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[roosterforme]

The Younger Kind Part 12 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: You and Bradley both know you need to have a conversation and define your relationship. Bradley is excited to get home to you and do just that... and then maybe take you to bed for the rest of the night. But when Meredith crashes the scene, and someone gets hurt, he has to change his plans.

Warnings: Smut, angst, swearing, fluff, and age gap (18+)

Length: 4500 words

Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader

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After Bradley dropped Noah off early at daycare on Friday morning, he had an hour until he needed to be on base. He wanted to get to you as soon as he could, but he stopped to get your coffee on the way. 

It was funny, because the baristas really did know him by this point, and they knew what his regular order was. He was probably the only person in the history of the coffee shop who asked to write the names on the cups himself. So he scrawled Princess and peasant on the two cups and handed the marker back to the barista, making sure to leave a tip. 

He knew where you lived, because it was very close to Penny's house, and he wondered if you were going to let him inside your place. He parked behind your car and made his way up to the front door of the small cottage that needed a lot of work. It was smaller than his house, which had more than enough room for three people. Bradley juggled both coffee cups into one hand and knocked.

And when you answered the door in your scrubs, fresh from the shower, he knew he was gaping at you. But you were no better as your eyes went a little wide at the sight of him in his flight suit with the sleeves tied around his waist. 

"Morning, Princess," he crooned softly, and you were smiling up at him as he handed you your coffee. "Give me your keys, and I'll move Noah's carseat into your car."

"You want to come in first?" you asked, and Bradley slipped willingly inside your living space. Everything had a dreamlike quality; he hadn't quite been able to imagine what your place would be like. When he was your age, he had owned nothing and had no one. Strangely enough, you seemed similar to how he had been, but it didn't come with a sense of sadness. You seemed independent and smart, and as you slipped your hand into his and pulled him further inside, Bradley leaned down to kiss your cheek.

"I would give you a tour, but there's nothing really to see," you told him, shrugging as you looked between your small living room and your small kitchen. 

"You gonna show me your secret Skittles stash?" he asked, earning a laugh. 

"Absolutely not," you replied. "You seem like the type who would have no self control if you knew the location. You'd eat them all in one sitting."

"That's not true," he promised, running his thumb along the back of your hand. "I'd save you half and you know it." He loved that smug smile on your lips, couldn't get enough, really. Then he looked around a little more, inhaling your sweet scent. He eyed a hoodie with Greek letters hanging on one of the hooks next to the door. "Were you in a sorority?" he asked, running his fingers along the fabric. 

With a soft laugh, you shook your head. "Uh, no. That belongs to my ex, Greyson. I keep forgetting to take it over to his apartment and drop it off."

Bradley eyed your pretty face and glossy lips. He knew all about college guys and cute girls, and he didn't want you going anywhere near Greyson's place anymore. "I could drop it off for you, Princess."

You released his hand and let your palm come to rest against his abs while you casually sipped your coffee. "You jealous, Daddy?"

Bradley hauled you against his body with a soft yelp, setting his coffee down on the table followed by yours. "Why don't you show me your bedroom?"

You wrapped your hands around the back of his neck and kissed him softly. "Won't you be late for work?"

"I don't care," he growled, letting his hands slide down your body until he was grabbing your ass and rubbing against you through the thin fabric of your scrubs. You were making soft sounds as you kissed him, and Bradley knew nothing except the desire to take care of you in every way.

"Okay, Daddy." You were leading him up the stairs, holding his hand and looking back at him as you led him into a room with a double bed and a dresser. Everything was tidy and it smelled so fucking good, Bradley was getting harder my the second. 

You looked at him expectantly as he started to untie your pants. Fuck. He was thinking about calling out of work and spending the day in your bed, showing you everything he could and would love to do to you. 

He licked his lips. "If we make this quick, I don't want you to think it's because I didn't want to spend hours with my face and cock buried inside you."

"Oh," you whimpered before you bit your lip. Bradley slipped his hand inside your underwear. You were soaking wet already, and so sensitive that you shook before him. 

He kissed your lips as he let his fingers glide through your silky wetness. Your hands were exploring his shoulders through his undershirt, and Bradley couldn't remember wanting anyone like this before. 

"Turn around, baby," he whispered, and you did just as you were told, bending over and bracing your hands on your bed. When he knelt behind you and yanked your pants and underwear down to your feet, he moaned at the gorgeous view he was treated to. 

"You okay?" you asked, since he had stopped touching you except to stroke your thighs with his thumbs. Bradley responded by nudging your legs a little further apart and kissing your pussy until his lips and mustache were all wet. You smelled and tasted so good. He wanted to smell like you for the rest of the day. You were whimpering softly, stuttering on his name, and as Bradley stood and unzipped his flight suit a few more inches, he basked in the genuinely needy noises you made.

You met his eyes over his shoulder, and he leaned down to kiss your cheek as he lined himself up with your tight pussy. "I just want to make you feel so good, Princess," he promised, pushing himself deep inside you with a groan. "You're too perfect for anything else."

"Bradley," you whined as he planted his hands next to yours on the bed. He covered your body with his larger one, wanting to protect you and make you feel like you belonged with him even while he fucked you. Maybe especially when he was fucking you.

"Princess," he whispered, kissing along the back of your neck and burying his nose in your hair. The slapping of his thighs against yours was filling the room, and Bradley had to bite his lip against the sensation of how damn tight you felt. He could cum now, he was certain of that, but he wanted to make everything good for you. "I want you to cum for me."

You took Bradley's right hand in yours and kissed his fingertips before guiding his hand so he was touching your clit. He groaned next to your ear and you turned to kiss the corner of his lips. "Touch me?" 

Bradley sucked on your neck while he spread you open and circled your clit with his middle finger. You were panting, exposing more of your neck for him to nibble on as you bucked back into his thrusts. But that first squeeze had him seeing stars as you keened. And then you got louder and louder until you were whining Daddy at full volume, back arched as you came for him.

When he finished a moment later, he let his hand drift up your body over your perfect skin until he was stroking you gently through your bra. "I can't wait to see you later tonight, Princess."

"Mmm," you sighed as he withdrew from your body. Then you stood and pulled your clothing back into place, and Bradley knew he would be thinking about your cum soaked underwear until he saw you later and got to do it all over again. 

"I think you earned your very own bag of Skittles," you whispered, running your hands along his chest and up to his shoulders. 

Bradley took your chin between his thumb and fingers. "I'm curious to know what you're going to give me after I spread you out on my bed later and really take my time."

Your eyes fluttered closed as he kissed you until you whimpered. 

"Shit, I need to go, Princess. Let me put the car seat in your car."

You took his hand and led him back downstairs, grabbing a bag of Skittles from a kitchen drawer and handing it to him while he looked at Greyson's hoodie again. "Thanks, baby. You know... I meant it. I can drop that off for you if you want me to." Simply the idea of letting your twenty three year old ex boyfriend know that you were currently getting fucked by him had Bradley grinning.

You pressed your lips together and tucked the Skittles into the pocket of Bradley's flight suit before saying, "That sounds like something a boyfriend would do."

He sucked in a breath, because you were fucking right. Flipping your ex the proverbial bird was boyfriend behavior, and he wanted to do it anyway. As it was, he already wanted you with him and Noah all the time. He knew he needed to talk to you about defining what was going on, because the app was off his phone now, and he'd been wanting you for weeks.

The expectant look in your eyes had him kissing your lips, and you had the audacity to lick his still damp mustache and moan. Would he get in trouble with Maverick if he stayed longer and had you again? But then his phone rang, and he discreetly silenced it as soon as he saw that it was Meredith.

"You and I are going to have a conversation later. Okay, Princess? Now where is your car key?"

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

Before you left for class, you bundled up Greyson's hoodie and shoved it into a shopping bag. You'd drop it by his place one day next week, so there was no sense in leaving it hanging around with your other things. 

Just seeing Noah's carseat in your backseat had you smiling. And that smile lasted all day while you were in class and filling out information for your clinical research work. You loved being the one who Bradley knew he could trust with his son. You loved spending time with Noah and making snacks for him. You had the All About the Letter N! coloring book tucked in your bag along with your textbooks, and after you took Noah to the park, you and he could color. And then Bradley would come home. And you and he could talk. And then hopefully you would be willingly spreading yourself out on his bed for the rest of the night.

With a soft moan, you pulled up the address of Noah's daycare in your phone's GPS and headed toward your car. It was only twenty minutes away. He would probably be hungry when you got there, which was fine, because you had some ants on logs in a cooler in your trunk just for him.

But the look on Noah's face when you were the one who arrived to pick him up made you smile so much, it hurt your face. "Did you have fun today?" you asked him as he climbed up into your arms and hugged you.

"Yeah! Did you bring a coloring book?"

"I sure did, Noah. And I brought you a snack. Do you want to go to the park and have your snack on a picnic table?"

As he nodded against your shoulder, you decided to just head right for the park in Bradley's neighborhood. You could change out of your scrubs later when you took Noah home for dinner. You brought something cute to change into, but Bradley wouldn't be home until closer to Noah's bedtime anyway. So you parked near the picnic tables, not too far from the playground equipment, and took the cooler out of your trunk before scooping Noah out of his carseat.

"Ready?" you asked, taking his tiny hand in yours as you slipped your sunglasses into place. "Let's have a snack first, and then we can go on the swings."

The playground was not crowded, but the kids that were there were running around, laughing and screaming with parents and grandparents. The picnic tables were empty, and you helped Noah climb up onto one of the benches and kissed his head.

"Have some ants," you told him, lining several carrots up on a napkin for him. You crunched into one as you settled onto the bench beside him. He ate the rest of them, leaving a mess of peanut butter on his face and hands, but you had wipes inside the cooler. 

"Were they good?" you asked, laughing as he looked inside the cooler for more as you wiped his cheek clean. "You want more?"

"Yes," he replied, turning toward you with wide eyes, looking so much like his dad that you had to laugh. You could probably cook nonstop for the two of them, and they would just keep eating. 

You kissed his forehead and scooped him up from the bench. You tucked your trash inside the cooler along with the ice pack and led him to the swings. "I'll make you more after dinner if you're still hungry."

"Promise?"

"Of course, I promise!" you replied. The breeze was picking up a bit, but it was still a beautiful day. And as you pushed him higher and higher at his request, you smiled at the dad next to you as he chased a toddler around. You briefly thought about what you might be able to cook at Bradley's house, then you sighed realizing you should have grabbed his credit card for groceries just in case. 

You inadvertently made eye contact with a woman who was standing alone near the far end of the swings before looking away. She looked familiar, although you were also sure you'd never seen her before. After a few seconds, you could tell out of the corner of your eye that she hadn't moved, so you glanced her way again. She was looking intently at Noah, and you could feel goosebumps tingle along the back of your neck. 

The woman took out her phone, and you tried to slow the swing down and block her view of Noah, but then you felt apprehensive about turning your back toward her. The swings were too far away from your car. The picnic tables were blocking your path. 

"Let's go down the slide," you told Noah quickly, scooping him out of the swing as he complained and asked you to push him more. 

When you turned back to check, the woman had started to walk along the swings, closer to the slide as you helped Noah climb up. Suddenly you felt unsafe. The park was nearly empty. That guy with the toddler was gone now. Your heart rate picked up.   

You pushed Noah down the slide and then ran to help catch him at the bottom. And now the woman was creeping even closer with her phone out.  

"Again!" he chanted. With a deep breath, you walked him back to the ladder, helped him climb, and then made a quick decision. You had your phone and keys in your pocket, and you could leave the cooler behind. When you scooped him up at the bottom of the slide, you wrapped your arms around him and made a quick dash toward your car. 

It was a good distance away, and as soon as you started moving, you saw her moving too. She was rushing toward you now, but you had a clear shot at the parking lot. Your heart was thudding in your chest, and the feeling of panic that washed over you had you squeezing Noah closer. 

"What's wrong?" he asked, looking concerned as you ran as fast as you could with him in your arms. 

"It's okay," you gasped, glancing back to see that she was still right there. And now she was calling out to you. Ignoring what she was saying, you unlocked your car as you approached, nearly tripping on the curb as you flung your back door open. Your sunglasses slipped off, and you stepped on them, crunching them under your sneaker.

"Wait!" the woman called out. "It's okay!"

You shoved Noah a little roughly into his carseat, tightening the straps with one hand as you glanced over your shoulder and slammed the back door shut.

"Shit!" she called out, also nearly tripping over the curb. "I won't hurt him!" 

You needed to get in the car, but as you reached for your door, you tripped and landed on the pavement, and the searing pain that shot through your arm had you gasping. But you didn't have time to check yourself as this insane woman closed in on you.

"Stay the fuck away from me!" you screamed, realizing your pepper spray was sitting in your cup holder. You opened your door and climbed in, locking the doors and cranking the engine to life just as she approached Noah's window and cupped her hands to look inside your car. "You psycho!" you cried out, slamming your car into drive and peeling out of the parking lot.

You drove in the opposite direction of Bradley's house in case she tried to follow, but you didn't see anyone else pull out of the parking lot. When you glanced in your mirror at Noah, he looked like he was going to cry. 

"It's okay!" you tried to reassure him, but your own voice was shaking. "Let's sing." After you cleared your throat a few times, you led him in the dinosaur song that you and he made up last month, and that seemed to cheer him up and calm him down. 

You drove miles out of your way before you started to head back to Bradley's house. When you finally pulled into his driveway, you noticed that your right arm was scraped up and dripping blood, but at least Noah was safe. And as you carried him inside, firmly locking the door and leaning against it, you realized who that must have been.

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

Bradley was exhausted. He and Nat had been working with the simulation for hours. It was late, and he was starving, and he decided to skip the locker room and head right home. He wanted to see you and Noah, wanted to talk to you. If he didn't at least try to figure out what was happening with you, he was going to lose his mind. 

He wanted you. Noah already loved you. Of course, you'd be crazy to actually want to date Bradley, but he figured he should at least try. Test those waters with you. He couldn't ever remember being nervous that a woman might just want him around to hook up with. Although he supposed he could just keep doing that with you, if that's all you really wanted.

Bradley's stomach was growling as he tied his sleeves around his waist again. The sun had already set, and as he climbed into the Bronco, he scrolled through missed calls from Meredith and texted you. 

Be home soon.

You didn't respond, but his house wasn't too far from base, and you were probably playing with Noah. Maybe you'd be wearing your crown when he got back. Maybe you had made dinner. Maybe you'd kiss him when he got there. He found himself driving a little faster, smiling when your car in his driveway came into view.

But as soon as he unlocked the door and strolled into the kitchen, he knew something was wrong. Your back was tense, and you were coloring with your left hand. Noah was in his pajamas, and when he looked at Bradley his eyes lit up. But Bradley's gaze fell to your arm, and he rushed over to you. 

"What happened?" he asked, gently taking you by the wrist and examining you. "Tell me."

You looked at him, lips parted, but you remained silent for a beat. "I fell."

"You fell?" he asked, wondering why your voice sounded so strange.You looked tired and worried, but Noah was okay. And your arm looked like it would heal eventually. "Baby, tell me what happened." He was kneeling on the floor next to your seat, and you nodded slightly as he kissed your cheek.

"After Noah gets in bed," you whispered. "I'll tell you."

