a flourish and a sparkling smile. “Just like last time in Suzuka.”

Dilara didn’t know immediately why her heart skipped a painful beat. Maybe it was how casually he’d referred to last time in Suzuka, the weekend everything had begun once and for all; two years ago, this city, this circuit, this hotel, and all the memories that accompanied it. She saw Taehyung from the corner of her eye as well, gaze falling and biting his lip.

They didn’t stay for long; Dilara hoped to get a moment alone with Taehyung - for what, she wasn’t sure. She wasn’t angry, she wasn’t hurt; it just felt as though the significance of Suzuka - Suzuka - was something only he understood. Unfortunately, Max, Charles and Daniel arrived at her suite then and the moment was gone. The members had hugged her one by one and left, Taehyung’s lingering for a moment longer.

Across the garage, dressed in a Louis Vuitton jacket and dark brown slacks, his hair long and elegantly falling on his forehead, he looks just as handsome as he had two years ago. 

It occurs to her with a jolt that this was exactly where they’d met for the first time. It had been a handful of members only then, too; she’d noticed the tall one with the cheekbones who had a gaze that pierced her. They hadn’t exchanged a single word, but it had been instantly electric.

The sky is overcast by the time Qualifying begins; thankfully, it doesn’t rain. It’s cold and windy but the adrenaline is in her veins, spurring her on in one of the most difficult tracks on the calendar. Two cars crash out and Max gets a penalty for an unsafe release from the pit lane, leaving Dilara to zoom ahead and cross the finish line with the best lap she’s ever driven. 

“How was that?” she asks into the radio immediately, braking slightly. The lights on her dashboard indicate that she’s stayed within track limits and the crash hasn’t resulted in a yellow flag, meaning her lap time wouldn’t have been deleted which would mean…

“That’s pole position, Dilara!”

“Yes! Yes!” Her own screams are mirrored by the team’s in the background, with Christian coming up on the radio.

“Congratulations, birthday girl,” he says in his trademark dry voice, but even she can detect the rare happiness in it. “Fabulous drive. Front row lock out.”

Even the fact that Max’s penalty still only brought him down to P2 doesn’t bother her; P1 in Suzuka, both Red Bulls at the front of the grid for the race tomorrow is better than she could’ve hoped. She parks and climbs out of the car, taking off her helmet and feeling the cool wind hit her instantly. The interviews have begun; P3 first, then P2 and then pole.

While she waits, hugging her team members as she passes, she does a double take when she spots her ex at the far end of the garage. Taehyung is beaming at her; this smile is one she hasn’t seen in a long time and she can’t help but return it. He can’t approach her with these many cameras around but it only makes her more determined to seek him out later today.

The official end to the Red Bull and BTS partnership is celebrated by a typical dinner at the hotel, a small, casual affair that Dilara knows will end early - or that she and Max, at least, can leave early. There are a few pictures, some multi-lingual toasts, but primarily an excuse for both parties to squeeze out one last night of PR.

“Why do you look so worried?” Jungkook sidles up to her without warning, two glasses of whiskey in his hand. “Do you need a drink?”

Dilara jumps slightly, standing up straighter from where she’s leaning against the French doors. “I’m not worried,” she says automatically.

“Your face looks worried.”

“That’s just my face. And I can’t drink; I have to race tomorrow.”

“Oh.” Jungkook stares at both glasses. “I’ll have to finish these myself, I guess.”

She frowns. “Since when do you drink whiskey?”

“I - Namjoon hyung said this is a good brand,” he answers earnestly. “He really likes it so I thought I’d - I’d try one. And if I hate it, I don't want to be the only one hating it,” he adds after a moment, pursing his lips self-consciously.

Dilara looks over at Namjoon a little way away standing with a couple of suits, Yoongi and Taehyung. Confirming Jungkook’s insight, he’s holding a glass of whiskey, looking appropriately enthusiastic with the stakeholders he’s talking to. 

Once again, as if on cue, Taehyung catches her eye and flashes her a small, private smile from across the garden. With one hand in the pocket of his slacks and the other holding an identical glass of whiskey, he looks taller and more adult than she can remember him in a long time.

She doesn’t realise she’s smiling back until Jungkook nudges her.

“Hey, Dilara, are you listening?” He clicks his tongue. “What do I do with the second whiskey?”

“Oh. Um -” She shakes her head, having lost track of what they were talking about. “Right. The whiskey. Maybe Jimin will like it,” she suggests, as the aforementioned member saunters up to them, blond hair glowing in the dim lighting outside.

“Jimin?” Jungkook wrinkles his nose and turns to him. “What about Jimin says he might like whiskey?”

“Okay, wow.” Jimin snatches one of the glasses and sniffs at it, automatically gagging. “I mean, it’s… strong. But I like whiskey,” he insists.

“No, you don’t…”

Dilara recognises this as her cue to exit this conversation and subtly begins walking up to where Taehyung’s conversation has just ended. She takes a few steps and immediately turns around, her heart hammering against her ribcage. 

“You know what,” she interrupts their bickering and takes the glass from Jimin. “Maybe I will take this.”

