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#I hope you enjoy! I had a lot of fun writing this one
pinkyqil · 19 hours
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can you write something for lia walti x leah williamson x reader?
Yours truly
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lia x leah x r
Summary : you surprise your girlfriends at there game after being on tour for months inspired by this
Author's note : thank you so much to the both anons who sent me this fic idea especially to the other anon who helped me figure out what to do with it I hope you all enjoy the fic and it reaches your expectations 💗.
© PINKYQIL
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Your girlfriends were footballers while you were artist who always found herself in the studio or on tour.
A lot of people tell you it won't work out because of your distances and work load and all but you guys do make it work which was all that mattered.
You had recently got off tour after the making of your third full album and a world tour.
you had told your manager that you would be staying in London for the mean time before needing to get back in the studio after your hiatus.
Your girlfriends don't know about it any of your plans yet as you wanted to surprise them.
Arriving at your shared penthouse which often wasn't used as you weren't always there but things are about to change.
You had texted Beth to let her know about your plans as she was really close to leah and that's how you connected.You needed someone to show you around this familiar city even though you've came to london for tour you never really had the chance to explore it.
So Beth had offered to show your around before their home game against chelsea today. you we're having a lot of fun with Beth as she explained the rivalry between arsenal and Chelsea too you.
It wasn't that you didn't have that much of a football knowledge in fact you did having to grown up in a household full of man and women obsessed.
with the game and took it all seriously especially growing up with brother's who played too.You just weren't fawn of it but for your girls everything mattered.
Beth had drop you back home so that you could change into something more comfortable for the match you decided on one of Leah's sweater that you found and a black pair of high waisted pants that belong to lia.
Arriving at the emirates stadium you first bought yourself an arsenal scaf so you wouldn't get recognized by both leah and lia in the family and friends section and enjoy the game from nosy fans.
Lia and Leah knew something was up with you when you three were on call you kept rushing the call and looking super stressed about something which they planned to call you again after today's game to find out what was happening with you.
Least to say you where able to surprise your girls after they won a 3-1 to chelsea. Once the bell whistle rang Beth immediately came your way helping cross over to get out of the friends and family section. It had the whole team confused plus her girlfriend and yours.
to say the confusion left there faces as soon as they saw you walking towards the pitch.
Leah had grabbed lia's hands so that they could run towards you. saying that you got tacked by your lovers with hugs would be an understatement.
"I can't believe that your here". Lia said helping you get up.
"Well surprise". You told them both
"That why you we're acting all weird on the phone the other day". leah told you.
"No I wasn't".
"Baby you definitely where". she said
"Whatever". you rolled your eyes at her
"Oh come on you guys". beth intervened
"Yeah you two". Lia added in before you all busted out laughing. You honestly missed the dynamic between the three of you and it was obvious they did to.
Yourusername&2other
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all day everyday day with my girls 💏 liked by bethmead katie_mccabeand and 988,506
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tempting fate in the CEO's office
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pairing: father's business rival CEO!bucky barnes x female reader
summary: you visit your boyfriend in his office to show off your new lingerie, and you end up playing a reckless game when he hast to join a conference call—a call that your father will be on.
warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!!), smut, piv sex, creampie, cockwarming, dry humping, little bit of come play, light teasing, choking, light bdsm, semi-public sex, sex with the risk of being caught, exhibitionism, dirty talk, light degradation, praise kink, pet names (darling), unspecified age gap, fluff, established relationship
word count: 6,300ish
a/n: ok! this took me ages because i started writing it before moving and it was difficult to get back into it, but i'm pretty happy with how it turned out all things considered. this chapter is set in bucky's office because that was what won the poll i posted. it was fun to write, and i already started writing the next chapter, so i hope y'all enjoy!!
tempting fate in the park (part 1)
tempting fate on the terrace (part 2)
tempting fate in the CEO's office (part 3)
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You’d done a lot of reckless things in your life—like wearing a dress with nothing underneath it to the park, or starting a secret relationship with your father’s biggest business rival—but walking into the busy lower Manhattan office building of CEO Bucky Barnes wearing nothing but a set of lingerie, a long trenchcoat and heels had to top the list.
Still, you didn’t feel any trepidation. Not even as the bottom hem of your jacket fluttered around your thighs, threatening to give anyone in the lobby a peak at the lacy undergarments you’d worn specifically for Bucky. But, though every step was a potential disaster—because if you did flash someone in the lobby your most intimate bits, it would surely get back to your father—you didn’t falter. 
The points of your heels clicked confidently against the marble floor of the lobby and a fearless smile curled your lips. You were having fun with your reckless behavior. Excitement and desire fizzled in your belly, making you feel like you were walking on air as you crossed the floor to the elevator bank that would take you up to the C-suite offices, where you knew Bucky would be.
While you rode the elevator, you couldn’t help but think about how Bucky would react when you walked into his office wearing only lingerie and a jacket. You could easily picture the way he’d look at you—his brilliant blue eyes darkening and his mouth curling into a smirk. And you couldn’t wait to tell him that he was the one to buy you the matching set. 
He’d given you his black Amex and told you to buy something pretty for yourself, despite the fact that you had plenty of money from your parents. You were your father’s daughter, after all, and he’s given you a generous allowance, even as an adult. But Bucky had insisted you spend his money for a change—so you decided you were going to insist he appreciate the pretty lingerie he’d paid for…while it was on your body.
Your smile deepened as the elevator doors slid open soundlessly and you walked into the lobby of the company’s C-suite, giddy excitement thrumming through your body. You couldn’t wait to see Bucky’s reaction to your outfit, but even more than that, you were excited to see your boyfriend.
It still felt a little strange to think of Bucky as your boyfriend. You’d known him as nothing more than your father’s hot business rival for so long, and your relationship was still so new and covert. Neither of you had told anyone about it yet. Everyone in both your circles of friends knew each other, and they all knew your father, so it was too risky. 
But Bucky was your boyfriend, and that knowledge made your heart beat faster in your chest, your smile widening even further.
You were still wearing your slightly goofy smile when you walked up to the desk where Bucky’s secretary sat. She was an older woman with kind eyes, and when you gave your name, recognition dawned in her expression. Her face creased with delicate crinkles as she offered you a genuine smile and waved you into Bucky’s office. 
As you were walking past, she made a comment that Bucky had given her strict orders to always allow you into his office. Your goofy, happy smile got even goofier and happier at that bit of information, and you pushed through the door into Bucky’s office.
The first thing that struck you about the space was how warm and cozy it felt despite the fact that two full walls were taken up by floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking New York City. The whole of Manhattan sprawled out at Bucky’s feet, and you couldn’t help but understand the city’s desire to do so. In your experience, being at Bucky’s feet was an enjoyable place to be.
You bit back a smirk as you looked around the office, taking in the dark wooden furnishings and gold accents. There were plush rugs beneath a small seating area off to one side and another under Bucky’s big desk, giving the space a homey feel that reminded you of his penthouse apartment. The office was professional, but it managed to feel like Bucky, and you couldn’t help but smile at that.
When you turned your attention to the CEO, you found him watching you as you took in his office for the first time. His blue eyes were sparkling and he had a pleased expression on his face.
“Darling,” Bucky rumbled as a greeting, a smile curling the corners of his mouth. 
He looked so handsome, wearing a slate gray suit with a black shirt beneath, the colors contrasting with his golden skin and dark brown beard. His blue eyes were two stars in the sky, and his mouth was a charming curve that made you ache to kiss him. 
When you didn’t respond—because you were too wrapped up in appreciating the attractiveness of your boyfriend—Bucky leaned back in his leather office chair. His eyes stayed fixed on you, his chin tilting up, and you couldn’t help but think he looked like a king lording over his court.
It made you want to kneel.
Instead, you murmured his name with a smile, “Jamie,” and strolled over to his desk, one hand playing with the belt of your jacket that was keeping it cinched around your waist. “I’m not interrupting, am I?” you asked innocently as you walked around his desk and stepped between his spread legs, your sassy smile making it clear you didn’t care if you were.
Bucky only seemed happy to see you, pushing closer in his chair so his hands could slip around the backs of your bare thighs, making you shiver as he murmured, “Never.” 
His head was tilted back a bit to meet your eyes, and his gaze was impossibly soft as he stared at you, making you feel hot and flustered all over—particularly between your thighs. To steady yourself, you slid your arms around his shoulders and ducked down to drop a kiss to his lips, smiling at the slight rasp of his beard. He tasted like coffee.
“Did you have a nice shopping trip?” Bucky asked, his voice quiet and warm in a way that made you want to melt into him. Your fingers idly played with the soft brown hair at the nape of his neck and his smile turned a little mischievous as he asked, “Did you buy yourself something pretty like I asked?” 
Impossibly, you’d forgotten the outfit you’d worn into Bucky’s office, but his question reminded you of the lacy lingerie that was hidden beneath your jacket. You smiled like the cat that got the cream and nodded at your boyfriend, fluttering your lashes at him as you asked a question of your own. 
“Do you want to see, Jamie?” You leaned back and played with the ends of the belt keeping your jacket tied tight around your body, enjoying the way Bucky’s eyes dipped curiously down to your hands. 
His gaze heated, a grin spreading across his face as he slid his hands up from your thighs to your belt. He paused before untying it, flicking his eyes up to yours. When you nodded, Bucky slowly undid the knot, his fingers brushing against your bare skin as he parted the jacket to see what you’d been hiding.
The sharp breath Bucky sucked in when he saw the pretty lingerie you wore, your curves swathed in lace that he’d paid for, was immensely satisfying. Bucky pushed the trenchcoat off your shoulders and let it fall to pool at your feet while his eyes roved over your body like they couldn’t get enough. 
Then his hands seemed to be everywhere—brushing against the sides of your breasts, smoothing over the curve of your waist, groping your plush hips. He touch you greedily as his eyes seemed to devour your appearance, taking in the way the lingerie clung to your body, the way it framed your breasts and barely covered your mound. 
The blue of his eyes had darkened to the color of the ocean by the time he returned his gaze to yours. All he said was, “Darling,” his voice little more than gravel, as if he was overcome by the sight of you in your new matching set. Your breath caught in your throat at the emotion swirling in Bucky’s eyes. “You’re gorgeous,” he rasped. 
A pleased heat spread through your chest, warming your cheeks, and you smiled happily at the sincerity in Bucky’s words. “Thank you, Jamie,” you murmured, ducking down to press another quick kiss to your boyfriend’s lips. 
But Bucky caught you around the back of your neck, murmuring, “C’mere,” before reeling you back in and deepening the kiss. He kissed you thoroughly, his hands sliding down your body to the backs of your thighs, and then he was pulling you into his lap, your knees on either side of his legs so you were straddling him in his leather chair.
So much of your bare skin brushed against Bucky’s suit, and though the fabric was soft, it was a reminder of how little clothing you were wearing. You shivered when Bucky’s fingers traced down your spine, pressing you flush to his chest, the lace of your lingerie teasing your nipples deliciously so that you whimpered into his mouth. 
By the time Bucky pulled away, your lips were swollen from his kisses and the wetness gathering between your thighs had dripped into your panties. When you squirmed on Bucky’s lap, rubbing your chest against his and enjoying the electric shocks of pleasure to your nipples, you felt his bulge press against your lace-covered core. You couldn’t help the little whine that escaped when you rubbed against the hot, hard length of him.
“Jamie,” you mewled, rocking against Bucky’s bulge, not caring in the least that his secretary was sitting just outside the office door. All that mattered was the way Bucky’s cock twitched when you whimpered his name.
“Darling,” Bucky groaned, pleasure soaking his tone—but there was a warning in his voice, too. When his hands grabbed your hips, he didn’t urge you on like you expected. He forced you to stop. You whined pitifully, leaning back to catch your boyfriend’s eye and pouting up at him. “I’m due on a call any minute,” he explained, a regretful look on his face.
You knew you should leave him to it. Bucky was a busy man, after all, and he needed to work—especially if he was going to buy you more expensive lingerie—which you hoped he would considering his reaction to seeing you in your new matching set. You knew it was still early in the afternoon and you should be content with the few moments you’d stolen of his time already.
But your reckless impulses were too loud to ignore, so instead of sliding off Bucky’s lap and putting your jacket back on, you pressed closer, your soft tits trapped against his hard chest. Your lips brushed the shell of Bucky’s ear as you leaned in, making him shudder beneath you.
“Why does that mean we have to stop?” you asked in a soft, sultry tone. Rolling your hips slowly, you rocked your lace-covered core against your boyfriend’s hard cock in a decadent drag that had both of you letting out little groans. “I’m all dressed up in the pretty lingerie you bought for me, why don’t you let me sit on your lap during your call.” 
You nipped at Bucky’s ear before pressing a kiss to his neck just beneath it, enjoying the rumble in his chest as he bit back a moan. 
“And since I’m on your lap, why don’t you let me keep your cock warm in my pussy—‘m so warm and wet for you, Jamie, and I promise I’ll be so quiet while you’re on your call.” 
Bucky chuckled, both of you knowing full well that you were lying, but he didn’t call you out on it like you expected. Instead, he went a different route, surprising you. 
“Are you sure, darling?” he purred, pressing a suckling kiss to the side of your neck that had your head tilting to the side to give him more access. You were so consumed by how good his soft mouth and rough beard felt against your skin that you almost missed his next words. “Every major CEO in the city is going to be on this call—including your father.”
You froze on Bucky’s lap, not even his mouth working against your neck distracting you from what he’d said. Despite your good sense—at least, what little was left of it with Bucky’s bulge pressing between your thighs—you knew you shouldn’t be thinking about tempting fate in a CEO’s office while he was on a call with your father and all their colleagues. But… Well, you wouldn’t be you if you didn’t enjoy the thrill the the idea gave you.
And it was that side of you that prompted you to purr in your boyfriend’s ear, “I’m sure, Jamie,” as you melted back against his chest. A wicked smirk curled your lips as you issued a challenge to the CEO, “In fact, I’m sure that if one of us is going to give us away to my father, it won’t be me.”  
The chuckle Bucky let out was practically sinister, and your hips squirmed reflexively, grinding your wet slit against his hard cock through your clothes. You managed to hold back the soft moan that wanted to escape, and you were proud of yourself. But then Bucky issued a challenge of his own that had you scurrying.
“Well, then, you’ve got about five minutes to get my cock out, darling,” Bucky said, sounding like he relished giving you a deadline and making you hurry. “Or your sweet moans as I’m stretching out that tight little hole of yours are bound to give you away in an instant.”
Desire flushed hot through your body as you scrambled to reach between your bodies and undo Bucky’s pants. He leaned back in his chair and held your gaze, his blue eyes darkening when you pulled down his zipper, both of you smiling at each other. Reaching into his slacks, you pulled Bucky’s cock free, giving him a quick, appreciative stroke and nearly purring at the velvet-wrapped steel in your hand. 
“Hurry, darling,” Bucky drawled, an unrepentant smirk curling his mouth as his eyes went hooded. “Only a few minutes left before I join this call with your father.”
As you lined yourself up with Bucky’s cock, he reached for the phone on his desk. The robotic musical notes of his fingers dialing felt like a ticking clock and your heart beat faster in your chest. Hooking a finger around the lace covering your dripping slit, you pulled your panties to the side so you could sink down on your boyfriend’s hard length.
A loud, filthy moan squeezed free from your lungs, your head tipping back in bliss as you impaled yourself on Bucky’s perfect cock. It felt as exquisite as it always did, Bucky’s thick girth stretching out your tight little hole as he slid inside you. Your moan turned into a high keening sound as you pushed down further on him, the sound filling his office.
The rumble of Bucky’s laughter teased your ears, but as you lifted yourself up only to slide down further on his stiff length, the sound dissolved into a low groan. Lifting your head, you locked eyes with Bucky while you lowered yourself down on the final few inches of his cock, both of you watching each other as your expressions contorted in pleasure. It felt divine to share the moment with Bucky, and it was made all the sweeter with the impending call dangling over your heads.
Your boyfriend wrapped his hand around the front of your throat and reeled you in for a hot, messy kiss, shoving his tongue in your mouth and taking possession of you in a matter of seconds. His lips were demanding, his tongue forceful, and it made all thoughts flee from your mind. You were desire incarnate and you were consumed by the feeling of Bucky inside you, around you, everywhere.
By the time Bucky pulled away, you were panting for more, your hips rocking impatiently on his cock. But Bucky pressed a steadying hand to your lower back, urging you to still, and then he tapped a button on the phone on his desk, his voice drifting past your ear and sounding exactly as he normally did.
“Good afternoon, gentlemen,” Bucky rumbled smoothly, sounding every bit like the polished CEO that he was. Meanwhile, you pressed your mouth against Bucky’s neck to muffle the heavy breaths that you were still dragging in, willing your heart to slow down from its excited pace. 
But as you calmed, you were able to take stock of your predicament. You were seated on Bucky’s lap, his cock buried in your cunt while you wore nothing more than lingerie and he was still dressed mostly in his suit. To make matters more complicated, he’d just joined a conference call that your father would also be on. You’d perhaps gone far past tempting fate in the CEO’s office, but you couldn’t bring yourself to regret the decisions that had led you to that moment.
Not when there was some fun to be had with your boyfriend. 
While the men on the call greeted each other and talked about their latest golf games, the state of the new Yankees season, and their families—in that order—you focused entirely on Bucky. Looping your arms tighter around his shoulders, you tucked your face into the crook of his neck. Your mouth found the pulse point at the side of his throat, just above the collar of his shirt, and you began sucking softly on the spot that you knew would drive him wild before long.
But then your father’s voice sounded from the speaker on Bucky’s phone—the all too familiar sound of him apologizing for being late—and your entire body clenched tight with surprise and more than a little deviant thrill. When your pussy clutched Bucky’s cock hard, it wrung a strangled sound from the boyfriend your father had no idea you had.
“Y’alright there, Barnes?” your father asked jovially, a tiny hint of the ire he actually felt toward his fellow CEO in his tone. Your father may have hated Bucky, but he knew how to keep up appearances. Mostly.
However, if he ever found out about your relationship with Bucky… You shuddered to think about it.
“Yeah,” your boyfriend responded easily, his hand rubbing soothing circles on your lower back that had you relaxing in his arms. “Just some whiskey down the wrong pipe.”
You bit your lip to suppress the urge to make a snarky remark about taking his cock down your pipe and instead listened as the men on the call all chuckled good-naturedly. Your father’s jocular tone cut through the din as it subsided.
“Hope you’re not getting sick, Barnes,” he said, sounding friendly enough. But there was an undercurrent of malice in his words that made it sound like he was actually hoping for the opposite. Then, as you wondered whether everyone on the call could hear the antagonism in your father’s voice, he dropped all pretenses as he commented, “Though I suppose you don’t have to worry about a girlfriend or wife nagging you to get some rest.” He paused for a moment, like he was relishing his next jab. “You can just call one of your bimbos to take care of you, maybe they’ll take pity on you and give you a discount on their hourly rate.” 
It took every ounce of your self-control not to groan at your father’s comment, but it seemed at least some of the other CEOs on the call didn’t have as tight a grip on their willpower. Frustrated huffs and annoyed groans sounded from the speaker, and you could’ve sworn you hear someone mutter, “Not this again.”
You nearly snorted at the comment, but kept quiet, kissing Bucky’s neck in reassurance that you didn’t take your father’s words to heart. The decision to keep your relationship a secret from your father was one you’d made together, and you knew those kinds of comments were par for the course for Bucky. After all, he was a hot, rich and presumedly single CEO. Of course your father would make an insinuation that he paid for sex. 
But Bucky wasn’t ruffled in the slightest by your father’s dig. If anything, he sank deeper into his plush leather office chair, one of his hands resting possessively against your lower back. Your lips curled and you smirked against Bucky’s neck, nuzzling into him as you felt his cock shift inside you. You squeezed him with your inner walls and he let out a nearly silent snort before responding to your father.
“Don’t worry about me, chief,” he drawled, a little bit of patronizing humor in his tone, especially when he used the nickname to mock your father. “I’m well taken care of.” Bucky’s hand smoothed up and down your spine, making you purr softly in his ear. You could hear the pleased smile in his tone as he went on. “By the way, how’s the family?”
You nearly choked on a laugh, biting down on Bucky’s shoulder through his jacket and shirt to muffle the sound, as your father grumbled and grudgingly muttered, “They’re fine, Barnes, thank you for asking.” His voice was so stiff, and he was so clearly disappointed Bucky hadn’t risen to his bait, that he was clearly trying to save face in front of all the other CEOs. 
You smirked to yourself, leaning up so you could murmur in Bucky’s ear, “Mm, some of us are much better than fine.” Your voice was barely a whisper so you knew the men on the call wouldn’t hear, but Bucky squeezed your hip in warning, which only made you snicker softly. In retaliation, you clenched your pussy around his cock, making your boyfriend grunt quietly.
Bucky’s other hand wrapped around your throat and he gently pushed you back until you were able to see his face. You’d half expected him to be glaring at you for trying to get him to make a noise that would get the attention of the call, but you should’ve known your boyfriend better—he was just as reckless as you. 
Instead of a glare, Bucky’s expression was one of amusement, his blue eyes dancing with mischief and his mouth curved into a smirk that you wanted to lick right off his face. “You’re playing with fire, darling,” Bucky mouthed, but there was no real warning in his words. If anything, it made you want to try harder to get him to make a sound that would get the attention of the other CEOs.
As the business part of the conference call finally began, Bucky made a show of settling back into his chair, reclining his head and giving you a challenging look. An impish smile curled your lips and you rolled your hips. You watched Bucky’s eyes droop in pleasure, his mouth falling open on a silent moan, and a shiver raced down your spine as you began riding his cock. 
You’d intended to torture him by slowly rising up and sinking back down on his hard length, but your boyfriend looked too delicious just sitting there with that smirk on his face. You ducked forward, flicking your tongue against the corner of his mouth, biting back a moan as you tasted him. His beard rasped against your tongue and a burning need flared to life in your chest. You trailed your mouth along his jaw, biting into his beard like you wanted to devour him whole. 
All the while, you rocked your hips as fast as you dared, which wan’t nearly fast enough. Bucky felt good inside you, but your every movement, your every breath was restrained. It made everything hotter, but it also meant you couldn’t truly let yourself give in to the pleasure of him. 
You needed more, you needed Bucky to fuck you. 
Whimpering into Bucky’s beard to muffle the sound, you whined his name in the quietest voice you could manage, “Jamie.” 
Bucky’s hand slipped around the front of your throat, his fingers digging into the sides in a way that made you clench around his cock, your lips parting in a silent moan. Pressing his mouth to your ear, he growled, “Hush, darling, or do you want me to make you be quiet?”
It took you the briefest of seconds to answer his question, your hips bouncing on his lap as you chanted, “Make me, sir, make me.”
“Perfect, filthy girl,” Bucky rumbled in your ear moments before he was standing up and laying you down on his desk as soundlessly as possible. 
All the men on the conference call heard were the rustling of papers, which you knew wouldn’t be out of place, and you had to bite your lip to stop from giggling. Your head was close to the speaker phone and you glanced at it before looking back at Bucky, a challenge in the way you narrowed your eyes and smirked at him. 
