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#there'll be more in the extras
todayisafridaynight · 10 months
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I hope this isn't weird but earlier I was thinking about how much good artists do in the world, and so many artists don't recognize it. You bring a lot of joy to a lot of people. I've gotten a few commissions from you at this point, and every time I look at them I get so happy because, man, there was someone who took time to create something for me (I know I payed, but still!) Beyond that, I have seen when you draw little doodles just because people inspire you to eith their asks. You practiced your skill and you use it to make others happy and that's so valuable. You contribute a lot to this world just by bringing people's moods up, and I hope you recognize that. You're pretty awesome :)
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t thank yuou ,....
#fave#snap chats#HIDING BEING THE BIGGEST SAPPIEST SAPPY SAP IN THE TAGS#PLEAAASSSEE BRO I CAN'T ALMOST BE CRYIN AT 11AM THATS SO EMBARRASSINGGGG#BUT REAL THANK YOU SO MUCHH 😭😭 i say it a lot but i really cant stress how happy i get making other people happy#and thank you for commissioning me !! it's helped me out a lot so thank you for the support you've given me in the past :')#i hope i can continue to make you happy whether its through a future commission or the lil drawings i do everyday#i keep re reading this byyyyeeeeeee im a big ol blubbering BABY this is really sweet#i say a lot that i draw for myself and i do but i also have you guys as motivation to get better#cause sometimes i just wanna hang up a drawing or idea but then i just think like 'there'll be at least ONE other person who'd like this'#and if i can make one other person happy then i'm more than glad to put in the extra work and get that pay off#so i have to thank you guys a whole lot too for giving me motivation to draw everyday and help nurture that passion#cause sure i love drawing and i love the things i draw but it's always nice to h ave other people cheering for you too#it's nice that i can get other people interested in the stuff i like..#didnt really get that growing up so im glad i can have that with yall now and have fun :]#so again thank yall so much for bein lovelies and chattin with me and leaving tags and just supporting me#CANNOT stress how much it means to me so again. Thank You. i hope me drawins can show a fraction of my gratitude
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t110n · 1 year
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Incense burner
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lochley · 8 months
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i wonder how anyone could've possibly interpreted delenn as making mistakes regarding lennier as a narrative point leading to his downward spiral it's not like jms specifically said so in a script foreward i mean oh.
oh wait
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i'm not saying this at all supports certain additional interpretations i've been entertaining such as her having manipulative intentions, though i do think the posts that get me in Trouble ultimately are just based around the idea that regardless of her intentions, as i said many times because that can be very subjective and all i'm trying to do is see what evidence supports what branches of the core concept, her actions contributed to that narrative direction.
but uhhhhh
best case scenario she really did not understand the severity of his emotions and so she thought avoidance was best to save his honor or whatever. maybe those were good intentions!
but from his pov he's going to think there's still a chance of being with her (even tho i don't like the wording of "hooking up with her" it reads like a joke and/or is a point for the incel lennier crowd so that's fun!). so the fact she never specifically shut it down, combined with how he thinks her marriage to sheridan is some self-loathing penance to pay for starting the war that perhaps he can save her from...
lennier's pov makes perfect sense to me.
of course word of god is only one factor to consider--execution is another, we're still allowed to draw from it what we want, and creators are also imperfect.
but the idea that delenn at all fucked up here was an intentional one, and while i'm still going to explore my darker interpretations regardless because it's fun and death of the creator and i encourage other ppl to do the same, i do think this proves a layer of canonicity that i'm not misogynistic illiterate for seeing.
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fazcinatingblog · 1 year
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I saw a sign at the train station saying to not feed the birds because if they're fed, they'll be more likely to be hit by a train
And I just.... I mean....
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sysig · 1 year
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Your Weekly TV Guide
On Monday you can expect:
2:30 PM: Sona daily goings-on
And Tuesday:
2:30 PM: Star Control II - Helix
Wednesday:
2:30 PM: Deltarune - Addisons
Thursday:
2:30 PM: Sonas - Hall of Mirrors & Rings
Friday:
2:30 PM: Just Desserts
Saturday:
2:30 PM: Star Control II
Sunday:
2:30 PM: The Little Mermaid
Thanks for tuning in! (Patreon)
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dredshirtroberts · 23 days
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today is my mom's birthday. and i hate her.
i hate her for not being curious or sharing what she did know about our family's health issues. i hate her for not paying attention to her children when they needed her. i hate her for not paying attention to me for decades unless it benefited her. i hate her for having gotten a special super duper surprise birthday theme for her 51st birthday when the very next month for my Actual Milestone Birthday of turning 30 (which my family has always treated as special) i got BLATANTLY ignored on MULTIPLE points in the "evening of festivities" including WHILE EATING MY SPECIAL DINNER (which was a backup option because the whole plan for my birthday i had was thrown out for whatever SHE wanted to plan instead). as in i ate it almost completely alone in a different room because no one wanted to choose to sit with me. For my own fucking birthday.
i hate her for hating herself so loudly and specifically that i know why she doesn't like me. I wear her face better than she does, and she's angry she doesn't think she looks hot and I do. And I can't point out that i look just like her or i risk pointing a mirror at her and going "So you *don't* love me, because i look like all the things you hate". But if I point out I look like any of dad's family i don't because then i'm trying too hard to be a boy which she hates.
i hate her. i hate her for never taking us to the doctor. i hate her.
i hate her because she was supposed to love me. but she didn't.
and now that i've rescinded my love... now what?
i can't call dad if my tire blows out on the highway. I couldn't do that even before I stopped talking to them because of how far away I am now, but... now I really can't. All I'd get is a lecture on how dangerous i'm probably being (even if the reason for the car troubles is in no way my fault, it has to be my fault. it's always my fault.) and told to figure it out for myself once the panic is over.
i've never been able to call my mom for anything.
Ever.
she was never the person i went to. she couldn't be. she probably wanted to be on occasion, but she never did the work either.
In cutting my parents off, i really didn't actually lose anything. the amount of contact i've had with them since i blocked them everywhere last July has been about on par as what it used to be before i stopped talking to them - just without the anxiety of a potential reemergence of them into my life.
and i hate my mother. and there might be a hole in my heart (non-metaphorical, and also non-concerning, somehow). and i hate my mother.
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boyapologist · 6 months
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looking for flats and planning on moving out was so much fun when I was a teen but now that I'll be starting my career soon and it'll be an actual possibility I just feel so.... overwhelmed about it
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https-yeonjun · 2 months
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house warming (k.mg)
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wc. 756
genre. smut
tags. minors dni! mingyu x fem!reader, established relationship, cockwarming
a/n. i have been writing this for like 9 months and i really wanted to make it longer but i just want to post it because mentally i can't complete it, maybe there'll be a part two (most likely not) but yay!!! cockwarming mingyu yasss
more of my work
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you really should have planned better.
it was like everything that could possibly go wrong did. you imagined that by now you would be wrapped up in a large, cozy comforter nestled on your cloud soft king size bed in your already furnished new house. but the movers got the wrong date down, so now your house was bare save for the mess of cardboard boxes in every room and the lumpy air mattress in the middle of your lonely bedroom.
the room lacked the warmth you had hoped for, and the chilly air seeped through the gaps. and to make matters worse, you found out that your heater was broken, in the dead of winter. 
it was too much to manage in one night, so you decided to unpack your closet and go to sleep. everything else was tomorrow’s problem.
but in the middle of the night, you stir awake, a kink in your neck reminding you of your less than ideal sleeping arrangement. you turn to the man lying beside you, who is restlessly moving around.
“what are you doing?” you groggily snap at him.
“i’m sorry,” he mumbles. “”i’m just really cold.”
“there are extra blankets in the closet, i think.” you suggest, rolling over, trying to lull yourself back to sleep.
“i wanna feel you, baby.” he whispers, nuzzling his nose into the crook of your neck. you roll away from him, more focused on checking your phone, causing him to emit a low groan.
“no, baby, come back here.” he pleads, drawing out the last syllable of his sentence.
“mingyu, it’s two in the morning.” you retort, the harsh blue glow of your phone illuminating the room’s bare bones.
“i’m so cold,” he whines again, pulling the comforter over the two of you.
“baby, check in the closet for extra blankets.”
“but you’re so warm here,” he pulls you closer to him. he snuggles into your neck, breathing in the scent of your shampoo.
“god, we need to call a repair person to fix that stupid heater,” you groan when you think about everything that you need to do.
“we can do that in the morning,” he says, as he traces kisses along your jawline to your neck. “but in the meantime, we can keep each other warm.”
“mingyu, babe, i’m so tired, and the movers are coming at ten and we still have so much to do.”
“baby, baby,” he shushes you, wrapping you in his arms. “just relax.”
“i’m trying to go back to sleep.”
“please,” mingyu begs. “baby, it’s cold outside. i just want to feel your warmth.” you feel a shiver down your spine when he begins to nibble on your ear. “you don’t have to do anything, i just wanna be inside you.”
he slides your sweatpants down. slowly guiding his cock to your entrance, he rubs it up and down your slit. his tip pokes around your entrance and you push your hips back, encouraging him to enter into your tight cunt. his hands grip your hips tightly, his face screwing up in pleasure as he slowly pushes. you suck your breath as he bottoms out. “sorry,” he mumbles.
“it’s fine,” you sigh, melting into his embrace. mingyu, still mumbling sorries, moves around until he finally feels comfortable. when he does, his head returns to the nook of your neck. the two of you lie with your figures entwined, your limbs interwoven in an affectionate dance. your head rests against his chest, his heartbeat beneath you serving as a lullaby. his cold hands slide underneath your sweatshirt, and you clench around him.
“fuck,” he groans lowly and now it’s your turn to profusely apologize. “it’s fine, honey, just give me a moment to calm down.” you give him a moment before you place your hands on top of his arms where they rested at your waist. this was supposed to be an innocent moment – as innocent as it could be. it was supposed to be an opportunity to feel close to each other, but, as you’d expect with your boyfriend, innocence seemed to take a backseat to a different kind of intimacy.
slowly he rocks his hips against yours, prompting a soft moan to escape from your lips. “gyu,” you warn him slightly, but he ignores you, his hands slipping down to your hips to pull you closer to him. “what happened to “i just want to feel you”?”