She takes a small sip and winces, but turns back around, hoping some liquid courage will do the trick. Most unfortunately, she’s accosted by a member of BTS’s team who tells her what a pleasure it was working with her.

“Oh! Of course, I - thank you, so much,” she stutters, taken a bit off guard.

“And congratulations on your race today,” she gushes.

“Qualifying, but - thank you so -”

“And happy birthday!”

Dilara continues to nod vigorously and pour out thank you after thank you, noticing from over her shoulder how Taehyung continues to maintain eye contact, looking amused. It’s unfair how handsome he looks; the long black hair, the simple black and white outfit - he looks like a dream, and Dilara finds herself wondering more and more if she shouldn’t just… leave things the way they are. A tentative, more or less amicable ending to this weekend might just be preferable to whatever is sure to ensue if they actually end up talking to each other.

But it’s Suzuka and the part of her that treasures the memories of that weekend more than anything won’t settle for such a half-hearted ending.

It seems impossible to navigate a moment alone with him, though, so Dilara eventually gives up, thinking it’ll happen when it has to. Towards the end of the night, when she’s sitting on one of the steps of the garden and looking out near the clearing where they had spent this exact night two years ago, Taehyung joins her.

“Hey,” he says, taking a seat next to her. It’s close enough that his cologne - Christian Dior Sauvage, she remembers with a jolt in her heart - wafts over, feeling like an invisible arm he’s put around her. “Happy birthday.”

Dilara clinks her glass with his empty one. “Thanks.”

“I didn’t know if I should get you anything.”

“That’s okay,” she says, realising only now that she’s glad he didn’t. “I’m not a huge fan of birthdays anyway.”

“Also, I’m not sure what I could get you that’s better than pole position.” Taehyung leans back on his hands, his jacket falling open just slightly, and nods appreciatively. “Congratulations. You were amazing.”

She feels her cheeks heat up as she smiles back. “Thanks. As you can see, I’ve been celebrating with the same glass of whiskey for, like, an hour and a half now.” She holds it up, the golden liquid swirling around at the bottom of the glass. 

“Well, that’s perfect,” he says seriously, “because the bar just closed.”

“Help yourself.”

He grins and takes the glass from her, finishing the drink in one smooth swig and placing it on his other side. “How have you been?”

Insane with worry at what’s going to happen. Dilara shrugs. “Okay. Suzuka is always stressful. Hey, tell me something,” she says quickly, looking deliberately at the ground. “Why are those guys staring at us like we’re about to explode?”

Taehyung glances over before turning back. “Want me to get rid of them?”

She bites her lip. “Irrespective of what our issues are,” she says softly, teasingly, “I’m not sure you can take Jungkook.”

He frowns, a little affronted. “I know other ways to get rid of Jungkook.”

She chuckles, watching Jungkook’s eyes widen when he realises he’s been caught staring. “That’s okay.” Getting rid of them won’t quite give her what she wants, not in Suzuka.

“Do you want to go for a drive?”

—

They slip out without any fuss; the dinner is winding up in any case and Max has already left. Without any need for discussion, they head exactly where they had the last time to rent a hotel car for a few hours.

Taehyung flashes the hotel employee a heart-stopping grin and effortlessly catches the key when he tosses it to him. He says something in Japanese and is about to open the driver’s door when Dilara slides in front of him and swipes the key out of his hand.

“You’ve been drinking,” she reminds him, brushing against him as she turns around and ducks into the car, waiting for him to climb in from the other side.

“I almost forgot,” he admits in a low voice, strapping himself in. “Uh-oh,” he mutters, looking at something and raising his eyebrows, “we’ve been spotted.”

Dilara leans over to look in the same direction to see Jimin whispering something to Hoseok before both of them burst into laughter.

“Damn it,” she mutters. “Our position has been compromised.”

“We need to get out of here.” Taehyung fixes her with a look and nods once. His features are angular as ever, his long hair obscuring his forehead. “Before they catch up to us.”

“Roger that.” Dilara moves the gear shift sharply and reverses out of the parking lot. “Keep a lookout, will you?”

He turns around as she drives out, head low and eyes narrowed. “They’re on our tail. Can you pick up the speed?”

“Can I ever,” she mutters, accelerating and smoothly speeding down the exit route and reaching the gate of the hotel. “Okay,” she says, as the guards move to slowly open the gates, “this isn’t helping.”

“Of course.” Taehyung nods. “They’re working for them.”

“Stalling us. It’s genius.”

“The gates are open. Go!” he exclaims suddenly. “We have to lose them!”

Dilara bites her lip, trying not to break character, and swerves out of the hotel, driving faster than she normally would. But Suzuka is a small city and the streets are empty so late at night; fuelled by Taehyung’s constant low chatter, partly in English and Korean, she races out of the block until they hit the highway.

“This car is lower on fuel than I thought,” she notes after a while. “We should stop soon. It’s late and I don’t think we want to stop at a petrol station…?”

“No, we don’t. I don’t think it’s the kind of PR our teams are looking for.”

