#which is… still probably more than i can afford… but it was nice to know a cheap(ish) option exists

[yunwangja]

undercurrents | signal no. 18

masterlist

"this was such a good idea,"

alisa sighs contentedly, setting down her fork with a satisfied smile. kuroo mirrors her expression, nodding in agreement, though his mind drifts elsewhere.

inside, a war is raging. everything about this feels wrong, but it's the right thing to do. at least, that’s what he keeps telling himself.

he tries to maintain his composure, to focus on the woman in front of him, but beneath the surface, he’s being torn apart. it’s maddening - the frustration, confusion, and anger building up inside. emotions he knows he shouldn’t be feeling, not now, not here.

kuroo was brought up to be a "good" guy. make the people around you comfortable, give them a hand when they need to, and help bring out the best in them. he lived his whole life being the reliable, friendly guy that is ready to give you a push whenever you need him.

in his mind, it means he can’t afford to be selfish. it’s simple: if it makes others happy, it should make him happy too. and when he wants something for himself? well, he should bury that desire, deny it for the greater good. because that's his "role".

that's how he mastered the art of masking his own feelings, hiding behind a smile, always keeping things light and fun. anything to avoid ruining the peace, to avoid letting people see how conflicted he truly is. if he messes up, in his eyes, he’ll have failed. the tetsuro kuroo everyone knows and relies on would be gone.

he knows kenma can see through it. kenma’s always been his voice of reason, telling him it’s okay to be honest, to not always put himself last. but it’s no use. kuroo can’t afford to believe that - not when the cost of expressing his true feelings seems so high.

so, he convinces himself that this is for the best, even though he knows deep down that if he could, he’d treat you so much better. he’d hold you close, knowing you belonged there. just seeing you smile could melt all his troubles away, and even the slightest brush of your hand would send his heart racing.

to him, you are everything. beautiful, kind, funny, and passionate. but it’s more than that. something about you makes him weak in a way no one else ever has. you make him want to be selfish, to want you all for himself, no matter the consequences.

he’ll do anything for you - even if it means forgetting you. because that’s what he thinks you want. you don’t need him complicating things with his feelings, not when you like someone else, even if you call it a harmless crush. it’s ruining whatever you already have. so, he’ll keep this up.

alisa and kuroo continued to talk, and he tried his best to get to know more about alisa, outside being his project partner and classmate. all he knew about her was that she had a little brother who was also into volleyball, which sparked most of their conversations before. besides, he needed to distract himself from thinking about you.

honestly, he feels bad. this date is probably something you both just wanted to try out, but he can't help but feel like he's forcing himself to be here when alisa is genuinely great.

as they finish their dessert and wrap up the conversation, kuroo can’t help but feel a strange sense of accomplishment. he’s managed to put up the front, to act like everything’s fine. maybe if he does this enough, he’ll actually start to believe it. maybe, eventually, he’ll forget about you.

“i had a great time, alisa,” he says, turning to her with a small smile.

“this was a really nice date. i felt comfortable.” the lie slips out effortlessly, though he did genuinely enjoy getting to know her better.

alisa raises an eyebrow, her expression shifting to one of amused confusion. “wait, what?” she lets out a small laugh, “a date?”

kuroo tilts his head slightly, caught off guard. “yeah?”

she shakes her head, still smiling. “this wasn’t a date, kuroo.”

for a second, the words don’t register. then, when they do, he feels his stomach drop. holy shit. embarrassment rushes over him as he quickly tries to backtrack.

“oh god,” he mutters, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “i’m sorry.”

alisa’s expression softens, and she waves it off casually. “no, no. did i lead you on? i didn’t mean to. i’m sorry if i made it seem that way.”

kuroo shakes his head quickly. “no, it’s not your fault. i just misunderstood. honestly, at first, i didn’t think of you like that, but when you asked me out for coffee, i thought - well, maybe.”

alisa nods slowly, her expression apologetic. “i’m still sorry, though. i guess i should’ve been clearer when i asked.”

he shrugs it off, offering a weak smile. “it’s fine. really. i hope this doesn’t make things awkward.”

alisa shakes her head this time, "don't worry, as long as we're on the same page. you're a great guy yourself, kuroo." she smiles at him.

he returns the smile, but inside, his mind is racing. despite the embarrassment, a strange relief settles over him, washing away the tension he’s been carrying all evening. it feels wrong to be this relieved, almost like he’s betraying the plan he’d set for himself, but the truth is undeniable.

why is he relieved? all of a sudden, although he feels emotionally tired from all the torture he gave himself throughout today, it's like his inner self was screaming, thank God.

a wave of emotions crashes over him, sudden and overwhelming, as if the universe is trying to tell him something. like, this was a sign.

he freezes, the thought hitting him hard. it's absurd, reckless even. after everything he’s put himself through today, after all the mental battles and efforts to push you away, this would undo it all. it goes against every rational argument he’s made for why he should forget you.

but the relief flooding his chest is undeniable, drowning out the logic he’s clung to. it’s like a voice, quiet at first but growing louder, insistent, cutting through his doubt until it’s the only thing he can hear:

he loves you, and it's you who he wants to be with.

without another thought, kuroo stands abruptly, his chair scraping against the floor.

“thank you, alisa. i’m sorry again. but i have to go.”

"i want you, y/n."

his words echo in the quiet room, and for a moment, all you can do is stare, frozen in place. the intensity in kuroo’s eyes sends a shiver down your spine, and you’re not sure whether it’s the surprise or the weight of his confession that makes your heart race.

kuroo lets out a shaky breath, his voice raw. “i know you like tooru. and i know you’ve explained to me how you feel about him, how it’s always been. but even knowing all of that, i couldn’t stop wanting you.”

his gaze drops to the floor, as if he’s ashamed to admit it. “i kept telling myself that i didn’t have the right. that i shouldn’t want you. but no matter how hard i tried, i couldn’t help it. i just do.”

there’s a vulnerability in his tone that you’ve never heard before. kuroo, who’s always so composed, so confident, now stands in front of you, his emotions laid bare.

“i don’t know if you’ll hate me for this or if this will ruin everything between us, but i... i can’t stand on the sidelines anymore.”

his fists clench slightly at his sides, his voice almost breaking. “i’m tired of pretending i’m okay with it. tired of forcing a smile when all i want is something i convinced myself i couldn’t have.”

he steps closer to you, his eyes lifting to meet yours again, filled with something that leaves you breathless.

“from the day i saw you smile... i wanted you. even if that smile wasn’t for me.”

the room feels smaller, the air heavier, as you try to process everything he’s saying. a part of you wants to speak, to say something, but nothing comes out. instead, you find yourself moving without thinking - your arms wrapping around him, pulling him close.

kuroo stiffens for just a second, caught off guard by your hug. he doesn’t know what this meant, but in the midst of his confusion, his arms come around you slowly, holding you close, his fingers curling gently into the fabric of your shirt.

maybe she just missed me, he thinks. or maybe you felt touched by his confession. he tries to make sense of it by thinking that you were too happy to see him that you just weren’t able to control it. he’s been avoiding you lately, after all.

you glance over his shoulder, and there were your friends, peeking around the corner, smirking like they’ve been waiting for this moment all along. you pull back slightly from kuroo, cheeks burning, and clear your throat.

“come on,” you whisper, guiding him toward your room to escape their prying eyes. once inside, you close the door behind you, trying to ignore the heat that’s rising to your face.

the two of you sit on the edge of your bed, but there’s still a careful distance between you, an unspoken barrier that neither of you know how to cross just yet.

kuroo breaks the silence first, his voice hesitant. “so...”

you glance at him, your hands fidgeting nervously in your lap. you know you need to say something, but finding the right words feels impossible. after a moment, you take a deep breath and decide to start with the truth.

“you know about my last relationship, right?”

he nods silently, his eyes softening as he waits for you to continue.

“well… it scarred me. i decided after that… i didn’t want to fall in love again. i didn’t think i could be a good girlfriend, so i chose to just admire from afar instead.” you pause.

as you start to explain, kuroo starts to decipher what you’re trying to say. immediately, he thinks this would end up in a rejection. why would you say these things to him anyway?

despite this, he wants to listen to what you have to say. it’s not like he’s expecting you to like him back. you feel his gaze on you, unwavering, and it makes it both easier and harder to keep going.

“i told myself i didn’t deserve anyone. even more guys that i thought was out of my league. that was the case too when i liked tooru. it was safe... i knew nothing would come of it - the reason why i used to say i just wanted to be an ‘observer’.”

kuroo stays quiet, letting your words sink in. there’s no judgment in his eyes, just understanding.

“i did my best to run away from romantic feelings,” you admit quietly. “because i didn’t think i deserve to be in love anyway.”

there’s a pause, a heavy silence that settles between you. then kuroo speaks, his voice gentle but firm. “we both know that’s not true.”

“is it, though?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

kuroo shifts closer, his eyes locking onto yours. “do you really think i would’ve fallen in love with you if that was true?”

the question takes you by surprise, and you don’t know how to respond. “i... i don’t know,” you stammer, unsure.

he shakes his head slightly, his expression softening. “you didn’t need to be my girlfriend for me to see that you’re more than capable of being loved. you didn’t have to prove anything to me. i’ve always seen it. you’re perfect the way you are, y/n.”

his voice drops lower, filled with emotion, looking down. “i would’ve done anything just to call you mine.”

his words hit you like a tidal wave, and for a moment, you can’t do anything but stare at him. you can see the sincerity in his eyes, feel the truth behind every word he’s just said.

“kuroo,” you begin, your voice shaky. “i don’t like tooru anymore. i haven’t for a while now.”

his brow furrows, confusion flickering across his face. “but... i thought you guys were getting closer?”

you nod, a small, rueful smile on your lips. “we were, but only as friends, nothing more.”

kuroo’s eyes widen as realization dawns on him. tooru had been trying to push him toward you this whole time.

“kuroo,” you say again, gently pulling him out of his thoughts.

“yeah?” he replies, his voice a little unsteady.

“i know you just said you’re in love with me... but do you think i can?”

he tilts his head, eyes searching yours. “can you what?”

you hesitate for a moment, feeling your heart pound in your chest.

“can i fall in love with you too?”

kuroo’s eyes widen in shock, his body going rigid as he processes your words. for a moment, he’s completely still, his mouth opening slightly as if he’s searching for the right response. the room feels charged with the weight of your confession.

you watch as he takes a moment to absorb what you’ve just said. when he finally speaks, his voice is a whisper, filled with disbelief. “w-what?”

you give him a small, rueful smile, and continue, “you know, getting closer to tooru was because of you. he was also helping me figure things out.”

kuroo’s eyes widen further, a flicker of realization crossing his face. “because of me?”

you nod, your gaze steady. “yeah,"

the pieces start to fall into place for kuroo, and you can see the understanding dawn in his eyes. he takes a deep breath, his expression a mix of relief and intense emotion.

and then, in a swift, almost desperate movement, he reaches for you, pulling you close. his lips find yours with a kind of urgency that takes your breath away, the kiss filled with all the emotions he’s been holding back.

his hands frame your face gently, like he’s afraid you might disappear if he doesn’t hold on tight enough. you can feel the tension melt away, replaced by something warm and undeniable.

when you finally pull apart, both of you are breathless, your foreheads resting against each other. kuroo lets out a soft, almost disbelieving laugh, his thumb brushing gently against your cheek.

“of course,” he whispers, his voice hoarse.

“please do.”

and then, without missing a beat, he kisses you again.

notes

kuroo borrowed yn's phone and tweeted (and not because i didnt realize the plot hole immediately)

yn and kuroo sitting in a tree : D

this ends undercurrents OMGG UGHHKFSDHFKSDFS

i hope this was a good ending !!!!!

dw because a special chapter is coming !!! bc ik i'll miss this plus i want u guys to see sum yn and kuroo moments as a couple because WHY NOT

i'll properly conclude everything there !!

so technically its not officially done???

taglist: @lvtilzs @rarararararq @iamfontenlos @kurooswifeyy @secretsunsetsociety @kagsnumnine @yumiecheesecrackers @tojirin @jaynawayna @noxva08 @zahrawr-writes-fanfics @mawenskiblue @smellysluna @cccccccccccleo @winniethepooh-lover @akirqx @cupidsblonde @kukkurookkoo@emotiandon @urslytherin @mochroialainn @avis-writeshq @sorrynotsorrh @walllflowerrrsss @viva-vxgue @chifuzzy @mikaela26sstuff

[rigels-nigels]

Girl help I've acquired possibly yet another expensive hobby

[palms-upturned]

.

[deityofhearts]

rn I’m getting through life by romanticizing the idea of me living in a bigger city (not like. new york sized but like just one of our bigger neighboring cities) and working as a librarian or library assistant there or something and having a quiet simply life and a regular routine that I go about

[trivia-yandere]

dilemma

being single and broke on valentine's day is not what you expected - especially when your dealer is waiting for his payment. @momnomnom @sweetempathprunetree @darkuni63

word count: 4.063

warning: drug dealer yoongi, oral (m receiving), kissing, smut, praising, weed smoking, unprotected sex, dirty talking, cumshot,

valentine's day masterlist | part 2 (coming oct 14)

“Suga…” you murmur to the phone pressed to your ear. The sound of the shower is loud in the background as you wait for the water to turn hot. 

“Y/N.” the voice on the other side murmurs, voice deep and a little raspy. “You know you don’t have to call me that. I’ve known you for years now.”

You touch the water and hum. “I know. I like saying it, though.” you respond to the man on the other side. “I hope I didn’t interrupt you from anything. It is Valentine’s Day afterall.”

You hear a chuckle on the other side. “Nothing at all. I was just dozing off when you called.”

You lick your lips. You texted first, asking if he had your usual - nothing but an eighth of weed to hold you off. When he didn’t respond, you called.

You knew Yoongi way back from your High School years that then rolled into college and even now, as you worked at your big girl job. His product was good, affordable and he always threw deals for clientele such as yourself - loyal, as he calls them. There’s been times in which Yoongi would add extra to the bag he sold you just because.

“That’s sad. Figured a guy like you had someone to spend the day with him." The shower water is now hot. “I guess we’re both lonely on this holiday.”