“m sorry,” he moans out, “you know i can’t help it. you just feel so good.”
taglist: @dearlyjun
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layyeschips · 1 year
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Patron God/Ghost King au
where after a few centuries of boredom, Danny gets a sudden influx of college student worshippers but it's not too worrying since all the offerings he's gotten so far are just different snacks ranging from crackers to a full bowl of mac n cheese. Without any other options, he goes to the only halfa he knows who had finally settle down from dimension travelling to studying in a dimension where she knows the people wouldn't need an extra helping hands of a hero.
King Danny "get me out off paperwork" Phantom: Heya Dani, do you know if something happened that resulted in mass worshipping?
Danielle "I built a shrine of my brother in the empty storage closet of my dorm building to see if it would work" Phantom: gee golly I have no clue on what could have happened to result in that
Words tend to spread really fast especially when it comes to tired students who has nothing else to lose. Besides, after leaving a a potato chip on the creepy looking shrine in the storage room and feeling a strange wave of calm/relaxed/focus and passing that paper you've been struggling with for the whole year, who wouldn't keep doing it and leave even more snacks.
Next thing you know there'll be a creepy little shrine piled with snacks on top of it in empty storage rooms of different college and universities. Eventually the students find out what to call their entity of calm after one claimed to left their notebook in the storage only to find a little scribble that says Phantom in that slightly glowing and possibly toxic green ink.
---------------------------------
In hindsight, Tim should have probably stayed at home and rest after staying up all night finishing a paper due the day after tomorrow but Bruce had asked if he wanted to tag along the JL meeting with the JLD because of... whatever it was Bruce mentioned so who in their right mind would say no to that. So now here he was half listening to the banter meeting about some eldritch entity that could be a threat to humanity and what offering should they provide to complete the summoning. Of course after hearing a familiar name of his preferred deity of submitting papers on time, the delirious boy never even registered what he said.
Tim "barely conscious on his 11th cup of Pedro Pascal's Starbucks order" Drake: Phantom?? give 'em poptart... green flavour...
[this was just a fun little thought but I might add on to it from time to time]
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ln444 · 5 months
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truly madly deeply
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cw: fluff, very slight angst, comfort (reader comforting lando), you and lando are fucking in love:'(((
now playing: truly madly deeply by 1d
notes: i love requests inspired by songs pls request more of it🥺 wrote this in 30 minutes at 3am so its a bit short sry:(
requested by anon
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these past few weeks have been incredibly tough on lando, both mentally and physically. you've undoubtedly noticed and have been doing your best to support him while giving him the space he needs. lando may struggle to express his feelings in words, but he's been showing his gratitude in other ways – with small gestures and plenty of physical affection. you've been following his f1 journey closely, never missing a grand prix, and making sure you're by his side through it all. lando has never felt more loved and supported. his favorite moments are those when he can finally rest and spend time with you after a grueling race.
qualifying is tomorrow, and lando seems even more nervous than usual. you know him inside out, recognizing his little habits when he's stressed; without him saying a word, you understand the thoughts racing through his mind. the night has fallen, heightening lando's anxiety as the race draws near. he's been more affectionate than usual today, seeking comfort in your hugs and asking for extra kisses. while you love this closeness, it also concerns you. you're well aware of how hard lando can be on himself, and the thought of what he might be going through tugs at your heart.
you join him on the bed, facing him, the stars casting a soft glow on his tired face, making his eyes sparkle even more when they meet yours. "hey, pretty boy," you whisper gently, your hand tenderly cupping his cheek and stroking it. butterflies flutter in his stomach, and his body relaxes a bit. "hey, love" he whispers back, planting a sweet kiss on the palm of your hand, eliciting a smile from you.
"how are you feeling?" you ask softly, your fingers gently playing with his curls – something you know he adores. with a sigh, lando closes his eyes for a moment before locking onto yours again. he finds immense comfort in your gaze, with the rest of the world fading away each time he gets lost in your eyes.
"i don't know... i'm not feeling great about tomorrow," he admits with a hint of worry in his voice. your heart aches just hearing his concerns. you move closer, your gaze softening, and lando's heartbeat quickens. how can you have such a profound effect on him with just your eyes? it drives him crazy.
"why, baby? you don't have to worry. you're lando norris, after all!" you playfully roll your eyes, and a smile tugs at lando's lips. he takes your hand and interlaces his fingers with yours, and you reciprocate with a warm smile.
"no, but seriously, what's bothering you?" you softly toy with his fingers while giving him your full attention.
"i mean, it's more of a mclaren problem than a 'me' problem," he hesitates for a moment, and you gently caress the back of his hand, encouraging him to open up.
"i don't think i belong there anymore. i don't think i can show my true potential with them." his voice is calmer now, and a sense of relief is evident.
you hum softly, and he finds the courage to continue, still focused on your hands playing together. "should i quit? but what if no one else wants me?" panic creeps into his voice, and you immediately grip his hand firmly, bringing your free hand to his cheek.
"hey, you're one of the best drivers out there. there'll always be a team that wants you. believe me, there'll always be a place for you in f1. you've worked so hard to get here, and you truly deserve it," you reassure lando. he gets lost in your eyes, feeling the depth of your love and honesty. his heart feels like it could burst at any moment.
"but i want to be the best," he pouts, and you chuckle softly, giving him a quick peck on the lips, making him smile. "you're already the best for me," you say with a gentle smile, causing lando's heart and cheeks to warm. he groans playfully, slightly embarrassed by his blushing cheeks, and your smile widens. "you're so cute; i don't think my heart can take it," you playfully whimper, cupping his face and squeezing his cheeks. lando bites his lip to suppress a smile, and the sparks in his eyes intensify. you place multiple kisses on his lips, and lando can't help but chuckle. he puts his hands on yours to pause the kisses and says, "just give me a real kiss already, please," another pout forming on his lips. your smile grows bigger, and you oblige, giving him a gentle kiss.
lando pulls back to look at you, and the warm smile on his face melts your heart. "thank you," he says softly, caressing your hands. you don't really know why he's thanking you to be honest; for the kiss or for the honest words. "you don't have to thank me," you say, placing a quick peck on his lips. "i'll always be here for you, no matter what," another peck, "and i'll always be proud of you," another one, "no matter what, my pretty boy."
lando's heart has never felt this warm. in fact, his entire body feels warm right now, overwhelmed by the love he's receiving. "god, what did i do to deserve you?" he asks with a sweet and calm voice, clearly feeling better. "i'm truly, madly, deeply in love with you."
"i know you did not just quote a one direction song," you both laugh, and lando groans, hiding his face behind your hands, feeling a bit embarrassed. "it's cute," you move your hands to look at him. "i'm truly, madly, deeply in love with you too," you say with a hint of teasing in your voice, but you absolutely mean it. a big smile forms on lando's face, and you run your hands through his hair to pull him into a tender kiss.
lando's heart feels lighter, your sweet words and touch washing away all the negative thoughts for the night. if you have to repeat every single word you said to him tomorrow and the day after – every day, you will do it, again and again. lando knows it, and he has never felt so thankful.
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masterlist
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camarocarfight · 1 month
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Alastor's Bloody Valentine
Human Alastor x Reader late Valentine's Day special
Rated very mature with sexual content, murder, blood, and gore. Set in the 1930s with human characters. I suppose you could look at this as being a little Alastor back story.
Maybe there'll be a part deux?
It's kinda edited, but I got lazy and lost interest, and I just wanted to finish it. I hope all of you dear readers enjoy!
New Orleans, 1932
There was a chill in the air, carried in on a breeze that whistled through the old willow trees, and rustled their long, spindle-like branches. The trill of grasshoppers and crickets and the occasional screech of a night owl were customary of the bayou. Only interrupted by the nightly steam train, whose whistle echoed for miles until it faded like a whisper. There was no moon - only an ebony sky accompanied by its thousands of starry hosts. 
As serene as it all seemed, the bayou was one of the most dangerous places to be in 1932. Not just because of the alligators, snakes, and venomous spiders. The neighboring town was full of talk about the Louisiana serial killer, who lured their victims into the darkness of the bayou to slaughter them, leaving no trace or remains. People simply vanished, though it seemed to be mostly men of diverse age and status. Innocent and not so innocent. The most recent being a younger gentleman who had just gotten married. The papers did fail to mention that he'd nearly beaten his new wife within an inch of her life not long after the wedding, but news traveled fast. He was the thirteenth person to go missing.
With Valentine's Day came the fear of who the next victim would be. Mothers and wives kept tight leashes on their sons and husbands, and the police put in place a mandatory curfew. Temporary police sentinels were stationed on street corners, keeping watch over the streets day and night. Which subsequently made it more difficult to get to and from the only speakeasy in town. The police were happy - killing two birds with one stone. 
“Yes, ladies and gentlemen, don't let this curfew get you down. Take your gal out on the town for some swing and make the most out of your Valentine's Day. Ladies, keep your gents close, and stay safe-”
“Y’see,” Mimzy turned the cathedral radio off with a huff and crossed her arms over her voluptuous chest. “This curfew is ruinin’ everything!” 
You rolled your eyes and leaned your elbow on the bar and rested your cheek in the palm of your hand. Mimzy had been on a tangent for the last week for having to close the speakeasy. Being that it was in the basement of an old sugar mill, it was too risky to keep it running with the police snooping around. In one night, with the help of Husker, all of the liquor was moved under the cover of darkness to the crawl space of Alastor's hunting cabin deep in the bayou. The liquor would at least be safe if the police felt it necessary to search the sugar mill. The only thing they'd find would be an empty stage and bar. 
With no speakeasy, the regular meet and greet for you and all of your friends was the cabin. It was a comfortable space, at least. Alastor had used the extra money he made from his radio show to install new, polished wood floors, a nice bar, and even a loft with a decent sized bed when he would stay for the first week of hunting. It also had a decent kitchen, which was Alastor's favorite feature. As for you, Alastor made sure to give you your own bit of space. In the corner of the main room was a stone fireplace with book shelves flanking either side. The shelves were filled to the brim with books of every genre. Hanging above the fireplace was Alastor’s prized Stag - previously occupied by Alastor’s portrait from when he was in the service. You never did tell him just how creepy you found the stuffed creature. Alastor loved the hunting sport, but you appreciated wildlife as just that; alive. 
