#as I didn't do all that great with that for these past two weeks

[cvnntagious]

:: babydaddy!matt finally confronts brat!reader about her sudden distance, but it doesn’t quite go as expected

conversations like these were hard for matt, to say the least — he hated to feel like he was overstepping boundaries you'd so carefully set in any way, but he had to. everything was going so well between you two. for it to all suddenly slip between his ringed fingers like water? he couldn't just sit back and let you push him away like this.

with the silence in the living room, save for the cartoon mazzy had fallen asleep watching beside matt, he felt a familiar yearning in his chest. now had to be the time. he was done psyching himself out of words like he had the past week now.

standing from his spot, careful not to wake the sleeping toddler, matt practically tip-toed over to your bedroom. your head snapped up when you heard the three soft knocks on your door frame, assuming it was matt getting ready to tell you he was heading home for the night, like had become recent routine. matt then cleared his throat, shoving his hands in his pockets in a brief moment of silence. "you're gonna have to tell me what's wrong eventually, " he finally spoke up, heart pounding in his eardrums like they never had before.

"what?" was your immediate reply, playing dumb as your deadpan facial expression remained unwavering.

matt's eyebrows immediately furrowed, knowing you were just playing games with him now. he couldn't be too upset though, or else he'd never get to the bottom of all your weird behavior. "baby, is it something i did?" he questioned, completely disregarding your clueless act, "we can talk this through; we always do. you just have to tell me what's wrong."

the way you looked at him - like he were some sort of lunatic standing in front of you - he couldn't say it didn't hurt. always being 'mr. fix it' was getting exhausting, and for probably the first time since he met you, matt began to wonder if it was all really worth it. all the games you played, tugging at his heart strings and using your guys' child to manipulate him... there had to be something more out there, right? was driving him crazy fun for you?

a clear desperation wrote itself all over matt's face, his expression as he stood so timidly in your doorway making you want to crawl out of your skin. “matt…” you trailed off, shifting your seated position in your bed.

“what?” he replies, voice coming out in an almost whine-like manner. he felt this insatiable sense of dread wash over him, like he somehow knew what you were going to say before you even said it.

but when you remained silent, he just couldn’t take it anymore. “y- y’know what, forget i even said anything,” he finally breathed out, an empty feeling at the idea of giving up so easily — there was nothing else he could do, though. he knew how you were: if you didn’t want to talk, you simply weren’t going to. that’s what he told himself.

and he began to turn away, one hand clinging to your doorframe as if it were telling him he needed to stay. “matt, come sit.”

he stopped in his tracks, ears practically perking up at the sentence. his head instantly snapped in your direction, bright blue eyes widened in surprise when they caught you patting the empty space of your bed in front if you. he almost didn’t believe it, all the negative emotions that had once rushed through him in painful waves seeming to instantly subside as a glimmer of hope fluttered in his chest.

maybe that was stupid of him, but this was a real step for you two. a big one, he was sure of it. he wasted no time in taking a few steps across the room to reach you, carefully sitting in front of you. watching as matt bit the inside of his cheek in anticipation, a nervous habit he’s had all the time you’ve known him, you took a deep breath to prepare yourself.

matt was so ready. he needed to know what was wrong, eyes eagerly scanning your face at the idea of you finally opening up to him after all this time. “you know you’re a great dad, right?” you muttered, your words much different than what he’d expected.

that caught him off guard, a small twitch in his features telling you he was a bit confused. he wasn’t sure what mazzy had to do with any of this. you two were co-parenting just fine, always have been, whether you were on good terms or not. but he kept quiet, silently urging you to explain yourself.

“and you’re so loving–full of emotions that…” you paused, trying to think of the right words.

somehow, matt was catching on, no longer so pleased with the idea of you ‘opening up’ to him anymore. it was like you’d taken him on a roller coaster he didn’t sign up to ride, and he hated that. “…that i can’t handle.”

right, he knew that. matt knew you were never fond of his big emotions, always telling him he can be too much at times. and he understood. he never wanted to put whatever he was feeling onto you. he wasn’t, though; he knew he wasn’t. so what’s all this about?

it took a moment for matt to think up a response, sighing a bit before he cleared his throat. “i don’t get what that has to do with you acting all weird. i’ve only been trying to keep us together… as a family,” he opposes, shrugging a bit to seem less caught up about this than he actually was.

too quick for matt’s comfort, you nodded, a small hum following. “does that apply to the sex, too?”

almost taken aback, his mouth opened as if he were ready to say something, but nothing came out. “you suck at no strings attached, matthew. i know what you’re thinking every time you come around,” you added, each word like a barbed blade stabbing at an open wound. was this too cruel? no, it couldn’t be—you were only telling him the truth, and god, did he need to hear it. “you think that whenever we’re sleeping together, we’re on ‘good terms’, like it’s grounds for fixing everything and becoming one happy family where your daughter’s parents are happily in love.”

you had him there and he knew it, but for you to just sit and tell him all his efforts are for nothing so easily? he knew there had to be something more to it. you weren’t telling him something. “but when we’re not-”

“it doesn’t work that way. now go home, matt”

and don’t ever say matt was in denial because he’s not… at least, that’s what he told himself as he did the walk of shame from your apartment to his car, that nagging feeling of yearning he’d felt earlier somehow worse now.

w/c : 1.1k

a/n : there will be no part two

-love, your grandma cvnty ☆!

[starrysan]

killin it

masterlist

pairing: biker!wooyoung x baker! fem!reader

warnings/prerequisites: enemies to lovers, swearing, yn almost gets killed by wooyoung's bike??, yeosang, mingi, and jun cameo, not proofread 😓

a/n: this idea came to me after consistently almost getting hit by bikes that don't obey any traffic laws..! title is a p1harmony ref

[2.3k words]

3rd person pov

after a long shift at her horribly paying bakery job, y/n was waiting at the crosswalk for the light to change, a batch of cupcakes in hand. as it changes to the walk signal she starts to walk she had just gotten yelled at by her boss and was already having a bad day when she hears a motorcycle revving up and quickly turns to the side.

before she knew it a bike was about to hit her. "holy shit!" she exclaims as the bike comes to a stop. "watch where you're going" the mystery person says behind his helmet.

"watch where im going?! watch where you're going!" y/n yells back. the cyclist takes his helmet off to reveal the guy she had been arguing with. "if you were paying attention this wouldn't have happened" wooyoung tries passing the blame which of course failed miserably.

"me? can you not see its a red light for you?" y/n practically yells. "pfft who looks at those anyway?" wooyoung chuckles. "you're unbelievable." y/n says angrily crossing the street and continuing on with her day.

she walks into her apartment frustrated on the phone with her best friend yeosang. "he almost fucking hit me then tried to blame me" she groans into the phone. a faint 'that's horrible' from yeosang comes through the phone as she goes to press the elevator button and who was waiting for it as well. "..sangie let me call you back" she says, hanging up the phone before yeosang could say goodbye. "talking about me so soon?" wooyoung says almost cockily.

why does he live here? since when does he live here? y/n thought to themselves but wooyoung breaks her out of her thoughts first. "what? you've really never seen me around?" wooyoung rolls his eyes. "no?" y/n scoffs. "why would I want to know that a killer lives in our building?" she replies. "a killer?" wooyoung looks at her dumbfounded. "my bike didn't even touch you"

"yeah because I yelled at you" y/n says exasperated. "yeah well-" wooyoung starts. "can you two argue some place else?" jun, the building's doorman asks a bit annoyed. "sorry jun" the two say in unison. they get into the elevator standing in opposite corners. y/n goes to press her floor, wooyoung going at the same time and their hands graze each other as the two practically jump backwards.

y/n presses the 10th floor as wooyoung presses the eleventh. "great you live right above me" y/n sighs, getting off the elevator. she quickly walks to her apartment not wanting to engage with him anymore.

it was a quarter past midnight and y/n was trying out a new recipe when all she could hear was this loud banging and music from upstairs. she groans throwing her apron on the couch and heading upstairs as she pounds on the door. her upstairs neighbor mingi opens the door.

"mingi can you keep it down? its late and I can hear you through the walls" y/n asks softly. "oh shoot sorry y/n" mingi says genuinely apologetically, the two having known each other for a while just through being floor neighbors.

"thanks" she says, as she's about to walk away, she spots a familiar face in the crowd. "mingi how do you know that guy?" y/n asks right before mingi closed his door. "oh him? he's my new roommate he just moved in last week name's wooyoung." mingi replies before telling someone to lower the music. "ah" was all y/n said before wooyoung spots her and comes to the door.

"oh perfect, y/n this is-" mingi starts. "don't worry mingi.. we've met" y/n sighs. "y/n? nice to put a name to the face" wooyoung says. "yeah I think this is my cue to leave. goodnight mingi" y/n waves heading to the elevator.

"what about me?" wooyoung questions. "why would I say goodbye to a killer?" y/n asks not even turning to face wooyoung. "I didn't-" before wooyoung could say anything y/n enters the elevator closing the door behind her.

"what was that about?" mingi asked, closing his apartment door and heading back inside to the ruckus (as y/n called it) he called a party. "this morning I might've.. almost hit her with my bike?" wooyoung confesses.

"and you apologized right?" mingi questions but asks again from the lack of response from wooyoung. "..right woo..?" he asks. "okay so what if I said no.." in a matter of seconds mingi sent wooyoung down to y/n's door because according to him "it was easier to apologize than have y/n as your enemy"

he knocks quietly on the door hoping she'd be asleep and as he started to walk away the door swings open to reveal a man who was certainly not y/n. "can I help you?" the man asks. "..is y/n home" he asks almost nervously. "y/n!" he calls from inside the apartment. "some guys here to see you" he says stepping a bit to the side. "come in? I guess?"

"who is it sangie.. oh" y/n stops dead in her tracks. "what?" she sighs. she had an apron on with cats all over it, flour on her face and getting in her hair. "uh.. mingi told me to come apologize so-" he gets cut off. "mingi told you to apologize? so you're not actually here to apologize you're just here because your roommate told you to" she raises an eyebrow.

"I mean when you put it that way-" before he knew it he was standing outside as y/n shut the door on his face. "so much for that" he says before walking back upstairs. "how'd it go?" mingi asked, the party over now as he picked up plastic cups from the floor. "she slammed the door in my face" wooyoung sighed.

"yeesh yeah she's tough to get through but once you do she's really sweet." mingi says, getting a bag of garbage together. "are you sure that's not just her nice twin that you talked to or something?" wooyoung sighs. "does she bake? I saw her wearing an apron."

"yeah she works at the bakery down the street" mingi replies finishing up the last of the clean up. "what am I supposed to do?" wooyoung asks. "to get y/n to like you?" to which wooyoung nods. "get lucky?" mingi says honestly. "how'd you get her to like you? you cant be her favorite with these loud parties."

"oh I bribed her." mingi says nonchalantly. "did you see the baby blue kitchen aid mixer in her room? I bought that for her for Christmas. I know my parties are loud and I know she likes baking and that her job dosent pay well so I got her the mixer and now she's chill about the parties." mingi continues. "after that we would say hi to each other in the halls and now we're friends. she comes over to coffee every once and a while and she brings me dessert" mingi nods with a smile. "I see.." wooyoung says finally.

the next day wooyoung was hard at work in the kitchen there were boxes of cake mix on the counter as well as all the mixing bowls they owned. he worked hard trying to make the best cake to win y/n's forgiveness. he finished the cake off by adding pink icing and using the piping bag to write 'sorry' sloppily on the cake.

the next evening he heads to y/n's apartment knocking on her door. y/n on the other end looks through the peephole. "yes?" she says through the door. "i.. bear cake?" wooyoung says, to which y/n bursts out laughing and opens the door. "sorry.. for almost killing you? then being an asshole about it after" wooyoung says holding out the cake.

"I accept your apology.. wanna come in?" y/n offers, opening the door. wooyoung steps inside taking his shoes off and hanging y/n the cake. the two sit at the table and eat the cake. "cake is great your decorating could use some work" y/n hums, a fork in hand.

"I tried my best with what I had" wooyoung sulks. "mingi dosent have a kitchen aid like the one he got you he just has a whisk I whisked this whole thing by hand" he continues with a frown. "then I guess its alright" y/n giggles.

the two talk till it gets to dinner time. "want to stay? yeosang is bringing Chinese food I can ask him to get more. invite mingi too" y/n hums scrolling on her phone. "I don't want to intrude" wooyoung says. "you're not intruding we're neighbors aren't we?" y/n smiles.

yeosang arrives with the food, mingi arriving short after and the four eat together. "so you two made up?" yeosang asks, eating his orange chicken to which y/n nods her mouth full of noodles. "he apologized with a cake" y/n points to the cake left sitting on the table. "I see" yeosang laughs in response.

after a while mingi and wooyoung go back to their room. "so.. are yeosang and y/n dating? what's up with them" wooyoung asks for no reason (lies). "them? not that im aware of they're friends" mingi replies. "why?" mingi asks with a brow raised. "just curious" wooyoung hums. "alright.." mingi says suspiciously.

after a while, wooyoung and y/n had gotten closer. the four would have dinner together when they could, y/n brings over desserts when there was extra at the bakery. "if the bakery pays so bad why do you still work there?" wooyoung asked as the four had sat down to have their monthly movie night.

"it pays shit but it pays" y/n replies grabbing the bag of popcorn from the microwave and pouring it into a bowl. "then what do you want to do?" wooyoung questions. y/n thinks for a bit. "I want to open my own bakery" she says finally. "y/n's sweets? that's probably what I'd call it" she nods. "why don't you?" wooyoung asks "with what money? my $12 an hour?" wooyoung hums and looks like he's thinking as yeosang starts the movie.

wooyoung, y/n, and yeosang were hanging out in y/n and yeosang's place while mingi was at work when y/n excused herself to the bathroom. "you like her don't you?" yeosang asks as the bathroom door clicks shut. "what're you talking about" wooyoung says not at all convincing. "we all know" yeosang hums snacking on the cupcakes y/n had made.

"maybe I do.. but I doubt she likes me bac-" yeosang interrupts him. "you two are so dense. its like we all know but you two. she talks about you all the time I was starting to get sick of it if im being honest" yeosang sighs. "really?" wooyoung asks in disbelief. "even the first day you guys met she was talking about how hot you were." yeosang says thinking about the phone call they had.

flashback to a month ago: "he's so hot its a shame he almost fucking hit me then tried to blame me" y/n groans into the phone. a faint 'that's horrible' from yeosang comes through the phone.

"she said that?" wooyoung says in almost shock. "yes" yeosang says exasperated as the bathroom door swings open and the two immediately shut up. "why're you two acting suspicious?" y/n says. "no we're not" the two say in sync y/n decides to let it go.

wooyoung and y/n were alone now, yeosang "having some fashion emergency and leaving the apartment". "so what were you two talking about?" y/n asks slightly cuddling into wooyoung's arm. "nothi-" y/n sighs loudly. "I know it wasn't nothing" y/n argues. "if I tell you, you have to promise not to make fun of me" wooyoung says. "why would I-"

"I like you y/n" wooyoung blurts out. "you.. wait really?" she says in surprise. "yeosang was just telling me that he knows and mingi knows" as he finishes his sentence y/n leans over to him pressing her lips onto wooyoungs as he gasps. "shit sorry" y/n says pulling back quickly, but before she could get too far, wooyoung pulls her back into another kiss. "thank god" y/n mutters into the kiss. "for what?" wooyoung hums. "that you also like me back duh" y/n sasses which gets a laugh out of wooyoung.

some time later wooyoung was leading y/n to.. somewhere. y/n didn't know she had a blindfold on. "woo are we there yet?" y/n says impatiently. "almosttt" wooyoung smiles. "okay ready?" wooyoung says taking y/n's blindfold off. "open your eyes!" as y/n blinks her eyes open she witnesses what wooyoung had been tirelessly working on for the past couple months. it was a building decorated with the prettiest things. the sign read 'y/n's sweets' y/n gasps.

"you didn't.." she says in disbelief. "I did" wooyoung smiles. "you're unbelievable how'd you pull this off?" y/n says still in awe at the building infront of her. "I think I might die of shock" y/n says. "don't die who will I kiss if you do?" y/n rolls her eyes, pecking him on the lips as he hands her the keys. "shall we head inside?" wooyoung asks to which y/n nods.

"help me bake?" y/n asks as she starts up the ovens. "am I getting promoted to baker" wooyoung grins. "as long as you learn how to ice cake properly then yes" y/n giggles. wooyoung starts icing the cake. "how am I doing.."

"you're killin it" y/n replies kissing his cheek.

tysm for reading! if you have any requests pls send them my way!!

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permanent written fics taglist: @yvnhoos @linearities @kattarrynnka @dalsuwaha @coffeewwithdrawlheadaches @wonderz-real @xh01bri @sparda1234 @crownj1min @spenceatiny18

[27spoons]

Feeling Myself | Natalie Scatorccio

summary: Your best friend's been ignoring you since you hooked up a few days ago. Determined to speak with her again, you decide to visit her in the changing rooms after a soccer game. What's the worst that happens?

pairing: natalie scatorccio x fem!reader

warnings: porn/what plot, smut (afab!reader), slightly ooc nat (in the name of porn), no proofreading we die like jackie

a/n: this shit corny asf LMAOOOO (this is a "what-if" from part two.) (also see: i had a thought while writing part two. this is 90% smut.) (this is also 10x as crude as the previous smut I've done sorry not sorry)

wc: 3430

[you don't need to read either part to read this.]

part one / part two

A quick recap of the events that took place the past week.

You slept with your best friend at a party. Your best friend who happens to be knee-deep in denial when it comes to her sexuality. She's been avoiding you like the plague since then. You've just finished watching her play a soccer game, and now you're awkwardly standing outside the locker rooms.

Great. Recap over.

Okay, thirty minutes is overkill, especially for Nat, who typically likes getting in and out as fast as possible. Sure, maybe you'd spend thirty minutes in a shower at home, but in a public place? With the floors that definitely have bacteria on them that could kill a Victorian child?

That's practically a carnal sin.

You aren't sure why you're steeling yourself; I mean… odds are she just left through the other entrance, right? And it's not like you aren't allowed in this change room, it's just the general change room for the school facilities…

Whatever.

You stand up straight and throw the door open to the changing room, not that surprised to find it completely empty—save for the sound of a shower running in the back of the space. Realistically, if it is Nat, you should probably let her finish her shower. You don't really know where the two of you stand right now, and intruding on a shower hardly seems like a good time to find out. And, if it isn't Nat, intruding on a shower would be a really, really bad idea.

Still, you decide to investigate further. 

Quietly making your way toward the shower stalls, you glance around and look for anything that could give you an idea about whoever it is, showering and praying to whatever God there is that it's Nat and not some random stranger. 

When you reach the benches in front of the stalls, you let out a relieved breath you didn't even realise you were holding—you'd recognize those combat boots anywhere.

Is confronting her while she's in the shower the most intelligent idea? No. But honestly? You're more than a little frustrated and pretty sure that she'll continue to avoid you unless you do something now.

So, you do the mature thing, much like she did.

You storm to the front of the stall and bang on the door, "Natalie?!" You call out, voice slightly shaky at the idea that it might not be her after all. 

A long, tense moment of silence passes after you speak, save for the sound of water hitting the tiles below. You start to panic, worrying that you really did just knock on a stranger's shower stall, scaring the everliving shit out of—

"Are you fucking kidding me?" A voice, unmistakenly belonging to a certain Natalie Scatorccio, rings out over the sounds of the shower, "You couldn't fucking… wait until I wasn't fucking showering?!"

"You've been avoiding me!" You yell back, "What the fuck was I supposed to do? You haven't been showing up to class, you've been avoiding my calls… I mean, what the fuck was I supposed to do?"

"I don't know!" She yells back, "Maybe wait for me to come to you when I'm ready to talk, ideally not when I'm in the fucking shower?!"