Your boyfriend grinned and mouthed the words, “Be quiet, darling,” before pressing a finger to his lips. Then he pulled his hips back and slammed forward, burying his cock in your slick cunt so forcefully, you had to slap both your hands over your mouth to stop from moaning. 
Between one breath and the next, Bucky’s hand was around your throat, pinning you to the hard wooden desk beneath you, his fingers squeezing into the sides of your neck and cutting off all any sound that could even think to dare escaping your lips. Your eyes popped open and you stared up at your boyfriend, spreading your legs wide so he could push deeper into your cunt, the tip of his cock grinding against a spot inside you that made you gush with arousal.
Your face was slack with pleasure, your mouth hanging open as you sucked in tiny, silent breaths, your eyes heavy-lidded as you kept your gaze fixed on Bucky above you. He felt so good inside you, so perfect, his hand around your throat choking you and heightening every sensation in your body.
When you heard Bucky’s name come through the phone, you nearly wailed in protest that someone would try to steal your boyfriend’s attention from you. But Bucky never relented, never stopped fucking you or choking you, slowly pushing you toward your release while he responded to the men on the phone with an even voice. You were too far gone to pay attention to what was being said, but Bucky seemed to know what he was saying, so you left him to it and instead focused on the unrelenting pleasure of his cock.
Eventually, you registered that Bucky was offering his farewells to the CEOs on the other end of the line, and you realized the conference call was coming to an end. If you’d been able to make any sound, you would’ve squeaked happily. Bucky reached across your body and hung up the phone. 
Then your boyfriend was curling over you, his face close to yours, his expression twisting into one of depraved delight as he started pounding into you harder, faster, fucking you ruthlessly on his desk. 
“Did you enjoy that, darling?” he growled, the arousal in his voice making him sound even more gravelly than normal. “Did you enjoy getting fucked on my desk while every CEO in New York City—including your father, who hates me—was on the phone?”
Bucky’s hand around your throat relented enough for you to speak, but you didn’t have any words left in your brain. Not when you could hear the wet sounds of your cunt while he fucked you. All you could do was moan, long and loud, the sound swirling around the two of you and filling the massive space of the luxurious office.
“You’re a temptress, the filthiest fucking girl I’ve ever met,” Bucky rasped, dragging his mouth along your jaw and nipping at your skin as he fucked you harder, grinding against your clit with every thrust. “You’re fucking perfect—you were so good for me, darling, taking my cock so well and staying so quiet for me.”
“Jamie,” you whined, carding your fingers through his soft brown hair and tugging his mouth to yours for a messy kiss. “Jamie, Jamie, Jamie,” you babbled into his mouth, sucking on his tongue and driving him to pound into you relentlessly while you whimpered at how good it felt to finally make some noise. 
“I know, I know,” Bucky rumbled in a warm, pleased tone, and you felt him smirk against your cheek. “My cock feels so good in your tight cunt, doesn’t it, darling?” He rocked into you, hitting that spot inside you and grinding against your clit at the same time, making you cry out sharply. “Yeah, I thought so,” he said, chuckling huskily in your ear. 
If it didn’t feel so good, you might’ve hit him, but the pleasure coiling tight in your body had you too wound up to care. Thankfully, your boyfriend had no interest in making you wait to come. In fact, he was eager for it as well.
“Mm, you’ve been so good for me,” Bucky rumbled, keeping up that impossibly perfect pace of his thrusts. “Come on my cock, darling, want to feel you milking me with your perfect pussy.”
His words washed over you at the same moment that he thrust deep inside and you were helpless to resist the pleasure. Your release crashed over you, Bucky’s hand squeezing your throat in time to choke off the scream that wanted to be let loose. Instead, your mouth opened wide on the silent sound and your body clenched tight, your back arching up off the desk as wave after wave of pleasure consumed you. 
“That’s it, darling, fuck,” Bucky growled, fucking you through your release, his voice going tight as your cunt clenched down hard on his cock. “Gonna come deep in this perfect pussy, and send you home with my come dripping into your new panties,” he rumbled, his thrusts turning wild as he rutted into your still fluttering core. “You’re gonna wait for me in my penthouse, and when I get home, I’m fucking you again in your pretty new lingerie. Gonna show you how much I love seeing you covered in lace and dripping my come.”
Impossibly, your deeply satisifed body tightened in excitement at your boyfriend’s words, and you suddenly couldn’t wait for what he promised. The fact that you’d never been to his penthouse without him was the furthest thing from your mind in that moment. 
“Jamie,” you cried softly before you pulled him down for another kiss. Your legs wrapped around the backs of his thighs and you held him inside you so he could only grind into your cunt. The sounds your bodies made were lewd and obscene, but they were drowned out by the pleasured moans coming from your mouths as you devoured each other.
A moment later, Bucky wrenched free from your mouth as he came with a loud groan. His cock twitched inside you while he filled you up with his warm, sticky come, and all you could do was smile dazedly. Your bodies writhed together as you eked out as much pleasure from your releases as possible, your mouths finding each other again and kissing to muffle your whimpers and groans. 
Together, you caught your breath, and finally settled. Bucky pulled back to stare down at you, a pleased smirk curling one side of his mouth. Then he leaned down, capturing your lips in a slow, lazy kiss. You grabbed his face and held him close, kissing the hell out of him while his cock softened inside you.
As you continued making out on your CEO boyfriend’s desk, you heard Bucky open and close a drawer. But it wasn’t until he pulled away and held up a key that you saw what he’d procured from the drawer. You stared at the little scrap of metal, the magnitude of what it meant making you suddenly uncertain. 
You gave Bucky a questioning look. He smiled affectionately down at you, brushing a kiss to your cheek before explaining. 
“It’s a key to my penthouse,” he said, his voice soft and gentle. “I want you to have it.”
Your eyes widened when he confirmed your suspicions, and though you wanted to reach for the key, you held back. “Are you sure, Jamie?” you asked, trying and failing to hide the waver in your voice. You tried to cover it up by barreling on, “We haven’t even told anyone we’re together.” When Bucky just watched you patiently, you tried for a joke. “What about all your bimbos?”
As soon as the words were past your lips, you wanted to take them back, and you slapped a hand over you mouth as if you could actually stuff the question back into your mouth. It shamed you that you’d repeated your father’s dig at Bucky, but before you could apologize, your boyfriend was carefully prying your hand away from your mouth so he could press a sweet kiss to your lips.
“You and I both know there never have, and never will be any bimbos in my life,” Bucky murmured, pressing his forehead to yours. He was so close, you had to close your eyes, which was a relief because there were suddenly tears swimming in them. “You also know that we decide how we want our relationship to move forward and when we want to tell our families.” He let out a soft exhale. “If you want to tell them before we take this step, just say the word, darling.”
With your eyes closed and Bucky’s warm skin pressing against yours, his familiar and comforting scent filling your nose, you let yourself think about it. You knew you’d have to tell your father about your relationship with Bucky eventually. After all, every time you pictured your future, he was a part of it. But you weren’t quite ready yet. You were still having too much fun with just you and Bucky knowing about your relationship.
“Not yet,” you said, your voice barely a whisper. 
“OK,” he said before giving you a reassuring kiss. “Will you take the key?”
You gave Bucky’s question the thought it deserved and realized you liked the idea of having a key to his place. There were nights when you couldn’t see him because you’d already gone home to your brownstone in Brooklyn before he’d gotten out of a late meeting. If you had a key to his place—and carte blanche from his secretary to go into his office—then you could see him whenever you wanted.
You liked that idea. You liked that idea a lot. 
But, because you were you, you couldn’t give Bucky a simple answer. So instead, you said, “I don’t really have a lot of pockets in this outfit.” 
Bucky pulled back and you opened your eyes to find your boyfriend grinning down at you, happiness sparkling in his blue eyes. You watched as those eyes darkened while he tucked the key into your bra. When the cool metal brushed against your nipple, you gasped quietly, your body clenching lightly around his half-hard cock. 
“Your new lingerie is pretty and comes in handy, darling,” Bucky commented lightly, bending down to kiss you as he eased himself from your body. He swallowed your groan, then stood up and smoothed your panties back over your pussy. He stared hungrily at the juncture of your thighs and you wondered if your combined releases were already leaving a wet spot. 
Before you could ask, Bucky shook himself and he turned his focus to helping you up from his desk. He made sure the key stayed securely in your bra, tweaking your nipple in the process, then stooped to grab your jacket. He held it open for you to step into, then tied the belt tightly around your waist. Last, he pulled you in for a kiss.
“I’ll be back this evening,” he murmured against your lips. “Make yourself at home, darling.” His words were nearly a purr and you shivered in delight at just how much you enjoyed hearing them. 
You were excited to spent the rest of the afternoon luxuriating in everything Bucky’s penthouse had to offer—maybe you’d even ask the concierge for some ice cream and cones—but when you pulled away from your boyfriend, you suddenly felt bereft. Your heart panged in your chest and you gave Bucky a bittersweet smile.
“It won’t feel like home until you get there,” you said softly, pushing up onto your tiptoes to kiss him. “So hurry home, Jamie.” 
Bucky’s hands flexed on your hips, like he was struggling to let you go, but finally you eased away from him and his hands dropped to his sides. Reluctantly, you turned and began walking across Bucky’s office. At the door, you paused and looked back. 
Bucky was still staring at you like he didn’t want to let you leave, but you’d both had enough of tempting fate in the CEO’s office for one afternoon. You gave him one last smile and waved, the key to his penthouse warming against your skin as you slipped out. You comforted yourself with the knowledge that you’d get to see Bucky later. 
As you walked past Bucky’s secretary’s empty desk to the elevator, all you could think was that you had a key to your boyfriend’s apartment. You had a key to your boyfriend’s penthouse apartment—and you couldn’t wait for him to come home to you that night.
Maybe, eventually, he’d come home to you every night.
tempting fate in the park (part 1)
tempting fate on the terrace (part 2)
tempting fate in the CEO's office (part 3)
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superprofesh · 2 days
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The Five Times Colt Seavers Almost Kisses You (and the One Time He Does) — Part 4
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Pairing: Colt Seavers x reader
Description: The fourth time Colt Seavers almost kisses you — on the brink of a promise he knows he can't afford to make.
Rating: T
Word Count: 3.2k
Tag List: @strangedeerconnoisseur, @icantwaittoliveandlearn, @moonlightandstarshimmer, @chemococktailonthehouse, @1word, @itzjustj-1000, @k-l-a-w-s, @hotdogbread23
Author’s Note: I've been blown away by how kind you all have been about this fic, and I'm so glad you're enjoying reading it as much as I am writing it! We've got two parts to go, and they only get better from here :) Thank you for all the support, and let me know what you think of this chapter!!
Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 
It’s five o’clock in the morning, and Colt Seavers has already been standing in the misty parking lot for two hours when he finally sees your car pulling in the entrance.
The last twelve hours have been absolute torture for him. One minute, he was walking into the crowded club to drop off some equipment with the stunt coordinator; the next, he was sharing space at the bar with you, trapped under your spell despite all his vows that he wouldn’t keep pushing this flirty thing you’ve been sharing.
He’s been conflicted for months now, knowing that his feelings for you are only getting deeper but also knowing that a relationship with him is the last thing you need. No matter how hard he tries to be noble for you, he just can’t get free from the way you enrapture him so completely — the way he thinks of you every moment of the day, dreams of a future where you could feel about him the way he feels about you.
And he honestly thought you didn’t — that you couldn’t — until last night. When he completely wrecked everything, including your heart.
Colt squeezes his eyes shut again, remembering the way he pulled back from you just a few seconds before your lips would have met. In the moment, it seemed like the right thing to do: cut it off, laugh it off, let it go before he betrayed how absolutely captivated he is by everything you do.
He keeps telling himself that he did the right thing. That he’s no good for you, and you’re better off not getting confused by his overwhelming feelings for you. But he keeps seeing your face — the way all the light in your eyes vanished, the way your shoulders slumped and your expression wilted. He had no idea there were actual, genuine feelings on your part. And for him?
Colt has spent the last twelve hours deliberating how to handle this situation. He knows he has to make it right with you, but the question is how. His inner monologue has quite the speech ready for him. You can’t even THINK about confessing your feelings. You’re the one who has no future, no big dreams, maybe not even much longer to live! You have no right to force that kind of life on anyone. Especially if you really care.
After hours of tormented decision-making, Colt has come to the same conclusion he always does: he can’t let you know how he feels about you. He’s got to apologize, make sure you know he didn’t mean to hurt you, let you think he’s just been flirting for fun, maybe even rekindle your injured friendship. But he absolutely cannot let you know he’s in love with you.
And he is, isn’t he? He wouldn’t have waited with bated breath in the parking lot for two hours if he wasn’t madly, hopelessly, irremediably in love with you.
Colt has planned this conversation thousands of times since last night, but the only thing he can choke out when you climb out of your car and start toward the studio is, “Hey.”
You glance up at him in surprise, clearly less than pleased to find him hanging around the parking lot so early. His heart tightens at the sight of your pale face, the dark circles under your eyes betraying what was probably a sleepless night. “Hey,” you respond emotionlessly.
“Do you have a second?” Colt asks. His voice isn’t quite as strong as he hoped, but the sight of you is sending jolts of electricity through his veins.
You look to the side, pursing your lips and injecting a hint of coldness into your voice that he has never heard before. “Honestly, Colt, no offense,” you say plainly, “but I don’t really want to talk right now.”
Colt presses his lips together, knowing he’s the reason for this uncharacteristic coldness. “Believe me, I understand,” he blurts out, “but I’ve got to talk to you about last night.”
“There’s nothing to talk about,” you shoot back, fixing your stare on him again. Behind the coldness in your eyes is a deep sorrow that twists his heart. “I misread the signals, I overthought it, it’s not a big deal. You don’t need to explain anything.”
“Yes, I do,” he insists. “I messed up big time. I haven’t had a moment’s peace since last night, and I have to get this off my chest, okay? You don’t have to say anything.” He knows he sounds desperate, but he’s past caring. “Please, just hear me out and let me explain.”
You hold his stare, unrelenting, unforgiving. He loves you for it. “Fine.”
Colt releases a breath he didn’t know he was holding, overwhelmed with relief that you’re even willing to listen to him. His biggest worry all night was that you wouldn’t speak to him, wouldn’t let him make things right.
He plunges right in, knowing it will be messy but not caring. “Listen, I’m really bad at this, but I’m going to give it my best go. These past few months that I’ve known you… it’s been really nice. You’re amazing to be around, and I always feel better after I’ve hung out with you. You’ve honestly been the best thing about this shoot.”
Your expression doesn’t change, but Colt can feel the iciness in your gaze softening ever so slightly. It gives him the courage to press on, even though he knows what he’s about to say is going to devastate himself.
“The thing is,” he continues, heart in his throat, “I’ve been so caught up in just… flirting and messing around, that I haven’t paid attention to how it might affect you. I haven’t been paying attention to the signals either.”
You furrow your brow at him. “What are you saying?”
Colt, you are the worst at this, man.
“I’m saying… I’m really sorry that I hurt your feelings last night. I’ve been replaying it over and over in my mind, and I can’t get past the way you looked at me when I pulled away and laughed everything off. Just, the look in your eyes and the way you looked like I had let you down — it’s been killing me.”
Your expression finally softens, and Colt hates himself for the words that are coming out of his mouth. “I thought this was just a fun flirtation between friends and that it would be better to keep any physical stuff out of it. I didn’t know there was anything on your side. Honestly. Not until I saw how much it hurt you for me to just… act like it meant nothing.”
There it is again — that hint of betrayal in your eyes. Now that Colt knows you care for him, his decision to “do the right thing” suddenly seems like the most gut-wrenching, agonizing thing he’s ever done.
It’s all I can do. I have nothing to offer, nothing to make a relationship worth the pain it would cause. I love you, and that’s why I won’t tell you.
Your brow is still lined with confusion, trying to parse out his real meaning among the confusion of words. “But you’re still saying… it didn’t mean anything to you.”
This is killing him. “Of course it meant something to me,” Colt blurts out before he can stop himself completely. He tries to amend it. “Man, I am so bad at this. What I’m trying to say is… I would never have even started a flirtation with you if I knew it would hurt you. Please believe me when I say I would never, ever, in a gazillion years want to do anything to hurt you or make you feel like I don’t care about your feelings. I should have been more sensitive and realized that I can’t just… lead you on without it mattering.”
Lead you on. As if I didn’t mean every word I’ve ever said to you. As if I wouldn’t die for you right now.
You nod, pursing your lips again with a clearer, more determined look in your eyes. “So, just so we’re clear,” you say slowly, “there’s nothing going on? All this flirting and hanging out and almost-kissing — it’s just been for kicks?”
“No, no, not just for kicks,” he backtracks immediately. Even when he’s trying to be noble, he can’t betray your trust that far. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
“What did you mean, Colt?” He can hear the genuine confusion in your voice. “I don’t understand what you’re trying to tell me.”
Colt takes a deep breath, closing his eyes as he tries to focus on the right thing to say. “I’m just trying to tell you that I am so, so sorry for anything I’ve done to hurt you. I’ve been stupid and insensitive and awful, and I wish there was a way I could make it up to you. I just…” He opens his eyes, fixes them on yours so you know he’s telling the truth. “I couldn’t let this go without making it right with you. No matter what, you mean a lot to me, and the thought of losing your friendship honestly makes me miserable. Please just tell me I haven’t messed this up beyond repair.”
Please tell me I haven’t lost your trust completely. Please tell me I haven’t damaged the person I love most beyond repair.
You stare him down for what feels like an eternity, your discerning gaze burning holes into him. Finally, you sigh, seeming to come to a decision. “No, you haven’t,” you tell him at last. “I mean, I’m still trying to process everything and sort it all out, but… it means a lot that you wanted to have this conversation.” A note of humor slips into your voice, and the twinkle in your eyes makes a very welcome reappearance. “I mean, you waited for me in the parking lot like a stalker, so that says something. Not sure what.”
Colt laughs out loud at that, all the intense pressure of the night lessening with your words. “I thought about camping outside your hotel, but I thought it might be a little much.”
“Yeah, it would have been,” you agree, scuffing your shoes on the pavement.
Colt feels like the weight of the entire world has been lifted off his shoulders, but he knows he has to keep handling this the right way if he doesn’t want to risk hurting you again.
“So, are we okay?” he asks sincerely.
You nod, smoothing your hair back and closing your eyes while you think about your response. “Yeah. Yeah, we are. Just… getting some closure and some straight-shooting takes a lot of stress out of this.”
“Yeah, me, too,” Colt agrees. “I’m just sorry it took me so long to shoot it straight with you.”
If you can really call this shooting straight.
You shake your head, raising your eyes to meet his again. “No, I should have been more upfront, too,” you admit. “It would have saved me a lot of trouble.”
Colt’s first reaction is to argue, to insist that you haven’t done a single thing wrong, that this whole tangle has been caused by his inability to let go of the feelings he has for you, but he knows it’s best to let that go. Better to end on a positive note.
“Friends?” he asks tentatively.
“Friends.” You grin at him, obviously as relieved as he is to have mended your relationship.
Great, just friends again. Exactly what we wanted. Colt elects to ignore his inner monologue this time.
With the tension lifted at last, you heave a grand sigh and nudge his shoulder in the old familiar way, heading in the direction of the studio.
“So, where are you off to?” Colt asks you, falling in step beside you.
“Train station set,” you reply lightly. “Filming for that scene is supposed to start next week, so I’m scrambling trying to get everything finished. It’s the biggest set I’ve ever created from scratch, so it’s been a serious challenge.”
Colt grins down at you, nudging your shoulder with his the same way you just did. “I’m sure it’ll be amazing,” he assures you, meaning every word of it. “Your sets always are.”
You grin back up at him, your cheerfulness infectious. “What about you? Any big stunts today?”
“Nah, just rehearsing some choreography for a fight scene. Easier schedule for the rest of this week.”
“That’s good,” you respond. The art trailer, empty in these early morning hours, is coming into sight now. “Maybe you can stop throwing yourself off moving vehicles for awhile.”
Colt smirks. “Yeah, that’s the plan. Unless something crazy happens on my way to the gas station or something.”
“Oh, sure. You never know with a Citgo.”
The two of you share a laugh, and suddenly everything feels back to normal. Maybe it can never be completely normal again, but after the fears that kept Colt awake all night, this feels like he’s just stepped into paradise after being cast out.
“Hey, bad guys come in all shapes and sizes,” Colt informs you, feeling his sense of humor coming back full force. “Sometimes it’s a hard-boiled gangster chasing you on top of a transfer truck; sometimes it’s a plastic bag flying off the pavement and around your head.”
“Maybe that’s the real reason why recycling is so important,” you quip. A few more steps, and the two of you are standing at the door to the art trailer, the pink rays of sunrise beginning to touch the tops of your heads. “Well, here’s my stop. Thanks again for talking with me. It really means a lot.”
Colt nods, a genuine smile crossing his face. “I couldn’t let things be strained between us. Who would patch together the props I destroy in every take?” he teases you.
“Who would destroy the handmade props I painstakingly create every day?”
“Publicity stunts wouldn’t have been the same without you to critique my color coordinating choices.”
“I was really going to miss you sneaking me a packet of Mini Muffins every morning.”
“Consider the Mini Muffins sneaked.”
You grin at that, and Colt’s heart speeds up a few beats just at the sight. He’s glad to have this image — your captivating smile, framed by the pastel light of the sunrise, happiness sparkling in your eyes — to replace the one from last night.
You don’t say a word before turning to open the door to the art trailer, clearly needing some space, so Colt turns to walk away, but the door doesn’t close behind you. When he turns back to face you, you’re lingering in the doorway, an unreadable expression on your face. Colt hesitates, not sure what you expect from him, but he’s cut off by you closing the distance between the two of you and wrapping your arms around his neck.
What what what what what what WHAT WHAT WHAT—
Colt isn’t sure this is the best idea, but he certainly isn’t going to make the mistake of pushing you away again. Instead, he lets his arms fold around your waist, pulling you close against him. Every muscle in his body aches to hold you as tight as he can, and it takes all his self-control not to lift his head up a few inches, to whisper in your ear, You’re every sweet dream I’ve ever had. You’re everything I hoped love would turn out to be.
You don’t make a move to release him, and suddenly Colt realizes: this is your way of letting go of him. You’re taking one last moment to savor this closeness before you resign yourself to a simple friendship and an inevitable goodbye. With that realization, Colt grips you tighter, lets his face rest in the crook of your neck while he breathes you in.
The sun keeps rising, and still you hold onto each other as if this is the last time you’ll ever see each other.
Colt feels your arms loosen their hold around his neck slightly, and he takes that as a cue to release the death-grip he has around your waist. He didn’t realize he could feel your pounding heart against his chest until you’ve pulled back a few inches.
He’s surprised, though, when you don’t get go of him completely. You let your hands rest on his broad shoulders, your eyes searching his own for some answer that you can’t quite grasp. It’s as if you know he’s holding something back — as if you can tell how deeply he feels for you just by the way he stays absorbed in the warmth of your gaze.