"Sure," Bradley replied, still worried as he scooped his son up and took him to the bathroom to brush his teeth. When he got him tucked in bed, Bradley kissed his forehead. "Go right to sleep, bub. I love you."

Noah looked at him with wide eyes as he turned on the nightlight. Bradley rubbed his shoulder as his eyes finally started to drift closed, and then he was dashing back out to the kitchen. You were washing dishes with one good arm, and Bradley reached around you to take the plate out of your hand and turn the faucet off. 

"Hey, don't worry about that, Princess," he whispered, turning you gently to face him. "What happened?"

You finally met his eyes. He pressed his lips to yours, but you didn't return the kiss. Bradley pulled away and examined your arm again. He needed to get you cleaned up, get the dirt out of the wound. "Will you talk to me?" he asked.

You cleared your throat and asked, "What does Meredith look like?"

Bradley cocked his head a bit but described his ex to you. The look in your eyes was making him nervous as he reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone. "I have a picture of her," he told you, scrolling through a photo album. "She's in the first picture I ever took of Noah. So I saved it." When Bradley held his phone out for you, he saw you swallow hard before meeting his eyes again.

"I took Noah to the park," you whispered. "After I picked him up from daycare. And there was a woman there. She kept looking at Noah. Looked like she was trying to take his picture."

"Shit," Bradley gasped, stroking your cheek with his thumb.

You nodded. "She made me nervous. Really upset me. So I grabbed Noah and ran for my car. After I got Noah in, I tripped and fell when I was trying to get the driver's door open. I guess I fucked up my arm pretty good. But I sped out of the parking lot away from her. Away from Meredith."

You had protected Noah. From his own mother. What the hell was Meredith doing?

Bradley pushed your hair back away from your face and examined your eyes. You looked upset but not like you were in shock. He let his fingers drift down to your neck and found your pulse was slightly elevated but not erratic. "I'm okay," you told him softly. "Promise."

He kissed your forehead, inhaling your scent. "Let me get your arm cleaned up, Princess." 

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

You sat on the edge of Bradley's bathtub as he knelt on the floor and very gently and patiently cleaned your arm. You watched silently as he used tweezers to remove bits of asphalt from your skin before guiding you back so he could rinse your arm.

"You would make a good nurse," you muttered, and he glanced up at you. 

"Well, that means a lot coming from you," he replied, kissing your fingers before he guided your arm back under the water. "I'm sure you would have done a better job if it wasn't your dominant arm."

You just shrugged as he carefully dried you off and wrapped your arm up in gauze. Neither of you were smiling. He stood and gently helped you to your feet as well, and you buried your face into his warm neck and chest, trying to hold back tears. Because you knew without a doubt that the conversation you and Bradley were supposed to have tonight wouldn't be happening now. 

"Princess," he whispered, and your eyes fluttered closed as his mustache brushed your cheek. "I need to call Meredith."

You nodded, inhaling the smell of sweat and jet fuel from his skin. You liked to think he had skipped the showers so he could rush home to see you. You liked to think he missed you as much as he missed Noah when you weren't around. You wanted to hold onto that.

"I understand," you promised, letting your fingers settle on his abs for a beat before you turned to leave the bathroom. You felt like crying as you sat on the couch and tried to clumsily put your shoes on. But Bradley helped you, looking up at you with a serious expression.

"Thank you."

"For what?" you asked. All you had managed to do was get hurt and turn into an emotional mess over knowing Meredith had been the one to scare you at the park. You felt like an idiot.

"Thank you for protecting Noah, Princess," he replied, rubbing soft circles in your calves through your scrubs. "You don't know what that means to me." 

It was hard to believe that earlier this morning, you and he had been fucking in your bedroom. You leaned forward to kiss him, and he reached up to pull you gently to the floor onto his lap. Very carefully, Bradley helped you wrap your arms around his neck, and he kissed you for a while. 

When he pressed his forehead to yours and stood with you in his arms, you cautiously asked him, "Will you call me?"

"Of course." 

Bradley walked you out to your car and retrieved Noah's carseat. Then he kissed you goodbye as he made you promise to text him when you got home. 

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

Bradley sat on his couch, running his fingers through his hair. Meredith was apparently hanging around his neighborhood. You got hurt. Noah could have been hurt. Bradley needed to figure this out.

As soon as your text came through, he sighed.

Babysitter: I'm safe at home. I miss you already. You and Noah.

Instead of responding to you like he wanted to, Bradley squared his shoulders and looked at his missed calls. When he tapped on Meredith's name, she answered almost immediately, and Bradley's anger flared inside him.

"Well," she said with a laugh, "I figured I had your attention now. Thank you so much for calling me back, Bradley."

"Meredith," he muttered through clenched teeth. "What do you want?"

"I just want to talk to you. In person. I'll come by in the morning."

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

She's going to come by in the morning!! Ahhh! Enjoy your babysitter fic which you help me write, @beyondthesefourwalls And thank you @mak-32 !

PART 13

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[cheriden]

「 double extra large 」 。。。

"You grab his right hand without delay when he raises it to the cashier, and the item he’s been trying to conceal drops flat on the floor. The box shines in gold, the letters ‘XXL’ embossed in bold, large letters.  He quickly bends down to grab it. At the time that his head is level to yours and your eyes meet his, both widen with yours in shock, his in embarrassment"

── synopsis 。You’re at the grocery with your roommate, and as you empty the cart at checkout, you see a purchase that snuck itself onto the shopping list.

inexperienced!kai x (slightly)experienced afab!reader

.ᐟ genre 。fluff kinda, smut, mdni!

.ᐟ tags 。lotus-style so i can look at you and confess, ab-riding & frotting, praise kink, taunting, sex (the p-in-v kind), unprotected sex (don't do it!), mutual masturbation, creampie, sub!top kai, overstimulation

.ᐟ status & word count 。oneshot | 3.34k

.ᐟ warnings/notes 。sorry folks we mentioned the condom but we will NOT be using it! reader is afab but is not referred with any gender specific pronouns/nicknames. as always my ass is to lazy to proofread

The supermart is busy and fast-paced, but not too crowded to the point that it brings you fatigue. In your hand is your notes app full of groceries, and as you call out each product, Kai brings it up within your range of vision, prior to moving it on one side. “Oh shit, I missed the toothpaste. Be right back” You mumble. The other nods at hollering, “'Kay. I’ll just meet you at the counter.”

Rushing to the hygiene section, you nearly trip over yourself trying to recall the type you use. You have no idea what difference the toothpaste with cooling crystals has over the one with cooling menthol chips, opting to grab both and just asking Kai instead.

Over at the checkout, the ash-haired boy isn’t hard to spot. Tall and broad all around, he sticks out like a sore thumb in his gray sweats and large beige sweater. He waved over at you, and you see that you came just in time to help him clear out the pushcart. You squeeze your way past the others in line, settling on his left and bringing up both types of toothpastes up to his face. He smiles, grabbing the other, to which you toss the other on one of the go-back shelves filled with toys and candies from children who didn’t have their way.

Kai is nice and considerate, knows which item to place on the conveyor belt first for the bagger’s convenience; separates frozens and hygiene, poultry from other produce.

About three-fourths through the basket, you notice Kai favoring his left hand over his right. His right hand stays unmoving by his side, though his face shows he’s unbothered. Still concerned, you inquire, “Everything okay?” He’s evidently surprised that you notice, shaking his head as he continues hauling the products. 

You’re aware that Kai has a tendency to keep things to himself, fear of becoming a burden or hassle. You always tell him the opposite, and this instance is no exception. “Are you hurt? Let me see your arm.” He jolts back dramatically when you lean toward him, and with a skeptical look, you back down. 

For one second.

You grab his right hand without delay when he raises it to the cashier, and the item he’s been trying to conceal drops flat on the floor.

The box shines in gold, the letters ‘XXL’ embossed in bold, large letters. 

He quickly bends down to grab it. At the time that his head is level to yours and your eyes meet his, both widen with yours in shock, his in embarrassment.

The cashier taps the register with an impatient look, “Um… Am I going to ring that up for you?”

The commute home is silent and awkward; all you can think about is the box of condoms stored in the pockets of Kai’s bottoms. 

“It’s right next to his extra-extra large dick.”

You smack your head against the doors, and the other, maybe even the entire train, looks at you like you’re stupid. You mentally scream at yourself to shut up, to stop pondering over it. Though it’s hard not to when a seat clears up, and you’re sat head-to-head with his nether region. The more you tell yourself not to think about it, the more you torment yourself by doing the exact reverse subconsciously. You turn your entire body away from him and onto the window, your legs to your chest, truly cementing yourself as the crazy lunatic on the transit.

Walking uphill to your apartment at the peak of the sun’s presence—a whole workout in itself, isn’t even enough to take your mind off it. Though now you were speculating about why he didn’t just bring it onto the belt like a normal person. “Kai’s a healthy adult man,” reason with yourself, “of course he’d be active.” You’re no virgin either. Maybe you overreacted earlier, clutching your pearls like chastity was something you practiced. 

So why didn’t he just tell you? Were you not close enough to know stuff like that?

Kai knows the ins and outs of your love life, and upon retrospection, you’ve realized he doesn’t really share anything about himself. Not unless you see it unfold in real time, questioning follow-ups then and there. 

The front door unlocks, and you hurriedly drop the bags onto the counter, taking a seat on one of the high stools. 

You observe the other, taking his time to lock the door and organize the shoes by the door before rolling his sleeves to put the groceries away. 

You think about how good a partner he’d be, if he was anything like how you see him around the house—around you. He’s fun and lighthearted, careful and honest. He’s let your faults slide over a thousand occurrences before, never failing to say sorry for his own shortcomings no matter how inconsequential they are. Quite literally the perfect boyfriend. You apologize for only appreciating him like this because of the box of condoms.

You wonder if he has a girlfriend and what his type would be. He doesn’t really bring anyone over, besides a few shared friends to rot on the couch with. “Maybe he’s gay?” You consider, “Or bi?”  If he was, wouldn’t he tell you? 

Maybe you’re a shit friend.

Determined to get to know the other better, you peer over at him as he places fruit into the fridge. “Hyuka?” 

He turns his head with an inquisitive look. “What’s up?” Clearing your throat, you prepare yourself for the corny words that come next. “I want you to know that, I would never judge you or whoever you have sex with. You can trust me with that crap.” Your words of friendship render him speechless, mouth parting and closing without any sound leaving it. He shuts the refrigerator, taking up a seat directly across from you. “I appreciate it.” He returns, the corners of his lips curving up slightly as it purses into a line. “It’s just,” he whispers, looking around and leaning in as if there were other people present, “I’m a virgin.” 

You nod, leaning in to match his stance. Proud of this bonding moment, it’s like the two of you have a little secret. Though you suppose it’s a bit mean-spirited to celebrate over Kai’s clear insecurities, watching him nibble at the bottom of his lips, bouncing his leg in his seat. “That’s totally normal.” You tell him, placing a hand over his, to stop him from picking the skin of his index fingers. “So you’re a virgin too?” He beams, and you’re almost sorry that you have to correct him that you’re not. When you do, his face portrays a red hue, apologizing for assuming almost immediately. You shake your head and say it’s fine. “So who’s the lucky recipient of your…” Regretting it almost immediately, you can't stop yourself, pointing at his crotch. You feign confidence and nonchalance, resting your chin on your palm.

You think it was impossible for him to turn darker, but he flushes to a bright cherry red with his face in his hands, voice muffled as he speaks through it. “I’m… Just going to practice. With a friend.” “Practice?” You press further, and he tells you the name of the person who offered to help him. You’ve heard about them before, one of the friends he used to work part-time with. 

You shouldn't be thinking this, but you’re jealous. You’ve been roommates since legality! How could he trust some rando over you?

“Not the point, this isn’t about you!” You mentally note once again.

Kai presses his cheek on the cool marble, avoiding your  gaze. “In case I do get… Intimate with someone I have feelings for. I don’t want them leaving me over my mediocrity.” In opposition to your better judgment, you nod along instead of hyping him up, knowing it would’ve done nothing to console him in all of his anxious glory.  

As a great friend—you know one surefire way to instill confidence in him.

“Your partner,” you start, throwing caution to the wind as you mentally prepare for the words you’ve scripted haphazardly, “They’re receiving?” 

Kai answers yes hastily, and you’re in awe of the unimaginable scene you’ve concocted as he hides behind his sweater paws. Maybe you’re just really horny, or ovulating.

With one last breath, your voice a tad too loud and fast, as you tell him: “I can do it.”

“Do what?” He asks, though he’s ninety-percent sure on what you mean. Regardless, you clarify, “I’ll be your first. I’ll help you practice and stuff.” 

Truthfully, you can count all of your sexual encounters on one hand, subtracting further when you take away over-the-shirt makeouts.

Kai’s brain goes into overdrive, half-paying attention as you list all of the pros and cons of you being his partner instead. “Plus, we can stop or go anytime. I won’t take it personally, ‘cause I know you.” 

His breathing is wobbly as he whispers, “Okay.” 

With a grin, you take his hand and tug him to his room. “Sorry Hyuka, but since I’m helping you out, it’s your sheets that will have to suffer the consequences.”

It’s a bit unfair, you know. Unorthodox? Absolutely; however you pay little to no mind as you kneel in the center of the mattress, patting your side giddily to call him over.

He’s hesitant and timid when he rounds the bed frame, and you wonder if he’s uncomfortable with you, if you’re forcing him to do this and he’s too nice to do anything about it. Your brazenness falters a bit. “Hey, don’t think like that,” As if he can read your mind, Kai sits next to you and caresses your cheeks, “It’s just my first time is all. I’m sure you’ll be wonderful.” 

Even in his own worry, he’s there to soothe you. You straighten your posture and ask: “How can I make it more comfortable for you?” He purses his lips in thought, eyeing your body. 

You get the signal, taking your top off, him mirroring your movements. “So I guess we can just start—”

Cut off by the force of his lips against your own, you lurch at the sudden contact. He pauses when you don’t kiss back, but when you do, it causes him to fall onto his back.

His kisses are open-mouthed and pliant, as if he was waiting for your actions before mimicking them. You move to straddle him, asking if he’s kissed before. He has. You ask if he’s made out with anyone before, and he shakes his head. “You’re a great learner.” You praise, and he smiles, tilting his head to kiss you again. 

Kai keeps his hand above your hips, slightly urging them to grind against his abdomen. You take him up on the offer, completely malleable to his wanting. As time passes, you can’t help but get curious at the hardening mass beneath you, brows furrowed as you detach your lips from his. You trace the garter of his jeans, mute signal to make sure if you can take it off.

He nods, and the action is slow and painful for him. You giggle as he whimpers at the view of the wet spot over his boxers, taking your time to register every facial expression he makes. He moans your name to get you to stop, hands over his face upon seeing you sneak a finger into the waistband, trailing along the sharp end of his pelvic bone. He chants your name some more, and you think it’s an angel’s calling, so heavenly and gasping for air that you can’t help but ramp him up further. 

You make it a point to pave marks leading up to his jaw, mouth working harsher while you slide the undergarment to the lower end of his thighs. 

You do nothing but wince at his length, eyes flickering between him and his dick. Kai’s gone red again, clearing his throat as he says, “Is something wrong?” 

Frankly, you’re a bit petrified, shaking your head regardless. “So you’re XXL for real?” He’s confused, watching you remove your bottoms. “Yeah?”

