#anyways im in my peeling stages
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leoullaby · 1 year ago
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:)
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vxsellie · 15 days ago
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KINDLY, DARLIN' - 𝐸.𝑊
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summary. after seemingly endless days on the road, you find yourself at a random country bar in the middle of nowhere. entering with the sole goal of getting your hands on come kind of alcohol, your attention is soon drawn elsewhere. to a girl and her guitar. notes. ok funny story! this idea came to me from a 5 sec interaction i had with a complete stranger. i went out to a bar, gave ten bucks to the singer, & he said the line that the title is based off of , which the prompted my brain to conjure up an entire love story (he's prob double my age lets be so fr) Also! idk if any of u will like this comparison (if not, just ignore this). but, as i wrote this, i imagined ellie's voice like lucy gray's from the hunger game's. like the slight country drawl, strong vocals, yes yes yes yes Also x2! anyone who follows me should know that im absolute SHITTT at writing smut. but, for some reason, that doesn't seem to stop me from creating works of garbage for my own amusement. anyway, if you reach the smut & realize that it's literal trash, i won't blame u for clicking off of this. just a warning! warnings. brief mention of creepy old men at the bar, depictions of alcohol, public flirting ???, eventual smut, drunk sex in a bathroom LMAO, oral (r! receiving), fingering (r!receiving) wc. 5.1k
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𝓕uck your back hurts. Well, if you're being honest, everything hurts. Your neck, back, stomach, legs, hands. Everything that's capable of aching, does.
However, rather unfortunately, you suppose that's to be expected after driving for nigh two days straight in your shitty truck. It's a 90s pickup, the white paint peeling and the tires in desperate need of care. The beige seats are worn and stained, evidence of age having taken its toll on your poor vehicle.
In spite of your truck's needs, you're far more interested in your own ⎯ getting a damn drink.
You're currently coasting through the backroads of some small western town, streets made of dirt and buildings all decrepit. You've never heard of this place before, the name having already slipped your mind due to how utterly foreign it'd been to your mind.
Your headlights cast a yellow glow onto the dirt before you, your tires crunching against fallen leaves and loose rocks. You pass gas stations, wooden homes, dollar stores, an immeasurable amount of churches, and no liquor store. Most shop signs are staked into the dirt, the few billboards all dilapidated in some way ⎯ broken letters, flickering lights, or completely torn from the ground somehow.
Then, by either the grace of God or a wondrous turn of fate, your eyes stutter on a certain sign. A broken wooden one advertising a bar. Your interest is instantly piqued, wheel turning toward the building without hesitation.
You don't give yourself the chance to even think before you're hopping out of your truck and walking into the bar.
The moment you push open the wooden double doors, the sound of boisterous laughter and heavy cowboy boots meet your ears. Perfect.
You stand in place for a moment, craning your neck with narrowed eyes are you examine the atmosphere. To the left, there's a bar with almost every stool occupied by an overweight old man. To the right, there's a pair of barn doors with the word 'restrooms' carved into the wood. In the center of the space, there's bucking machine ⎯ a drunk teenage boy holding on for dear life while his group of friends cackle at him from the sidelines.
Then, on the side of the building opposite you, there's a small stage. It's only elevated a foot or so, wood rotting a bit on the edges. But you hardly care for the conditions of the stage itself. What you find yourself drawn to is the person on it.
In the center is a stool, an auburn haired woman perched atop it with an old guitar situated on her lap. She strums the instrument in an upbeat tempo, leaned forward slightly as she sings into the microphone before her. There's a small crowd in front of the stage, girls admiring and boys whistling.
Considering how run-down this town is, you hadn't expected to stumble across a bar that's so fucking packed. There's barely any open stools at the bar, the bathroom doors are rarely sitting still as people continue to pass through them, the mechanical bull being gifted coins non-stop. But you can't complain.
After so long alone on the road, it's nice to be in such an active atmosphere. It's not calming, of course, but you welcome it lovingly nonetheless.
Watching the auburn for a few moments longer, you then turn on your heel and saunter over to the bar. You're forced to sit beside someone as the lack of stools forbids you from not having a neighbor.
"What can I get'cha, hon'?" The bartender asks you with a tip of his cowboy hat. In his other hand, he wipes the outside of an octagonal glass cup.
"Got any whiskey?" You inquire, leaning your elbows on the sticky countertop.
"Mhm," He hums, turning around to grab a bottle from the shelves behind the bar. He sets the glass onto the counter with a light clink, popping the bottle open. "'N' how would ya like it?"
"Neat."
He nods once more, pouring the liquid into the glass with a flourish before sliding it across the wood toward you. The moment you grab it, he's turning away to tend to another patron. You drink it quickly, downing the glass in one large swig.