Mimzy sauntered over from the radio and sat herself on a rickety barstool, her brows pinched. “How am I gonna make money? Who knows how long this whole thing will go on for. And where's Alastor? His show ended an hour ago. His ass better not be dead too.”
You sighed and stood from your barstool to round the bar. There was a bottle of, ironic enough, Red Stag that was already open. It wasn't your first choice, but prohibition made everyone less picky. You poured yourself a generous glass, only for Mimzy to swipe it from you, and gulp it down in one swig. Your eye twitched in irritation as you glared at the woman through your lashes. The relationship between the two of you was decent enough, but as of late, she'd been grating your nerves and testing your patience. Mimzy's flamboyant personality didn’t jive well with your own in an enclosed space. You were more reserved, shy, and softly spoken. Not to mention that the cabin had always been an intimate space for you and Alastor. It didn't seem so intimate now - being that it was now shared space with Mimzy and Husker. 
“Would you like another drink before I pour my own,” you asked, your voicing clipped. 
Your head was pounding now, with a migraine blooming behind your eyes. The little grin that slid over Mimzy's lips told you that she knew exactly what she was doing. 
“Actually, Doll, I would,” she flashed you a grin with her nose wrinkling as she did so. “You're such a good friend,” Mimzy cooed and thrust her empty glass in your face. 
Your grip on the bottle of Red Stag was white knuckle, and you opened your mouth to give her a piece of your mind, but the words caught in your throat when the cabin door opened. Both you and Mimzy looked over to see Husker coming through the door with Alastor trailing behind him. Your shoulders visibly deflated when your gaze met Alastor's.
Mimzy put her glass down on the bar and threw her arms up in glee. “Alastor! I'm so glad to see you!”
“And I you,” Alastor grinned. “Thanks for holding down the fort and watching over my darling for me.”
“I don't need a babysitter,” you grumbled and nodded your head at Husker when he gave you a sympathetic smile. “Hey, Husk.”
“Cher,” Husk greeted in that deep, baritone voice. 
Alastor laughed boisterously and leaned on the bar in front of you. Upon meeting his gaze, his chocolate brown pools started to melt away all of the tension in your body. It was so easy for you to get lost in his eyes. 
“I jest, my dear. Husker here is going to drive Mimzy home, and we are going to celebrate!”
Mimzy quirked a brow and made a sound akin to a high-pitched scoff. “I ain't ready to leave yet. I want to celebrate too! We could have a round of drinks!”
Husk had noticed that you and Alastor had yet to tear apart your gazes and were seeming lost in each other. Alastor flashed you a dazzling smile and leaned over the bar to press a chaste kiss to your lips. That was enough for your cheeks to flush and become a brilliant crimson. 
“C'mon,” Husk grabbed Mimzy's fur coat off the coat rack and all but threw it into the woman's face. “Before I drag your ass to the car.”
Mimzy put her coat on in a huff, then fussed over her hair, throwing insults at Husker as she did so. 
“Thank you,” you mouthed to Alastor and waved to Mimzy as she was all but pushed out the door by Husker. You could hear her nagging as she walked all the way to the door. “Poor Husker.”
“He'll live,” Alastor hummed and gave you a wink. “Mimzy, however,” he chuckled.
“That would be too good to be true,” you mumbled and grabbed the bottle of Red Stag to pour yourself that long awaited glass. “How was work?”
Alastor set about removing his suit jacket and rolled up the sleeves of his white dress. Your gaze was drawn to the newly exposed, tan flesh of his forearms. “Same as always, my dear. I'm sure you were listening?”
“Until Mimzy turned the radio off,” You walked into the main sitting area and sat in your favorite rocking chair. 
In your left hand was your glass of bourbon that you then took a sip of. From over the brim of the glass, you continued to study your partner as he made himself comfortable. Alastor's bowtie was now untied, and the top button of his dress shirt undone, exposing a delicious expanse of his neck. Being that it was Valentine's Day, you hoped that it meant that Alastor wouldn't mind taking everything farther than usual. The man would tease you here and there, whispering dirty things in your ear, because he knew it riled you up. The act of sex, however, just didn't fit his idealism. Any affection from Alastor would include kissing and touching, maybe heavy petting, but the two of you had only had penetrative sex a handful of times. Each time it happened was mind-blowing, leaving you craving more and waiting on bated breath to feel him the same way again. You could feel yourself beginning to flush just thinking about it - the heat slowly building up in your chest and rising until your cheeks were crimson. At least you could blame it on the bourbon, which you quickly threw back and tore your gaze away from Alastor. 
“So,” Alastor sat down on the couch and crossed his legs, and draped his left arm over the back of the couch. “Quiet evening with a shared drink, my darling?”
Honestly, the man was entirely too distracting. It didn't help either that the bourbon was affecting you far sooner than you anticipated. Your mind blanked, seeing Alastor sitting there - sleeves rolled up, bowtie undone, the red vest that matched his trousers that fit him entirely too well. Alastor was your perfect definition of a sex-god that had a distaste for the very thing that you craved. His smoldering gaze and satisfied, closed-mouth grin told you that he knew exactly what  kind of effect he had on you. 
“Are you alright,” he cocked his head to the side. “You look bothered.”
“You're a tease,” you swallowed. 
Alastor’s brows rose in surprise. “Me? I'm just sitting here,” he laughed and beckoned you over with his finger. “Come here, my darling.”
A bolt of red-hot arousal shot right up your spine, and your body moved automatically, seemingly out of your control and under Alastor’s. Alastor moved to uncross his legs and seized you by the hips with his strong hands. You now stood in between his spread thighs, looking down into his brown eyes as he gazed up at you. His lips quirked in a crooked grin, making him look like the cat who got the cream. 
“Tell me how I'm a tease,” Alastor whispered huskily. 
You brought your hands up to cup his face and ran your left thumb along his bottom lip. “You know what you do to me, Alastor.”
Alastor grinned and wrapped his arms around your waist. “Oh, I'm well aware,” the man's pupils were now blown with his own need. “Would you like me to do something about that?”
Relief flooded you, and you nodded eagerly. By now, the bourbon was really beginning to have an effect on you and how much you needed the man before you. “I've been waiting so long, Alastor.”
“The wait makes it worthwhile,” he growled.
Before your tipsy mind could even comprehend what was happening, Alastor stood, effortlessly hoisting you up by the hips, and bounded towards the spiral staircase of the loft Your arms wrapped around his neck and your legs around his slim waist. Alastor’s arousal was very noticeable against your own pelvis. The heat from his girth radiated through his slacks. When his lips met yours in a fevered kiss, your mind blanked with arousal. Your senses quickly became overwhelmed by his touch, his scent, and his taste as his tongue coaxed your own in a scorching kiss. Alastor eagerly devoured your mouth and every subsequent moan he drew from you. He broke the kiss, nipping at your bottom lip as he did so. His lips then trailed down to the column of your neck where he sank his teeth into the supple flesh. You hissed from the pain and carded your fingers through his brunette hair until you had a handful and tugged, earning a groan from him. 
“Fuck it,” Alastor growled and sat you on the steps of the spiral staircase. 
Alastor’s hands snaked up your dress to pull your panties down your legs, leaving the silk garment dangling from your left ankle. You gasped when he cupped your dripping sex in his left hand and breathed against the side of your neck. 
“I’ll have you right here,” he growled and claimed your mouth once again. 
You moaned wontanly into his mouth when he penetrated you with two fingers and curled them against your g-spot. Even though sex was a rare occasion, Alastor had memorized your body from the inside out. Knowing every sensitive spot to kiss, lick, or bite. Alastor groaned and pulled your bottom lip between his teeth and tugged, ripping the most delicious moans from your throat. Each and every sound you made went straight to his cock that was now straining uncomfortably in his slacks. With a tweak of his fingers, Alastor had you coming with his name falling from your lips like the most beautiful prayer. 
“Alastor,” you were breathless, chest heaving as you fought to catch your breath. “I need you inside me.”
Alastor’s eyes darkened, and he carefully withdrew his fingers from your quivering sex. “You’ll have me,” he whispered and kissed you chastly. 
The sound of Alastor’s belt buckle was like music to your ears, as your body was finally getting the attention that it so badly craved. With your left hand, you reached between you and Alastor and took his now freed, sizeable length in your hand. You bit your lip and looked up at Alastor through your eyelashes. Alastor held your gaze as he guided himself into your tight heat, slowly splitting you open and seating himself inside you. Both of you panted, attempting to adjust to the almost foreign sensation. No, you weren’t a virgin, but Alastor had been your first, and since sex wasn’t a regular occurrence, it took both of you longer to adjust. You, more so than Alastor. 
He was thankfully patient, waiting until the pained look on your face was no longer before slowly pulling out and thrusting back into the hilt. The man clenched his teeth painfully and screwed his eyes shut, completely drunk off of the feeling of you fitting around him so perfectly. 
You held onto Alastor tightly, with your nails digging into the flesh of his back, even through his dress shirt. Alastor’s hands had your hips in a death grip, and you hoped that you would have bruises left in their place. You wanted Alastor to claim you - mark you -  so that everyone knew you belonged to him. 
“Come inside me, Alastor,” the words fell from your lips in a pathetic whimper before you even realised what you said.
The look Alastor gave you startled you, and his hips stuttered to a pause. You stared into each other’s eyes for what felt like an eternity, Alastor’s eyes searching your own as if looking for truth behind that request. You feared your moment of intimacy with Alastor was ruined until he started moving once more. This time, he moved slower, taking his time pulling all of the way out and sinking back into you. He continued to hold your gaze and leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead.
“Is that what you want,” Alastor asked, but it was barely above a  whisper. “To be mine, forever?”
Of course it’s what you wanted. Alastor had been your first, and you wanted no one else. It was difficult for you to imagine your life any different. You would be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about starting a family with Alastor. You brought your hands up to Alastor’s face and looked into those chocolate pools.