“I thought that was just you overestimating.” He grabs your hand to stop you from removing your underwear, a sheepish smile from him as he comments, “Keep it on, wanna see it later—and why would I lie? That just defeats the purpose of buying a condom.” You take your hands off the tight band, and it ricochets onto your skin with a prominent smack. “You’re so kinky.” Kai avoids your feedback, rambling about the hassle of having to google condom brands and their sizes. “It’s so humiliating, I think I’m on some freak watchlist—” He interrupts himself with a moan, focusing on you as your hand swipes at his tip. He grumbles with his head against the wall, breathing unsteady as you bring his fingers near  the inners of your thighs. His demeanor says he’s more than eager to give you satisfaction, watching you rub yourself onto the knuckles of his fingers. His fingers are long and elegant—thin and precise. You revert your attention to his cock, working on the upper shaft as you pout at your own hand. Kai asks you what’s wrong, and note that your hands aren’t as pretty. They’re shorter and stout, nails carelessly cut with a few nicks and scratches here and there. On the contrary, he’s enthralled by the scene. The other responds by taking the hand that rests above his, kissing each finger as he remarks how lovely they are. He carefully encircles your entrance with his middle finger, silently asking for permission. 

With an exasperated sigh, you tell him he can do whatever he wants. “You’ll let me know if you’re uncomfortable right?” You nod, informing him to do the same. He slowly inserts a finger, moving it in and out, grazing your clit each time. He watches as your mouth hangs open, and he takes it as his cue to insert another. You bid yourself not to get distracted, spreading the pre-cum from his tip on the sides of his member. 

He’s too wet, and so are you. At this point, you’re humping his hand, jerking his dick erratically with you calling out each other's names. You come on his hands and pursue balance on his arm as he flexes, coming down from his own high when you squeeze his dick tighter. It paints his stomach like a canvas, stare lingering  as you recollect yourself. 

Suddenly you’re pulled back down to Earth, watching his chest heave while you inquire about lube. He nudges over to his nightstand, and you bring out the box of condoms from earlier. “Do you know how to put on a condom?” Kai says he learned how in high school. You laugh, throwing the box somewhere onto the floor. “I’m clean, and on birth control. You’ll be fine. And besides,” you move, dragging your soaking clothed pussy over his dick, “Don’t you want to feel all of me for your first time? I know I want you to come inside me.”

You’ve gone insane, cock-drunk as you watch the lust sparkle in his eyes when he nods.

No time is wasted; ridding yourself of the heavy fabric and messily empty the bottle of liquid onto the both of you, the other making an even bigger mess as he spreads it across your cunt, his other on himself. His back shoots up when you sink lower halfway, sitting up to tangle his hands in your hair. You reassure him you can take it; he pulls you in for a kiss, long and deep to preoccupy you from the pain as he slowly forces you to drop further. You bite at his lower lip, and he comforts you by caressing the curve of your waist. 

Kai waits for you to stop hurting, and when you start grinding on him, he can’t help the sharp thrust that meets your form. “More!” You yelp, detaching your lips from his. Your command is fulfilled as he pummels into you at an unrelenting speed, head resting below your chin as he kisses the sides of your breasts. He makes sure no area is left blank, leaving dark violet patches littered on your curves. He’s bouncing you up and down his cock, mesmerized by the vision and sound of you malfunctioning over his dick in you. It doesn’t take long for you to adjust, playful behavior back as you tease, “Can’t believe you were gonna fuck your old co-worker instead.” Your legs wrap around his waist, nails digging the plush of his thighs. The other looks genuinely sorry, eyes glossy as he mutters his apologies. “Can’t—not you, only you.” Your pace stammers, “Only me? What—”

“I like you,” He gasps, rolling his hips slowly, “Had—shit, have for a long time now.” He lifts his gaze to meet yours, eyes soulful and seeking approval. “So you were practicing for… me?” “If you’d give me the chance!” He rushes to say, “Wanted to make sure I did well.” You free a hand to forcefully grab his face, grinning down at him. “Pervert,” His cock twitches in you, causing you to wince in return, “but it’s fine. You make me feel good.” Throwing his head back at your statement, he spreads you  flat on the mattress, palms holding your wrists down. “Shit—no, wait,” He whines—watching you writhe underneath him, unable to stop his hips as they hammer into you. “It’s okay,” barely managing your words, “I’m close too.” He versus your name over and over, drool forming on the corner of his lips as you clamp down on him, Kai fucking you through your orgasm. He moans at the applied pressure, rolling his hips when yours arch off the bed, thick cum spurting inside you.

Breathing is a luxury that he denies you, flipping you over and pounding within you mercilessly. “‘M sorry,” he inhales, making no effort to stop, “so tight and warm, ‘cunt’s sucking me in.” Your figure jolts violently beneath him, moans caught in your throat while you beg for him. “Too big—too much!” You shriek, flinching at the sounds of him slapping against your ass. “S—slow down.” Kai’s brain is too shrouded in ecstasy, ignoring your pleas as you come on him again, his own cum mixing as it overflows and drips onto the sheets.

He finishes with one more passionate kiss, followed by a series of chaste ones as he entraps your body in his arms and lays you down on top of him.

“What the hell was that all about?” Kai’s confused, Peering at you with a curious gleam in his eyes. You gesticulate between the two of you. “Sex. Where did that come from?” He hums, lying back down onto the bed. “Porn? I just did whatever felt right.” Scoffing, you lie closer to him. “Yeah right, nobody learns from porn.” The other scrambles to get a pack of wet wipes, calling himself “naturally gifted” while patting the both of you down. 

He fakes composure, hands giving him away as they tremble out of nervousness. “So are we, like, a thing now?” 

He looks adorable when he’s unsure of himself. Like he would implode if he assumed incorrectly. “I don’t know, did I ever say I liked you back?” The other halts almost immediately, face ready to plead when you reply: “Kidding,” Laughing at his animated reactions, he shares a large exhale of relief when you reply. “Take me out on a date first, then we'll see.”

“We’ll see,” He mocks, bunching the wipes into a ball, tossing it in the bin. “Like we didn’t just have sex. I’m really hurt.” Kissing the pout off his lips and littering his face with tiny pecks, you can feel his cheek tense with his wide smile, eyes forming crescents as he basks in your affection.

Somehow, out of all the kisses he’s received in the past hour, this one set his heart racing the most.

think i've gone insane because ever since the start of the year my kai brainrot has been so bad. also his full name is a tick word for me, it's ust so fun to sayy

thank you for reading! feedback, reblogs and tags appreciated♡

[cdeeznutzz]

CD Finds - March 2024

I’m STOKED w my haul this month!!! I bagged some really good CDs which I'm SO happy ab like the “Helena” single by My Chemical Romance, I’ve been wanting it for AGES!!!! :D Since I'm currently on half term and will continue to be for the first week of April, I'm hoping to do loads of charity shopping and hopefully getting other cool CDs to showcase next month!

Which of these CDs is your favourite?

[s0wh4t1f1l1ft]

hello^ I just wanted to ask, I have no problem with pencils or even medium sized products but when it comes to collections and bigger products, I don’t know how to do it can you give me some advice please ? Thank you in advance :)

for the şèpħøřª and üłțä haul i just posted i have a medium sized structured bag, i carry it on the same arm as a shopping bag. when i go to l1ft i always plan to purchase at least one thing and theyre less sussed out when someone comes in a grabs a bag (think ab how associates will ask if u need a bag when the think ur lifting) and actually buys things. i either put things into the shopping bag and then go to a blind spot and conceal everything or ill put somethings into the shopping bag to conceal later and then some into my purse making it look like im putting it in the shopping bag. just remember to always act like a regular customer, be nice be confident, check prices, swatch makeup, look for rfids!!!

[toxicanonymity]

The Dark Path (Rock bottom Ch 4)

6k | Corey x Michael, Michael x Reader. NSFW

Something for everyone! Pt. 1: Beefcake Corey pumps iron. Pt. 2: Corey & Michael kill Mulaney. Michael on Corey. Pt. 3: Michael fucks (Y/N). Corey can't contain himself.

Rock Bottom Index - All Chapters

If you don't want gifs, you might wanna read on AO3. Throw me kudos for being a slut while you're at it & subscribe to get the next chapter a lil early.

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

Ch 4 Part 1 

Outside (Y/N)’s house, Corey walks around to the backyard.  He bends down to pick up his heavy wrench from the dying grass.  The cold metal slides and clinks into place as he moves.  He imagines what it would have been like to kill the sad sack if Michael hadn't gotten to him first.

He goes to collect his backpack and sees a shape in the  woods.  His heart skips a beat.  It feels like Michael is close.  The shape walks in the opposite direction.  

Corey gets on his motorcycle.   His huge hands make it look like a toy bike from certain angles. He cranks the gas with a twist of his thick wrist. It’s a cold ride, and his large knuckles turn red and white.  

Instead of going home, he rides to the Allen family’s abandoned mansion.  He keeps some things hidden there for whenever he needs to get away from Joan. He puts on clean underclothes and takes a nap before work.

His day goes by in a haze of want. His clothes are clean, but he can still feel the essence of Michael and (Y/N) enrobing his cock.  

-

At work, he's distracted and lets the hood of a Buick slam on his masculine hand.  It doesn’t hurt, but the shock of it makes him yell.  Ronald is worried about him - he's barely been coming home lately.  

Corey is assigned scrap duty for the rest of the day.  He heads behind the shop to their secondary scrapyard with a clipboard.  He trudges through a sea of  cars, most of them with no tires, parked on white granite rocks that gleam and blind him and crunch under his boots.  Hoods are open, doors are off.  A lot of models are from the 90s or 00s but some are older.  He updates the part inventory as he walks. It’s boring.  

Corey prefers challenging manual labor to tedious paperwork.  Being a mechanic lets him use his engineering knowledge and curiosity while getting to touch and explore and fix things. He’s very good with his hands, and his hands are made for the job. 

Doing inventory is mind-numbing.  He has too much pent up energy and has to pass the time.  At the back of the scrapyard, there's a bumper leaning against a 90s Saturn.  He puts his clipboard down on the seat of a picnic table in the shade and takes his sleeves off, tying them around his waist.   His nipples say it's too cold for this, but he doesn't feel it. 

He hauls the bumper on his sculpted shoulder with one massive hand bracing it.  He mounts the table, ass-first and his thighs and groin press up into the fabric of his jumpsuit as he scoots back and stretches out into place.  He lays back and rests the car part on his sturdy chest.  He spreads his thick fingers to get a good grip, then bench presses it.  

His stamina is impressive and it takes a minute to even feel the burn.  It starts in his hard pecs and spreads to his thick arms.  As the bumper grows heavier, he breathes harder, winces, and his feet start to move.   His white undershirt rides up and he can feel the air on his lower abs and V.   He pauses at the top to steady his arms and breathe, his cheeks puffing out with air. He does a few more reps and discards the bumper.

His biceps bulge out of his white sleeves. The sleeves have ridden up to show his paler skin.  He takes a rest then grabs a tire.  The veins in his hands pump.  

He firmly plants his feet in the gravel and sticks his glutes out for proper form. He holds the tire in front, bracing it with his large hands on each side, his hard triceps flexing.  His empty jumpsuit sleeves loosen around his hips as he squats, but the pants are held up by his ass. His quads burn as he digs his boots into ground for leverage and continues squatting. 

From the shop, he hears, "Corey! Lunch is here!" He sets down the tire with a thud and lets it roll away.  It comes to rest against a Ford Bronco. 

Corey pulls on his sleeves and goes to the office.  He devours a footlong meatball sub, holding it with both hands, bracing his elbows on the break room table, his forearms flexing, mouth full, jaw and Adam's Apple moving with each bite. 

He spends the rest of his break in the garage.  He sits with his big legs spread, an elbow braced against his knee and curls a heavy tool box with just three fingers because the handle isn't big enough.  He squints with every bulge of his bicep as he pumps, until he realizes his glasses are fogged and his armpits are damp all the way down the sides of his jumpsuit.  

After lunch, at the back of the scrapyard, he does lunges, holding a tire.  He lunge-walks down a row of cars, turns the corner and comes back through another row.  His jumpsuit strains at the seat each time he comes down.  He keeps going until he feels his lower back sticking to his jumpsuit with cold sweat, potentially drawing attention to his prominent glutes.   

His face is hot.  His curls are damp and matted to his forehead.  A bead of sweat rolls down his thick, tan neck.  He catches his breath and picks up the clipboard again.   

-

After work, Corey goes home and instantly regrets it.  A few days ago when he didn't come home, Joan was beside herself.  This time,  she's unhinged.   Her northern accent intensifies into a monologue that doesn't end until Corey leaves.  

"Who's been taking advantage of my baby boy?! Who?! I can smell her on you, Corey.  She doesn't love you! You know none of them care about you, Corey. You're handsome. You're sensitive.  They should be so lucky.  Your mother loves you, Corey! Come home to your mother! What's happening to my baby boy?!" 

His deep, gruff voice interrupts her painful whine.  "I'M FINE, MA," is all he says.  

"OH MY GOD, COREY, YOUR NECK!"

Corey opens the fridge. 

"OH, COREY, I'm so sorry.  Let me go buy you some chocolate milk! I’ll be right back, you stay right here." She grabs her wallet and nods to herself like that’s going to fix everything.  Then she remembers,  "Oh, you know what? Do you want some custard? There's some custard in the fridge!"  She puts her arms on his hulking back and arms. 

So now boys who keep secrets get custard.  Too little too late. “No thanks, Ma.”  She grabs her keys off the wall, distressed.    

Corey goes upstairs to wash. He plugs the drain and turns on the water.  He looks in the mirror as the bath fills. His jumpsuit hugs his broad shoulders and chest. He peels it off, followed by his soaked undershirt.  His muscles are still pumped up.   His neck is still red from Michael choking him.  

His large fingers graze the marks on his neck.  It turns him on, but he's saving himself, and he can't relax with Joan like this.   (Y/N) hadn't even mentioned his neck.  She must have known.   His eyes well up as her essence fades away in the bath.  Being inside her felt like being sucked by an angel.  They’ve barely explored each other.  The things they could do. 

When Corey pulls the plug to drain the bath, Joan yells right outside the door, "COREY?! Are you alright?!"  

“I’M FINE, MA,” he says again.  He changes into jeans and a button-up shirt.  The stairs rumble as he lets his weight carry him down.    

"I've gotta go, Ma." Joan grabs him and forcefully kisses him on the lips as he leaves.  It's like she's afraid it's the last time she'll see him.  Maybe it will be, he thinks. 

-

Corey picks Allyson up on his motorcycle.  Her small arms wrap around his ample torso.  Part of him would rather feel Michael’s bulky arms, just to know what it’s like to feel small.  

Corey didn’t have a dad growing up.   By the time Joan met Ronald, Corey was becoming a man.  It was all handshakes and pats on the back, an occasional brief hug if he needed one.  He’s never known the true embrace of a man’s strong arms. 

Being close to Allyson reminds Corey of what he likes so much about her.  She has the energy of someone who has lived through hell.  She's experienced Michael Myers in spree killer mode.  It's clear she came away changed in some way.  She must have a dark streak, Corey knows it.  He just has to tease it out.  The tinder is there.  He just needs to light the match.    