As you place the glass back onto the counter, you feel eyes boring into you. Hoping it's someone of interest to you, you turn only to find a duo of old men chuckling at you. Their cheeks are rosy, bellies full ⎯ therefore likely drunk. You roll your eyes as the bartender refills your glass without a word.
Now with an entirely new bit of determination, you down that glass even faster. Another refill. Another singular gulp. Another refill. Another gulp. Another. Another. Another.
You're now swaying a bit atop your stool, feeling pretty good all things considered. The men continue to gossip among themselves, pointing at your ass. You feel disgusted ⎯ not at yourself, but at them for their fucking audacity. Part of you wants to knock their teeth out. But you're not that drunk.
So, instead, you take the mature approach and simply pick up your glass and exit the scene. As you walk away, you hear their chuckles increase and you suddenly regret not punching them.
Your heavy boots thud against the wooden flooring as you walk aimlessly around the bar. You push through an amass of bodies, everyone too drunk to care for your harsh shoving. Then, before you know it, you find yourself situated in the very front of the stage, glass of whiskey in hand.
The woman's voice is laced with a slight country drawl, her boot tapping against the leg of her stool to count the beats of the song. She nods her head as she sings, a small grin lighting her features.
The dim lighting of the bar doesn't do her justice. But you still manage to notice the freckles that dot her face, the cupids bow to her upper lip, the small scar on her right eyebrow. Or maybe you're just drunk and enamored by her. God, what if she finds you creepy? What if she thinks you're some fucking creep? What if she⎯
She looks at you and you swear your heart gives out right then and there. And, if that weren't enough, she winks. You feel your cheeks heat up and you blame it on the alcohol. You down the rest of your whiskey, suddenly feeling very hot. A light chuckle shakes her chest, ringing throughout the space. Nobody else thinks anything of it, of course, all too drunk and preoccupied to give a shit. But you find yourself fantasizing about all the other ways you could make this woman laugh like that again. Oh fuck you are a creep.
In a desperate attempt to salvage the residual bits of dignity you have left, you pull twenty bucks from your back pocket and step forward to drop it into her open guitar case.
She raises a brow, tipping her cowgirl hat in your direction with a smirk. "Thank ya kindly, darlin'."
Somehow, she'd managed to thank you in tune with the song, keeping the beat going without missing a second. It's almost impressive. Okay, it's super impressive. In fact, you feel your heart speeding up again, mind playing on loop the sound of her addressing you. Her country drawl, her smirk, her long fingers grabbing the bridge of her hat. Fuck.
Impulsively, you end up turning on your heel and heading right back to that damn bar. The bartender just grins as he pours you another serving, likely having noticed the flush to your cheeks and the desperation of which you placed the glass down.
"Mind if I give y' some advice?" He asks, leaning forward a bit.
In an act of self pity, you don't have the energy to deny him. "Why the hell not?"
"I ain't gotta clue who you're blushin' over, but my advice is that." He nods toward something behind you. You cast a glance over your shoulder, eyes landing on the bucking machine. You almost laugh, turning back to him with an unimpressed expression. "Listen, y' ain't gotta be good. Y' jus' gotta move your hips right n' I swear he's all yours. Trust me. I've seen it work hundreds of times."
You don't dare to correct him on the gender of your current infatuation, instead deciding to take a few more drinks for a bit of liquid courage. I mean, seriously. How else will you get this woman's attention? Plus, what do you have to lose? You'll never see her again after tonight. The least you could do is try.
After another few drinks, you're staggering over to the mechanical bull with a few coins clutched tight in the palm of your hand. The wait for the stupid thing is way longer than necessary, everyone competing for the longest time lasted on the machine.
You lean your empty hand on the frame of the wooden fence that encircles the rider, watching with reddened eyes as yet another person is flung onto the ground with a heavy thud. He rubs his head with a groan, though his sounds of pain quickly fade into laughter as he brushes off his jeans and stands upright, returning to his boisterous friends with a crooked grin.
Unease begins to lick up your spine, the logical part of your brain wondering why the fuck you're doing this for some country chick you don't even know the name of. You're strong, sure, but your luck would lead you to breaking your neck.
You look over your shoulder casting a glance in the direction of the bar. The bartender gives you two thumbs up, flashing you a grin with missing teeth. As encouraging as that is, what really pushes you to continue is seeing those two old men. They're sitting side-by-side, lustrous smirks on their face as they stare at you, leaning over every few seconds to mutter something in the other's ear. Yeah. Fuck them. You're doing this.
As you make it to the front of the line, you're overcome with naught but confidence. Whether that be due to the sound of the woman's singing growing nearer or the sight of the gross old men, you don't know. Though, honestly, it's likely because of the sheer amount of whiskey you've downed in the past hour.
"Coins." The blonde woman demands, palm of her hand facing you like a bill you've been avoiding. You place the coins into her hand and she opens the gate, hinges squealing as the prior rider stumbles out with a streak of dirt under her eye.