A sad smile tugs at the corners of your lips, and you lift one hand to rest on the side of Colt’s face. His heart instantly starts rocketing again, and all he can imagine is that you’re finally going to go for the kiss that has almost happened three times now. He holds his breath, knowing that he can’t trust himself not to seize you and kiss you with all the passion he’s holding inside.
Your fingertips trace the side of his face slowly, intimately, traveling over his cheekbone, down his jaw, right under his lips. His skin feels like it’s burning from the inside, incinerating him with heat. He knows he’s still holding your waist too tight for someone who is “just a friend,” but holding you is the only thing keeping him sane right now.
Your gaze slips down for a fraction of a second, landing on the spot where your fingers are resting tenderly. Colt’s hands are shaking from the tension. All he can think of is how close your lips are to his, how effortless it would be to lean forward a few inches and live out the daydream he’s had a thousand times before. He doesn’t even blink, unwilling to miss a second of being this close to you again.
Finally, finally, you take mercy on him and lift your fingers from his face, your own expression betraying the level of affection you feel. Right now, all Colt wants to do is close his eyes and let you trail your fingers over his face for the rest of his life, but your touch is already gone, and he finally feels like he can breathe again.
You take an unhurried step back, your eyes never leaving his. Your hands slowly slide down from his shoulders, his letting go of your waist at the same time. The distance between you suddenly feels miles wide, and it’s quite obvious that both of you want to close it again.
But neither of you does.
“Okay,” you murmur, eyes drifting across his face. The early morning sunlight is dancing through the strands of your hair, alighting on the dust particles in the air to create a mystical glow around your face. “I should go.”
Colt barely even registers his own response, still so dazed from the past few moments. “Me, too.”
You take a step inside the art trailer door, eyes hazy. “See you later?”
“Of course.”
You give him one last soft smile and walk into the art trailer. But Colt stands in the light of the rising sun for a long time after you’ve gone.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 
Part 5
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catmiemy · 2 days
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Another Chance to Live Final Part (Ana Maria Crnogorčević x Reader)
Summary: Ana and you are facing some big changes.
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5
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A/N: I'm actually very proud of myself for finishing this story relatively fast. And it was a lot of fun to write :)
Thank you to everyone that stuck around till the end. I hope you enjoy this last part!
Of course you didn’t just trust your parents to respect the boundaries you had set in place; that had never been their strong suit after all. Once you had successfully weathered the first onslaught of emotions, you thought about it more carefully and together with Ana put a few precautions in place.
For one you informed the staff at Real that none of your family members should be granted access if they came by to see you. A wise decision, as it turned out. Only a few days later your mother showed up, arguing for so long that she had to be escorted off the premises by security personnel.
You also basically moved in with Ana. No one from your family knew where she lived, so they couldn’t just drop by like they could at your apartment. Another good call as you learnt when your neighbors told you that they had almost called the police because a man fitting your father’s description had been standing in front of the house for so long.
All of this made your guilt kick into overdrive and you were grateful for your girlfriend’s support. She never told you what to do, she was even hesitant to tell you what she would do in your place, but Ana was always there to listen and help you keep apart what you truly wanted from what you felt you should do.
While things with your family were at an all time low, you were incredibly happy with Ana, and practically living together was a welcome change in pace. Both of you were committed to making each other smile with small gestures, so your everyday life was filled with much more happiness than ever before. 
Ana loved to start your day off with a big smile by turning your coffee into a small piece of art, constantly trying out new foam designs. And it didn’t matter if they turned out right or not, you appreciated the effort, and attempting to guess what your girlfriend had been going for was half the fun.
You knew Ana felt the same about something you were doing to brighten her day: learning some Swiss German words. Which wasn’t easy because you couldn’t just use any old translator, you had to invest some time to find the correct words. And often times you failed horribly at pronouncing them, making your girlfriend giggle while she was trying to decipher what you were saying. That in turn always got you laughing as well, which made it even harder to pronounce anything properly.  
The biggest laughing fit set off by your Swiss German attempts occurred when you very proudly asked Ana if she could give you a Schmützeli. You didn’t get quite the reaction you hoped for, a kiss; instead your girlfriend was staring at you, and you couldn’t tell if she was amused or annoyed.
“Wait, does it not mean kiss? Did I mess this up? I’m so sorry if I said something offensive,” you apologized frantically, already pulling out your phone to look at your sources again. You had been so sure, you had even double-checked this.
At that point Ana began laughing, so hard that she couldn’t even say anything. Now it was your turn to stare at her, wondering what was so funny. It was a huge relief though; it couldn’t have been anything too bad if your girlfriend found it so amusing.
After a moment you couldn’t help but join the laughter. You didn’t know what you were laughing about, but Ana’s laughter was simply infectious.
Once your girlfriend had calmed down, she explained it to you still a little out of breath, “Okay, so it’s not even really that funny, but Schmützeli isn’t a word you would use with a partner. At least not where I’m from. It’s more for like small kisses between family members or friends. And it just really caught me off guard.”
You silently agreed, this wasn’t really that funny, and you were still a bit confused why it had made your girlfriend laugh so hard. Then again you were always happy to make Ana laugh, so you weren’t going to complain. And you definitely kept using the word again every once in a while because it amused her every time.  
There were other things you did for each other, like Ana playing the guitar for you, sometimes even singing a song you requested, which made you all chocked up whenever she did. Or you taking pictures of small beautiful things you saw in your day to day life to show to your girlfriend in the evening, eager to share the beauty you had encountered with her.
You also did your best to make your everyday life as special as possible, savoring the time you got together. A part of this was ensuring that you weren’t just spending time together by being around each other, but also by doing things and actively spending time together whenever your crazy schedules allowed it. And sometimes even if they didn’t, carving out time when you didn’t necessarily have it.
It was a good thing your personal life brought you so much happiness because the same thing couldn’t be said about your work. To be honest thinking of football as merely that, work, was painful enough by itself. Sure, it was, but it also always had been so much more than just a job.
Sometimes you still debated if you should just retire and try to find something else that would spark some sort of passion again. However, at the end of the day you weren’t ready to give up on what had been your life’s biggest passion so far.
So you resigned yourself to this reality, where the joy you once found in football only showed itself on very rare occasions. And whenever it did, you clung to it with ferocity to tie you over until the next minuscule moment.
Then, completely out of the blue, you got an offer from another team. It hadn’t even crossed your mind to look around for another club; leaving Madrid had never been something you considered. It hadn’t been something you thought you would ever want to do.
But when you were approached by the managers of Tigres Femenil, you realized all of the sudden that it might be exactly what you wanted. It helped that it was the team Jenni was playing for, so you knew if you actually decided to go through with this, you wouldn’t be totally alone on another continent.
That wasn’t the appeal though, that was merely a helpful factor. What really made you want to do it was the fact that it would be your choice, only yours and no one else’s, not your family’s and not your club’s. It would be you deciding what to do with your life, instead of rolling with the punches others kept throwing at you.
Was that a good enough reason to move halfway across the world, though? Especially since there was one obvious reason keeping you in Madrid, Ana. The thought of not seeing her daily was hard to bare. Then again it probably wasn’t healthy that she was the only good thing in your life at the moment, that was too much pressure to place on one person. So perhaps it would be better for your relationship in the long run if you decided to do this?
On the other hand, Mexico was a long way from Madrid. Would Ana be okay with doing long distance or would this be the end of your relationship? Because in that case you wouldn’t do it.
As was in your nature you drove yourself crazy thinking about every possible outcome either of your choices could have. You did your best to not let on that something was bothering you, but Ana must have noticed anyway because she began acting a bit odd herself, switching between being weirdly distant and overly clingy.
You had almost reached the point of finally broaching the subject, when your girlfriend took the first step. In the morning before leaving for your respective training sessions, Ana nervously asked if you could talk later that night. Of course you agreed, thinking that she wanted to ask you what had been on your mind lately.
Consequently you spent the entire day agonizing about how you could put your thoughts and feelings into words. You made countless drafts in your mind, even though you knew that you wouldn’t be able to remember them in the moment. At least they made you feel a bit better prepared.
Ana was back at your apartment before you and she set everything up nicely with candles and flowers she had gotten for you. You appreciated how she went out of her way to make sure you knew everything was okay. Every once in a while you still got in your head, worried that your girlfriend would leave you if you made on small mistake.
Once you had both settled down, Ana took a deep breath, blurting out, “There is something I have to tell you.”
This took you by surprise. You had been under the assumption she had set this all up to get you to talk. And you instantly began wondering what your girlfriend had to tell you. Naturally your first thought was that she might break up with. However, even you had to admit that preparing a romantic candle light dinner would be a very strange move if you wanted to break up with someone.
“Oh, what is it? I actually have something I need to tell you as well,” you replied, trying to keep your worries out of your voice.
“Really?” Ana exclaimed in surprise. This in turn surprised you, you didn’t think you had been doing a good job at keeping your over thinking a secret.
“You can go first,” your girlfriend quickly offered.
Normally you wouldn’t have accepted such an offer, especially not when Ana had been the one to set all this up to talk to you about something. However, something in her tone sounded almost pleading, as if she desperately wanted you to go first. And begging from your girlfriend was something you could never resist.
“Well, I’m guess I’m just going to come out and say it,” you started, taking a deep breath, steeling yourself for whatever might be Ana’s reaction, “I’ve gotten an offer from another club. And I didn’t think it was something I would be interested in, but now that I have it, I realize that I really am. You know how I feel at Real, so this might be my chance to enjoy football again. But then I also don’t want to leave you alone here because I love you and…”
Ana had been listening to you rattling on for a moment, her face unreadable, until she interrupted you sounding oddly excited, “Wait, you’re thinking about leaving Madrid?”
You frowned at her happiness. It was one thing to be excited about something good happening to your partner, but being so happy about them moving away seemed weird to you, and a little painful.
“Wow, no reason to be so happy about getting rid of me,” you mumbled, avoiding your girlfriend’s eyes.
“What? No!” Ana cried out, reaching over to grab your hand. “That’s not what this is about at all. The thing is that I too have gotten offers from other clubs and I didn’t really consider them, but then a few days ago Atleti told me that they wouldn’t renew my contract, so I have no choice but to leave.”
“And I have been feeling so bad about it because just like you said, I didn’t want to leave you behind here either. But if we’re both leaving, it’s a totally different scenario. Sure, long distance is going to suck, but it won’t be forever and at least this way we hopefully both end up in places where we feel happier than at our current clubs.”
Suddenly Ana’s behavior over the last few days made a lot more sense. You had thought she was acting weird because she had picked up on your distress, but really she had been dealing with something herself. Being dropped by yet another team and faced with having to upend her entire life again.
“Ugh, I didn’t think I could hate Atleti more than I already do! How stupid of them to let you go,” you grumbled.
Your girlfriend blinked a couple of times, a smile appearing on her face, “That’s what you’re focusing on right now?”
“Yeah! I’m really annoyed with them! But also…Why didn’t you tell me?”
It wasn’t something you could really complain about since it was very much exactly what you would have done in Ana’s position. Your girlfriend was much better though, when it came to opening up and discussing her struggles. So the fact that she hadn’t told you before didn’t sit right with you.
Ana sighed, rubbing her forehead. “I made up my mind so many times to just come right out and say it, but every time I lost my courage in the last second. Because at it turns out it’s not so easy to tell your girlfriend who you love very much and who has a hard time at work and with her family that you’re moving to another country.”
“Oh.”
You understood that, it was the thing you had been worried about, that Ana felt too much pressure to bring joy to your life because so little else did. Under different circumstances this might have been harder to swallow, but in the current situation it actually helped. It left not a single doubt in your mind, that leaving Madrid was the right choice.
“So, what are your options?” You asked to move on the conversation.
“There are different clubs in Switzerland I could go to, but I don’t really see myself doing that. It would be nice to be close to my family and maybe I should do it to help further women’s football in Switzerland, but it feels more like something I should do, not something I want, you know?”
You knew precisely what she meant. In fact for so long you had made all decisions based on exactly that feeling of ‘I should’, so you were happy Ana didn’t plan on making the same mistake. And you tried to show her that by nodding encouragingly.
“However, the other option is pretty far away, so I just want you to know that no decision has been made yet, and I really want to know what you think. Because if long distance on that scale is a deal breaker for you, I won’t do it,” your girlfriend continued.
Again you nodded, hung up on the fact that you had been having exactly the same thoughts. So as far as distance went this would either work out well for the two of you or Ana would really end up on the other side of the world. What even was on the other side of Mexico? You cursed yourself for your geography knowledge that was clearly lacking.
“Okay, so, the other option is Tigres Femenil. Jenni’s team in Mexico,” your girlfriend rushed out, her eyes flicking between you and the table, as if Ana was torn between wanting to study every miniscule reaction you might show, while also trying to avoid jus tthat.
“What?”
This had to be a joke! Ana probably learnt about your offer from then and decided to play a prank on you. Maybe Jenni had heard about it and told your girlfriend to do this, that would be a Jenni thing to do.
Except not really, though. Your older friend was known for playing pranks and amusing herself at the expense of others, but there was a clear line that she never crossed. And playing with someone’s heart and feelings was on the “don’t”-side of that line.
“I’m sorry! Like I said I haven’t decided yet and if it’s too far then I’ll go to Switzerland. I’m sure that will be great,” Ana apologized frantically. 
“No, wait, that’s not why I reacted like this. The thing is my offer is also from Tigres Femenil, so it just seems a bit unbelievable? People don’t get this lucky in real life,” you explained, disbelief still coloring your tone and set firmly on your face.
“You’re joking right?” Your girlfriend inquired, apparently also having some issues fully accepting this miraculous coincidence as true.
“No, I’m not. They offered me a one year contract with the option for additional years if I like it there and fit well into the team.” Hopefully the added details would make it easier for Ana to believe this was actually happening.
After that the two of you stayed silent for a while, your hearts and minds needed some time to let themselves open up and accept that you were getting much more than you ever hoped for.
You reached that conclusion almost at the same time, huge grins spreading across both of your faces and then there was nothing holding you back anymore. Ana jumped up from her chair first and you swiftly followed suit.
Mere seconds later you basically jumped into your girlfriend’s arms, thinking in the back of your mind that this was exactly how you would celebrate a goal if you would play for the same time. Your heart jumped happily when you realized that you might get a chance to do precisely that next season.
“I’m so happy!” Ana squealed into your ear and you echoed that sentiment.
Moving abroad and playing for another team had sounded excited, but doing so with your girlfriend? That seemed more like a dream than anything else.
Ana and you stayed wrapped up in each other’s arms for a good while, just basking in the happiness. It was a welcome change from the usual reasons you spent so long in each other’s embrace. Normally you did so because one of you, more often than not you, was sad and needed comfort. Now there was not an ounce of sadness present, the air was electrified by excitement and the possibility of everything that was to come.
---
Of course you didn’t decide that night to accept the transfer, not legally at least, but emotionally you definitely did. Still, like the reasonable adults you were, you thought it through, gathered some more information before officially making the choice you had already made the moment you learnt both of you could go to Mexico together.
You called Jenni together to tell her the good news and she was overjoyed. Although if the amount of teasing you had to endure during one measly phone call was anything to go by, you were going to have to put up with a lot next year. You didn’t mind, though. Also you were aware that Ana would put a stop to it if she thought it was getting out of hand. You could as well, Jenni would listen if you seriously told her to stop, but you knew yourself well enough to know that you wouldn’t.
After that Ana and you focused on wrapping up everything in Madrid, sorting out your apartments and such. There was one particular subject you avoided like the plague, your family. You couldn’t leave for Mexico without at least telling them and try one more time, but you also weren’t ready to face them again in the slightest.
Finally you reached a point in time where you could no longer postpone it. Your girlfriend offered multiple times to go with you, but you declined every time, much to Ana’s chagrin. In the end she decided that she would at least drive you and wait for you in a nearby parking lot. You gladly accepted that suggestion.
“And please leave if it gets too much, yeah? Or call me and I will come get you,” Ana reminded you resolutely, still reluctant to let go of your hand.
“Don’t worry, tesoro, I’ll be fine. I don’t think much will come off today, but I just have to try one more time before we leave,” you explained. And it was true; you didn’t have high hopes for your conversation with your family. But even so you ended up being disappointed.
It started with a very frosty greeting, your father leading you into the living room where the rest of your family was sitting. You had chosen that day specifically because you had thought no one else would be over, but apparently you were out of luck. All of your aunts and uncles were assembled, staring at you disapprovingly.
You swallowed roughly, wetting your lips nervously when it became apparent that you would have to lead this conversation. This had been expected, you had even practiced a bit at home with Ana, but now in the moment your mind felt terrifyingly blank. With everyone glaring at you the only thing you could think of was to apologize. And that was the one thing you remembered you didn’t want to do.
“Did you just come here to stare at us?” Your mother questioned unfriendly.  
“No, I…This isn’t so easy. You’re making this really hard for me,” you muttered
“We’re making it hard for you? Do you have any idea what you’ve done to us? Just completely cutting us out of your life because of some random girl you met a few months ago,” your mother accused you.
The guilt and self-doubt threatened to consume you, but you tried to focus on your anger instead. At least the anger would allow you to say what needed to be said, even if you couldn’t lay it out as calmly and clearly as you wanted.
“See, this is what I mean. Everything is always my fault and you never listen to what I have to say,” you defended yourself. “And Ana isn’t just some random girl. I can’t stand that you talk like this about someone I love, someone who I’m pretty sure is the love of my life.”
Your family exchanged meaningful glances, the sentiment on their faces clear as day; they thought you were being ridiculous or childish or dramatic. Three adjectives they loved using to describe you.
“You’re getting too emotional again, niña, that has always been your problem. How do you expect us to take you serious like this? And think about this, you say we’re always acting as if you’re the problem, but in reality it’s you doing that. You always blame everything on us, your horrible family. Poor you with parents, aunts and uncles that support you!”
Condescension was something you were used to, and it had always made you feel very tiny and incredibly mad at the same time. You were an adult for crying out loud, not a little kid. And still in that moment you felt exactly like that.
“Fine, you know what, I can see that this is totally pointless! I don’t even know why I thought I should try again. So I’m just going to tell you the one thing you need to know; once this season is over I’ll go to Mexico to play there. So I guess, see you never?” You yelled, turning around and stomping out of your childhood home, without giving your family any chance to reply. What was the point?
Tears were already streaming down your face as you ran down the street to where Ana was waiting. Your girlfriend saw you coming; she had been keeping an eye out for you practically from the moment you had kissed her goodbye.
When she saw you rushing towards her, Ana’s heart broke. She had hoped this would go better, but your demeanor and the fact that you were back so soon told her everything she needed to know.
Ana quickly clambered out of the car to meet you with open arms. You fell into them, allowing yourself a moment to completely lean into your girlfriend and absorb some strength from her. Not too long though, you didn’t want to risk anyone catching up with you.
“Come on, let’s go,” you requested, already moving to the passenger’s side.
The drive home was mostly silent, your girlfriend held your hand whenever she didn’t need both of them to drive, and only asked you in the very beginning if you were ready to talk. You just shook your head in response. First you would have some more crying to do, before you could even hope to use words.
And you did exactly that, once again safely tucked away in your girlfriend’s arms. You couldn’t wait to get to a point in your life where you didn’t need so much comfort anymore.
“How are you feeling?” Ana prompted once she noticed you were ready to talk. She had seen you biting your cheek, contemplating how to start the conversation and decided to help you out with questions.
“I didn’t have much hope to begin with, but apparently I still had some that could be crushed. And also…,” you stopped, uncertain if you should continue. It felt like you kept bringing up the same things; shouldn’t you get over them at some point?
“Also?”
There was nothing but love and concern on your girlfriend’s face. You didn’t have to worry about her judging you, this was a safe space.
“I’m so annoyed with myself. I couldn’t even say much before I ran away. I can just hear them calling me a dramatic little girl who runs away as soon as things get though”, you gritted out.
Ana tensed at your harsh words towards yourself and she forced herself to count to three before answering, not wanting to sound too intense. There was however nothing she could do about the emotions lingering in her voice.
“Please stop listening to their voices in your head. I don’t think removing yourself from a bad situation is running away, that’s a smart move really. You need to take care of yourself.”
You nodded thoughtfully, “You know I’ve been thinking about that and realized I often put their needs and wants over mine. But I guess putting others first only works if they do the same. Otherwise if I always put them first, but they never put me first, I’m just always going to end up last, right? I think that’s what’s been happening all my life and I’m done with it!”
“Absolutely! If anything your parents should be putting you, their child, first. That’s what my mom said when I talked about it with her. She also said some other things, but I’m not sure if you want to hear them or if it’ll just make you sad.”
Ana studied you carefully, every sign of pain embedded in your body hurting her as well. She hated how that you had to deal with this, so the last thing she wanted to do was to add any pain to it.
“No, please, tell me. I think it will be helpful, hearing what an actual good parent thinks about all of this,” you requested.
You had only met Ana’s parents twice before, but they had been everything you wanted your own family to be. They were excited to see their daughter, but expressed that without making her feel guilty for not being around more. And they had welcomed you with open arms, clearly very pleased that Ana had found a special someone to share her life with.
“She also said that nothing makes her happier than seeing us, her kids, living our best life. Not some life my parents pictured for us, but the life we choose. She can’t really understand why so many people try to force their kids to be something they’re not. According to her slowly getting to meet your children’s truest self is one of the biggest joys of them growing up.”
Your eyes filled with tears again causing your girlfriend distress. You had been sitting opposite each other, hands intertwined in between you, but now Ana pulled you into her embrace again.
“See, I knew I shouldn’t have said anything,” your girlfriend cried out.
You shook your head, “I wanted to hear that, I needed to hear that. It makes me feel less unreasonable and ungrateful.”
Ana gently kissed the top of your head, rubbing comforting circles on your back. “You’re anything but, you’re absolutely amazing.”
The longer you were with your girlfriend and the more she told you things like these, the easier it became to believe them. It wasn’t easy or natural yet, but you found yourself questioning your old beliefs much more often.
You didn’t speak more about it that evening, indulging in some self care instead. However, a few days later you recognized that it was still bothering you. There was no way you would try again, but it also didn’t feel right to shut the door to your family completely.
Surprisingly when you brought it up to Ana, one day after training when you were cuddling on the couch, you practically on top of your girlfriend, she informed you that she had been thinking about that as well.
“How about you set up an email account just for them? This way you can check it every once in a while when you feel up to it, or I can even check it if you prefer. That would allow them to contact you if they have a change of heart, but you aren’t constantly bombarded with unwanted messages.”
A huge weight was lifted from your heart when you heard this suggestion. That was precisely what you wanted, some small gap left open, but nothing that would affect you in your everyday life. The last thing you wanted was to constantly get attacked by hurtful messages.
You placed a few kisses everywhere on your girlfriend’s face, uttering one word between each kiss,”You. Are. The. Best. Girlfriend. In. The. World. And. I. Love. You. So. Much.”
Ana happily accepted your kisses. “So, no second thoughts about moving to Mexico?” She inquired cautiously.
“Not a single one, I’m so excited for it, and I won’t let my family ruin it. Plus it would be the same if I stayed here. If anything being not only in another country, but on another continent might actually be good for me.”
“Good, because I’m very excited about it,” your girlfriend announced with a big smile.
“Me too,” you agreed.