Allyson's arms feel good around him. He wants to have her as his own, but he also wants to feel understood.  It’s not possible for Allyson to understand him the way (Y/N) does.  The way he thinks Michael might.  If Corey can tempt Allyson onto the dark path, she’ll understand.  Then he can have it both ways - someone of his own, and someone who understands.   

He  longs to bring Allyson over, but the notion also feels dangerous for Michael, and therefore Corey, thanks to Laurie Strode.  Laurie is Michael's most dangerous predator.  

-

At the diner, Corey pretends to study the menu, but he always gets a cheeseburger and a chocolate milkshake.  What he's really doing is weighing his options with Allyson. 

Aside from the threat of Laurie, monogamy is Corey's other point of hesitation.  He assumes Allyson would expect it.  A few days ago, he would have expected it.  He would have embraced it, loved it.  It was his natural inclination.  But now, he doesn't know if he can help himself.   

It's not just Michael that he wants to stay open to.  The idea of not being with (Y/N) again is physically painful. He's thinking about her more than he expected. Corey still wants Michael to own him – if that's what it takes.  But Corey loves pussy, too.  Why can't he have it all? 

Corey wasn’t like this before, or if he was, he didn’t realize it.  He certainly didn’t act on it.  This uninhibited appetite all started with Michael's hands around his neck.

When Corey first met (Y/N) in 2019, that was almost a year after the botched transfer from Smith’s Grove, so she already knew Michael.  Michael already knew her.  For all Corey knows, she was a choir girl before Michael let her survive. 

Corey decides he'll give Allyson a tour of the dark path, and whether she stays on it is up to her.  He starts by baring his soul as they eat.  He shares enough of his darkness to intrigue her and be truly vulnerable.  His dark eyes fill with genuine tears.

He devours his burger, grease dripping down both of his strong, sculpted hands. He listens to Allyson, and she seems to feel the same.  He sinks his teeth into the despair that underpins her story.  Haddonfield has chewed them up and spit them out.  As he slurps the last of his chocolate milkshake, things seem to be coming together.  

They each have their own reasons, but it seems like he and Allyson want the same thing, in principle: to burn it all down.  Destroy the town that destroyed them.  She may not realize what this looks like to Corey, but it’ll come with time.   He’ll make a bad girl out of her.   

-

When Doug Mulaney tries to start some shit at the diner, Corey knows what he has to do, but he’s tempted to take him on man-to-man right there.  

Corey’s always been equipped to handle himself, but there was a terrible irony. Before the accident, he never really needed to defend himself.   Afterwards, he did, but he couldn’t risk appearing aggressive or even capable of harm.  

Post-accident, he would cower all the time, and when he got bullied or roughed up, he’d take it like a punching bag.  He was afraid of hurting anyone.  It would feel bad and also be the talk of the town.  Things would get even worse for him. 

Physically though, he was always more than capable.  God gave him a sturdy frame, and on top of that, he works out. 

For as long as he can remember, he's been starting his morning with push-ups just to feel the burn in his pecs, then he flips over and brings his fingers to his curly hair and does crunches. 

He has a pull-up bar on his bedroom door.  He can watch an entire episode of the Regular Show while doing pull-ups and chin-ups.  He doesn’t even keep count.  

He likes to feel his shoulders and triceps harden; his biceps and forearms bulge.  He bends his knees and crosses his ankles behind himself to fit in the door frame.  Then, for a different burn in his ample thighs, he brings his legs in front. 

He spends his downtime working out, and  sometimes he doesn't even realize he's doing it. It feels good and it's an escape.  

Doug Mulaney, on the other hand, looks like he probably sits in his patrol car all day.  While Mulaney is eating donuts and writing tickets,  Corey spends his work day lifting heavy objects and using industrial sized tools.  His hands and arms are so powerful that he can lift a tire overhand, palm-down, like a tote bag.  Doug needs a gun to protect himself.  Pussy. 

Corey could absolutely take Doug Mulaney one-on-one, but he has to resist.  He’s been looking for prey to bring Michael, and he found it.  

He drops Allyson off at home.  They share a steamy kiss that makes Corey hard.  She’s obviously keen to get him into bed, but Corey is too focused.  Another dose of the warm and fuzzy hormones will help bring her over where she needs to be, but not right now.   

Ch 4 Part 2

Mulaney makes it too easy by tailing Corey on his way home.  It will take no effort at all to bait him into the lair. At the very least, Corey will get to watch Michael even closer.  If Corey is really lucky, maybe he'll get the (Y/N) treatment - pinned to the wall by Michael's most precious weapon. 

Corey is still trying to wrap his head around Michael as a sexual entity.  If the kill is what turns him on, Corey needs to be the closest person in vicinity when he kills. He parks his bike under the overpass.

Corey baits Mulaney through the encampment and toward the drain and visualizes what the kill will be like.  He reflects on Michael’s last kill - the one he witnessed - and realizes Michael never even stabbed the guy.  It was boss the way he strangled him with the floor lamp, but when he finished him off from arm’s length with a single slash, Michael almost looked bored.  

Watching Michael kill was exhilarating, but watching him really come to life and stab someone, blood splattering on Corey’s neck – the thought of it hardens him more.  With Corey bringing the prey, surely Michael will let him participate in the kill.  

Mulaney follows Corey through the sewer, into the cavern, searching with his flashlight and taunting Corey out loud.  The bright light lands on devious Corey. 

Michael emerges from the shadows but doesn’t pounce.  He looks feeble, almost confused, like Corey is interrupting his nap.  Or maybe, he's letting Corey take the lead. 

Corey has never felt so alive as he prepares to slash with Michael.  He weakens and disorients Mulaney, incurring only a bloody nose and mouth in the process.  He’s tempted to go all-in, but it's Michael’s turn.  Michael moves slowly.  Corey can’t wait to see him work. 

Michael’s shrunken posture makes Corey look even larger.  He urges, "Get up, get up, GET UP!"  Michael pulls a rusted knife from the wall and  Corey's body tingles with anticipation from his nipples to his groin.  "Show me how," he says.  "I need you to show me!" There are so many things he wants Michael to show him.  

Michael swings.  Mulaney stumbles back against Corey's broad chest.  They fall to the ground, Mulaney’s weight spread across Corey’s sturdy body.  Michael lunges toward them.  Corey curls his big arms under Mulaney's, which are thin in comparison.  He braces for impact, breathing heavily as he watches the Shape’s every move.  

Michael wields the old rusted knife like a dagger.  He raises the blade then plunges it into Mulaney's chest.   Corey feels the tense body relax into dead weight in his arms.  Corey breathes heavily and rapidly, spellbound.  He doesn't take his eyes off Michael as the blood drains from their prey. Michael yanks out the knife, splattering blood across Corey's face.  His arousal swells.

Something comes over Michael.  He tenses and adjusts his grip on the knife. The black holes of the mask seem to look into Corey like the first time they met.  Corey understands. 

He braces Mulaney against his chest, and Michael thrusts the blade into him again.  And again.  Corey's eyes follow the blade.  He savors the vantage point of Michael shafting into him.  It has the same energy as Michael’s final thrusts into (Y/N).  Every time Michael plunges the blade into Mulaney, Corey's solar plexus shoots rays of pleasure into his whole body. He could not imagine a more erotic experience.  

Michael takes one step back and slowly stands up straight.   Corey lets go of Mulaney and the dead weight slumps to the ground.  Corey's jeans tighten with desire.  His ass tingles.  His chest heaves and he wipes saliva and blood from the corners of his mouth as he watches Michael.  Corey's cock is throbbing.  

Michael rolls his shoulders back and seems to reach an even darker frequency.  Corey's eyes gravitate to Michael's crotch, which appears to bulge, just as Corey expected.  It's not just his crotch, though.  His muscles appear to pump, too.   

Michael's arms and shoulders flex and he begins to quiver with energy.  The tired old man from moments ago is a distant memory.  Corey takes in Michael's entire form.   His sculpted arms are visible through his sleeves.  The stabbing has reanimated his truest self. 

Corey aches to be filled. There's a space deep in his core that can only be filled by Michael.  He flattens his massive hand against his clothed erection and winces while he waits for Michael's next move.  The base of his shaft contracts and a wave of pleasure blooms deep in his core. He's afraid he might come in his pants, but he's not ready. 

The last time Corey was in the sewer, the mask penetrated his eyes.  Michael injected something intangible and indescribable into him that day.   Corey, who was on the verge of disappearing, was transformed instead.  Now he’s dying for Michael to penetrate him deeper. Turn him darker, freer.  He can almost feel it happening.  

Michael turns his head slightly.  The fingers of his free hand twitch.   Corey tries not to take his eyes off Michael as he begins to unfasten his own belt, thrusting into his own wide wrist as he does it.  He's so hard.  

Michael steps closer.  His breath is loud behind the mask.  He raises the knife. Corey reflexively scrambles to his feet and  backs away until his back is flat against the wall.  His unbuttoned jeans are held up only by the excruciating swell in his briefs. Michael raises the knife to Corey's sculpted throat and closes the distance between them. 

Michael presses the side of the cold metal blade against Corey's thick neck, from his Adam's Apple to his jaw.  It’s angled upward, with Michael’s large, leathered hand near Corey’s ear.  The blade follows the hickey-like bruises from Michael's fingers.  Michael takes a final step, and his foot is between Corey's feet.  

Michael's sturdy thigh presses into Corey’s rock-hard, pulsating arousal.  Corey can't help but thrust against him.  Michael presses the knife harder against Corey’s throat, making him cough.  

Corey feels something move against the bottom right edge of his abs.  He's overcome with arousal to realize it’s Michael's cock, straining the leg of his jumpsuit, spanning from Corey’s lower abs to his thigh.  It's thick and hard, like a warm lead pipe.  Corey thrusts his aching bulge into Michael's thigh and Michael further presses the blade. 

Corey feels a sharp pang of pleasure in his taint.  He dares to grind his hip into Michael's engorged length, but Michael presses his own hip swiftly and firmly against Corey so he can no longer move. Corey is aching for relief. If he hadn't come so much in the past day or so, he's certain the sight of Michael's bulging jumpsuit would have made him come already.  

Michael shows no signs of wanting his own release.  Maybe it’s true what she said, that Michael loves pussy, but that doesn’t mean anything, because so does Corey.  And what’s more, here’s Michael pressing an enormous erection into Corey’s body. 

Corey tries again to press his body into Michael’s arousal.  He wants to feel its warmth, feel it move.  Michael’s hardness grows and his body stiffens further.  Corey tilts his pelvis in a few small pulses to create friction and stimulate himself.  His pre-cum soaks through Michael's jumpsuit.

A car horn blares outside.  Michael looks down and away then relaxes the knife slightly, but keeps it against Corey’s skin. With the knife relaxed, Corey gasps and catches his breath. 

Michael steps back, separating his jumpsuit from Corey's jeans and observes the wet spots on both of them.  Then Michael looks away slightly.  Something is distracting him.  He sniffs the air. 

-

Dread sets in.  What was Corey thinking?  Michael let him live and was letting him get close.  He trusted Corey, and Corey betrayed him.  He must know it.  Michael growls almost imperceptibly, as though in agreement, and steps back into him.  

Corey feels the blade of the knife rotate and dig in beneath his jaw.  Michael could kill him with the flick of his wrist, but he holds it steady. Then, the sharp blade begins to drag slowly, very slowly, but lightly, along Corey's jaw.   Corey feels a hot, thin line of blood separate into multiple narrow streams and stream down his neck.  This is real.  

Corey pleads "no, no, no, not yet" and grinds into Michael’s hard-on as though to show what he can offer.  He wants to become one with Michael before he dies. 

Michael pauses.  

A knock on the drain pipe echoes through the cavern.  Michael jerks the blade, slicing Corey's neck as he flings the knife across the cave. Blood oozes out of the slit.  It's more than a trickle but doesn't gush. It missed the jugular. 

(Y/N)’s voice echoes through the drain pipe.  “Are you in there?” 

Michael releases him.  Without looking back, Michael walks with a purposeful, upright stride to the drainage pipe, then drops to his knees and gets in.  It’s the first time he’s seen Michael on his knees, which does something to him.  Michael’s lumberjack body fills the drain more than Corey’s, despite Corey’s broad, muscular stature.  

Corey suddenly feels cold and unclothed without Michael against him.   He listens to the echo of huge, heavy knees on the metal as Michael exits the drain.  

Ch 4 Part 3

Rather than follow Michael out of the drain, Corey quickly fastens his belt and tiptoes across the cavern.  He hides in a crevasse. Water plinks down from the ceiling.  His hard-on is still raging.  He’s so high on the kill that he wonders if he’s dead.  He can’t believe how well this night has gone, even with blood running down his neck.  

Corey killed with Michael.  He awakened a higher energy in Michael.  It’s nothing compared to the transformation Michael gave Corey, but returning the favor to some small degree makes Corey feel even closer to Michael.   Michael not only choked him tonight, but sliced him.  Then, astoundingly, pressed his warm, lethal cock against his body.  

Corey was lucky.  Michael may not have sensed his betrayal after all.  The  sense of relief dissuades him from pressing his luck any further tonight.  He shouldn’t have gotten greedy.  He can always see if things escalate next time.  Before things go south, he needs to leave.   

- 

Corey can’t exit through the main pipe or he might run into them.  He doesn’t know what (Y/N) would do or say.  He’s almost more afraid of her reaction than Michael’s.  If she can’t play it cool, Michael will know.  

Corey surveys the dark cave for any sign of another exit and makes his way down the main hall, pressing his wrist against his zipper against his aching want.  He considers stopping to jerk off but doesn’t. 

He walks quietly but briskly to the end of the cave.  He approaches the area with Mulaney on the ground.  It looks like a dead end, but once he’s all the way at the wall, a very faint, dusty beam of light catches his eye to the right.  He goes through the crevasse with the soft blue light, and sees that it’s a grate up above, not an exit. 

Moonlight shines down through the squares above, illuminating a  round room.  There’s a fire pit and a huge, iron spit in the middle. Bones are stacked up around the edge of the room.  It’s like a catacomb.  Many of them look old, almost dry, but a few look fresh with bits of tendon clinging onto them.  Corey walks around the perimeter.  There’s a bone saw against the rock wall and a tin of matchbooks.   

He approaches the middle of the room.  The fire pit is round and made of smooth, pale stones.  The spit has scraps of burned meat stuck to it.  Corey steps closer.  It smells like barbecue. He looks down into the fire pit.  Those aren’t rocks, they’re human skulls.  The blood drains from Corey’s face.  His heart races and he stumbles backwards but catches himself.  This is Michael’s Ossuary and Grill. 

Thumping and dragging noises begin to echo from the drain pipe.  The thumps are irregular.   A faint light  begins to bounce around the cave.  Corey scrambles to find somewhere to hide as the thumps get louder.  He finds a nook between the ossuary and another room in the cavern.   He can still see into the ossuary.  He hopes the ossuary can’t see into him.  The echoing thumps stop. 

The artificial light brightens. Footsteps start, and the light moves in rhythm with the steps.    There are two sets of footsteps.   She asks, “Should I call it in?” Silence.  Footsteps.   Her voice is getting closer.   “Okay.  Hey, it’s okay. I just wish I knew who killed Nelson.”  The vagabond, Corey realizes.  He’s lying dead with a flashlight right outside the tent. That was part of his trap for Mulaney. 