"Yeah, well…" You mutter, realising that… yeah… maybe this wasn't the best time, but you're already here! There's no backing down now! "That's not the point!" You eventually continue, "Why have you been avoiding me since Friday night?"

She doesn't respond for a long moment.

"Well?" You scoff, calling over the water, "Natalie? Are you gonna answer me—"

The stall door flings open, revealing a very naked and very wet Natalie Scatorccio.

Your jaw drops. Sure, you saw her naked during the night of the party, but this is much different. She looks very upset with your sudden appearance, and for a moment, when she draws her hand back, you worry she's about to clock you in the jaw. And, honestly? You'd probably deserve it.

What you aren't expecting, however, is her to grab the back of your head and mash your lips against hers, all tongue and teeth.

It's only a moment's hesitation before you return the kiss, and she's drawing you back into the shower stall. "We better be alone," Natalie murmurs, tugging your hoodie off and over your head as it begins to soak through. "I'm not about to have one of the girls walk in on this." 

"No, uh, yeah, we're alone." You stammer out, kicking off your shoes and pants, "I wouldn't have caused a scene if there were still people in here—"

"Good." Nat breathes out as she tugs you into the shower's spray, despite the fact you haven't even gotten the chance to remove your underwear yet. "Because I haven't been able to stop thinking about this." And her lips are back against yours, free hand immediately moving to find purchase between your thighs, fingers rubbing you through the damp fabric. (Which, you'll note, is now damp for more than one reason.) 

"Holy fuck—" A shaky exhale parts from your lips, your head falling back to hit the shower wall, one hand attempting to find some sort of grip on the wall while the other grasps uselessly at her wrist, "Jesus Christ, what the hell happened to you in the time we weren't talking?" You ask breathlessly, hips pushing into her hand.

"I spent a lot of time thinking about this." She murmurs, fingers pushing the soaked fabric aside and pushing two fingers through your slick folds, teasing the length of your slit for a few moments before she quickly sinks two fingers into the wet heat at the apex of your thighs.

"F-fuck—" A full-body shiver rakes through your form as your back arches off the wall, a shocked gasp leaving your lips once she starts fucking her fingers into you with reckless abandon. "Jesus Christ—" "You seem to be saying his name a lot. Last I checked, it's my fingers inside of you and not his." She says with a smug grin, resting her free hand on the wall next to your head. "Unless you got really religious in the past few days."

"Asshole." You grunt out, nails digging into her wrist as you desperately roll your hips against her hand, "You are knuckle deep inside me, and I'm not about to just start saying your full name—"

"No." She cuts you off, "But you could just say Natalie."

"That's not—" She cuts you off when she stretches you further with a third finger, and you're almost positive her wrist has to be cramping with the angle it's at, but she shows zero signs of stopping or slowing down. "—the point—" You stammer out, eyes screwing shut as squelching sounds from her fingers fucking your pussy manage just to be loud enough to be heard over the rush of water beating against the porcelain.  

"No, you're right. The point is that you shouldn't be thinking of anyone else while I'm the one inside of you."

If there was something you expected Nat to say, that was not it, but you can't help the way you clench around her fingers at the comment.

"Oh, shit." A low laugh spills from her throat, "You like that, huh? When I'm all possessive? Didn't realise you'd be into that sorta stuff."

"Fuck off." You mutter, "I've never heard you get possessive before. It's kinda hot."

"Yeah? Guess I'll have to keep that in mind." Her palm grinds hard into your clit as her fingers brush against that spot inside of you that has your hips bucking and losing the rhythm you had found. "Oh. That was a fun spot." Nat murmurs to herself, "I liked that. Let's do it again."

So, she does. She presses her fingers right against that spot with every flick of her wrist, and you can't help but wonder how the fuck she became so damn good at this when at times, it felt like she barely had two brain cells to rub together that night of the party—

Shit, you didn't even notice the fact she was trailing her lips along the hollow of your throat, tongue collecting the water that streams down your body from your face. "Nat—" You gasp when you feel her teeth bite at your jaw, "Shit—"

"Mm, yeah." You can feel her grin against your throat, "See? Knew you had it in you to say my name. Just needed some gentle encouragement, is all."

You can't even form coherent thoughts at this point. You aren't sure what turns you on more: doing this in a public place where anyone could walk in and hear the deplorable things currently transpiring, the fact that Nat seems to be eager to have you like this, the way her lips trace along your neck reverently, or her completely making you forget the whole reason you walked into the changing rooms to begin with.

Nat spends some time alternating between the stretch of three fingers and the ruthless pace of two, occasionally completely retracting her fingers in favour of circling your clit with the pads of her index and middle before sinking them back in.

"You, fuck, I'm close." You stammer out the next time she sinks her fingers back into the tight heat, "Don't fucking stop—"

She shakes her head against your neck, "Not stopping." A shaky exhale, and you start to feel her hips rolling against your thigh, "Not stopping until I feel you fucking come around my fingers."

Your eyes roll back into your head at the words that fall from her lips, and you find yourself gripping her arm again for support. "Oh, holy fuck, Natalie—"

With a stuttering movement of your hips against the heel of her palm, you find yourself crashing into a climax that you were not expecting to get right in the fucking changing rooms.

And, despite how you clench around her fingers and your knees buckle slightly, Nat doesn't even stop. Not for half a second. The crude sounds of her fingers fucking your spasming pussy at breakneck speed don't slow, and your head thrashes back and forth against the wall, "Nat, fuck, wait—"

"No." She hisses into the side of your neck, biting at the skin, "I'm not done yet."

Thank causes a broken groan to slip from your lips as her fingers press against that one spot over and over again to the point the edges of your vision start to turn fuzzy amid the ecstasy. "F-fuck, I just came—"

"I know." She growls out, fingers seemingly plunging in deeper to your tight heat with every thrust of her wrist, "And I want you to come again."

"Oh." You exhale, eyes screwing shut again, "Oh…"

Nat grins at your breathless sounds, "Yeah, baby. Like that." Three fingers, "Fuck, love how tight you feel around my fingers. How fucking wet you are for me." "We're, ah, in a shower. Of course, I'm wet—"

She bites down on your neck particularly harshly at your words, "Shut up. You know that isn't what I fucking meant."

"N-no, but it's funny—"

You barely even register it when Nat drops to her knees before you, bringing one of your legs over her shoulder, "God, shut up."

And, well, you don't get a chance to speak again before she's burying her face against your heat, fingers continuing in their harsh movements as her tongue attaches itself to your clit, swirling around and sucking at the nub.

One of your hands immediately finds itself tangled in her blonde hair, the other trying to hold your body up against the stall wall behind you, which proves… to be a hard enough task on its own, given that the walls are slick with water and smooth.

"Oh, fuck—" You hiss out, tugging slightly on her hair, "Shit, give me a second—"

Nat doesn't. She doesn't stop or slow, either. Hell, she doesn't even humour you with a response, just choosing to focus on her task at hand: making you come again.

It's slightly embarrassing how quickly you're right back on the precipice of an orgasm. You'd probably be mortified if you could form thoughts other than "yes" and "please."

You swear you can feel the way Nat smirks against you as she wraps her lips around your clit, creating a suction that has a full-body shudder raking through you and—

…

Even Nat has to stop for half a second when she feels you come again, less than a minute after the first one. "Fuck." She breathes out, looking up at you with her jaw slightly slack, fingers still buried inside of you. "Did you just…?"

Realistically, you could lie. But you get the feeling this is a hypothetical question.

"I… I told you I needed a second…" Comes your stammered response, "That's… I'm not… I don't… it's just…"

A dark chuckle leaves Nat's mouth as she removes your leg from her shoulder, ensuring you can stand properly before she rises back to her feet, "Mmn, I'm not mad. If anything, it's kinda flattering."

You scowl slightly at her, "What-whatever." 

You decide it's her turn, now. 

As fast as you can move without slipping on the tile, you pin Natalie to the wall in your place, lips finding her neck, tracing up the path of a water droplet with your tongue, then further up still until your lips are back on hers.

One of Nat's hands comes to rest on your shoulder, the other tangling itself into your hair as your kiss grows more and more heated. Although it's a little tricky to do with the slick walls, you spread her thighs slightly and press your knee up between them, encouraging her to grind down onto your leg. It's your turn to smirk now, finding some sort of pleasure in the way she immediately presses her pussy against you, hips rocking with urgency.

"Yeah," You grunt against her lips, "like that. Keep doing that." The blonde whimpers back, grinding herself faster, "Please." She breathes out, "I need more."

"What?" You chuckle, "Sorry, I didn't get that. Mind saying that again?"

She slaps your shoulder, "Stop being such a fucking tease, asshole. What do you want me to say? That I want your fingers inside of me?"

You grin, "Yeah. That works, actually." One of your hands runs down the flat of her stomach, two fingers run across her folds, not quite delving into the warmth between them. "But the begging is a little hot."

"I'm not going to beg." She immediately answers, "If you aren't gonna fuck me, I'll find someone else to do it."

Your jaw tenses immediately at the comment, and you aren't quite sure if it's jealousy or something else, but the very idea of that pisses you off to no end. "No the fuck you aren't." You hiss out, sinking your index and middle finger into her cunt without another word, earning you a keening sound. "I'm the only person doing this to you tonight."

"God, yes." She almost moans out the words, "Harder."

A scoff, but you oblige her anyway, turning two fingers to three and fucking them into her faster, grinding your palm into her as the digits move, and Nat doesn't think she's ever been more grateful for someone with long fingers.

She presses her tongue back against yours, using the hand that's tangled in your hair to guide your mouth where she wants it—against hers.

The press of your lips against yours makes the movements of your hand slow momentarily, but you quickly recover your speed when Nat tugs at the hair on the nape of your neck, reminding you that there's an end goal to this.

"Mm, my bad." You murmur, pressing a chaste kiss to the edge of her lips, "Your mouth is very distracting."

Nat rolls her eyes, "Yeah? Then maybe you should be somewhere it won't distract you." A half-grin twitches itself onto her lips, and the hand on your shoulder presses down, "On your knees, ideally."

"Just say you want me to eat you out." You lower yourself onto one knee, "Saying what you want is hot." Nat grins down at you and runs her fingers through your hair as you get down on your other knee, "Don't need to say what I want. You're already doing it."

You roll your eyes at her as you press some gentle kisses to her inner thighs, humming when she parts them for you. "Maybe." A small nip to the soft skin, "But I do enjoy you telling me what to do."

"Oh, yeah? What, you into being dominated?" She laughs lowly, "Interesting. I'll have to keep that in mind."

"You say that like you plan on doing this again." You take one of her legs and hoist it over your shoulder, pausing a beat, then taking the other leg and repeating the motion. "Do you plan on doing this again?" Nat gasps when you have her sit on your shoulders, fingers tightening in your hair, "Fuck, you keep pulling shit like this, and I just might keep doing it."

A grin graces your lips, "That so? Guess I'll have to keep you coming back." A chaste kiss to her clit, then you're delving your tongue into her cunt, greedily slurping at the wetness that's collected between her legs. 

Your fingers dig into the meat of her thighs, holding her against your face, encouraging her to squeeze your head like a goddamn watermelon. You could, quite honestly, die happy with your head where it is right now.

Nat is rolling her hips against your face, your nose brushing against her clit as your face remains buried in her pussy, obscene sounds echoing against the walls, and you aren't even sure when the shower clicked off, but you are aware that it makes the two of you much more audible.

You'd pull your head back to tell her or move one of your hands to swat at the button to turn the water back on, but you get the feeling she could care less how audible what's transpiring between the two of you is.

So, you try to put that into the back of your mind, letting the sounds of your mouth against her and Nat's broken gasps act as fuel for the way you fuck her with your tongue. 

It's a handful of minutes before her breathing becomes more stuttered, her grip on your hair starts to hurt slightly, and you don't think she would let you up for air if your face were literally turning blue, but that's okay.

In fact, it's more than okay, considering you feel her pussy pulsate around your tongue as a whimpering moan breaks from her throat, hips continuing to rock against your face for a few more seconds before ceasing. 

"Fuck." Her fingers run through your hair, as if serving an apology for the way she was tugging on it. "You're fucking good at that." You shoot a lazy grin up at her through between her thighs, which were effectively acting as earmuffs. "I aim to please. Happy that my goal was met."

Her head falls back against the wall as she laughs, "Yeah. Now, put me down."

"Mm, sure you can stand?" You tease, nipping at her thigh again.

"Positive, asshole." She rolls her eyes fondly, "Let me off."

A dramatic sigh parts from your lips, but you relent and help her get her feet back on the ground, "Fine, fine." You stand back at your full height, looking down at her slightly as you lean against the wall, "But I really wasn't done yet."

"Yeah, well, I was. I'm not in the mood to get caught by someone in here." She shoves your shoulder, causing you to take a step away from her. "We both got off."

You click your tongue, "Seriously? C'mon. Don't be like that…"

"We can get off more later."

"Oh?" You quirk an eyebrow, "That mean I'm coming back to your dorm?"

"Well. That was fun." Nat ignores the question, pushing off the wall and hitting the shower button again. "Now. I need to finish showering. You staying or leaving?"

You scoff, "Staying, I guess." You spare a glance down at your soaked clothes, "Gonna be soaked the whole walk home, anyway. Not in the mood for that walk."

She laughs deliciously, "Oh, trust me; if I have anything to say about it? You'll be soaked at home, too."

A beat. "And you said my dirty talk was terrible."

a/n: ok NOW crush act two part one next fr fr

[utilitycaster]

Hi!

Outside of the obvious issues within the Campaign, One point i haven't seen talked about was how 4sD wasn't really a good way to find out why characters did certain thing or thought a certain way, the what the fuck is up with that section was the closest because the players and Dani would talk and ask eachother, though i believe that they also do that outside of the game, or talked about it on cooldown, but the questions selected for the tower of the deep dive often leaned into a fanfic-y narratives (mostly Tower, but sure i guess we need to know what their favourite ice cream flavors would be, for fun i guess)

I think cooldown is the closest to what i would have rather liked from 4sD but that's behind a paywall.

Do you think the format affected the way the audience engaged with the characters? or would it be like with Molly in C2 where Tal said that he was absolutely not a good guy but the critters insisted he was just misunderstood and actually a saint (hyperbole)

Hi anon,

4SD definitely impacted how people engaged with the characters, but if it hadn't existed the sort of person who cherrypicks out of context lines from 4SD would have just made things up whole cloth to support whatever they wanted a la Campaign 2. I also don't think 4SD is like, a problem. I agree there were flaws in the format, but also...I didn't ever watch Talks for Vox Machina (I did for Campaign 2 but as I binge-watched C1 I didn't have time and I didn't bother) and I understood the story just fine. I think that if you need a talkback shows to understand a character's motivations, either that is a flaw of the text for not showing them, or you are a stupid person. A great example is Bowlgate: Talks addressed explicitly why this conflict happened, but if you had, perhaps, watched the show, you would already know that Caleb had issues with abuses of power and massive problems with trust that often manifested as control issues, and Beau had control issues from the opposite direction that were no less explained by her past, and they understandably clashed, and while I personally agreed with Beau's assessment here neither of them expressed themselves very well, and it was a great moment of conflict in a game where conflict is interesting, and I also at no point was like "oh my god Liam and Marisha hate each other" because I understand the concept of acting. I actually, as someone avoiding the fandom at the time but watching Talks each week, was stunned to hear this had even been a controversy when I tuned in.

I think there are two much bigger factors in how the fandom engages:

social media and especially algorithmic short-form social media creating echo chambers. Like, obviously I am biased but I think the reason why so many of the most rancid and incorrect opinions from this campaign are from Twitter and so many of the most rancid and incorrect people are as well is that on Twitter, saying buzzwords tends to get eyes on your post, and it's all very short so you don't have to explain yourself, and it's based on instant gratification and if you say something stupid in the past it's easier for people to move on because it's hard to find, whereas like, on Tumblr, people have longer memories and if someone doesn't explain themselves they can't point to a character limit. I think without like, Twitter, bowlgate would have been much smaller a phenomenon. I think a major flaw of 4SD is that they've addressed things brought up on Twitter that aren't even a controversy but are actually just incredibly fucking stupid (Relvin not saying the exact words "I love you" is the one I'm remembering off the top of my head but this has been a problem for a WHILE).

The biggest one: I have mentioned blorbo-centric morality and you alluded to how people thought Molly was a saint and I just think for whatever reason Campaign 3 attracted a MASSIVE number of people like that. 4SD doesn't even enter here; if it exists they'll use it but if not they'll again make shit up or cherry pick or misinterpret. The core of all C3 discourse, at this point, is that some people will defend literally anything Bells Hells do no matter what. This is why you are seeing people who insisted the gods were, as someone said, tall kings who needed to be dethroned (killed) and were colonizers and murderers suddenly pivot praising a plan that lets them live and oh how compassionate Bells Hells are. You got people who defended indecision on this topic earlier; who said there were no good options but were too squeamish to actually explore that if their are no good options their darling little angels will get their hands dirty no matter what. The No Agency crowd. It's utterly spineless and amoral; they will abandon whatever argument they had to pivot to the aimless whims of Bells Hells. So 4SD gives them more material in their endless pivoting but they'd do this anyway.

So the format was like, fun as a hangout show but not great as a talkback at times, but it really wasn't a major factor because idiots are gonna be stupid no matter what. With that said while there were things about 4SD I liked I kind of wish they could go back to a more Talks-esque format, obviously with like, a better host. I also think that it might be better to permit fan-submitted questions in real time and air the episodes a few months later, particularly since as mentioned the crew often asked questions from a while ago. I also think doing this as a big thing monthly might be easier on the schedule but meant that we heard a LOT from cast members who were frequently available even if if their characters weren't doing much that was interesting. I would ideally like to go to like, every other week, shorter and more casual, with fan-submissions through a web form collected during the week following an episode so that like. we wouldn't get Talkback Show For 119 for maybe a month but it would actually be about that.

[obiwansito]

the bombs were close

the great war - chapter two

read on ao3 ʚĭɞ series masterlist ʚĭɞ general masterlist

pairing- obi wan x f!reader

word count- 5.09k

summary- your worst fear had come true. grievous was attacking coruscant, and now you had to protect the planet you grew up in. and, finally, be able to reunite with your lover after many weeks.

tags for this chapter- battle descriptions, canon typical violence, tw: jedi council /hj, smut (+18 mdni), intrusive thoughts.

a/n- this (maybe) will be the only smut on the fic so enjoy it!!

You rushed into the Temple hangar, several Jedi were gathered and ready to fight. You pushed your way through the crowd, finding Master Windu and Master Saesee Tii, who were giving orders.

“Masters.” They noticed you. You were serious, your Jedi General mode on. You were ready to help defend the planet where you had been raised. “What about the Senate?”

“Each senator has their security team, and they are already being evacuated to safe locations. Master Ti was sent to guard the Chancellor, and Master Yoda and I will guard the outside of the Senate building.”

You nodded, and then Windu spoke your last name. “Your battalion was sent to secure the perimeter near the evacuation routes, droids are everywhere. Join them and reinforce them. May the force be with you.”

You headed towards your speeder, your comlink beeping. You answered immediately, you could guess who it was.

“General.” Your commander's voice sounded stressed. Gunfire could be heard clearly on the other end of the line.

“Forge. Send me the coordinates, I'm on my way.”

“Yes, sir.” You received the request seconds later, and were on your way, moving along the air roads of Coruscant that were currently empty due to the emergency. On the way, you encountered some Separatist ships heading straight for a building. Without thinking twice, you opened fire, aiming at the exact angle to explode the engines of the fighters.

You were not a better pilot than Anakin, but you could defend yourself very well.

As you shot down a few more ships, you managed to spot the 621st, your battalion. Countless droids were heading towards them, but your men could handle it. Not for nothing they were some of the best in the GAR.