You hear a grunt come from Yoongi. “I guess we are.” There’s silence for a moment from the both of you. “What do you suggest we do about that then?”

You lick your lips, your heart pumping at his sudden choice of words.

Another reason why you liked Yoongi - he always flirted back, no matter how subtle. You ponder if he was like this with all his clientele - but you understood that with you, he was. It never went past light flirting and lingering eyes, but it’s fun to engage with, nonetheless. 

“How about I drop off your usual and then we can smoke together?” Yoongi questions, a coolness in his voice. “I have a new strain you can try.”

“A new strain?” you open the shower door and get inside. The water hits your back and you lowly moan at the nice sensation of it. “That would be nice, Yoongi. How long do you think you’d be?”

“Not long. Are you in a rush?”

“No. I’m just showering.”

Yoongi is silent for a moment and you lick your lips in anticipation. 

“Getting pretty for our smoke session, I see. How nice.” there’s shuffling in the background as you laugh at his response. “I’ll be there in around 20.”

“See you.”

You scrubbed your skin furiously as if it was covered in the most dirt and grime ever. Your showers lasted longer than 10 minutes - especially when it was an everything shower. How you managed to do everything in 10 minutes was beyond you, but you managed. You still had to get out and make yourself look good without appearing as if you were trying too hard.

You tilt your head in the mirror, mind wandering. 

What if Yoongi was just a natural flirt? You were probably thinking far too into the flirtings - here you stood in front of a mirror pondering on what lingerie to wear for a man that sold you weed. Could you get any more pathetic than that?

Then again, what exactly did you have to lose?

You sigh. Your dignity was one - and so was good weed for the low if Yoongi decided to deny you.

“Fuck it.” you shrug away your nerves, deciding that even if Yoongi denied you, that wouldn’t stop you from at least attempting.

You knew Yoongi likes black - it’s all you ever truly see him in. You decided on a lacy black one you only ever wore once - for pictures - and covered it with a long t-shirt that stops at your thighs. 

Your phone sounds and you exhale a breath. You place the phone upon your ear and murmur a soft hello. “YN…” you feel the goosebumps of hearing your name come from Yoongi’s lips. “...I’m outside.”

“Coming.” you sing-song. 

It’s evening in February and that meant it was a bit chilly out, but you’d choose to ignore the piercing feeling of the cold breeze against your legs.

Yoongi’s car matched him, you thought. It was a black sedan with the darkest tint of windows you’ve ever seen. It stands out in the driveway of your way - your own car wasn’t as new as his nor was the surrounding ones belonging to your neighbors. 

The car is still on, but Yoongi assures that the lights aren’t. You got into his car swiftly, admiring how clean it was and how him it felt.

“You look nice.” Yoongi comments, flickering on the light.

“In a big ass t-shirt?” you snort, but even your heart is pounding from the compliment. If he thought you looked nice now, you wondered just how he’d like your lingerie.

Yoongi chuckles. “Yeah.” he nods. “You smell nice, too.”

You bite your lip, glancing at Yoongi's way. 

“This is a nice car.” you had to change the subject. Yoongi was such a smooth talker and everything he said had a tone of seriousness to it. It was hard not to be tongue tied around him. “You can’t get all your money just selling weed.”

Yoongi knits his brows. “Sounds like you’re fishing for information.” he murmurs. 

“Just an observation.”

Yoongi grasps a small rectangular box. He opens it, revealing pre-rolled blunts wrapped in paper. “You’re correct. It isn’t all I sell.” he says. “But, Y/N…ignorance is bliss.” Yoongi lights one of the blunts and hands it to you. “Ladies first.”

You gently grab the blunt, trying to ignore the way Yoongi’s eyes watch you. You feel nervous underneath his intense stare, contemplating how you would make your move upon him.

Yoongi licks his lips, eyes trailing down to your exposed legs. They appeared soft and smooth and he wanted to test the theory, but he held himself back.

Yoongi blinks when your hand comes into his line of vision. Yoongi shakes his head. “You can keep that one. I’ll light another.” he says, opening the box once more and grabbing yet another blunt.

You giggle. “That seems excessive.” But you take Yoongi’s word for it and continue to smoke as Yoongi lights his own. “Isn’t there a rule for using your own supply?”

Yoongi chuckles, taking a drag of his blunt. “My supply would be fine, trust me.”

“I feel bad though.” you murmur, glancing out the window. It’s hard to see with the tint and you just thought that was perfect. “I made you come all the way here for nothing.”

Yoongi is intrigued. He watches as you slowly turn towards him, body facing his way now in the large seat. He wants to tear his eyes away from the way the oversized shirt rises up your thigh, but it takes him a whole ten seconds to do so - and yes, he did count. 

“How so?” Yoongi swallows, finally lifting his eyes to reach yours. He continues to smoke as he awaits your response. 

“I don’t have any money.” your blunt was smaller than his now as you take a few puffs before continuing. “I should have told you once I realized. You know, bills, rent and all.”

Your throat feels dry. Yoongi slowly nods his head before releasing a laugh. 

“That’s fine. You don’t have to pay me.” Yoongi shrugs his shoulders. “You’ve been a loyal customer for years.”

Your eyes watch Yoongi inhale the smoke and exhale it through his nose. Your legs clench, finishing the blunt that has grown small.

“That would be taking advantage of you. I don’t want to do that.” you shake your head. 

“I consider you a friend of mine, Y/N.” You feel the jolt in your heart that tells you that your plan was going to fail. “You’re the only one that I would give such luxuries to.”

The jolt is back, but this time your plan was back in action. “Oh?” you ask, opening the window and flickering the small bud out of it. “I consider you a friend of mine, as well. But still…”

Yoongi blinks, tilting his head. 

“...I don’t just want to leave without offering you something.”

Yoongi’s unsure if he’s completely understanding what you’re speaking but he doesn’t have a moment to digest, either. You’re fast and swift, swinging your leg around and sitting completely onto his lap. Yoongi gasps when he feels you directly on him, the oversize shirt riding up your thighs once more.

There’s an open water bottle in the cup holder and Yoongi is quick to drop the rest of his blunt inside of it, not caring if he has wasted the rest entirely because you were in his lap. Yoongi is hesitant to touch you - he wants to feel the softness of your thighs. But he allows himself to slowly, telling himself that if you didn’t want him to, you wouldn’t be in his lap now. 

“You don’t have to offer me anything.” Yoongi murmurs, leaning back into his seat and looking up at you. 

Yoongi’s hands are big and they feel nice on you. You’d recall often staring at them whenever you and he were together - usually when he was bagging your weed. 

“I want to.” your hands send electric shocks through him when he feels them onto his neck. “You’ve been good to me after all these years. Always giving me deals, supplying more than what I ask for.”

Yoongi grunts when he feels you begin to grind against him and he is but a man, and within seconds he’s painfully (and embarrassingly) hard. 

“You even used to listen to my drunk ramblings when I’d call for weed.”

Yoongi snorts. “They were entertaining.” he admits, recalling the time you’d call him in all hours of the night back during your college days, ask for your usual, then completely change the topic of conversation. He never told you to shut up like you would have in his position.

Your hands slide down from his neck to his chest. You then grip the hem of your shirt and begin to lift. Yoongi watches in a trance, eyes slightly widening. In his eyes, you move in slow motion, taking off the oversize shirt.

Yoongi feels a lump in his throat and he tries his hardest to swallow it. His eyes are fixed on you - the black lingerie you wore that hugs you perfectly. It leaves little to the imagination, a lacy material covering your skin. He can see the outlines of your nipples - aroused and hardened for him.

“Cat got your tongue?”

Yoongi manages to swallow, eyes glancing up to look at you. You’re smirking down at him, satisfied that he was tongue tied. 

“You knew you were going to come out here and do this to me.” Yoongi presse you firmly against him, hands roaming up your sides. “That’s why you smell so good and your skin is so soft.”

Yoongi doesn’t intend to hold anything back now - not as you sit in his lap and allow him to touch you freely. He leans into your neck and inhales the sweet scent of your natural aroma mixed with perfume, a scent he’s sure he smelled before. He doesn’t want to think too much into it (or admit that he has smelled you when he’s given you your usual because he wasn’t a creep).

“Guilty.” you mumble, lowering yourself so you’re a few inches from his face. 

Yoongi places his lips against yours, moaning into the kiss. It catches you by surprise for a moment, but then you melt into him. His hands roam your body, palms feeling what skin you have exposed.

Your teeth sink into Yoongi’s bottom lip, lightly tugging it. Your palms slide into the back of his neck just as Yoongi’s begin to cup your ass.

“You want to do this here?” questions Yoongi, a dark look in his eyes. He isn’t opposed to it, however, the way he wants to have you would be quite difficult in his car.

“We can go inside.” you murmur, lips kissing down his jawline. 

Licking his lips, Yoongi nods. “You know you don’t have to do this if you think you need to pay me.” he has to be sure that it’s something you truly want to do - ignoring that you did come out here in lingerie and willingly sat in his lap after he stated you didn’t have to pay him.

“Maybe I just want to fuck you.” was your response and now, Yoongi is sure that tonight you’d get exactly what you were asking for.

The next is a blur. You managed to put your shirt back on while Yoongi gathered his own belongings and getting out the car. He keeps his hands on you as he follows you back inside your home and once the door is closed, you’re on him once more.

There had to be an attraction prior to this - between the both of you. You’d notice oftentimes that Yoongi’s eyes would wander when he thought you weren’t looking, and he also noticed how you’d become so giddy or flushed when he was around. This was bound to happen sooner or later - but never Yoongi leading it. 

So you had to.

“Do you have a condom?” you ask Yoongi, possibly far too late. “I’m not on any birth control.”

Yoongi nods his head, glad that he left condoms in his wallet with him.

“I’m clean.” Yoongi mentions, a dust of crimson on his cheeks. 

You smile. “So am I.”

You then fall to your knees, lifting the oversize shirt over your head. You then place them on the belt of his jeans, eyes glancing up at him.

Goosebumps run through Yoongi’s skin at what you’re trying to do and he’s quick to help you. He loosens his belt and you do the rest.

Yoongi’s already hard from seeing you on your knees and the thought of what's about to come next. He watches with his mouth agape as you take his cock out of his underwear, licking your lips.

It’s a rush going through you right now and for an odd reason, you feel yourself clenching around nothing just at the sight of Yoongi above you - and the thought of pleasuring him. 

“Shit…” Yoongi murmurs to himself, swallowing once his mouth becomes dry. You’re pumping his cock gently, eyes admiring at how pretty it looked. He was cleanly trimmed, cock erect and twitching in your hands.

You place a kiss on the tip of Yoongi’s cock before your tongue dips out and licks a single stripe upon it as if it was a lollipop. You can hear Yoongi’s breath hitching, and it’s what motivates you to continue.

Your tongue twirls around the tip, sucking it completely into your mouth. Your eyes glance up at the man, satisfied when his eyelids are closed and he’s beginning to pant.

Yoongi tries his hardest to remain upright, but then he feels your mouth more. So wet and warm and inviting - you take him into your mouth fully, continuing to suck as if your life depended on it. Yoongi leans against your front door, the back of his head pressed against it.

Deeper and deeper, you take Yoongi in your mouth. You rarely found your own pleasure when it came to pleasuring men - but this is different.Yoongi is hot, you’d admit, and even hotter when he’s moaning and panting because of you. You find yourself cleaning your own legs for any friction.

Managing to open his eyes, Yoongi looks down at you. Your cheeks are sucked in due to all the sucking you’re doing and wet slurping could be heard. Yoongi groans again because, damn - “You’re so pretty.” he grumbles, embarrassed because he didn’t mean to say it aloud and sound so damn whipped.

Your heart jolts at Yoongi’s compliment and it only causes you to suck harder, your jaw beginning to hurt but you refuse to stop because Yoongi (your weed dealer at that) called you pretty.

Yoongi pushes himself out of you - he’s unsure how he managed. His hand grasps your chin as he pants out a pathetic, “I don’t want to cum yet.”

There’s a string of saliva connecting your lips to Yoongi’s cock and it breaks when you slide your tongue over your lips.

“Okay.” you nod at Yoongi. “Maybe next time.”

Yoongi swallows and for a moment closes his eyes. You were a vixen - someone sent by the universe to fuck up his life. And most important, he was willing for you to do so.

“Y-yeah.” Yoongi mentally screams at himself for stuttering. “Next time.” He was known for his cool demeanor, a complete nonchalant person. You were breaking down walls he was certain wouldn’t bulge. 

You grin, small and cute, and nod back at him. “Next time you can return the favor, too.” you suggest. “Now I just want to ride you.”

Yoongi shudders. He’s certain now. The universe sent you indeed. It sent you to humble him, telling him that there was someone out there who could break down the walls he placed.

Your bedroom is far while the living room is a few feet away. You lift to your feet, waving at Yoongi to follow you. He does, awkwardly, lifting his pants just so they aren’t dragging across the ground.

You push Yoongi onto your couch, enjoying the sight of the man. “Condom?” you knit your brows.

“Right.” Yoongi mumbles, cheeks tinted red. He goes through his pockets and gets out his wallet. The condom falls out smoothly, a small, square black package.

You watch as Yoongi places the condom onto his cock and soon, you’re hovering above him. 

“Crotchless.” you giggle to Yoongi, who appears confused when you don’t remove the lingerie.

Yoongi gulps, nodding his head. You don’t allow him a chance to process, you’re already centering yourself and slowly engulfing him fully. 

Yoongi shudders at your warmth, even through the condom, of your pussy. He bites his lip, hands immediately on your hips as you begin to rise and fall. You’re so beautiful, his hands slide up your sides and then cup your breasts. With the lingerie you’re wearing, your breasts are seconds from falling out and he decides to speed up the process. 

“I’ve wanted you for so long.” Yoongi muffles himself between your breasts, large hands squeezing them. He kisses them, his tongue poking out to lick a nipple.

“Me, too.” you huff, your nails digging into the shirt of his shoulders. You imagined far too many times what Yoongi’s cock looked like and what it would look like inside of you.

Yoongi begins to thrust with you, his left holding the flesh of your ass. His tongue continues to twirl on your nipple in utter boyish bliss. He ponders while fucking you what you’d feel like raw - he imagines how tight you’d be around him, how wet and even warmer than you are now

“Shit…you’re so tight.” Yoongi kisses up your neck. “All for me.”