The lighter footsteps stop.  “Wait, there’s already someone here,” she says.  Corey’s heart races and he holds his breath.  He can’t see them. He doesn’t know how she knows. Maybe she heard him breathing.  Shoes scuff the ground and there’s a rustling sound.  

“DOUG MULANEY? Jesus Christ, Michael.” Michael never stops walking.  “I don’t even know what to say.” Corey exhales.  The lighter footsteps quicken to catch up.   "Did he find you?" They're very close. 

Corey can see two shapes enter the ossuary, the huge one carrying another figure over its shoulder.  Michael's breath is audible.  There's a rustling and a loud thump.  Duct tape rips off loudly, echoing through the cavern.   Corey tries not to look, lest their light catch the reflection of his eyes.  The light turns off.  

He hears the snap of a match and the wind of a flame.  A whoosh followed by crackling.  The ossuary is gradually illuminated with a warm, flickering, orange light.  It’s quiet for a minute.  Too quiet for Corey to move. The warmth of the fire barely reaches Corey but is welcome.  The room starts to smell like barbecue. 

***

(Y/N) is sitting on the ground against the wall, catching her breath.  Out of view, there’s a drag of metal on rock, probably the bone saw.  She groans in disgust.  "Yeah, think you’ve got this,” she says. “I should get going.”  

The saw clatters to the ground.  Heavy footsteps cross the room.  Michael bends down and grabs her by the throat, then drops to his knees in front of her.  He still towers over her, even with his knees spread over her legs. He doesn’t pick her up.  Instead, he uses his other hand to jerk her toward him.  With the hand around her throat, he forces her back onto the ground. 

She chokes as he drags her closer, by the throat.  Her torso comes to a stop between Michael’s knees.   She manages to sit up on her elbows.  She reaches out hesitantly, like she’s trying to catch a wild animal.  Michael lets her touch his chest.  His grip loosens and she gasps for air. 

He sits back on his gargantuan haunches, which puts his clothed erection against her yoga pants.   She gasps and looks straight ahead.  The blood drains from her face.  She reaches for his crotch as if her eyes deceive her.  She runs her hand down the fabric, feeling his entire length.  It must be the size of her forearm.  

“Holy shit,” she says.  Corey wonders if he's responsible for Michael's enhanced arousal.  Blood rushes to his groin. 

Michael cages her to the ground and yanks down her yoga pants.  She looks apprehensive.  She reaches for Michael’s chest.  His hand snatches hers and brings it just below his upturned collar.  

He slowly pulls down his zipper with her little hand.  Corey's heart races.  She tries to stop it but is no match for his strength.  He grabs the sides of his upturned collar and thrusts his massive chest forward. The collar and jumpsuit fall back and a more precise silhouette of his back and arms emerge.  He lets the long sleeves hang to his sides.

The firelight isn’t great, and the angle isn’t perfect,  but from what Corey can see, Michael wears a dark, almost too-small t-shirt.  His muscles are utterly unreasonable.  His arms are the size of her thighs.   

Corey looks around frantically but doesn’t find a better view.  He desperately wants to see everything, but this is also his best chance to escape. 

Michael's expansive back and empty sleeves obstruct the view of his crotch, but his back in itself is a vision, even under the dark t-shirt.  He yanks the rest of her pants off and nudges her legs open with a giant knee, making space for himself.  

Finally, Corey catches a glimpse of that monster cock.  It’s commanding. Michael lowers himself over her before he can see it in more detail.  She moans at the feeling of his naked girth hard against her.   She rolls her hips.  She must be so wet. But as Michael begins to position himself for entry, she begs, “please," she squirms, "it’s too much.”  

Corey reaches for his pants and palms himself desperately with his massive hand.  He shifts slightly toward the exit of his nook just in time to see her back arch as Michael shoves himself into her.   She groans loudly and his enormous hand grabs her throat. His hulking muscles move gracefully under his shirt as he begins to fuck her.  Corey can’t pull himself away. 

Michael pushes slowly at first, like he’s letting her accommodate his even larger-than-usual size.   She cries and paws at his chest.  Every thrust is so powerful.   Her legs are spread wide with her knees up.  Michael never takes off his mask. 

Her face hotly twists in pain.  He persists.  With time, her cries turn into soft moans and occasional gasps.  She reaches up to his chest as she stares into the mask holes.  His large hand swallows hers.  They’re both sweating by the fireside as Michael's hips powerfully meet hers again and again.  

Corey tries to ground himself.   If he has any hope of moving things forward, he must make it out of this cave tonight.  He backs away slowly.  His arousal aches terribly, but he can’t indulge it, not right now.  He needs his wits about him.  

Michael just barely grunts, and it stops Corey in his tracks.  It’s the hottest sound he never thought he’d hear.  He steps back to where he was.  He has to watch, come what may.  He makes himself a deal.  He can stay a few minutes if he doesn’t touch himself.  Corey wants Michael, but he also wants to be Michael inside of her.

Michael grabs her hips and pulls her into him harder.  Her feet come into the air and wrap loosely around him.  Her legs are so small against Michael’s body. His rhythm quickens and he leans down closer.    

Michael’s arms glisten and bulge out of his short sleeves. His strong forearms slide under her.  With an emphatic thrust, he pulls her against him and scoops her up.  He sits back on his haunches and holds her tight against himself.  He grips her by the waist with her legs draped over his hips and continues to pound into her cunt. 

He moves her rhythmically against his lap, jamming her down around his cock every time he thrusts.  Her feet stick out behind him and bounce in the air each time she comes down on his shaft.  She gasps throatily.  Michael’s hands dwarf her. She looks like a doll getting bounced around.  Michael breathes heavily and wraps his arms tighter.  

Corey wants to fuck her like that.  He also wants Michael to wrap his arms around him like that.  He feels pre-cum seeping into his jeans.  His cock twitches desperately.  

Michael moves his hands to her ass and she hangs on around his broad neck, her arms grazing the bottom of his mask.  He pulls back his speed, fucking her slower but with just as much power and pipe.  After a minute, he slides his hands up her sides to her armpits.  His thumbs cross her nipples, palms engulfing her breasts.  He brings her down hard on his cock and Michael Myers audibly moans.  

It’s too much for Corey.  He brings his wrist down to his pants, unsure if he’s trying to stop it or get it over with.  At the slightest friction, his cock empties itself in dramatic pulses.  It feels like it happens in slow motion.  A small gasp escapes his mouth. 

She looks in Corey’s direction and her eyes widen just as he steps out of view.  Michael keeps fucking her, unaware.  Corey's heart pounds. His briefs feel full and warm. 

-

It’s a challenge for Corey to move quietly. He's a big, burly guy.  Every step he takes is heavy.  He tries his best to silently slink  toward the drain pipe.  Sounds of animalistic fucking echoing through the cavern, masking his footsteps.  

He hears breathing. Groaning. Rubber soles squeaking against wet rock.  Fabric scraping the ground.  She wails, he grunts.  

Corey reaches the pipe and gently crawls into it.   He goes very slowly, one big knee at a time, his large, filthy hands spread out in front of him.   His knuckles are white.  Moonlight is visible ahead.  In the distance, behind him, he hears a whine, a choke, a slap, and a scream. 

Then, he hears traffic from the overpass and feels cool, fresh air against his face. Just a little further and he steps out of the tunnel and collects himself.  He uses his massive palms to brush off his knees. He jogs out of view of the drain.  He sees the red truck, and has the passing urge to get inside and wait for (Y/N).  But after such a close call, he's committed to not sabotaging himself, at least for now. She'll be sore anyway.  

Continue with CHAPTER 5

______________________________________________

[aezuria]

HI STELLAAAA i wanna hear ab ur vacation how was it!!!! only if u want to ofc i love hearing ab ppls vacays sm 😚😚

SIAAAAA omg ofc i want to !!! 🤭

okay so first we stayed at my relatives place?? its like land that was passed down in our extended fam and its a whole alley of houses so we stayed in an empty one !

then we took a side trip to japan and OMG i took so many cute pics (abt that digicam... i barely used it oops 😭😭) cs i didnt wanna keep taking it out and it took a whie to turn on and i js used my phone LMAO also i did not see airport guy when i was coming back from japan ☹️☹️

after that we went back to the ph and went to cebu and bohol w my cousin !! we went island hopping and snorkeling and it was SO FUN except it was low tide so i kept hitting my feet on the rocks and when i tell u it HURT

ok so this part is kinda funny but it was TERRIBLE when it happened 😬 sooo at bohol we stayed at this cute beachside resort but like as soon as i got there i was so tired cs we had to wake up SO SO EARLY like 3AM bro and then i got food poisoning or smth and it was so hot and humid and it was js the worst thing EVER 0/10 would not recommend i threw up like 5 times in 2 days

but after i was still feeling kinda iffy but it was the last day so i went swimming and it lowk healed me LMAO didnt throw up after that 😘😘

then we went back to our place in the ph and did some last minute shopping at the mega mall (like a day before we were abt to leave leave) and i bought SO MUCH i did a whole haul and everythinggg 😍

and YEA sorry thats like a whole essay 😭😭 how is YOUR summer going???

[heelbucks]

I neeed you to do a smutty ass Christian x girly kinky reader imagine based on this. Pleasssee😩💗

this photo is doing things to me i wanna lick his abs

sugar daddy! christian cage x princess! girly! reader

you rushed home from your little shopping spree christian sent you on. “you deserve it princess, let me spoil you.” you had left on a special surprise on for. him under your short skirt and cute top. ‘lemme see what daddy bought you princess.” he said to you as you walked to his office.

you did a little haul of the barbie and hello kitty things you bought for yourself and then ushered him to sit in his office chair. you spun around, your skirt was flying up, giving him a peak of the lacey lingerie you hid from him. “oooh whatcha got on? did i buy this for you?” you nodded your head as you peeled your top off. next thing you knew you were on your knees in front of the older man, reaching out for his cock.

“fuck princess, juust like that. you’re doing so good for me, daddy trained you well huh?” your sugar daddy moaned from above you, on your knees in a pretty pink lingerie set he had bought for you. one hand wrapped itself in your hair to guide you further down his length while the other grabbed his phone to snap a picture. “good fuckin girl.”

[screampied]

hayoooo vaygus 💋💋💋

i’m glad da hear that you got some rest 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼!! omagaaaaa vinyls 😈😈, which one did you buy ? and plant food ?😭😭i didn’t know it existed 😨

i had a good day although tiring, but when i got home i changed the sheets, vacuumed and cleaned my room then showered and settled in my bed with my pou (lol idk if you see but the game pou (i bought a doll of it recently…impulse purchasing they say 😞😞) and then enjoyed some free time after all the exams🤞🏼🤞🏼

wouuuuyh, an actor seems so kewl and it suits you really good ☝🏼☝🏼 i have interest toward medicine too but the studies are so hard and long 😪😭😭 like i find the anatomy and just the medical sector so fascinating in general so i aspire to be a surgeon one day 🤷🏻‍♀️

otherwise, i’d reeeeeeally like to have a vlog channel (or a channel in general on ytb) and so TRAVEL. the first dream on my bucket list is to travel allllll around the world and also film it bc i loooove editing and stuff. i also would like to write more on tumblr specially in english, so, my other dream is to be bilingual 💆🏻‍♀️💆🏻‍♀️💆🏻‍♀️ and to keep on with tumblr, having a community on it would be a must ,LIKE, having anons or ppl talking and sharing their life seems so kewl too 🌚🌚 and i think it’s gutch for nowww

off topic but, what are you 3 top song of the moment? for me, the songs i have on repeat are :

-astrology, kali uchis (unreleased)

-she’s my collar, gorillaz ft kali uchis 🌚

-low, sza

those songs are playing on repeat rent free in ma head 👨🏻‍🦲👨🏻‍🦲👨🏻‍🦲also off topic but you really gimme SZA vibes ???? (/pos ofc)

well bye bye (i wrote a whole essay sorry😭😭😭) have a good day, day at work, a good night and dreams 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼!

-🌟

helloooowww star 👨🏽‍💻💓

hehe yessss, i love anything vintage related so i have a lil vinyl collection — mostly the vinyls hang around my room and the rest i play while i work or write >.< i got the demon days vinyl by gorillaz and a night at the opera by queen, two of my fav bands of all time 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️ i wanna get a tame impala vinyl too bc currents is prob my favvv album ever

lel yes 🧘‍♀️ i have a venus flytrap and it basically eats bugs and stuff like that. its near my garden, plant food in general i usually buy things like miracle gro n stuff !!

i’m glad u had a good day tho !!!! my day was okay, yesterday i basically stayed inside and did nothing. i’m gonna visit some campuses later today maybe and i have a piercing appointment today also 🙂‍↕️ LOOK AT UUUU being productive 🤞🏽 this is inspiring me to do spring cleaning today (is it still spring aha) so thank u !! <3 aw i remember pou, i used to stave mine bc i forgot ab it. poor bb

ooooo a vlog channel would be so nice !!!! 💓 i kinda wanted to do smth like that too, like it could help w my speaking bc i hate speaking but its soothing to record urself and just talk yk? doing grwms or shopping hauls would be soooo cute. and same i wanna travel too, i hope to visit the states one day (im from the carribbean) but i wouldn’t know where i wanna go first :0

THANKKK YOU 💖 i know right, i kinda backed out of medicine bc of the long years of school you need for it. im okay w my current career path but imagining me as a neurosurgeon would be kinda cool 🙂‍↕️ it was greys anatomy that even made me so interested in medicine LMAO. ik how the show is nothing like irl but i loveee greys n had a little doctor phase for a while heh. but i wish u luck on ur writing + bilingual journey !!!! you got this my friend mwah mwah

top three fav songs would be — dark vacay by cigarettes after sex, pyramids by frank ocean, and evil by melanie martinez

ITS OKKAAY i always appreciate whenever u stop by 💓💓 you too love have a good day !! BISSOUS 💋

[felixalbright]

FELIX ALBRIGHT

full name: felix james albright

pronouns & gender: he/him, cis man

birthday & birthplace: april 27, 1992 (31); aurora bay, ca

location: fisher's cove

time in aurora bay: born & raised, back as of a few weeks ago

sexuality: gay

occupation: music journalist/photographer at rolling stone

@aurorabayaesthetic

about.

felix was born and raised in AB, the youngest of three to two parents whose marriage was already crumbling by the time their first child was born. god knows why they stayed together or had two more kids, but they did, and they were at least decent enough people to try to keep the realities of their dissolving marriage away from their children as much as possible. they got divorced when felix was seven, and his mom moved home to london while his dad stayed home with the kids in AB.

so felix grew up being shuttled back and forth between AB and london a few times a year; he'd go see his mom for the summers and christmases and come back for the school year. his mom moving so far away did create a bit of a resentment in him that he doesn't talk about with anyone except his therapist, but it also sparked an inspiration that would carry him throughout his life.

his mom was fully stay-at-home before the divorce, but when she went back to london she started up her career again as an events coordinator for a music promotion and production company that put on shows for local up-and-coming artists. felix spent most of his summers hauling sound equipment and standing in the wings of stages with his mom, listening to music.