“Make me yours, forever, Alastor.”
~~~
You awoke the next morning, nestled in the king-sized bed of the loft alone. Alastor was nowhere to be found, with his side of the bed neatly made. Between your legs was an ache and a stickiness in the inside of your thighs that served as a reminder of the previous night's activities. What little bourbon you had, had also left you with a slight headache that settled over your temples. Coffee would be a good fix, and you wondered why you hadn't smelled it perking if Alastor had already been up. 
There was a fire going in the fireplace when you made your way down the staircase, confirming that Alastor was around, but nowhere to be seen. You thought nothing of it and went over to the kitchenette to get coffee perking and breakfast ready for whenever Alastor returned. 
You sat down in your rocking chair by the fireplace when the coffee was ready to enjoy your cup. The chair rocked rhythmically on the hardwood floor, nearly lulling you to sleep until you heard a god awful noise coming from the crawlspace under the cabin. Your first thought was that a stranger or the police had found the liquor stash, and you bolted out of the chair to get the pistol hidden among your books. 
The door to the crawlspace was in the kitchenette and was flung open, revealing a blood covered Alastor. The man looked up at you with blood splattered across his face and chest, staining his white dress shirt. There was enough blood that you couldn't tell if it was coming from Alastor or not. 
You dropped the pistol that was in your hands and rushed over to him, and hooked your arms around his arm. “A-alastor, what the hell? Are you-”
“It's fine!” He laughed and looked down at you with a grin. “It's not mine.”
Your eyes widened, and you took a tentative step away from him and shook your head. “Then, whose is it?”
Alastor ignored your question and casually walked over to the pot of coffee on the stove. He poured himself a mug, all the while humming a song with that same grin on his face. 
“Alastor,” you demanded. “You're scaring the hell out of me.”
“I'm sorry,” he put his coffee mug on the counter and turned back to you. “This,” he pointed to his stained shirt. “Is just the latest victim.”
“The latest…,” you paled, with the details finally coming together. “You're him.”
Alastor flashed you that dazzling grin and opened a drawer next to the stove. Without even looking, Alastor pulled a massive knife out and studied it. 
“Did you know, my darling, that in order to inflict a fatal wound, you need at least fifteen inches of penetration?”
“Please put the knife do-”
You gasped. Before you could even react, Alastor lunged forward, plunging the knife deep in your abdomen. He stood in front of you, holding the blade in place with his smile never faltering. Pain blossomed throughout your body, and you began to choke on the blood that bubbled up through your throat. You coughed and watched the blood mixed sputum splatter across Alastor’s already stained shirt. Tears fell freely from your eyes, staining your cheeks, and your trembling hands grabbed onto Alastor’s arm that still held the knife inside you.
Blinking up at Alastor through your tears, you saw no remorse on his face. Just that twisted grin that you had fallen in love with so many years ago. 
“You should know I'm too much like my father to have children,” Alastor said darkly. “That's a risk I cannot take.”
Alastor pulled the knife out of your abdomen and stepped back as you crumpled to the floor on your knees. The pain was white-hot, but it was nothing compared to that of your broken heart. Your body screamed for his closeness and wanted to hate him for everything. Even after the previous night, after telling you he would be with you forever. In an attempt to stop the bleeding, you held pressure on the wound, but you knew it was no use. You were dying. At the hands of your lover.
“It won't be long, my love,” Alastor got down on one knee and brushed your hair out of your face. “I'm sorry I had to do this.”
“F-fuck you,” you gasped and choked. 
Your vision was beginning to fade in and out, along with your hearing. The weight of your body suddenly became too much and you fell to your side. Before your head hit the floor, Alastor had caught you and laid you down gently. The last sensation you felt, other than the pain, was Alastor kissing you. It was a passionate kiss, similar to that of the kiss you shared while making love. He didn't care about the blood that pooled from your mouth, but seemed to enjoy it more than anything. When he broke the kiss, you met his gaze, struggling to keep your eyes open.
“I'll see you in hell,” you spit, using every ounce of energy you had left before going still.
Alastor smiled down at your now lifeless body and ran his fingers through your hair. A single tear ran down his cheek, and his smile grew into a grin.
“It's a date.”
Part Two
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scribblesofagoonerr · 19 days
Text
Turmoil of events...
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This update might be a bit all over the place. I'm still ill, but I had a spark to write, even if it doesn't make much sense at all.
Credit to @alotofpockets for the idea on this update; I am very grateful for her help!
⟫ part 1
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After being sick for five days, it became apparent that having the flu was not enjoyable. You spent most of the week confined to your bed, wrapped in blankets, with a noticeable pile of used tissues beside you. You felt cold one moment and hot the next, shivering uncontrollably.
You had been feeling completely miserable. However, the good news was that you were starting to feel better just in time for the training session ahead of the away game against Bristol.
Although, your team's mothers held differing opinions on the matter.
"Maybe you should take a few more days to recover" Beth suggests, shaking her head. "I still don't think this is a good idea" she adds.
"Why? I feel better now" It's not a complete lie. You do feel better, although you're still slightly sniffling and your head is pounding a little bit too much. Overall, you did feel better than previously.
"I just don't think it's a good idea" Beth says, pursing her lips and turns to look at Viv, seeking her input.
The Dutch shakes her head in agreement and adds, "There's no harm in taking extra time to feel better. You don't want to push yourself and make yourself worse" she tells you.
You try your best to resist the urge to inwardly groan at the two of them, "Seriously? Come on. I'll be fine! I have to get back into the squad-- You know that the nations league games are coming up soon so I need to get minutes" You know that it's important to play; you can't be sidelined instead.
"There'll be plenty of chances for that" Viv tells you with a frown, but she can't help but be concerned about how much you've been pushing yourself.
"I can't be sidelined, I need minutes!" You exclaim before you storm off to finish getting ready for training.
"That kid is..." Beth begins to speak.
"Stubborn" Viv finishes the blondes' sentence.
Beth can't help but chuckle slightly, "Well, that's one word for it now, huh?" she jokes.
"If you're talking about Y/N, then she's definitely stubborn," Laura chips in, amusedly, as she appears in the kitchen. "What happened this time?" she wonders.
"Y/N wants to go to training apparently" Beth exhales a sigh and shakes her head. "It's a bad idea" she states.
"It's definitely a bad idea" Laura replies in agreement with the blonde, she knew how stubborn you could be at times.
"Well, hopefully Jonas will realise that's not ready to be playing in the game yet" Viv tells them as she exhales a sigh.
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Apparently, Y/N had done an excellent job of persuading Jonas and the coaching staff that she was fit to play. Therefore, it was not surprising when she secured a spot in the starting eleven for the upcoming game.
This game is significant as Viv is set to return to the pitch, being subbed on during the second half.
"Oh dear" Beth mumbles as she shook her head.
Viv exhales a sigh, "This is not good" she states.
"I'm glad to see that Y/N is feeling better. It'll be good to have her in the starting lineup," Steph says as she looks over to where Kyra and Y/N are joking around on the bus.
"Except that she's not better. We told her she should take more time, but you know what Y/N is like..." Beth remarks.
"Stubborn" Steph pipes in, amusedly.
Beth and Viv both nod in agreement with the woman.
Jen furrows her eyebrows, "You mean she's still sick? I can't see this going well then" she confesses.
"It really isn't going to" Beth exhales a sigh.
"We can't get involved though and decide things for her, or she'd be upset with us for that" Viv states knowingly.
"Yeah, you're right there, Viv" Beth replies in agreement with her girlfriend as she looks over at you, realising that she couldn't say anything and sway the decision or it would backfire on her.
"Cheater!" Y/N shouts aloud, glaring at the australian girl sat opposite her. "Stop cheating!" You protest.
"How am I a cheat? You can't even cheat at Uno!" Kyra delcares with a smug smirk on her face.
"Easy there Y/N, it's just a game now" Laura states, amusedly, although she isn't playing, she's joined all of you on the coach to the game to watch it.
"Nah! Kyra's cheating!" You continue to scowl at the girl while crossing your arms.
"How did I?" Kyra's smug look was starting to annoy you even more.
"You know you did-- You looked at my cards!" You break out into a sudden loud cough as you get worked up, shooting further glares at the 21-year-old.
"You want some water for that cough?" Laura wonders, concerned.
"I'm fine!" You shake your head in protest.
"I thought you said you were better--" Kyra's words are cut off.
"I am, I'm totally fine. It's just a tickle!" You protest, shaking your head as you try and avoid coughing again.
The rest of the girls' don't seem so convinced about it as Kyra and you continue to play uno, under the watchful eye of the rest of the girls.
"Kyra! Stop cheating!" You shout aloud, fed up off the girl constantly cheating with the game and trying to look at your cards.
"Less of the bickering now children" Katie chips in as she laughs, shaking her head from where she sits beside Caitlin.
"There's only one actual child here" You remark, continuing to cross your arms and scowl at the Aussie girl in front of you.
"What's going on?" Alessia wonders, glancing at the two of you confused as she sits in front with Vic.
"Kyra is being a massive cheat!" You exclaim aloud, pointing your finger in the girls' direction accusingly.
"Sure, go and tattle. That's real mature of you kid" Kyra states, smirking cockily.
"Says the 21-year-old whos' acting immature" You remark as the girls all watch you and Kyra bicker amusedly.
"You're being dramatic, Y/N. It's just a game now" Kyra states doing everything in her that she can to wind you up.
"KYRA!" You lunge towards the older girl.
"Y/N!" Kyra shouts back.
"Girls, they're fighting again. Might want to sort that out?" Katie jokes glancing between Beth, Viv and Steph as she watches the two of you almost attempt to wrestle with eachother.
"Kyra, cut it out. Stop winding Y/N up" Steph scolds the younger Aussie girl.
"Kyra, stop winding Y/N up" Steph scolds the younger Aussie girl.
"Y/N you need to calm down, it's just a game. Take it easy" Beth scolds, shaking her head. "Viv, would you talk to her? She'll listen to you" she turns to her girlfriend for help.