In fact you couldn’t wait to start that adventure with Ana. You had never allowed yourself to be an adventurous person, telling yourself, or really being told by your family, that you were anything but.
However, now you realized that you did have an adventurous streak and it was high time you used it. For too long you had lived the life everyone else wanted you to live, but now you were getting another chance at life, at the life you truly wanted.
You didn't even wait until you moved to Mexico. A few days before leaving, you dragged Ana to a hairdresser, stating that both of you should change up your look to start over fresh.
What you didn't expect though, was for your girlfriend to decide she wanted to color her hair pink. You had thought about something more along the lines of cutting your hair a little shorter.
But then Ana announced with a big grin that she was going pink, and you made a split second decision, telling the hairdresser to whip up some purple hair dye for you.
And that's how the two of your started off your new life, one of you pink haired and the other one purple. You loved the way it looked and couldn't care less when pretty much the first thing out of Jenni's mouth when she picked you up from the airport was, "Where are you two going? A five year old's birthday party?"
"Shut up, Jenni, you're just jealous of us," Ana retorted.
Jenni rolled her eyes, "Maybe, but I get a feeling you're going to help me get over that by annoying me with your lovey-doveyness."
"Absolutely," you agreed, pulling your girlfriend against yourself and kissing her passionately.
"Fine! I'll stop if you stop!" Jenni exclaimed, grabbing one hand from the both of you and marching you towards the exit. "Bienvenida a México, chicas!"
122 notes · View notes
likeumeanit9497 · 3 days
Note
i read ‘wanna see’ and it was so good i was wondering if you could ever make a part 2 to it?
keep crying baby | c.s. |
chris sturniolo x fem!reader
a (sorta) part two to wanna see?
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summary: y/n and chris have been caught up in a tumultuous situationship with one another for a few months. y/n is fed up with chris' toxic behaviour and knows that she needs to stop, but why can't she?
warnings: smut; oral (fem receiving); p in v (unprotected eek); toxic chris; established fwb; alcohol consumption; dirty talk; choking; hair pulling; 18+
notes: a lot of u seemed to luv wanna see? and i was lowkey inspired to write a toxic chris fic after i heard him say "keep crying baby" on stream the other day (oop) soooo i decided to combine those two ideas into one and this is the outcome of that!! i hope y'all enjoy luv uuuuuuu
ᵕᵕᵕᵕ୨♡︎୧ᵕᵕᵕᵕ
Walking into the party, I was immediately welcomed by loud music and the heat of bodies everywhere. Tonight I was once again going to a friend’s birthday party, and my eyes immediately scanned across the room in an attempt to find her. I had arrived late because I had been taking care of my sick roommate, Bree, and felt so guilty for missing so much of her night already.
Still scanning the house, I began walking towards the kitchen to find some drinks. Everyone around me was already clearly fucked up, and I knew I had some catching up to do. I grabbed a bottle of tequila that was sitting on the kitchen counter and poured myself a line of three shots to take back-to-back, a trick that had become sort of a habit for me. Just as I brought the first shot glass to my lips, a familiar voice stopped me in my tracks.
“There you are.” His voice was low, I could barely hear it above the loud music, but I could feel the heat of his breath brush against my ear. I stayed silent and took the first shot, wincing as the liquid burned my throat. “I’m sober Chris.” I deadpanned before grabbing the second shot, and I heard him chuckle behind me. “So?” He replied as I brought the second shot glass to my lips, tilting my head back and swallowing the tequila. “If my memory is correct, the last time I saw you we were not on good terms. Therefore I’m too sober to deal with you right now.” He laughed again, this time putting a hand on my lower back and rubbing it gently. “Alright. Let’s see how long you last this time.” He said into my ear one last time before the heat of his body against mine was replaced by a cold emptiness and I was once again alone.
I rolled my eyes before taking the third and final shot in front of me, needing the liquor more now than ever before. Ever since that first time we fucked at his birthday party, Chris and I had been involved in a sort of complicated relationship. I use the word relationship here lightly, as really the bottom line is that we were really just fucking, and usually only ever when we were drunk. The sex was good, but it was creating a sort of toxicity in our friendship that wasn’t there before.
Even though we both agreed that it was nothing more than sex and that our love for each other was strictly platonic, I have learned that Chris has a habit of becoming possessive of whoever he’s fucking at the moment. I can’t lie, this dominance is fun while we’re having sex, but outside of the bedroom it did nothing but cause problems. If he saw me even in the same vicinity of another man, he would do everything in his power to scare him off. The toxicity was so addictive, but each time I had a run in with him I felt myself lose more and more of my self control. I hated that I had let him dig his claws into me, and I despised the fact that he knew how dick whipped I was.
Sucking on a lime, I shuddered both from the liquor sitting heavy in my stomach and my thoughts of Chris, and decided to do a thorough walk through of the house to finally find my friend.
ᵕᵕᵕᵕ୨♡︎୧ᵕᵕᵕᵕ
I reached for my phone in my back pocket, and through my blurry vision I saw the time read 1:43. I had been at the party for hours, and had spent the entire time drinking. Once I had found my friend, I had to pour us a round — or four — of tequila shots, and I had gone through a half dozen of the coolers in the fridge. Even though it was late, the house was still flooded with people. Each room was overflowing with bodies, and I had stumbled into the living room to take a seat and lay off the drinking before I reached the point of no return.
I flopped my body lazily on an empty couch cushion, and as I did I accidentally landed partially on a person sitting to my left. “Fuck, I’m sorry.” I slurred, turning my spinning head to acknowledge the guy. There was a deep chuckle, and once my eyes focused I discovered that I was face-to-face with a beautiful stranger. “Don’t worry about it.” I watched his full lips as he spoke, and resisted the urge to drool once he ran his tongue across his lower lip. Drunk and disoriented, I stayed completely silent as I stared blankly at his gorgeous face. “You okay?” He asked, pulling me from my trance. I nodded quickly. “Sorry yeah, what’s your name?” I asked, attempting to straighten myself out to look as presentable as possible. He smiled, his teeth pearly-white and straight. “I’m Benny. What’s yours?” I returned his smile and fixed my hair before reaching out my hand in an embarrassingly formal way. “I’m Y/n.” He looked at my ridiculous outstretched hand for a beat before taking it in his and shaking it quickly.
“You’re beautiful.” He said with a smirk, keeping my hand interlocked with his but letting it rest against my bare leg. Blushing, I adjusted in my seat and struggled to force myself to maintain eye contact. “So are you.” I replied shamelessly, taking in his sharp jawline and bright green eyes. “You here with anyone tonight?” He asked, shifting slightly closer to me. I shook my head and batted my eyelashes slightly, causing him to send me a pleased smile as he wrapped his free arm around my shoulder against the couch; using his hand that rested on my leg to brush against my skin.
Just then, I allowed my eyes to leave his and take a quick glance around the room, only for them to fall on the figure sitting in the chair directly across from me.
There was Chris, slouched nonchalantly in the chair with his legs spread and a beer sitting in his lap. There was a girl sitting beside him, enthusiastically talking to him as he stared straight at me. Everything about his outward demeanour seemed relaxed and confident, but his clenched jaw and flaring nostrils told me all I needed to know about what was going on inside his head.
His eyes burned into mine for what felt like an eternity, and my gaze was only pulled from him by Benny’s voice, distant in my ears. “Let’s go take a shot.” He began lifting himself from the couch, pulling gently at my arm as he did. “Uh, sure.” I replied tentatively, not sure that I should take another shot but also not really wanting my interaction with him to be over so quickly. I stood up on wobbly legs and he smiled, wrapping an arm around my shoulders lazily and leading me out of the living room and into the kitchen.
ᵕᵕᵕᵕ୨♡︎୧ᵕᵕᵕᵕ
Once we were standing in the kitchen, I sent Bree a quick text to check on how she was feeling as I allowed Benny to pour me a second shot. “For you, Y/n.” My eyes lifted off the screen and met his as he handed me the overflowing shot glass with a lime wedge on top, and I felt my stomach lurch at the thought of consuming anymore alcohol. “Uh, Benny, I don’t know if I should be taking a shot right now.” My voice was so slurred that even my own ears were shocked, and I used my free hand to hold onto the countertop as I felt myself spin.
“Aw come on, you can do it.” He replied in a pouty voice, placing a hand on my hip and pulling me against him harshly. “I want to tell my friends I took a shot with the hottest girl at this party.” He smirked and I felt my cheeks blush slightly, knowing that if I was sober I would have found that line horrendous but I was clearly drunk enough to be flattered. “Can I take a smaller shot then?” I asked, knowing that I shouldn’t test my limits. He shook his head with a twinkle in his eye. “Nuh-uh. Half shots aren’t real shots. Come on, if you were really too drunk you wouldn’t be worried about taking just one more.”
He lifted his shot glass to mine, resting dormant in my limp hand. Maybe he was right, I had been more drunk than I was right now, and that level of drunk-me would absolutely not question whether or not I should take another shot. So, I tentatively lifted my glass to cheers against his, and slowly brought it towards my lips while keeping my eyes locked on his. Just as I went to tilt my head back and swallow the tequila, I watched as his eyes suddenly flicked from mine to something slightly behind me, and then continued to watch as his brow furrowed in confusion as a hand came from behind me and grabbed the shot glass out of my hand.
“What the fuck, bro?” Benny’s tone had suddenly shifted to one much angrier than the one he had been using with me before, and his face had contorted into one of complete disgust, and it sort of scared me. I didn’t have to turn around to know who was responsible for this disruption, especially once I felt his familiar touch on my waist. “Oh I’m sorry, didn’t she just tell you that she didn’t want to take this shot?” Chris’ words came out smooth and relaxed, but they had a slightly menacing edge to them that made the hair on the back of my neck shoot up. My eyes still glued to Benny, I watched as he put his shot glass down and crossed his arms. “Pretty sure it’s none of your fucking business, motherfucker.” He spat, and I stiffened from the heavy silence that followed.
Chris was right up against me, and I felt his chest rise and fall rapidly and knew that he was trying to keep himself calm. His grip on my waist tightened as he worked on regaining his composure, and without even turning around I knew his eyes were burning into Benny’s just my the hesitant expression on his face. Finally, the torturous silence was broken by a gruff chuckle behind me. “You do this often, huh? Feed girls shot after shot until their vision becomes blurry enough to find you just a little bit attractive? That won’t work on Y/n.” I opened my mouth to protest but was cut off immediately by Chris’ booming voice. “She’s a party girl, and likes having a good time so she rarely turns down the opportunity to take a shot. So the fact that she tried to turn one down from you means one of two things: either she knows you’re a creep, or she knows that you would never be able to show her a good time the way that I can.”
My mouth dropped at his words, and I watched as Benny’s darkened eyes flashed between me and Chris. I tried to unscramble my mind and come up with something to say, but I was so shocked by the conversation that I couldn’t find the words. There had been a part of me that had been relieved to feel Chris behind me moments ago, but that relief had been replaced by sheer anger at Chris once again getting in the middle of my personal life in a way he never did before we started fucking. Just as I was about to turn around and push him away, Chris grabbed my arm and pulled me away. “You’re coming with me right now, Y/n.” He growled.
I was pulled through the house and towards the first floor washroom, where Chris pushed me in and locked the door behind us. I turned to face him, fists clenched at my sides and armed with a plethora of insults to shoot at him, but I couldn’t get anything out. He stood in front of me, chest heaving under his plain black tank top. His blue eyes looked like they could belong to a wild animal, the way they were frantically scanning my face. His cheeks were flushed slightly, presumably from the adrenaline of once again freeing his possessive side in front of another man. I looked at all of these parts of him, and I knew that if I hadn’t drank half as much as I did that I would have immediately shut down his toxic behaviour. But in the state of mind that the tequila had put me in, all I could see were flashes of him pinning me down, leaving marks all across my skin, whispering dirty phrases into my ear, and all of the other forms of his possession that never failed to draw me back to him.
“You need to stop doing that.” I finally managed to get out, my throat suddenly feeling excruciatingly dry. A small smile threatened to appear across his mouth before he responded. “Do what?” His voice sounded much more innocent than it had just moments before. “Cock blocking me.” I replied simply, crossing my arms over my chest. He tilted his head to the side cheekily. “I was just doing you a favour. That kid would definitely fuck like a dead fish.” I shoved his shoulder and gasped at his choice of words. “Chris! This isn’t funny. I told you this the last time. You need to stop acting like you own me every chance you get. I’m so sick of it. I’m not tied down to you, you’re not tied down to me. We’ve fucked a few times, so what? I’m allowed to do whatever I want with whoever I want, and I don’t need your approval. As a matter of fact, I actually remember telling you that the last time really was the last time, that we can’t do this anymore. And I meant it, okay? No more.”
Satisfied with my drunken rant, I allowed myself to take a deep breath and gather my composure to prepare to walk out of the washroom and back to Benny. Closing my eyes for a moment to wait for my heart rate to decrease, my moment of serenity was interrupted by Chris. “You’re sure about that?” My eyes shot open, ready to go on another slurred tangent, when Chris gestured to his shoulder. There was my hand that I had used to shove him moments ago, resting against his soft tank top, rubbing it softly. “You’re really sure you don’t want to do this anymore?” His tone was soft, but he had a knowing look in his eyes as his hands found my waist once again and pulled me against him.
As soon as my body was pressed against his and he gazed down at me affectionately, I felt that familiar combination of excitement and uncertainty that always came from his touch. He raised his eyebrows, wordlessly telling me that he was waiting for my response, but my words were failing me as my mind became clouded with thoughts of him. “What’s wrong baby?” He cooed, taking his hand and running it along the curve of my ass. “Having second thoughts?” I couldn’t shake the fuzzy feeling in my mind, and the heat that was growing in between my legs wasn’t helping at all. Against all better judgment, I brought my free hand up to his other shoulder and wrapped my arms around his neck. I stared up at him wordlessly for a few moments, my hands thoughtlessly playing with the ends of his hair as I once again lost all self control.
I stood up on my tip toes, making it so that our noses were centimetres apart. I felt his breath against my own mouth, and continued to contemplate as his hands engulfed my ass. Chris’ mouth moved towards mine, where it barely brushed my lips before I pulled away. His hand travelled up my body and to my cheek, where he used his thumb to stroke it softly. His thumb moved from my cheek down to my lower lip, where his eyes never left, and he pulled it down slightly and watched as it popped back up on release. He brought his lips to mine again, pressing them there ever so lightly as if to test the waters.
No matter how many times I tried to tell myself otherwise, I could never resist the temptation of Chris. Ever since that first time a few months ago, it was like no other sex could ever compare. Even though his behaviour pissed me off, I knew that it was never going to make it possible for me to resist him. Ever since it got a taste, my body never stopped craving his, and tonight was no exception.
Finally, I allowed my lips to crash against his, and he immediately worked his tongue into my mouth in an act of dominance. Our mouths moved in sync as the kiss deepened, and I released a breathy gasp as he pinned me against the washroom door. As we kissed, Chris brought a hand to my shirt and pulled it up over my tits so that they were completely exposed. Grabbing one in his hand, a quiet moan escaped his lips as he ran a thumb against my sensitive nipple. His mouth moved down to my neck, where he used a lethal combination of suction and biting to leave what was sure to be deep purple bruises along my sensitive skin.
Once his lips latched back onto mine, I felt his hand slip into my leather pants and cup my heat. His lips turned up in a smile against my own. “Hmm, who got you this wet princess?” I gulped for air as the very tip of his finger trailed along my already dripping slit. “Y-you Chris.” I replied, my brain on auto pilot. He chuckled before retracting his hands from my pants. “That’s what I thought.”
Suddenly, he lifted me into the air and my legs immediately wrapped around his waist as he continued to fervently kiss me. I felt him place me delicately on the sink, and I wrapped my arms around his neck to keep his mouth on mine. Still having complete control over our tempo, he used his mouth to slow the motion of our kiss down tremendously. Still just as deep as before, our lips moved in a lumbering pace as he pressed his bulge against my core. Unable to help myself, I released a soft whine in frustration as my heat began to pulsate. “Tell me what you want, Y/n.” Chris whispered against my lips, maintaining the feverishly slow pace of the kiss. “W-want you to make me feel good.” I replied in a squeaky voice, nearly panting from the anticipation.
“Hmm. That’s what I thought.” He said, pulling his mouth away from me and staring down at me with glazed over eyes. He didn’t make me beg anymore before he unbuckled my pants and pulled them — along with my thong — down my legs, and dropped to his knees. He grabbed my shins and pulled my legs apart, leaving my pussy completely exposed and in his sightline. “Looks so pretty like this baby, so wet for me. Can’t wait to taste it.” He took a moment to admire my heat before bringing his mouth down just to the side of where I needed him the most.
My hips bucked up in anticipation as he worked his mouth against my inner thigh, frustrated that he was teasing me when I was so turned on that it almost hurt. After what felt like forever, he inched his mouth closer and closer to my cunt at a snail speed, and I watched — mouth agape — at his fluttering eyelashes and small sprinkle of freckles along his nose as he finally made contact with my aching core. My hands immediately flew to his hair, fisting the curls at the nape of his neck to hold him in place as his tongue drilled against my clit.
“Mmm yeah baby, please, just like that.” I slurred as his mouth worked its magic on me. He released occasional hums against my bundle of nerves, which provided a new sensation that caused my eyes to roll to the back of my head. Chris maintained the same amount of speed and pressure with his tongue, and him and I both knew that it wouldn’t take him long to get me to my orgasm.
With a taunting finger, Chris ran circles around my hole, causing me to shift my hips in delirium. He knew that doing this drove me crazy, and when he finally used his fingers to fill me up, I released a guttural moan that echoed through the small washroom. His pumping fingers never missed my g-spot, and my dripping arousal caused our ears to fill with a wet sucking sound. “Oh god,” I began, trembling from the unmistakable feeling building up in my lower stomach. “Oh fuck, gonna cum Chrissy.” I managed to get out as my mind began to unravel. Chris moaned against my pussy but maintained his pace, pushing me over the edge. Suddenly, a violent orgasm washed over me, causing my grip on his hair to tighten and my back to arch. As it rolled through me, a plethora of incoherent phrases left my lips as I lost complete control over myself, and Chris didn’t stop his merciless actions until I felt the gush of my release against his mouth and down his chin.
After placing a soft kiss against my sensitive bud, Chris got on his feet in front of me and fumbled with his own pants. I watched as my chest heaved, feeling like I had lost my mind, as he pulled his boxers down and exposed his cock — its size still never failing to startle me. He positioned himself between my open legs, and I watched with hungry eyes as he grabbed his hard dick and pressed it firmly against my needy core. “You want this?” His voice was in my ear as he tauntingly slid his member through my soaked folds. I swallowed, unable to take my eyes off of his length, and nodded. Suddenly, he used his free hand to land a sharp slap to my thigh. “Y/n, we’ve talked about this. Use your words.” I looked up at him through my fluttering eyelashes apologetically. “I-I want your cock.” I said, my words shaky and laced with desperation. They brought a dark smile to Chris’ lips, however, and it didn’t take him long to slam his hips into mine; filling my cunt with every inch of him.
His size still shocking, I practically screamed as my walls moulded around him. With each of his powerful thrusts into me, I couldn’t help but release loud moans from the combination of pleasure and pain. Even in my fucked out state, I was aware of the dozens of people just on the other side of the door, and I used my own hand to cover my mouth in an attempt to stifle the uncontrollable sounds from slipping out of it. Chris’ eyes were watching his member slide in and out of me in awe, before they trailed up my body and back onto my face. Noticing my hand over my mouth, he grabbed it and pried it off; holding it firmly in his own against the counter top.
“No no, keep crying baby. Want everyone to hear how good I make you feel.” His words scrambled my brain into an aroused mess, and I did as he said and allowed sobs of pleasure to fall from my lips as he continued to pound into me relentlessly. “S-so g-good Chris.” I murmured, digging my nails into his back as his head dropped onto my shoulder. He released occasional grunts as he rolled his hips against mine, and the vocal confirmation of his pleasure was like music to my ears.
Suddenly, Chris pulled his dick out of me and I gasped at the shock that came from the loss of contact. He kept his head resting against my shoulder for a moment as his breath hitched, and I was wondering if he already finished when he finally pulled himself up and planted a deep kiss on my swollen lips. “Off the counter.” He commanded, voice raspy with lust. I did as I was told, still in a trance, before he grabbed my shoulders and spun me around so that I was now facing the sink. I saw a glance of myself in the mirror and came face-to-face with a girl who was practically unrecognizable. Eyes wild, lips puffy, and hair in shambles, it was like I caught a glimpse of the alternate version of me that just couldn’t get enough of the toxicity that was Chris.
Before I could spend anymore time staring at the girl in the mirror, Chris grabbed a fistful of my hair and used his grip to bend me over the sink. Using his other hand to encourage my legs apart, he wasted no time in sliding his cock back in my soaked cunt. Through the mirror, his eyes drilled into me and the intensity that it brought was overwhelming. His blue eyes were blown out, and his jaw was tense as if he was boiling over in anger. The new position that he had put me in provided me with a new sensation, and being bent over allowed him to have easier access to my g-spot; which he hit with precision on each thrust. “You feel so fucking good wrapped around me like this, Y/n.” Chris growled, and I moaned in acknowledgment.
“Who’s pussy is this?” He asked in a demanding tone, and my eyes flashed to his in the mirror. I felt my second orgasm bubbling up inside me, and my words were nowhere to be found. In my silence, Chris slapped my ass hard — sure to leave a dark red mark — before asking again. “Y/n, tell me who’s pussy this is.” Even though I didn’t think it was possible, Chris began pounding his hips into me even harder and faster, doing everything he could to draw the answer from my lips. “Y-yours. It’s yours C-Chris.” I screamed out after he slapped my ass once more, and I watched through droopy eyelids as he smirked at me through the mirror before grabbing my throat and pulling me up to him.
“That’s right,” He began, leaving sloppy open-mouthed kisses against my neck. “This is my fucking pussy. Don’t forget that princess.” He drove his hips up into me unforgivingly, and once he reached his fingers around my body and began rubbing my clit, I felt my legs weaken as my orgasm began taking over. “Oh yeah baby, feel so good with your walls milking me like that. Go on, make a mess.” He spoke his filthy words right into my ear, and my body took them as verbal permission as my second orgasm swept me off my feet. I felt myself go limp, and lost all of my senses as my body was hit with relentless waves of pleasure. Chris never stopped pounding into me, and as my arousal dripped down his legs he pressed my lethargic body back down onto the counter.
Overstimulated, I continued to cry out as Chris slammed in and out of me; chasing his own high. My body felt simultaneously lifeless and reactive, and I gripped tightly to the countertop as I struggled to keep myself from sliding to the floor. “Oh fuck, baby, I’m close.” Chris muttered, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment before shooting open and once again landing on mine in the mirror. “I’m gonna cum inside you, and you’re gonna take all of it like a good girl. Okay?” His words were choppy, and he was visibly struggling to maintain his composure, but still I nodded frantically. “O-okay, fill me up baby.” I moaned out, feeling the pressure of one final overstimulated orgasm take over me.