You headed toward them, but a buzzing in the force made you realize you were being pursued. On your speeder screen, you saw three Separatist ships following you.

“Kriff.” You accelerated sharply, spinning between the skyscrapers to try to divert them. One of the ships tried to follow you, but failed and crashed, exploding in a shower of sparks and debris.

You tried to pass in the middle of two narrow buildings, hoping that one would crash or not enter, but you were unsuccessful. Both followed you, you could feel the lasers near the wings of your speeder.

You watched on the screen and noticed that one of the fighters was getting closer and closer. You took a deep breath and disengaged the engines all at once, letting your speeder glide without momentum, slowing down instantly. The fighter behind you flew past, surprised by your action. You reacted quickly and reactivated the engines to fire at it, destroying it before it could turn.

There was only one left.

You tried to increase speed, but it was too close. The enemy shots hit the back of your speeder, sending sparks flying from the control panel.

“No, no, no...” You mentally braced yourself for impact. You jumped out of your seat at the last second, your speeder crashing as you used the Force to soften your fall. You stretched out your arms and with a final thrust you landed, rolling gently on the ground before coming to a stop on your feet.

“Now I understand why Obi-wan hates flying.” You muttered, gently resting your hands on your belly. Now that you were pregnant, you couldn't afford to do as many Jedi acrobatics as you were used to. “I'm sorry, little one.” You apologized to your baby, even though it was ridiculous because they couldn't really hear you. Or maybe they could? You didn't know how Force-sensitive pregnancies worked.

Your seconds of peace were short lived, for the explosion had drawn the attention of a group of droids now approaching you. You took a deep breath, pulling your lightsabers from your belt and igniting them, their purple glow glowing through the smoke.

“A Jedi!” One of the droids exclaimed, all pointing at you. You closed your eyes, using the Force to shoot down the first arrivals. When they started firing, you managed to evade all of their attacks, moving into the crowd and destroying them with ease. After spending three years at war, droid fights were a piece of cake.

You smashed through several with your lightsabers, but most you could detect with your mind and you pushed them with the force, sending them flying away.

You were decapitating one when your comlink beeped. “General, where are you?”

“I had a... situation.” You sent another droid flying away, who was shouting something about just getting out of the factory and being too young to die. “It's almost under control, I'm on my way.”

“Good, we're waiting for you.”

Once you were done with the droids, you made your way to your battalion's position. Since you grew up on Coruscant, you knew the place well and could easily locate yourself.

You were behind a piece of rubble, the droids still didn't see you. You braced yourself and jumped using the force, landing right next to Forge, who was tearing apart a B-1.

“It's good to see you, Commander.”

“Ah, General. About time.” You smiled at him, dodging the enemy lasers, bouncing them back at themselves.

“It was a good break, wasn't it? Two weeks. You didn't miss me much?”

Forge rolled his eyes, tossing an electromagnetic grenade towards some droids, which fell to the ground electrocuted. “Actually, yes it was a good break. It lasted longer than we've ever had before. The boys didn't know what to do with so much time off.”

You smiled slightly, but before you could respond, a shudder in the Force stopped you. You looked to the side, and found one of your men, Map, surrounded by droids. He was doing fine on his own, but he was being surrounded.

Without hesitation, you extended your hand, pulling them toward you with the Force. In one swift motion, your lightsaber pierced through them, scattering fragments in every direction. As the final one fell, you looked up to the clone. “Are you alright, trooper?”

He nodded. “Thank you, General. I thought that would be the end of me.”

“Not while I'm here.”

You turned your attention back to the battlefield, making casual conversation with Forge. Fewer and fewer droids were arriving, and you would be able to go help somewhere else.

“So, where were you when all this started happening?”

The commander avoided making eye contact, focusing on shooting a droid. “Uh... In the barracks, with... the guys?”

You scoffed, shaking your head. Obi-wan was right, clones were very bad at lying. “You were with your little pantoran, weren't you?”

A few months ago, you had discovered that Forge was having a secret affair with Shen, a lady-in-waiting to Senator Riyo Chuchi. The two of them had met when you and he had been assigned as their guards during a mission.

He blushed, looking around nervously, as if verifying that no one had heard what you had just said. “I don't know what you're talking about, sir.”

“I hope you at least told her I said hi.”

He cleared his throat. “Why do you think Grievous is here, anyway?”

You rolled your eyes, laughing as you noticed his not-very-subtle way of changing the subject. “He's sending a lot of droids to the surface. It's almost like he wants to keep us busy. Like he wants to have a...” Shit. “A distraction.”

“But a distraction for what? What's so important here?”

And as the last droid fell, you both looked at each other, realizing how blind you'd been. “The Chancellor.”

You set aside the shock, immediately grabbing your comlink. “Master Windu, the Chancellor. Grievous wants the Chancellor.”

The Jedi's voice sounded somber and deeper than normal. “It is too late now.”

A massive ship loomed between the skies of Coruscant, and between the closing hatch, you could see it: The half-droid was laughing maniacally, as he held Chancellor Palpatine, who was looking at him with a frightened expression.

You hurried to the temple meeting room, Forge following close behind. As you entered, Master Windu and Master Yoda were standing around the Holo-table.

“What happened?” you asked approaching. “I thought Shaak Ti was with the Chancellor.”

“That's right. But Grievous managed to overpower her and took him away.” Windu exclaimed, who was folding his arms.

"In orbit, Grievous's ship remains. Strange, the situation is, but advantage of it, we can take." The grandmaster looked worried.

“I'll go.” You said decisively. “I can rescue Palpatine, I've faced the General several times.”

But before you could say more, Windu interrupted you. “Skywalker and Kenobi are on their way. They'll be in charge of rescuing him.”

You frowned. “Weren't they on Yerbana?”

“They were. But they have been warned and will be here by the end of the hour.”

“But... I'm sorry master, I don't understand.”

“You don't have to understand anything. That's what's going to be done, end of story.”

Then, you remembered something. “Wait. Didn't... they tell you?”

“What do you mean?”

“Last night, Ahsoka... I mean, former Padawan Tano called Admiral Yularen's ship. She said Maul had been found?”

Windu pinched the bridge of his nose, as if he didn't want to hear any more about it. “I guess Skywalker told you.”

You almost laughed. Obviously, Anakin had told you. Of course you didn't have a secret relationship with one of the council members. Oh, had you mentioned to them that you were pregnant?

The Master's voice snapped you out of your thoughts. “Obi-wan mentioned it to us, but we were in the middle of our problem here. We told them they should come as soon as possible.”

“But...”

He raised his voice, firm. “I hope you understand the gravity of the situation we're in here. The heart of the republic has been attacked and the Supreme Chancellor was kidnapped.”

You nodded. “I know.” You bit your tongue trying not to answer him, remembering your master's words. Don't fight with the Council....

“I'm glad you understand. If your commander doesn't need you, you can go back to your classes. The younglings are waiting.”

You sighed, reluctantly agreeing. You didn't mind taking care of the little ones, but you were capable of so much more. Only the Council didn't want to see it.

You bowed to the masters, leaving the room quietly with Forge behind you. Once you were in the hallway, you turned to look at him. “Are the boys all alright, are there many losses?”

“I'm glad to say no, General. Bones told me the wounded are already on their way to the infirmary.”

“Very good. Are you going home?”

He scoffed. “I wish I was. But I'm afraid there's paperwork waiting for me. And for you too, by the way.”

You rolled your eyes. “Oh, don't remind me. Anyways, don't stay late. I don't think your girl would like it...”

He blushed, ignoring what you said. “Good afternoon, General.” He gave you a military salute and left, leaving you alone in the halls of the Jedi Temple.

“All right children, now, can you tell me what we learned in class today?”

There was no answer. You frowned, the little ones were quite distracted today. You supposed that was normal, given the chaos of the morning.

You approached a zabrak boy, who was busily engaged in telling his friend something. The latter nudged him, causing him to quiet down and look at you intently. “Zaru, do you have something to share with the class?”

“Ehm, no, Master. Sorry.”

“Oh, but you seemed so focused. Don't you want to tell me?”

He blushed, but spoke almost mumbling. “I was telling Kelen about how Master Skywalker and Master Kenobi rescued the Chancellor. I overheard a knight telling his Padawan about it.” As he spoke, his voice became more excited. “Apparently, Master Skywalker defeated Count Dooku, and saved Master Kenobi! Grievous escaped, but they destroyed his ship! Isn't that amazing?”

You chuckled, patting him on the head. “Yes, dear. But you can save the gossip for later. We're in class right now.”

He nodded, pouting. “Yes, Master.”

Just then, the clock chimed, marking the end of the hour. You sighed. “You're saved, kids. You better come prepared next class.”

You watched as the younglings left the room one by one, but someone was missing. It was Kyla.

“Little one? Are you alright?” You kneeled down to stand at her level.

“Yes, master. It's just... I got a little scared. After this morning.”

“Oh, baby girl. It's okay, it's completely normal. But it's over now. Everything's fine now.”

That didn't seem to calm her down. “I know, but it's just... I shouldn't feel scared, right? We're Jedi.”

“We are, but we're also sentient beings. Being Jedi isn't about repressing your emotions, though many interpret it that way. It's about having control over them and not letting them rule you. Do you think I'm not scared when I go on dangerous missions? Maker, of course I am. But you don't have to let it get to you, little girl.”

She nodded, still lost in thought. “I agree, Master. It's just...” She sighed. “Sorry, I know I shouldn't think about the future. But what if my future master doesn't think like that?”

You felt a pang in your chest, and all the guilt you had been trying to banish from your thoughts automatically returned. Still, you smiled reassuringly at her. “Don't worry about it, little one. I'm sure your future master will guide you in the best way.”

You would had been able to do it.

“I trust you, master.”

You caressed her face, getting up. “Very well, my dear. Now, you should go. You don't want to miss dinner, do you?”

She giggled, waving goodbye and heading out the door. You were finally alone.

You grabbed your things, lost in thought.

On one hand, there was the matter of the younglings. Kyla's words echoed in your head. You could have guaranteed her a great future. But now it was impossible.

Memories of the morning's battle still haunted you. You were still upset with the Council, it hurt you that they didn't see you capable of helping in a mission of such importance, when you had shown them more than once how strong you were. And not only physically, but also mentally.

But all those bad thoughts dissipated when you remembered something. Obi-wan was home.

You had felt him earlier, his warm, comforting force mark lingering through the halls. Unfortunately, you hadn't had time to look for him, as you were in class, and you assumed he was busy meeting with the Council. He had probably spent hours there.

You thought of Anakin, he was also at home. If you knew him well, he was probably with Padmé. Your heart grew joyful, surely he already knew the good news. He would be so excited.

As you walked to your rooms, you nervously debated whether it was time to tell Obi-wan. It was already nighttime, surely he would come to see you. How complicated would it be to tell him, “Hey love, you know how we're at war and all, and that our organization doesn't allow us to have partners, but we still do it because we love each other, even though it's very complicated? Well, guess what?”

You sighed. Maybe you shouldn't kill yourself so much thinking about it, surely in the moment it would come naturally to you and everything would be fine.

When you arrived, you headed to your 'fresher to take a long shower. The day had been pretty heavy, but there was nothing that hot water wouldn't solve.

You put on your most comfortable robe, made yourself some tea and settled into your bed, your datapad at hand to finally report on some missions. You thought about meditating, but you were too tired and would probably end up falling asleep. Pregnancy was making you a little weak.

You were sending the report of one of the last missions you had before returning to Coruscant when you felt a warmth in the force. That recognizable mark that made you feel butterflies, as if you were still a teenager.

You held your breath, your gaze darting to the door, which someone was opening with your code.

Within seconds, Obi-wan Kenobi materialized in your room, smiling shyly at you and closing the door behind him.

“You're here.” You whispered, smiling at him like a fool. You were so sensitive, you felt like you were going to cry. But it was the first time you'd seen him face to face in weeks and shit, you'd missed him so much.

”Forgive me for not coming earlier.“ He took off his cloak, leaving it delicately on your desk chair, and walking over to your bed. “I was in meeting with the Council. There was a general report on the sieges, and we were going to report on the fight this morning, but Anakin never showed up.”

You chuckled at that, watching his every move. “Don't worry, I've been busy too... I can just now sit down to rest.”

He sat down next to you, and you set your datapad down on your nightstand, focusing all your attention on him. You ran a hand through his beard, always groomed. But you could notice he was starting to get some white hairs.

He had a few wrinkles, a product of the stress of war. Still, he looked incredibly handsome. You traced every mole, every mark on his face, as he looked up at you in admiration.

“I missed you so much.” You whispered.

“I missed you so much too, my darling.”

Unable to contain yourself any longer, you threw yourself into his arms, giving him a warm embrace. His familiar scent comforted you, made you forget all the troubles of your life and the galaxy. It was just you and him, forever.

He stroked your hair, his breathing calm. “Coming back to the Temple always makes me feel at peace... but more so since I'm with you.”

You laughed a little, pulling away and coming within inches of his lips. “Always so cheesy...”

“And you love it, dear.”

You kissed him, your stomach going crazy from feeling his lips for the first time in weeks. You were finally complete, your life was back and he was kissing you right now.

You climbed into his lap, his hands finding your waist and your arms wrapping around his neck. It wasn't a lustful kiss, but an intense, emotionally charged one. You had missed him so much.

You broke apart after a few minutes, gasping for air. His cheeks were flushed and his lips were swollen. You could never get tired of that sight.

He brushed a lock away from your face. “I missed this so much.”

You both chuckled, your hearts racing, like two teenagers in love.

Suddenly, a doubt returned to your mind. You became serious, but fiddled with his hair. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.” His thumbs caressed your waist, making your skin bristle.

“What happened with Ahsoka's call?”

Obi-wan tensed slightly. “Maul is on Mandalore. Anakin helped her with reinforcements, split up the 501st and sent Rex.”

That was a relief to you. So, there was indeed a chance of capturing him. But you could tell something else was affecting your boyfriend.

“I informed the Council.” He continued, his voice lower. “But with the siege here... I had no choice. I had to help.”

You could feel the guilt in Obi-wan's words. He always carried more than his fair share, and your heart broke for that. “She'll make it.” You told him reassuringly. “She's the best.”

He slowly denied, lowering his gaze. “It's too dangerous. I should have gone myself.” He closed his eyes. “I shouldn't have... left her alone.”

You took his face in your hands, forcing him to look at you. “Hey. Ahsoka will be fine.” Your voice was soft, but firm. “There is no more perfect person for this mission. She's very strong. You and Anakin trained her very well. She can do it.”

Obi-wan relaxed a little at your words, giving you a small smile. “You always know what to say to make me feel better.”

“It's not just to make you feel better, Obi-wan. It's the truth.”

He nodded, your hands relaxing in his hair. You were silent for a few minutes, until he said something. “There's... something else I need to tell you.”

You looked at him curiously. “I guess you heard, but... Dooku is dead.”

“Oh, so I did hear. Believe it or not, some younglings in my class were gossiping. News in the temple travels fast. They said Ani had saved your ass?”

“That may be true. But don't tell anyone I told you. I have a reputation to maintain.” You both laughed, before Obi-wan got serious again. “Anyways, that's not what I wanted to tell you. Since Dooku died, Grievous is the new leader of the Separatists.” You nodded. “The Council made it a priority to locate him.”

You analyzed his words for a moment, your breathing stopping as you realized what he meant. “So... the war could be over soon?”

He nodded, taking your hands in his. “That's right. When we capture Grievous, it will be the end of the Clone Wars.”

You looked at him dumbfounded. You knew the war would end at some point, but you didn't think so soon.

Suddenly, you saw the future with optimism. Maybe you could wait longer to tell Obi-wan about your pregnancy. You didn't want to worry him any more at this point.

Peace is so close, you didn't have to give him this burden now. For the first time in what seemed like a long time, you could see hope in his eyes. The secret could wait a little longer....

Obi-wan's calloused hand on your cheek snapped you out of your reverie. “Are you all right, my dear?”

“Yes. Just...” You chuckled. “I can't believe it. That's... wonderful news.”

You hugged him, your head lying on his chest, his big hands resting on your lower back.

Your hands slid down his chest. You felt his breath in your hair, slow and warm. His distinctive smell of wood and coffee comforted you.

“I still can't believe you're here.” You whispered, looking up at him. He smiled at you, his hand caressing your cheek gently.

“I dreamed of this when I was away.” His eyes looked at you with intensity. “Just you and me, alone after a long time.”

His words sent a shiver down your spine, licking your lips out of instinct. His gaze lowered to them, your breaths quickening.

You closed your eyes as he leaned in, pressing his lips together against yours in a passion-filled kiss. One of his hands cupped your cheek, while the other fiddled with your sleeping robe, caressing your soft skin over it.

Your hands merged with his hair, messing it up a bit as your tongues danced together, a soft sound coming from your lips.

He grabbed you around the waist with his large arms, laying you gently on the bed, and settling on top of you, careful not to crush you. Your legs wrapped around his hips, as he kissed you again with the same intensity as before.

“Oh, gods. I missed you so much.” You purred as his lips began to move down, leaving a trail of kisses down your cheeks, chin, neck. His calloused hands were now under your robe, caressing every inch of your waist.

You helped him remove his layers of Jedi robes, desperate for direct contact with each other's bodies. “This is always going to be my least favorite part.” He whispered, his hands shaking trying to remove all of his upper garments. You laughed, helping him until he was shirtless and pulled him in for another kiss.

His hands explored your entire torso, making you gasp as his thumbs ran over your sensitive nipples. He lifted you up a little to remove your sleeping robe, tossing it somewhere in your room. You were at his mercy, your panties the only thing stopping you from being completely exposed.

He took his time admiring you, licking his lips before returning to attack your neck with kisses and bites that you knew would leave a mark the next day. But at that moment nothing mattered. Just you and him, enjoying your first moment alone in a long time.

He slowly worked his way down, making sure not an inch of you was left unkissed. His lips wrapped around your breast, licking your nipple as he caressed the other with his hand.

You had your eyes closed, stroking his hair as you gasped, enjoying his attention. “I missed this so much...I missed you so much.”

As his lips continued their exploration of your body, he took your thighs in his large hands, spreading your legs, giving him a clear view of your private part covered by your panties, which had a spot in the middle because of how wet you were.

You felt small under his hungry gaze. He stroked the insides of your thighs, managing to send a shiver down your spine. He licked his lips, leaning down to kiss your covered clit. You moaned, desperate for more.

His thumb stroked you. “Love... Stop teasing...” You moaned.

That made him laugh. “Patience, darling. I want to enjoy this as long as possible.”

He kissed your thighs, caressed your whole body, except the part where you needed it most. “Please, Obi-wan. I need you.” You whimpered, trembling with the need for pleasure.

“If you ask me in that cute way...” He curled his fingers into the straps of your panties, pulling them off you and tossing them somewhere in your room.

Finally, you were completely exposed to him.

He started kissing your wet center, you felt his beard scrape your thighs, turning you on even more.

When he licked your clitoris, you moaned, trying to squirm, but you realized he was holding you with the force.

“Don't move, sweetheart.” You obeyed, little moans coming out of your mouth as you felt how well your boyfriend was treating you.

His tongue began to tease at your entrance, his nose brushing perfectly against your clit, enough to make you shudder. Your hand found his hair, stroking it as you begged him for more.

You tried to quiet your moans, but the skill with which Obi-wan was eating you out made it very difficult.

“Shhh, love. you don't want your neighbors to hear us, do you?” he looked you straight in the eyes and you moaned, enjoying the sensations and the obscene sounds Obi-wan's mouth caused against your intimate area.

You felt a knot forming in your stomach, your orgasm was approaching and Obi-wan could tell by your breathing speeding up. “Love...” You whimpered, trying to pull his hair to let you release, but he was still at his job.