Dilara chuckles and pulls over, a little way away from a small row of pubs, a couple of food stalls and what is ultimately a petrol station.

“Just for an emergency,” she says when he gives her a questioning look as they get out of the car. “I don’t think we can get Namjoon to rescue us this time.”

Taehyung laughs. “Probably not.” He runs his hands through his hair and tilts his face towards the breeze. “I think it’s going to rain. Smells like rain.”

“With my luck, it’ll probably rain right during the race,” she grumbles before shaking her head. “Nope. No psyching yourself out, Dilara.”

He raises an eyebrow but doesn’t comment on it. “Are you hungry? They’re selling Yakisoba over there,” he says, pointing to the food stalls.

“Um…” Dilara’s stomach rumbles a little. “I can’t,” she answers in disappointment. “Race day tomorrow. But if you get some, I’ll have a bite,” she offers with a radiant smile, giggling when he gently flicks her forehead and goes over to the stall.

He returns in a few minutes with a bowl of noodles and a tiny box of desserts, already inhaling the former and frowning deeply.

“Too spicy,” he gasps, immediately dropping the bowl in her hands and fanning his mouth. He doubles over and wheezes dramatically until Dilara nudges him.

“Seriously? So dramatic, Tae. Here, have one of these.” She pulls him to the side and sits on the sidewalk, tugging him down beside her. Placing the noodles on the ground, she opens the other box. “It should help.”

Taehyung takes a bite from her hand and chews it slowly, eyes fluttering shut as though he’s just consumed a drug. “Almost died,” he coughs, reaching for the noodles again. “Sure you don’t want a bite?”

“Are you sure you do?”

“I didn’t eat a lot at the hotel.”

“Fine, just -” She offers him the rest of the cake-type chocolate-filled thing so he can take another bite. “Eat them together.”

“Apart from the death spice, it’s pretty good,” he says through a mouthful of noodles.

“I’ll take your word for it.”

“One bite? Just a mushroom?”

“Oh, go on, then…”

He picks up a dainty little mushroom with his chopsticks and feeds it to her, simultaneously taking the last bite of the dessert. They share the meal like this until they’ve polished everything off, except for the last few pieces of the sweets. They aren’t very sugary and Dilara finds she doesn’t mind them very much.

“So,” she begins after a while, dusting off her hands, “what do you guys have for after this weekend? Once the PR thing is over?”

Taehyung’s eyes flicker for a moment. “Nothing much. We have a week off, thankfully.”

“Any plans?”

“Nope.” He pops a whole sweet into his mouth. “You?”

“Me, too.” She stretches and leans back on her hands. “A whole weekend off before Brazil. God, I can’t wait to do absolutely nothing all day.” She sighs happily when she remembers something. “Except Lexie is going to be back this week. She’s going to kill me at the gym,” she groans, falling back on the sidewalk with her hands on her face.

“And I’m the dramatic one? I thought you were looking forward to having her back,” he remarks, casually pulling her arm to help her back up.

“Of course I am,” she says, rolling her eyes. “She was supposed to be back this week but she has some stuff with her mom to sort out and…” She sighs hugely. “I don’t want to get in the way of that.”

“Makes sense,” he says, nodding and examining another sweet. “It can’t be easy to go through all that with the hospital and the insurance company. Plus with her dad back, it must be even harder to figure it out with divorced parents and all.” He looks up at her incredulous expression. “What?”

“How do you know any of those things?”

Taehyung is silent for a moment before shrugging. “You talk to my friends,” is all he says.

None of this makes any sense to Dilara. “You’re talking to Lexie?”

“Oh, no. No, no.” He shakes his head and chuckles disbelievingly. “Lexie hates me. I think.” He shrugs uncomfortably. “I’m a little terrified to ever talk to her again. No, I was talking to Chris.”

“Chris?” The last memory of Taehyung and Chris floats through her mind, of both of them at each other’s throats, ready to whip out their dicks. “What - how? Wait, why? Don’t you two hate each other?”

He gives her an unimpressed look. “No. Not everything’s about you, Lara.” He grins when she slaps his shoulder. “We have other things in common. For example, he’s also very confused about what to do for his girl’s birthday.”

She ignores the belated beat her heart skips. “Really? Lexie’s birthday isn’t for another month - you’re telling me Chris is already thinking about it? You’re telling me Chris actually remembers her birthday?” Dilara scoffs. “He wished me an hour ago, and only because he saw Red Bull’s post on Instagram.”

“Yeah, but he has feelings for Lexie,” he says nonchalantly. “He won’t admit it but it’s, like… quite obvious. I told him to give her space and let her come to him.”

“You and space,” she mutters, rolling her eyes. “I can’t believe you and Chris are talking about guy stuff. And I can’t believe you’re giving him advice,” she adds, jabbing him in the shoulder.

“He’s the one taking it.”

“Fair enough.” 

Dilara observes him for a moment, admiring how effortlessly his hair falls. Her own is a mass of thick, random waves; the weather in Suzuka this time of year makes it pointless for her to style her hair. Without thinking, she brushes his bangs out of his eyes. “Will you come to the race tomorrow?”