There’s a change in Yoongi’s tone of voice, no longer a stutter or a tint of uneasiness. You feel it in the way he begins to thrust harder, no longer allowing you to take control. So this was the Yoongi you knew (now know sexually) - cool, nonchalant and dominant.

With each thrust Yoongi hits a sweet spot and you moan with pleasure. His eyes continue to watch you contort with different emotions at what he’s doing. “You’re moaning like you’re in love, baby.”

You suck in a breath at the pet name. Fuck Yoongi, seriously, because you probably did look that way. But it wasn’t your fault - you don’t get fucked this good often and when you do well…

“You haven’t stopped moaning either.” you retort, somehow managing to find your words. You wrap your arms around his neck to bring him closer to you, your lips close to his ears. “Almost like you’re in love.”

Yoongi feels it - your tongue. It swipes at his ear teasingly and that’s all he needed to flip you onto your back, hitting the couch rapidly. He throws your legs over his shoulders and lifts his shirt a bit so he can continue to fuck into you. The position allows him to go even deeper, hitting that spot so sweet that you’re wailing.

“So wet. Wish I could feel you.” Yoongi says more to himself than you. There’s a creamy wetness wrapped around the condom, your pussy leaking with pleasure. 

You begin to pant, eyes snapping shut. You were beginning to think that maybe you were becoming dick drunk, because your next words surprise you just as it does him. “If you can pull out, you can take off the condom. Cum on me, too.”

“Shit, baby, really?” Yoongi halts his thrusts. Did he hear you correctly? “You can’t be that high.” he jokes.

“Fuck you.” you hiss low. “Just take it off and fuck me, Yoongi.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Yoongi does as he’s told, quickly getting up to undress his bottom half. He removes the condom and looks around.

“Just throw it-”

“I’m not throwing it on the ground.” Yoongi raises a brow. “I’m not a caveman.” He was far too respectful and sanitary for that,even if it was just for a moment.

You huff and nod, pointing behind you to the direction of the bathroom. 

Yoongi dashes down the hall, discards the condom, and rushes back. He kisses your cheek quickly, centering himself back at your whole.

Yoongi winces, then shudders.

You felt better than he’d imagined - warm, wet and still tight. He’s slow at first, trying to collect himself. Your legs are over his shoulder again, and he reaches inside of you deeper and deeper. 

“You look in love.” you joke, mocking him. Yoongi hasn’t looked away from your pussy since he started. 

“Maybe I am.” Yoongi’s nails dig into your thighs, his thrusts picking up the pace. The sweet sounds of your moans mixed with the wet sounds of your pussy hit his ears. “You’re clenching around me so tight.” his eyes flicker to you, and he smirks. “Like you want me to cum in you.”

Yoongi pounds inside of you, each thrust aggressively deep. You don’t mean to say it - but Yoongi was playing a dangerous game as if you weren’t already high and horny.

“Maybe I do.”

Yoongi grumbles something inaudible. Indeed you were sent from the universe - he’s read about nymphs and you’re beginning to fit the description. 

“You do, huh?” Yoongi opens your legs and marvels at the sight of your pussy, his cock being milked with your essence lovingly. His thumbs place itself onto your clit and he rubs. “You’re just talking. Good weed and dick would do that to you.”

Cocky Yoongi is back and damn was it hot.

You opened your eyes to see Yoongi in the act. 

A mistake.

Yoongi’s looks completely feral, eyes dark with lust. His hair sticks to his forehead and his mouth is slightly agape, panting to himself. His eyes are fixed to your pussy and you decided to see just what he saw.

You were cumming now - Yoongi circling your clit just as rough as he was fucking you. His cock fits perfectly inside of you and watching the way he fucks you just sends you completely over the edge. 

“There you go, baby.” chuckles Yoongl raspily, witnessing you cum for him. “You look pretty cumming on my cock.”

A few more sloppy thrusts and Yoongi’s certain he’s near. He bites his lip, pulling out of you abruptly. His cum spills on your clit, warm and slippery.

You huff, shaking your head. “You managed to pull out.” you murmur.

Yoongi falls back against the couch to catch your breath. “Almost didn’t.” he admits with a laugh. “You hungry?”

You nod your lazily, the side effects of the weed coming to you. 

“I can get us something to eat.” Yoongi offers. “Free of charge. You don’t have to fuck me-”

You kick Yoongi, a rush of hot embarrassment running through you, but all the man does is laugh, gummy smile on full display.

part 2 (coming oct. 14) | teaser to part 2

[luveline]

hi! i just remembered a scene from friends where chandler says to monica it's ok she's high maintenance cause he likes maintaining her and i think this is soooo spencer and bombshell!reader coded. you're ok with writing this as a request? love u jadey

ty (ily)!! fem!reader

Spencer’s feet ache dully with each step he takes, but you have your hand in his, and you’re pulling him along with a smile. Your smile could cure anything, he thinks stupidly. It’s completely outside of his beliefs, goes against every book on medicine he’s ever read. 

“Why are you frowning?” you ask, swinging his hand as you turn the corner together. 

“I’m not.” 

You step closer, arm stuck to his arm, nearly one body walking together against the summer breeze. “You’re frowning, Spence. You have a very obvious pout. It is so so cute.” You lean in to kiss him quickly, his heart turning to a pitter-patter under his ribs. 

“I’m tired,” he explains, not wanting you to think his bad mood has anything to do with you. 

“You’ve had a long day, that’s why. When we get back to your place I’ll give you an incredible foot massage and everything will be okay again.” 

“I don’t want a foot massage. My feet don’t even hurt,” he lies.

“Don’t bother.” You untangle your fingers from his and wave him away. “I know all your tells, baby boy,” —he laughs through a wrinkled nose— “nothing gets past me.” 

“Why’d you choose a dry cleaners so far from your apartment?” he asks. You could’ve picked the one beside work, which has a yellow pages worth of fantastic reviews. The one second closest to his place is new but raved about at length. This dry cleaners is nearly twenty-five blocks away.

“They do things exactly how I like it, I guess. I never have to worry about it when I give them my best clothes, and it’s kind of expensive if they were to accidentally ruin something, right?” You have expensive taste; you like things sturdy, fitted, and fashionable. 

“Do you think I should get someone to do my laundry?” he asks. 

“You can afford it. But maybe not. There’s nothing wrong with your own washing machine and a steamer.” You side eye him carefully. “Maybe I’m over the top.” 

“You’re high maintenance,” he agrees. “Is it expensive, getting your clothes dry cleaned all the time? I could pay for that.” 

“What? Why would you pay for it?” 

“‘Cos we’re together?” He’s more worried than dry about it. “I’d like to pay for your manicures and your hair, too, but I didn’t think you’d let me.”

“And I won’t… s’kind of nice you want to though. Really nice, um.” You’re blinking funny. “I think that’s more of a husband thing. You really want to pay for me to get manicures?” 

Spencer pays for lots of your stuff because he loves you. Good food mostly, but treats, clothes, anything he might think you’re interested in, actually. He likes to spoil you. You tend to spoil him back, if not with money then affection. “I like maintaining you.” 

You curl your arm through his. “That’s a funny way to say it.” 

He laughs at your obvious delight. “I like taking care of you,” he admits. “You like being high maintenance, it makes you happy, and I like making you happy.” 

“Thank you very much,” you say, softer now as your hand works up his neck and you turn his face to you, the sidewalk and the streetlines melting away under your warm touch. “You make me happier than you know.” 

His cheeks turn pink. He doesn’t need to see himself to confirm. It’s a high statistical probability. 

“Kiss?” you ask, voice still soft. 

Spencer walks you back nearer to the side of a building and out of the way, his hands at your neck and waist as he leans down just a touch to close your gap. He acts selfishly, perhaps, taking your hand from his face in order to hold yours in both of his without anything in the way of it. He kisses, he breathes you in, his head tilting more heavily to the side as the kiss lengthens, lingers. You’re like a flower in his hand, blooming slowly under the effects of a little heat. 

“What if you pay for my dry cleaning,” you begin, a smile evident in your voice though Spencer keeps his eyes closed. Tracing the hill of your cheek with his fingers just a moment longer. “And I pay for yours?” 

Spencer thumbs along your jaw. “I don’t want anything from you, just you.” 

“Well, what if I treat us to some Indian takeout tonight?” you ask. “Would you eat that? Or am I enough to sustain you, my love?” 

He could enjoy being taken care of in turn, he thinks. 

[mercy-burning]

A Kindness You Can't Afford

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader Summary: Something that started out as 'stress relief between co-workers' is now a little concerning to you, but for some reason you can't help but keep letting Spencer walk through your door... Rating: Mature (18+) Content: Strong language, unprotected sex, rough sex, fingering, blink-and-you'll-miss-it choking, squirting (As always, let me know if I missed anything!) Word Count: 2.7k

MASTERLIST

NOTE: @imagining-in-the-margins sent me lyrics to Hozier's It Will Come Back to entice me to write something for her monthly challenge (which is themed Friends With Benefits), and then this happened. You can thank her for this. And also Emily Henry, because I read Happy Place and Beach Read back to back recently, and DAMN IT if I wasn't itching to do some romance-writing of my own. Sure, this one is less romance and more porn without plot, but I digress. The inspiration is there and that's all that matters. Plus I've started working on something else that probably won't see the light of day for a long while, but it's nice to feel the motivation. I'm starting to feel like myself again :) I don't know how long this creative sparkling cloud of dust is going to last, but I'm grateful to be living in it, if at least for a little while. It feels good to be there again <3

Enjoy!!

*******

There's a small pit in your gut that only deepens when you hear a knock at the door. A chill permeates your nervous system and sends you off on shaky limbs until you reach it, and as your palm comes in contact with the cool metal of the doorknob, you're disappointed to discover that the contrast does nothing to comfort the hot and clammy skin. Unless the person behind the door turns out not to be who you think, you will not know that comfort.

You open the door anyway, already used to this feeling of unease. It's a feeling you've come to tolerate, and sometimes even crave in desperate moments. Tonight has not seen one of those moments, but you suppose that doesn't really matter because you've already agreed to his terms, and unless you call it off, you're stuck. You've seriously considered doing it a few times, but something deep inside tells you he might not like it very much, and you're unsure of how he'll react.

It isn't a risk you're willing to take.

And so, you meet Spencer Reid with a bright smile, pretending not to know why he could possibly be outside your door past 9pm. He looks a little sleep deprived, but it's nothing new. Your work is exhausting. It was a major deciding factor and is the driving force behind your agreement in the first place. A way to relieve stress. Somewhere along the way, it seemed to have turned into something darker, though in retrospect that darkness has always been there. You often think back to the first time you initiated intimacy— how excited you were that he seemed willing to take you up on the offer... How your head swam through glittering mist and your heart beat quickly at his words.

"God, Y/N, I need you to be sure... Because once we go there, once you let me in... Even after I leave, I'm always going to be there... You're going to feel me everywhere you go, and that's a promise..."

In the moment it even sounded romantic, and in some twisted way, it might still be. But you don't want to let your brain misconstrue this whole situation. You've promptly decided to take it for what it is and accept the fact that he has some deep desires he needs to expel, and you're just a convenient companion for the journey.

"Spencer, you're here late..."

He exhales through his nose. "No later than usual."

"Right... Come on in." You widen the door and confidently step aside like you wouldn't know any different.

Rather than let you close the door, he'd taken your words as an invitation to make himself at home, pushing it shut with his foot and jolting you forward with it, subsequently pulling you towards him. His hands are quick to guide your face to his own, and without a second more in passing, the night has officially begun.

Electricity is immediate, sizzling through your core at Spencer's drive. It's true that when you're alone, it's difficult not to overthink the situation and rope the emotional and logical side of it to the forefront of your mind. But being with him like this dissipates the thinking entirely. All you know is that it feels so good, and it's absolutely worth all the turmoil you put your brain through.

It's worth it when his tongue possesses your own and coaxes the most sinful, desperate noises from the depths of your chest, and when your delicate fingers find purchase in his hair. It's worth it when your back is up against the door with his knee wedged between your thighs. It's worth it when his hand glides down your jaw until each finger curls around your neck, not choking you but simply resting there like a necklace would. He squeezes gently for a second each time you twitch your hips, desperate to feel friction, and you whimper.

You've come to learn that the more noises you make, the more he rewards you with... well, more. So it doesn't take very long for him to decide that enough is enough, and he pulls away from you to turn you around. You brace your arms on the door and lean your head to the left so he can work.

Warm lips attach to your neck as nimble fingers snake around your front and dip below the band of your lounge shorts and underwear. Your insides hum to life, and your legs naturally spread apart a little further, making Spencer laugh against your skin. You half expect him to tease you, but the surprise leaves your body in the form of a rather whorish Oh! when he spreads you apart and glides his fingers through your warm cunt. He explores you thoroughly, circling and spreading and plunging his fingers inside you, until eventually he continues a slow and steady pace running up and down your clit. You can feel it in his breath, in the way it stutters over your neck— He's about to give you your first orgasm of the night. If his skilled hands wouldn't do it (which you know they will), his words definitely would.

"Mmmm, I love how warm you are, Y/N," he slurs into your neck. Then he lightly nips at your shoulder and quickens the pace and pressure on your clit. "And how fucking messy you get for me..."

You know what he wants, but even if you hadn't, it still would have happened. The first time he made you squirt, he'd been determined to do it again. And again. In every different way possible. Over the course of your stress-relief-escapades you've come to learn that this particular way (with his hand down your loose-fitting shorts) is his favorite. He never strives to do it anymore unless you're wearing a pair. Perhaps it's the sounds, or the feeling of your damp clothes and the desperate need to peel them away in favor of something more solid, but it's become your favorite way, too.

Your nails scratch at the door as you pant and sigh your way through an intense building orgasm, and Spencer leans forward with you, using his free hand to assist in holding you up as he furiously works at your clit with the other. His chin rests on your shoulder as he huffs out, "Go on, baby, let it out..."