His lips sucked perfectly on your clit, drawing a high-pitched moan from you. It was too much, you couldn't hold back any longer. “That's it, beautiful. Come for me.”

You moaned as you heard it, finally the pleasure exploding inside you like fireworks. You covered your mouth, silencing your moans, for you couldn't control them.

Obi-wan gave you a kiss on your thigh, before climbing back up beside you, stroking your hair and murmuring praise as you came down from your cloud of climax.

You finally opened your eyes, panting and with your legs shaking from the pleasure. He was looking at you with a smirk, his hair was messy and his beard soaked with your fluids. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him close to you for a kiss. You gasped as you tasted yourself on his lips, your tongues dancing passionately.

“Wait.” He stood up for a second, reaching for something on your nightstand. It was a condom.

You wanted to tell him it wasn't necessary, but that would raise suspicion so you just took it as he landed back beside you.

You laid him fully on the bed, perching on top of him. Your center lightly brushed against his clothed erection, causing you both to gasp. You kissed him again, his hands on your thighs, your hips moving slightly, causing a perfect friction.

You lifted up slightly to remove his pants and underwear, finally freeing his big cock. You licked your lips, gripping it and running your thumb over its sensitive tip, which was covered in pre-cum.

You masturbated him a little, opening the condom and quickly putting it on him. Positioning the head of his member at your entrance, you slowly lowered yourself down, your head falling back from the sensation of his expanding you.

You looked into his eyes, he was flushed and his mouth slightly open in pleasure. He grinned a little at you. “You look beautiful from here.”

You began to move slowly with his help, your breaths quickening. It took some getting used to his size, but the feeling of fullness made up for it entirely.

Your hands rested on his chest to find stability, while his thumb stroked your clit in circles, causing you more pleasure.

“Oh, maker. Obi-wan...” You moaned, the obscene sounds caused by your bodies joining together surrounding the entire room.

You found the perfect rhythm, the tip of his cock touching your most sensitive spot perfectly, making you see stars. “Good lord...” Your boyfriend whispered, the way your pussy contracted in its extension making him feel closer and closer.

You felt your back arching, Obi-wan resting his free hand on your thigh to help you as you were getting closer and closer.

Your orgasm suddenly erupted, like a bolt of lightning shooting through your entire body. Beneath you, you felt your boyfriend gasping, his own release making his whole body tremble.

You stayed like that for a few seconds, you eventually lowering yourself to lie next to him, his strong, warm arms holding you as you caught your breath.

The rest was a blur. Obi-wan whispering beautiful things in your ear, how wonderful you had been, how beautiful and perfect you were. Sloppy kisses, soft looks.

Eventually he got up, going to the bathroom and returning with a towel to wipe off your remaining fluids. When he was done, he lay down next to you again, stroking your hair until you both ended up sound asleep next to each other.

© obiwansito, 2024. reposts, copies and translations are not allowed. my work cannot be used for training AI.

[losergender]

the more i read the faster the torture will end (yes im aware im choosing to do this and can stop when i want to)

okay back to titan attacks

"the truth of my life was becoming depressingly obvious: people didn't like me" alexis i know i said that i feel bad for you and stuff but you are also so unlikeable my dear. you never talk to anyone and your only 2 interests are mathematicians and classical music and you don't even bring them up when talking to people

stop guys she's wearing a black hoodie with a skull holding up a middle finger in the front

alexis this is why people dislike you.

alexis is on the pink press everyone

she keeps saying fluck instead of fuck

"the great war killing all our race was really bad for friendship" miss,,, miss do you hear yourself,,,

the one thing that annoys me the most about this book is that alexis cannot go two sentences without mentioning how she is suicidal and how she wants to die and straight up off herself and how despite having so many chances at it she never does it (WHICH IS COOL. DONT KILL YOURSELF PEOPLE) but she also never gives any explanation as to why not? like there was one chapter that in which she was at corfu w patrochilles and she was like "the best thing i could do was drown myself." cut to 3 paragraphs later, she's swimming with her pet because "she loves swimming." she's going through physical torture in the military thing they're at? "i wish i would die" "it's easier to die" "i'm gonna kms" "the moment i got a sec i was gonna kms." she gets close to death once and she's like "thank god i didn't die." which is a thing that happens. many people myself included who have experimented a near-death experience or real fear of death after/during suicidal ideation will come to a realization that maybe they didn't want to die and the cognitive disonance of "i wish i could kms but i dont want to die" is, i feel, a not all that widely explored topic in YA fantasy. and i think it's interesting, and it opens so many doors in terms of character development, and it could have make this book so, so much better. and instead not only is the chance not taken, but also, it turns sucide into a joke for 36 chapter and it makes is so that any mention of actual risk of death/suicide goes as a joke even if its serious.

(bonus points -> she has two very clear reasons as to why she can't die. one is that she's technically immortal which i dont really get bc shes meant to be in military school as a trial to see if she deserves immortality but also she and her classmates can already not be killed. except for the fact that. they can because 3 of them died. so whats the point idk. and i can only imagine how distressful it would be for someone who has suffered so much and is actively facing torture every day of their life that and who is suicidal to be suddenly told that she is never gonna die. and she doesn't mention that whole dilemma AT ALL. then, theres the fact that her little brother doesn't know where she's been the past months and he's still facing homelessness, this time by himself yes i still think he's dead. see, she brings up charlie like once every 3 chapters when she remembers to which i guess is a good amount. the idea of charlie is there either to make her feel guilty (when she has the wet dream) or to motivate her, because she wants to go back to him. BUT IT IS NEVER THERE TO MOTIVATE HER OUT OF HER SUICIDAL IDEATION? WHICH,,, AM I THE ONLY ONE WHO FINDS THIS A BIT RANDOM? like how come charlie is good motivation when you are being forced to run after weeks of starvation but he is never once mentioned when you are wishing you would kill yourself? why is it "i gotta survive this for charlie" and then immediately after "i should kms" and no mention of charlie? like it feels so,, idk. whatever. sure.)

back to reading

speechless

"at this point, i didn't care if carl gauss thought i wasn't accomplished in the after life (i cared). carl can suck on my... stuff."

YOU HAVE A NICE GUY GREETING YOU WITH A SMILE AND BEING FRIENDLY TO YOU IN SPITE OF THE FACT YOU HAVEN'T TALKED TO ANYONE BUT 1 GUY IN MONTHS, IN SPITE OF THE FACT NO ONE WANTS TO KNOW SHIT ABOUT YOU, IN SPITE OF THE FACT YOU'VE BEEN COMPLAINING ALL CHAPTER ABOUT HOW PEOPLE DISLIKE YOU?? AND YOUR REASON IS THAT HE IS TOO GRATEFUL AND CHEERFUL?? ALEXIS IM TRYING TO BE NICE TO YOU BUT MY GIRL I CANT

a titan just attacked in the chapter called titan attacks who's surprised

"ice covered" you're in a greek island in autumn why is there snow.

okay so. the titan attacked while they were running (they've a circuit they have to do often around the island) and most students went to hide but she stayed behind to help one who had fallen (and who now is dead) and then she started to attack the titan herself with a stone and stuff until kharon (the predator) came to finish him off. and now. i think he's gonna kiss her. which. to quote finn mertens, i nono wanna.

btw in case anyone's lost, there's two guys pursuing alexis, kharon (the predator) and augustus (the evil teacher slash pokemon sword guy) (and theyre lovers)

alexis youre stupid

c-ptsd flashback okay

oh and now kharon mister "she's prey",, mister "i'm gonna kill her", mister "i'll be your sworn enemy", miser "i wanna torture you" is like "nooo alexis :( i didnt mean to trigger you by threatening to beat you up"

"can i touch you" BROTHER YOU WERE HOLDING HER BY THE JAW SECONDS AGO AND HAVE BEEN TOUCHING YOURSELF TO HER FOR AGES. WHAT HAPPENED BETWEEN 1 MINTE AGO AND NOW FOR YOU TO LEARN CONSENT

augustus' whole thing is that he's overprotective of women to the point he wants to control every single one of their actions and he's so controlling of alexis that he threatens to torture/actually tortures everyone who touches her including doctors im gonna scream

also can i just say they go through all this intensive physical training just for their weapons of choice to be. Guns.

welcome to sunny reacting to stuff in which sunny reacts to stuff. in this tumblr post, we're dealing with blood of hercules (the i'm a girl and as it turns out i'm hercules book) because i'm doing So Bad Mentally that i am in dire need of something that will make me laugh.

chapter 1 reaction below

montana?? out of all states?? okay go off

"kids at school called it apocalytic core. i called it hell" already laughing. i love my life decisions.

SUPERSEED I'M SORRY WHAT?

"if you wanted to live (i didn't)" you and me both bestie

does the author know verb tenses

i'm saying so little bc otherwise the post would be huge. every single sentence is hilariously bad this is so silly

summary if anyone is interested -> pretty unclear dystopian setting, 10-yo befriends an echidna named nyx and then gets a foster brother delivered to her room the next day. the titans are like superhumans killing normal people and the "spartans" are 12 protector families (8 are olympian, 4 are cthonic and those are dangerous murderers or something).

[reginrokkr]

I've been experiencing some issues when searching for specific things in my blog, which led me to re-post the addendums individually. Until I'm up to date with them again, that kind of posts will be postponed so that all of them can be found in an orderly manner.

[sulfurrrr]

dear LORD i am having A Week.

[bluerosefox]

Always Favors You

Another Sibling Danny and Jason idea!!

"Are you Jason Peter Todd?!" demanded a deep and commanding tone from the strange glowing being in front of them.

All the Bats stiffened and tensed, no doubt gearing up for a fight against the being that somehow knew Red Hood's full name.

Jason, Red Hood, decided to put on a brave front despite no doubt cursing in his head and wondering how the heck did this thing know his full freaking name.

"Whose asking." he snarled out, his hands twitching for his gun when the huge glowing knight with purple flames coming out of his helmet and cape, who was riding on a nightmare looking horse while they all had been in the cave going over tonight's patrol.

The Knight didn't seemed bothered by his response nor did he even seem to care or flinch when Batman made his own demand on 'Why was he there and who was he' or when Damian unsheathed his sword and pointed it towards him. Instead the strange glowing Knight reached to it side and pulled out... A glowing scroll? Huh. (Also he completely unnerved everyone in the room when the Knight didn't even react when Batman had tossed a Baterang when he reached for his side)

The Knight opened the scroll and spoke clearly with purpose.

"Jason Peter Todd,

You are hereby invited as a special guest of honor to the crowning of our future King of the Infinite Realms.

Daniel Phantom, once Daniel Jackson Fenton, and once Daniel Austen Todd.

Prince of the Infinite Realms, the Keeper of Balance, The Peacekeeping Halfa, the Defeater of the Tyrant King Pariah Dark, The Great One, Youngest of the Ancients, Ancient of Space, The Bridge between Life and Death.

You, the half-brother of our King, have been given the highest of honors for your past actions and will be given housing and food in the Realms and Phantom's Keep, for the week long event. Personal servants and attendants will be at your disposal and a seamstress will be on hand to tailor make your attire for the Coronation.

Signed: Clockwork. Ancient of Time. Watcher of the Infinite Timeline. Kronos. Mentor and Adviser.

PS: I shall have Fright Knight ("Me" the Knight bluntly said for a second) leave this scroll along with a personal one for you from Daniel to read over and once you make up your mind sign the bottom of the scroll.

I do hope in time you will pick the right choice Jason Todd, we of the Infinite Realms would like to reward you for your actions. After all, if you hadn't gotten young Daniel away from your father that night all those years ago, we would never had gained our Prince nor be free from our once Tyrant King.

Ah, one more thing.

The Infinite Realms will always favor you Jason."

Jason felt like he couldn't breath as Fright Knight? Rolled up the scroll, pulled a letter from his side, and held out the two items for him to take.

[infiniteglitterfall]

know someone who enjoys horror stories? share this one! it's true!

hahahahahahahahahaha aarrggghhhhhhhhhh 3,000,000 deaths due to COVID-19 last year. Globally. Three million. Case rates higher than 90% of the rest of the pandemic. The reason people are still worried about COVID is because it has a way of quietly fucking up your body. And the risk is cumulative.

I'm going to say that again: the risk is cumulative.

It's not just that a lot of people get bad long-term effects from it. One in seven or so? Enough that it's kind of the Russian Roulette of diseases. It's also that the more times you get it, the higher that risk becomes. Like if each time you survived Russian Roulette, the empty chamber was removed from the gun entirely. The worst part is that, psychologically, we have the absolute opposite reaction. If we survive something with no ill effects, we assume it's pretty safe. It is really, really hard to override that sense of, "Ok, well, I got it and now I probably have a lot of immunity and also it wasn't that bad." It is not a respiratory disease. Airborne, yes. Respiratory disease, no: not a cold, not a flu, not RSV.

Like measles (or maybe chickenpox?), it starts with respiratory symptoms. And then it moves to other parts of your body. It seems to target the lungs, the digestive system, the heart, and the brain the most.

It also hits the immune system really hard - a lot of people are suddenly more susceptible to completely unrelated viruses. People get brain fog, migraines, forget things they used to know.

(I really, really hate that it can cross the blood-brain barrier. NOTHING SHOULD EVER CROSS THE BLOOD-BRAIN BARRIER IT IS THERE FOR A REASON.) Anecdotal examples of this shit are horrifying. I've seen people talk about coworkers who've had COVID five or more times, and now their work... just often doesn't make sense? They send emails that say things like, "Sorry, I didn't mean Los Angeles, I meant Los Angeles."

Or they insist they've never heard of some project that they were actually in charge of a year or two before.

Or their work is just kind of falling apart, and they don't seem to be aware of it.

People talk about how they don't want to get the person in trouble, so their team just works around it. Or they describe neighbors and relatives who had COVID repeatedly, were nearly hospitalized, talked about how incredibly sick they felt at the time... and now swear they've only had it once and it wasn't bad, they barely even noticed it.

(As someone who lived with severe dissociation for most of my life, this is a genuinely terrifying idea to me. I've already spent my whole life being like, "but what if I told them that already? but what if I did do that? what if that did happen to me and I just don't remember?") One of its known effects in the brain is to increase impulsivity and risk-taking, which is real fucking convenient honestly. What a fantastic fucking mutation. So happy for it on that one. Yes, please make it seem less important to wear a mask and get vaccinated. I'm not screaming internally at all now.

I saw a tweet from someone last year whose family hadn't had COVID yet, who were still masking in public, including school.

She said that her son was no kind of an athlete. Solidly bottom middle of the pack in gym.

And suddenly, this year, he was absolutely blowing past all the other kids who had to run the mile. He wasn't running any faster. His times weren't fantastic or anything. It's just that the rest of the kids were worse than him now. For some reason. I think about that a lot. (Like my incredibly active six-year-old getting a cold, and suddenly developing post-viral asthma that looked like pneumonia.

He went back to school the day before yesterday, after being home for a month and using preventative inhalers for almost week.

He told me that it was GREAT - except that he couldn't run as much at recess, because he immediately got really tired. Like how I went outside with him to do some yard work and felt like my body couldn't figure out how to increase breathing and heart rate.

I wasn't physically out of breath, but I felt like I was out of breath. That COVID feeling people describe, of "I'm not getting enough air." Except that I didn't have that problem when I had COVID.) Some people don't observe any long (or medium) term side effects after they have it.

But researchers have found viral reservoirs of COVID-19 in everyone they've studied who had it.

It just seems to hang out, dormant, for... well, longer than we've had an opportunity to observe it, so far.

(I definitely watched that literal horror movie. I think that's an entire genre. The alien dormant under ice in the Arctic.)

(oh hey I don't like that either!!!!!!!!!) All of which is to explain why we should still care about avoiding it, and how it manages to still cause excess deaths. Measuring excess deaths has been a standard tool in public health for a long time.

We know how many people usually die from all different causes, every year. So we can tell if, for example, deaths from heart disease have gone way up in the past three years, and look for reasons. Those are excess deaths: deaths that, four years ago, would not have happened. During the pandemic, excess death rates have been a really important tool. For all sorts of reasons. Like, sometimes people die from COVID without ever getting tested, and the official cause is listed as something else because nobody knows they had COVID. But also, people are dying from cardiovascular illness much younger now.

People are having strokes and heart attacks younger, and more often, than they did before the pandemic started. COVID causes a lot of problems. And some of those problems kill people. And some of them make it easier for other things to kill us. Lung damage from COVID leading to lungs collapsing, or to pneumonia, or to a pulmonary embolism, for example. The Economist built a machine-learning model with a 95% confidence interval that gauges excess death statistics around the world, to tell them what the true toll of the ongoing COVID pandemic has been so far.

Total excess deaths globally in 2023: Three million.

3,000,000.

Official COVID-19 deaths globally so far: Seven million. 7,000,000. Total excess deaths during COVID so far: Thirty-five point two million. 35,200,000.

Five times as many.

That's bad. I don't like that at all. I'm glad last year was less than a tenth of that. I'm not particularly confident about that continuing, though, because last year we started a period of really high COVID transmission. Case rates higher than 90% of the rest of the pandemic. Here's their data, and charts you can play with, and links to detailed information on how they did all of this:

Here's a non-paywalled link to it:

https://archive.vn/2024.01.26-012536/https://www.economist.com/graphic-detail/coronavirus-excess-deaths-estimates

Oh: here's a link to where you can buy comfy, effective N95 masks in all sizes:

Those ones are about a buck each after shipping - about $30 for a box of 30. They also have sample packs for a dollar, so you can try a couple of different sizes and styles.

You can wear an N95 mask for about 40 total hours before the effectiveness really drops, so that's like a dollar for a week of wear.

They're also family-owned and have cat-shaped masks and I really love them. These ones are cuter and in a much wider range of colors, prints, and styles, but they're also more expensive; they range from $1.80 to $3 for a mask. ($18-$30 for a box of ten.)

[nikovraskol]

crack baby ; three

wc ; 3745 masterlist after dying, you expected to be greeted with the open arms of the void swallowing your body, mind and soul. what you didn't anticipate is waking up sixteen once more with a chance to change your fate -- but something strange is happening, why are the locks changing and why are all eyes suddenly on you ?

tw ; brief mention of death, cursing, neglect

prologue, one, two, three, tbc..

Sometimes it feels like there is someone puppeteering you into the worst scenarios possible.

It started when finally, after days of contacting every single landlord in Gotham and Bludhaven, one kind old man reached back. The house he was willing to rent you wasn’t half bad either, certainly no Wayne Manor but a small apartment about a convenience store would suffice.

After regressing, you were stuck in a loop of tears and anger and whatever strange, uncomfortable feeling you got whenever you were reminded of your weird interaction with Dick.

But finally, light at the end of the rainbow! You could cry (of joy this time), but you’ve no time for tears. Not when you’re faced with a big, overpowering problem. Leaving the Manor.

Now, in the past, you could just get up and leave, however after your run-in with Damian and Dick, you’re apprehensive to leave your room. What if you’re ambushed again? By Tim? Or Jason? Or heaven forbid, Dick again? Terrifying! You don’t have time to dilly dally, not when Mr. Kim is waiting in your future home.

So, you’re very on edge, looking around every corner with apprehension, bracing yourself for anything and everything. When you finally reach the door, unharmed, you let out a deep sigh, only to hear a voice behind you.

“Master (Name).”

What now? You whip your head around, a sense of deja vu hitting you, oh, it’s just Alfred. You let out a sigh, glad it’s not Dick with his strange shenanigans. “Alfred, is everything alright?” You smile, out of everyone, Alfred is the one you love most, the one who cradled you close in those agonizingly lonely nights, when you’d call out for your mother, for your father, for anyone.

He was there.

“You’re heading out?” He asks, assessing you with an uneasy feeling in his stomach. A few days ago, Dick had informed him that you were acting strange, you had run away from your older brother. His mind raced, the implications of what that might mean has been weighing on the butler’s mind for days. It was uncharacteristic of you, up until about a week ago you would jump for joy if any of your family would glance at you.