“If you want.”

“Okay, stop that.” 

“Stop what?”

“That,” she repeats. “Tell me what you want to do. Stop telling me what you think I want to hear.” She looks at her shoes, noting how his gaze is still trained on her. “Not here. Not tonight,” she murmurs, swallowing. “Tonight, just… just be you.”

Taehyung is silent for a moment and Dilara wonders if she’s ruined the mood, the rare, relaxed mood between them. She’s put it out there as explicitly as she could without saying it in exactly those words, how the clock is winding down and their future is hazy at best.

“I want to come,” he says, nodding. “I’ll be there.”

She nods back and he gives her a small smile. It feels marginally colder now; Dilara eyes Taehyung’s designer jacket, wishing she’d had the foresight to wear two layers. But then again, none of this was planned.

“Will you be okay?” she asks in a small voice, but she looks up at him. She needs to look at him for this. “If we don’t…”

It’s clear from how Taehyung stiffens that he needs no further elaboration. He swallows and exhales, a little shakily. 

“Uh… probably not. For a while. But I’ll get there,” he adds, making an attempt at a reassuring smile that seems more sad than anything. “I know it’s probably… I mean, I know I -” He breaks off and bites his lip, looking away. “It won’t be… a total surprise,” he finishes.

So he’s made his peace with it. Dilara waits for the anger she’d felt two weeks ago in Singapore, the absolute devastation and fear at the thought of Taehyung not finding this worth fighting for anymore. It doesn’t come, though; it’s only a hard, bittersweet relief that maybe, just maybe they’ll both be okay eventually.

She tries to picture what that would be like. No talking, no texting. Seeing only glimpses of him on YouTube and Instagram in his public persona because anything more would be too painful. Thinking about each other less frequently, swiping through their photos on the occasional trip down memory lane. 

She feels her jaw clench and her vision blur slightly. Never feeling each other again. One day, dating someone else. Falling in love, getting married. Seeing only another face for the rest of their lives.

It feels like a fever dream, like an intrusive thought that’s too absurd to be real. Is this why she’d suggested a drive away from the hotel? Was it for a few moments alone or was it to help her make the decision she’s been struggling with for weeks now?

“Let’s go get some lemonade.”

Taehyung’s voice brings her out of her depressing train of thought. Her heart still feels heavy; lemonade is quite literally the last thing she wants right now.

“Tae,” she starts to say, shaking her head, but he waves her off.

“Come,” he says, sounding a lot better than she feels. “Before it closes.” He makes a motion with his hand and abruptly stops, as though deciding against it. The next moment, however, he grabs her hand and pulls her up, interlinking his fingers with hers and starting to walk.

“Wow, really?”

“You wanted me to be me, right?”

To that, Dilara has nothing to say. After a moment’s hesitation, she squeezes his hand back.

—

It’s not lemonade. It’s light and sweet, but not overly so. Taehyung seems to like it more than she does, but Dilara drinks hers anyway. She’s still not sure what it is; the menu was written in all Japanese so her only option was to pick the most visually appealing one.

As she sips her pale pink drink, she leans backwards against the hood of the car and watches Taehyung take a picture of the sky, his dark coloured drink in the other hand.

“You can’t see anything in such a dark sky,” she informs him. 

“This is the best time to try and see something in the sky,” he argues, still looking up. “There are no lights anywhere else and we’re far away from any buildings.”

“I meant because of the pollution,” she reasons, but then gives up. It’s true that the place is dark now; all the food stalls and restaurants have closed and even the pubs at the end of the road are dimmer than they were sometime ago. The breeze is stronger and has the distinct scent of impending rain.

A ball of stress is starting to rise in the pit of her stomach. It makes her nauseous and she places her glass on the ground, trying to push the feeling down and focus on tonight.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” The answer is automatic; she doesn’t even look up.

The next time Taehyung speaks, it’s from much closer. “You look worried.” He touches her arm. “Is it the race?”

Among other things. “It’s going to rain,” she mutters. “Suzuka in the rain is…” Dilara sighs and presses the balls of her palms to her forehead. “… risky. And I can’t really afford any more bad races this year.”

“You’ve been in the top three in most of your races, haven’t you?” His confusion is evident in his words.

“Yes, but…” She closes her eyes, not sure how to explain that her worry transcends isolated races. “I’m a year older now. That means I’m one year closer to becoming a liability, in case I get married or start wanting to have babies or something.”

“Babies? You’re twenty-four.” 

“I got my first question on my plans to start a family when I was twenty-one, when I was still in F2.” She shakes her head. “Whether I intend to or not, I’m giving teams one more reason not to sign me. No one wants a driver that can suddenly go on maternity leave and leave them in the lurch.”

Taehyung scoffs, but it doesn’t sound directed at her. “You’re not serious.” 

“Ridiculous but true.” She sighs heavily and shakes her hair out of her face. “God, I hate birthdays,” she repeats.

He’s silent for a few seconds. Dilara can tell he’s still processing this, for she’s sure it’s not something he or any of the men she interacts with would have considered.