He knows you're close, and those final encouraging words seem to snap the coil tightening inside you. Your thighs tense for just a second before you feel every wave of pleasure crashing into every limb. And then, you're able to relax and ride it out, letting him hold you up and pull the orgasm out of you like magic. It's wet, it's warm, and it's fucking sensational...

You can practically see the wild look in Spencer's eyes even if you couldn't actually see him at all. His presence is always, as promised, so inherently there, that even now it's a vivid image. His pupils are an empty abyss, and if you look too closely you're sure to fall in. Hell, you're not even positive that you haven't already fallen in, because the thought of calling it all off when it feels this good seems, simply put, wrong. Why would you ever want to deprive yourself of this feeling? His possessive, damn-near monstrous way of loving you as concerning as it is, had taken you to the highest places you'd ever known. Even if it isn't 'love' on paper, you certainly love it anyway. And he must love it, too, otherwise he wouldn't keep coming back.

He only comes back because you let him in in the first place, the rational part of your brain tries to reason, though it can't quite break through the fog of lust. At this point, it's so thick that you aren't sure it's ever going to clear.

Not that, right now, you'd mind...

Once your breathing slows and your legs gather the strength to pivot, Spencer removes his hand from your shorts and gently guides you to turn around. His lips are on yours immediately, and he's tugging at your shorts and underwear to pull them down. They drop to the ground and without a second to spare, he tugs you along through your living room and over to the couch. It's practically a straight shot to the bedroom from here, but apparently time is not a luxury he can afford this evening, because you barely have time to anticipate what his next move might be before he makes it.

Mouths still attached, the two of you nearly fall on the couch, and Spencer's weight covers you like a blanket. His hips pin yours down and his arms have taken to pinning your own above your head. He nips at your bottom lip and pulls away for a moment, but you chase him, trying to lean up and keep kissing him and whimpering when you can't.

A low laugh exhales from his chest. "And I thought I was the needy one in this relationship..."

He shifts then, getting up and kneeling between your bare legs to start undoing his pants. Meanwhile you lift your shirt over your head, grateful you'd already ditched the bra earlier in the afternoon. Less time to waste.

Seeing you completely bare from head to toe and ready for him seems to amplify that animalistic quality in Spencer that's so unlike the aura of the boy you met years and years ago. Whether he had that quality before he'd met you is unknown, but it's hard to imagine. You like to think that you and you alone have single-handedly created this primal sexual being simply by expressing interest in what youcould offer him amongst the joint understanding of the daily hardships that leech onto a BAU agent. Regardless of the truth, the sheer sense of power it fills you with... In every deep stroke of his cock, in every mark left behind, and in every praise sung, there is this irreplaceable strength that you cling to long after he's gone.

No hard truth would ever take that feeling away, and so you can't help the grin that manifests at his urgency. You can tell he wants nothing more than to sink into you immediately; he visibly struggles for a moment before opting to fully slide his pants and underwear off together until they're tossed over somewhere into the abyss. You half-expect him to whip his shirt off to join them, but instead he lunges forward and covers you again, muffling your whimpers with his mouth as one hand guides himself into your slick cunt.

You can feel the rumble in his chest the moment he's all the way in and you clench around him. He rests his forehead to yours and kisses you deeply before asking, "You ready for me, Y/N?"

The low echoing tone in his voice seems to answer in the momentary silence that follows.

You better be... 

It sends a chill down to the marrow of your bones.

You barely whisper out, "Yes," and before the last letter leaves your mouth, Spencer has pulled back and snapped his hips forward, starting a slow and brutal pace inside you. Your legs spread wide naturally, giving him all the room in the world to position himself to handle you however he wants. He opts for holding your breasts in his palms, holding himself steady and pinning you down firmly to the couch cushions.

It doesn't take long for your eyes to start their descent to the back of your head, until they flutter shut and you're seeing stars behind closed lids. His pace quickens, still hard and determined, and yet you know he has more in him. Part of you itches to whine and beg for him to go farther, to push him to his limits and make him fuck you until you're nearly unconscious and delirious. And truthfully, that's still a high possibility, but you also wouldn't mind staying like this forever.

Then, one of his hands shifts and glides up to your neck again. You open your eyes and find Spencer staring down at your body with hair falling down in front of his face and sweat forming on his brow. His mouth hangs open and then grins when he catches you staring, the sight making you sigh out and grip the bottom hem of his shirt with your fingers for any kind of stability.

You're teetering on the edge of another orgasm, and by the way his face is slightly scrunching you can tell that he's not far behind you.

Just the flash-forward thought of him filling you up sends a jolt through your body, and before you know it, your legs are tensing again, and you're yelling out his name in broken syllables as a flood of warmth spreads through your body. For a split second you wonder if you've both come undone at the same time, but this feeling is different and more intense. Familiar.

The sounds filling the room only confirms your conclusion, and then Spencer's words as he pauses and feels you twitching around him.

"Twice in one night, huh?"

You force yourself to look at him, to see the unhinged pride pooling in his eyes as you finish and wait for him to follow suit. It both empowers and frightens you at the same time, an odd combination of feelings that you're sure to have a crisis about in the morning. But for now, you can't help but lean back and watch the ceiling as Spencer grips your hips and starts fucking you relentlessly into the couch.

Finally, he pauses at the hilt inside you and holds himself there, stuttering out expletives and coming. He pulls back and then forwards a couple times, gently rocking himself through it, and then his grip on your body loosens and you're able to pull him down to you.

You wrap your legs around him to keep him still, unwilling to let go of this feeling quite yet. It's there— that strength that he gives you, whether he knows it's there or not.

And in about an hour after you wash up and go to bed, he will be gone, and that strength will slowly fizzle out overnight, and like clockwork, you'll long to feel it again some time after the concern runs its course— After you replay the night in your head, over and over, analyzing every look and every touch and every reaction. After you frighten yourself into believing that he must be in tune with some level of evil to use you for rough sex and then leave you alone during the day and act like it never happened, even though it's literally what you agreed to.

The back and forth will only make living harder, and so you'll push it all away and focus on work. Until Spencer eventually brushes your arm with the back of his hand as he passes you, or hands you a cup of coffee with a kind smile, and then you'll come right back to wondering how such a gentle soul could hold such intensity. It will unnerve you until you tell yourself that it's just the complexities of the human condition and that every soul contains multitudes. You see it every day. It's not uncommon. It's completely normal.

The thought will calm you enough to get you through the rest of the afternoon, and when you get home, you'll settle in for the night without a second thought. You'll make dinner, watch a show, read a book, endlessly scroll online, or talk to Penelope about whatever show she's watching... You'll keep yourself busy.

And then the sun will set. Your house will grow quiet. You'll start to feel it: the small pit in your gut that only deepens when you hear a knock at the door. You'll meet Spencer Reid with a bright smile, pretending not to know why he could possibly be outside your door past 9pm.

So, yes. For now, you will hold onto him a little longer and bask in the afterglow of this exercise in 'stress relief'. Because even if it doesn't mean anything greater, and whether there's even anything within Spencer's motivations to decode in the first place... This moment in time, each time, is the most relieved you ever feel.

Your fingers flex gently over his shoulders, and through the soft, even exhaling of his breath across your cheek, you know for certain he feels the same.

*******

PERMANENT TAGLIST (tags not working are struck out): 

@starrylang @xoxospencerreid @lovejules888 @awesomebooklover17 @yourmisosoup @gubswh0re @venomsvl @this-is-doctor-and-its-calm @umbreonwolfy @hotchandspencearedilfs @spencerreidsmommy @abby2661 @youabitchhhh @reidsbabe @shemarmooresfedora @donald4spiderman @moonlight-2-6 @chaoticcatie @flipperpenguins @muffin-cup @centiaaa @foreveryoungxx3 @happymangospot @matthew-gray-gubler-lover

If you would like to be added to or removed from the taglist, feel free to message me or leave a comment and I’ll get on it right away!

[bunni-v1]

Could I ask for your headcanons on how the staff would take care of/look after the reader? I’m a sucker for the fics where they take a parental role

How The Staff Takes Care of You

TW: None!

Info: Crowley, Crewel, Trein, Vargas and Sam x Reader (Platonic)

🍓This one is short but sweet. I’ve spent a lot of time on the event, but I want to start on other requests outside of it too. This one looked fun and easy so I got it out within about an hour or so. I hope you enjoy!

Tags: @kitsun369 @bloomstruck

Crowley

-Lets get one thing straight, Crowley does not take care of you

-It’s hard to even say that Crowley cares for you. It’s hard to say he cares for anyone other than himself.

-Still… he does do some things correctly.

-He gives you a place to live (which he threatened to take away), food (which he threatened to take away), and funding (which he… threatened to take away).

-He DOES come to ACTUALLY care for you, just… not in the traditional sense, I suppose. 

-He has frequent check ins with you to ensure that you are doing well.

-Occasionally he stops by ramshackle just to chat with you and ensure you have company.

-Believe it or not, he set up a lot of the things you do specifically so that he can ensure you are getting along with other students and have a support system here.

-He lets you keep grim around — even though he has cause countless issues for student and staff alike.

-He’s like your weird uncle. You hardly ever actually see Crowley around, but you know that he is looking out for you in his own way. 

-Thats all that matters, right?

Crewel

-Crewel is also anther oddball when it comes to how he shows that he cares.

-He is… aware that Crowley does not do a very good job at caring for you, and he’s a bit easier on you because of that.

-He’s probably harder on you homework-wise than most other students though.

-He wants to see you excel and succeed in his class.

-It would be the biggest fuck you to Crowley ever, so he works hard to make sure that you prove yourself to everyone.

-He makes sure that you’re sleeping and eating well, and if he sees that you are not, he makes you stay ofter class to talk to him so you both can find a way to solve this issue.

-If it’s money issues keeping you from eating, don’t worry. He’s now making you a lunch — or at least he gives you some money to eat.

-The nicest thing he does for you, however, is he gets you clothes.

-Your uniform is pretty… bad, and he feels bad for you.

-So, he takes matters into his own hands and gets you a nice new one that actually fits you.

-He and Trein have a rivalry over who treats you better and who you like more. (Trein is winning by like one point and it drives Crewel crazy).

-Crewel very much is the one to tell you “Boys are stupid, don’t date — especially not the ones here.” Lol

-Again, more like a very ambitious uncle who just really loves his family but never wants kids of his own.

-Oh, also, his dogs love you. So that’s a plus.

Trein

-He has two girls of his own, and he really does love kids, he’s just… jaded from years of being a teacher for snotty kids like Ace.

-You though? He likes you a lot.

-You’re a troublemaker, sure, but you always try your best in classes and have been making the best of your situation.

-Speaking of, Trein hates the way Crowley is so lackadaisical about your position and treatment.

-You are a living person? How could he just leave you to almost starve or freeze in your rickety old dorm?

-Trein visits your dorm frequently after his school day is done, just to ensure you have food and are able to stay warm/cool in the respective seasons.

-If he finds that you do not have enough food or cannot afford it, he talks to both Sam and Crowley and scolds them into lowering prices for you and raising your passive income.

-He still buys you things with his own money.

-If you fall asleep in class and you look like you need it, he won’t bother you. 

-Tells you that you can always come to him if you’re having trouble with anyone, and he will most definitely deal with them.

-Do you need extra help with homework, he’ll stay late just to ensure you’re understanding the material. 

-Seriously the number one dad at NRC, and he’s really happy to have you around since you remind him so much of his girls.

Vargas

-The resident promoter of a healthy lifestyle and great workout routine at NRC.

-You don’t really spend that much time around Vargas, so you two aren’t close, but he knows about you through the other members of staff.

-He knows how Crowley treats you, and while he isn’t one to play favorites… he can make an exception.

-Especially since he knows you aren’y always eating enough thanks to your limited budget.

-The last thing he needs is a student passing out in his class.

-He still pushes you to work out and participate, but if you’re looking like a ghost when you walk into class he’s going to make you go change and get some rest.

-He’s a gym nut, not a monster.

-He’s good with dieting though, so he’s able to tell Trein and Crewel and Same what would be best for you to eat in your condition.

-So yeah, he’s likely the least involved in your life, but he does help you from behind the scenes.

-It’s better than Crowley, so that’s a win in his books.

Sam

-Other than Trein, Sam probably sees you the most frequently out of everyone.

-You come into his shop at least once a day for something.

-At first he treated you the same as every other student, charing you ridiculously hight prices for typically cheap stuff.

-Then one day you came in looking for something to eat, cause you’d run out of what little Crowley gave you, but you didn’t have enough money.

-He nearly cried at how heartbroken you looked when you realized you couldn’t get anything.

-He gave you the whole meal for free, didn’t even ask for what you had.

-Trein is also on his ass about how high his prices are, so he purposefully has a “discount” every time you’re there to buy something.

-He also gets to know you through your shopping and makes and effort to talk to you to feel out where you are physically and mentally.

-He reports what he notices back to Trein and Crowley, just to make sure someone who has the power to is taking care of you.

-You’ve got a friend in Sam, that’s for sure.

[caffichai]

Food Bank Fundraiser

Hi everyone!

First of all, I want to say thanks to everyone who's been leaving such nice tags/comments on stuff I've posted! It's been really encouraging (o^▽^o)

Anyway, I think we all know it's very dark days on the economic front for many of us. So as such, I'd like to help raise some funds for Food Banks Canada! In exchange for you making a donation to the food bank, I will draw a character suggestion!

I know this is not really the sort of thing I normally do or post here but... many folks are struggling to put food on the table right now, and the food bank is a source of support for many and provides an absolute necessity. I've seen many people struggling in my own city, and food security has become an even bigger issue than it already was in the last couple of years with the food bank struggling to keep up with demand. Of course, food security is an issue across the whole country that's putting a huge strain on food banks, with nearly 5% of the entire population making use of food banks monthly, and 23% of the population reporting food insecurity (CBC, 2024; Global News, 2024). Unsurprisingly, those who are already most disadvantaged suffer the effects of food scarcity even more (Statistics Canada, 2023). To make matters more desperate, Canada's food bank system is on the brink of collapse (CTV News, 2024).

I know this isn't going to something big enough to change the world or anything, but being able to make even a small impact for individual people is important too!

✨Incentives✨

Of course, I'm sure people aren't just in it for a reward, but rewards make things all the sweeter, right?