My body broke out into convulsions as I came, the lack of down-time between this one and my last causing my nerves to feel like they might explode. As I rode out my final high, Chris’ hips suddenly stilled and, as he released a throaty moan, I felt his cock twitch inside of me; shooting his warm cum against my walls. I watched his euphoric expression in the mirror as he finished —jaw slack, eyes fluttered shut; muscles flexed — before his eyes opened once again and he bent down to place a gentle kiss on the small of my back.
After giving us both a moment to catch our breaths, Chris slowly pulled his cock out of my raw core; causing me to wince slightly. He walked over to grab the roll of toilet paper and used it to clean me and then him as I pressed my forehead against the cool counter top. As I rested there for a moment, regaining my conscious mind, I was filled with the all-too-familiar feeling of confliction. Once again, I had encouraged Chris’ possessive behaviour by sleeping with him, but fuck, it had felt so good. This had been happening for weeks, and each time it did it had ended the same way it did tonight.
I let out a groan in frustration, and Chris chuckled under his breath. “Something wrong?” He asked, and I lifted my head off the counter and looked at him through the mirror. “We cannot keep doing this Chris.” I mumbled, straightening myself up to fix my hair and makeup. Chris sighed as he pulled his pants back up. “I don’t understand what the problem is. You clearly enjoyed yourself just now.” His voice was arrogant, and I rolled my eyes. “The problem is not the sex, Chris. The problem is I’m not yours, and you don’t seem to get that.” He leaned against the door and crossed his arms, watching as I slowly began putting my clothes back on.
“Y/n, I know you’re not mine, and I’m fine with that. But that doesn’t mean I want you to be anyone else’s.” He paused for a moment with a bold glint in his eyes before continuing. “Now hurry up and get dressed. Matt’s coming to pick me up soon and you’re coming home with me. I’m not leaving you here with that weirdo fuck.” He didn’t wait for me to respond before opening the door just enough to slide his body through, leaving me alone in the bathroom. And once again — as if my body had detached from my brain — I buttoned up my pants, pulled my shirt back down, and followed him out the door; sending Bree a quick text letting her know I wouldn’t be home tonight.
ᵕᵕᵕᵕ୨♡︎୧ᵕᵕᵕᵕ
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thecapricunt1616 · 2 days
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Pink Pony Club (Richie Jerimovich one-shot)
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♡ One-Shot Inspo: Pink Pony Club by Chappell Roan "I'm up, and jaws are on the floor. Lovers in the bathroom and a line outside the door. Blacklights, and a mirrored disco ball Every night's another reason why I left it all" ♡ Summary: You're an Exotic Dancer / part time house mom at The Pink Pony, and end up falling for a man that is probably old enough to be your father. ♡ W/C: 2.9k ♡ Poste Date: 06/10/2024 ♡ A/N: Hello all! again, for the asks that are atp starting to mold in my inbox - imma get to you. This specific dirty old man in a suit has been making me feel things lately, so naturally I had to write some porn about it. Asks are still open even though I cant promise it'll be done snappy. Hope everyones week is off to a great start so far!! Tagged those who commented on the post saying this would be a good idea just so you could see how it came out, hope you like :) ♡ Warnings for BTC: Age gap relationships (R is in her mid-to-late 20's, mentions of sex work, Club environments, swearing, smut, rough sex (Richie likes to be slapped around sometimes, kay?) lowkey simp!Richie, no use of Y/N - pet names only, readers stage name is Pixie Polestar , unprotected sex, not edited, we die like men!
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♡ 𝐌𝐲 𝐋𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬 ♡ ➵ 𝐂𝐡𝐞𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 ♡ ➵ 𝐂𝐚𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐲 𝐨𝐧𝐞-𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐚𝐠𝐞 ♡ ➵ 𝘊𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 / 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘵 ♡ ➵ 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 ♡
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You had met Richie just about 2 months ago. It was safe to say, life had chewed him up and spit him out lately. 
If he was being honest with himself, the dating pool wasn’t exactly rich at 46 years old. He could count on almost two hands how long it had been since he got his dick up for more than just the binightly pornhub browser. 
That led him into the Pink Pony Club one fateful August night. You were working your usual shift, Pixie Polestar. You - unlike some of the other girls - really enjoyed your job. At least, the aspect of having fun on stage, doing cute, sexy little acrobat-like tricks on the pole while horny men paid you to take more of your clothes off?
Yes please. 
You weren’t a back room kind of girl, usually. That was because the amount of money you made from tricks on the pole was more than a lot of the girls you worked with made in a whole shift while you just worked the 45 minute trick-filled stage set then would give a few $400 lap dances depending on your mood, before skipping on home, taking a hot shower, and slipping in your silk sheets with your air conditioner turning your bedroom something akin to an ice box. 
That was how that night was supposed to go. 
How the night really went, was some loud borderline obnoxious man at least 15 years your senior, had found his way into the Pink Pony. He was wearing a pressed navy blue suit, that complimented his pretty blue eyes. That was the second thing you noticed about him while he loudly whistled for Krystal who was currently doing her set. 
You weren’t really supposed to be here anymore - well- you didn’t have to be here. You had found yourself a solution, a real career path if you will. But you enjoyed your time on the pole because it was art, and dancing was a confidence booster for you. In any regard, you were going to get older, you were going to pass your prime as the house mom was always telling you girls, so you needed another stream of income. 
Of course, being a … *eh-hem* - exotic dancer was the word you preferred, stripper just sounded trashy to you, did come with its negative stereotypes, one of which being no where will rent to you - because you had terrible credit. So, naturally, being the resourceful woman you are - you walked your happy ass to the open house of a for sale by owner showing, and told the nice realtor you’d take it. 
Boom. Done, you had a place to live in 3 weeks, when you closed on it. Then, it dawned on you. The other girls you worked with had the same issue you did. So, you found another house, saved another 25k for the amount to put down, and rented it to your coworkers. 
It was the perfect system, because you knew you’d get your rent. You knew exactly how much money each girl made because you watched them make it, you knew where they lived, and they had to look you in the eye every night. So it’s easy to say no one ever tried you. The only real reason you hung around The Pink Pony anymore was because you wanted to keep an eye on your girls and dancing was fun too. 
When he first laid eyes on you, it was something akin to a cartoon character when their pupils turn into hearts. It wasn’t too abnormal, you were one of the more bombshell-esc dancers at the club, and that isn’t to say that you outdid anyone it was all based on preference. Some men loved plain Jane’s, and the plain Jane’s were just as beautiful as any of the other girls, but the reaction of men basically tripping over their feet to try and come talk to you was more likely going to happen to you then anyone else.  
But he…didn’t come over, that was interesting to you. So, you being the master of customer service you were, took your drink and kept your eyes locked on his as you made your way across the room, and plopped right in his lap. “Never seen you here before sweetheart” your manicured hand found the back of his neck, gently caressing over his skin. 
He tried to play it cool, but your tits we’re basically in his face, he could smell your perfume perfectly, fuck he genuinely can’t believe that a girl so beautiful just sauntered over and sat in his fucking lap. Was he dreaming? He found his mind racing, and for once in his 46 years he was dumbfounded and couldn’t find anything to say. 
“Cat got your tongue honey?” You smirked a bit, gently cupping his stubbly cheek and rubbing your thumb over his bottom lip, pulling it gently before letting it snap back into place. He swallowed thickly, his hand resting on your bare thigh, just below the white glittery mesh coverup you were wearing. 
“I’m Richie.” He blurted out, his cheeks felt like they were on fucking fire, any blood that wasn’t rushing there was rushing to his cock and he found himself wondering when the last time he’d gotten hard so easy was. 
“Well hello Richie. I’m Pixie, what brings a handsome man like you in on a Friday night mm, no big plans?” You absentmindedly played with his chain, pretending to pay no mind to the long length that was hardening in the curve of your ass. All you would have to do is shuffle just a tiny bit and his cock would be nestled between your cheeks and the itty bitty powder pink g string that you wore beneath the tiny mesh piece of fabric that was basically for show and no use to cover anything. 
“I guess I was lookin’ f’some entertainment. Think I found it” he spread his legs more, causing you to sink further into his lap and his hand found the curve of your waist, his thumb rubbing little up and down strokes over the smooth skin. He never believed that the sheer triple x rated porn movie he was creating in his mind would become a reality that night but man did it. 
It was also his first night taking the dreaded viagra prescription his doctor had given him when he got real about his … shortcomings as of late. The man isn’t what he used to be stamina wise, okay? Nonetheless - he still rocked your shit - well, more like you rocked his. 
Who knew this foul mouthed, old school, borderline toxic masculinity-entrenched motherfucker would get so much pleasure from your palm coming across his cheek just hard enough it left a yummy sting and telling him “My eyes are up here you old pervert” as you bounced on his cock with a rhythm he couldn’t bring to the table himself anymore, and that in turn causing your tits to bounce like a fucking hentai film less then a foot from his face. 
Something about a younger girl calling him old and smacking him around all while using his cock to get herself off, babbling about how good he makes her feel made him more confident then he had been in years.
He often would find himself feeling a little pang of sadness after you started seeing eachother, in moments where you two were laughing a way he only ever did with Mikey before you came around, and making him feel like he was in fuckin’ High school again with how giddy he was to see you after every shift. All of it would just remind him how bad he wishes you could have met Mikey, and how bad he wishes he could tell Mikey. 
Richie knows, he would be so jealous, but in a brotherly way - that such a young hot piece of ass, a young smart, hot, funny, piece of ass was calling him daddy, told him he was ‘her mans’ whatever the fuck that meant. He assumed girls today call their boyfriends that, there were a lot of little phrases and lingo you had to explain to him and would always make fun of him for being old after doing so. 
He would tease you too, having some late 80s early 90’s radio station on (because the old head didn’t understand what streaming was) while he drove you around of course since he had learned from you that you were his ‘passenger princess’ and saying something like ‘oh babygirl this is before your time, this is from my day” before cranking up the radio and serenading you with Bad Girl by Madonna, belting it in such a silly, dramatic way between drags of his cigarette you couldn’t help but burst into giggles and kiss him at the next red. 
You had told him that when you used to do private dances that Like a Virgin was one of your favorite to dance to for the ‘older’ gentleman, he spanked you playfully when you said his crowd was older as he usually did, and of course later that night he had you perform for him and you ended up getting your back blown out to material girl since you had been streaming the song from your phone and didn’t care to find it and turn it off. 
When Tina had played it jokingly at family dinner one night, he couldn’t help the smirk that came to his lips at the memory. Funnily enough, she was the first person to find out about you. Of course, he didn’t divulge anything other than he was finally seeing someone consistently, nothing about your age or profession. Based on the way Tina had reacted with clapping and kissing his cheeks, gushing “I’m so proud of you papa! That’s so good, this is so good for you! You need to get out there more” he was reevaluating his social life or lack there of and telling himself he needed to get out more, which lucky for him you were young and bubbly so you could get him out of the house. 
The next person he told, he really told, was Carmy. Well- technically Syd too, but she just happened to overhear. 
“W-wait wait” Carmy pinched the bridge of his nose how he did when he was baffled and confused, brows knitting together as he shook his head. “Lemme- lemme just get this straight - y’datin a…..” 
“Ex-o-tic dancer, cousin. It’s 2024, fuckin hell. Women dance and get paid for it - no big deal.” He repeated, emphasizing each sound as if what he was explaining was the most casual thing in the world, which - you had explained to him it should be so he took that and ran with it. 
“You’re fucking…a stripper- a stripper that’s what they’re called when they dance naked -  and how old did you say she was?” Syd questions. 
“Hey- she leaves her panties on she’s only naked top up, and plus she doesn’t even have to anymore she does it for the art.” He points the spoon he was wiping down at Carmy “this new NOMA bullshit we’re doin’ here isn’t the only art, Cousin. Shes an artist” he dropped the spoon in the bucket with the rest of the pristine ones he’d worked on. 
“Sure- and she’s fuckin younger then me” Carmy replied. “She could be y’fuckin-“
“Yeah, yeah - whatever she could be my fuckin daughter where’s your girlfriend huh? I don’t see anyone linin’ up to fuck you. She’s nice, and into me - and - and she’s funny and smart. So see already 2 qualities named that I don’t see much of around here so excuse fuckin me f’wantin to be happy when I’m not in this shithole” he teased 
“So- this not even 30 year old, she is gonna be y’date to the thanksgiving friends and family night - the one your daughter and ex wife are attending - and you think that will be a good idea considering tiff’s track record with girls you bring around” Syd questioned. 
“Yup” was all he said before taking the now finished bin of spoons to be put away, glad for the conversation to have finally been over. 
He rehashed the whole conversation with you later that night as you slowly rolled your hips into his, your skin sticking to his, both of you covered with a thin layer of sweat. You had his hands pinned next to his head, fingers interlaced with yours, practically speaking into your mouth as you kissed him sloppy and open mouthed, obsessed with eachothers taste. You always tasted of bubblegum, a habit you’d carried with you since childhood, he always tasted of cigarettes, a habit he had carried since high school. 
“Baby with my job I’m used to people not understanding me - I didn’t expect your friends to like me. My job - it can make people uncomfortable. But fuck them. You know how we feel huh?” You picked up the speed of your hips, using the curly deep brown patch of hair at the base of his cock to cause the most delicious friction with each thrust on his cock as you chased your orgasm. 
“Ye’ fuck em baby- shit- so fuckin tight- all mine right?” He breathed, mouthing over the bruises he’d left on your breasts a few nights ago. That was one thing about your job he had a bit of difficulty getting past, but you assured him you had no feelings for any clients and that you weren’t doing lap dances anymore only your stage set and otherwise you were just there to be more of a second house mom. But still, he was a man after all. He was possessive, a little jealous sometimes. So he loved to hear that you were only his during moments like this. 
“Yes daddy- all yours. You own this- you own me” you kissed his hand before bringing it to your breast and then using his shoulders as leverage to bounce further up and down, the action causing his head to fall back and jaw to fall slack. 
“Just like that - god- fuck - holy shit baby- shit-shit- y’fuckin close? How fuckin long has it been?” He pinched your nipple lightly, causing your pussy to clench around him and a pornstar like whine to leave your lips 
“It’s been 15 minutes- Christ you’re like a teenager. Can’t even last 30 minutes?” You teased, leaning in and kissing his neck, biting and nibbling the skin as you circle your hips, essentially jutting the tip of his cock into your g spot and that floaty feeling sneaking up on you as you feel him shoot rope after rope of arousal, painting your pretty, gummy walls a milky white and his stomach muscles clenching at the overstimulation. 
The grunts and moans that left his lips when you got him here were some of the hottest noises you’d ever heard a man make before, you were always sure to file them away in a special little folder in your brain for a rainy day he wasn’t able to get you off himself. “Feel good daddy?” You asked sweetly, sitting up and resting your hands on his hips so you could look down and watch as your mixed arousals gush out of you and around him, thick strings breaking with each slow, purposeful roll of your hips 
“So fuckin good baby- Jesus gonna finish soon? Dunno how much more I can do” he said, voice breathy, blissed out, nearly whiny. 
“Mmhmm few more minutes daddy- god we’re so pretty, I bet we taste so good mm?” You swipe the pad your forefinger over your clit, gathering the sweet and bitter white, making a show of rubbing it over the hardened bud of your nipple “feels good, too, wanna tell me how it tastes?” You leaned in and he nearly groaned as he took your breast in his mouth, crystal like eyes seeding into your own gaze as he flicked his tongue gratefully around the sensitive nub. 
You whined hotly, the sight of your tit in his mouth mixed with the feeling of his pants huffing through his nose and fanning over the swollen flesh as his tongue swirled and licked and flicked and drove you over the edge. You cried out, hips stuttering as you rode out your orgasm. His hand found your heat, rubbing with scissored fingers over your clit and meeting around his cock before dragging his fingers back up to repeat the assault. 
The action had you gushing around him, the contractions of your heat getting stronger causing him to groan into your skin and that vibration just added more stimulation. “Fuck yes- god daddy- always make me feel so good, no one understands how good we make eachother feel hm? Nothing else matters, baby, as long as you feel good, right?” 
You pulled him in for a sloppy, hot, passionate kiss. A kiss that made his heart do flips, and his stomach flutter, and made him feel way lighter.
Richie thought to himself in that moment he may be falling in love again, and he was equal parts fucking terrified, and excited to see where things with you went. 
He just had to get over ripping off the very last bandaid, and then you could really be together -
And that bandaid was Tiff.
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@aestheticaltcow - @myszie - @wtfsteveharrington
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jovieinramshackle · 2 days
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"I'm supposed to help the Princes? Alright, then I'll make sure they stay in line."
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•Groovification: Sheesh, I'm not even a host, yet it feels like I'm doing double the work of one.
•Set Home Screen: The glitter isn’t half bad.
•Home Idle 1: *chuckles* Yes Grim, you look as wonderful as the starry sky with your new ribbon.
•Home Idle 2: What? W-Wait, Neige is coming towards us?? *blushes* Oh no, I'm not mentally prepared to see him- H-Hey, come on, don't laugh at me!
•Home Idle 3: I would love to dance more during the ball, but it seems like helping out the Princes will drain more energy out of me than I'd like …
•Home, after login: I don't usually have my hair in a ponytail, but I believe it goes better with the outfit.
•Home Idle Groovification: I hope there won't be any fights between the two schools…and by that I mean, I hope the NRC students don't cause any trouble. 
•Home Tap 1: Deuce? As a Prince? …oh dear that's- Wait no, no, that's mean of me, I'm sure he'll do great, we should have faith in him.
•Home Tap 2: Jovie’s all over Azul, again. I suppose I should have expected it, but seriously, have some class…
•Home Tap 3: One thing I can rely on Kalim for is hospitality. With that quality alone, I know he'll be a good host for the ball.
•Home Tap 4: Hornton looks as magnificent as ever. But I suppose that's to be expected from an actual Prince like him, I just hope he enjoys the night.
•Home Tap 5: I'm expecting appropriate payment for all the work we're doing here. What, tuna? …Fine, I'll make sure to ask for tuna as well.
•Home Tap Groovification: The Belle of the Ball you say…*sigh* No, I've left these things behind me, they're not good for me at all.
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The Glimmering Soiree event is created by @starry-night-rose! Make sure to check it and the other people's works out here <3
Ahhhh finally done with Jess! I actually had a lot of fun making this, but the outfit caused some frustrations, so I kept it simple so I wouldn't lose my mind lmao
(Also if it wasn't obvious yes, in the voice lines Jess is talking to Grim)
Also!! I'm planning on drawing a groovy version too, and possibly writing the vignette of the card! Nothing's set in stone yet but it is something I wanna try (only for Jess tho, mainly because I have no idea what Jovie's vignette would be about lmao, but who knows maybe I'll change my mind)
Here's the full thing!
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tagging: @ramshacklerumble @thehollowwriter @summerspook @scint1llat3 @skriblee-ksk
@cyanide-latte @twistedwonderlandshenanigans (lmk if you wanna be added)
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ryuichirou · 1 day
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Replies
But also some news!
First of all, I wanted to remind you that my pricelist will be updated by the end of the week, so please feel free to message me if you want to take a slot to commission me with my current prices!
Second of all, we got our twitter account back! We ended up deleting that one post that twitter didn’t like (yes, the one that doesn’t have anything explicit or any nudity on it), which obviously sucks, but at least now we can jump back to posting more or less regularly.
And now that this situation is over, I can say about the thing that honestly tickled me: the last person who wrote a callout post on me right before our acc got locked (=the person who very likely caused the massreporting in the first place) got accused of grooming a 13 y.o. and had their account terminated the very next day. What a great illustration of how the fandom climate works, right? Hilarious.
Alright, replies replies. Some about Fellow and Gidel, some about Rook, Idia, a little bit of Lilia and some miscellaneous asks.
Anonymous asked:
wait, Fellow is it a good idea for Gidel to write?? Isn't he illiterate?? (I might be wrong on the writing part, but I'm pretty sure Gidel is said to be unable to speak because he didn't get an education :(, r.i.p to the poor boy)
But look at it, Anon! He clearly writes, and like a typical doctor as well! A highly educated man!
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(Yeah, Gidel doesn’t know how to write lol I am not sure if Fellow is super literate either… just like the characters they are inspired by lol)
Anonymous asked:
I want to bite Idia’s thighs but I also want to nibble Lilia’s legs courtesy of your pic of him in those delicious Playful Land tights 😩
(this is about a sketch from ko-fi)
They really are nibbleable… nibbable… one would want to nib on them. And Lilia knows that :(
Thank you <3
irregardlessly-tish asked:
Since you started posting Fellow art I said to myself "I guess I'm watching that event now so I can look at the art and think yeah, he would totally get gang banged by them" lol
Tish! You’re great as always lol I hope you enjoy it as much as we did.
Fellow is so breedable it’s insane. I can’t help it.
unofficialwheatdog asked:
I'm gonna snatch Fellow away from everyone
Like that my husband, he fluffiness mine and mine alone
Mwah mwah to Fellow I wove him and the way you draw him
he's too good for them but ruined enough for me(lol me in my possessive era)
Omg real possessive era lol I get it, he really is fluffy to the point of leaving one speechless. But please understand, these boys can’t hold back at all… :( Be kinder them, they can’t help it!
I’m glad you love how I draw him <3
Anonymous asked:
Curious, u do non con/ rape art?
Pls tag if yes, I wanna see
I do, but I also don’t remember any recent noncon piece to tag anything lol I am definitely not opposed to it, and a lot of our nsfw pieces have at least dub-con vibes. I guess that one general!Lilia/Idia piece comes to mind first! And octopus!Azul/Idia that I drew for the same zine…
Maybe it would be easier to look through my pixiv logs; all the nsfw pieces are usually closer to the end of the log.
Anonymous asked:
You know I never had interest in drawing nsfw, I started a fanart blog with the intent of just making cute/cool sfw pieces maybe some ship stuff. However I am sick and tired of watching the twst fandom affect the mental health of my friends. And I know at least one of my ships will be threatened even if they just hold hands.
So here’s my plan: if I start receiving hate I will make an announcement: if I reach a particular milestone of hate I will learn to draw nsfw. I will make them kiss harder. Harass me and I will become worse.
Fr tho I want to be the brave idiot in the hope that others won’t feel alone.
Sorry for the late reply! Anon, you are already brave lol I like your plan. Become worse to spite them! And to support everyone who is harassed. And to have fun of course.
I wish you and your friends and anyone else didn’t have to worry about being harassed because of your ships. So please, take care of yourself, but also? Fuck them; draw and post whatever you want to make yourself and your friends happier and enjoy the fandom experience that you and your friends create.
Anonymous asked:
"something's missing..." might be your shirt rook, idk tho 🤔
(this is about this drawing)
Oh no, he forgot his shirt again. And no one at Savanaclaw is brave enough to tell him.
Anonymous asked:
 I remember that Savannaclaw Rook only cut his hair with a knife, soooo, yeah. How do you think first year Rook would respond to first year Idia and vice versa?