“Okay,” he says finally, taking a step closer to her and nudging her gently to look at him, which she grudgingly does. “Birthdays suck. Fortunately, you only have about two minutes left of your birthday,” he points out, showing her his phone screen.

“Wait, it’s almost midnight?” Dilara’s eyes widen. “We’ve been out here that long?”

“Wasn’t that bad, right?” he asks seriously. “Anyway, I know you can’t change being a year old but at least it won’t be your birthday tomorrow,” he reasons.

“Small victories. Only lasts twenty-four hours.”

“Yeah. And it’s almost over - so make the last minute a good one.” He tucks the phone back into his pocket. “Something that makes you happy.”

Taehyung’s face is smooth and impassive as ever, but Dilara knows him well enough to read between the lines. Her face relaxes and she gives him a knowing look, narrowing her eyes playfully. He shrugs innocently when she tugs him closer by the jacket and reaches up to kiss him. 

It’s only when she actually does it that she realises how much she’d been looking forward to this all day. One moment of pure honesty, their guards down and swept away. 

Taehyung responds immediately, arms going around her and pulling her closer. His long hair tickles her forehead, his mouth so soft and warm against hers. Dilara runs her fingers through his hair; it’s just as thick and soft as she’d been imagining for weeks now and she leans further into him, already afraid of the moment they’ll have to separate.

It comes soon enough, though; both of them pull away to catch their breath but don’t move. Taehyung presses his forehead to hers, their lips barely an inch apart. Christian Dior Sauvage, she thinks desperately, inhaling it, her fingers curling tightly around the lapels of his jacket.

“In case I don’t get a chance to say it,” he murmurs, voice trembling slightly, “Lara, I -“

“I know,” she interrupts, nodding. “Me, too.”

He swallows. “Damn it,” he whispers, closing his eyes. “We could’ve been epic.”

Her heart breaks at that but no words come to mind. She presses a kiss to his cheekbone, holding his face to hers until she can’t anymore and shifts slightly to hug him. He may need it more than her right now; his vulnerability is too hard to watch and this way, he gets to at least hide his face, exhaling shakily into her neck.

The first raindrop falls on the hood of the car with a sound, making it their cue to separate. Taehyung steps back, his hands falling from her waist with a seemingly huge effort. The next few drops fall in quick succession.

“Let’s go inside,” he says hoarsely, before clearing his throat. 

“Tae, I don’t -“

“You can’t fall sick before tomorrow.” He gently steers her towards the drivers’ side and waits until she opens the door before walking over to the other side.

The interior of the car is warmer; Dilara is immediately glad he suggested coming inside. She turns on the light, dim and barely illuminating anything. Looking over at Taehyung, she immediately takes it back: his skin looks like honey, the tiny light and the rain outside throwing shadows across his handsome face.

“Maybe I’ll see you on tour next year,” she suggests after a moment, in a small voice. “If we’re in the same city.”

He nods absently, his gaze fixed on the glove compartment. “Maybe.”

She tries again. “And, uh… don’t forget to send me a selfie with the Grammy.”

He chuckles hollowly. “I don’t think we’ll win.”

“Doesn’t have to be your Grammy.”

Taehyung finally looks at her. “Will you drive carefully? Because I can’t - I don’t want to go online one day and see that you -“ 

He’s struggling with his words again, the language eluding him. His emotions are getting the better of him and Dilara reaches over and slips her hand into his.

“I’ll be careful.”

“I’ll send you that selfie.”

The thunder rumbles outside and a flash of lightning marks the end of the conversation, both of them reaching towards each other again. This time the kiss is stronger, more fervent, their entire bodies playing a role in it.

Dilara breaks away and kicks off her shoes before climbing over the gear shift, while Taehyung hitches the control under his seat so it slides backwards. She straddles him and they pick up where they left off.

There are no words exchanged; Taehyung’s mouth, his taste is the only thing that matters, the feel of his hands moving down her body with authority, squeezing her arse and pulling her closer to him so she can feel his bulge through the layers. She sighs into his mouth, pushing off the jacket and tugging at the bottom of his shirt, desperate to feel him.

Her full-sleeved top is off, too, her long hair falling in a mass down her shoulders. She can feel his arms around her, her breasts pressed against his chest, his warm skin feeling like fire on hers. Her curls crunch in his hands and she pulls away to catch her breath, gasping for air while his lips trail down her neck. She rolls her hips into his while he sucks a mark just above the cup of her bra, squeezing her other breast before pulling away to examine his work.

Dilara watches for a moment as he stares at it, his face unreadable. She climbs off his lap then, distracting him, and begins peeling off her jeans and underwear in the cramped space. Taehyung wastes no time in following suit, his lower lip between his teeth as he unbuttons his slacks and tugs them down, his erection stiff against his briefs. He hooks his thumbs onto the elastic when he pauses and looks up at her.

She freezes, her hands on his shoulders for support. They lock eyes for a moment, the same question reflected in both their eyes. Then Dilara shrugs jerkily and kisses him in answer, and Taehyung tugs his briefs down, too. The anticipation of the familiar stretch makes her want to rub her legs together. He holds her gaze as he strokes himself once before easing her back onto his lap.