"Y/N" Viv scolds you with a knowing firm look
"Sorry" Both you and Kyra apologise after being told off like 2 misbehaved kids, at least you had an excuse that you were an actual kid.
"Handled it like a pro there, girls" Katie jokes with them.
"Well, we've got a few years experience, eh?" Beth remarks to the Irish women.
"It's like I'm permanently babystting" Steph huffs and rolls her eyes. "Caitlin, it's your turn next!" she insists to the fellow Aussie, while the rest of the girls just laugh.
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At first the warm-up is going successful, you run with the rest of the girls to warm up and try and obtain the energy needed, you're feeling good and motivated about the game.
It's going well until it's not...
You can't help but wobble slightly as there's a light pounding in the back of your head, you just put it down to dehydration instead rather than the after-effects of illness instead.
"You alright, Y/N?" Lia notices you stumble slightly and frowns.
"I... I'm good" You're crouching over slightly as you feel out of breath but you try and play it off like its' nothing instead.
"You're sure?" Lia checks in as she's not too keen to give up on the conversation yet.
"Oh yeah I'm great, I'm totally fine" You insist as you try and push off the terrible feeling that you felt looming; You couldn't afford to miss this game due to illness.
"Y/N..." Lia still doesn't look totally convinced, but she knows better than to try and push you.
"I'm fine, really Lia... Uh huh, yep I'm cool" You nod and quickly run off in the opposite direction to avoid any further questions and concerns.
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"Okay, kid. This is it, your time to shine!" Katie's enthusiastic voice comes from behind you in the lineup. "Are you ready for this?" she asks.
You were reluctant to acknowledge that your headache was intensifying. The throbbing sensation in your temple caused you to tightly shut your eyes, and the noise emanating from the crowd only made it worse.
It's worth mentioning that your throat feels somewhat scratchy again. However, you have to play in this game, so you pretend it's nothing and that you're fine.
"I was born ready, let's go!" You cheer and try to be like your usual upbeat self, but never mind how terrible you still feel.
"Let's go girls!" Kim exclaims, leading the team onto the pitch alongside the Bristol team.
As you walk out to the pitch with the rest of your team, you try to keep up the facade of looking happy. You attempt to block out the pounding feeling in your temple, knowing that you only have to make it through 90 minutes before you can finally flop down and fall asleep once again.
As soon as the whistle blows and the game starts, you get your first touch on the ball and begin racing all over the pitch. Despite fighting off the flu, you don't give Bristol a chance to gain possession of the ball.
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It all happened too quickly for you to realise what is happening at that moment. The team is 2-1 ahead of Bristol when everything went wrong.
You went to intercept the ball, a simple move that you had done plenty of times. Suddenly, as you got your toe on the ball, ready to pass it in the direction of Alessia, you felt a sudden pop in your knee, followed by a sharp pain that felt excruciating.
"Agh!" You scream as you fall down onto the pitch in agony.
"Y/N!" Beth is the first to crouch beside you, concern spread across her face. "What's happened?" she questions, worriedly.
The sound of the whistle echoes through the stadium as the girls rush to your side to check on you; the noise is suddenly silent as the crowd of fans watches on in despair as Arsenal's wonder kid falls down on the pitch.
"What hurts-- What's happened?" Katie asks, concerningly as she joins you on the other side.
The tears well up in your eyes as you clutch your knee to stop the pain, "My knee... It's my knee!" You exclaim, letting out a sound of whimpering. "I heard it... I heard the pop!" You add.
"It's okay, Y/N. Don't panic; everything is going to be fine" Viv says as she quickly comes to your side. She had been subbed on to replace Alessia, but you couldn't help but feel awful. This was supposed to be Viv's comeback, her return to the pitch after her ACL injury, and instead, you selfishly took the spotlight away from her.
You could see the girls exchanging looks as they signalled for medics. It's at that moment that you realise you have made a grave mistake. Even though nobody spoke, it was clear that the situation was not good.
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© scribblesofagoonerr
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biblio-smia · 3 months
Note
IDEA
Mike vs. Spicy food
oh how weak i am for white boys
the food you cook isn't spicy. sure, there'll be an occasional chili flake added for a tiny bit of kick, but it's not spicy.
a little bit too much falls out of the container, though, pieces too small for you to recover. but you taste it and still find it mild, so you shrug it off and finish the meal.
the extra spices have no effect on abby, who gets through her entire plate with a shy smile that means she wants seconds. so your clumsiness hadn't ruined the dish; you breathe a sigh of relief.
it's not until mike comes home from work and fixes himself a plate that you worry, his loud coughs and red face sending you into a panic while he downs his cup of water. you think he's choked on his food until he asks how much spice you added - and the worry has dissolved into laughter.
mike doesn't appreciate your teasing, abby coming in to let him know that she had no criticisms of your dish - just to rub it in further.
"i'm not- it's delicious," mike insists, going in for a second bite. he focuses hard on the flavor rather than the way his mouth feels like it's been set on fire, chasing it down with cool water that only temporarily soothes.
"mike, don't force yourself," you chide, moving to take his plate.
"no, no-" mike is interrupted by his own coughing, his own throat betraying him.
you give him a knowing look and move to pull the food towards you; you were planning on eating some more with mike, anyway.
"it really is good," mike insists with a frown.
"it is," you quip. "too bad you have absolutely no spice tolerance."
"hey, i do!" mike scoffs. "i can eat that normally, and that's pretty spicy."
you stare at mike with a grin of disbelief, shaking your head. "mike, it's normally not spicy. like, at all."
mike's expression falls and you burst into laughter.
"okay, okay. can you eat hot chips?"
"don't like them."
"buldok noodles?"
"i think those would kill me."
"is it bad that i kind of want to see that?"
"you're the one who'd lose a boyfriend."
you laugh, loudly. "i can't believe i never knew this."
"okay, i'm not that bad." mike insists.
"worse than abby," you grin.
mike groans, dropping his face into his palms. "you're the worst."
you giggle. "i love you! and am never going to stop making fun of you!"
you pull mike's hands away from his face to give him a gentle kiss on his still-warm cheek. "you're cute."
mike bites back a smile, feigning indifference.
"my family is going to completely destroy you."
mike's smile drops.
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bonus:
"think you can handle a bite?" you hold up a small bunch of noodles covered in a dark sauce.
mike scoffs. they didn't look that bad. he nods, moving closer to let you feed him a bite.
he doesn't even get halfway through the bite.
"what... is that?" mike heaves out, racing for the ice cream in the freezer. he's shoving spoonfuls into his mouth as he hunches over the sink, breathing heavily. "it... feels like.... hell in... my mouth!"
mike shakes his head as you laugh, coming up behind him and rubbing his back.
"how can you eat that?" mike's voice is muffled through the mouthful of ice cream, his chest heaving as he tries to collect his breath.
you're having trouble catching your breath, too; all the laughing has winded you. "i'm sorry, i'm sorry," you gasp out, arms encircling mike's waist.
mike spins in your hold, facing you and wrapping his arms around you. "that was a murder attempt."
"you agreed to try!"
mike shakes his head and you reach for his face, wiping a little bit of ice cream residue from his lips. "aww, honey," you coo with a grin.
"you're mocking me."
"i'm not!" you laugh, but you're clearly not convincing. "i'll make it up to you."
mike hums, pressing his face in the crook of your neck. "i guess i accept."
you laugh again, quietly, kissing just under mike's ear softly.
"bland," you whisper softly.
"okay!" mike splits from you, your laughter echoing behind him as he heads to the bathroom. you'd only just caught your breath when you hear mike call:
"that stained my lips!"
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masterlist | requests are open!
290 notes · View notes
roosterforme · 8 months
Text
Always Ever Only You Part 3 | Rooster x Reader
Summary: Bradley just wants to make you as happy as you make him, and he hates it when you won't even let him try. But when your frustration boils over, you snap at the person you believe deserves it the most.
Warnings: Fluff, smut, angst, swearing
Length: 4200 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader
This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order. Gorgeous banner by @mak-32
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You had been foolishly holding out hope. Until your period actually began, you'd been telling yourself that maybe there was still a chance. Maybe you had just taken the pregnancy test too early. Maybe you got a false negative.
So when you woke up for work on Monday and needed a tampon, you scolded yourself for your optimism. There was no point in it, because it only made you feel worse in the long-run. 
Bradley rubbed your shoulders and kissed your neck as you put your contacts in at the bathroom vanity. You looked gross. You were bloated, and your face was broken out. You vowed to stick to a better diet until you lost some weight. 
"Morning, Baby Girl," he murmured against your ear. It wasn't even fair. You wanted him all the time. He was perfect all the time. His voice gave you chills. 
"Morning," you whispered. "My period started." Your voice shook pathetically. 
"It's okay," he promised. "It's going to be okay." 
But you really felt like it wasn't. And work was pissing you off. When you got to your lab, you remembered that you and Cat were going to be spending the day working on proposals together. Great. 
"Did you have fun at the Hard Deck?" you asked her, practically throwing your computer onto the counter next to hers. 
She looked up at you, and you could tell she wanted to roll her eyes. "It was fun," she replied. "Not really my scene, but I can see where it would be yours."
You wanted to ask her what that was supposed to mean, but you bit your tongue. You wouldn't give her the satisfaction of thinking you cared about her opinion of you. And you were definitely going to have to tell Jake to get a crush on a hot looking woman who was actually nice, because you'd had just about enough of this. He had bugged you all night at the bar to introduce him to Cat again. He asked you about her all the time, but there was nothing to tell.
You took a seat and pounded away at your keyboard, working all morning while trying to ignore your cramps and your irritation with the woman next to you. Neither of you spoke a word about anything personal. It was all professional. When you noticed that it was noon, you said, "Let's take a break," in as bright a voice as you could.
Jake was waiting in the doorway for you. Or maybe he was just trying to catch a glimpse of Cat. But regardless, when you approached him, he smiled and handed you a container of soup from the cafeteria. "Angel. Let's eat in your office," he drawled. And when Cat breezed past him, he murmured, "Hi, Lieutenant Coleman."
She smirked in response, and Jake turned to watch her walk the entire way down the hall. "You're such a dog," you told him, inspecting the soup and finding it was chicken noodle. "You just need to get laid. Go to the bar tonight. There'll be a line of girls waiting for you."