Honestly it looks like it lol He and Lilia have something in common…
We love first year Rook with first year Idia so much, Anon, you have no idea! And Rook/Idia in general, this is one of the things that I really want to draw properly at least once. For now we only have sketches…
But to answer your question! I like to think that Rook was very intrigued by Idia right away; of course Idia isn’t a beastman, but he is not only super bright and shiny-looking (unusual! Interesting!), but also is a very rare pokemon to see. It’s very easy to picture Rook getting excited and charmed by him, maybe he even had a period of a little obsession~ But of course none of this is in any way returned by Idia; to him being suddenly surrounded by so many loud and annoying people his age is already stressful enough, but Rook is somehow worse than all of them combined. He hates everyone from Savanaclaw, but they’re usually just rude jerks, but Rook? If only he was a rude jerk…
Anonymous asked:
Chen’ya, are you flashing people on purpose? What are you gonna do if someone likes it?
(related to this post)
Knowing Che’nya, he’ll probably disappear lol Never let them guess your next move. They liked it? Too bad. They didn’t like it? Oh too bad… >:3
Sometimes he is in a flirty mood though~
Anonymous asked:
I’m surprised Lilia doesn’t also spank Idia to punish him
He really should, and his spanks wouldn’t be as murderous as Azul’s! Idia is going to receive punishment AND survive!
I can picture Lilia stopping mid-spank with the realisation though: oh right, this isn’t his kid, this is Idia…
Anonymous asked:
(tw: self-harm)
this might be a bit dark but i’m curious: do you think idia self-harms? every now and then, i see ppl draw him with SH scars. i’ve never been able to decide if it feels like him or not. punishing himself, hating himself, wanting to control this one aspect of his life bc he can’t control anything else sound like idia, but also, being too resigned, lazy, or phobic of pain also sound like idia… little nutjob he is 😒 thoughts?
This is such a good question, Anon. It’s honestly still kind of easy to imagine him doing that. He punishes himself constantly, and while I don’t think this is necessarily about control, this absolutely could be about wanting to make himself feel even worse or to distract himself from the other kind of deep pain he’s feeling. Since we’re talking about a character here, as an artist I can also add that seeing him this way could be aesthetically pleasing, there are some very good artworks with this theme.
That being said, we usually tend to think that Idia wouldn’t do that. I agree that Idia being phobic of pain sounds very like him, but also? He is very detached from the physical side of things in general, I think. He would rather torment himself mentally.
Another reason for Idia and selfharm not really working in our heads is that I don’t think Ortho would let him. He is very sensitive to changes in his health condition after all.
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deerlino · 22 hours
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lost and found.
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bang chan x fem!reader / you and chan are about to get married, but the day before the wedding, he just disappears. there’s a note on your bed, and from that point on, everything goes downhill.
additional tags / angst, hurt-comfort, emotional turmoil, wedding jitters, cold feet, open ending, love confessions, pre-wedding drama, visuals (text messages, letter), apologies — 963 words in total.
content warnings / abandonment, lack of communication, commitment issues, panic and anxiety (subtle), facing fears (fear of the future ?), some strong language (cussing), chan’s kind of an asshole (😅)
further notes / writing angst is so much fun, seriously my fave genre ever. 😝 been all about the fluffy stuff lately, but i had to dive back into my roots and whip up some tasty pre-wedding angst. what do you think? i'm totally loving it, heheh. hope you enjoy the ride! <3
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The day before your wedding, you can’t help but feel a buzz of excitement and nervousness. You've waited for this moment for so long, and now it's almost here. You and Chan have been inseparable since you met, and tomorrow was supposed to be the start of your forever. But when you wake up that morning, something feels off.
You stretch out your hand, expecting to find Chan beside you, but the bed is cold. Frowning, you sit up, scanning the room for any sign of him. That’s when you see it—a note on his pillow. Your heart sinks as you reach for it, hands trembling.
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You stare at the words, not comprehending. Had to leave? What does that even mean? Panic starts to rise in your chest as you read the note over and over again, hoping it will magically change or offer some explanation. But it doesn’t.
You grab your phone and dial his number, but it goes straight to voicemail. “Chan, what the hell is going on? Where are you? Call me back, please,” you plead, trying to keep your voice steady.
Hours pass, and still no word from Chan. You call his friends, his family, anyone who might know where he is, but no one has seen him. Every minute feels like an eternity, and the worry is gnawing at your insides.
By afternoon, your concern turns to anger. How could he do this to you? The day before your wedding, no less. You pace the living room, clutching your phone, willing it to ring. When it finally does, you almost drop it in your haste to answer.
“Hello?”
“Y/N.” It’s Chan’s voice, but it sounds strained.
“Chan! Where are you? What’s going on?” The questions spill out before you can stop them.
“I... I’m sorry, Y/N. I just... I need some time to think.”
“Think? About what? We’re getting married tomorrow!”
There’s a long pause, and you can hear him take a deep breath. “I know. I just... I’m not sure if I’m ready.”
The words hit you like a punch to the gut. “Not ready? Are you fucking kidding me, Chan? We’ve been planning this for months! Why are you doing this now?”
“I didn’t want to hurt you,” he says quietly.
“Well, guess what? You did hurt me. A lot. And you could’ve talked to me instead of just disappearing.”
“I’m so sorry,” he repeats, but it feels hollow. “I just... I need to figure some things out.”
You hang up, tears streaming down your face. Why would he do this to you? You feel a mix of hurt and rage, your emotions swinging wildly. Part of you wants to find him and demand answers, while another part of you just wants to curl up and cry.
The rest of the day is a blur. You cancel the rehearsal dinner, making up excuses for why Chan isn’t there. Your friends and family try to comfort you, but nothing they say can ease the pain.
That night, you lie in bed, staring at the ceiling, replaying every moment you’ve shared with Chan. You wonder where it all went wrong. Was it something you did? Something you said? The uncertainty is maddening.
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The next morning, you wake up to a flurry of text messages. One stands out—it’s from Chan.
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You hesitate, fingers hovering over the screen. Part of you wants to ignore him, to make him feel the pain you’re feeling. But the other part of you needs answers.
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You arrive at the little park where you and Chan have shared so many memories. He’s sitting on the bench, looking more miserable than you’ve ever seen him. When he sees you, he stands up, but you hold up a hand to stop him.
“Just... explain,” you say, keeping your distance.
He takes a deep breath. “I’ve been freaking out, Y/N. The thought of forever, it just... it scared me. I started doubting everything, and I didn’t know how to tell you.”
“So you ran away instead? That’s real mature, Chan.”
“I know, I know. It was stupid. But I love you, and the idea of losing you terrified me even more.”
You can see the sincerity in his eyes, but the hurt is still too fresh. “You could’ve talked to me. We could’ve worked through it together.”
He nods, looking down. “I’m sorry. I should’ve. I was just so scared of disappointing you, of not being enough.”
You step closer, your anger softening a little. “Chan, we’re supposed to be a team. If you’re scared or unsure, you need to tell me. We face things together, remember?”
He looks up, tears in his eyes. “I remember. And I’m so sorry I forgot that. I promise, I’ll never run away again.”
You take a deep breath, the weight of the past day starting to lift. “This isn’t going to be easy, you know. We’ve got a lot to talk about, and it’s going to take time to rebuild that trust.”
“I know. And I’m willing to do whatever it takes,” he says, stepping closer.
You nod, feeling a small glimmer of hope. “Okay. Let’s start with talking.”
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You spend the next few hours sitting on that bench, talking about everything. The doubts, the fears, the future. It’s raw and emotional, but it’s also healing. By the end of it, you both feel a bit lighter.
When you finally stand up, Chan reaches for your hand. “So, about that wedding...”
You give him a small smile. “Let’s take it one day at a time. We’ll get there when we’re both ready.”
And for the first time since you found that note, you believe it.
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© deerlino (est. 110624) ༯ heyo, did you enjoy this piece? if you did, maybe you could reblog, drop a comment, or shoot me an ask to let me know your thoughts. also, feel free to check out my other stuff! thanks a bunch for the support! <3
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creadigol · 10 hours
Note
Can you continue hero x villain teacher hero?
Thank you so much for the request! This is actually one of my favorite prompts and it was one of my first writing prompt ideas ever, years back before I even had a Tumblr. Due to my love of this one, it kinda got away from me and I wrote a lot. Like a lot. Lol.
I hope y’all enjoy! 
Part 1 and Part 2 here! 
Hero’s very shitty day was taking a turn for the better. 
This morning Hero had woken quite late (due to the extended hero-ing from last night), skipped breakfast, tripped on the curb, spilled their cold coffee, lost their parking space to a visiting mother, and almost got disciplinary action for arriving three minutes past their classroom attendance slot. 
After hearing the ‘ooohs’ and ‘ahhhs’ of various fourth graders, all of whom watched the principal reem Hero out in the hallway; Hero had finally obtained a sense of control over the class just after lunch. Of course that was after one of the kids had accidentally spilled finger paint on Hero’s chair and didn’t feel the need to tell them until Hero found themselves with a neon pink ass. 
As it was, just after lunch was their history time and Hero, not feeling too great about standing in front of the kids looking this disheveled; nor wanting to show off the new color of their pants, simply opted to play two episodes of Liberty’s Kids while the students sat on the carpet. The ploy seemed to work as not one student strayed from the carpet or asked to go to the bathroom. Hero stayed at the classroom sink, located just behind their desk, and tried to clean themselves as much as possible with the children distracted. 
Hero couldn’t help themselves from laughing along with the kids as the characters in the show told jokes and got into trouble while learning about the creation of The United States. Hero had forgotten how enjoyable the PBS show was and felt very nostalgic as they remembered the show premiering back when they were a child. Some things never age, Hero thought. 
So, all in all, the shitty day was getting better. Perhaps after the show Hero would give the kids a break from memorizing the different kinds of rocks and do a fun science experiment instead. With Hero’s powers they were sure they could make the demonstration look very cool without outing themselves as a super. Maybe they could win back their ‘awesome teacher’ status in the eyes of the kids after it had taken such a hit this morning. 
“Not exactly in style, but I must admit you wear it well.” Hero jumped and turned. How had they not heard someone come in? 
“I’m sorry?” Hero addressed the unknown adult. They turned from the sink, suddenly very aware that they had been wiping their backside with a wet paper towel. Pink was on their hands and now the floor at the attempt…not to mention still on their ass. 
Hero very nearly froze at the sight of the intimidating man. If not for their hero training they surely would have. 
He was tall, tall and brawny, but not in the typical sort of way. The muscle in his physique was evident underneath the expensive Italian silk suit; but there was also a leanness to it, like a coiled spring that spoke of agility and readiness. Hero wasn’t sure why, but they instantly felt off kilter, instantly felt tense, like when they are about to face off against a criminal or a villain. 
“Your ah…” the man smirked and chuckled, “choice of presentation…or should I say style, on your…well…” 
“Oh,” Hero noted the visitors-pass around the man's neck and felt a little of the apprehension fade. Perhaps they were just on edge due to the circumstances the man saw them in. “Not exactly my choice. This is courtesy of a young aspiring artist. She’s just too young to  know where her canvas is.” 
The man laughed jovially, “What a kind way of putting it!”
Hero heard some of the children snicker to themselves from over on the carpet, evidently finding the new stranger and their painted teacher much more interesting than the Revolutionary War. Hero tilted to one side so as to see past the newcomer and give their students ‘the look’.
“Pay attention please,” Hero chided. “You never know…I may be inclined to give you a quiz on this at the end of the day.” 
A series of ‘awwwws’ followed their remark. 
“But if you pay attention now, I might be in too good of a mood to write a quiz…”
All the kids turned back to the television with such force Hero was surprised there was no neck damage. All except for one. 
“Daddy!” 
Oh god. 
“Why hello Maria,” the man stooped down and scooped up the child who had run over from her place on the carpet. He hugged her and then placed her back down. Her stature only reached just past his waste. 
Hero felt their blood go cold. 
Daddy…Maria…
Maria, the student who was first in their class in everything but English…Maria, the student who all the other students named most popular…Maria, the student who aspired to be a veterinarian one day because she loved the class rabbit so much…Maria, the student Villain was most concerned about…
Maria, the student who was the daughter of Supervillain. 
Shit. 
“Are you here to talk to Teacher?” She asked sweetly, her gaze never leaving her father. 
The man nodded, “I am, so you best be a good girl and go back to watching what Teacher has put on.” 
She scrunched her face up in a pout, “But you’re going to talk about me.” 
He nodded as if it made no difference, “I am.” 
“So you’re not supposed to talk about people when they aren't there.” She crossed her arms and gave him a look of determination. 
The man, no Supervillain, laughed. “Is that so?”
She nodded sagely, “Yes. Teacher said so.” 
Supervillain fixed his gaze on Hero. Hero clenched at the sopping, paint dripping paper towel in their hand. 
They knew this day would come. Of course they did. But they had somehow hoped it wouldn’t. Hero was under the impression that Supervillain was not that active in his child’s life. Parent-teacher conferences had always been with Maria’s mother, who had stated that she was happily divorced, and all open houses and concerts had been devoid of Maria’s father ever since she had enrolled at the school. 
When Villain had brought up who Maria was, Hero had already known. After all, they were well connected in the hero world. 
It wasn’t that Hero purposely got Maria in their class, in fact it was the opposite. Hero tried to keep their two lives as separate as possible, but that was just how the dice fell. Hero didn’t get to choose who was in their class and Maria had been assigned to them. 
It was how Villain had found out their secret identity in the first place, their research into Supervillian’s private life had led them straight to Hero. 
Hero had said it was a small world.
Villain had said they best be careful. 
“Really? Well, I guess you better leave me and Teacher alone so they can teach me lessons like that.” Supervillain smiled at Hero. 
Maria was not deterred. 
“No, you just want to talk about my report card. But you can’t, because it’s not parent teacher day.”
Supervillain laughed again and ruffled her hair. “Not all parents need to wait for parent teacher day to talk about their children. It’s a parent’s right to bring up concerns to their children’s teachers, isn’t that right Teacher?” 
Hero gave a hesitant smile, “Yes, of course it is. Though most call first.”
Hero looked down at Maria, “You go back to the show, Maria, Benjamin Franklin’s about to speak to the French Parliament. I know how much you like him. ” 
She looked at Hero with suspicion, though with a hint of apprehension at the idea of missing anything involving Benjamin Franklin. 
Hero smiled warmly at her, “You won’t understand the book I’m loaning you if you don’t know what he did in France for the revolution.” 
Maria’s eyes lit up, “I can take your book home?” 
Hero nodded, “But only if you promise to take care of it for me. Now off you go.” 
“I will!”
She turned to her father and gave him a quick hug before hurrying back to her spot on the rug. Hero almost laughed when they saw her place her head on her fists in an effort to concentrate more on the words Benjamin Franklin was speaking. 
“Nicely done. Though I can’t say I condone bribery,” Supervillain crossed his arms, but still held the smile from before. 
“Well, at least it’s enriching bribery. I told her two weeks ago I had a book at home about Benjamin Franklin and she’s been after it ever since. I guess now I’ll have to bring it in.” Hero found themselves slipping into their normal Teacher to parent tone, though they were sure the tension in their shoulders was noticeable. 
“We’ll make sure to get it back to you just as it was,” Supervillain leaned on the desk and looked down at Hero in a conspiratorial way. Hero tried not to think about how Supervillain was taller than them even while leaning. “Now about Maria’s last report card…”
“Mr….” Hero cut them off.
“Escole,” Supervillain filled in easily, though his eyes rose. “Maria has my last name.” 
“Mr. Escole,” Hero hoped their voice held more bravery than they felt. “I didn’t want to say this in front of your daughter, but this is rather unorthodox. If you wanted to speak about her grades you could have made an appointment for later in the evening or perhaps during their lunch time…”
“Yes, yes,” Supervillain waved them off, “I meant to stop in during lunch but work got ahead of me. I’m sure you know how it is…” Supervillain gave them an up-down, no doubt seeing the old coffee spill mixed with paint and the tear in Hero’s pant leg from when they tripped earlier. “Some days are just chaotic.” 
“I know but…” Hero stopped at Supervillain’s raised hand.
“My darling Maria is too precious to be put on the wayside because of work, don’t you agree?” 
“Of course, but as I said…” In an instant Supervillain was in their face. Their tall body leaned over the desk as though there was no barrier between them. 
“I am a very busy man Teacher, so I’ll get right to the point. I don’t make appointments, people make them with me. When it comes to my daughter, I honestly don’t care whether you’re on lunch or in the middle of a lecture, I’ll be here and when I’m here we will talk. And when we talk, I expect you to listen and do what I want. Is that clear?” 
By the time Supervillain was done, not only was he only an inch away from Hero’s face, but his hand had found its way to Hero’s arm. The grip was tight and bruising, making Hero’s hand that held the pink paper towel shake. 
Every part of Hero wanted to fight, to get themselves out of Supervillain’s hands, but a stronger part of them was hyper aware of the children. They couldn’t fight here. They couldn’t do anything to endanger the children. 
“What do you want to talk about Mr. Escole?” Hero asked in a shaking whisper. 
Supervillain smiled, “Maria was right. You are smart.” 
Supervillain lounged on the desk and pulled on Hero’s arm to bring them down closer. “That new repairman that’s been hanging around…what’s their name?” 
Hero looked them in the eyes with confusion, though in their mind they started panicking. 
Good god, did he know about Villain? 
“I thought you wanted to talk about Maria’s English grade?” Hero spoke. 
“I know you’ll do what you need to with that. I’m not concerned about her grades. What I am concerned with is her account of her teacher being buddy-buddy with a new repairman. One that seems to do the majority of their work only in this classroom.” Supervillain narrowed their eyes at Hero’s large ones. 
“I don’t know what you mean…” Hero stumbled when a hand gripped their throat. Not tight, but plenty threatening. They hoped to god that the children were absorbed in the show. 
“Are you saying my daughter is a liar? That there is no repairman? Now, now Teacher, remember what Maria said? Can’t be talking about her while she’s not here.” 
“I,” Hero breathed raggedly. They couldn’t let this escalate with the children so close. “Every school has repairmen. I…I don’t know what you want.” 
Supervillain squeezed a bit tighter as he stared directly into Hero’s eyes. It took all of their willpower not to look away. What if Supervillain recognized them? They used to think their costume was foolproof, but after Villain had figured it out…now Hero wasn’t so sure. 
“Are all repairmen so attentive?” 
“I don’t know. They come and do their job.” I’m more focused on the kids, Hero almost said, but stopped. They didn’t want Supervillains attention turning the children right at this moment. 
“Nothing out of the ordinary?” Supervillain’s grip on their arm was so tight it felt like it was going to break. Hero suppressed their whimper.
“Not that I’ve seen.” They shook. 
“Then why are they here so often?” 
Hero blinked away tears of pain. “The classroom was in disrepair. It has been for a while. I thought we finally had the funds to fix everything,” They lied. 
“Why no funds?” Supervillain tilted his head. 
 Hero brought their hand up to grip Supervillain’s wrist by their neck when it got tighter. It only made Supervillain shake them. 
“Why no funds?” He asked again.
“I…I’m not sure,” Hero wheezed. “I think the city cut the money during the recession.” 
The hand got tighter. Hero started to see spots. Oh god, did Supervillain see right through them? 
Hero was pulled so close that they were nose to nose with Supervillain. Hero could smell his breath and feel every puff of air that came from his nose. The way Supervillain had positioned himself perfectly blocked what was happening from the children. At least there was that. 
“I want that repairmen gone. Immediately.” He paused, his gaze unwavering, “I expect you not to tell anyone of this encounter. If you do…well Maria will be upset, but there are always other teachers. She’ll get over it.”
Supervillain unceremoniously pushed Hero away. Hero collided onto their wooden swivel chair making the whole thing topple backwards. The crash called attention from all the children. 
“Teacher!”
“Oh no!”
“Teacher are you okay?” 
“What happened Teacher?” 
Supervillain gave a fake look of shock and placed their hand over their heart. “Oh my! Kids, it seems Teacher slipped and fell. Better make sure they’re alright.” 
It was through a throng of worried children that Hero saw Supervillain slip out of the room with a pat of goodbye to his daughter. 
Hero assured the kids that they were okay, just a few bruises. 
“That’s why we never leave water on the floor,” Hero said with a smile. “It was my own doing.” 
All the students laughed at Hero’s rare klutzy moment and were more than delighted when Hero told them they could eat snacks and watch Liberty’s Kids for the rest of the day, no quiz required. 
Once they were settled once again, Hero put their head down on the desk and tried to slow their breathing. 
They had only just got their heart-beat back down when they heard one of the kids approach their desk talking. 
“Teacher slipped and fell. It was after the mean man whispered at them. Now Teacher doesn’t feel so good.” 
“Mean man?” Asked another voice. 
Shit. Not now! Why are they here now? They already practically fixed everything in the school. 
“It was Maria’s dad, but we all call him the mean-man because he didn’t help Teacher up when they fell down.”  
“Maria’s dad?” The shuffling stopped at Hero’s desk. “And Teacher fell after they talked?” 
“Uh-huh.” 
“Well, you better get back to the show. I think Washington’s about to cross the Delaware. Don’t worry, I’ll check on Teacher.” 
“Okay! Thanks Repairman!”
There was silence. Hero could feel Villain’s eyes staring into as they kept their head down on the desk. 
“Hero,” Villain whispered. “What happened?” 
At first Hero said nothing, then, 
“Are any of the kids around?” Came Hero’s muffle reply. 
“Nope, they’re all eating cookies on the rug.” Hero felt the air change as Villain bent down closer. Unlike with Supervillain, Hero didn’t feel threatened at all. “Why?” 
“I don’t want them to see. It’s sure to have set in now.” 
Villain placed a hand on Hero’s shoulder, “What’s set in?” Hero could hear the urgency in their voice. “Phillip said Maria’s dad was here…”
“Supervillain was here.” Hero confirmed. “And,” Hero lifted their head. Villain sucked in a breath as they saw the dark bruising along Hero’s neck and the mark on their forehead from when they hit the ground. “We had a talk.” 
“I’m going to kill him.” 
@crow-with-a-typewriter @stevihj @waterflower20
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yandere-sins · 3 days
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this really is just me sort of ranting, feel free to ignore it. on your compliant darling thing, yeah. that’s like if you watched a horror movie and no one was scared, i feel like it defeats the whole purpose of the genre. and like you said, there’s many ways to get a darling to submit that are frankly a lot more fun to read about. sorry you keep getting those asks, but, as you said, just delete them and come right back around to posting your amazing work. personally, and this is unrelated, something that drives me to ‘hate’ yans (so to speak) is that overbearing aspect. it’s not just, “i’m gonna get you whatever you want and love you forever” because then that’s just a regular guy, and, like… okay? i love feeling really frustrated, feel like it’s a way to get my anger out. like, wow, you know my favourite shit but you won’t let me see my fucking mother i’m gonna kick and scream and just be absolutely feral. honestly sometimes your writing gives me a visceral reaction like that and then after thrashing around in anger on my bed i can sleep well. i swear i’m normal, though.
That's actually a good comparison with the horror movies!
I personally like the fear that comes from not knowing what their love is doing to their brain. Like, some yandere might break their own bones in an attempt to restrain themselves, others are so overcome that they can't help (wanting to) devour you. I like it when their next moves are unpredictable!
Either way, thank you for reaching out, I was just ranting yesterday because the requests caught me on a had a bad day. I am glad my writing is able to stir you! That's a big compliment ^-^ Hope you get to enjoy it more in the future!