The rain lashes down as she sinks onto him, clutching his shoulders as she feels him inside her, raw and naked and only him.

“Fuck,” she whispers, lowering herself even more until she can’t anymore, clinging onto him while he holds her steady. “Oh, fuck…”

Dilara begins moving slowly, every movement feeling different. At one point she remembers all of a sudden that the light is on; she immediately whips around to look out the windshield, seeing nothing but black rain. She feels something come around her then; Taehyung wraps his jacket around her and turns her attention back onto him.

They fuck in the hotel car, no one around for miles. Taehyung’s hand is firm on her thigh, his hips bucking into hers and making her feel it in her abdomen, in her chest. Dilara can’t help but start to become louder when the familiar heat starts forming in her core, when he tightens his grip on her hair.

“Look at me,” he murmurs, his eyes dark and blazing. His collarbones gleam in the dim light and strands of hair stick to the side of his neck. 

She’s powerless to look away. Her hips move faster and she feels herself slipping away, everything from the soles of her feet to the insides of her thighs feeling like they’re about to explode. Taehyung’s hand slips down to her arse and he grips it, helping her along, their gazes locked the entire time. 

Dilara just about registers his imperceptible, victorious nod before she goes over the edge and squeezes her eyes shut, her orgasm crashing over her in waves that feel like they could knock her out. Her hips feel as though they can’t stop, however, and she keeps going. It’s tiring, though, even when Taehyung takes over, helping her through the movements.

She kisses him, but it’s messy; his lips move from her jaw to her neck and he groans, gripping her hips. With all the strength she has, Dilara rolls her hips into his again, fucking him into the seat until he cums inside her, head back against the headrest, eyes closed and veins visible in his neck. 

She collapses on top of him, wishing they could fall asleep here, exactly like this. Going back to the real world feels impossible - facing it, with its real choices and real consequences, feels like the last thing she wants to do. She thinks about what he’d almost said and how she’d cut him off and she curls deeper into him, trying to savour the feeling of his arms around her.

The universe ensures the real world catches up to them, however, be it the tissue box in the car or how his phone buzzes with a message and lights up. The text is in Hangul but the time is big and clear. It’s a bit of a struggle to put their clothes back on but they manage it, leaving nothing but silence in the car.

Dilara’s legs feel weak but she drives back through the rain anyway, even when Taehyung quietly offers to drive. They return the car in silence and walk back to the lobby in the drizzle, taking the elevator all the way to the top floor. No words are exchanged, possibly because there’s nothing left to say. Their fingers brush against each other’s, a hair’s breadth away from being held, until their suites arrive and they separate in different directions.

—

Two years ago, Dilara had seen Kim Taehyung’s face in the crowd at Suzuka as he clapped for her on the podium, beaming with both pride and sadness. She’d been overwhelmed with many emotions at the time, one of them being the knowledge that this person she’d met and loved over a weekend would be lost to her, possibly forever. The expectations were such and all that was left to do was cherish the handful of memories they had together.

For Taehyung, Dilara had been the one that got away.

Suzuka is exactly the same; the vibe is the same, the sound is the same, the circuit is the same. It seems impossible that anything should change so drastically when everything else is the same. The feelings are also the same, at a glance: sadness and finality, and a desire to try and stop it from taking over.

Even being on the podium feels the same - except this time it’s the feeling of winning. It’s elation like she hasn’t known it in a long while; the roaring of the crowd, her national anthem playing, her heart bursting with the pleasant knowledge that it hasn’t hit yet fully but it will. Soaked in the rain, her long hair sticking to her face and neck, Dilara lifts the trophy that’s half her size and wipes her eyes to look at the crowd cheering for her.

Taehyung’s face in the crowd is the same as well, happy and sad all at once. He’s the only member along with Hoseok and Jungkook who’s come out into the rain; the others are presumably still in the garage. She doesn’t blame them, not until she spots them a little way behind, huddled under two umbrellas with the hoods of their raincoats low over their heads, and her heart hurts with gratitude.

Two years ago, that had been the last of Taehyung Dilara had seen for almost a year. The future is more clear this time, but deep in her heart, in the pit of her stomach that feels like it could explode if she succumbed to her feelings right now, she knows that despite looking the same, everything has changed.

She doesn’t see any of them after the celebration and neither does she expect to. Part of it is scheduling, but it would be obtuse to not assume that the rest of the members would know what’s happening, what the implication is of the Red Bull and BTS partnership coming to an end. Most of the spectators have left, too, not able to brave the rain anymore, and Dilara is ushered into her changing room to shower before being taken back to her hotel.

When she’s waiting for her car, speaking to her tearfully happy mother on the phone, she sees a familiar figure near the other end of the parking lot. Blond hair peeking out from under his hood, Park Jimin raises his hand in a hesitant wave. It takes Dilara a moment to do the same, momentary love and affection overshadowing all the conflicting feelings she’d harboured towards him all year. The moment he sees her hand, he lowers his and jogs away, ducking into a black car a little way away.