But after that day, that day where you had skipped breakfast .. What changed? Why are you suddenly so uninterested in your family? It’s unnatural. Your whole life had always been dedicated to them, you’d do anything to be apart of them, to be seen. So why? When you finally had the chance to be centre stage, were you walking away? Something about your demeanour was off and he didn’t like it.

“Yes, I’ve–” You pause, should you tell Alfred? I’m going to move out and never speak to anyone from this house again! No, you’ll wait until you’ve secured a place before letting him know. You’re not prepared for that conversation. “I’m going to– for a walk.” The lie is stale on your tongue, you’ve never lied to Alfred, not besides petty ones to get out of trouble. But this feels different, a heavy knot tying in your shoulders as you watch the butler’s confused expression.

“Is that so? Because a few days ago, Master Dick–” You were out the door before he could finish his damn sentence. You are not in the mood to discuss Dick right now! It’s going to ruin your chipper mood.

The click of the door had Alfred’s eyes narrowing, his eyes trained on where you once stood. He believed that the small push he gave Bruce would be enough, but it’s just driving you further away. How troublesome, he doesn’t want for you to end up hurt.

“Wow! This is a really great place? And I get the first month free?” You are convinced whatever deity sent you back in time is responsible for the saint before you. The small, chubby old man who speaks to you in such a paternal voice it makes you want to cry.

“Of course, it’s no problem, I just need to speak to your guardian to agree on your emancipation, plus they’ll need to sign some consent forms.”

“What?” You blink dumbly, your heart momentarily stopping before the damn organ speeds up so quickly it could power a small village, you try to convey your thoughts but all you can manage is a few dumb noises. “Are– Are you sure?”

“Apologies, since you’re only sixteen – you must have a guardian’s consent, this is a legal rental after all,” he smiles apologetically, before adding, “if you want to live somewhere without your parent’s consent, it’ll have to be illegally – which can be dangerous, ‘specially for a youngling such as yourself.”

Oh, right. You’re sixteen. The fact slipped your mind once more, you’re so foolish. So damn foolish, nothing will ever be so easy, nothing in your life will ever be handed to you like this. “Right, I’ll– let you know.” You smile, your eyes scanning over the small apartment once more. It reminds you of the place you stayed with your mother, the small space encapsulating those memories you hold dear so perfectly that if you light a few ciggerattes and close your eyes, you'll go back in time.

“I’ll keep this off-sale for you, please let me know as soon as possible.” Mr. Kim, so nicely adds, his small face – wrinkled with age, softening at your disheartened expression. You so desperately want to beg for him to rethink, to make an exception, but you don't want to get him in trouble, not since he’s been so kind.

And so, with a heavy heart, you walk out, walking with effort since your feet don’t want to leave. Don’t want to leave a future that could be, that should’ve been. Ugh, how disgustingly sentimental.

You don’t feel like returning to the Manor, not yet. The air outside is nice, it’s nice to breathe in a taste of something other than the suffocating walls around you, even if it’s just some dingy back alley. It’s nice to see what could’ve been, that is until a large hand clamps down on your shoulder.

Oh, great. So the one time you leave the Manor you die again. Maybe you’ll regress to when you’re eleven next, you muse.

“What the hell are you doing around here?” You recognise that voice and immediately you don’t want to turn around. What is he doing out? During the day? You thought vigilantes only patrol during the lunar hours, so why? Your heart squeezes in your throat, desperate to claw its way out, to escape your pitiful body.

After a tense moment of silence, you turn around, there he stands. Red Hood, your older brother. Well, older brother is a stretch, you’ve never really interacted with him – much like the rest of your family. You were brought in when he was still Robin, but he died shortly after. A small, vengeful part of you blamed him for your neglect. That was until Bruce brought in Tim, and you watched bitterly how Tim was embraced immediately, he didn’t have to fight for any attention, he was accepted by everyone and you were forced to swallow the thought that it wasn't Jason's fault -- but your own.

When Jason was somehow brought back, you selfishly hoped you would be able to bond with him, that he’d be the one to look back at you, to get to your level and hold you close.

No such thing happened, the only time you saw him was when he was walking through the Manor to the Batcave, and even then, he gave you a bone-chilling glare. You didn’t think of him so optimistically after that. Now, with his hand clutching your shoulder, his expression covered by his menacing red helmet..

You’re ready to be shot 5 times again.

“I asked you a question.” He says, his hand tightening on your shoulder, you snap out of your stupor immediately, your fear morphing into frustration. You shove his hand off of you with more effort than you’re comfortable with, and even then you’re sure he’s the one who dropped his hand to not embarrass you any further.

“I’m allowed to go outside.” You huff, your nerves practically fighting against the restraints of your skin, a cold, overbearing feeling rushing over you. This was..– Everything was wrong, this is not how this is supposed to go, not at all.

“You were talking to Mr. Kim, why?” He asks bluntly, your heart stops beating for a moment, the only thing you can hear is the ringing in your ears, your brain trying to block this all out, trying to block out everything. “Actually, nevermind, I think I know why.”

You want to cry, why was this happening? You were so happy, so content. Why do you bump into them every time you leave your room, can’t you have one good day? Will you need to become a hermit? Will that get them off your back?

“I can drive you back to the Manor–”

“No, I’m fine.” You cut him off, your voice not masking any of your fear, it has Jason blinking under his mask. Why were you so on edge? What’s going on with you?

“I insist– Gotham isn’t safe for you to just be–..” He watches the downright terrified expression on your face before sighing and signalling for you to go, his stomach churns in an unfamiliar way as you scurry away.

Why were you so nervous? Could it be that you're scared of him?

That’s understandable, you’re not a vigilante, you’re just some average kid. But when he saw you walking alone, he detests himself for the way his heart swelled with happiness. In his Robin days, he loved watching the normalcy of your life, the way you would live free of any strings to the ghastly occupation he had.

He was scared to get closer, scared to shatter that illusion you had.

The fear amplified when he came back to life, he was relieved to see that you were still unaffiliated with Batman, but fuck, he was too cowardly to reach out, that day when you looked at him with gladness, he was hit with a paralysing fear of you getting too close, of you getting hurt. He replays the crushed expression that dawned your face like a damn broken stereo.

So when he saw you sulking about a few moments ago, he saw his chance to reach out, to get a taste of your normalcy, he took it, however selfish it may be.

“Whatever.” He grits, climbing up the roof to tail you, he’s content with watching from afar, for now.

The whole way back to the Manor felt like a fever dream, you can’t brush these oddities off as coincidences, why the hell did Red Hood approach you. Was he trying to pull a Damian? Was that a simple reminder of how pathetic you are? Why did he do that?!

Why was everyone acting so strangely?

The Manor offered you no comfort, it’s looming walls did nothing but remind you of your own shortcomings, you were afraid, you were perplexed but above all you were furious. Why now? When you’ve finally accepted your position in this family, why are they all turning their heads. Well damn them! You’re sick of this whole stupid charade, you won’t be that small child anymore, a child who knew only loneliness. You’re going to become your own person outside of the surname which has held you back for so long.

“We need to talk.” A voice calls out as you reach your room, what now? You’re sick of these damn conversations. You just want to move out, why is it so damn hard?

Oh, it’s Bruce again. Your lips press into a thin line as he stands before you, you can hear the soft humming running through the Manor walls. When you were younger, that sound brought you so much comfort, yet now it’s different. Like a warning.

“Talk? About what?” You try to smile, but it comes out as more of a grimace. You’re distinctly aware of the way his brows furrow at your pitiful expression. Oh hell, you hope this won’t be another walk down the Manor where you awkwardly fumble in silence.

You don’t say anything as he leads you away from your room, a sullen quilt draped over the Manor, a strange foreboding sense that something’s going to happen. Something bad. You’re utterly perplexed as your father guides you to a part of the Manor you’re somewhat familiar with.

As a child, you used to lurk around the corners of these very walls, watching your family, itching to reach out and join in but fearing ruining the delicate painting they created. Fearing rejection, the cold glares and sneers as they pushed you away. So you trailed silently, waiting, hoping that someone would look back, smile at you and maybe hold out their hand. But it only ever happened in your dreams, a pale illusion of a reality that should've been true.

“Where did you go?” He asks, his eyes boring onto you with such intensity you can distinctly feel the way your blood begins furiously to pump through your veins, why did he care? “Alfred said you went out.”

“I just wanted some fresh air.” You’re not sure why you’re lying, it’d be easier to tell Bruce that you went to go see a house, the consent forms are folded in your pocket, waiting for his signature. It’d be so simple, so easy. Just a dip of pen on paper and you’ll be out.

So why do you feel such dread? A dread unlike anything you’ve ever felt. When you were in that alley, bleeding out helplessly, even then this oppressive feeling, which tightens your ribcage, forcing your organs into a tight space until you couldn’t breathe, until you couldn’t comprehend if it was your heart pounding so heavily or your lungs, wasn't as scary.

“You’re only sixteen, you need to let someone know where you’re going.” His voice is so unbelievably despotic that it made your very core tremble with anxiety, with a looming sense of doom.

“It’s never been a problem before.” You mumble, your voice a lot quieter than you would’ve liked, your vocal chords burning with each word passing through it, your nerves invading each of your senses, as if warning you to stay quiet.

Bruce says nothing, and the moment the air grows stale you wish you could take your words back. You can see the way his brows crease, the way he looks at you as though you’re some sort of criminal and not his own flesh and blood, the soft humming in the walls has disappeared, left behind in your area of the Manor. Though it’s odd, when you would lurk around the Manor as a youthling, there was always some sort of background noise in this area, where everyone hung out. The silence unnerved you, another thing that’s changed, another thing you couldn’t have predicted.

“If you’re going out, make sure to let me know.” He sighs, his expression softening as he looks down at you with what you interpret as belittlement, a burning hot rage boils in your stomach, and once more, you’re hit with the knowledge this isn’t how things are supposed to go, Bruce isn’t supposed to care that you go out without telling anyone, he’s not supposed to care about you.

‘You don’t get to tell me what to do!’ you want to say, you want to scream, to ask what rights he has to treat you like a child? How dare he? It makes your very being tremble with frustration, your hands clenching with barely contained anger.

But you don’t. Why? Is it the natural response from your mind? The fear of disappointing him? The fear that if you speak up, you’ll be kicked out and left to rot? Or perhaps it’s the fear of confrontation you gained through his negligence, the weakness he moulded. But still, you’re not sixteen anymore, not really. Mentally, you’re twenty-one, you’ve been through each stage of your life, and maybe, sure, the day you died, you were content for them to walk all over you in exchange for a single glance at your direction.

But you’ve died and come back (in time)! You shouldn’t let them walk all over you anymore, shouldn’t be content as an afterthought. So– you open your mouth and–

“What’s going on?” Another voice speaks out, great, because this is exactly what you needed, another clown to join the circus. Oh.

Is this a joke? Is the person responsible for your misfortune giggling at your despair, is it amusing to see you suffer?

Damian, Dick, Jason and now Tim.

Why is Tim walking up to you? Why is he looking at you? A rush of dread, a sensation you’ve grown familiar with in the past few days, washes over you. You’ve never had his eyes on you, never for so long. It’s unnerving. You thought the calculating look in Bruce and Damian’s eyes was scary, but the way Tim looks at you now? His eyes zeroed in on you? It has your insides melting into liquid, the urge to cover your face, to hide in the corner and bury your face in your knees is overwhelming.

You don’t want his eyes on you, you decide. Years of clawing at your own shortcomings, of desperately trying to appeal to him, to have him look back – you would do anything at that time for him to look at you the way he is now.

But now? You don’t like it, he wears a neutral expression, but the look in his eyes makes you feel vulnerable, like he’s picking you apart one by one, each twitch, each mannerism.

“It’s about what we talked about.” Bruce says, his tone completely natural, like he’s discussing the weather, you don’t know the specifics but you have a nagging feeling that you know what he’s speaking of.

“Ah. Really? You’re still on that?” Tim tuts, his head tilting ever so slightly as he studies you. Just as you’re about to ask what the fuck does he mean by that, he turns his attention to Bruce. “I told you, they can’t do anything without your consent, they’re 16.”

How dare they? How dare they talk as though you’re not here? This is disgusting, what loathsome, egotistical dickheads! Your hands itch, the anxiety in you speeding all over your body like a livewire, mixing with your anger to create an overwhelming feeling of terror.

What was the point of Bruce bringing you here? To mock you? Show you how great they have it? What you’ve been missing out on? Well, screw him. You need to get away before you lash out, you’re better than that. Better than this.

The pair watches as you walk away, your whole body tense. For a moment, there’s a prolonged silence which is broken by Tim. “Did we do something wrong?” He asks, genuinely confused by your little display.

When he came back from a particularly tough mission, the last thing he was expecting was everybody collectively freaking out. Bruce, Damian, even Dick were all tense, looking around each corner – searching for something, someone. 

It was weird for a multitude of reasons, firstly – Dick was supposed to be gone by now, his stay at the Manor was for a few days only. Why is he here? And secondly, nothing particularly stressful was happening in Gotham, so what was with the gloom and doom?

When Bruce sighed, telling him about your plans to move out, well, to say Tim was confused was an understatement. That did not deserve such a reaction, but then he really thought about it, and, if this is how they react to you threatening to leave..

If you were to actually step out that door, to alienate away from them, to discard your last name. His head begins to throb at the implications, he’s acutely aware of how selfish it is for him to wish to keep you around, to keep you in this Manor all to keep himself happy.

But then the thought that, really, he’s doing this for you! If you thought it was so easy to just get up and leave, that at sixteen you’d just be able to pack up and go. Well, with that stupidity, you wouldn’t survive outside, in Gotham no less. He was able to placate Bruce’s stressing, thankfully, because the man looked three minutes away from a heart attack.

You wouldn’t be able to go without Bruce’s permission, so long as they had that – you’d stay with them. But that’s what led him to seeking you out now, if you had ideas about leaving that meant you were unhappy.

He was hoping to talk to you, to ask if you wanted to hang out – that’s what you want, right? When he thinks of you, his mind conjures up the slightly annoying, slightly endearing child that you were. He’ll hang out with you, destroy those silly notions and everything will go back to how it was.

So why did you stomp off? That’s not how you’re supposed to act. That’s not how you are.

“I don’t think so.” Bruce replies to his earlier question, his eyes still trained on the spot in which you were. How could you walk off?

Why were you so off during that conversation? He couldn’t…– This belies everything Alfred had told him about you, it's left Bruce conflicted. He had hoped that by bringing you here, he could ask which room you liked best. But you walked off, why? Why do you deny his affection? He was worried when he heard you left, a small, vulnerable part of him was afraid that you wouldn’t come back, that you had left for good, slipped through his fingers before he could hold you close.

So, when he saw you walk in – oh, he was elated. He just wanted to convey his worries, but you seemed to have gotten the wrong idea. He really doesn’t want that, you don't need anymore reasons to leave.

He doesn’t want the terrified expression on your face, he wants that dazzled look you used to carry around, he wants you – not this restless part of you, but the real you.

He'll get it back, he's sure he will.

ugh i hate the misunderstanding trope i say as i write the misunderstanding trope

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@estreiiuh @beyondblissxoxo @jjsmeowthie @vanessa-boo @delias-stuff @d3nnji @wizzerreblogs s @lilyalone @strawbrysapphic @regulus-things s @iimichie @buckturd @eloriis @wassupbroski55555 @eyeless-kun @anakilusmos @peehall @bigeyedbaby @chaeugwi @snailpebbles @fandomly-obsessed @kitkatkitmeow @the-holy-pigeon @sheep-from-rad @mei-simp

[cutebat]

You know what, fuck it. I'm going to write my own neglectful yandere batfamily cause everyone else is doing it, but I'm going to do it in a different way.

Yandere Batfam x Neglected, but Defiant Reader

Prologue (Diary Entry)

Warning(s): Mentions of yandere themes, neglect, emotional abuse, mentions of physical abuse, forcing to drop out, attempted guilt tripping, reader is just venting out her feelings

(I made this in the reader's POV to make the whole 'diary entry' thing more sense.)

~~~~~

July 22, 2024

It's funny when someone tells their story.

Only to be told back that it's unrealistic.

Almost as if they're afraid to believe it's real...

Oh, God, that sounded dark.

~~~~~

For everyone who doesn't know,

Bruce is a billionaire who's also a shitty dad

Dick is a dick, like actually

Jason uses his trauma to let all his frustrations on me

Tim is a delusional bitch

Cass was okay until she knocked me to the ground

Damian is just a thing who you want to burn to ashes

Alfred... I guess is just Alfred

~~~~~

I was basically raised as what people would call a 'black sheep'. Kind of like... actually, I don't need to explain all that.

Basically, I was adopted by the infamous Bruce Wayne when I was ten for whatever reason. After the first day of living with him and the family and giving me the new role of Batgirl, everyone just pretended as if I didn't exist.

I tried to interact with every one of them and all I got were "sorry, can't talk right now" and "can you shut up".

Like, WHAT THE FUCK DID I DO TO THEM?!

Is it because I'm prettier than all of them and had barely any trauma in my past? Seriously, why are people so jealous about these kinds of things?

Bruce really signed all that paperwork for nothing.

Of course, my little ten year old brain would think that if I tried to impress all of them with what I could do, maybe I could gain their attention.

So by the time I was twelve with my ten year old mindset goal in my head, I did nine different after school activities, won over fifteen awards for my achievements, and went out to patrol at least six nights a week.

And none of that worked! Those fuckers wouldn't even spare me a glance!

~~~~~

After a while, you don't see a point in trying your best.

I dropped out of most of the clubs I regret joining, I just laid back in my classes, and most of all...

I quit being Batgirl.

I didn't want to, but like I said, where's the point in that?

So with that, I just gave up on everything and just... stopped trying.

~~~~~

But then one year all of that almost changed?

For the first time ever, I found myself suddenly really pretty, and after a month I entered eighth grade, I was suddenly asked out by one guy, then two, and all the way up to ten!

It was like really cool!

The popular girls became my best friends, more guys would ask me out, and the teachers started pointing out that I was their favorite student, even the ones who weren't my teachers.

It felt like I was on top of everything. That I was special. The world is revolving around me.

Finally, I was in a place to build a great reputation.

And then life was like FUCK THAT!

~~~~~

After the first semester of eighth grade, Bruce was weirdly in my room and he said wanted to have a 'talk' with me.

So, during this talk, he was basically talking about the last three years of me being neglected by him and his family. To be honest, I forgot everything he told me, but honestly, I don't really care.

He also told the others about all this and now they suddenly feel bad which I don't give a shit about. But, I knew he was doing all this to guilt trip me, which was honestly so stupid.

Now, after he dropped that bomb, he told me that I had to drop out of school to do some "bonding time" with the others along with him and the people who actually cared about me didn't really matter at all!

I JUST GOT SETTLED IN!