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You definitely don't have to worry about the sort I'm complaining about, the "everything the yan does is a-okay for me!" kinda darling! I also like the guilt tripping of some yans who are just so desperate for you to stay with them, even if they have to tell you a lie the thoughts behind what they are doing! :D
Thank you for reading my stories ♥ And yeah, fuck compliant darlings and Oikawa!!!
21 notes · View notes
oh-shtars · 2 days
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RFTS!AU AskBox #4
Me to @signed-sapphire for the legendary number of 50 Questions Galore they sent me:
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Heads up though, you might notice there’s certain questions skipped. I’m either not able to answer some of the asks at all OR they’re either some art requests that I haven’t finished and will post in future posts. So I had to skip them for this post unfortunately…. I apologise as such. 😅
Anyways, let’s get speeding through them shall we?
1. How do you plan to show the songs?
It should be question 6 of this post here. :)
……
2. How many songs do you plan to have in RFTS?
4 or more. Depends on what I come up with.
……..
3. What ‘vibe’ would each song have?
Uhhhhhhh, idk tbh. I’m really just going with the flow of what this story brings me. You can’t wait to see what the RFTS!plot has in store? Yeah, me too.
……..
4. Who’s voicing Valentino and the main cast?
For Valentino, I’m not sure. I’m debating whether it should be younger Bambi or Ronno’s VA. But he basically has an actual kid’s voice this time rather than a deep-sounding one. (Because honestly, I found that a bit weird personally). For the the other characters, I don’t really mind the voices they have canonically.
And I think I’ve mentioned this before, but even though Sueño can’t speak, I could hear him singing this in this voice hypothetically.
………..
5. Write or draw any cute interaction between Ashueño!
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Mk :3
………
6. I know Asha will have a different outfit by the end, but do you have different designs for anyone else?
Yeah, I do actually. Some characters have a different outfit to better reflect their current context. (Like how Sakina would have work clothes similar to Asha.) But I don’t want to reveal most of them at the moment since I would like to keep them a secret for now.
……
7. Some Gabo doodles, if you don’t mind. I rarely see the short king in any Wish Art.
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Fiiiiine.
His design makes a lot more sense if you were me and you knew the context. Take this art with whatever theories you guys can throw at me 😂
……. 10. What made Amaya fall in love with Magnifico? What changed?
Amaya had a family who greatly discouraged her interest in studying magic and potions since it’s against what their family has done for generations. Meanwhile, Magnifico who was adopted as Rosas’ prince, is expected to learn magic but COULDN’T because he struggles to do so since he hasn’t moved on from his trauma.
When these guys were around 16-15 years old, they were mutual best friends. Mag offers Amaya to read from his magic books while he finds comfort in just having a genuine friend who doesn’t remind or push expectations onto him that he hears everyday in the castle. She’s like an escape from the stresses he has in there.
In their future years, Amaya grew to fall in love with someone who promised her the world if she only asked for it. She finds bits of herself in Mag, as both were people with crushed dreams that deserve better. (In their POV anyway.)
Falling in love was not at all what she expected since she used to believe sympathy would only hold her back from exploring the limits of magic. But you know, Amaya’s as much as a tragic character as Magnifico is.
…….
11. Who fell first and who fell harder between those two?
Is it possible to say that RFTS!Magnifico is both?
……..
12. Any fun fact about the Royal Couple? (You can tell who I’m most invested in. lol.)
The only reason Espino, the royal cat, is in the castle is because Amaya wanted him around. Otherwise, if it were up to Mag, that cat is out to the streets. He’s not very fond of animals and he considers them as pests. Though, Espino gets small bonus points from Magnifico just because he keeps the castle clear from mice which he especially hates.
(Good to know you’re enjoying ‘Grand Despair’ while it lasts :)
……
13. This may be weird but…Body Swap! How would Hopes and Dreams react?
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Asha would have zero idea how to get star magic under control. Meanwhile, Sueño finds an interesting realisation.
……..
14. What’s your favourite fanart piece of your AU?
I LOVE all of them so much!! They’re all made by very amazing artists!! I’m so happy to see these silly characters I’ve made be brought to life in someone else’s style. 💖💖
Mere words can’t express this joy enough. I hope you all would love the final chapters once they do come out as much as you loved seeing content of them now. X3
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……..
15. Are you telling your story via writing or art of word dump?
I’m planning to share it in chapters like how Anny and everyone else has been doing. Plus some more sketches I would keep making of them obviously.
………
17. Draw Ashueño dressed as another Disney couple!
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Hehehehehe guess whooo~ 🙃
………
19. Young!Sueño!
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Which one? 🙃
Awww, good times back then when the little guy is still figuring out the forms he likes….
…… 20. Young!Royal Couple!
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Mini Magnifico would rather drown himself or drink snake venom than call Oliver his dad- ………
22. Give some more lore on Asha’s father. Are you keeping him as close to the source material as possible? Will we see him in flashbacks or something?
You’ll definitely get to see Tomás at certain points in the story. Either in the short prologue, mentions and flashbacks. He’s generally a friendly guy but at the same time, is also assertive to defend what he thinks is wrong. But even though his life was cut short, Tomás ended up inspiring more people than he thinks. Especially his old friend, Sabino, who hasn’t given another wish or attended any more wish ceremonies after his death.
I don’t think we really knew much about Asha’s father at all in the canon movie, but I’ll pretty much be close to what is depicted there already with some more detail on how he made an influence in the lives of those he loves.
………
23. Give Sueño a stuffed toy for him to cuddle with. He deserves it <3
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He adores it so much 💖💖
……….
24. More lore about the Astral Realm!
Not all Wishing Stars have the strong desire to venture down into the human realm someday and that’s completely fine. They can still guide their wishmaker from above. But for those who do want to, they need to answer one important question first:
“Why do you grant wishes?”
Since they would be going down to earth by themselves ALONE with none of their elders to guide them this time, their answer to this question serves as their anchor in case they get lost or distracted. Answers do vary and some may be the same among stars, but that’s fine. As long as they’re sincere with all their core on their answer. Some examples may be: “I like to see them reach their very best and reap their deserved rewards.” Or “I like watching them journey and discover themselves.”
……….
25. SNEAK PEAKS!!
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This scene is one of my dotpoints I came up with but I’m not so sure anymore if that would still fit in and whether I should scrap it. Regardless, I thought this would be a nice little thing to show you all. Proof that I’m indeed working on it 😅
(Actually, this sounds so cute to draw. Feel welcome to try and do so if you want to, my fellow artists ^^)
…… 26. How does Magnifico’s magic work?
I made a whole post on this :3
………
27. Where did Amaya learn potions?
She’s self-taught mostly. But I also did mention that Mag generously lets her borrow what is meant to be his books of magic soooo, he played a role on that as well.
……
29. What’s Amaya’s opinion on the other Wish AU Mags?
I’m not exactly sure how different her opinions would be on each of them since I think we all decided to have our fun with Magnifico just being a shameless show-off and fun evil villain. I’ll try though.
Amaya would think KOW!Mag reminds her a lot of her own husband, also short-tempered and a disgustingly sweet romantic at times. She’s kind of a play-hard-to-get girl though 😂. One thing she does notice is that what WRTS!, Wish Granted! And KOW!Mag have in common is how loud they are with their ceremonies. Is that a universal Magnifico thing? Eh. There sure is a lot of interesting knowledge to learn from these universes. Hmmm.
TKoRaT!Maggy has that same pained look that falls on RFTS!Mag whenever he’s sulking by himself and needs time alone. Usually it’s because of his old village trauma. It’s an intriguing but ever so familiar cycle she recognises well.
Meanwhile. TFS!Mag is……different, she would say. Not exactly good different. I kinda imagine her eyeing this guy like a cat. This Mag just gives off a very different vibe of non-ruthlessness(?) that she’s not used to.
……..
30. Same for Mag, but vice versa.
RFTS!Mag gets very very very familiar vibes with KOW! And Wish Granted!Amaya. He finds it slightly amusing since it feels like his wife just became a part of some triplets. (He jokingly asked RFTS!Amaya if she had any sisters she never told him. The woman wasn’t amused. She doesn’t really like being reminded of her family.) I’m sorry TKoRaT! And TFS!Amaya, but you’ve made the decision to adopt Asha as your daughter and so he thinks lower of you now. Although…the TKoRaT!couple might just get to redeem themselves for that since they sound interesting enough. They’re going to have the ditch the girl though at some point.
WRTS!Amaya just feels off. He doesn’t know what exactly though? Is he losing his mind or something? Ugh, I think he could use devouring another Wish Bubble just in case…
……..
31. You know what, for Asha and Sueño too!
Oh boy, here we go. 😂
Asha will NOT be able to handle Wish Granted!Star’s energy. It’s so different from the silent but still lively conversations she has with her Starboy. Star just can’t bring himself to stop talking, can he? 😅 Asha thinks WRTS!Aster and TKoRaT!Star are adorable. Cielo may be a bit much at times with his light teasing and flirting, but she’s aware he means well.
I could see Asha’s non-hesitant empathy, patience and genuine concern to Haedus would be a huge comfort for the poor guy. (Trust me, she’s done this plenty before.) She’s a bit surprised to see Naos and Nembus but I think they’d get along just fine. She’s pretty good with playing with kids from her experience with a mischievous Valentino. And lastly, KOW!Aster is a total sweetheart that she jokingly comments could rival Sueño’s. (That comment caught Sueño’s attention quickly lmao.)
MEANWHILE:
Sueño is more hesitant and unwilling at first to approach humans by his own accord. He’ll still keep a short distance buuuut… if they’re just another version of Asha, it can’t be that horrible, right?
KOW!Asha’s drawings are a familiar sight for him and he’s impressed that she could bring her own drawings to life. Same goes for WRTS!Asha with her magic wand. Maybe they’re friendly… Maybe they could both do that together :D He’s neutral with Wish Granted! And Aled’s Asha for now until he gets to know them better.
Sueño recognises that same shyness and timid nature in TKoRaT!Asha. (It’s weird how she does the same thing RFTS!Asha does of turning their head away and hiding behind their hair when he innocently just looks her way.)
And then there’s…….HER. TFS!Asha. Cielo talks about her a lot….😬. But you know, that girl scares him.
Unfortunately, Sueño is staying a relatively farther distance away from the last two Ashas I mentioned. Why? Idk, probably the fact that they’re the daughter of Mag and Amaya-
……….
32. *Gives Sueño an iPad with Duolingo on it* Here my child. Learn Spanish.
I have a feeling you did this so he could finally find out what his name, ‘Sueño’ translates into. Lol, nope. Not yet he’s not.
He still appreciates the gesture though, but the guy got distracted by the other cool features and apps this weird magical mirror-tablet thing(?) had and completely forgot all about the Owl app.
……
33. Will Asha ever attempt to learn Celestial? Maybe with a candle? Like Morse Code? Idk.
Idk. Speaking Celestial is really just stars exchanging screechy sound waves to each other telepathically like words, while their glowing sequences indicates the mood and tone of what they’re saying. Maybe if Asha comes to learn how to harness light magic on her own, she’ll be able to at least convey emotions such as happiness in it by controlling the brightness and duration of each flash.
…….
35. How are you planning out your story?
I usually think of what main message I’m trying to get across first and build the story around it. After some character and world-building stuff (that I keep adding to because procrastination), I put the key scenes I could think of in bullet-point format and then just think up some in-between scenes that could occur between those points.
Usually though, the most usual process is that a random concept/idea pops into my head and then I immediately type it down so I won’t forget it. It’s basically my thing now to organise the giant mess of reminders into comprehensive plot lines.
I’m not writing the story at this point. The story is choosing to expose itself to me XD
Another main thing I do is listen to my Spotify playlist of this AU, read the Wish Artbook, or rewatch a movie that has inspired the RFTS! plot in some way.
……..
36. Are there any kisses in your story?
Hmmmmm….. *glances at Ashueño and Amnifico*
Oh well, since you’ve asked me, I gueeeeess I’m unfortunately now going to have to remove all the kisses I had included since y’all are so desperate to know….. (/jk)
……..
38. Will the Royal Couple have villain transformations?
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………..
39. What’s your take on the ‘eating wishes’ thing?
As I’ve mentioned in my last post on how the magic system works in the RFTS!AU, Magnifico eats wish essence to reverse the costly effects of using Curse Magic. To put it simply, he uses them to make him more mentally stable.
.,,,,,,,,
40. What Easter Eggs are you planning to put in your story?
Awwwww, where’s the fun in that? Find them yourselves >:)))
And who knows? Maybe certain fellow creators in the Wish Rewrite Fandom will make a reference in some of the chapters. Keep an eye out 😉
……..
42. What exactly does Asha’s job entail?
Being a king’s apprentice is a way to gain experience and learn how to use magic by the king himself, so you could use the attained knowledge as to however you want. Share the talent with Rosas or Go out into the world.
However, when Magnifico’s reign started, he forbade magic usage other than he and his wife with the claim that it’s for the greater good and safety for Rosas. (He kinda had a point since criminal activity and accidents did decrease in number after that rule.)
Since Mag doesn’t really need an apprentice, Asha is more of an assistant now, following in her dad’s footsteps before her. She’s tasked to do help with whatever Mag might need around his study such as keep the fire going or organise his papers. But Mag doesn’t really like having her around a lot, (since she asks a lot of questions about his wish-keeping system) so he purposefully tells her to go carry out outside tasks such as go into the garden and help the gardeners or something.
……..
43. Did Magnifico make Sueño’s bonds?
If I told you, would that make you more blood-thirsty enough to gather pitchforks and torches for his head? Because if you are, please don’t. I still need this guy to stir up conflict in my story :((
(You can have him all you want though once I’m done with him. Lmao.)
………
44. How was Rosas founded?
Nearly a century ago, the kingdom was first built. I’ve read in the Art book that Rosas was apparently named to reference ‘Beauty and the Beast.’
Like, ok….?
Anyways, I found that roses are meant to represent love, rebirth and beauty. So I decided to add more onto that than just have it as another reference. The kingdom’s founders wanted Rosas to be a place where people who are wary and feel outcasted by their homes can find and start a new beginning. To ‘Rebirth’ and have a second chance to find the ‘beauty and love’ in their lives again,
Blue and white were made the royal colours because the blue was meant to stand for trust and reliability and white for new beginnings. Symbolising the past kings and queens’ responsibility to have their talents in sorcery be used to serve the people who come here. Thus, Rosas’ citizens all are in a variety of different cultures.
……..
45. Over how many days does your story take?
I’m thinking within one month. It’s a race-against-time sort of thing where Asha needs to find out how to confront the Royal Couple before they do something horrible on Rosas’ celebration of its 100th anniversary, which is literally just a month away.
…….
46. What was your favourite part of Wish? Are you translating that to your AU?
I really really loved how Mag’s magic looked and how he went all evil-ish green as a tribute to past Disney villains. If we ignore the awkward transition he had from sympathetic to just plain psychotic, it’s a cool magic display. I kinda wished they went more full out on the final battle because it just felt so underwhelming asf.
I’m keeping the magical final battle but with more magical funsies. :D
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…….
47. Least favourite part?
I’m frustrated how bland and empty the character interactions and emotional beats are since those kinds of moments are usually my favourite when it comes to movies.
Magnifico’s tragic loss of his village? “Pfft- What tragedy? We don’t need that in the movie’s 2nd half.”
Asha’s dead father? “Eh. We only needed him for a few mins and he’s non-existent from that point on.”
Valentino claims to be Asha’s helpful animal sidekick. “Did I mention I have a deep voice? Oh, and my butt’s a funny thing too. Did I already mention that my voice is loud and soooo deep??”
Simon’s betrayal? “Oh wow, that was a shock…. Anyways, wanna start a rebellion?”
OMG, Sakina’s wish is back!! “What was the wish about? Idk who cares.”
Asha’s friendship with Star doesn’t even feel that special to me?? GUYS, I felt more chemistry between Rapunzel and Pascal. COME ON, BUILD IT UP. DON’T JUST SAY ‘Awww, you and I are thinking the same thing~’ AND EXPECT ME TO BUY THAT.
……….
48. What’s your favourite aspect of the TFS!AU?
Idk why, but I like how there’s a unique twist in your AU on how Wishing Stars don’t have the best reputation to humans. It’s a nice subversion that makes it stand out a little more. :)) Because usually, the idea of wishing on stars is always seen as a positive thing but that’s not the case in this story. It’s intriguing to watch characters slowly realise that not everything is what it seems.
That, and the hilarious dynamic you’ve got going on between Cielo and Asha and how deep in denial they both are, even though it’s clear as day to the other TFS!cast. 😂
(Wouldn’t it be funny if TFS!Mag and Amaya also noticed? They may be going down a dark path but they’re not blind, girl.)
……..
50. What’s a boring fact about you?
Uhhhhhh…. I like organising stuff by colour for fun...? Like, I used to pour out a box of legos and sort through them as a kind of pastime. I still organise coloured pencils in rainbow order if I could too. 😅 ………
@annymation @uva124 @your-ne1ghbor @ficsinhistory @rascalentertainments @gracebethartacc @spectator-zee
It’s a long read, but I think you guys would enjoy going through it regardless. I hope so anyways.
Btw, thx for all the fun questions Bo! 💖 Might post some more regarding your other doodle requests that I’ve put to the side for now if you don’t mind. :))
20 notes · View notes
hoshiina · 4 days
Text
pairing: hoshina soushirou x gn!reader (no prns)
request: can i pretty please request a drabble where gen has a sibling and that said sibling and hoshina are dating? even better if gen's sibling is an officer/troop leader in the first division and partakes in the rivalry between the third and first division but outside of everyone's view— gen's sibling and hoshina are terribly lovey dovey!
warnings: none I believe!
wc: 1200
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This was not something that started today. Rather, it had been this way for as long as anyone could remember.
From the moment you had joined the 1st Division, you had always been bickering with Hoshina— just like your brother. It was plain as day you were none other than the younger sibling of Narumi Gen. Although you lacked the power and passion for fame that Gen had, you weren't any less competitive than him.
However, unlike your brother, you were better at neutralizing smaller size Kaiju than him— naturally making you more competitive with Hoshina. While you were incredible at what you did, you seemed to fall just a step behind of Hoshina most of the time. You were insanely good, but Hoshina was just a little better. You had beaten him just once in the neutralization test of smaller sized kaiju, and you just couldn't seem to do it again.
This was well known among most of the first and third division, and they did enjoy your playful banter that arose even in the toughest of times. It wasn't always easy to keep the mood bright when things got difficult, but the two of you would never fail to do so. They hoped this would never change and your rivalry would never fade.
However, there were things that had changed that no one really knew of. The two of you had started dating a year ago, and you were madly in love. It was your little secret. Well, your little secret that Gen accidentally found out about.
Neither of you had told Gen about this and quite frankly, the two of you were planning to keep hiding this from him if it were possible. It wasn't new that he despised Hoshina quite a bit, and he was extremely weary of the people you meet, especially men. Naturally, to find out that Hoshina was your boyfriend wouldn't exactly be celebratory news for him. Not to mention that Gen was loud when he had complaints. You knew he absolutely would not shut up about it. So it really wasn't the plan when he had found out.
You were in your room lazing around in a baggy shirt, specifically Hoshina’s shirt, which covered your short-shorts while Hoshina was in your kitchen cooking something quick. Until you got a shared place, this happened rather often. It was either him in your room or yourself in his room. However, a lot of your stuff had found a place in his unit and vice versa, so it was very easy for you to visit each other whenever. A little too easy, perhaps.
“Hoshina, you don't have to make anything fancy,” you said. “Anything’s fine. You had a long day too.”
“I'm literally making us ochazuke. It couldn't be easier—” he was starting to say when the door swung open.
“Guess who's here!” Gen had yelled while walking into your place.
Immediately you looked back at Hoshina in the kitchen and gave up. “Oh gosh,” you said.
“What did I say about ringing the doorbell?!” you yelled back at him.
“And what did I say about locking the door?!” he exclaimed back.
“I thought I did—” you started to yell, but then you remembered you had forgotten to lock the door after Hoshina came in, hands full of groceries to stuff your empty fridge. You were a little too thrilled to see him. “My bad.”
You knew Hoshina was going to scold you later— he's been telling you to be more careful about locking up properly.
Gen saw the extra pair of shoes by your doorway and immediately met eyes with Hoshina in your kitchen.
“Why the hell are you here?!” he yelled.
“Oh, can you please be quiet,” you said. “He's visiting.”
“Why, hello! That would be me!” Hoshina said, greeting Gen properly now that it's come down to this.
“Why is he visiting you, in your room, alone, with you dressed like that?” Gen continued to ask. He wasn't understanding nor did it seem like he wanted to.
You let out a sigh, you didn't mean to, but there was no getting around this one. “What's wrong with having my boyfriend in my room,” you said.
“Your boyfriend? Hoshina?” Gen said, horrified. He didn't think matters could get worse, yet here he was. “Why him?”
“Oh, why not him?” you asked. “He's the best I could ever wish for.”
Hoshina didn’t expect that— especially not to your brother, just like that. His eyes widened as his heart tightened. Oh, how he absolutely adored you. You said it so naturally, as if merely stating a fact. To you, that really was all it was though.
Gen had a lot more to say and complain about while staying far too long, long enough to steal some ochazuke for dinner (which he also managed to complain about) before you were finally able to kick him out. Yet, through all of that, Hoshina couldn't be happier to be with you, bickering away as you ate a 5 minute meal at a small make-shift dining table.
As soon as Gen finally left, you spread your arms out in front of you, asking for a hug, which Hoshina promptly returned.
“He's finally gone…” you said, relieved it was finally just the two of you.
“Not sure he liked me much,” Hoshina said with a smile and you rolled your eyes.
“Like we didn't already know,” you said. “I really didn't plan for him to barge in like that.”
“I have to admit, I do enjoy watching you two bicker though. My brother and I are not nearly as close,” Hoshina said and you rolled your eyes again when he said ‘close’. You wouldn't ever explain your relationship as ‘close’. “However, you ought to make a habit of locking your door. What if that wasn't your brother and I wasn't here.”
“Yes,” you said, quietly but clearly— but avoiding eye contact. “I will.”
“Thank you for saying that earlier,” he said, turning your head to face his. “To this day I don't know what made you choose me.”
You immediately realized what he was talking about.
“Oh, please,” you said. “Be serious. I am the luckiest person alive by your side.”
He kissed you and you kissed back, but he truly wouldn't let you go. You started hitting his arm, hoping he would let go so you could catch your breath. After what felt like the longest moments ever he finally let you pull back, letting you breathe.
“Soushirou, I can't breathe!” you said, trying to sound irritated, but your tone lacked the edge you were hoping for.
He completely ignored you, however, and pulled you back into a tight embrace.
“I wish we could stay like this forever,” he said. “Just you and me.”
“In this small place?” you said, laughing a little.
“Absolutely wherever,” he said. “As long as you're here with me.”
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henwilsonmd · 1 year
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post 6x18: some out-of-order vignettes | ao3
4251 words
“Buck,” said Eddie, trying to school his face into something less fond and amused. “That’s my couch.”