For those who want to contribute, I'll take a character suggestion and add it to a poll (depending on the number of contributors, it may be split up into multiple polls), and then I'll draw as many as I can from top to bottom ranking! If you contribute, please send me a DM with your donation receipt and your character idea! They won't necessarily all be drawn in the same style, and they'll be done according to how much time I've got. (I know that commissions are probably the biggest incentive, but realistically, I struggle to get them done quickly and they're probably not that affordable to everyone)

If you prefer SFW or NSFW, you can let me know (But NSFW will be posted to Cohost). If you make a bigger contribution, I'll reach out to you and ask if you wanna see more specifics/details in your piece. How's that for sweetening the pie? :3

For those who can't make a donation (which is completely understandable), simply spreading the post is also helpful, and I appreciate that greatly as well!

Don't forget that giving a donation allows you to get a tax break based on the amount donated as well!

Alternatives?

If you'd rather donate to your own local food bank, that's great too! You can DM me and send me a pic of your receipt and I'll still add your suggestion to the poll.

If you REALLY want a commission, you can also DM me and I'll do my best to fulfil it! I won't be taking commissions for this till/if there's at least a couple of items on the poll though. The proceeds will go to my own local food bank. The commission will be done later though, and may take some time to fulfil. I take payment only after starting.

When do we start??

I guess once there's a good number of poll options? I have no idea how long that will be, but rest assured I'll keep you updated!

Where do we contribute?

You can make your donation to Food Banks Canada! They really need it!

Alternatively, you can make a donation to your local food bank or equivalent charity.

Other Questions?

Feel free to send me a message or an ask! I'll get back to you ASAP. If I need to include more details or clarify something, let me know! It's my first time doing this!

TL;DR

I want to help raise money for food banks! Anyone who contributes to Food Banks Canada (or donates to their own local food bank or equivalent charity) can DM me with their receipt and give a character to add to the poll. Poll characters will be drawn in order of their ranking, as many as I can manage, over as long a period of time as I can manage!

No pressure to donate of course, I just figured this would be a fun way of raising a bit of money to help out, and allow us to donate more than what I personally can

Current Contributor Count: 13

Suggested Characters:

Imagine your beloved, obscure or popular character here on this poll list! Oooooooh, how lucrative :3

Total funds raised:

780.36$!!!

[etherfabric]

Which part of you wants to be felt? + Affirmations

Choose a pile by which picture you resonate with the most.

If your mind is too busy to clearly decide, take a few deep breaths, and use the finger of your non-dominant hand to hover over the images. One will give off the most subtle yet prominent signals, like tingles, a magnetic pull, or temperature. This is your pile. Multiples are also possible.

You have free will. I merely provide my perspective in these readings. Sometimes the Universe lines you up with something that doesn't resonate with your truth, so you have contrast to find out what does.

Pile 1

Death, Wheel of Fortune

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The part of you that wants to be felt is your optimism. This feels to you like putting a boulder on a butterfly - dooming it from the beginning. You lost all trust in your right and ability to imagine good scenarios. Anytime one creeps up to you, you swat it away like an insect carrying a disease. True, you had to face some dark truths about the world and yourself - but don't forget why you started this process: You wanted to be happy and healthy again.

This means recalibrating your focus on what is good and fun. Things that make you glad to be alive. Even if you will fear losing them all over again. But if the past taught you one thing, it should be your ability to stand up and rebuild, right? You and your skills are the secret ingredient. You can afford risks. You are abundant in your ability to find the next good thing. Looking back at all you lost, doesn't it make sense? Didn't it make room for all this, that is so much more you? Whatever loss you will have to face in the future will just be the predecessor of an even further upgrade. Don't wait for guarantees. Seize what you have now, and trust in divine timings. You will get your fill. But you have to give access to your cup first.

Your affirmation is:

I am aware that being happy means I am on the right path.

Pile 2

5 of Wands rx, The Fool rx

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The part of you that wants to be felt is your willingness towards repair after conflict. I know there have been countless occassions where you were the "stupid" one to extend a peaceful hand first, only for it to be slapped away, or used to pull you down even further. No one deserves that, you included. While we can't expect a foolproof (eheh, because of the Fool, get it? ...sorry) guarantee to always have the right timing with our peace offers, it's still worth a try. I feel this resentment towards yourself for being even able to do that. "Not this idiot again getting us hurt even further after a fight." But this idiot is exactly the one who will bring you closer to those who actually just had a bad day when they hurt you. Who truly wished things would have been different. And are probably desperate to reconnect, but just don't know where to even begin. You do. Dare to risk it again.

It might bring up old pain that feels unbearable, but remind yourself (if you can) that you are much more powerful than in the past, where those low blows were truly devastating. They will never feel nice, but if you let them be a reason to never get close to someone again, you run the risk of being lonelier than you'd realistically have to be. The malicious intent you feel might be a remnant from unprocessed hurt, instead of a reliable source of purely present information. Let the dust settle and reassess the situation. If in the calm, this still feels like war, and you worked through your shadow to see clearer, then by all means, please leave. But don't destroy something good because it touched a sore spot.

Your affirmation is:

My capability to show my true feelings is always a step towards love and life.

Pile 3

The Star, 2 of Swords rx

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The part of you that wants to be felt is your faith, to be more precise, your confidence in being worthy of having faith. You are still on the fence with a lot of big and small things regarding it. You feel like you just started consciously allowing yourself to even entertain that dimension of existence, that there might be more than the eye can see, that science and logic don't paint the whole picture. Even reading that sentence felt kind of... wrong, right? That's actually super normal. This image of sudden enlightenment, never waivering in one's beliefs and always flowing on a cloud of omniscience and serenity is a product sold to us. To keep us discouraged from our inner strength and voice, and assign our own power to supposedly better people than us. "I am having doubts, I feel kinda silly doing this sometimes, I forget a lot of the practices, I do it haphazardly, I don't cleanse/pray/meditate/worship/offer/affirm enough, or do it the wrong way..." And then we feel guilty when we turn towards our faith in times of desperation and hopelessness, despite our "lousy performance".

Pardon my french, but cut that shit out. You are worthy. You are a spiritual being, point blank, whether you are in a ceremonial robe humming psalms or sitting on your toilet watching TikTok. Performance doesn't determine relevance. Performance or lack thereof will never be able to erase the deep truth you already tapped into. You discovered your spiritual side, but not in lieu to your physical, logical self - no one wants you to abandon or replace anything. It's an addition for the spaces 3D can't fill. The times you turn towards it are exactly the times you should. Give yourself grace and patience to let this gigantic new dimension unfold in its own time for you. It's a lot, and that's the beauty of it. Now, with this, there will always be something new to learn and explore!

Your affirmation is:

There is no way to get my life wrong. My connection to source is eternal.

Pile 4

5 of Pentacles rx, Temperance

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The part of you that wants to be felt is your relief. When I tap into your energy, it matches the archetype of a man on his porch with a shotgun in his lap. He is already falling asleep in his rocking chair, because there is no actual danger present that would cut the lulling sound of crickets, but then this thing inside his head goes off and he jolts awake to point the weapon at the dark. There hasn't been an intruder or dangerous animal in years, but he is so afraid of it happening again, that he ruins his own divinely orchestrated time for recuperation.

Yes, the horrors of the past were real, but you can wait forever to feel relaxed now that it's over, if you don't loosen your grip on your defenses (which are, quite frankly, premature offenses a lot of the times). It will feel terribly vulnerable and like the dumbest thing you could ever do, but your body needs your help. It. Is. Tired. Being scared is hard work. I know I am being the opposite of original here with my suggestions, and I invite you to moan your annoyance clearly, and roll your eyes at me with vigor when I say: Deep breath in, hold it for as long as you can, and exhale slowly. Repeat until you feel different. It might take a while, depending from how high of an adrenaline level you have to climb down, but golly, you need it. Don't be surprised if a pocket of fear comes up to be felt, the up and down is the way it goes towards equilibrium. Just keep breathing, dear. Your body knows the rest.

Your affirmation is:

I have the power to create peace within myself.

[coraniaid]

The scene where Willow confronts Faith is Choices is kind of fascinating to me, because ... well.

I like Choices quite a lot, and I think Willow's dislike of Faith is perfectly understandable and in character (and her speech has some fun but probably not intentional foreshadowing for later seasons), but it's hard not to notice that the narrative expects you to be rather more unambiguously on Willow's side than I think is really warranted.

I mean, Willow might not have been the most popular girl in high school, but she has multiple close friends, a nice boyfriend, a stable [and fairly comfortably middle-class] home life, she "represents the pinnacle of achievement in Sunnydale High" in the words of her school's principal, she's trusted enough to teach at the school, in a year she'll be able to go to any college she wants (and, unlike some people, she can afford to go anywhere she wants), she used to hack into government computer databases (before she ever met Buffy!) and now she's teaching herself dark magic "for fun" and she hasn't [yet] ever suffered any real repercussions for either of those things.

On the other hand, from what little we hear about Faith's past we know she grew up poor and that her mother used to get drunk and beat her, that she didn't have any friends and dropped out of high school young, she is very strongly implied on multiple occasions to have been the victim of some pretty horrific abuse before being called as a Slayer, and after being called as a Slayer she got to watch the one adult who ever told her she mattered get killed horribly in front of her before fleeing across the country to a town where she doesn't know anybody, still has no friends, doesn't have a job or go to school and lives alone in a motel in the bad part of town. And when she accidentally killed a man, while trying to do the whole slaying vampires thing she's supposed to be doing, the Watcher's Council -- who never actually bothered to send her a new Watcher of her own -- decided to have her abducted and dragged away to England [a fate which surely nobody deserves].

Yet a part of Willow clearly thinks (and almost outright says) "oh, well, yeah, but she hangs out with Buffy sometimes when I don't get to and she slept with the guy -- not my nice boyfriend! -- who I used to have a crush on (and who I was briefly cheating on said boyfriend with), so it's clearly impossible to say which of us really had things worse and I don't need to feel sorry for her". And -- again, while this is great characterisation for Willow -- it's kind of hard not to notice that the writers think she has a compelling point.

Yes, sure, Faith has defected to working for the Mayor and has a knife drawn on Willow this scene (she's not anything like a blameless victim at this point of the story) and it takes a certain level of physical bravery for Willow to stand up for herself despite that. But ... I mean, come on. "You had friends like Buffy" is only true if you accept it to mean "you had exactly one friend, who was Buffy". "It's way too late" for Faith to seek forgiveness ... how many people has Faith killed at this point? One, by mistake? Giles has killed more people than that. "Some people think you had a lot of bad breaks?" Yeah, actually in Faith's shoes I'd want to hit Willow after she said that too.

I realize that part of the show's central thesis -- something that explicitly came up as recently as Earshot -- is the idea that everybody, regardless of how comfortable their life might seem from the outside, has their own sorrow and pain and (only occasionally metaphorical) demons to fight. But while that's not entirely wrong, it's also ... not entirely complete? Everyone has it bad sometimes, but some people really do have it worse than others. Pretending otherwise is ... not a serious position to take.

Willow's life could be better, but she's not gone through anything like Faith has. I'd argue she literally can't imagine how bad Faith's life has been. She really doesn't have as much moral authority as the show's writers think she has at this point.

[Compare this part of Season 3 with the first half of Season 6, when the show is overflowing with sympathy for Willow's abrupt descent into magic addiction but has no sympathy at all for Amy Madison, whose own magic addiction is just implied to be because she's inherently a Bad Person who Willow needs to avoid and whose own horrific past and abusive mother and complete lack of support system is just entirely forgotten about. Or, indeed, to the weird take of Dead Man's Party, which has Buffy apologize to Willow for ... what? Having problems of her own that don't revolve around Willow? Being too busy mourning the loss of everything she ever cared about to tell Willow how uniquely special and amazing she was for learning rudimentary magic? Not being grateful enough for Willow restoring Angel's soul without bothering to ask Buffy if that was something she still wanted her to try?]

So, the overall effect is ... yeah, it's a good scene. But it's almost a good scene despite the writer's intentions, not because of them. It's much less of an ambiguously triumphant moment for WIllow than I believe we're meant to read it as.

[stabortega]

NO SURPRISES — CHAPTER TWO

Summary: Having to deal with the aftermath of that situation was definitely worse then finding out the truth.

Pairing: Jenna Ortega x Fem!G!P!Reader

Warnings: NSFW. Implied fem reader, she/her pronouns used. Mentions of sex, dirty talking and sexting. Knife play. Mentions of kinks, nothing explicit. Top!Reader x Bottom!Jenna. MDNI.

Author's Note: Still think my writing is trash but you guys seem to like it. 💜

MASTERLIST.

"What the actual fuck?!" Jasmine almost yelled as Jenna shoved her inside one of the dressing rooms in the set, while she tried to shut the other actress up. "Thank god someone's paying that poor girl's college."

"This is not fucking funny, Jasmine. I shouldn't have told you." Jenna locked the door behind her, looking at her apprehensively. She made a terrible mistake by telling Jasmine what went on last night. "And now they expect me to work with her? After I-"

"Seen her dick? Oh god, what will be of you?" The black girl laughed, while sitting down on the couch. "Chill, alright? She probably doesn't even know you donated. I mean, what was your username?"

Jenna gulped. "I don't wanna say it."

"Come on, was it that obvious??" Jasmine rolled her eyes, waiting for an answer.

"It was my first name then the first four digits of my birthday."

"I cannot fucking believe you."

Living in New York wasn't easy. Every apartment was obnoxiously expensive, so you had to resort to leave the city and start living in Brooklyn. It was a nice neighborhood, the best you could afford if we're being completely honest. Moving to the big city was by far the best and the worst decision you've ever made. Other than starting college, obviously.

I mean, you loved every second of it, but it started to fuck your financial life right up the ass.

"You should create an Only Fans or something." You almost spit the whiskey shot you were drinking right back to your cup, looking at your friend as if she just told you that she had killed three men with a needle. "I'm serious, (Y/N). Do you know how much money you can get just by posting out some feet pics, or whatever?"

"I'm not gonna sell pictures of my feet for cash, Liana." She shook her head no while taking a sip of her Appletini.

"Then don't. Sell your dick pics, or livestream. Come on, I know how much you're struggling and you know you're putting that body to waste. What's the worse thing can happen?"