All I said was "FUCK YOU" and just stormed out of my room with the only thing that I took was my diary that I had for quite a while that I never used before.

~~~~~

So, yeah. I'm currently in the attic, venting my feelings all out on this stupid glitter diary with a random pen that I found on the ground.

But whatever.

It doesn't matter.

Nothing matters...

My life is just a game.

A sick, hopeless game.

[ybklix]

𝐬𝐞𝐱 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐢𝐭𝐲

dear lord, when i get to heaven, please let me bring my man (ෆ˙ᵕ˙ෆ)♡ fr omg

★ pairing: idol!lee felix x fem!reader

✦summary: You got your dream job on one of the most important day for fashion industry, everything seems like a fairy tale, until you meet one of the people you are working for, which complicates your thoughts, a guy with an angelic face, however he is for you the devil wearing custom couture Tommy Hilfiger.

✭ content - tags - warnings: smut / one night stand / use of “y/n”/ handjob / oral sex / soft degrading / dom felix / semi public sex / unprotected sex / etc lol

word count: 5.1k

(masterlist)

♡ notes: 2024 felix at the met gala ♡

a/n: had to write smth ab my man looking this good on a big day, oopsies / all fiction, don't really know how's behind scenes lol / i'm watching the series so i'm romanticizing the carrie type of writing, enjoy!

There’s an old saying… “what happens in Vegas, stay in Vegas”, and for the New Yorkers with enough amount of luck, the equivalent of that would be: “what happens in the Met Gala, stays in the Met gala.”

You either had to be a celebrity with high status, or a very wealthy person… or sometimes, just part of the staff; yes you were in last link, but you were still happy.

There you were, on the first Monday of May, standing outside of the iconic decorated stairs of the Metropolitan Museum of Art, on the also iconic, 5th avenue of East side of Manhattan. Living your dream, because this year, you were inside, and not anymore as a viewer.

Life was going great for you, you’ll graduate from college exactly in nine days, and you were booked as a tour guide in the Met Gala a month ago. It was your dream job, even though you majored in journalism, working for Vogue was always your dream to be, you’ve been applying for the Met ever since you turned eighteen, and finally there you were wearing a vintage YSL black dress, from a vintage store in Soho, whose rent costs more than you apartment’s, with some Manolo shoes, living your little Carrie Bradshaw fantasy. But that didn’t matter, yeah, she was a woman with a steady job and you only a freshly graduated who expected to get hired as soon as you get your diploma.

They prepared you the whole past month, and you picked up your ID last week; this was going to look wonderful in your resume. You loved fashion, arts, writing, you didn’t care there was another 500 people doing exactly the same as you, you were there, living inside your bubble of the gossip girl and devil wears Prada vibes.

A lot of people hated New York; but you never could, you had a nice apartment on west side of Manhattan and an incredible fashion taste. You had to work as a staff for one the most emerging kpop groups, Stray Kids, or at least that’s what you read about online, you did your research: eight male members, only two of them fluent in English and the rest of them just shy to speak it out loud… you weren’t that unfamiliar at all, you recognized kpop is one of the greatest genres these days, but you were twenty one and going through your finals as the provided you that information, so you followed their social medias, caught up a little in their updates, learned their names and faces —which was very important—, but couldn’t fully concentrate in how handsome they were or at least get yourself a little of fangirlism. Once again, you were sinking in the lasts and very important moments of college.

So the thing was simple, they usually bring their own people around but for this event was the exception, once they stepped on the radar of these popular stairs, they were under the Met Gala staff, that’s when you get in.

You were waiting for them standing among the group of people who would be working the same as you, all with their dress code in black-only etiquette, to go unnoticed. It was your first Met Gala, although you didn't want to flatter yourself either in such a big way, but you had chosen a sexy dress with your back uncovered, you wanted simplicity, but not too much. The heels were starting to bother you a bit until, as fate would have it, a stout black man in charge of monitoring, with headphones on his bald head and clipboard in his hand shouted in a strong New York accent to the group of people you were in.

“The following celebrities are Stray Kids, I repeat so you can listen in the back, Stray Kids is coming! Their team step up to lead them in.”

Nerves got the better of you, it was your turn; you had seen your other ‘colleagues’ guide their respective assigned celebrities, so now it was your time. You hurried to the entrance, along with another girl and two other men. The large black van pulled up to sidewalk and finally, just as you had researched, eight pretty East Asian looking men exited one by one.

You tried to identify the one you had previously studied as their leader and one of the English speakers, until he finally emerged just to one side of you.

“It's this way, boys” your coworker, who was a little ahead of you, led the way.

The eight of them walked a bit and met their designer, the legitimate Tommy Hilfiger, while among the chaos of noise and nerves you tried to identify each one you were working for; they were all wearing long coats but you could distinguish that it was just to hide their real attire.

But apparently you were not the only one nervous, it was also their first Met Gala, an incredibly big event, a bit out of what they knew, in one of the countries where the music market was of utmost importance to consider and succeed, each one of them recognized that this was an important day and simply one more step in their artistic career. They were all nervous and excited; but even so you noticed a somewhat monotonous expression on each of them, you thought it was just nerves. You got a good look at them all as they talked to their designer in charge and noticed how each one had their own charm, they were attractive and smelled quite nice. You thought about how much fun this job is for you, being around celebrities.

“And y/n, right?” he came up to you, the man who had previously been giving directions to your boys.

You nodded, confused, he went on to say:

“I’m informed that you will be going into the museum with them, you can take the lead” he said in a strangely kind tone.

You smiled at him, you had forgotten the last time you met a nice New Yorker. It was when you realized it was time, you took a breath with your cheeks and released them, once you saw they finished their little talk, you took a step so everyone could see you and introduced yourself; it was part of your job and you had been trained for it. You started with a “hi, guys”, told them your name and added that you would accompany them to the exhibit. You looked forward to going in there.

You got the attention of all eight of them, after all they were still men, foreign men excited for a new experience. Once you turned around as you led the way you questioned if wearing that open back dress was the best choice, you hadn't really intended it that way; you also didn't expect them all to be 100 times more attractive in person, the pictures you saw on the internet didn't do them justice.

All the members of Stray Kids were with their respective emotions on edge, but especially one of them didn't know how to control himself. Felix, who at all times kept a serious countenance was more than excited and his body was reacting to it, betraying him, he was aroused. He wasn't exactly in the mood for sex, but somehow he felt uncomfortably hard. He was simply an excited little Asian boy with a not-so-little problem. An erection in his pants.

Felix had the experience at these kinds of fashion events, but simply something about this city drove him incredibly crazy. Somehow he was thirsty for sex… but he didn't feel like he was at this very moment. He had to put on his best show and control his body, he slyly checked his pants and it was a relief that the design was perfectly loose so it couldn't be noticed. But it all got worse when he saw his pretty young guide and staff for tonight, with her pretty makeup and perfect hair done, with her back uncovered.

Felix read her name on her ID hanging on her body and checked slyly if anyone else of his friends and colleagues thought the same as him… he could notice it in the look of his friend Bang Chan, however Felix noticed the little importance that Chan himself gave her and continued treating her with kindness and courtesy, who from time to time gave her a certain look was his other friend Seungmin, who was the master of disguise, but not for Felix, not after knowing him so long and living with him.

But that was just the thrill of the moment, as Felix took full control of his body as he approached his final stretch, an interview and then the longed-for Met Gala stairs. Like a pro idol, he knew how to handle it, and everyone had a spectacular and memorable entrance.

You saw them from afar, Bang Chan had introduced you to each one of them and thanked you for accompanying them even though you hadn’t start yet, you thought he was an unreal man, in fact all eight of them were, their perfectly manicured faces and the subtlety of their make-up were to you so…. You were speechless; but if you had to choose one, putting yourself in the shoes of millions of girls around the world even of your age discovering an attractive boy band, maybe among them all… it would be the only blond guy with long hair. You thought between sighs how cute he was, you were down bad when it came to cute boys, also the long-haired ones.

You remembered his name, Felix; a little strange, it sounded like an old name but somehow it fit him so well, you thought; now you were not only fulfilling your dream job, you would be together with eight handsome men, you almost wanted to let out a little giggle, but it was time to monitor how well they took the pictures of your “bosses” as they posed on the carpet.

You waited a moment more before finally entering, it seemed like hours, until finally the doors opened for you and there suddenly you felt your heart burst, not even Felix's pretty face could have impacted you so much, the exhibition of unique pieces in the haute couture of fashion history.

“You can start to separate and see freely” you mentioned to them.

You saw them, they looked totally lost.

“Mm, I don't think so, we like to stay together” Chan answered with a nervous smile.

“Well, if you like, we can start here…” you spoke.

You didn't want to keep them tied up nor did you want to feel like a big deal, you were only going to accompany them and follow their instructions, however they seemed to follow yours; you gave yourself the task of showing them every corner and giving them a little summary of what each exhibit meant, however you couldn't help hiding your excitement, your eyes shone with care and all eight noticed your adorable expression, even those who couldn't fully understand you because of the language barrier, your expressions spoke for themselves. And Felix couldn't take his eyes off you the whole tour.

Felix didn't understand what was wrong with him, whether it was the excitement of the foreigner, the significant change of time zone, his pretty part of the assigned staff, or the incredible urge to have sex. He wasn't normally like that… well, at least not in places like these. He left the dirty thoughts for later when he was in the quiet of solitude. But just now he had those thoughts of how hot it must be to be fucking someone while wearing that perfectly tailored suit, making a mess among all the tidiness that went with it all.

He wasn't like that… but the more he thought about it, the more he was tempted, he thought it would be the only time he would see you, that you had to be professional and not at all indiscreet, that it would only be one night. He was becoming more and more convinced, what was wrong with him? He was handsome, young, successful and very well endowed, he only needed to show his gifts to someone. Felix thought if that someone could be you; this was not Felix who thinks dating and love were important, suddenly something came over him, like a haughty alter ego blinded by his dazzling fame, ready to just have sex.

The main event started, the dinner and the show, you had gotten a table, only confirmed by the exclusively selected staff in perhaps, one of the worst areas, still you were in, from going to see the Met outside on the street, to being seated next to a bunch of celebrities in the same room; you were so happy you could die the next day thinking you made it.

But once the show was over, little by little so was your spark, it was time to go back to your reality and take a cab home; the folks at that table were mentioning something about an after party, among them and a bunch more… but you didn't want the smell of celebrities and fame to leave your pores and get lost in some stranger's apartment.

You were about to check out when a short woman rushes up to you asking if there was any Stray Kids staff at the table.

“Here, me!” you showed her your ID quizzically. “What's going on?”

“What are you doing here? They're escorting you to the after party.”

Puzzled, you mumbled a “what?” and followed her hurried pace as she was leaving.

“After party, with who?”

The woman stopped in her tracks and turned to look at you.

“Well, who are you working for.”

Impossible, you thought. You were supposed to check out and you weren't allowed to go outside the museum, they couldn't just invite you like that, could they? Why would they? Besides you were working for the museum, not for them. Sadly, you had to make it clear to them.

You walked towards them who were already at the main exit leaving with other celebrities, you got up the courage and approached them.

“Nice to meet you guys, but I think it was a misunderstanding, I can't accompany you, I work for the museum… they didn't give me directions to follow you.”

“And what time do you leave?” Chan asked you with a hoarse voice and eyes fixed on you.

“Just now…” you added awkwardly, not knowing what to say as the eight men stared at you.

“Perfect” Chan said in a thick accent with a smile.

“Now you work for us, let's go to the after party” spoke in a cold, distant and arrogant tone the pretty blond boy who had caught your attention.

You had not heard him speak, not until now. You were too surprised by the contrast of his angelic face and his incredibly thick voice.

You were able to register your exit and hurriedly kept up with the boys.

“We liked the way you explained the exhibition, we will have you as translator now” Chan told you as he quickened his pace leaving you behind.

It didn't make the slightest sense what he just said. You don't even speak Korean.

You sighed and could not deny the excitement of living another adventure, it was not like they were forcing you, you were now going to go to the legendary Met Gala after party.

You got into a dark van along with more of their staff and in the minutes of traffic you were finally there. You couldn't believe it, for a moment you stopped thinking that things made sense.

Luckily you were not alone, but accompanied by another girl in the staff, all looked great but it was evident that no one wanted to socialize with you and it was difficult for you to do so; so you felt uncomfortable and out of place, questioning if you should really be there.

After a few minutes you noticed that Felix stood up from his seat, taking the button of his suit and slyly approached you.

“Can you come with me?” he whispered in your ear with his deep voice.

You froze, and followed him without thinking too much, something wasn't right when it came to him…. besides, you thought you had to follow his instructions.

Felix went to a private bathroom, you wanted to think that maybe he wanted you to take care of his coat… if not, why else would he ask you to accompany him; he entered quickly, in a suspicious way and then came out quickly looking around frantically, until he pulled you by the arm and took you with him to that small elegant bathroom, locking the door. You couldn't process the speed of the actions and suddenly, you saw his piercing gaze in front of yours.

What was going on?

Felix had enough, watching you flirtatiously talking to Chan, sweet talking all his friends, there was nothing else to explain but that he was horny and wanted to have you right now. You weren't stupid, you noticed his looks but wanted to ignore them, but it turns out that wasn't what he wanted.

So there you were, inwardly struggling whether to play along with whatever he intended to do or put your ethics above… you analyzed him, he looked so good with his long hair and white suit, you'd probably never see him again, you wanted to bite your lip just thinking about how dangerous and fast-paced some kind of sex like that would be, on the sly. But you couldn't make up your mind, this was about Conde Nast, your dream, not easy access to fuck.

Felix noticed too the early darkness in your gaze, reflecting lust, he was already hard from just thinking about your ass slapping his pelvis as he thrust his cock in and out your pussy mercilessly. You so wet, making a mess, the two of you indulging in passion while a bunch of people decide to party outside.

“I don't normally do this but… I may only see you once in my life…”

Felix said in a voice thicker than what you had heard and came dangerously close to you, who were glued to the door, perplexed.

“Felix…” you wanted to think clearly but his full lips in a perfect heart shape were distracting you.

“If you want to fuck me… you have to promise me to never tell anyone.”

Felix whispered plaintiff in your left ear, losing himself in the scent of you hair. You couldn't take it anymore, if he kept talking, you might cum at any moment.

You understood the situation of things and the importance of his comment, after all he was still a global superstar. But not telling would not only be a beautiful secret to take to your grave and something fun to remember, but it would also be beneficial for you, because under no circumstances should a female employee have sex with her assigned celebrity. You would be banned from all of Manhattan or the city if possible, public enemy number one.

He moved closer to your ear, thinly brushing his lips on it and making you lose control little by little by his approach. You closed your eyes, completely lost, fuck it, you would fuck him and never see him again, at least not this intimacy.

“Why would I fuck and tell...?” you whispered completely lost in desire.

He chuckled, and finally grabbed you by the waist. Felix sought your lips and you kissed slowly, deeply and passionately, the kiss was so strong that you felt the pressure of his upturned nose on your face. You knew it was so wrong at any angle analyzed… but it felt so right, his lips were soft and he moved them with agility, your hands were still glued to the wall in surprise, but gradually you relaxed and managed to hold on to the ends of his jacket.

Felix also relaxed and his right hand moved down to your naked back and slowly and nimbly he moved his hand in until he squeezed and caressed your ass, his actions surprised you that you almost moaned at the touch, separating you a little from the kiss.

He pulled a few inches away from your lips and, as he ran his hand all around your ass, he looked you over with a look of superiority.

“You're such a slut, only wearing a fucking thong, almost like you were ready for me” he said with a husky voice.

This time you felt his noticeable bulge brush against your belly and his soft touch made you wetter and wetter.

“Get on your knees, beautiful.”

He ordered and you obeyed. Felix was sick of feeling horny, he wanted a quick fix, to strip the tight garments off his cock and be attended to urgently, once he had enough of his own, he was going to take over pleasuring you fully.

Your breath was getting shorter and shorter and you felt his member on the fabric, you thought about how good he looked from below and in all possible angles, then you pulled down his pants, ready to give him the best blowjob ever —or at least you hoped so—, you couldn't resist, you simply pulled down his underwear too, finding his throbbing and delicious cock so needy, its tip was bright pink and poor Felix was already showing signs of small droplets of pre-seminal fluid, and to think he had a fine and angelic face…. You had never felt so hungry and desirous, you were totally possessed; you wanted it in your hands, in your mouth, pounding your face, pounding your cervix… so you felt it, that firm hard manly hunk, at the mercy of your hands, feeling every texture of his skin.

Felix gasped, lifting his buttoned shirt a little, revealing a bit of his smooth but working abdomen. You took some of his fluid and spread it all over his length, lubricating it, it felt so good, but you were also so needy and desperate, and the thin fabric covering your intimate area didn't help at all, you felt the garment getting smaller and smaller, you felt your wet pussy growing and throbbing causing a delicious friction; but you thought you had to be more careful, your whole outfit was black, one stain of semen or fluids and you had to pay for the dress.

You moved a little away from him, hoping that no droplets of him fell on your attire, still you held his erection tightly with your left hand, making frantic movements, back and forth.

He was ecstatic, it was all he needed, to be sexually attended to; the New York air suited Felix Lee wonderfully, and the New York girl… he thought… she was out of this world, her hands felt fantastic on his hard manhood. He wanted to cum roughly, but he wanted to do it dirty in his employee's mouth and pretty face… he would never act like the beastly thing he was doing in Seoul, but new place, try new things.

So between sighs and gasps, he lowered his gaze and tried to communicate with her.

“Use your pretty mouth.”

You never thought he was going to ask, you didn't hesitate for a second, and the grotesque sound of your saliva dripping on his cock were heavenly; his sex was hot and smooth, the texture felt so good inside your cheeks but once again, you are desperate for him to take you and start moving your guts.

Within minutes, Felix cum in your mouth amid moans and groans, and the softest but most effective hair pulls, to make you go exquisitely deeper. You never thought he was so vocal, with a voice like that, you were in heaven; and it took you only a few seconds to drink his cum, as a reward.

“I think we need to get rid of that dress” he said trying to catch his breath. “I'll buy you 3 more, no worries.”

He took you by the chin, inviting you to stand up and helped you take off the dress, you were so excited that your vision was blurred and you couldn't think clearly… what was his next move….

You were amazed at how incredibly hard and standing still he was even after he had just cum, you thought, after all kpop idols did have it all, great stage presence, big penis, music talent, and for sex too.

He sat you on the small counter, him facing the mirror, the stone was cold and you were finally, almost, completely naked in front of him, wearing only your thin thong. Felix wasted no time and positioned himself between your legs, kissing you deeply and desperately as you carefully felt the tip of his penis brush your wet center each time they came closer, he moved his kisses down, to your neck, massaged your breasts and kissed and sucked them mercilessly, you wanted to scream with excitement but you were acutely aware that there were people outside, never mind the noise of the party. Once on your chest, he turned his angelic face up, with a dark mischievous look and that's when you felt his thumb caress your clit.

You moaned in relief, finally your exhausted pussy was going to be given attention. His movements were slow until each time he increased the acceleration, you couldn't help but writhe in pleasure and when your body contracted ready to climax, Felix introduced his fingers inside you, he felt the softness of your insides so lubricated and ready to feel his erection beating you frantically.

“Look at me” he asked once he saw that your attention was focused for a few seconds on his right hand playing with your pussy.

“Uh-mm” you murmured, nodding softly, almost in moans.

You weren't thinking clearly but decided to hold back the urge to cum just to feel his fingers inside you for a few more moments. You looked into his big dark eyes; you felt that he looked more calm and serious with that gaze locked on you and his innocent freckled look, unlike you that your eyes was totally submissive and you were almost about to cry with pleasure, oh and Felix loved that, all that mess because of him.