he picked up guitar and piano early on, but he realized easily enough that he wasn't meant to be a musician, so he started writing about it instead. when he was a kid, it started with emotions or images the music would evoke, but as he got older the writing matured and he realized that he actually had a talent for this kind of thing. his first byline appeared in a local zine in his mom's neighborhood in london when he was 14, covering a punk show he was way too young to be at and managing to score an interview with the band because they thought his precociousness was cute.

when he was home in AB, he was going out to LA to see shows as soon as he was old enough to drive. he started a blog that no one read, wrote for a little student-led music magazine that only printed 10 copies on black and white school printers (they thought it would make them seem more exclusive, but really no one had heard about it/actually wanted to read it). he used all of that to shop himself, freelance, to any publication that might have him while omitting his age. he actually got a few things in with some smaller names, and it was more than enough to keep him motivated.

his family didn't have a ton of money, so he stayed home and went to college in AB, studying english. it wasn't a perfect fit, but it gave him an excuse to stay writing all the time and to hone his voice. he kept freelancing throughout college and DJ’ed on campus radio, and his big writing break came when he was 21, with an opportunity to cover the strokes at a show in LA for rolling stone, after an editor had seen and liked his work for another site. the article, which followed the band over 24 hours, was a hit, and he got a couple more opportunities with rolling stone before he graduated college.

after graduation, he had a job offer with the magazine and took it without a second thought. he moved to LA full time but was only there for a cumulative few months out a year. his other home base was in london, but he was traveling a lot.

he loved his life for a long time, but around the nine year mark he just started to get exhausted. he was doing what he loved, but he was burnt out and not coping with it well. he didn't want to quit, but he needed a very long break, so he asked for something like a sabbatical from the magazine, which they granted given his years of dedication and the fact that he'd never once taken a sick day.

he moved back home to aurora bay about two weeks ago, where he's staying in his childhood bedroom in fisher’s cove while he gets the outline of a book together.

tidbits.

felix is excitable and talkative, and incredibly interrogative. he's always been a huge talker and has needed to stay one in his line of work. he's charming and quick with a smile, but is also nosy as fuck if his attention is captured. but that attention, though easily caught, isn't easily held. he’s often very distractible within his personal life (which means he’s terrible at returning texts or following through on plans) but is very concerned with every small detail in his work life, which makes him a good writer but not always a fun person to work or deal with.

his favorite interview so far was with paul mccartney in liverpool. they did a walking tour of the city and paul bought felix a beatles t-shirt from a souvenir store that he now has framed in his office in LA.

at his family's house in fisher's cove, his dad still has a now 18 year old cat named fred that felix picked from the shelter when he was 14.

keeps a tiny apartment in the montmartre neighborhood in paris on top of the LA and london places, which he pays way too much for considering he only uses it a few times a year. he can count the number of people he's ever brought there on one hand. it's sort of a sacred space for him

he never officially came out to either of his parents, just started casually mentioning guys he was dating in college. he's never actually talked about his sexuality with either of them.

probably polyamorous, though he doesn't know if he'd use that label. he's never cheated but has had multiple partners at once since he left AB, while being transparent about the fact that he's not a guy for just one other guy. he still thinks that he could comfortably settle into a monogamous relationship if the right partner wanted one.

connections.

childhood rivals to close friends w/ @blake-michaels

college ex-boyfriend of @atticus-cortes

pseudo older brother of @cassidyxcooke, @dancingdanvers

friend/came up with/avid fan of @xaviermattthews, @consrose

high school friends who fell out w/ @theotanaka

[grimbeak]

I'm 80% sure I only said this to myself in one of my hundreds of daily convos with myself but. Cecil following Carlos's tumblr when he gets one along with like. yeah cecil would follow EVERYONE on tumblr but only turn notifs on for carlos. anyway carlos posts absolutely nothing so it doesnt really matter and he only follows ONE person. its not cecil. its some normal housewife who complains ab her husband and occasionally goes on vintage shopping hauls. carlos can't figure out how to block the porn bots nor knows theyre not real so he just thinks he has a lot of nice ladies and then also cecil following him. cecil somehow gets ZERO porn bots.

[i-55truckandtrailerrepair]

Top Truck Repair Issues and Solutions for Drivers in Heth, AR

Truck drivers in Heth, AR face numerous challenges on the road, from long hauls to unexpected breakdowns. To ensure your truck stays in optimal condition and reduces the risk of costly downtime, it's essential to be aware of the most common truck repair issues and how to address them. Whether you're driving locally or over long distances, regular maintenance and prompt repairs are crucial. In this blog, we'll cover some of the most common truck repair problems and offer solutions to keep you on the road.

1. Brake Problems

Brakes are one of the most critical components in any vehicle, especially for heavy-duty trucks. Common issues include worn-out brake pads, leaking brake fluid, or malfunctioning ABS systems. If you notice squeaking or grinding noises, reduced braking power, or warning lights, it’s time to schedule an appointment at a truck repair shop in Heth, AR.

Solution: Regular brake inspections and timely replacement of brake pads and fluids can prevent costly failures. If you're on the road and experience brake issues, a Mobile Truck Repair service can get you back to work quickly.

2. Tire Wear and Blowouts

Tire problems are another common issue for truck drivers. Uneven tire wear, under-inflation, and punctures can all lead to tire blowouts, which can be dangerous and costly. Regularly checking your tire pressure and condition is key to avoiding these problems.

Solution: Perform regular tire inspections and rotate your tires to ensure even wear. Keeping your tires inflated to the manufacturer's recommended pressure can also help prevent blowouts. If a blowout does happen, contact a truck repair shop near me or use a Mobile Truck Repair service for on-site assistance.

3. Electrical System Issues

The electrical system in a truck controls everything from the lights to the ignition. Common issues include dead batteries, faulty alternators, and malfunctioning lights. If you notice dim headlights or difficulty starting your truck, it’s likely an electrical problem.

Solution: Keep your battery connections clean and tight, and schedule regular inspections of your electrical system. If you're experiencing electrical issues on the road, call a Truck Repair Near Me service for a quick fix.

4. Engine Problems

Engine issues can range from minor sensor malfunctions to more significant problems like overheating or power loss. These issues can leave you stranded if not addressed promptly. Regular oil changes and coolant checks are essential for keeping your engine running smoothly.

Solution: Schedule regular engine maintenance at a Truck Repair Shop and keep an eye on any dashboard warning lights. If you experience engine trouble on the road, contact a Mobile Truck Repair service to prevent further damage.

5. Transmission Failures

Transmission issues are a common and expensive repair for truck drivers. Signs of transmission problems include slipping gears, delayed engagement, and unusual noises when shifting. Ignoring these signs can result in a complete transmission failure, leading to expensive repairs.

Solution: Regularly check your transmission fluid and address any leaks immediately. Having your transmission serviced at a Truck Repair Shop Near Me can prevent major problems. If you experience transmission issues while driving, a Mobile Truck Repair service can offer on-site diagnostics and temporary solutions.

FAQs About Truck Repair in Heth, AR

Q: How often should I schedule maintenance for my truck?A: It’s recommended to schedule maintenance every 10,000 to 15,000 miles, depending on how your truck is used. Regular maintenance can prevent costly repairs and ensure your truck operates efficiently.

Q: What should I do if my truck breaks down on the road?A: If your truck breaks down, contact a Mobile Truck Repair service. They can come to your location and perform repairs on-site, helping you avoid towing fees and getting you back on the road faster.

Q: What are the benefits of preventive maintenance?A: Preventive maintenance helps avoid major breakdowns, reduces repair costs, and keeps your truck running efficiently by catching small issues before they become big problems.

Q: Can I call a mobile repair service for minor issues?A: Absolutely! Mobile Truck Repair services can handle everything from minor issues like tire changes and battery replacements to more significant repairs like engine diagnostics and brake fixes.

Contact I-55 Truck & Trailer Repair for Truck Repair in Heth, AR

If you're a truck driver in Heth, AR, regular maintenance and prompt repairs are essential for keeping your vehicle road-ready. At I-55 Truck & Trailer Repair, we offer comprehensive services, including preventive maintenance, engine diagnostics, and emergency Mobile Truck Repair.

Address: 7468 I-55, Crawfordsville, AR 72327, United States

Phone: (870) 635-4003

Hours: Open 24/7, 7 Days Per Week

Keep your truck in peak condition and avoid costly breakdowns by scheduling your next service with I-55 Truck & Trailer Repair today!

[harrisonchery]

Top 5 Reasons to Choose the Tiggo 7 as Your Next Family SUV

When choosing a family SUV, it’s important to find the perfect balance between style, functionality, safety, and affordability. One standout option that offers all of these qualities is the Tiggo 7. 

Manufactured by Chery, a leading Chinese automaker, the Tiggo 7 is designed to meet the evolving needs of modern families. With its impressive features, sleek design, and competitive pricing, this SUV is fast becoming a favourite among families worldwide.

In this blog, let’s explore the top five reasons why the new Tiggo 7 pro should be at the top of your list when shopping for your next family SUV.

1. Spacious and Comfortable Interior

One of the primary concerns for any family vehicle is space, and the Tiggo 7 excels in this department. With ample room for both passengers and cargo, this SUV is designed to accommodate the demands of family life.

The Tiggo 7 offers seating for five with plenty of legroom and headroom, ensuring a comfortable ride for all passengers. The rear seats are foldable, allowing you to easily expand the trunk space when needed. This makes it perfect for family road trips, grocery hauls, or simply transporting the kids and their gear to school and sports events.

In addition, the Tiggo 7 comes with premium-quality materials and a thoughtfully designed cabin, offering a comfortable and luxurious environment. From its ergonomic seats to the soft-touch materials on the dashboard, the interior is crafted with attention to detail, providing both comfort and style.

2. Advanced Safety Features

Safety is a top priority for any family vehicle, and the Tiggo 7 takes this seriously. It is packed with cutting-edge safety features that provide peace of mind for parents and passengers alike. The advanced driver-assist systems and safety technologies are designed to prevent accidents and protect your loved ones.

Some of the key safety features include:

Anti-lock Braking System (ABS): Ensures that the brakes don’t lock up during sudden stops, reducing the risk of skidding.

Electronic Stability Control (ESC): Helps maintain control during slippery conditions or sharp turns by adjusting engine power and applying brakes to individual wheels.

Hill Start Assist: Prevents the vehicle from rolling backward when starting on an incline, making hill starts safer and easier.

Multiple Airbags: Front, side, and curtain airbags are standard, providing comprehensive protection in the event of a collision.

Rear Parking Sensors and Camera: These features make parking a breeze and help prevent accidents in tight spaces or while reversing.

All of these features work together to make the Tiggo 7 one of the safest SUVs in its class, ensuring that your family is protected at all times.

3. Fuel Efficiency and Performance

Fuel economy is another important factor when selecting a family SUV, and the Tiggo 7 delivers excellent efficiency without compromising on performance. Equipped with a 1.5L turbocharged engine, the Tiggo 7 provides a perfect balance of power and fuel savings.

The engine delivers smooth acceleration and impressive power output, making it ideal for both city driving and long highway journeys. The Tiggo 7 also features Eco Mode, which optimises fuel consumption by adjusting throttle response and transmission shifts. This feature is particularly beneficial for families looking to save on fuel costs, especially during long road trips or daily commutes.

On average, the Tiggo 7 offers fuel consumption figures of around 7.5 litres per 100 kilometres, which is highly competitive for an SUV of its size. With this level of efficiency, you can drive longer distances without frequent stops at the gas station, making it a practical choice for budget-conscious families.

4. Stylish Design and Cutting-Edge Technology

While functionality is crucial, the Tiggo 7 doesn’t skimp on style. Its modern and sleek exterior design sets it apart from other SUVs in the same segment. With bold lines, a distinctive front grille, and LED headlights, the Tiggo 7 exudes sophistication and road presence.

Inside, the new Tiggo 7 pro is just as impressive. The infotainment system features a large touchscreen display with smartphone integration, making it easy to connect your devices via Apple CarPlay or Android Auto. This allows you to enjoy hands-free calling, music streaming, and access to navigation apps, keeping the whole family entertained and connected throughout the journey.

Additional tech features include a keyless entry system, push-button start, and climate control, all of which contribute to the overall convenience and ease of use. The digital instrument cluster provides real-time data on speed, fuel economy, and driving modes, keeping you informed at all times.

5. Affordable Price and Great Value

Perhaps one of the most compelling reasons to choose the Tiggo 7 as your next family SUV is its affordability. Compared to other vehicles in its class, the Tiggo 7 offers exceptional value for money. Despite its advanced features and premium feel, the Tiggo 7 comes at a competitive price point, making it an attractive option for families on a budget.

The low initial cost is further complemented by the Tiggo 7’s low maintenance costs and excellent fuel efficiency, which helps you save even more in the long run. Chery’s comprehensive warranty package also adds to the vehicle’s value, offering long-term protection and ensuring that your investment is secure.

Summing Up

The Tiggo 7 is an ideal choice for families seeking an affordable, stylish, and feature-packed SUV. Its spacious interior, advanced safety features, excellent fuel economy, and modern technology make it a top contender in the family SUV market. With the new Tiggo 7 pro, you can enjoy the perfect blend of performance, comfort, and value, ensuring that every family journey is safe and enjoyable.

If you’re looking for a reliable and stylish SUV that meets the needs of your family without breaking the bank, the Tiggo 7 is definitely worth considering.

Source by - https://shorturl.at/gpGW9 

[capitaldieseltruckrepair]

5 Common Truck Problems in Sacramento and How Mobile Repair Services Can Help You Stay on the Road

For truck drivers in Sacramento, keeping vehicles in top shape is a constant challenge. The city’s busy roads, diverse weather conditions, and long routes can lead to unexpected mechanical issues that interrupt your schedule and impact your bottom line. In this blog, we'll highlight five common truck problems that Sacramento drivers frequently face and explain how Capital Diesel Truck Repair services offer effective, on-site solutions. From engine overheating to brake failures, these services help you avoid unnecessary trips to a traditional Truck Repair Shop.

The Role of Mobile Truck Repair in Sacramento

Operating a truck in Sacramento involves unique challenges. Heavy traffic, unpredictable weather, and long hauls all take their toll on your vehicle, leading to mechanical breakdowns and unexpected delays. Traditionally, truckers had to tow their vehicles to a Truck Repair Shop, which often meant wasting valuable time and money. Thankfully, Mobile Truck Repair services now provide quick, on-the-spot solutions, allowing drivers to get back on the road faster.

5 Common Truck Problems in Sacramento

Engine Overheating Engine overheating is a common issue for truck drivers in Sacramento, especially during the hot summer months. High temperatures and heavy loads can strain the engine, causing it to overheat. If not addressed promptly, overheating can lead to significant engine damage. Mobile Truck Repair services can quickly diagnose and repair overheating problems on-site, preventing further damage and minimizing downtime.

Brake Failures Brake issues are a serious concern, particularly in Sacramento's dense traffic. The frequent stops and starts can cause brake pads to wear out, or lead to problems like leaky brake lines and malfunctioning ABS systems. A Truck Repair service can provide immediate assistance with brake inspections, pad replacements, and fluid checks, ensuring your truck remains safe and compliant with road safety regulations.

Battery and Electrical Problems Electrical issues are another frequent challenge for truck drivers, especially in modern vehicles that depend heavily on electronic systems. Sacramento's fluctuating temperatures can lead to battery failures, alternator problems, and other electrical malfunctions. Mobile Truck Repair services offer on-site battery replacements, jump-starts, and electrical diagnostics to ensure your truck's power systems remain fully functional.