He met your eyes and shook his head. "I'm not really doing that anymore."
You snorted as he followed you to your office. "Could you imagine if I agreed to go out with you? Bradley and I would have never happened after that."
Jake kicked his booted foot along your office floor before he plopped down into your extra chair. "Yeah, well... he'd have likely killed me if we went out. But, hey, you're not listening to me, Angel. Tell me more about Cat Coleman."
You sighed and ate some soup. "She's mean to me, okay? She doesn't like me."
"I don't believe you."
"It's true. She's so bitchy to me but nice to everyone else. She makes fun of the way I work. She won't eat lunch with me. She avoids me all the time. She hates me."
You swallowed another spoonful of soup, and tears immediately sprung to your eyes. You looked up at Jake, and you knew he could tell something was wrong immediately. When he jumped to his feet, you tried to wave him off, but he was kneeling next to your chair and rubbing your hand before you knew it. 
"What happened?" he asked softly. When you didn't respond, he gave you a few seconds before asking, "Do you want me to go get Rooster?"
"No," you croaked, your throat burning with the effort to talk. "I'm fine."
"You do not sound fine. You can talk to me about anything, right?"
"Right."
"Well, I'm all ears."
And he just knelt there next to you while you told him how much you hated going to your lab now. And you told him that you had your period. And then you said, "Bradley and I are trying to start a family, but it's just not happening."
"Hey," he said, letting you cry it out. "You and Bradley are already a family. Plus, you've got Tramp. And Nat and I are like siblings you guys never even wanted."
You kind of shrugged at him. "It's not the same thing."
"I know that, but sometimes it takes time," he told you.
"It's been four months," you whispered. 
Jake stood up and pulled you to your feet, and then he wrapped you in a hug so tight, his name tag was digging into your collarbone. "Just give it some time. You want me to talk to Rooster?"
"No. Let's just finish eating lunch."
-----------------------
Bradley had been trying all week. Kissing along your neck and rubbing your hips through your khakis while you made dinner. But you finally snapped at him on Wednesday night when you were trying to cut up some sun dried tomatoes for the Marry Me Rooster he had requested. 
"I'm trying to cook dinner, Bradley. Yes, I realize you're trying to get me in the mood. Yes, I can feel your erection. No, I don't want to have sex. I look gross, and I feel gross." You set down your knife and turned to face him. He had taken one huge step away from you, and now he was looking at you with the saddest brown eyes. 
"I'm sorry," he muttered, running his fingers through his hair as he walked down the hallway toward your bedroom. 
"Shit," you whispered as you rushed after him. "I'm sorry."
He was standing next to the bed unbuttoning his uniform shirt when you walked in and headed right for him. But he didn't say anything, just yanked his shirt off and tossed it onto the bed. The sight of him in his khaki pants and black undershirt had you sucking in a deep breath. It wasn't that you didn't want him. You just didn't even want yourself right now.
"Bradley," you whispered. 
"Nah. I'm going to go workout in the garage," he told you, stripping out of his pants and digging in a drawer for some gym shorts. "I'll eat later. Don't wait for me."
You watched him walk back out of the room. Then he called for Tramp, and you heard the sliding glass door open and then close. You went back to the kitchen and finished making dinner. You had to fight the urge to go out to the garage and get Bradley, because somehow you knew you'd just end up making things worse. You made him a beautiful plate of dinner and left it on the island. And then you got yourself ready for bed. You were no longer hungry. 
------------------------
Bradley was stressing out. He could feel his composure crumbling as every maneuver he performed in the air was wrong. Everything felt wrong. It was like he and his Super Hornet were out of sync. Like he couldn't trust himself. 
"What are you doing, Rooster?" Phoenix asked him through the comms. But Bradley didn't even know how to respond, because he hadn't been paying attention. He was distracted. He was never like this in the air. 
And then he heard Maverick call his team back to the ground, and he knew it was his fault. He wished he could take all of the pushups for Phoenix and Bob as well, but it was a team effort after all. So Bradley had to try to keep calm while he could feel them glaring at him through all two hundred pushups.
He had been like this all week. Nothing made as much sense to him as flying did. Well, other than you. But things had been a little rough and unpredictable at home. He wasn't really trying to do it, but he had begun to memorize when you were ovulating and when your period was due. Fucking you was no chore, but he was absolutely ready for you to miss a period. He was obsessed with the idea of you showing him a positive pregnancy test. But it just... wasn't happening yet.
And now he was putting pressure on himself. Because he knew he was a ticking time bomb. He felt it in his bones. Any day now, he would be getting deployment papers. And then you would be alone for who knows how long. Weeks or months. Bradley would be on an aircraft carrier in the Pacific Ocean, and you would be at home, worrying about him. And the mission to make a baby would be put on hold, replaced by a different kind of mission.
The thing was, all of this was bothering him a hell of a lot more now, because it was bothering you so much. 
Bradley slammed his locker closed only to find Jake standing there. "You better pull it together, Bradshaw," he said so calmly that it pissed Bradley off even more. "Or you're going to get grounded."
"Do you think I don't know that?" Bradley asked, getting in his face. "Do you think I don't know I'm flying like shit right now?"
But Jake didn't move an inch, and his expression didn't change. "I think whatever is bothering you... well, you should take it home to your wife. Angel will help you feel better."
Bradley took a deep breath and let it out slowly, leaning against his locker with his fist clenched. "She's part of the fucking problem," Bradley growled, and he watched Jake's eyes grow wide. 
Jake gaped at him before he said, "I can't think of a single time you've ever said something like that about her." His feelings seemed to be hurt on your behalf, but Bradley didn't know how to explain how he felt. 
"When she puts pressure on herself, all I want is to relieve it for her," he told Jake softly, trying to unclench his fist. "But I can't. She won't let me."
Jake sighed. "I think I know what it's about. She's been pretty upset. Tried to tell her it's not her fault, but I can tell she's blaming herself."
Bradley could feel his cheeks flushing. You and Jake were close. The other man probably did know some details about your intimate moments with Bradley which was kind of mortifying. However, Bradley would never want you to feel like you couldn't confide in someone you trusted. It was just hard to gasp that Jake was oftentimes that person for you. 
"We just want to have a baby," Bradley growled. 
"It's only been a few months," Jake reminded him. "Deep down, Angel knows it takes time."
Bradley looked up at the flickering fluorescent bulb. "Sometimes I feel like I'm never doing enough for her," he whispered, grabbing his bag and brushing past Jake. 
But he almost ran into Payback on his way out. "What are you still doing here, man?" he asked with a grin. "If I had a girl as hot as your wife, I'd be home by now, pumping her full of babies."
The urge to punch his friend directly in the face was so strong, Bradley had to bite his lip and keep moving. He needed to get home to you but not take this out on you. That would be unacceptable. Because while you were adding to his stress, he would never tell you that. 
You were already home when he walked inside, and Bradley had to try to fight for composure. "Hi," he managed to say. Of course you looked impossibly cute, laying with Tramp on the couch in Bradley's oversized UVA tee and a pair of his boxer briefs. He wasn't sure how he was supposed to keep his hands off you right now, but you'd been distant with him for more than a week. 
"How was your day?" you asked him softly.
Somehow your sweet voice just made him angry. Your voice and your gorgeous face and the way he could see your nipples through the shirt. And Bradley couldn't help himself. His voice was rough to his own ears, and he sounded mad. "My day fucking sucked. It was terrible," he growled. "I flew like an asshole. I got everyone assigned to pushups. I was so distracted from work, thinking about you."
Your eyes were wide as you sat up. "Thinking about me?" Tramp jumped to the floor and ran over to sniff at Bradley's boots as he untied them. 
"Yeah," he grunted, wrestling out of his flight suit and tossing it to a heap on the floor. His skin felt too hot. He needed to go for a run or lift weights. "I told you I think about you all the damn time. And today, trust me, I wish I hadn't been."
"What does that mean?" you asked him, standing up between the couch and the coffee table, your lips forming a little pout. 
Bradley yanked his undershirt off as well, standing just inside the front door in only his compression shorts and his socks. "It means I'm mad because you won't let me try to make you feel better! You don't even want to talk to me, but you'll talk to Jake! I'm fucking pissed that you're skipping meals and ditching me for lunch every day!"
Bradley took off toward the bedroom, leaving you behind. He was afraid of what else he was going to say if he didn't get some space to himself right now. And the last thing he wanted to do was make you cry. But when he got into the bedroom to get some workout clothes, you followed him. 
"I'm sorry," you whispered, biting your lip and looking at him with wide eyes.
"What are you sorry for?" he asked loudly, slamming his drawer shut instead of actually pulling anything out of it. "Tell me."
"I'm sorry I've been shutting you out, Roo." You took a deep breath and said, "I'm sorry I haven't been eating lunch with you. I know we can keep trying, but when I get my period now, I panic."
"You panic and talk to Jake," Bradley growled. When you simply nodded, his blood boiled. He knew he was red in the face as he closed the distance to you. The words were there before he could take them back. "If you want to talk to Jake all the time, maybe you should have married him."
Your lips parted soundlessly, and then you moaned. A needy sound, from the back of your throat. One that had Bradley's cock stirring immediately. 
"I don't want him. I've never wanted him. I just want you."
"Do you want me right now, Baby Girl? Because I wanna fuck you right here," he said as calmly as he could, but his voice was still gruff and unsteady. "You're going to have to tell me to go out back to the garage if you want me to keep my hands to myself. Okay? Because I want my wife. But I will settle for my hand and then the bench press if you don't want me back."
You whimpered, reaching for the hem of the tee shirt and guiding it up over your hips. "I am so turned on," you whispered. "Please."
"Please what?" Bradley demanded, running his hand along his cock through his shorts. 
"Daddy," you gasped in shock. Like you couldn't even believe you said it to him. Like you needed him as badly as he needed you. "Fuck me."
"Baby Girl," he whispered harshly as he pressed himself against you.
You yanked the shirt over your head and pulled his boxer briefs down over your delicious hips as you moaned, "I want my husband."