“I'm going to cum, Fe…” you moaned.

But you couldn't even speak, he accelerated his movements and your belly contracted so pleasantly bringing you to your first orgasm.

“I'm not done yet; let me clean up that mess you made.”

And without warning, Felix leaned down, gripping your thighs tightly, two of his fingers still freshly wet from my fluids, marked on your thigh; Felix ran his hot tongue across your cunt, licking all your cum.

He began to eat your pussy carefully, almost accomplishing step by step and you loved the delicacy of what he was doing, you were seeing stars, you didn't want this to ever end, you wanted him on you all the time. You took advantage and also took hold of his tightly tied hair. He did it so well that you had to cum a second time.

And finally, the act you both had been waiting for since he locked the door; Felix had saved the urge and was once again swollen and throbbing, screaming for attention and action. He cleaned the edges of his mouth in a attractive manner.

“Shit, I don't have a condom” he said in annoyance.

“It's okay, I'd never have your baby anyway.”

Felix smiled and you watched his erection in front of your pussy, until he gently pushed it in, until you closed your eyes once again in pleasure.

“I'm going to cum inside you and make sure your pussy misses every part of me.”

Felix whispered hotly in your right ear as you pressed your bodies closer and closer together, until you ended up with your legs wrapped around his waist, crushing bit of his outfit, and your hands on his shoulders. And then, he rammed you fast and as delicious as no one else had ever done, you moaned softly to avoid any strange noises from outside. It was incredible, you thought, his rhythm was strong and constant and when you began to lubricate his penis more indicating your soon orgasm, Felix separated from you and in quick movements he changed your position, lowered you from the counter, turned your body and introduced his penis making you stand still and making you both see yourselves in the mirror.

You couldn't be happier, you loved the fiction of his shirts stuck to your body of the clothes he still had on, and he began to pound more frantically and wildly, giving way to the sound of your skins colliding and your fluids combining. Felix held you tightly by the waist as he pulled your body away and closer, controlling it in his own way, you wanted to help him, moving your ass a little but his grip was too strong. You were with your back arched, holding tightly to the sink, giving choked moans as you felt his strong thrusts. Watching him fuck you in the mirror was fucking hot, he looked so attractive with his half-open mouth letting out soft moans and his concentrated countenance, frowning and his eyes locked on your ass, then on you.

Felix grabbed your hair in his fist and pulled it to pull you closer to him and glued you to his body, just when you thought it couldn't get any better, his thrusts were deeper that way and you were touching the edge.

“Do you like the way I fuck you, little slut, huh?”

You tried to nod between gripping your hair.

“Say it.”

“Yes-yes, Felix, ahh it feels good.”

“You feel good too, sweetheart, you're doing a great job.”

His dirty talk close to your ear were just more elements to make you cum faster and faster and each time you were more and more surprised, as his pace increased, finally making you climax, for the third time.

Felix smiled in victory as he felt your pussy muscles first tighten and then relax releasing more of your luscious fluids, wetting and hugging his hard cock, Felix continued another small moment, until he cum gloriously inside you and a little more above your ass.

You were perplexed. The sexual connection had been real. You both tried to catch your breath, he helped you put your dress back on and as you changed, Felix felt a little bad about just using you for his carnal desires, for you honestly it had been just a good fuck and you had your feet on the ground being aware that someone like him and you could never be together.

“So… Are you officially working on something related for Vogue?”

You smiled, as you tried to touch up your makeup, it was a bit badly retouched.

“No, it's my dream, they just hired me as a one-off for this year.”

“Maybe you should learn Korean and move there, Vogue Korea is still Vogue, isn't it?” he mentioned flirtatiously.

You chuckled again, that implied many things and at the same time none for you.

“Go out first, y/n, then I'll go out. I'll transfer you for the dresses outside, I don't even have my phone here” he said, finally in his deep voice calmer, almost looking tender, in his thick accent.

You smiled and looked at him one last time, before finally leaving for the party. Leaving you wanting more, but also with nothing more than just sex in the city.

[yxngbxkkie]

just a fight (b.c)

hello!! it's been an extremely long time since i've posted any fics on here (or written them)! but i finally got the inspiration to write one for our lovely chris 🤭 i saw a tik tok from the new album intro and came up with this idea. i hope you all like it 🥰

feedback is greatly appreciated 🥰

It's about the fourth time in an hour that Chris has checked his phone, the frown on his lips staying there as there's still no texts from you. He releases a sigh before attempting to refocus on the task at hand; recording.

The two of you have been in an argument for the past two days. Longest time the two of you have spent angry at one another. You didn't argue often, so Chris is becoming a bit panicked when you don't text him on the third day.

“Hyung,” Changbin's voice snaps Chris from his thoughts, turning in his chair to face the younger member. “Is everything okay? I've never seen you this spaced out.”

Chris provides a fake smile, going to reassure him that everything is okay when his phone vibrates. He picks it up immediately, his heart dropping a bit when it's not you. He swipes away the notification without any thought, not really in the mood to converse with anyone.

“I'm okay, I guess,” he mumbles, setting his phone back on the desk. “Uhm, Y/N and I had an argument three days ago and…” Chris trails off, biting his lip to stop himself from crying.

“Have you tried calling?” Changbin asks, motioning for the other staff to give them a minute alone.

Chris blankly stares at the computer screen, moving the mouse around idly. “I get sent to voicemail,” he tells Changbin, not moving his gaze once.

“I'll try calling. This can't go on any longer. You can't work like this,” Changbin sighs, standing up from the couch. The younger member pulls his phone out of his pocket, finding your contact before calling your number.

Chris can hear the phone ringing, his heart beginning to beat a million miles a minute in his chest.

“Bin?” Your voice comes through the receiver, causing Chris to gasp lightly. He finally looks over towards Changbin, seeing him hold his phone out.

Take the phone. He motions, holding the device out to him. Chris hesitantly takes the phone as you continue to call out for Changbin.

“Y/N?” Chris calls out your name just after Changbin leaves the studio. He can hear your breath hitch at the sound of his voice, and he begins to think you might hang up. “B-Before you hang up… can we talk? Please?”

Silence fills the space as he waits for your reply. He swallows the lump in his throat, wondering if he's fucked up one of the good things in his hectic life.

“I'm really sorry, y'know? I've always had the habit of keeping shit to myself. You can ask the guys,” he starts to apologize, staring at your contact name. “I was doing really well on keeping you in tabs of everything, but these past few weeks have been pretty stressful. And, I know that's not a great excuse, but being cooped up in the studio hours on end has brought me back to my old ways. I should've told you what's been going on, but I promise, if you don't leave me that I'll change. I don't want to lose you.”

His heart is in his throat as he waits for you to say something, anything. When he hears you start to cry, his first instinct is for him to run to your apartment. “Baby–”

“How are you so perfect?” You whisper loud enough for him to hear. You sniffle and clear your throat before speaking again. “I should be so mad at you, Chris. But, you– you make it impossible to stay mad.”

“I'm sorry?” He mumbles, furrowing his brows in confusion.

A chuckle comes from your end, and his heart skips a beat. “It's okay. Uhm, are you busy? Is it okay if I come to you, or,” You offer to meet up, making Chris's heart race.

“Y-Yeah, no, yeah, you can come by. I'll let the front desk know. Text me when you get here?” He asks, a smile coming to his lips for the first time in three days.

“Of course, handsome. I'll see you soon, okay?” You reassure him.

~

You're nervous as you walk into the JYP building. You know everything's going to turn out okay, but for some reason, the nausea is still there. The receptionist clears you through, and you step into the elevator. After pressing the button for the floor Chris is on, you decided to take some deep breaths.

Your phone vibrates in your hand, seeing a single heart emoji text from Chris. Your heart flutters in your chest, beginning to believe that everything will be alright. The door to the elevator opens up, and you step out, walking in the familiar direction of the studio they're using.

When you round the corner to go down the slim hallway, you find Chris standing at the studio door. You stop in place, meeting his dark eyes. The first thing you notice is the bags under his eyes. A frown comes to your lips at how exhausted he looks.

“Baby,” you mumble and start walking towards him.

“You look good,” Chris smiles at you, his eyes a little glossy. “I missed you so much.”

Both of you wrap your arms around one another, embracing tightly. You tightly grip the shirt he's wearing as he takes in the scent of your perfume.

“I missed you, too, baby,” you sigh, combing your fingers through his hair with your free hand.

Chris holds on to you as if you'll disappear once he lets go. He moves both of you into the studio before shutting the door, giving you some privacy.

You pull away from him, keeping your hands on his forearms as you look back up at him. “Everything's gonna be okay, okay?” You reassure him, gently stroking his arms.

He nods his head, clearing his throat before wrapping you up in his arms again. “I honestly thought that this was the end, y'know?” He mumbles into your neck, kissing the skin lightly.

“I'm in love with you, Chris. I don't ever want this to end,” you tell him while massaging the back of his head.

His hands slip under the hoodie you're wearing, a breathy sigh leaving his lips at the feeling of your soft skin. You bring your hands to his face, making him look at you before your lips meet his.

Chris moans into the kiss, his grip on your waist tightening. “God,” he mumbles, pulling away for a quick second. He reconnects his lips to yours, putting some more passion into the kiss. “I love you.”

You can't help but giggle, resting your forehead against his. “You make me feel like I've got a high school crush, you know that?” You ask him while placing one of your hands to your chest, feeling how fast your heartbeat is.

“I feel the same about you, baby,” he grins, dimples on full display. Chris grabs a hold of your hands as silence fills the room. He intertwines your fingers, keeping his gaze on them.

“You okay, baby?” You ask him quietly, squeezing his hands. “Talk to me.”

He lifts his head, the smile still there, and he nods. “I'm okay. I'm just– really happy that you're back and that we're okay,” he releases a deep breath, bringing your hands to his lips, peppering the backs of them in kisses.

“I'm afraid you're stuck with me,” you joke with him.

“I wouldn't want it any other way, baby,” Chris pulls you close to him, capturing your lips in another kiss.

~

tagging: @strawboorybunny @reddesert-healourblues @spacegirlstuff @like-a-diamondinthesky @prettymiye0n @foxinnie8

[roosterforme]

Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 19 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: With an uncertain future, Bradley gets ready to leave for Virginia. But he works on a plan to make sure you understand just how much he will be thinking about you.

Warnings: Fluff, smut, angst, adult banter, desperate Bradley, 18+

Length: 5400 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader

Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist

Bradley felt sick to his stomach as soon as he saw the stationery set. At this point, the only thing on his mind was quitting his job so the two of you didn't have to be separated. The paper looked expensive; he would have loved to sit in his bunk and write line after line to you and your class, but he wouldn't be able to do that at all. 

"We can go back to being pen pals for a bit," you whispered, your hand coming to rest on his thigh, giving him a little squeeze. "I'll be refreshing my email inbox and waiting not so patiently for my mail to arrive. It'll be great. That's how I fell in love with you in the first place."

He felt guilty even though he had no control over the scenario. His heart hurt with loneliness already as he set the gift you gave him on the coffee table and buried his face in his hands. "Gorgeous. That's not gonna happen." He swallowed past the lump in his throat and turned to look at you out of the corner of his eye.

"I'm confused," you said, hand still on his leg. He covered your fingers with his rougher ones and pulled gently until you climbed onto his lap. 

"Oh, god," he groaned, giving you a kiss before linking his fingers with yours. "I love that set of note cards. I would have taken them with me everywhere during my free time, and I would have written to your class constantly. And you would have been the recipient of some rambling love notes to be sure." Your brow was still creased with concern as he said, "No outside communication. For seven weeks."

Your expression went slack as a single tear rolled down your cheek. "You're joking."

"I'm not."

Bradley held onto your fingers as you whispered, "This keeps getting worse," through more tears. Your broken voice made his chest ache as you leaned closer until your cheek was resting on his shoulder. "I could go ages without you in person, but if I can't talk to you at all... Bradley."

Nobody else ever loved him the way you did. He'd be miserable without your letters, emails, dirty pictures and pretty face over video calls, but he finally had someone who would miss him equally. 

"I know," he muttered, wrapping his arms around you. "It's seven weeks of nothing."

You were crying in earnest now as you clung to him. "Nothing," you sobbed. "I won't even know if I'm supposed to collect you in San Diego or Norfolk when your deployment ends. And I won't know where you're being stationed."

"Fuck," he gasped. "Gorgeous, when I tell you that nobody would have much cared where I ended up before I met you, I mean it." He kissed you as you snuggled tighter against him. "As soon as I find out what's going on, I'll let you know."

"Seriously," you murmured, voice shaky. "You better tell me as soon as possible if it's San Diego or Norfolk in my future."

Bradley didn't know what else to say besides, "I fucking love you." He smiled for the first time in what felt like weeks as he added, "Are you really going to fly out to Norfolk and collect me if they make me stay in Virginia?"

You pulled away from him, eyes puffy with a scandalized look on your face as you said, "Of course. What kind of girlfriend do you think I am?"

The kind he was going to upgrade to his wife.

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

When you finally stopped crying, you were on the verge of a migraine, but you felt a bit calmer. Bradley got up to gather together some Advil, a glass of water, and a small gift wrapped in hideous paper.

"Your early Christmas present," he said, handing it to you after you swallowed two pills for your headache. "Well, it's actually kind of another gift for me, when you really think about it." He dropped down onto the couch again with his arm slung around your shoulders, and unlike him, you tore into the paper. Inside was a leather journal with little hand painted airplanes all over it. "Will you write in it every day so I can read it when I see you again?"

When you opened it to the first page, he had written you a note.

Gorgeous, I miss you with my whole heart. I can't wait to read about all of your adventures when I get home to you. Love, Bradley

"Yes," you whispered, closing it again so you could wrap your arms around his waist. "It'll just be a bunch of pages of me telling you how I argued with Jayden about his sloppy handwriting and how I asked Nia a hundred times to return to her seat. But yes, I'll write in it every day for you."

"I will eat up every page."

After that, he kept you by his side for the rest of the night. Even when you tried to dig around in the refrigerator to see if there was any food left, he was grabbing for you and kissing you. "You have no food," you said with a laugh, turning to face him. "What are we eating for dinner?"

"Hadn't thought that far," he muttered against your lips. "Just want you."

You took his face in your hands and ran your thumb along his scars. "If you don't eat, you'll get cranky. And you've got aircraft carrier food in your future."

Bradley grimaced and muttered, "Cabbage rolls," as he reached for his phone. "Let's get pizza today. And then maybe I'll try to talk the hostess at Salvatore's into letting us get takeout tomorrow. Then Thai on Christmas."

"And then you'll be gone," you whispered, dreading it all over again. "It never gets any easier, does it?"

"You're stuck with me, Gorgeous," he said, voice tinged with the tiniest bit of apprehension.

"I am." You kissed him before you said, "Pizza sounds perfect. Then I can help you pack a little more."

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

The last thing Bradley wanted to do was finish packing his duffle, but every time you looked up at him, eyes full of emotion, he was struck by several things. One, you really were so good at folding up his uniform components, something he noticed a few days ago. Two, every minute or so, you wrapped your arms around him, which made leaving with uncertainty so much harder. And three, you were absolutely nothing like Vanessa. 

Last time when he packed to leave, he was treated to her incessant whining over the fact that he didn't want to take her out to dinner. She was always annoyed with him wanting a quiet night in. She was always annoyed by his job. It was so obvious that she never missed him or loved him the way you did as he watched you carefully fold one of his flight suits before tucking it in his bag. 

"Gorgeous," he murmured, and as soon as your gaze met his, you had your arms wrapped around him again.

"That's enough for the night," you whispered, voice thick with emotion as he kissed the top of your head. Your face was pressed against his chest, and he could hear you trying to keep yourself calm. And god, he hated doing this to both of you. 

"I agree," he replied, keeping you close while he tossed a few novels he'd been meaning to read in as well. He'd have plenty of time to read a whole stack.

You wiped your eyes on his shirt as you said, "Make sure you read at night and stay away from all the women."

Bradley tipped your chin up so you were looking at him again. "Surely you're not worried about that." You shook your head. "Good. But now that we're on the topic... be a good girl and don't talk to horny assholes."

You started laughing as you slipped out of his grasp, wiping at your tears as you said, "Never. Now let me add one more thing to your bag." As you disappeared from the bedroom, Bradley put his bag on the top of his dresser. If he had time, he would move some of his clothing around so you had room for your things when your lease was up. Otherwise you were going to have to fend for yourself in his house and just make decisions for him. If he just had more time with you, everything would be easier. The one promising thing would be returning in time for Valentine's Day and Career Day at your school. If he was allowed to come back to San Diego at all.

"Fuck," he groaned, hating this unsettled feeling that was expanding in his chest, but as soon as you walked back in, he started to feel better. Seven weeks without you was going to be painful when he had such a visceral reaction to your touch and your words.

"Just in case you feel like jotting down your own thoughts every day for me to read," you said before tucking the stationery kit in next to his uniforms. You slid a large envelope that looked like it was bursting at the seams inside as well and simply said, "Some more reading material for you," before pulling him toward the bed.

And that's when Bradley figured out just how to make you feel a little less alone when he was in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean.

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

When you opened your eyes on Christmas Eve, you were already smiling. Your body was warm and tucked up against Bradley's, his big, heavy arm draped over you as he snored softly. You wanted to stay here and not move a muscle, because right now, everything was perfect. You could pretend like his duffle bag wasn't sitting on his dresser, mostly packed and ready to go. You could melt into the sweet ache deep inside from the hour he spent loving your body last night. You could close your eyes and go back to sleep.

Bradley's phone vibrated on his nightstand, and he groaned next to your ear. "Baby," he murmured, lips grazing your neck. "Don't get up yet."

You couldn't help but smile. "Your phone is vibrating. Not mine."

"Shit," he grunted, rolling away from you. Once he looked at his phone screen he seemed to wake up. "Nat's on her way to pick you up for girls' day."

"What are you talking about?"

You definitely hadn't planned a girls' day. Why would you want to miss out on any time with Bradley right now? You could have a day with Nat next week or next month when he was gone!

He had a little smile on his face as he pulled you close again for a kiss. "You better get dressed."

"Bradley! I'm not going out with Nat. You're leaving in two days!"

Naked and spectacular, he climbed out of bed and stretched. "Just for a bit. She wants to take you to get coffee, and if she tries to get me a Christmas present, I need you to make sure it doesn't suck." 

"You planned this," you said, annoyed as he reached for you, pulling you away from the bed where you could pretend there was no scary uncertainty in your future.

"Just trust me," he whispered, holding you close. "Besides, I need some time to sweet talk someone at Salvatore's into letting me order dinner to-go."

You could handle an hour or two with his best friend while you counted down the time you had left before his flight out of San Diego. "Fine, but I'm wearing your sweatshirt, and I'll be thinking about you the whole time."

Bradley sent you down the walkway with a kiss, and he waved from the front door in just his underwear as you climbed into his best friend's car. "I won't keep you out too long," Natasha promised with a smirk. "I can already tell you want to get back to him."

"Why did he plan this?" you asked, wanting the answers he wouldn't give you while trying not to be rude. "No offense, because I would love to spend an entire girls' day with you, but why today?"

She simply turned up the Christmas songs on the radio and headed toward Starbucks with a smile on her face. "I was thinking after coffee we could hit up the mall for a few minutes? I need to find something truly awful to get for Bradley. I'm thinking some pink running shorts to match mine. High visibility colors are very important when you're out running, and I just don't think he fully appreciates that."

You laughed. "If you buy them, he'll probably just wear them to try to embarrass you."

"I don't embarrass easily," she said smoothly with a devilish grin. "And dare I say you might like to pick out a little something that you could wear as a going away treat?"

"Wear?" you asked before you quite knew what she meant.

"Sure. I mean, I don't want to know any specifics about what the two of you get up to, because gross, but deployments are long and lonely, and you're definitely going to miss each other."

While Bradley had seen all of your cutest underwear at this point, you'd never worn anything that you bought specifically with him in mind. Your cheeks grew warm as you thought about it. Truthfully you didn't even own anything terribly sexy. 

"What would he even like?" you asked softly as she pulled into the Starbucks parking lot.

"On you?" she asked with a laugh. "Anything. Don't worry, we'll find something good."

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

When Natasha texted to inform him that you were on your way back to his house, Bradley quickly hid everything that had been out on his coffee table while he juggled his phone. The woman he was talking to on speakerphone wasn't falling for his lines at all.