Transmission Troubles Transmission problems can be particularly disruptive, often causing a complete vehicle stoppage. Issues like slipping gears, delayed shifting, or transmission fluid leaks are common in trucks navigating Sacramento’s varied terrain. A Mobile Truck Repair service can handle these complex repairs on-site, using advanced diagnostics to make necessary adjustments or replacements, avoiding the need for a Truck Repair Shop visit.

Tire Blowouts Tire blowouts are a frequent issue on Sacramento's busy roads and highways. Worn-out tires, improper inflation, or road debris can all cause blowouts. Mobile Truck Repair services provide tire replacements, repairs, and rotations on-site, saving you the time and hassle of waiting for a tow truck or searching for a repair shop. This ensures your truck can continue its journey with minimal delay.

Specific Service: Truck Roadside Assistance

Breakdowns can happen at any time, and being stranded on the side of the road is not only stressful but also potentially dangerous. That's where Truck Roadside Assistance comes in. With 24/7 availability, Capital Diesel Truck Repair offers fast and reliable roadside assistance services, providing everything from minor repairs and jump-starts to more complex diagnostics right at your location. This ensures that you get back on the road as quickly as possible, no matter when or where the breakdown occurs.

Why Choose Mobile Truck Repair Over a Traditional Truck Repair Shop?

Opting for Mobile Truck Repair services instead of a traditional Truck Repair Shop comes with several benefits:

Time-Saving: Mobile services come directly to you, eliminating the need for a tow and reducing the time spent waiting in a shop. This is especially valuable in a busy city like Sacramento, where every minute counts.

Convenience: Whether you’re stuck on the side of the road or in a parking lot, mobile services come to your location, minimizing the stress and inconvenience associated with breakdowns.

Cost-Effective: Mobile services often have lower overhead costs than traditional shops, which translates into competitive pricing. You also save on towing fees and reduce downtime, making Mobile Truck Repair a cost-effective option.

Advanced Tools and Technology: Companies like Capital Diesel Truck Repair use the latest tools and technology to perform complex diagnostics and repairs on-site, ensuring high-quality service without sacrificing convenience.

FAQs

What should I do if my truck breaks down in Sacramento? If your truck breaks down in Sacramento, ensure your safety by pulling over to a secure location. Then, contact a Mobile Truck Repair service. They can come directly to your location and perform the necessary repairs, getting you back on the road quickly.

Are Mobile Truck Repair services more expensive than visiting a Truck Repair Shop? Not necessarily. While on-site service might seem more expensive, Mobile Truck Repair services often have lower overhead costs than traditional shops. You also save on towing fees and reduce downtime, making them a cost-effective option.

Can Mobile Truck Repair services handle major repairs? Yes, many Mobile Truck Repair services are equipped to handle a wide range of repairs, including major issues like engine and transmission work. They carry the tools and parts necessary to perform these repairs on-site, though some extensive repairs may still require a visit to a Truck Repair Shop.

How quickly can a Mobile Truck Repair service respond in Sacramento? Response times can vary, but most Mobile Truck Repair services in Sacramento prioritize quick response times to minimize downtime. Many offer 24/7 availability, ensuring help is always available when you need it.

Is there a guarantee on Mobile Truck Repair services? Yes, reputable Mobile Truck Repair services typically offer guarantees on their work, similar to those provided by traditional Truck Repair Shops. Always inquire about warranty terms before any work begins.

Do Mobile Truck Repair services cover all areas around Sacramento? Most Mobile Truck Repair services cover a wide radius around Sacramento, often extending up to 50 miles or more, including areas like Davis, Elk Grove, and Citrus Heights, ensuring help is available even outside the city limits.

Conclusion

Keeping your truck running smoothly in Sacramento's challenging environment can be tough, but Mobile Truck Repair services offer a reliable and convenient solution to common problems. Whether you're dealing with engine overheating, brake issues, or electrical failures, these on-site services ensure your vehicle stays roadworthy. With Truck Roadside Assistance, you can rely on quick, efficient help whenever and wherever you need it.

If you're experiencing truck troubles in Sacramento or nearby areas, Capital Diesel Truck Repair is ready to assist. Contact us today at +1 (916) 949-4882 or visit us at 941 Vinci Ave, Sacramento, CA 95838 for more information.

Contact Information:

Phone: +1 (916) 949-4882

Address: 941 Vinci Ave, Sacramento, CA 95838

Website: Capital Diesel Truck Repair

Need reliable Mobile Truck Repair or Truck Roadside Assistance? Reach out to Capital Diesel Truck Repair today for fast, efficient, and expert services right at your location.

[adroitextrusion]

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[neewtmas]

AKJHDKFKSD FINALLY

just the header already took me OUT✋🏻🫠

I know this will be the death of me, buff George can get it

You frowned at the boy in the armchair, who looked like the last thing he wanted to do was to share. “Am I supposed to fight you for them or something?”

that is so funny to imagine help

“What's going on with you and George?” This was definitely odd. “It feels like you've gone past teasing, you're almost flirting with each other.”

whaaaaat? I have no idea what you mean🙈

Her eyebrow quirked up at that. “You have a type?”

fuck yes I do👀

Lucy nodded. “Interesting.” It was spoken with the air of someone who knew exactly why it was interesting and someone who was absolutely not going to explain why.

the glee she must be feeling in that moment asgfsjfghkl

Just trying to hoist them up to make sure you'd oiled all the way round each joint was a workout.

god that sounds so tedious

someone cute and buff better come rescue me soon🤭🤭

He chuckled, climbing down the final few steps and holding out his hand. “Will the sacred pact allow a lunch break? I made soup.

Ah! convenient😉

There were two steaming bowls already set out on the table when you got back to the kitchen, and beside yours was a plate of sandwiches, cut exactly how you liked them.

I need him to cook for me oh my god

Your eyes widened as he scooped up a whole length in one easy movement and gave them a quick shake loose.

🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠

You raised your fist higher, leaning forward in an offered challenge. “Right. Arm wrestle. Loser goes.”

the fuck am I thinking even if he wasnt buff at all I'd very probably lose😭

You weren't sure why you'd expected the easy, flexible grip of holding a rapier, but his fingers were clenched firmly around the back of your hand.

yeah that's just about enough to make me lose instantly🫠

You stared in shock at the boy opposite, the triumphant toothy grin that crinkled his eyes, the unexpected tightness of his shirt sleeve around his arm. The similar tightness in your chest.

sdhksdhakhd

You drew in a shaky breath as you struggled to drag your eyes away from George's arm, which was still pinning yours to the table. After a moment, you felt his fingers loosen and with some reluctance pulled your hand away. The silence in the room was palpable.

screaming, crying, throwing up OMFG

A flash of bicep clouded your vision again, and you reached for the door handle before you did something regrettable.

me fr

George moved closer, and you swallowed a lump in your throat. “I was actually going to question why you looked like you were about to leave without a coat.” He reached to the rack over your shoulder, lifting yours from its hook.

I'm just gonna pass out right there if you don't mind

“Well, I uh… I ran you a bath to warm you back up. I'll put this away.” He hauled up the bags of shopping with barely a huff, and you tried to reason that he hadn't just carried them through a storm.

12/10 on the attractiveness scale AHHHH

He wasn't like George though - smart, funny, thoughtful George.

Still didn't mean you fancied him, you told yourself.

the denial is stroooong😩🤭 just the way we love it

You'd chat or enjoy the companionable quiet, you'd both be at ease; nothing could possibly happen, which would give you time to prove your feelings were a fluke.

sure thing, I'm certain that will work

The sound died in your throat when he took off his gloves, draped them on the side of the sink and rolled his sleeves up out of the way.

I don't even kow what to do with that image HELP

You wondered whether it was just his arms that were so toned, or was the rest of him the same? Was he hiding a set of abs under that T-shirt too? Were his thighs-

The sincerity in his voice caught you off guard, as did his deep brown eyes as he raised his head to look at you. You were already distracted by the tension which lingered in his shoulders, the rigidity of his arms as they supported his weight, the way he had leaned into the pose so much that now when he looked up his face was so close it almost filled your vision.

no words, just 🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠

The silence that followed dragged on longer than you could bear. Why wasn't she saying anything? You forced yourself to sit up. George stood at the entrance to your room, eyes wide and lips parted.

adskjdhkdhkjshksd ACCIDENTAL CONFESSION FUCK YES

There was no mistaking it: he'd heard you basically say you loved him and now there he was looking like the mere concept was so unbelievable, like the option hadn't even crossed his mind. Why would it?

ALKFLISHDF i am not functioning anymoreee

George stepped closer, and you shrunk even further into yourself. Your heart skipped a beat when he gently tilted your chin up to meet his surprisingly soft gaze. “I meant, why do you think I don't love you back?”

🚨CHIN TILT 🚨CHIN TILT 🚨CHIN TILT🚨

“Have you seen yourself?” Hesitantly, you raised a hand to his bicep, marvelling at finally being able to feel the muscle instead of just staring at it, and more amazed at the way the boy responded to your touch, drifting closer until you were barely inches apart.

You yelped in surprise as his other arm hooked under your legs and swept you off your feet, your arms flying up round his neck for support. His arm was tense across your back but he looked the most relaxed he'd been since he walked in, and he shifted you closer to press a quick kiss to your lips before setting you down on the bed and sitting beside you.

I think I have just died and gone to heaven

MERRY YOU KNOCKED THAT OUT OF THE PARK OUT OF THE UNIVERSE I LOVE YOU

Rock Paper Scissors

Pairings: George Karim x gn!reader, background Locklyle

Summary: George is your best friend, Lucy's convinced there's more to it but he's not your type... is he?

Content: friends to lovers, oblivious flirting, misunderstanding, light swearing and suggestive thoughts, kisses

A/N: it's officially 1 year since I posted my first Lockwood & Co fic!! Thank you all for making it such an incredible year and continuing to support my writing, it means the world to me ❤️ and thank you to the Multiverse of George for fuelling the buff!George fire 🔥 I've even made a montage so everyone can see the vision, plus the gif above of George swinging the chains he's definitely strong 💪

Word count: 4.2k

Taglist: @neewtmas @marinalor @ettadear @honey-with-tea @mischiefmanaged71 (let me know if you want adding or removing!)

Ever since you'd started working for Lockwood & Co, you and George had had the most playful rivalry.

It had started on the very first day, when you came for your interview. Lucy had welcomed you into the living room while George went to fetch the biscuits. After breezing through the tests, Lockwood gestured to the plate still being clutched by the other boy.

“Biscuit?”

You frowned at the boy in the armchair, who looked like the last thing he wanted to do was to share. “Am I supposed to fight you for them or something?”

George had the audacity to snort. “In your dreams.” But then he did offer you the plate, albeit reluctantly.

Once you got used to one another, you found that you actually got on really well and gradually he became your best friend, but by then you'd set a precedent that neither of you wanted to drop.

“We're heading out soon,” Lucy informed you both as she slid cups of tea across the table. She and Lockwood had an appointment with a client, leaving you and George behind to keep working. “Can one of you oil the chains ready for tonight?”

You turned to George; he was already looking at you. A gleam came to his eye.

“Rock paper scissors?”

“You bet,” you grinned, already raising your hand. It took a few attempts, as you'd done it so many times by now that the two of you knew what each other was planning before it happened, but eventually you lost. Sticking your tongue out, you picked up your cup and headed towards the basement. Lucy followed you down.

“Can I ask you something?” she began cautiously.

“Course you can.” It wasn't like Lucy to not just ask straight out. This was odd.

“What's going on with you and George?” This was definitely odd. “It feels like you've gone past teasing, you're almost flirting with each other.”

Your gaze flew to your friend, who had lingered on the stairs. Was she being serious? “It's not like that, Luce,” you replied, wondering if it was warm in the basement or if it was just you. “I love him to bits, but the same way I love all of you. He's just not my type.”

Her eyebrow quirked up at that. “You have a type?”

“Don't say that like you don't,” you hit back. “You and Lockwood are made for each other! And George is great, really, but I prefer guys a bit more… buff?”

Lucy nodded. “Interesting.” It was spoken with the air of someone who knew exactly why it was interesting and someone who was absolutely not going to explain why. “Well… just don't rule anything out, but please be careful. I love you both too and I'd hate to see either of you get hurt.”

It was touching to hear her so candid about her feelings for you both. “I won't, I promise.”

—

You always forgot how ridiculously heavy the chains were. Just trying to hoist them up to make sure you'd oiled all the way round each joint was a workout. It was only adrenaline that carried you through working with them on cases. Thank goodness you were almost finished - your arms were beginning to ache and you were sure you were coated in sweat.

“Need a hand?” George's voice drifted from the stairs. You hadn't heard him come down, probably drowned out by the clanking links and your strained grunts, but there he was, sitting on one of the lower steps and watching you in amusement.

“You mean you want me to dishonour the sacred pact of rock paper scissors?” You mimed fainting in shock, taking the opportunity to slump back on the pile of chains and let the tension dissipate from your shoulders.

He chuckled, climbing down the final few steps and holding out his hand. “Will the sacred pact allow a lunch break? I made soup.” He'd got you there and he knew it. You loved his soup. Grinning, you accepted his hand and he pulled you away from the cold, hard metal.

There were two steaming bowls already set out on the table when you got back to the kitchen, and beside yours was a plate of sandwiches, cut exactly how you liked them.

“You're the best.”

“I know,” George smirked. He was eating with one hand, the other scribbling away on the Thinking Cloth. As he became more engrossed, he leant further forwards, his dark curls flopping over his brow. It was fascinating watching him get so engrossed in his work, the whole world melting away around him. Once you finished eating, you glanced across and took his empty bowl from in front of him. He looked up sharply, snapped from wherever his thoughts had taken him.

“Sorry, didn't mean to disturb you,” you mumbled.

“No, it's fine. We should probably get packed.”

You followed him down to the basement and pulled your kit bags from the shelf. Set side by side on the table, you both began to load up.

“You can carry the chains,” you told him over your shoulder as you picked up a half-empty box of flares and emptied it into your bag.

“Hey, you're the one who lost!”

“Only for cleaning them, I've done my bit.”

He huffed, but gave you a smile as he made his way over to the mound of chains. Your eyes widened as he scooped up a whole length in one easy movement and gave them a quick shake loose. You'd spent nearly quarter of an hour trying to manoeuvre that section earlier.

“How the hell did you do that?”

“They're not that heavy,” he shrugged, then added with a cheeky raised eyebrow, “or at least only when you’re trying to clean them.”

You threw the empty cardboard box at his head with a laugh.

—

A week later, the four of you were nestled in the living room. Outside, rain battered against the windows, which were almost being shaken out of their frames by the driving wind. You'd never have guessed it was June; it felt more like January. The fire was lit in the hearth, the occasional crackle of wood splitting the only other sound.

Eventually, Lockwood broke the silence. “I hate to say it, but someone's going to have to go out. We've got no tea left and barely enough food to last until tonight. We can draw straws to make it fair.”

He needn't have bothered. You and George already had your fists raised. One, two, three, paper. One, two, three, rock. Scissors. Paper. Scissors. Rock. Round and round you went, the symmetry only fuelling your competitive natures.