His cock was fully at attention now as he stroked your dainty Rooster tattoo with his fingertips. "I'm right here," he growled, watching you step out of his underwear and kick them aside. Your eyes were wide and fixed on his as you stood naked before him. "You gonna let me take care of you?"
"Yes," you gasped when he moved his hand to your pussy. "Are you still angry, Daddy? From your bad day?"
Bradley raised one eyebrow. He knew how he sounded. He knew he was breathing heavily. He also felt how fucking wet you were as he slid his middle finger along your slit. 
"Do you want me to be?" he asked before placing a rough kiss to your lips. 
"Yes," you moaned, and in one swift movement, Bradley had the front of your body pressed up against the wall next to the bedroom door. You squealed and braced yourself with both hands as he gently kicked your legs a little further apart. 
"You like making me this way?" he growled next to your ear before sucking hard on your neck. "I think you do."
Bradley reached his hands up to squeeze your tits as you whined his name. He stroked your nipples softly with his thumbs while he sucked on your neck some more. 
Then he took his cock in his right hand and guided himself to your opening. He filled you in one swift motion, and started fucking you so hard, your face almost hit the wall. He caught you with his hand on your jaw as you whimpered for him. 
"You think it's fun to get me all pissed off at work?" he asked, low and soft. "You love having so much control over me, don't you?"
"I do," you whispered as he turned your face so you were looking at him over your shoulder. 
"You love knowing I think about your voice during lectures. Think about your body when I'm flying. I can't stop thinking about how much I love fucking you," he said, his voice getting louder as he pressed his forehead against your perfect cheek and brushed his fingers over your tattoo before stroking your clit.
You cried out for him. "I do, Daddy! I love it!"
Bradley was determined to get you off. He wouldn't have a repeat of the dining room floor. Not today. He went a little harder, a little deeper. He listened to the incoherent words tumbling out of your mouth. And then he said, "Try and find someone better than me. Someone else who can fuck you this good. You can't."
"No!" you grunted, your fingers bending, nails digging into the wall. You were struggling to look at him as your eyes fluttered closed. 
He kissed along your jaw before ending at your ear and whispering, "I love you." And then he felt it. That beautiful clench of your pussy as you came for him. He knew the feel of you so well. He wanted to take care of everything for you. He needed to give you everything you wanted. Be everything you needed. 
He came for you too, hands drifting to your hips as his movements slowed. You were unsteady on your feet as you turned to face him. Bradley's cum was dripping down your legs and onto the floor as you reached for him. Then you were in his arms, kissing him just right with your fingers in his hair. And he couldn't remember why he'd been upset in the first place. 
"I love you," you whispered against his lips. Bradley stumbled back onto the bed with you wrapped up with him. When he fell back with you on top of him, you laughed. 
"Come here," he coaxed, and you straddled his waist and kissed him until your lips were puffy. When he tried to move, you held him down and kissed him some more. He felt himself relax completely with every little sound you made and every swipe of your tongue against his. 
"Roo," you crooned, your lips moving to his neck and kissing him softly there.
He groaned and started to sit up. "What's it called when the foreplay comes after sex?"
You giggled. "Post play?"
"Shit, Sweetheart," he said, letting you keep going with your lips. "You want more?"
"Mmhmm," you hummed against his skin, setting his nerve endings ablaze. 
"Give me a minute, and I'll take care of you again."
--------------------
You were sore on Monday morning. In the best kind of way. You and Bradley had spent the weekend talking and having sex. And then having more sex. Only taking a break to go grocery shopping and swing by the Hard Deck. Jake knew right away that you were both feeling much better. He was always so patient with you that you found it hard not to smile when he bought you and Bradley beers. 
You needed to be more open with Bradley. And you would be. And starting today, you'd meet him and Nat in the cafeteria unless you really were honestly working through lunch instead of hiding in your office. You just needed to get through your morning with Cat. Which was easier said than done.
She gave you short answers to every question. When you asked her to type up some of the notes you wrote, she looked at you with a raised eyebrow. "Shouldn't you have typed this up yourself?"
You sighed. "I worked it up over the weekend. In my free time. I read it to my husband as I wrote it, and it seemed to flow easier when I wrote it."
She scrutinized your notebook. "Well I can barely read it. I'll work in the code while you type it up. I'm better at the code anyway."
Was she implying she was better at coding than typing? Or that she was better at coding than you were? She made you so mad. The next time Jake mentioned how beautiful her eyes were, you were going to pummel him. 
Everyone else had already deserted the lab when you realized what time it was. "Should we take a lunch break?" you asked, scrambling to lock up your computer. Bradley and the others were probably waiting for you already. You did not want to disappoint him today. Not after such a perfect weekend. 
"Fine," Cat agreed. Her tone was short, like you were throwing off her entire day by deciding to take lunch at lunchtime. 
You squared your shoulders and turned to face her as she stood up. Then you blurted out, "I don't understand what I did to make you dislike me."
Cat froze in place, her eyes appraising your face. You felt the prickle of embarrassment along your skin, and you were afraid she was going to laugh in your face. But she just shook her head slowly. "I don't dislike you."
"Yes, you do," you scoffed, your embarrassment swiftly replaced with annoyance. 
"No, Lieutenant Commander. I do not," she said, firmly closing her computer. Then she went off, and you didn't stop her. "But your life is so perfect, it's honestly hard for me to relate to you. Even at work. Your husband dotes on you. He's always in the lab, bringing you snacks and asking you about your day. You've got Seresin in here all the time, too. And you're the golden child. Bickel sings your praises at the meetings every week."
Your eyes were bugging out. "But, that's not-"
She cut you off and kept going. "You and I both have the same master's degree, but I'm a year older than you, and you outrank me." Her voice sounded bitter as she said, "I'm a single mom. My life is a mess. I'm broke. We live with my uncle. I feel like a joke all the time. But your life is perfect. And trust me, I wish more than anyone else that I wasn't jealous of you." 
You stood completely still and watched her walk out of the lab and disappear down the hallway. Your life was not perfect. The fact that it maybe looked that way to someone else shocked you. Cat thought she was a mess. Well, you were a mess, too. But she was a mom. 
A moment later, you followed her down the hallway toward the cafeteria where Bradley was waiting for you with a smile on his face and a bottle of your favorite hot sauce on his tray.
-------------------------
Oh. Cat's a little jelly of BG. Well, Cat... BG just might be a little jelly of you. Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls
PART 4
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623 notes · View notes
ddarker-dreams · 9 months
Note
Scarlet Ribbons accidental kisses with the gang? (I love your writing so much! You're one of the best fanfic writers <3 <3 I reread your works so often, they make my day : D)
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wahhh thank you so much, i'm happy to know my writing can bring you some joy!!! 💖
i'm going to assume that this request takes place before SR reader is in a relationship with anyone, hopefully that's what you had in mind hkjetgrmw maybe something like she started to trip and x guy went to catch her? some traditional shoujo exploits ...
[Scarlet Ribbons index]
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Giorno
There's a 99% chance Giorno's sentient Stand, GER, had a hand in this. The Stand shares Giorno's affection for you and wishes his user would hurry up in courting you already. Giorno catches onto the shenanigans at play but it's too late — while catching you, your lips make contact. His face has never felt so warm. He tries portraying himself in this suave, calm manner, but when you're in his general vicinity, it's a challenge to maintain this balanced state. His voice is a few pitches higher when he rushes through an apology. The Don of Passione would feel less nervous starting down the barrel of a gun. Later, he chastises his conniving Stand, but deep down… he's secretly grateful.
Bruno
Bruno doesn't immediately pull away and thinks less of himself because of it. He's straining himself to the degree that veins start protruding from his forehead. Your comfort matters far more to him than satisfying any carnal needs. After he ensures you're steady, he puts an appropriate amount of distance between you, then starts apologizing for the mishap. If you're feeling particularly mischievous, now would be the most opportune time to tease him. He's usually immune to being flustered, even from you, but the emotions running rampant through his system momentarily lower his defenses. There'll be a slight blush on his sunkissed skin. He's quick to excuse himself so he can get his heart under control.
Fugo
Fugo struggles to make eye contact with you for a solid week. Once he gets past the initial slew of positive hormones that make him feel like he's on cloud nine, reality settles in, and he's mortified. What if you think he's a creep who did it on purpose? The thought alone leads to sleepless nights where he gnaws on his nails. He berates himself and is extra prone to explode with anger at the slightest provocation. You need to reassure him before there's collateral damage. He's still stiff around you for a while, but that's because his eyes start wandering to your lips if he isn't careful. His own start tingling, as if remembering the soft sensation and longing to experience it again.
Mista
Mista knew the lord was on his side. The last time he attended mass, he prayed for something like this to happen. The main objective henceforth is to maintain his cool. Ride out the waves of coincidence and try not to come off too strong, lest he scare you away. Once he's certain you aren't going to unleash your wrath upon him, the cogs in his brain begin turning. What can he say to sweeten the moment? Win you over with his charisma and charm? There's got to be a perfect combination of words that'll have you weak to your knees. Eventually, he settles on complimenting your chapstick flavor. He later bemoans himself for not saying something cooler.
Narancia
It's like raw caffeine was injected into his veins. He's absolutely ecstatic, ready to bounce from wall to wall, even though he recognizes it was an accident. Who cares? This has got to be fate, or whatever it's called, he thinks he heard the term in a movie once. Narancia is bragging about it to absolutely everyone, much to their chagrin (especially Fugo's). Abbacchio pours salt into Narancia's drink when he isn't looking as a silent form of vengeance. You come into the room and everyone aside from Narancia is grumpy. You're absolutely his first kiss, a fact he takes great pride in. That is, until he wonders if he's your first kiss… then his mood is slightly pampered… for all of ten minutes. Then he's back to beaming, uncaring of anything besides the fact your lips made contact.
Abbacchio
Abbacchio cannot remember the last time his heart pounded this hard — if ever. Still, he doesn't linger in the moment. He may be harsh around the edges, but he still cares for you greatly, the last thing he wants is to make you uncomfortable. When he parts and sees his purple lipstick smudged onto your pretty, parted lips… it is a divine test of his self-control. That mental image has never left him. He's stuck between not feeling worthy of your affection and wanting to kiss you until the pigment stains your lips a deeper color. It's a dilemma. If he isn't constantly distracting himself, his mind runs off to fantasize.