And she was right. You started out with just an account on that website, posting some pictures here and there; until one of your followers suggested livestreaming and said she would pay some good money just to watch you cum on your stomach (which obviously, she did). It happened so fast that, when you realized it, you were able to get yourself a better place right downtown, pay off your college debts and buy a professional video camera to shoot some amateur movies. And no, not the pornographic kind.

You wanted to be a director someday, but you were also really good with a camera; which is why you got the opportunity to work in the upcoming Scream movie as an assistant videographer (and because Liana put in a good word for you). It was your first real gig in your area of interest, you couldn't be more excited.

The first day was just like any other. You got to meet a few people and get a hold of the equipments you were going to use.

"Ay, (Y/N)! Come here for a sec!" Your boss, Dave, called your name while you were looking at one of the IMAX cameras, which you've never got the opportunity to film with. You realized he wanted to introduce you to some people, which he did. You just didn't expect it would be one of the protagonists (and the newest it actress of Hollywood). "It's a pleasure to meet you, Jenna."

You extended your hand for her to shake, which she did after looking at it for a couple of seconds, almost if she was analyzing you. "Nice to meet you too, (Y/N)."

And that was pretty much it, you guys didn't exchanged any other words besides that on that particular day. You even thought that she could be avoiding you, for whatever reason. All throughout the day, you felt her gaze on you multiple times, but everytime you looked at her, she just looked away.

"You're definitely not subtle." Jasmine whispered in Jenna's ear, while she watched you handle one of the camera films. "I'm pretty sure that she can physically feel your eyes on her butt as we speak."

"She's definitely gonna find out that I was on her stream last night." The Ortega took a deep breath, looking away when she realized you looked at her again.

"She's not, don't get paranoid. You have the most obvious and boring username ever? Yes. It would take just one Google search to figure out your identity? It would. But still!" Jenna got up from the chair she was sitting, realizing that all she wanted to do was to smoke this off.

"You're not helping, Jasmine." She took out her pack of Marlboro's and her lighter once she was outside. "I never even watched porn before, not even by myself."

"And now you donated $1500 to a complete stranger just so she could cum while moaning your name. That's a character development." Jasmine stood beside Jenna, who had just started smoking so she could even try to forget that she wanted to sit on her coworker's dick less than 24 hours ago.

"I'm never doing that again, Jasmine. It's inhumane and gross. It was the first and the last time."

jenna2709: thought about you a lot today.

"Oh, did you? Good to hear that." She locked the door behind her and sat on her bed. That was Jenna's, at least, 10th day of watching your streams nonstop. And she had just "caught" you in the beginning of your livestream (which meant that she had the notifications of your page on and was too much of a chicken to admit it). So that meant that you weren't even undressed yet, you were just rubbing your dick over your sweatpants and chatting a litte bit with your followers before you started your actual show. "What exactly were you thinking of, huh?"

jenna2709: of me sucking your cock under this table while you tell me how much of a good girl i am.

Jenna realized what she said after she already sent the message. Where did that came from? She thought while looking intensely at the livestream, hoping you would just stop with the teasing and take your cock out of your pants for her to see (and drool). "Oh baby, I'm sure you're very good with your mouth. Wanted to cum right on your throat and make you swallow every drop."

jenna2709: i would be honored to be your cum dump.

"Okay, I crossed the line." She took a deep breath, not even recognizing who was that person inside of her, the person that would say the most obscene and erotic shit that she ever heard. It was almost if something awakened inside of her everytime she saw you. Every couple of days, at exactly 10PM, she would lock herself in her hotel bedroom and fuck her pussy so deep until she passed out from having like, five orgasms. And that was the easy part, obviously. The hardest part was definitely waking up in the morning and having to look at you as if she didn't saw your dick inside of a fleshlight the night before.

Jenna grew up christian. In a american dream type of household. But getting in touch with Hollywood and all of the film industry made her get out of her bubble and quite literally, discover the world. She drank, she smoked, she went to 2AM parties at some A-List celebrity's house that she never even met before. But sex? Never sex. She met a few people here and there, but nothing further. It made her think about that, the fact that she couldn't even be interested enough in someone to actually have some sort of contact with them; but with you, she would stay all night thinking about you fucking her raw and senseless until she couldn't remember who she was.

"Stop teasing, Jenna. We both know you were born to be my cum dump, and mine only." You were so horny imagining having that stranger on her knees while she had her mouth open, waiting for you to dump your cum inside of her pretty little throat. You took your cock out of your pants, a little bit earlier than you've expected, but you were getting so worked up that you didn't even thought about your stream routine. You started to stroke the member gently, feeling your dick pulsate right on the palm of your hand. "I know that you're the only one who can take care of this right, don't you think?"

jenna2709: if you were mine, i would make you cum on my pussy everyday.

Jenna started to get scared. Who was this person that was hiding inside of her? Was she really like that? Is she the female version of Christian Grey and doesn't know it yet? How the fuck she got so horny all of a sudden?

She knew that the reason you were playing that little game with her was merely money. But there was a part of her, a tiny part that hoped that you felt attracted to her as much as she felt to you. Even if you'd never seen her face, or her body. It didn't mattered if she had just met you a couple of days ago; she wanted you to want her, the same way she wanted you.

"And if you were mine, I would carve my name on your belly so everyone would know who you belong to." Oh yes, the knife play.

Jenna wasn't naive or innocent, she knew about fetishes and BDSM practices; and thankfully there was the option of marking your kinks on your own profile when you created your account. The actress spent an embarrassing amount of time researching some of your kinks that were listed on your profile (there was so many things she didn't even knew existed, to be completely honest). And the thought of you doing all of those things with her got her aroused in a matter of seconds.

jenna2709: you could carve your name on my face, for all i care.

jenna2709: i would definitely want people to know that i'm yours.

The rest of the livestream went as usual, you doing all of the things that your subs asked you to, Jenna being awarded as the number 1 tipper for the 5th time in a row, nothing out of the ordinary. You were just about to cum for the second time when Jenna tipped you again with a request.

Wow! "jenna2709" donated $2000 with the message: i want you to cum for me, again.

"You know I never decline your requests, baby. But, let's be fair this time around?" You answered, a little bit breathless, masturbating your cock as hard as you could. "I'll give you a private livestream if you show me your face."

Oh, a private livestream?

Jenna had been following your for awhile now ever since her first time watching your stream. She knew that private livestreams weren't something you did. And yet, you were here, offering one for free, just to see Jenna's face in return. It was a really good offer, but Jenna couldn't accept. If you found out who she was, the shooting would be the most awkward work experience for both of them. It would be like, "Hey, (Y/N)? Can you get this camera ready for me? Also, I've already seen your dick and I'm having wet dreams with you fucking me like the slut I am." So, she took one last breath after she decided to stick with her original plan and decline.

jenna2709: it's a deal.

[roosterforme]

Batting Practice Part 20 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: When you call and ask him for help, Bradley is more than willing to jump into action. But when he picks up Everett and confronts Danny, he is shocked by what he finds. And while you know you can trust Bradley now, you also realize there are some battles you need to fight for yourself.

Warnings: Angst, fluff, swearing, mentions of marijuana use

Length: 4800 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female single!mom Reader

Check my masterlist for more Top Gun fun! Batting Practice masterlist.

Bradley was sitting out on his tiny balcony, about to crack open a beer when Molly called him. She had been sending him pictures for the past hour of the two of you at some wine event, and you were both definitely looking a bit tipsy.

"Hey, Molly. You two having fun?"

"Bradley!" It was you. And he could tell immediately that something had you upset.

"Kitten? What's wrong?" 

The sound of you sobbing softly met his ear, and he was out of his chair and heading inside immediately. "I need your help."

"What do you need, baby?" he asked, trying to keep his voice calm, but now he was worried. He could hear Molly talking calmly in the background while he waited for you to respond. 

"I hate to ask you to do this, but Molly and I are kind of drunk. Can you go pick Everett up for me?"

Bradley was grabbing his shoes and tying the laces before the full sentence was out of your mouth. "From Danny's?" he asked, and he had such a bad feeling. It was still a couple hours before you and Molly were supposed to even be back in the city, but you sounded distraught. 

"Yeah," you said softly. "He's at Danny's."

"I'll go get him now," he said, grabbing his key ring and spotting your house key there. "Text me his address."

"Oh my god, thank you so much," you gushed. "I'll owe you dinner-"

"Baby," he said, propping his phone between his ear and his shoulder. "You don't owe me anything. I'm happy to do it."

But you still whispered a soft, "Thank you."

"Do you want me to bring him back to my apartment? Or take him to your house?"

"Either one," you replied. "I'll try to reach Danny and let him know you're going to pick Ev up."

"Sounds good," Bradley replied, and you ended the call as he was starting the Bronco. And then he began to feel like everything wasn't adding up. You wanted him to pick Everett up, but Danny didn't know about it? 

You texted the address, and he entered it into his GPS without giving it much more thought. If you wanted him to pick up Everett, he would do it. His eyes settled on the booster seat in the back as he pulled out of his parking space, and he got on the highway to Mission Beach. 

Danny lived on a very nice street which surprised Bradley, because you had told him Everett's dad claimed he couldn't afford to pay any child support. "Fucking asshole," he muttered, putting the Bronco in park outside of the address you had sent to him. At least he probably wouldn't have to chat with Danny too much. He could just get Everett and get out. 

Bradley adjusted his backward Phillies cap and squared his shoulders before he knocked on the door. And to his surprise, Everett threw the door wide open a second later, looking thoroughly upset. 

"Coach!" And then Everett had his arms wrapped around Bradley's waist, and he was immediately hit with the smell of marijuana. Bradley wrapped a protective arm around Everett and rubbed his back. "Can you take me home?"

"Yeah," Bradley grunted, pushing the door open all the way and looking inside. "Where's your dad, Kiddo?" he managed to ask in a very calm voice, when really he just wanted to rip the door off the hinges. 

"In his room with Tori. I tried to knock, but they didn't hear me."

Bradley saw an ipad on the couch next to Everett's baseball backpack and some snack bags. "Okay. Yeah. Go grab your stuff and I'll take you home." His blood was boiling as he watched Everett swipe everything off the couch and into the bag and come running back over. Bradley took his small hand and closed the door quietly. 

Then he led Everett out to the Bronco without a word between them. Bradley knew as soon as he spoke, he was going to blow up. So he helped Everett get into the Bronco and get buckled in. And then he rolled the window down a few inches as he whispered calmly, "You stay here for just a minute, okay?" Everett nodded at him, eyes wide. This child wasn't stupid, he knew something was going on, and Bradley didn't want to upset him further. 

"Okay," Everett whispered. Bradley kissed the top of his head and locked him inside the Bronco. He would make this quick. 

Bradley's breaths were coming short and shallow as he could feel the rage flowing through his body. Either you didn't know Danny was smoking with Everett there, or for some reason you didn't mention it. Maybe you suspected something, or maybe Everett had called you on his own. Regardless, you were away and drunk, and you had trusted Bradley to take care of this situation for you. He honestly loved that you asked him for help; he would do anything for Everett. 

But there was no way he could leave without taking care of the rest of this for you whether you asked him to or not. He glanced back at Everett sitting in the car, and then he made a fist and pounded on the door until Danny started calling out, "Hang on!"

Bradley kept his hand in that tight fist as the door opened to reveal Danny who was very clearly stoned and standing next to a young woman in a tee shirt and underwear. "What the fuck do you want?" Danny asked, looking at Bradley closely for a few seconds. "Wait. Are you that tee ball coach?"

"Where's your son?" Bradley asked, clenching his right hand tighter, practically shaking with the urge to level your ex husband. "Where's Everett?" Bradley asked, trying so hard to keep his voice calm, but he could see Danny flinch. 

"Huh?" he asked, turning around and looking at the living room and kitchen. 

"Come on, Danny. Where is he? Are you so stoned you can't figure it out?" Bradley asked, his volume rising with each word. He watched the woman reach out for Danny who was looking very confused now.

"He's here somewhere," Danny muttered, clearly more interested in sex and weed than his own kid. Bradley stepped inside the house and shoved him.

"He's not here, asshole. He's in my fucking car!"

"Get the fuck out of my house," Danny said, staggering backwards as Bradley shoved him again. 

"I took your kid from your house without any issue, which you'd know if you were fucking paying attention to him instead of using drugs! In front of a six year old!" Bradley had him by the shirt collar now. 

"Do you want me to have you arrested for kidnapping?" Danny sputtered, and Bradley laughed right in his face.

"You want to call the police? Go ahead. Please do. I have permission from his mom to pick him up here. Do you have permission from his mom to smoke pot around him? You're house fucking reeks."

The woman took a step away and said, "I'll call the police."

"No! Tori, do not call the police!" Danny yelled at her as Bradley shook him until Danny met his eyes.

"Let her call," he said, much calmer now. "I'm sure they'd love to know all about this." He shoved Danny back against the wall and let go of his shirt.

"Get the fuck out of my house," Danny said more forecefully, but his eyes were still glassy and unfocused. 

"No," Bradley replied, glancing back out to make sure Everett was okay. "I'm not done yet, you piece of shit."

"Well then finish up and leave," Danny managed through clenched teeth, and Bradley thought he'd never seen someone so cowardly in his life. 

Bradley jabbed his index finger into Danny's chest until he knew it would bruise. "You don't deserve that kid, and you never did. And you better give his mom whatever she asks for, because she has been picking up your slack for years, you worthless motherfucker."

With one more glance around the house, Bradley stormed out and headed down the sidewalk back to Everett. He heard the front door slam behind him, and he had to roll his shoulders and count slowly to ten to get control of himself. He swallowed hard before he unlocked the driver's door and let himself inside the stuffy Bronco. He turned around and smiled at Everett who still looked confused and scared. 

"You hungry, Kiddo? It's almost dinner time." Everett nodded silently. "How about a Happy Meal?"

"Okay. Chicken nuggets, please," he said, and Bradley was relieved he was talking again. 

"You truly are a kid after my own heart," Bradley told him as he started the engine. He quickly texted both you and Molly and let you know he had Everett and that he'd take him to your house after stopping at McDonald's. 