Buck turned from where he’d been happily showing off the new piece of furniture he’d gotten with Natalia the day prior. “What?”
“The couch,” Eddie repeated, with a quirk of his eyebrow. “You bought my exact couch.”
“No,” Buck replied with a shake of his head. “No, it’s definitely different.”
read on ao3
Eddie looked at it—a three-seater in dark blue, velvet-y fabric with square corners and deep seats to accommodate his long legs. They’d picked out some nice white decorative pillows for it, and it’s certainly brand-new looking, but—
“It’s totally the same.” Eddie gave up on hiding his smile.
Buck looked back to the couch, tilting his head to scrutinize it. After a moment, he sighed, planting his hands on his hips. “Ah, fuck. It’s totally the same.”
Eddie groaned, letting his head thump back onto the edge of the cot behind him. “The pain meds are definitely kicking in.”
“Well, good,” snarked Buck from a chair next to him, attention half-focused on his phone in his hands. “That’s what they’re supposed to do.”
Eddie sighed, long-suffering. “You too?”
“Yes, Eddie, me too.” Buck replied, thumbs flying as he tapped out something on the screen in his hands. Probably to Maddie. Probably about Chim. Who was probably okay. “Your ribs are fucking broken.”
“Yeah,” Eddie said, staring at the ceiling. “And I know what they feel like. I’m fine, there was—other stuff going on.” He thought about that paramedic from the 133 shining a penlight into Hen’s eyes, frowning like he didn’t like the results and going back in to do it again. He thought about the constant jitter of Buck’s leg next to him, the constant worry for Bobby and Chimney who’d taken the other two ambulances before the three of them had managed to squeeze into another cab. “Besides,” Eddie pulled himself back on track. “Did you even get checked out?” He leveled Buck with a look that he hoped had more energy behind it than he had left.
Buck shrugged, powering off his phone with a click. “I’m fine.”
“There’s blood all over your face,” Eddie pointed out.
“Hen cleaned most of it up already.”
“There was more?”
“That’s—Eddie, I’m fine,” Buck said, turning towards him. “I scraped up my cheek and bit my tongue when I fell, and, sure, I’ll be a little bruised, but I’m fine.”
“You lost consciousness,” Eddie pointed out, and he swallowed around a dry throat.
“How… how did you know that?” Buck stuttered in reply.
Eddie gave his own shrug, picking at the edge of the right kneepad on his turnout pants. “I didn’t pass out. I radioed right after I’d gotten my bearings, but no one answered. Then, like, thirty seconds later you must have woken up.”
Buck, for a moment, held Eddie’s gaze with something so unbelievably devastated, and guilty—like the thought of not being able to answer Eddie’s call was the worst possible thing that had happened that day. Then he flicked his eyes down to the floor. “Okay, s-so, like, thirty seconds. I’m fine, Eddie. Really.”
Eddie frowned, thinking about those thirty seconds—an unbearable weight on his back, a growing pain in his chest, and the clawing panic as he listened to the silence stretching out on the other side of the radio and fought the mounting urge to plead, I’m still alive, please, I’m still alive down here.
And then how he’d breathed a hugely painful sigh of relief when Buck finally asked for a headcount, how he’d fumbled into his pocket for his St. Christopher medal and prayed—something he hadn’t done since that awful week of the coma. Prayed that he’d come home safe to his son, but also that Buck would be careful—that he wouldn’t do something stupid and destructive and reckless to save any of them.
That heady rush of gratitude when Buck had sawed the doors open, taking off his safety goggles and assessing Eddie’s situation with a calculating, heavy gaze.
Next to him, Buck cleared his throat, shifting in the chair. “Anyway, you broke three ribs, man. Let the meds do their job.”
Eddie huffed a laugh, leaning back into the pillows behind him. “Trust me, they are.”
Eddie sipped his Diet Coke, beer off-limits because he was still taking the Tylenol threes. “So, you finally got a new couch.”
“I had a couch before,” Buck pointed out, a matching soda in his hand for solidarity. “Kameron just—y’know, gave birth all over it.”
“Yeah,” Eddie said, snorting a soft laugh. “That must have been wild.”
Buck chuckled. “The baby didn’t want to wait, I guess.”
“Impatient little guy,” Eddie said. “Must be those Buckley genes.”
“Hey,” Buck protested, pointing a finger. “I can be plenty patient.”
“Sure,” Eddie agreed placatingly, but be noticed how there seemed to be something more behind the mirth in Buck’s eyes—the plastic pieces at the edges of his smile. He fought the urge to say I told you so—mostly because it would have been childish, but also because Buck hadn’t asked for his opinion at any step of the way, and Eddie hadn’t offered.
Eddie decided to wait him out—usually the best course of action when it came to Buck. Eddie understood intimately how much time it could take to parse through a mess of feelings in your brain and formulate them into words that would make sense to another person. Usually, Eddie would sit quietly and sip his beer while watching Buck’s feelings play out on his unguarded face, and after a minute or two Buck would haltingly begin to explain what had been going on with him.
Eddie had tried to explain that to Maddie when they’d both been nearly sick with worry over Buck’s post-coma mental state. “He’ll come to you when he’s ready,” Eddie had said over the phone. “You can’t force him to talk about it.”
“Eddie, you don’t know him like I do,” Maddie had protested. “He shouldn’t be alone right now.”
And Eddie had opened his mouth to say no, actually, I know him better than you, I know him better than anyone, but—that’s not true, is it? Why would Eddie know Buck better than his own sister, who’s spent the entire thirty years of his life caring for him, when Eddie’s only had him for—what, five years? Then subtract all the things they didn’t talk to each other about and all the issues they’ve had, and—yeah, who is Eddie to say what’s best for Buck?
And then Buck had knocked on his door and passed out on his couch and Eddie had felt righteously vindicated in a way that he almost wanted to rub in Maddie’s face, which was kind of bitchy of him to think.
So, Buck sipped his soda next to Eddie on his new couch, a storm of emotions clear on his face, and Eddie waited him out because that’s what he does.
Buck let out a sigh, and Eddie thought, here it is, he’ll let me in, and then— “Want to watch the Dodgers game?”
Eddie blinked. “Um, sure.”
And Buck turned on the TV.
Doubt roiled in Eddie’s gut.
“What about Hen?” Eddie asked, Buck’s hand tight on his arm as he helped him into the passenger seat of the Jeep.
“Karen already took her home, she’s fine,” Buck replied easily, before he shut the door and rounded the front of the car.
He’d left when Eddie had been taken back for x-rays, taking an Uber back to the station to pick up his car so he could come back to get Eddie and drive them both home. Eddie absently wondered when he would get a chance to get his truck from the station parking lot.
Buck hopped into the driver’s seat, fitting his keys in the ignition but pausing before turning the engine. He fixed Eddie with a gentle, reassuring look. “Seriously, man, everyone’s fine. Athena’s with Bobby, Maddie’s with Chim, let’s go home.”
Eddie swallowed, biting the inside of his cheek as he thought about just how close literally every single one of them except Ravi had come to something far more serious than some hospital bills and time off work.
His gaze slid to Buck, who flashed him that small, soft, close-mouthed smile that Eddie rarely saw—the one that made his chest feel warm and gooey.
“Okay. Let’s go home.”
The Dodgers were losing, and Buck wasn’t talking about it. Eddie tried not to either of those things get to him.
During a commercial break, Buck got up to throw their empty pizza boxes away, waving Eddie off as he moved to help.
When he came back into the living room, he paused under the overhang of the loft, just staring at Eddie.
“What?” he asked, a bit self-conscious.
Buck huffed a laugh, shaking his head. “I can’t believe I bought your couch.”
Eddie snorted. “Don’t worry about it, man. It’s flattering. You think I have good taste.”
Buck raised an eyebrow. “I don’t know if that’s it. Half the furniture in your house is from Target.”
Eddie sputtered. “I—what’s wrong with Target furniture?”
Buck, lowering himself back onto the cushions next to Eddie, raised his hands in a show of innocence. “Nothing, man. I just—I don’t know if I would call it good taste.”
Having no comeback, Eddie just whacked him in the shoulder.
Buck laughed, playfully pushing his hand away. “Hey, c’mon, don’t start shit when I can’t retaliate.”
Eddie smirked. “Why? ‘Cause you know you can’t take me?”
“No,” Buck denied. “’Cause your ribs are still fucking broken.”
Eddie rolled his eyes. “I’m fine, Buck.”
“Well.” Buck crossed his arms, turning back to the TV as the next inning started. “Forgive me for wanting to be careful.”
For a moment, Eddie considered saying hey, maybe we should talk about how I could’ve almost died again? But Buck clearly wasn’t in the mood to talk about the big things, and Eddie didn’t really want to think about that yet either, so he settled for bumping their shoulders together.
Buck leaned right back into him, and neither of them moved apart—the comforting warmth of the contact buzzing in Eddie’s brain like the alcohol he wasn’t drinking.
Eddie smiled down at his hands. “You like my couch,” he teased.
“Yeah, yeah,” Buck groused, slouching into the cushions as they watched a batter swing and miss yet again. “Don’t let it go to your head.”
“Are you sure you’re both alright?” Carla asked, a worried hand hovering over his elbow. “I caught some of the collapse on the news.”
Eddie flashed her a smile before turning to pour two glasses of water—one for him and one for Buck, who was off in Christopher’s room. “We’re okay,” he said. “A little banged up, but the doctors said I should be back to work in six weeks or less.”
Carla narrowed her eyes. “You better take that full six weeks.”
Eddie set the Brita down and met her gaze. “I’m fine, Carla. Really.”
She sighed, crossing her arms. “I just—I worry about you, Eddie. Okay? I know you’d rather I didn’t, but I can’t help it.”
Eddie ducked his head and smiled, a bit, filled with that familiar half-disbelief that people really do care about him. “I know it doesn’t look like it, but—I was lucky today. That nothing worse happened, that—that Buck was there to pull me out.”
Carla scoffed. “Of course he was. I don’t think luck had anything to do with that one.”
Eddie tried to fight the blush off his cheeks—he didn’t know what to do with that. Carla’s surety that Buck would save him come hell or high water. His own surety that Buck would be ripping open the doors of that camper van any second now.
When she realized he wasn’t going to say anything, Carla cleared her throat. “I should go. You up for a hug?”
“From you?” Eddie responded easily. “Always.”
Carla pulled him into a gentle-but-still-desperate embrace. “Okay, I’ll get out of your hair.” With a frown, she brought a hand up to ruffle the wilting mess on Eddie’s head. “Your dusty-ass hair. Take a shower, alright?”
Eddie laughed. “Alright, alright.”
“It’s a little early for a welcome back party, don’t you think?” Eddie said as Athena hugged him in greeting, Christopher heading off in search of the other kids.
“You and Bobby are headed back tomorrow,” Athena pointed out.
“Yeah, and Chimney’s not back for another two weeks.”
“And you best believe I’ll throw another party for him.”
Eddie laughed, before venturing further into the house to greet everyone else. His ribs had healed perfectly, barely a twinge when he’d thrown himself onto the couch in triumph yesterday. Which—speaking of, Eddie’s phone was burning a hole in his pocket and he was doing a very good job of ignoring that.
Or, he was, until a lull in conversation found him standing alone in the kitchen and pulling it out of his jeans. No texts. Which—of course, they’d agreed to go for coffee after his shift on Friday, why would she text him before that—but, still. Eddie was nervous. Sue him.
His thumbs hover over the keyboard for a moment while he debates if it’s too much of a desperate move to text Marisol before they even go on a date. Christopher would know.
“Who are you texting?” asked a voice, and Eddie fumbled to turn off his phone and shove it in his pocket before someone could see… what?
He looked up to see Buck smiling at his antics, a beer in hand.
“Oh, it’s you,” Eddie sighed, leaning against the counter.
Buck sidled over to join him, staring out the windows at the backyard where the party was in full swing. “Just me. Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”
“It’s fine,” Eddie replied, for some reason hoping desperately that Buck wouldn’t ask him about—
“So,” Buck nudged an elbow into his arm. “Who were you texting?”
—fuck. Eddie wasn’t sure why this felt like something he didn’t want to tell Buck, to whom he tells everything, but… they don’t really talk about their girlfriends? It was always, always awkward, and it always left him with a sour taste in his mouth.
But, Eddie’s excited about this. Marisol probably won’t be the one, or whatever, but—still. Eddie was excited that his brain was finally in a place where he could think about opening up his life to someone and it wouldn’t send him into a panic attack that landed him in the ER.
And Buck asked.
And Eddie’s not in the habit of saying no to him.
“Um,” he started. “Do you remember Marisol? From the—”
“—yeah, yeah!” Buck cut him off. “So, you were texting her?” He raised his eyebrows, a knowing glint in his gaze.
Eddie blushed. “Yeah, uh… we’re going on a date?” he said quietly, a pit of dread or something similar opening in his gut.
Buck was quiet for a moment, and Eddie risked a glance at his face. He just caught the edge of something shocked and maybe fearful in his expression before it cleared and was replaced by one of those huge, sunny smiles.
“Eddie!” Buck exclaimed. “That’s great! Oh my god, man, this is awesome,” he enthused, slinging an arm around Eddie’s shoulders and squeezing him close.
“Yeah,” Eddie chuckled, still unsure why part of him felt sick with guilt.
“Hey, ever notice how we always start dating at the same time?”
“No, do we?” Eddie lied, thinking about how he’d agonized over making the call and kept telling himself Buck’s with Natalia now, you should do this.
Buck laughed again, before he jolted with surprise and turned to Eddie, excitedly slapping him on the arm. “Dude! We can go on double dates now!”
Eddie frowned. “We didn’t last time.”
Buck shrugged. “Well, you didn’t like Taylor, so I figured—”
“I liked Taylor,” Eddie protested.
Buck snorted. “Uh, no, you didn’t.”
Eddie tilted his head in a you-got-me face. “I kind of didn’t. I thought you didn’t notice.”
Buck dropped his arm around Eddie’s shoulders again, making Eddie huff out a breath. “Oh, Edmundo, I always notice.”
No you don’t, Eddie thought, and then he ignored that.
“But,” Buck continued, a hesitation in his voice. “You—you like Natalia, right?”
Eddie didn’t really know her at all, except for how excited she’d been about Buck’s death-that-didn’t-stick and how angry that had made him. “Yeah,” Eddie lied again. “She’s good for you. And she has good taste in couches.”
Buck laughed, relieved. “Good. So—we’ll do a double date, yeah? Me, you, Natalia, Marisol.”
Fuck, no. Eddie thought. That sounds awful.
“Yeah, sure,” Eddie said instead. “That sounds great.”
Eddie was in the kitchen, pre-heating the oven to heat up some frozen chicken tenders because he didn’t have the energy to cook anything else when he felt little arms wrap gently around his midsection. It hurt his ribs, but Eddie didn’t have the heart to dislodge his son—not when these hugs were becoming rarer and rarer each day.
“Hey, kid,” Eddie said, turning in the hold and dropping a hand onto Christopher’s head. “What’s up?”
Eddie had already seen him, when he popped his head into Christopher’s room to find him sitting with Buck, a careful hand brushing the wounds on the man’s cheek. The sight had made something massive and unknowable bloom inside Eddie’s broken chest, threatening to choke him. He’d tamped it down and hugged Chris hello before heading off to shower, but apparently that hadn’t been enough.
Chris looked up, propping his chin on Eddie’s sternum. “I’m glad you’re okay,” he said, a tightness in his voice betraying him.
Eddie smiled. “Me too.” Even though it sparked the ache in his side into a bona-fide pain, Eddie leaned over to drop a kiss onto Christopher’s head—something he barely tolerates anymore. “Hey, the doctors said I’d be good as new in six weeks. Think you can deal with having me around all the time for that long?”
Chris laughed, bright and happy, and Eddie’s heart sang. “I’ll try,” he joked, and then something clouded passed over his face. “Buck’s okay, too, right? His face is bloody.”
“Oh, buddy,” Eddie sighed. Usually, he would kneel down to meet Christopher’s gaze, but he settled for easing himself into a chair and ignoring the concerned look Chris was giving him. “Buck’s totally fine, he just got scraped up a little bit. And today was pretty—pretty scary. For both of us.” He swallowed down the urge to berate himself for telling his kid he was scared, and it seemed to be the right move, because Chris nodded along with wide, careful eyes.
Eddie sighed again, settling his hands on his son’s shoulders. “But—tell you what. Buck’s gonna stay with us tonight, and he’s pretty bad at taking care of himself, right?” Chris giggled at that, and Eddie smiled in response. “So you and I are gonna have to be sneaky about taking care of him tonight, okay?”
Eddie expected Chris to give another sweet smile, and maybe to offer some comfort so earnest and childlike in its innocence that it made everything in the world feel right again, so he wasn’t quite sure to do when Chris burst out into loud, raucous laughter.
“Okay, what’s so funny?” he said, playing at being annoyed.
“It’s just,” Chris managed through his massive smile. “That’s exactly what Buck said. About you!”
Eddie just blinked in response, and Chris fell into peals of laughter again. “Okay,” Eddie said with mock-offense. “Okay, I see how it is. Gang up on the injured guy, why don’t you.”
“Da-ad,” Chris whined, fixing him with a very grown-up look. “We just care about you.”
Eddie pursed his lips, that unknown emotion threatening to drown him again. “Yeah,” he said, more choked-up than he would like. “I know.”
A small hand covered his, and Eddie flipped his own over to give it a squeeze. “Why don’t you go put on the next episode of María, okay? We’ll translate for Buck.”
Chris smirked. “You mean you’ll translate for Buck.”
“Hey, don’t sell yourself short, kid,” Eddie offered as Chris disappeared into the living room.
And later, when they were all piled on the couch, Christopher giggling at Eddie’s half-assed translations and Buck protesting that he understands more Spanish than you think, guys, the newest dose of pain meds forced upon him by Buck making his head more than a bit fuzzy, Eddie thought to himself: I wish it could be like this forever.
Buck shouted in exaggerated outrage to make Chris laugh, gesturing at some ridiculous plot point playing out on the screen, and Eddie let that huge wave of feeling bowl him over—that world-ending, all-consuming love.
Just this. Forever.
“Hold on, let me get this straight,” Hen said, a hand raised to keep Eddie quiet. “He has this whole thing about his girlfriends being couches, and the couch he finally bought is your couch?”
Feeling somehow embarrassed, Eddie just nodded. Hen shared a smirk with Chimney, sitting on the lawn chair that Maddie hadn’t let him move from for the entire party.
“That’s like—almost romantic,” Chimney snorted.
“What?” Eddie said.
“He’s been looking for the perfect couch, but it was yours all along!” Chim crowed, and Hen dissolved into giggles. She was definitely more than a little drunk.
“It’s so sweet, Eddie, come on,” she needled.
“Well, sure, but—” Eddie sputtered. “—romantic? Come on, guys.”
“No, you—you come on.” Hen said around a hiccup. “You guys are—Buck and Eddie! Eddie and Buck!”
“Yeah,” Eddie replied with a frown. “And you guys are Hen and Chim.”
“Nah, no, no, no,” Chim said with a wagging finger. “It’s not the same.”
“How is it not the same?” Eddie threw his hands in the air, one hampered by the half-full bottle in his hand. “You guys are partners, just like us.”
“Yeah, but,” Hen said. “You guys are partners,” she explained, trying for some hand gesture that must have gotten lost in the all the alcohol and rush of the party because she just ended up clasping her hands together awkwardly.
“You guys are crazy,” Eddie said with a long-suffering shake of his head.
“And you’re crazy about Buck,” Hen said in an it’s-so-obvious whisper.
Eddie drew back. “What?”
“Hen—” Chimney started, a hand on her arm.
She shook him off. “No, I gotta—Eddie, you and Buck are like, perfect for each other. You love him, right?” Her eyes were wide and earnest behind her glasses.
“Of course I do,” Eddie said automatically.
Hen gestured emphatically, whacking Chim on the shoulder like this proved her point.
“Hen,” Eddie said gently. “Did you forget that I’m straight?”
Hen scowled, like she did not want to be reminded of this fact. “Okay, but like—if Buck was a girl, you would have asked him out by now. You’d be like—fucking married by now.”
Eddie opened his mouth to respond, but found his mind stuck on Hen’s words. If Buck was a girl. Him and Buck, married. Eddie felt far drunker than he should be off just one and a half beers.
“Eddie, ignore her,” Chim cut in.
Hen frowned. “I’m going to find Karen,” she declared.
Eddie watched her retreating form, unsticking his tongue from the roof of his mouth. “He’s my best friend,” he said belatedly.
“Eddie.” Chimney kicked his leg. “Ignore her, okay? She’s drunk.”
“Yeah, but—” Eddie started.
“Look,” Chim sighed. “We joke about you and Buck sometimes, okay?”
“You do?” Eddie asked.
“Little stuff,” Chimney assured. “Just, like, you’re each other’s favorite person and you’re missing what’s right in front of you, or whatever.”
Eddie opened his mouth to respond, to refute—what?—but Chim continued.
“But they’re just jokes, okay? We know you’re both straight. I mean, it’d be great if you weren’t, or whatever, but that’s not the world we live in.”
Eddie’s jaw closed with a click. He sipped his beer.
“He’s your best friend.” Eddie looked back to Chimney. “And that’s—” He seemed to search Eddie’s face for a moment. “That’s enough, right?”
Eddie swallows. “Yeah. Why wouldn’t it be?”
“Exactly,” Chim agreed with an easy smile. “So, don’t worry about it, okay? She’s just drunk and forgot that we don’t make those jokes in front of you guys.”
Eddie nodded. “Right. Besides, Buck has a girlfriend, and—I have a date on Friday, so…”
“You have a date on Friday?” Chimney exclaimed. “That’s great!”
“Yeah,” Eddie agreed, voice flat.
Chimney clapped him on the forearm, unable to reach his shoulder from his sitting position. “Look, man, you’ll find that perfect girl-version of Buck out there, okay? I believe.”
Eddie chuckled. “Sure.”
He looked out to the party—his eyes immediately found Buck, head thrown back in laughter at something Athena had said. The string lights of the backyard made his styled curls shine with a honey-colored fire, his fingers curled carelessly around the neck of a beer bottle made Eddie’s mouth feel suddenly dry.
Just this. Just you, Eddie thought.
“You’re right,” he said to Chimney with a hollow smile. “I’ll find someone.”
474 notes · View notes
mightydragoon · 11 months
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The Eldritch Wizard Part 1
@thelonelighthouse
It's a Danny Phantom and Harry Potter crossover where Danny and Harry are twins. Tons of fun and highly recommended.
Link to the Eldritch Wizard.
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118 notes · View notes
gatzbright · 4 months
Text
sweater weather
dnf fic, 1.6k, one shot, general, ao3 link [Established Relationship, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Angst With a Happy Ending, Fluff]
A cry escapes George’s lips. “Dream—” Dream brings George closer, holds his face in two large palms. “Tell me when you’re hurting, sweetheart,” he whispers thickly, “and I can try help.” George shakes his head. “No,” he says, weepy, “‘s’too much—” “Never,” Dream says. He holds George’s gaze. “You’re never too much—nothing you ever feel is ever too much.”
[Or, The tide brings in old feelings, and George feels the ache.]
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