"Listen," he told her, making sure there was no visible evidence of what he'd done in his living room. "I just really want tonight to be special for my girlfriend and I before I leave for my next deployment. Just one order of spaghetti and meatballs? That's all I'm asking."

There was a deep sigh followed by, "Be here promptly at 5:00 to pick it up. I'll take your credit card over the phone."

"Perfect," he replied with a smile, digging for his wallet. "The name is Bradley Bradshaw."

You walked in with shopping bags in your arms, and rushed toward him as he finished giving his credit card security code, and he pulled you in for a hug as he reassured the hostess from Salvatore's that he would be there at 5:00.

"Hi," he said, kissing you after he ended the call. "Did you have fun with Nat?

"So much fun," you told him with a smile. "We're going to try out a wine bar next week up in Oceanside." The idea of you hanging out with his friend while he was away made him feel calm, especially since Nat knew how important you were to him. "Also," you said, pressing your lips together nervously, "I think I'd like to sleep here for the rest of my winter break." Your volume dropped to a whisper. "I'm not sure if it will make me miss you more or less, but I want to be here if that's okay with you."

"I love that, Gorgeous," he replied easily. Hanging out with Natasha and then returning to his house where you belonged anyway felt right to him. "Knowing you're sleeping in my bed might result in some dirty notes from me," he said with a laugh as you bit your lip.

"Please," you whispered. "Yes. Write me dirty notes to read when you get back." Just when he was about to kiss you, he watched you bend and rummage around in a bag. "Also, this is your gift from Natasha." You handed him some bright pink fabric that he turned around in his hands, trying to figure out what it was. "And she told me to hold up the gift receipt for you."

When he finally figured out that it was a pair of ladies running shorts, he grimaced. "She's so annoying," he groaned, reaching for the gift receipt, but you quickly chuckled and tore it up. "What are you doing?"

"You're not allowed to return them." You dropped the bits of paper, and he tossed the shorts onto the couch.

"Whose side are you on here?" he asked, peppering your face with kisses. "Don't think for a second I won't just put a jock strap on and run in those shorts."

"I tried to tell her you would," you laughed as he scooped you up. "I kind of want to see it."

"Play your cards right," he murmured, grabbing his keys and taking you out to his Bronco. "Let's pick up dinner."

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

Your belly was full of spaghetti and meatballs when you managed to sneak away to the tiny laundry room and quickly hand wash your new bra and thong set while Bradley loaded the dishwasher. Nat assured you that he would enjoy this tiny thing, and you were trusting her here. You set both items aside to dry before walking back out to the kitchen.

"You don't have a Christmas tree," you remarked, wishing you'd picked one up today from one of the many parking lots trying to unload them at the last minute.

"I told you I don't really celebrate holidays."

"You're doing a great job of celebrating this one."

He washed his hands and tossed the towel aside. It was barely seven o'clock, but he asked, "You feel like calling it an early night?" You agreed, ready to feel his warmth along your entire body as you fell asleep.

You got undressed and climbed in bed, and he did the same. Bradley's hands were everywhere, but his lips were gentle on your neck and shoulder as he whispered your name. "I love you. It's going to kill me inside when I can't talk to my favorite pen pal. Last time, you had my heart pounding every time you sent me a new email."

Tears stung your eyes in the darkness; you'd done a pretty good job of holding it together all day, but this was going to be your undoing. "I promise, every time you think about me, I'll already be thinking about you, too."

Bradley's arm tightened around you, his thumb stroking your skin, soothing you along with his sweet words as you fell asleep.

When you woke up on Christmas Day, his body was still right behind yours where he belonged, but when you rolled over to look at his handsome face, you knew the hours were going to go by too quickly. "Morning, Gorgeous," he murmured, voice raspy from sleep as he cracked his eyes open. "Let's go see what Santa brought."

You didn't have any other gifts for him, unless you counted your new lingerie which you were saving for later after dinner. And the printer you bought so he could have some photos of you without his phone on the aircraft carrier. But when you got out to the living room, there was an envelope on the coffee table.

"What is it?" you asked cautiously as you picked it up. But your heart melted immediately. It was a gift card for the wine bar in Oceanside.

"There's enough on there for you and Nat to take a few trips up if you like the place."

"The two of you have been plotting, I see," you remarked, taking a deep breath before snuggling up against his chest. "But nothing will beat the horribly expensive bottle of wine I accidentally made you buy on our second date."

Deep laughter rumbled through Bradley's chest as he said, "The look on your face just made me love you more." You groaned thinking about it. "Come on, we've only got one day left and then seven weeks of nothing. Let's make French toast and have sex on the couch and eat Thai food and watch movies."

You wore his sweatshirt around all day, licked maple syrup from his lip and rode him until he was whining for you. The Thai noodles went perfectly with Home Alone. Then you took a shower together and deep conditioned his hair, dragging your nails along his scalp until his eyes closed.

"I'm going to miss this," he whispered after every single thing you did. When you toweled his hair dry, he looked at you with so much emotion. "I'm going to call you as soon as I know what's going on with the Pacific versus Atlantic Fleet. And either way, I'll try to be as patient as I possibly can, but I can't live without you, Baby."

"Bradley."

"Shit. Even the way you say my name makes me ache."

"I want you here with me. I already hate this." A sob escaped your lips without warning. "I want you to come back for Career Day."

The words were barely out of your mouth before he said, "I will be here for Career Day no matter what. Disappointing you is bad enough, but I don't want the eighteen kiddos to miss out on spending the day with their favorite Naval officer."

You laughed. "You're not disappointing me, Bradley. This is just hard, because I love you so much."

If you couldn't see a future with him, this would have been easier. He set you down on the bathroom vanity, and you watched him carefully shave around his mustache, kissing you randomly so you had to wipe shaving cream from your nose, and then he started collecting his toiletries for his duffle bag. He was naked and perfect as you stayed huddled in your towel, wondering if you could even manage to pull off wearing the items that were surely dry now and draped over his laundry room sink.

"Where are you going?" he asked as you ducked past him toward the door.

"Meet me in bed."

You rushed down the hallway and threw your towel in the empty washing machine as you took a minute to touch the pretty lace fabric before sliding the thong up your legs. Next you hooked the bra in place, and it didn't matter if you didn't look perfect, because you felt good. And you wanted him to have this memory.

When you cautiously strolled into the bedroom, Bradley was still naked, laying on top of the bedding, looking at a small piece of paper. "I'm just double checking my packing list, and I..." His gaze shifted to your body, and you did a little turn for him. The paper drifted to the floor as he sat up, his hand coming to rest on his cock. "Come here."

Biting your lip, you did as you were told. Bradley's feet swung over the edge of the bed, coming to rest on the floor as his cock bobbed between his thick thighs. "Here I am," you whispered, standing between his knees with your hands on his shoulders. "Your going away gift."

One strong arm wrapped around you, and you squeaked as he pulled you flush against him. He kissed the rounded tops of your breasts above your new bra, one after the other before looking up at you. "What did I do to deserve this?" he rasped, his nose running along the lace as his fingers tangled in your thong.

Already so turned on, you tried to answer him twice before words came out. "I wanted to give you a proper send off. Something extra special." Then he kissed your furled nipples through the flimsy bra cups and you moaned, "Something to think about when you're lonely."

His fingers were digging into your butt as he grunted. His wide brown eyes were fixed on your face as he parted his lips and sucked on your breast, the black lace wet everywhere now. He was being a little rough, but it felt like he was worshipping you at the same time, and when his lip found your neck, he asked, "Is this little getup new?"

"I bought it yesterday," you gasped as his fingers slipped inside your thong, stroking your wet pussy. "Just for you."

Then you were on your back with your head on the pillow, Bradley's heavy cock resting against your thigh as he hovered over you. "Just for me, huh?" he grunted, biceps flexed as he fought to keep his breathing under control.

You nodded, running your toes up along his calf and thigh until your leg was hooked around his hip, ready to give him whatever he wanted. "Of course it's just for you. I'll wear it again when we meet back in the San Diego airport or in Norfolk. And I'll wear it when you're away and I'm touching myself."

"Fuck," he growled, pulling your panties to the side and running his cock through your wetness before pushing himself so deep inside you that it took your breath away. When you whimpered, his lips crashed against yours as his hands dug beneath you to unhook your bra. "Touch yourself right now." When the flimsy lace ended up on the floor while Bradley fucked you, he guided your right hand to his lips, kissing your fingertips before placing them on your breast. "I want to watch."

Bradley's pupils were wide, lips parted. When you looked down your body as his cock disappeared inside you over and over again, you felt even more turned on. When you ran your fingers along your nipple and up between your bouncing breasts, his eyes followed your every move. "Like this?" you asked, feeling bold as you added your left hand as well.

He gave you a harder thrust. "Exactly like that, Gorgeous. And what are you going to think about when you do?"

"My boyfriend," you managed before his mouth met yours in a deep kiss that only lasted a few seconds. "I'm going to think about my boyfriend. I'll miss you so much."

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

Bradley's hips slowed to a gentler pace as he listened to you gasping and panting beneath him. There was no way you'd miss him as much as he'd miss you. He closed his eyes and thought about returning home to your arms in seven weeks and heading back to work in the Pacific Fleet. He hoped you'd appreciate the little surprises he was leaving behind for you. More than anything he wanted you to think about tonight when you got yourself off.

His rough excitement at you in the new lingerie melted into something sweeter as he fucked you with long, languid strokes. Your lips were on his neck and collarbones as he whispered how much he loved you over and over. When you came, it escalated quickly, sudden and loud as he ran his thumb across your clip. He couldn't hold on after that, and he let your body hold him in place with soft squeezes as he caught his breath.

"I have one more thing for you to pack," you whispered, voice ragged as you ran your fingers through his hair.

"I really hope you fit in my duffle," he mused, and you laughed softly.

You kissed his ear and whispered, "I bought a small photo printer since you won't be able to use your phone." He shivered at your words. "You can print out a photo or two of us together... or maybe you want to take a new one right now to print out?"

"Jesus," he grunted, kissing your lips. "You're spoiling me." He reached for his phone on the nightstand and snapped a few pictures of your fucked out face and your body with his cock still buried deep. "I am very spoiled."

When you stood and plugged in the printer with lips puffy from his mustache in just your thong, he couldn't keep his hands off you. He had his photo gallery open on his phone and his arm around your waist as he selected the picture you sent him ages ago with the sun setting behind you. "This one is an absolute necessity. So is this one of us together. I don't think I should take any with me where you're naked, just to be safe," he mused, and you threw your arms around him.

"You'll just have to use your imagination," you told him as the photos printed.

"That'll be easy with this fresh in my mind," he murmured, looking down at your tits pressed to his chest. "I'll be thinking about you nonstop."

Bradley's hold on your body was unrelenting as he dropped the photos into his duffle and led you back to bed. It was getting late, and his flight to Virginia was early. You snuggled up on his chest with a soft smile on your lips. "I hope you do. I hope you think about me constantly and write me notes."

He kissed your forehead. "Not just you... your whole class. Have to keep them interested in aviation. But you're my favorite pen pal."

You laughed and buried your face against his neck, and he could feel your breathing grow a little more ragged as you whispered, "I love you so much. Just be safe. I don't really care if we have to figure out long distance or relocation as long as you're safe, Bradley."

That's how he fell asleep, wrapped up in your arms with your sweet sentiments in his ear. And the next morning, when his alarm went off, he welcomed your tears, because they made him feel like he was important to a woman for the first time in his life. You cried softly as you sat on his lap and went over his packing list with him one more time, and your cheeks were wet as you kissed him.

Bradley let you button up his khaki uniform shirt for him, your fingers shaking as you smoothed down the fabric along his chest. "Thank you, Gorgeous," he whispered, watching helplessly as your face crumbled into more tears.

When he drove the Bronco to the airport, your fingers were linked with his in the silence as the light from the rising sun hit the buildings downtown, promising to bring another perfect day to southern California. His hand tightened around yours, knowing he was going to be flying into so much uncertainty. His voice sounded strangled to his own ears as he parked at the curb under the signage for departing flights. "This is it. I'll text and call you as much as I can when I land before they lock me down, but this is it for seven weeks."

You crawled onto his lap, holding him tight as he kissed you, and now his tears mingled with yours. "I love you, Bradley," you promised, and he believed you as he held you in his arms and climbed down onto the pavement. He pulled his duffle from the backseat and dropped it to the curb as he held you against him, unwilling to leave before he told you a few more things.

"I'll keep myself safe, but you need to do the same. If you need something, you call Natasha right away, okay?" You nodded against him, your fingers digging into his shoulder blades. "My stuff is your stuff, so do whatever you want at the house and with my Bronco. And tell me you love me every day in the journal so I can read about it when I see you."

"I will," you sobbed as he finally set you down. "And I'll be waiting to hear you tell me if it's San Diego or Norfolk."

He swiped your tears away from your cheeks and kissed you one last time before he picked up his bag and headed for the door. When he turned back one last time, you were clutching his car keys and crying. "I love you, Gorgeous."

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

We'll see how they manage apart. I think she might do a bit better than Bradley will. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 20

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[planetveensz]

RETRIBUTION — vi (arcane)

— you are pitfighter!vi’s newest devistating lesbian situationship. tw: fem!r, angst, sapphic longing, sapphic heartbreak, mentions of drinking/alcohol/being drunk, mentions of sex (mdni 18+), lowercase intended i'm a sadboy rn, wk 1.4k, art cred an: act two hurt me bad guys, had to take a breath and sit down to write out my feelings. please send any trauma response ideas or otherwise if you have them, i needa write this pain out fr. (i listened to vampire empire by big theif while writing this)

you’re jerked from sleep by a loud pounding behind your door.

blood turning to ice, a trickle of fear runs down your spine as your heartbeat picks up. the banging begins again, a loud rapping so violent you imagine the wood of your door bending from its force. you slide out of bed as quietly as you can; avoiding the weak, creaking spots on your floor.

you pick up the bat placed next to the threshold of your front door, fingers sliding up the handle as you inch towards the door knob. there are another three booming knocks that make you jump back with a small ‘eep!’ before gaining up the courage to rip the door open. other hand reaching to grip the bat handle, you raise it above your head, prepared to strike.

you don’t.

violet wobbles in your doorframe, a sly smile creeping on her lips when she sees your vicious state. “hey, sweetheart,” she croons, stumbling to the side and barely catching herself on the trim of your entryway.

great. she’s belligerent.

“vi,” you say her name like a statement, “what are you doing here?”

you met vi months ago, amidst the beginning of her winning streak in the pit. she spotted you on the dancefloor adjacent to the bar she frequented after her fights. she’d approached you with one thing in mind. the sex was amazing, passionate and fiery, it would have been perfect if she didn’t keep calling you by someone else's name.

“‘cmon, sweetie, don’ be like that,” she slurs, “i missed you.” you roll your eyes, but can’t help the fond smile that responds to her words. you'd kept seeing her after that first night despite every red flag, showing up at her matches just so that she could find you again. you cherished every drunken night with her.

you knew what you were doing was going to get you hurt in the end, but you supposed you just didn't care. and it wasn’t just the sex, there was something else about her that you couldn’t ignore.

among the moments of intense lust, you saw her for what she truly was. lonely. broken, sad. kind.

rubbing at your forehead, you sigh, then step aside so that she can make her way into your apartment. “i thought you said we couldn’t see each other anymore.” you tell her, manipulating your voice into a teasing lilt, but silently begging her to say what you wanted to hear. she slips past you and inside your home like she has dozens of times before.

“you know that was bullshit,” she laughs drunkenly, “i can’t stay away from you.” she says it matter-a-factly, like it is something well-known and studied. you scoff, disbelief sinking into your gut.

some nights when you ended up together, long after you first entangled, instead of sex, you would listen to her drunken rambling. while you attempted to feed her grilled cheese sandwiches and water to soak up the alcohol in her stomach, she would reveal things to you that stunned you into silence.

her father, her sister, mylo and claggor. silco, the lanes, her time in stillwater, she told you all of it. when her name — caitlyn’s name — first tumbled out of her mouth, you nearly vomited. that is what she had been calling you the first few times you hooked up. “caitlyn,” she’d whisper it into your collarbone, murmur it against your breast.

you couldn’t see her for a couple weeks after that revelation, avoiding the bar, the pit, wallowing in your self-pity. it didn’t last long. she’d shown up, much like this, begging for you to tell her what she’d done wrong. tears streaming down her cheeks as she sunk to her knees in front of you.

you just couldn’t abandon her after that night, no matter what she did. it didn’t matter anymore what she’d call you or what she wanted from you, the empathy you had for this suffering person overtook any self-preserving thoughts you had.

she was going to break your heart. you accepted it.

vi flops onto your beaten couch, laying her arms along the cushions and tipping her head back until she’s staring at your ceiling. the last time she was here it was more than three weeks ago, the longest you’d gone without her since you met her. she’d told you that she couldn’t see you any longer; your time with her was up.

you guessed it had something to do with how close you two had gotten, emotionally. not only were you discovering every way to make each other shiver in bed, you were also exploring each other's deepest thoughts and highest dreams.

your heart races in your chest as you settle yourself next to her on the couch. she lazily turns her head to set her eyes on you, the glimmering gray of her irises makes every emotion for her you’ve tried to dissolve come flooding back. “you’re so pretty,” she whispers.

you immediately feel sick, wondering if she’s having another hallucination of caitlyn. how had you gotten into this mess, fallen so deeply into the chasm that is violet’s grasp? you turn your head away from her, resting your cheek on your shoulder while you contemplate your next move.

she says your name, your name, with such clarity it shocks you. you whip your head back around to see her leaning forward, looking at you with a sobriety you haven’t seen from her before. then she kisses you.

you melt into it, allowing her to pull you against her, on top of her lap and into her arms. you sigh, it feels like coming home. she’s gentle with you, cradling and stroking your neck and arms. you sag into her.

her pouty lips are soft and warm, her tongue swipes along your bottom lip and a shudder runs down your back. when you open your mouth for her, it’s heaven.

it’s retribution.

you pull back, stumbling over your feet as you remove yourself from her lap. her chest is heaving, and you catch yourself watching her ab muscles clench with every breath. you scrub your forehead.

“this is wrong,” you say.

“what?” she scoffs a laugh, “baby—”

“this is wrong and you know it.” your voice cracks, the emotion you’ve been shoving down all these months finally coming back to suffocate you. “you’re in love with her.”

violet flinches.

“you’re in love with her, not me, and i—” a sob leaves your throat, “i’m falling in love with you and i can’t keep sacrificing myself for-for this.” you gesture between the two of you. “it’s not enough.”

“you—” vi starts, standing to meet you, “you—i can’t lose you, too.” you can see her own tears forming in her eyes. “please. i can’t.” the desperation in her voice is unparalleled, you've never heard her so emotional.

the dam breaks. you fall into her arms, wrapping yourself around her neck as you cry into each other’s shoulders. you both crumple to the floor, she is gripping you like you’re her salvation. neither of you say anything.

time passes and she falls asleep in your hold; you eventually heave her onto the couch. tucking her in with a spare pillow and blanket, you watch for a few silent moments as she peacefully breathes in her sleep.

a thought crosses your mind, maybe you could lay down next to her for the night, but you shake it away with surprising willpower. leaning above her, you press a longing kiss against her temple and squeeze your eyes shut. a murmur leaves her lips, it sounds a lot like your name.

when violet wakes her head is pounding in retaliation for how much she drank the previous night. a groan leaves her lips and her eyes flutter open as memories come streaming back to her. she gasps, sitting up too quickly. ignoring the way her stomach turns, she glances around your empty apartment.

she finds you sleeping in your room, curled up in bed, snoozing quietly. her heart clenches. she knows that you deserve better than what she's been giving you, she knows how much damage your heart has taken the last few months. she’s like a parasite, draining you of all the affection she needs and in return inflicting you with the illness that comes with caring for her.

but she can’t make herself stay away.

she knows why, too. she just doesn't have the strength to admit it.

instead, she leans above you, pressing a longing kiss against your temple and taking a shuddering breath. she pulls away and watches as a murmur leaves your lips, her name.

she wipes the crippling onslaught of tears off her cheeks as she approaches your front door. muffling the sounds of her cries with a tight hand over her mouth, she leaves, gently shutting the door behind her.

© planetveensz 2024