"Hey, Coach?" Everett asked softly as Bradley pulled away from the curb.

"Yeah, Kiddo?"

After a beat of silence he said, "Will you tell my mom I don't want to go back to my dad's house anymore?"

Bradley could feel tears burning the backs of his eyes. Danny had the opportunity to be a dad, but he didn't want it. But as far as Carole had ever told Bradley, Nick had been so happy to be a father, it made it that much harder for them to lose him when Bradley was young. Some things were so unfair, Bradley couldn't properly put them into words. But you had to know by this point that you couldn't force Danny to do something he didn't want to do. He just didn't want to love Everett. The most lovable kid. 

"Yeah," Bradley said, his voice sounding raspy to his own ears. "I'll talk to your mom later, okay? Let's go get some chicken nuggets."

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

Molly made you walk around the vineyard for a full hour before she would let either of you near your car. And then she insisted on being the one to drive back to the city. 

Bradley had texted you to let you know that he had Everett with him, and that they would be waiting at your house. But now you were sitting in a silent car with Molly while she gripped the steering wheel. There was so much traffic, it would probably be an extra hour before you got home. 

Eventually, as you wiped more tears from your eyes, Molly asked, "Do you think he was smoking weed around Ev?"

"I don't know," you whispered. "I'm too afraid to ask Bradley what happened. I think I just need to hear everything all at once instead of texting him for bits of information." 

"Makes sense," she replied. "But I swear, I'll happily kill Danny with my bare hands. You just say the word, okay?"

You nodded silently, and looked at your phone for the hundredth time. Bradley had texted you a picture of him and Everett eating Happy Meals at your kitchen island an hour ago.

Bradley Bradshaw: We are bummed we got duplicate toys. But we are just fine. See you when you get here.

They seemed happy enough in the photo, so you kept looking at it while Molly tried to navigate through all the traffic. "Come on," she groaned, honking at someone who tried to cut her off. "What the fuck."

When she finally pulled into your driveway next to the Bronco, it was getting pretty dark, and you were out of the car before she had even parked. You ran up to the front door and jammed your key in the lock, shouldering the door open. 

But what you saw had you frozen in place, like the wind had been knocked out of you. You could hear Molly coming up the porch steps, so you signalled for her to be quiet. Then you stepped fully into your living room which Everett and Bradley had turned into a gigantic pillow and blanket fort. 

The TV was on, softly playing the end credits of Toy Story, and you had to cover your mouth with your hand to keep from laughing or crying. Because the two of them were sound asleep amongst the pillows on the floor underneath one of your fleece blankets that was stretched from the couch and over the coffee table like a tent. Bradley was laying on his back with Everett curled up against his right side, and you thought you were going to melt into a puddle. 

"Oh my god," Molly whispered, closing your front door softly and coming to stand next to you. "You need to marry him."

You had to stifle your laugh as tears filled your eyes. Bradley had taken care of everything. Sure, it was going to take you an hour to clean up this elaborate fort, but you didn't care at all. As you set your bag down and took your shoes off, Molly peeked out the front window. 

"Bob is going to pick me up so you can have a conversation with Bradley," she whispered. "Will you call me later tonight? Any time is fine."

You nodded and wrapped your arms around her, holding her tight as a few more tears fell. "Thank you for driving and for everything, Molly. I love you."

She kissed your cheek as you heard Bob's truck pull up outside. "Call me."

And then she was gone, and you were crawling inside the blanket tent and curling up against Bradley's left side. When you pressed your lips to his cheek, he started to stir. 

"Kitten," he whispered in his sleepy voice, pulling you closer as Everett continued to doze. He squeezed your hip with his big hand and kissed you softly. "You okay?"

You nodded and rested your head on his shoulder. "I'm okay now."

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

When Everett woke up to find that you were home as well, laying on Bradley's other side with your fingers stroking his mustache and scruffy cheeks, he scrambled over Bradley and into your arms.

"Mommy!"

Bradley crawled out from under the blanket fort and stretched while you held Everett and kissed him. He turned off the TV and started to clean up the wrappers from the Happy Meals as well as some of the pillows. This way he could give you some time to talk quietly with Ev. But because he wasn't sure if he should stay or leave, he lingered a bit since it was close to Everett's bedtime now. 

When you and Everett finally crawled out from under the tent, Bradley's arms were full of both of you. "Thank you." Your words weren't necessary, and you'd already thanked him so many times, but Bradley thought perhaps you needed to say them again. And now he was dreading telling you what happened at Danny's

"Will you carry me up to bed?" Everett asked, looking up at Bradley. He finally seemed like the relaxed, happy child he usually did. 

"Of course," Bradley replied, scooping him up and carrying him upstairs. In no time, he was snuggled up in bed holding the plush Phanatic in both arms. And Bradley's heart was aching. 

"Baby, we need to talk," he told you as you led him out of Everett's bedroom. 

You nodded with a look of agony on your face. "I know." You walked ahead of Bradley and went to your bed, holding the covers up for him to crawl in with you. You swallowed hard as he wrapped his arm around you so that you and he were laying face to face. "I know you won't always be able to help out like you did today."

Bradley's brow scrunched up, and he pursed his lips. "What do you mean? Of course I will."

You sighed and looked at him. "I just mean, even if we're together, you could be deployed or something."

"Kitten, I'm not going anywhere. And if I'm deployed, baby, you still have Molly and Bob. Hell, you could have called Nat for help today, too. She would have probably beat the living shit out of Danny, but she would have brought Everett home safe and sound."

You closed your eyes and pressed your face into his chest as you asked, "What happened when you got to his house?"

Bradley sighed and rubbed your back, trying to decide just how much detail to give you. The last thing he wanted was for you to feel any worse than you already clearly did. 

"Just tell me, Bradley," you gasped, gripping his shirt. But when he still hesitated, you said, "Just tell me everything."

"I knocked on the door, and Everett answered," he said softly, still rubbing small circles along your back through your shirt. "Danny was nowhere in sight, and I took Everett right outside and got him buckled into his booster seat."

You pulled away from him and stared off into space. "You...took him right out? And Danny had no idea? Why wasn't he with Everett?!"

Bradley shook his head and kissed your forehead five times before he said, "Danny was high, Kitten. He had been smoking, and the whole house smelled."

You started sobbing against his chest. "That's what I was afraid of after Everett called and told me it smelled weird. But I was trying to hope that I was wrong about it." You were quiet for a minute. "Was there a woman there?"

"Yeah," Bradley whispered. "She was high, too. After I got Ev safely locked up in the Bronco, I went back up and pounded on the door until they answered. I thought for a second that I was going to lose it and knock him the fuck out. Honestly, the only reason I didn't was because Everett was ready to leave."

You were crying in earnest now as you pushed Bradley fully onto his back. When you sat up on your knees and swiped at your tears, you said, "I don't even know why I'm crying. I am not sad, I'm furious! And now I have to go over there and talk to Danny about this!"

Bradley watched as every emotion flitted across your face, and then he sat up to give you a kiss. "Everett doesn't want to go back to Danny's house anymore. He begged me to tell you that."

You nodded and cradled your forehead in your hands. "Okay. Now I am sad."

He let you have a few minutes to process everything before saying, "If you want me to stay tonight, I'll stay. But if you want me to go so you can have some space, just say the word, and I'll lock up when I go."

"I need to call Molly. And I think I need to be alone," you whispered. But before Bradley went back to his apartment, he held you until you promised him you were feeling better.

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

When Bradley only received a few texts from you on Monday, he was beginning to feel apprehensive. But when Molly pulled into the parking lot with Everett for tee ball practice, Bradley knew something was wrong. Because he expected that you would have told him you'd be missing practice. 

"Everything okay?" he asked Molly as Everett ran over to him.

She just shrugged and handed the gear bag to Bradley when he reached for it. "I'm not sure."

He gave her an appraising look. "Where is she?" But he didn't need to ask, because he already knew. And now he was getting pissed that you hadn't told him before going over there.

"Danny's," she whispered, and Bradley started texting you right away. He would have preferred to go with you. "I told her I would take Everett home for a sleepover if she needed me to."

And then Bradley understood that you weren't expecting a positive outcome from your encounter with your ex. Fuck. He had an hour long tee ball practice to get through before he could even get over to your house to see if you needed anything. 

His patience was already short when he knelt to help Everett with his cleats before sending him out to Bob. And that's when Sandra opened her mouth. "I can't help but notice that she's not here. I think it's her turn to bring snacks."

Bradley met her eyes and watched her cheeks turn scarlet as she snapped her mouth shut. He could only imagine what he must look like right now. 

"I have the snacks and juice boxes in my car, so really there's no need to comment on anything," Molly said sweetly. "But if you do feel the need to comment further, my car is that blue Honda, and I'd be happy to meet you there after practice is over. Just keep in mind that I'm in a raging bad mood today, and I'm nowhere as nice as my sister."

"Having been on the receiving end of your rage, I can vouch for that," Bradley muttered to Molly, making her chuckle. "Hey, after practice I'm just going to head right to her house."

Molly nodded. "That's probably a good idea. I'll distract Everett this evening, but she's going to need someone to vent to, I think."

As soon as practice was over, Bradley contemplated picking up dinner, but he decided getting to you was more important. And when he let himself inside your house, he was so damn thankful he hadn't stopped anywhere on his way.

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

You hadn't even knocked on Danny's door yet, but you just knew you were about to feel his wrath. Instead of contacting him first, you simply left work and headed to Mission Beach, hoping to blindside him. 

When Danny opened his front door, he just shook his head at you. "I don't have time for this right now."

"Yes, you do," you replied, feeling your anger fill you up. 

"I'm in the middle of something," he replied, starting to shut the door. But you wedged your body in before he could close it completely. "So you're just going to barge in then? Like your boyfriend?"

"I guess so," you growled, slamming the door closed once you were inside. 

"What do you want?" he asked blandly.

Rage. That was the only thing you could feel now. "I want you to tell me what your problem is! Smoking pot while you're supposed to be watching Everett? Really?"

He got right in your face, and you staggered back against the front door. "You are the one with the fucking problem, okay? I told you I didn't want him here yesterday, but you insisted."

You pushed yourself away from the door so your chest was bumping his. He was bigger than you, but you weren't going to back down. "I gave you two options, Danny. So I guess you'll be taking the paying child support route then?"

When he clenched his fist at his side, you felt your tummy dip in fear. "We have been over this. I don't have the income for that right now."

"You have money for weed," you growled. "Why don't you give me that cash and call it a day?"

"You don't understand!" he yelled. "You never understood, and that's why we aren't married anymore."

You swallowed hard. "We're not married anymore because I left with Everett. Because we deserved better. And being on our own was a much better option than being with you. But he's still your kid! So I'm going to call my lawyer."

His eyes flashed. "You're getting a lawyer involved? I don't have money for that."

"Then what do you suggest I do, Danny?" you asked, your tone patronizing now. You knew it wasn't a good idea to goad him on, but you couldn't help yourself. "Get a time machine and convince my past self not to let you fuck me? That's what you expect me to do?"

"No!" he hollered. "I expect you to leave me the hell alone! You and Everett both! So whatever needs to be done to make that happen, that's what we are going to do!"

You were shaking now as his words sunk in. The bile started to rise up in your stomach, but you couldn't move. Your teeth started to chatter. "I can understand your anger with me," you whispered. "But you don't want him around at all?"

"No!" 

And with that one final word, you felt your stomach clench painfully. "And you're going to refuse to pay child support?"

"Yes! I don't want to have to deal with any of this!"

You sucked in a few breaths before you could speak again. "You want to sign away custody? Never spend time with your kid again?" You had to wipe your eyes to be able to see clearly.

"Yes! Use your fucking lawyer to make that happen, okay?" he barked at you, face red with anger. "I don't want you around, and I don't want him. Now, how about you get out of my house?"

Your breath was coming in short gasps and you thought you might faint. But when you didn't move fast enough for his liking, Danny physically turned you and opened the door before trying to push you outside with his hand on the back of your neck. 

"I'm not going to give you another chance with Everett after this," you said, tears dripping from your eyes as you spun around to face him. But your necklace chain was caught in his fingers, and he snapped it as he pushed you again. You caught the chain and the charm in your hand before they could drop, and you looked up at him. 

"Get out," he barked. "And don't come back until you have something for me to sign."

You squeezed your paw print charm in your hand as you ran out to your car, nearly tripping in your high heels, and started the engine. The interior echoed with your broken sobs as you made the first turn toward your house. 

Danny didn't want Everett. As hard as you tried to process things, the words just stayed at surface level, because they didn't make sense. You couldn't accept them as the truth. That was Everett's dad, and dads were supposed to want their kids around. Dads were supposed to love their children. You and Molly had been raised by older parents who loved you both, and you didn't get enough time with either of them. 

But that wasn't the case with Danny at all. Danny didn't want Everett. He just couldn't be bothered. He really was that selfish. 

What was wrong with you that you kept trying for so long? Did you really think he was going to change his mind? You left him for a reason. But you always thought that you were the problem, because how could anyone not want Everett? 

When you looked up, you were parked in your driveway. You didn't remember driving home. You walked inside to your empty house and took off your work shoes, still clutching your necklace as you walked upstairs to your bathroom. 

Danny didn't want Everett. 

You threw up in the toilet and then sat down hard on the floor. You must have done something wrong, because that was the only explanation for this. You pushed too hard, or you didn't push hard enough. Danny had wanted you to get an abortion, but you thought you were in love. You dreamed of having the perfect family, and you thought he would eventually change his mind. But he didn't. He never did. Danny didn't want Everett. 

You curled up on the bathroom floor and gripped the tub mat to your chest, still clutching your necklace, and you let yourself cry. It was all your fault. Everything was your fault. And now you were going to have to call your lawyer and explain out loud to another person that your ex husband didn't want your son. Danny didn't want Everett. As if there was some reason that your son didn't deserve to be loved. As if your six year old child had done something egregious or unforgivable. But all he had ever done was make you happy and give you purpose. How could someone not want him around? 

"Oh god," you gasped as your tears rolled down your cheeks and onto the floor. At least Molly would take care of Everett for the night, because you wouldn't be able to look him in the eye right now. It would be a while before you could process all of this. "Why?" you sobbed, unable to catch your breath. You rolled onto your back and draped your arm over your eyes, but the pain in your chest just grew worse and worse, and you started gagging on your tears. 