There’s no telling if her flight will take off. The rain has stopped but the runway could be flooded. It’s Japan in October; the Tokyo airport has sounded an alert but the pilot sounds hopeful, so all Dilara can do right now is wait and pray that in twelve or so hours, she’s back in London and asleep in her own bed.

She looks out of the window pensively. The air hostess has brought her a glass of rosé that she sips without tasting anything, the tiny paper package in her pocket feeling like it weighs a ton. She knows exactly what it is; she knew the moment the concierge handed it to her while she was checking out of the hotel and she’d felt the hard, circular shape under her thumb.

Taehyung has always had a flair for the dramatic, so it doesn’t surprise her that he would’ve squeezed in one last gesture before she left. Dilara had taken it out during the security check and stuffed it right back in her pocket, determined not to look at it till she was alone and calm. There’s no other way; even Lexie is no help.

Earlier today, before the race, she’d been helping Dilara stretch over video call.

“Longer… and hold it there.” 

Dilara lengthened her back and held her leg down straight, feeling the tendons stretch. 

“How are you feeling?” Lexie asked casually, as though Dilara wasn’t contorted uncomfortably on the floor. “Appropriately pumped up?”

“I know what’s on your mind, Lex.”

“What’s on my mind?”

Dilara gave her a look and slowly climbed out of the stretch, moving to the other leg. “You know.”

“Apart from your race? Not much.”

“Oh, just say it.”

Lexie sighed uncomfortably. “Okay, fine. It was on my mind but I don’t want you distracted. And I also don’t want to influence your decision in any way,” she added after a moment.

Dilara stood up and placed her hands on her hips. “I’m distracted right now wondering what you’re thinking. And if it helps… I think I’ve made my decision,” she confessed, looking at the floor. “So you may as well say it.”

Lexie observed her, squinting slightly on the tablet screen. “Fine,” she said, sounding rather like she didn’t want to bring this up at all. “I think… he really hurt you,” she began. “And… I think you’re sad when you’re not with him.”

Dilara waited for more but when Lexie wouldn’t elaborate, she raised her eyebrows. “Wait, that’s it? You’re really worried about influencing my decision that much?”

“I’m really worried your head’s not in the game, Komyshan,” she snapped, back in trainer mode. Dilara rolled her eyes and picked up her resistance band, ready for the next exercise when Lexie made her last contribution to the discussion. “And I’ll support whatever you decide. Now let’s do ten lateral band stretches, open up your back, come on…”

Dilara hears a sound signalling the economy class passengers boarding and exhales, for this must surely mean that the flight will take off. Soon she will be in the air with a sleep mask over her eyes, waking up only when she’s back on home ground in London. A cab will take her back to her building, the elevator to her penthouse, where she will crawl under the covers and sleep for a few hundred hours until her heart doesn’t hurt so much anymore.

The packet burns in her pocket. Taking a large sip of the wine, Dilara fishes it out and turns it upside down so the white gold ring she’d worn around her neck for a year and a half falls anticlimactically into her palm. She stares at it, dimly recalling her very different reaction to when he’d given it to her two years ago. 

She’d left Suzuka then under the assumption they’d never see each other again, that they were over for good. The ring, for all intents and purposes, had been the one thing pulling her back, Taehyung’s last attempt at convincing her that they weren’t finished. 

It doesn’t feel like the same this time, though. This time, he’s leaving the ball in her court.

We could’ve been epic.

Epic. Like standing on a podium in P1 kind of epic. Being on stage in front of hundreds of thousands kind of epic. Transcending distance and language and culture kind of epic - and she holds that possibility in the palm of her hand.

The shrill sound pings again; the plane has finished boarding. It’s no longer raining outside, and the pilot has begun introducing herself over the intercom. The air hostess comes over to ask if she’d like another refill and Dilara is about to say no, but at the last moment nods and asks for a vodka martini, knowing she can’t do this sober.

She can’t pull a Rachel. She won’t, not least because Red Bull won’t reimburse the cost of this business class seat if she hurries out of the airport now. No, she’s far too comfortable in her blanket, her hair is almost dry and it’s too cold outside. 

She waits for the first sip of the martini to go down her throat while she holds her breath before picking up her phone. It rings once before he picks up.

“Uh… yeoboseyo?” 

He sounds extremely unsure, as though expecting it to be someone else. When Dilara doesn’t answer, still coming to terms with what she’s doing, he speaks again.

“Um, Lara? Is - is everything okay?”

“If you,” she begins, her voice low and shaking, “ever lie to me again, it will be the last time you ever see me. Do you understand?”

“Um -”

“Damn it, Kim,” she snaps, hearing the strain under the words. Why does he have to be so difficult? “Do you understand?!”

“I - yes. Of course. I understand.”

“Okay.” Dilara nods jerkily, noticing the lights go on for all electronics to be switched off. “And if you ever cheat on me again, I swear I will cut off your ball sack.”

The answer is quicker this time. “I understand.”

She nods, exhaling shakily and leaning back in the seat. Her fist closes with the ring in her hand, the metal cutting into her palm.