412 notes · View notes
bandgie · 5 months
Text
My Pretty Baby
idol!Bangchan x sexworker!reader
part 1 | part 2 | part 3
a/n: final part hehe, sorry if it's not spicy, I really wanted to focus on emotional stuff or whatever
synopsis: Running into 'Koala' outside of work was not on your bucket list for your mini-vacation. The interaction, however, makes emotions you thought you've locked away for good come out. Maybe, with him, you're willing to take a chance.
warnings: MDNI 18+, there really won't be much smut but there'll be mentions of it, suggestive content, kinda angsty with happy ending
2k words
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Four days.
You only had four days of relaxation before you went back to work. It's not that you hated your job, quite the contrary. You just liked being your own person. Living in your own flesh without having to worry if your client was also okay with your body.
So you stood in line at a Starbucks waiting for your turn. You were rehearsing your order in your head, repeating the phrase a grande strawberry açaí please, when you felt a pair of eyes searing your skin.
Hesitantly, you look behind you towards the entrance of the cafe to see him staring at you. It took a while for you to recognize him. He was dressed in all black, a beanie and mask covering nearly all his features save for the eyes. You could, however, see the brown curls that peeked through.
This normally wouldn't have bothered you, but the familiarity in his eyes made you feel exposed. More naked than you have in your entire life. The way his pupils expand at the sight of you, how you swear you can see his breath catch in his throat. You confirmed it was Koala when he began walking to you, ignoring the way the people in line shot him dirty glares.
"Shit," you cursed. You whisked the other way around and started on your heels.
You were heading for the exit, ignoring how you could hear his heavy footsteps follow behind you. Koala's identity is further verified when he bumps into customers. His urgent, accented sorry's and excuse me's ringing in your ears.
It's not as though you've never seen your clients outside of work. Despite you working in a big city, it was bound to happen. There was just something about seeing him that you didn't like. Koala is sweet, caring, slightly insecure in a way that makes you want to comfort him.
He's never told you directly, but you can feel it. You can feel it in the way he fucks you. How his shaky, yet soft hands caress your body. The way his eyes light up when you praise him when he hits that spot so good. He lives to hear compliments, to hear that he's worthy of such endearing words from you.
You loved the power trip it gave you. How Koala hung off every word you said. How you could either save or break him from mere sentences. That's what it was at first, power. Control you thought you lost from all the people you had to please for an extra buck. With Koala, you didn't need to act submissive, you didn't need to be anyone but yourself.
He still wanted you.
That knowledge made you ache for him in more ways than physical. His company, his laugh, his kindness. You craved it. Working in the field you did had people forget that you were more than an object of pleasure. Forgetting that you were human entirely. It's why you also hung onto his words. You were also giving Koala that same power you held over him.
That scared you.
It's the very reason why you've been avoiding him. When the bartender would tell you of Koala's arrival, you would shoo him away. Coming up with excuses that you're busy, you didn't feel good, you were leaving early.
When you did let Koala see you, it was brief. You've gotten used to his body, and he yours. You knew what he liked, what made him cum all over himself. It didn't matter if you only let him use your hands, your thighs, Koala was willing to use anything you gave him.
He lost himself in the feeling of pleasure, the feeling of you. He didn't care if his cock was rubbed raw, oh so sensitive to the touch. He would pay extra just to spend more time with you. He would whine, whimper from how you stroked him, but he wouldn't ask you to stop.
That meant the time with you was over, and God knows when he'd see you again. If you'd let him that is.
You reasoned it's why he was shouting for you even when you made your way out of that cursed coffee shop. People turned and raised eyebrows, but you ignored them all. You can ignore Koala, all you have to do is go to your car and-
"Nyx!"
The way your heart fell to your stomach made you stop in your tracks. Your abrupt halt made Koala stumble right into you, his broad chest smacking into your back.
He was apologizing, but you paid no mind to it. Instead, you spun around and gripped Koala by his shirt. His eyes widened as you forced him down to your height, seething.
"Don't," your voice was reprimanding. You could feel your face heat up from the anger that boiled in you. "Don't ever call me that name outside of my work. Fuck is wrong with you?"
Koala nods at you, stumbling and stuttering with apologies. "I'm s-sorry. Really I wasn't thinking! I was just trying to get to you and I didn't know how to-"
"Yeah you weren't thinking." You let go of his shirt take a deep breath. He looks remorseful, anxious. He couldn't stop playing with the hem of his shirt, the material bundling in his fingers. Pity quickly started to take over the anger, and you raised your hands to smooth out the crumpled wrinkles you left on the top of his shirt.
"Why were you trying to get to me?" You ask after a few beats of silence. Your question makes him look away shyly, his breaths shorten and quicken.
"I really don't know how to say it..." He trails off.
His head lift up to the sky, and you mimic this actions. The clouds have turned a pretty pink from the sunset. There's slight breeze in the air that makes you shiver. As if the beautiful sight gives him courage, Koala pushes on.
"That's a lie. I do know how to say it. I...I can't stop thinking about you. I don't think you've left my mind since we first met. Going to that type of...place really isn't my thing. I honestly didn't even wanna go, I was just desperate. I wasn't happy, I haven't been happy for a while now."
He takes a deep breath. You can see the tears in his eyes, it makes you want to reach out and comfort him. Tell him he'll be okay, that everything will be fine. Still, you keep your hands glued to your sides, waiting for him to compose himself before he continues.
"I mean, I am happy. I love my job, I love my friends, my family. I just hate having no one to share that happiness with, no one to come and hold me. No one to tell me that hard times will pass. No one to lean on."
You shift on your feet, anxiousness eating at you. You should tell him to stop, that it's enough. Where he's going, there's no going back. Client or not, feelings with or without, you shouldn't let him go on.
So why does hearing him speak make you so warm?
"It was temporary. It was supposed to be temporary. Pay some money, get a good night, forget the next morning. But I couldn't. I can't. I like how you hold me. I like how you make me feel relaxed. I like when we talk. You ask me about my day, and I actually want to talk about it."
"And don't tell me that's part of your job."
You quickly snap your mouth shut at Koala's words, a blush finding your cheeks. He must know you well if he knew that's exactly what you going to say. It's true though, getting personal is what gets the customers coming back.
Not with him though. That couldn't have been further from the truth.
"I've asked the bartender about you, and he said-"
"Wait you asked about me?" You interrupt him. Your arms cross against your chest. He looks at you sheepishly, a deer-in-headlights look before he nods.
"Kinda sorta, yeah. Nothing weird though! I was curious about you. I am curious about you. He said you were acting different since I came. He said you were also turning me down a lot. That you must like me a whole bunch to be turning down the money."
Next time you go into work, you'll make sure to give Oliver a piece of your mind.
"So you'll go off what a bartender says about me, about you, rather than me myself?" You try to make yourself sound assertive, but your voice is rather shaky.
"Well, that's why I'm here talking to you no?"
You go silent again, looking down to the ground. Your shoes have never looked more interesting. They really need a wash.
"Listen," he speaks gently. "I don't know how you feel, if you feel anything. But Nyx I-"
"See! There you go again!" You don't hide your wobbly voice this time. He, and everyone else in this near-empty parking lot, can hear the nervousness in your voice.
Vulnerability.
"You keep saying Nyx. I'm not Nyx! You don't know me! For fucks sake, all I call you is Koala. You like how I do this and you like how I do that, but you don't like me. You can't when you don't know who I am. You think you like me, but you like the image I am. You like my persona, you like her. Nyx is not me, I am not Nyx. It's an illusion, it's not real. None of this is."
Your chest heaves with emotion. The air you need to breathe seems to escape you.
"Why are you crying then?"
"What?" You touch your face to feet hot streams, your lips tasting the saltiness of them. You sniff and try to use your sleeve to wipe your tears away, but Koala cradles your face in his hands.
"If this isn't real, why are you crying?" His thumbs stroke your tears, an intimate gesture. He looks at you pained, as if seeing you cry breaks his heart.
"You're right. I don't know who you are, I don't know your name. There's nothing about your interests that I actually know about."
Your face falls for a moment, but Koala guides your head back up to his eyes.
"But I know how you make me feel. I know that I want to be around you all the time. No matter what you call yourself, what you are, who you are, I want to be with you. I don't care how we started, or where this goes. Right now, the only thing I care about is you."
You're sobbing now, trying to regain control of your breathing. You both must look insane. You're crying your eyes out in the middle of a parking lot as the moon begins to shine. Even then, Koala looks at you as if you're the most purest thing on this planet.
"Fuck. I'm so tired of calling you Koala. I feel like a fucken idiot." You both giggle at the sudden confession.
"So who are you? What's your name?" You question. He moves his hands away from you timidly. Immediately, your face gets cold from his lack of warmth. He uses those same hands to peel away his disguise, his beanie and mask coming off.
There's a pink hue in his chubby cheeks, shy look in his eyes when he shows you his bare face. His brown eyes stick out against his pale skin, his plump lips twitching in anticipation. Without thinking, you brush the mess of hair away from his face, further exposing him.
"Pretty," You hum.
He blushes at your compliment, his ears turning red.
"You do look familiar though. I swear I've seen you on TV. Singer right?"
He nods. "Yeah. I have a lot of names. Bangchan, Channie, Christopher, Chris."
He grabs your hands and brings them up to his face, his full lips brush against your knuckles. You start wondering how you went so long without kissing him, without knowing what his lips looked liked.
There's no guarantee to what happens after this. There's no way you can go back to work knowing how he feels about you, how you feel about him. It's scary, not knowing what the future holds.
But you're with him, and maybe that's all that matters.
"I think I'll call you my pretty baby. If that's alright."
a/n: and that concludes this mini series of Chris. the last part took a lot of thinking. I didn't know how I wanted it to play out, what scenes I wanted to add. I just wanted this to end on an emotional connection, so I felt like adding smut wasn't really necessary in this instance. feedback is muuuchhh appreciated, I'm not that good at tugging heart strings lmao
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