“This is ridiculous,” Lucy muttered. She was right, of course.

You raised your fist higher, leaning forward in an offered challenge. “Right. Arm wrestle. Loser goes.”

George leaned in, resting his elbow on the table. Lockwood and Lucy exchanged wide-eyed glances.

“Y/n…” Lucy began, but you weren't listening. Your elbow was already mirroring George's, hand in his. You weren't sure why you'd expected the easy, flexible grip of holding a rapier, but his fingers were clenched firmly around the back of your hand. Lockwood moved closer and counted you down.

Your hand hit the table almost immediately.

It felt like all the air had left the room. You stared in shock at the boy opposite, the triumphant toothy grin that crinkled his eyes, the unexpected tightness of his shirt sleeve around his arm. The similar tightness in your chest. Interesting.

Some sort of realisation hit you, and your attention shifted to Lucy. The look she was giving you was almost as satisfied as George's. Warmth flooded your cheeks. You drew in a shaky breath as you struggled to drag your eyes away from George's arm, which was still pinning yours to the table. After a moment, you felt his fingers loosen and with some reluctance pulled your hand away. The silence in the room was palpable. Lucy was still watching you in amusement. Lockwood was watching Lucy, trying to figure out why she had that “I know something you don't” look again over a simple arm wrestle. George was watching you too, his expression slowly shifting from victory to concern.

“Y/n? You okay?” he asked quietly. Your thoughts rushed back into your body, snapping your attention into the real world.

“All good,” you mumbled. “Just preparing to get drenched. If I'm not back in 20 minutes, assume I've been blown to the other end of the country.” At least that got a laugh out of Lockwood. Hurriedly, you stood and made your way to the front door. Why had you agreed to this? It was your own fault, of course, for continuing this whole competitive thing with George, but how were you to know he was that strong? A flash of bicep clouded your vision again, and you reached for the door handle before you did something regrettable.

“Hold on,” a voice came behind you. It was him. Keep it together, you told yourself.

“If you're about to volunteer to take my place, go ahead,” you forced yourself to stay casual.

George moved closer, and you swallowed a lump in your throat. “I was actually going to question why you looked like you were about to leave without a coat.” He reached to the rack over your shoulder, lifting yours from its hook.

“That might help.” You knew you were blushing again, but prayed he thought it was just from embarrassment at being so forgetful. Definitely not how close he was, how he was holding your coat in the same hand that had been holding yours moments ago.

—

By the time you made it back to the house, you were soaked to the bone and almost shivering. It seemed like the storm wasn't going to let up until at least the next day, so you'd decided to stock up on plenty of food which had seemed like a great idea until you tried to carry it all home. You'd had to stop several times on the way, ducking into doorways and bus shelters to escape the weather as you swapped hands, flexed your shoulders or relieved your fingers from where the handles of the bags had started to make dents. When you finally made it, you held the door open with one foot as you negotiated the bags in and dropped them unceremoniously on the hall floor. George emerged from the living room, alone this time; Lockwood and Lucy must have gone upstairs or down to the basement.

“You look awful.”

“Aww thanks, you're not so bad yourself,” you joked dryly. Oh god, Lucy was right, you were almost flirting. A shiver ran through you and this time you hoped it was from the cold.

For a second, you thought you saw George's eyelids flutter. “Well, I uh… I ran you a bath to warm you back up. I'll put this away.” He hauled up the bags of shopping with barely a huff, and you tried to reason that he hadn't just carried them through a storm.

The water was soothingly warm and scented with lavender salts, the smell wafting up in delicate bursts as it swirled around, relaxing all the tension in your aching muscles. As you lay peacefully, you reflected on what had happened earlier. You weren't sure you'd ever felt… You couldn't even identify what feelings you'd experienced during the arm wrestle. Shock? Embarrassment? No. It was something else, something that Lucy had noticed immediately and had been trying to get through to your oblivious self. But she was wrong, wasn't she? You said it yourself, you weren't into George, even if he did now fulfil your main criteria. Then again, so did plenty of other guys you'd met. Kipps was quite well built, definitely had muscles, but that didn't mean you'd considered dating him. He wasn't like George though - smart, funny, thoughtful George. You couldn't imagine Kipps running you a bath or making your favourite lunch, or doing any number of the things that with George felt so natural. And there were all the little things you did for him that you'd never do for anyone else. No, there were no two ways about it: you were a pair in whatever capacity that meant.

Still didn't mean you fancied him, you told yourself.

You volunteered to help George with the dishes after dinner that night. It was always nice to be able to spend time just the two of you in sync, but tonight especially you figured it was a good idea to be around him in perfectly normal circumstances. You'd chat or enjoy the companionable quiet, you'd both be at ease; nothing could possibly happen, which would give you time to prove your feelings were a fluke.

George picked up his blue rubber gloves and tossed you a tea towel. He was dressed casually, in sweatpants and an oversized T-shirt (so large that the sleeves almost met his gloves at the elbow). The radio was playing quietly in the background, giving you a welcome distraction. Whenever a song you recognised came on, you'd start humming along or singing under your breath, and George would smile at you, sometimes even joining in. Your heart leapt a bit when he did, but that was nothing, you were just happy to be sharing this moment with your friend. He stuck an arm deeper into the sink to grab something at the bottom and made a small noise. Water had splashed up onto the cuff of his sleeve. You giggled at the look of disgust he made at the wet fabric sticking to his skin. The sound died in your throat when he took off his gloves, draped them on the side of the sink and rolled his sleeves up out of the way. You were so used to him being hidden behind his giant tops, or at the very least being in longer sleeved shirts, that seeing his bicep completely exposed was a shock in more ways than one. It wasn't much wonder he'd beaten you so easily at arm wrestling with muscles like that. You wondered whether it was just his arms that were so toned, or was the rest of him the same? Was he hiding a set of abs under that T-shirt too? Were his thighs-

“You okay?” George nudged you, and you hastily looked away.

“I was just…” Come on, come on, find an excuse, your brain urged. “...thinking how this means we both got wet clothes today, if you want me to put that top in with my washing after this?” God that was lame. Not much wonder he wasn't interested in you. That wasn't the point, you reminded yourself.

“Oh,” he smiled. “That'd be great, thanks.” He leant over to put a chopping board on the draining rack, and his bicep brushed against yours. A shockwave of warmth resonated through your whole body. Oh.

“Tell you what,” you forced yourself not to stammer, “are you okay to finish up here and I'll go and grab the laundry basket?” He nodded, and you tried not to fall over your own feet as you retreated to the hallway and sucked in a breath to calm your racing heart. Oh.

—

You cursed yourself for ever starting this. No, this was Lucy's fault for pointing it out. No, still your fault.

Being around George was becoming unbearable. Not for anything he'd done, rather the things he wasn't doing. He was carrying on exactly as he always had, that inimitable blend of playful and caring, and it was driving you mad not knowing whether he meant any of it in the way you wanted him to. You couldn't say anything, of course. If you were wrong, it would mess up the whole dynamic of the group. That would hurt almost as much as any rejection. But the more things went on, the more you took notice of the little moments between you, the more your feelings grew until it felt like they would crawl out of your chest.

“What the hell were you thinking?” George snapped at Lockwood. He and Lucy had been out on a case which went badly, and now the four of you were sitting at the dining table in the early hours, George applying butterfly stitches to a cut on Lockwood's arm and you cleaning a couple of scratches on Lucy's face. The misty gloom of the night outside the window reflected the atmosphere within.

“I was thinking,” Lockwood snapped back, “that we only had to handle a couple of Type Ones, according to your notes.”

“I told you those weren't finished!”

“Well maybe next time, don't get distracted.” Was it your imagination, or had his gaze flickered to you?

“Maybe next time,” George replied darkly, “do your own research.”

“Fine.” Lockwood pushed his chair back and stalked from the room. Lucy shot you both an apologetic grimace and followed.

George began pacing round the kitchen, hands twitching angrily. You stayed at the table, knowing it was best to give him the space to say or do whatever he needed to let his feelings out. You were there if he needed you.

“Can you believe him?” It was rhetorical, you'd heard him say it enough to know, so you waited for him to continue. “We end up in this situation almost every week, because he's too reckless to wait! I know he'd rather be in the action, but he'd be able to do all that more if he'd let me give him the right information first.”

You gently waded in, trying to be reassuring. “We all know how useful your research is; he just gets overeager, especially when Lucy's involved.”

“I know you know how important it is,” his words sent butterflies through you, “but Lockwood just…” He gave a frustrated huff. “Maybe I should make him do all the legwork for a change.” You tried very hard not to think about whether George's legs were as muscular as his arms.

“I'll support whatever you decide, but for what it's worth I think you should just talk to him.”

He sighed heavily, placing his hands flat on the table and allowing his head to drop. “You're right. Thanks, y/n.” The sincerity in his voice caught you off guard, as did his deep brown eyes as he raised his head to look at you. You were already distracted by the tension which lingered in his shoulders, the rigidity of his arms as they supported his weight, the way he had leaned into the pose so much that now when he looked up his face was so close it almost filled your vision. You swallowed nervously.

“Any time. I- I have to go.” You stumbled up from your chair, ignoring George's confused stare and sounds of protest as you practically bolted from the room.

—

You lay on your bed in the attic, tears slowly soaking into the pillow you'd buried your face in. This was the end; it had to be. You couldn't carry on working for the agency like this. If George had shown any interest it would be okay - Lockwood and Lucy managed to balance being a couple who worked and lived together, there was no reason you two couldn't do the same, but it could never work being so one-sided. You'd just keep being weird, struggling to hold your nerve around the boy until it would start bleeding into cases and Lockwood would have no choice but to fire you for everyone's safety, if you hadn't already got one of you hurt by then. Not to mention the emotional hurt. It would happen either way, but at least if you walked away now you could control it.

“Y/n?” Lucy's voice came tentatively from the bottom of the steps. “George said you ran off, is everything okay?”

You flipped onto your back, drawing in shuddering breaths to recover from almost suffocating in the pillow. “You were right, Luce.” There was movement on the steps, but you kept your eyes on the ceiling. You couldn't bear to look at anyone right now. “I tried so hard to make sure neither of us got hurt, but George doesn't love me back and now I feel like even if I stay I'm going to lose him.”

The silence that followed dragged on longer than you could bear. Why wasn't she saying anything? You forced yourself to sit up.

George stood at the entrance to your room, eyes wide and lips parted.

You scrambled to your feet. “Shit! I mean, hi, um… how long have you been there?”

George continued to stare.

“I'm so sorry,” the words were rushing out of you now, “I just panicked but I don't want to make things weird so can we just pretend-”

“What do you mean, ‘doesn't love me back'?” he interrupted quietly.

You froze. There was no mistaking it: he'd heard you basically say you loved him and now there he was looking like the mere concept was so unbelievable, like the option hadn't even crossed his mind. Why would it? Time stretched on as you fought the urge to run again, as far as the ever-widening space between you would allow. Neither of you had moved, but you could feel the room expanding around you to make room for the bottomless pit you wanted to crawl into. “I…” you drew in a slow, deep breath, “I was fine just being friends but Lucy got in my head about you being exactly my type and now I think I'm actually flirting while you're still just pretending and I'm sorry…” Tears were pricking at the corners of your eyes and you hurriedly looked away, hoping he wouldn't see.

George stepped closer, and you shrunk even further into yourself. Your heart skipped a beat when he gently tilted your chin up to meet his surprisingly soft gaze. “I meant, why do you think I don't love you back?”

You faltered. Was he saying what you thought he was? “Well, I mean, I thought I'd made things super obvious and awkward but you didn't change so I thought you weren't interested.”

George's hand was still on your chin and his thumb rubbed soothingly across your cheek, wiping away the single tear that had spilled. “I thought you weren't interested! You normally go for those muscly gym guys so I figured I'd take whatever I could get with the arm wrestles and stuff, but then you started avoiding me so I thought you were done with it.”

A small laugh escaped you, and he looked at you in confusion. “Have you seen yourself?” Hesitantly, you raised a hand to his bicep, marvelling at finally being able to feel the muscle instead of just staring at it, and more amazed at the way the boy responded to your touch, drifting closer until you were barely inches apart.

“So then why did you run?” His voice was whisper soft against your face, eyes gazing down at you with an overwhelming blend of sincerity, bewilderment and something like longing. His cheeks were tinted as pink as you knew yours were.

“Got flustered.”

“Flustered? You? I don't believe you.” A smile tugged at the edge of his lips, the playfulness you were used to creeping back into his voice. It was such a relief to feel the tension dissipating from the room, to have your George back, that you buried your head in his shoulder with a giggle. He laughed too, wrapping an arm around your waist. “Oh, I see, you really want to do this? Okay, let's see ‘flustered y/n’ at their best.”

You yelped in surprise as his other arm hooked under your legs and swept you off your feet, your arms flying up round his neck for support. His arm was tense across your back but he looked the most relaxed he'd been since he walked in, and he shifted you closer to press a quick kiss to your lips before setting you down on the bed and sitting beside you.

“Lucy's going to be very smug about this, you know,” he nudged you.

“I know,” you whined, burying your face in your hands. “Rock paper scissors for who has to tell her.” George laughed again and placed his arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer as you leant into the embrace.

“Is this just a ploy to get more hugs?”

“Is it working?”

In response, he brought his other arm around your waist and kissed your forehead. You smiled, leaning up to kiss him properly, and he reciprocated eagerly.

—

Lucy had left George alone on the steps to your room once you started your confession, giving you both a bit of privacy, and decided when he didn't come back downstairs immediately that things had either gone very badly or very well. She believed, and hoped, that it was the latter. Her suspicions were confirmed when she came to tell you she'd made breakfast and found you fast asleep, wrapped in George's arms.

[vipassanaalewritingprompt]

Writing Prompt #2

I don't usually watch unboxing or mukbang videos, but I have noticed that a lot of the time when I do end up watching these types of videos will be when I have some level of relatability to the video to the creator. What I mean by this is that I find myself looking up unboxing videos or shopping hauls for products that I have purchased myself. Over winter break I bought a new MacBook and I found myself searching for unboxing videos for the MacBook I was waiting for in the mail. I think I do this, especially for big purchases, as it gives comfort seeing someone else's reaction knowing you are also about to or have experienced what they just filmed themselves doing. When it comes to mukbangs I definitely go down a rabbit hole, especially when I am craving to eat something. When I crave noodles, I will find myself watching spicy noodle mukbangs, or when I crave a seafood boil, I will watch that as well. I have had conversations with my friends about how we can relate to this experince where they also will tell me they watch mukbangs after having cravings for certain foods. When it comes to food, the idea of watching someone else experience something while you are craving the food they are eating is satisfying to me. I can see myself in their shoes with the activity they are doing whether it be an unboxing or eating food. I can watch and feel the overall experience without having to actually do it myself.

One way you can convert unboxing/mukbangs into a meaningful experience or strategy is by using these videos as a technique to know the products better before consuming them yourself. I agree with what Abe during class said, he watches the videos because most of the time they have a review at the end and I think this is a great way to utilize these types of videos to help strategize your own consumption. The reason I will watch unboxing videos on items I want is to really know if they are worth it from the perspective of someone else. It is another form of input to add to your own knowledge to help you make your decision about what to consume.

I think the experience is half about the product and the other half more about anticipation and curiosity.