“Lara.” Taehyung sounds as doubtful as she feels. “Are you… baby, are you sure?”

“I don’t know. I think so,” she says thickly. “But I’m also drinking vodka so who knows, really?”

Taehyung exhales and it sounds just like he did last night before she’d interrupted him. “I… Lara, I -” He breaks off, sniffling.

“You said you have a week off, right?” 

“Yeah. Eight days.”

Dilara looks up to see the air hostess approaching, smiling apologetically and motioning for her to hang up. She nods and holds up a finger.

“Right,” she says softly. She opens her palm and looks at the ring again. “Will I see you in London?”

He laughs disbelievingly, sniffling again. “I’m booking my ticket right now.”

—

If she closes her eyes tight enough, she can almost feel his arms come around her. Dilara squeezes her eyes shut even tighter, relaxing only when she feels his lips press against her shoulder.

“Good morning,” he murmurs sleepily.

She leans back into his chest, trying to control the squirm in her stomach. There’s definitely a word for this feeling and it feels just out of her grasp, but it’s strange and exciting all at once. 

“It’s three pm,” she tells him, getting only a grunt in response. “Are you hungry?”

“Yeah.” His voice is muffled, reverberating through her collarbones. “But your fridge doesn’t have anything. Just a box of bananas and a huge bowl of chia seeds,” he laments.

“I can’t leave perishable items in the fridge when I go abroad,” she reasons. “We should buy supplies, though. Want to go shopping? There’s a Foodhall just a few streets away from here.”

“Won’t we be recognised?” Taehyung asks, finally raising his head. “You will, at least.”

“No, none of the Brits in this area really care if they spot me around. They’ve seen me enough times. But you…” Dilara turns her head to look up at him, brushing his bangs down his forehead so they practically cover their eyes. “Should be okay, I think. It’s winter, almost. A decent scarf should do the trick, if you’re worried.”

“No, a scarf may not go with the hat I brought,” he says seriously, pursing his lips. “I’ll think about it. Maybe a… what’s it called? The thing with the high collar…?”

“A turtleneck?”

“Yes. It could be the answer to this problem.”

“Here I need to remind you that it’s just a supermarket. I’ll be going in joggers.”

“Interesting. Will we be sampling any cheeses?”

“We can,” she allows, rolling her eyes. “But it’ll be mostly instant foods that either of us can actually cook.”

“I can cook other stuff. Or I can’t, but we can get Seokjin hyung or Yoongi hyung on video call to walk us through it,” he suggests.

Dilara is about to decline but then shrugs. “Why not? Actually,” she remembers suddenly, “we need to stock up on healthy raw material, too. Lexie will go into shock if she sees nothing but packaged stuff in the kitchen.”

“Oh.” Taehyung stiffens behind her. “Right. Lexie. Of course.”

A confession from a million years ago in Suzuka tugs at her mind. She turns slightly to look up at him again. “Yeah. In a few days. Her room is exactly the way she left it. You’re okay with that, right?” she asks, mildly amused.

“Of course. It - it might be nice to see her again,” he ventures, swallowing slightly. “And, you know, she’ll have her own room and I’ll be in your room… with you. You’ll be right there the whole time,” he states.

Dilara finally steps out of his arms and turns around, leaning back against the railing and holding the hot cup to her chest. Taehyung, in his white CELINE t-shirt, places his hands worriedly on his hips. She resists the urge to reach up and rub the frown on his forehead.

“You’re not really afraid of Lexie.”

“Only in the literal sense. She’s your best friend,” he reminds her. 

“Yes, I know. Meaning she’s going to try just as hard as you will to get along.” Dilara tugs at the bottom of his t-shirt. “I want this to work.”

Taehyung nods, taking her hand and linking their fingers. “It will. I’ll make it work,” he promises.

The feeling is back, light and creeping through her chest, and it annoys her that she can’t name it. She squeezes his hand. “I love you,” she says.

There’s a flicker in his eyes; it’s abundantly clear how much he’s been waiting for her to say these words. “I love you more,” he replies, kissing her knuckles. “I really, really do,” he murmurs, stepping forward and kissing her forehead.

Dilara gives him a small smile and raises her mug slightly. “Hot chocolate?”

He raises his eyebrows in surprise and returns her smile as he takes the cup and sips at the hot liquid, before gagging and swearing. “Oh, God - it’s coffee!” he sputters. “Seriously, Lara,” he complains, coughing. “Disgusting.”

She exhales in satisfaction and takes the cup back. “I believe you,” she says sweetly, reaching up and kissing his cheek.

He gives her an unimpressed look. “Can we go inside now? I’m freezing.”

Sleepy and jet-lagged, grumbling over the smallest practical joke, Taehyung looks beautiful. The feeling is amplified now; the lightness in her stomach, the fluttering of her heart, the insane urge to smile for no reason at all.

“Yeah, we can go inside,” she answers, falling into step beside him as he turns around, and leaning into his side. He puts an arm around her shoulder and squeezes it affectionately, kissing the top of her head like he’s planning to do it forever. 

As they enter her apartment, Dilara can finally name the feeling.

—

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