You couldn't catch your breath, and you couldn't hear anything past the wretched sobs filling the small room. Until you saw movement out of the corner of your watery eyes. 

"Oh, Kitten. I'm here." And then you felt him lay down next to you and collect you into his arms as you sobbed harder.

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

Yes, Coach! Stepping up and taking care of things, but putting Ev first! I feel terrible for Kitten. She really can't understand Danny. Thanks to @beyondthesefourwalls and @mak-32!

PART 21

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[canisalbus]

It's probably fair to say that, as a child, Machete's goal was to just survive. Even as a young adult, survival obviously remained a principle goal.

But slowly, over time, he gained power, and is now a cardinal. He no longer struggles to fend off death (weakened constitution notwithstanding.) He probably still sees himself as trying to survive day-to-day, but clearly it becomes more than that, even if he's not fully cognizant of it.

I guess what I'm wondering is, besides "survival", what are Machete's goals? As a cardinal or otherwise. What prevents him from leaving or resigning his post? Does he have aspirations other than Vasco? Does he see himself as subservient to God, or is it something else?

I'd say his aspirations are pretty mundane. Security and stability are probably the biggest priorities overall, financially and health-wise. He doesn't thrive in unreliable and unpredictable surroundings. The fact that he knows he will have his basic needs met for the foreseeable future, there are people ready to prepare him a warm bath at a moment's notice, a reputable doctor to look after him, and armed guards that are never too far away, eases his mind considerably. A large part of his work revolves around routine, carefully crafted plans and immutable etiquette, with relatively few unpleasant surprises. He's so high in the hierarchy that very few people can treat him disrespectfully and get away with it.

He wants to prove that he's capable, competent and useful. His deeply rooted inferiority complex (that largely stems from the demeaning and belittling way his mentor treated him when he was his apprentice) has made him a lifelong overachiever, which in turn has served him well in his career. He's ambitious and driven but I wouldn't call him power-hungry in an egoistical way, he can come across as overbearing but it's because he's a perfectionist control freak who's obsessed with doing his job well and has a tendency to think most people around him aren't up to the task. He isn't in it for fame and wealth in itself, it's more about having a purpose that makes you worthy of respect.

On a more personal level he's passionate about reading, studying and learning. Partly because he's inquisitive and genuinely enjoys it, knows he's good at it and feels good about being good at it, but also because he wants to be the most learned, most cultured and most academic person in the room. Not necessarily for bragging rights, but to feel like being smart will always keep him one step ahead of the others and that way no one can pull the rug from under his feet.

He would never be able to afford the things he wears and the luxuries he has access to if his life hadn't taken the exact turns it did. He spent his early childhood in a monastery and was trained by a priest who valued asceticism and self-denial so he didn't have a lot of nice things growing up. Now as a high ranking church official he has more spending money than he could've imagined, and while he has an expensive taste, he oftentimes fails to enjoy the benefits of his status properly. He has a comfortable home with a massive bed, but it's not uncommon for him to sleep in his office or forgo rest completely. Even though he could be savoring the rarest most complex dishes every day, there aren't a lot of foods he likes eating. He would like to look pretty but even his outlandishly costly and carefully tailored silk garments can't redeem the fact he doesn't feel comfortable in his skin.

He can't resign because his sense of self-worth and lifestyle are tied to his job. It's the one thing he's demonstrably skilled at. He's worked himself to the bone to get where he is now and the prospect of losing it is simply unfathomable. He doesn't have ties to his biological family and his friends are few and far between, if he gave up his position he'd have functionally no one to rely on but Vasco. On top of that he does feel like he owes his life to the church and serving it to his best ability is his lot in life. His state of faith and relationship with God is complicated at best but he's nonetheless terrified of what might happen and how he might be punished if he ever chose to abandon his post.

[ijwrsmff]

hiiii, I was wondering if you could write live action mihawk and reader dining at the baratie?(it doesnt have to be meeting the crew, it could just be a date?) have a wonderful day! <333

I most certainly can!!! He was cast so well, my god. I don't think there's been any casting in the Live Action that wasn't just. Perfectttttttt. Sanji shows up briefly, but it's before he joined the strawhats. I've also only seen Mihawk's intro, so all my knowledge of this fic was based off that and what I know about him in the anime. So if things are a little bit off I'm sorry :,3 I plan to watch more tonight after writing for a while.

He's very soft in this one.

Word Count: 1,270

Today was special! It would be your six month anniversary with your boyfriend. It was odd at first, even considering dating the greatest swordsman in the world. He was cold and calculating, but he did have a soft side. You were glad you gave him the chance, and got to see it. 

He was never embarrassed to be with you, and in fact…showed you off with pride. He would sit and feed you if you asked, doted on you, whatever you wanted. A dominant soul, but he was aware of that and embraced it. He would always be at your beck and call. Protecting you, even just with his status in the world. No one dared mess with you. 

Mihawk had suggested the place that you met as your anniversary date. The Baratie, world renowned. Often people would sit on the waitlist around holidays, or even just weekends. But he never needed a reservation, he was a loyal customer at this point. It was a special place to you both, and it would be the perfect location for any anniversary. 

“Would you like me to order for you?” He knew you could get anxious about ordering, so he always offered. You didn’t always even need him to, but it was a nice gesture. “What would you like? I could order it. Never worry about price, darling.” He smiled momentarily, not showing his smile often. Unless he was with you. It was heartwarming, to say the least. 

Mihawk wasn’t the most wealthy man in the world…but he was pretty damn close. Not everyone can afford their own island and castle. But he certainly could, and with ease, too. He still managed to be humble, in some ways despite that fact. He would continue to buy you anything you could ever want. He’d make sure you got it, as soon as you did so much as to look at something for a few seconds. 

“I’m okay! I can order this time.” You smiled at him, and he nodded in confirmation, smiling back momentarily. “What are you gonna get?” You looked through the menu for a little bit, trying to decide on some of your favorites. They always have such good food. It was hard to pick most of the time, and they probably knew it too. 

“I’ll go with my usual, do you need help picking something?” He offered, always willing to help you. He could be so considerate, and kind. Not to everyone, but especially to you. “I can recommend something based on your likes and dislikes.” He smiled, this time for longer. He could always relax more when you were around. It may not look like it to others, but he was pretty relaxed right now, enjoying your anniversary with him as much as you were. 

“Hm…I was thinking about these two, but I can’t decide which one I want more!” You looked at the menu for so long that you didn’t notice the waiter coming to your table until he spoke. It startled you a bit, and you jumped, making both the waiter and Mihawk chuckle. 

The waiter’s name was Sanji, and he looked at you with what could have been hearts for eyes. But he knew better than to say anything after last time. Wouldn’t stop him from looking though. When you were here before, he had flirted with you. Mihawk…being him was confident you wouldn’t leave him for the waiter. But he did warn him with a “If you’d like to keep your hands, I suggest you keep them away from my partner.” He was protective, but you knew he wouldn’t actually fight the waiter. 

Mihawk didn’t result to violence, so you knew it was an empty threat. His amused look he directed at you proved that fact. Sanji didn’t know that though, and raised his hands in defeat, saying you’d be protected well by the greatest swordsman in the world. “Allowed” Mihawk to be with you. Because apparently according to him you needed that affirmation. It was amusing to the both of you, at least. 

Dinner went by smoothly, and you talked the majority of the time. Mihawk was an amazing listener, but not too much of a talker. He was more content to listen to everything you said, and his memory was so good he had no problem remembering all the stories you told. Sometimes he would pitch in, or ask active listening questions to show you had his undivided attention. 

Out of nowhere though, he tilted his head and looked at you as if you were the brightest star in the sky, uttering an “I love you.” As you were about to finish your food. He did like to throw that out there often, and only became more frequent as your relationship progressed. “Would you like to order a dessert?” It was another way he said he loved you. By offering you what he could effortlessly provide. 

“Mhm! And I love you too.” You giggled and finished your food, as he flagged down the waiter and ordered your favorite dessert they had. You didn’t even have to tell him what it was, he remembered. He always did. “Would you like to share it?” Was your offer, though you already knew his answer. 

“One bite will suffice. The dessert is for you, afterall.” He smiled, and allowed you to talk until the dessert arrived. Once it did, he opened his mouth expectantly, waiting for you to feed it to him. 

You did so, without being prompted to. It was always so cute to you when you fed each other. He could care less if the people in the restaurant saw the display of affection. He swirled the spoon with his tongue, making eye contact with you the whole time. 

“You’re such a tease!” You giggled and he smiled softly. It was a funny and domestic moment, and it made you say, “I do love you though. No matter how much of a tease you can be.” As you winked at him. He winked back, but relaxed in his seat while you ate. 

Reclining a bit, you finished the dessert. He talked for a bit through it, mostly how his island was doing since you hadn’t been to it in a couple weeks. As much as you loved him listening, he had such a soothing voice. It was cool, and deliberate. He never said something that wasn’t important. Or a compliment to you, which was just as important to him as it could be. 

He packaged up your remaining entre for you, and stood up to leave. “That was a wonderful date, darling.” He said as he left the money on the table. It had a generous tip, since he always makes sure to do so. “Would you like me to drop you off at your island?” His arm was around your waist, to make sure you didn’t fall off when getting onto his small “boat”. 

“I wouldn’t mind spending time on your island! I know we won't get back anytime soon…but it’s your home.” You smiled, and sat on his lap when he made his place on the boat. “I’d like to spend more time with you!” He wrapped his arms around your middle, and the boat began to move. 

“One day it will be OUR home. I never mind spending more time with you, either.” He sighed, and rested his head on your shoulder. “Whenever you’re ready, it can be yours.” He placed a soft kiss on your cheek, making you giggle. 

“We’ll have time. As long as you’ll have me.” 

“Now and always.” 

[lexirosewrites]

i know it's getting late to be sending in slick sunday stuff, so totally expecting this to be put off until next week, but i have to get it out before i forget.

so a couple weeks ago, i thought of this o!steve / a!eddie idea while listening to next contestant by nickelback (gloomysoup listening to nickelback? more likely than you might think) if you've never listened to that song specifically, i highly recommend it. one of my favs on that album. anyway, back to slick sunday and off my brief nickelback tangent (which those who follow me probably see enough of already)

some of the details are a little hazy, but omega!steve is a stripper at this club. it's a nice club, honestly. imagining beta or omega!robin is a bartender or something, maybe dj. again, details are hazy and nothing set in stone. enter alpha!eddie, who is a very feared mafia boss. he hangs around the club often, always watching the dancers and other staff very closely. he's known for tipping well, but never asks for private dances. no one really knows why, but the tips are absolutely nothing to complain about. and he tips everyone, not just the dancers. nights that he's there, even the bartenders and waitresses leave with full pockets in a way they wouldn't on any normal night.

what no one at the club (except the "owner", alpha!chrissy) knows is that eddie is actually the big boss. he owns the whole thing, a major front for his behind the scenes businesses, letting chrissy take the title and do all the main business stuff. chrissy is his best friend, his second in command, and she does a lot of other stuff for eddie's "business" too. this is just one of her more public responsibilities.

from the moment steve first took the stage at this particular club, he's noticed eddie's eyes on him more than any of the other dancers. eddie is obsessed with him. he decides very quickly that he has to have this omega, and this omega alone. he starts his courting attempts, trying to remain mostly subtle at the beginning. flowers and notes and the occasional gift left in the locker room for steve, signed with a simple letter 'E'. steve knows who they're all from, though. he entertains it for a while, but doesn't take it seriously. he doesn't know what this mysterious, wealthy alpha's intentions are. soon, he starts to wear down a little. figures, fuck it. if he accepts, he'll be set for life. he'd never have to worry about how he was going to pay his bills again. he'd be taken care of, financially. and maybe, if he's lucky, he'll get a few of those pups he's always wanted out of the arrangement.

what he doesn't count on, though, is actually falling in love. eddie's sweet, and dorky, and attentive. he lavishes steve with more than just expensive gifts and grand dates. he loves him, practically worships the ground he walks on. steve hadn't expected to fall, but there he was, ass over tits for this dangerous alpha.

relationship thoroughly established, and the pair well on their way to a perfect happy mating, steve is still working at the club. he loves his job, at least he does most days, and he doesn't want to give it up just because he can afford to stop working. just because eddie happily pays for all his wants and needs. plus, it keeps him active, and eddie certainly isn't complaining about the added bedroom benefits. eddie would never stop steve from doing something he loves, though, so he's happy to watch his boy at work. he's at the club every night, and he never strays far from steve, always watching with stars in his eyes.

something important to note, though, is that eddie is possessive. he knows steve is hot, and it's clear that everyone else in the club knows it too, but he doesn't like others touching what's his. when a patron gets a little handsy, or makes a comment that makes eddie's skin crawl, it isn't long before they're taught a lesson. he's always there and ready to swoop in if steve gets uncomfortable, and he's always the one taking steve home at the end of the night.

steve doesn't know any of this is happening, though. not at first. it takes a long time for him to pick up on anything. once he starts noticing things, though, he gets suspicious. there are fewer comments made, and patrons are a lot less handsy than before. he notices that some of his problem customers have been mysteriously disappearing.

he confronts eddie about it, of course. they get into a big argument. steve doesn't need eddie's help. it's his job. he handles it just fine on his own. he doesn't need eddie going behind his back to make examples out of his customers. he stays the night at robin's that night.

it isn't until a few nights later that steve understands it. he sees eddie's face when someone makes a grab for steve's ass as he's walking by. watches the way it hardens, his eyes dark with possession. the jealousy, the borderline fury. it all makes sense. and honestly, it sends a chill up steve's spine. he's dripping by the time he has a spare moment to pull eddie aside, straight into the back office and clicking the lock on the door.

obviously they fuck nasty about it, and it becomes a Thing™️ for them.

-

that turned out really long, but hey, what's new? anyway, there's my stripper!steve and mafia boss!eddie au that's been swirling around my brain for a couple weeks. hopefully it's also a nice break from all the sad stuff i've been sending in lately haha

happy slick sunday :))

steve’s a slut for his jealous alpha🥰🥰🥰