You walk into the ring, feet staggering a bit already from your drunkenness. You hoist yourself onto the bull, situating yourself until you feel a bit less awkward atop the back of the metal animal.
It begins rocking slowly back and forth. You find it easy at first, not really needing to use your hands. You still do, though, not much trusting the machine to not throw you off the moment you let your guard down. It picks up the speed, more. More. More. More. And, before you know it, it's thrashing back and forth. You hold onto the saddle, a dazed smile spreading across your face as you find yourself having fun.
It spins in a circle, your eyes suddenly catching on the woman on stage. She has the perfect view of you from her pedestal, her stool bringing her higher than the crowd just as the bull brings you.
She's still singing into the mic, her voice drowned out by the sound of chatter and cheers ⎯ though you're not sure if they're directed toward you or her at this point.
You've stayed on longer than you anticipated, the ache in your back returning as the bull yanks and dives under you. But you hold on, suddenly remembering the bartender's advice. You don't want to switch up whatever tactic you accidentally built into habit, but the point of this is to get the woman's attention.
So you wait until it spins back around. Then, while her eyes are pinned to yours, you shift a bit, back moving more fluidly as you roll your hips against it. Nobody else would think anything of it, the act so subtle that you simply appear to have altered your position. But she noticed. You know she did. Because her voice caught in her throat, causing her to have to take a sip from her water and apologize into the mic before resuming.
Your confidence spikes at this, suddenly feeling much more egoistical than you did when she was a complete stranger you made eye contact with once. Now you know you have an effect on her.
So you do it again, maintaining eye contact as you roll your hips against the bull suggestively.
Just as before, nobody else pays any mind, far too focused on the fact that you're stayed on for so long to give a fuck about technique. Honestly, if anyone were to notice, it'd be those creepy old men. And, hopefully, they're aware that it's pointed at this woman and now them. Though you doubt they'd care. Creeps like them rarely do.
The singer, with her eyes now pinned to you ⎯ though, everyone's now are ⎯ switches her tone a bit. Her song alters from an upbeat bar tempo with little meaning to having more directed lyrics to a girl with mesmerizing eyes. Again, nobody else picks up on this. She sings about a random girl with stunning eyes, never digressing past that.
But you know; and she knows. And that's all that matters.
She sings a certain line, something more lustful about the way you look at her. Something suggestive about the way she's imagining you. You instantly falter, your grip slipping.
You fall to the ground with a thud, the entire bar making a sound of disappointment and empathy. You don't care, though, not giving a single damn about the bull riding. All you care for is that fucking singer.
You hit the ground, breath knocked from your lungs. You cough, pushing yourself onto your hands and knees. Your head spins, the alcohol finally catching up to you. Another cough is yanked from your heaving chest as you groan.
The blonde coin-collecting woman allows the next person into the ring, not waiting for you to give your say. As the next man enters, he offers you his hand. You, desperate for assistance, take it with a grateful smile. He hauls you to your feet, muttering quick compliments on your performance on the bull. You thank him before brushing past him and exiting the ring with staggering steps.
A few people from the crowd compliment you, offering words of encouragement for the 'next time you go up'. You give them half-hearted smiles, chest still aching slightly from your fall.
You shove through the crowd, nearing the restrooms you'd seen at the entrance. You push the doors open and head into the women's side.
You brace your hands on the edge of the sink, glancing in the mirror for a brief moment ⎯ examining the small cut on your cheekbone and the bruises that are beginning to form on your shoulder and hip. You then lean down, positioning your mouth under the faucet before turning on the water. You drink it, relishing in the taste of cool liquid rather than burning alcohol.
"Mm, look who it is."
You smack your head on the faucet with how quickly you straighten. You groan, rubbing your temple as you turn to face the person standing behind you. The singer. Well fuck, that makes the head smack twenty times more embarrassing.
Somehow, she's even more alluring up close. Her pale green eyes bore into you, lashes lidding them slightly. Her skin is lightly tanned, freckles likely produced from a life spent under the sun. Her forearm has a tattoo covering the rippled skin there, lean muscles adorning the rest of said arm.
You play off your staring by narrowing your eyes at her, "Followin' me, are ya?"
"Nah." She shakes her head, stepping forward to wash her hands in the sink beside yours. She tips her head down, looking at her hands as she scrubs, hat coming to block her face from your view. Unfortunate. "Jus' comin' t' wash the filth off my hands. I wouldn't worry, though, darlin', I'm sure that Smilton boy'll check up on ya."
Your brows furrow at this. "Smillin boy?"
"Smilton." She corrects you rather harshly, looking up to meet your eyes through the reflection of the mirror. "Farmer's boy. Rich. Brunette. Helped y' up after the bull."
Realization hits you like a brick. She's jealous. This woman that you've never met, this woman that you stressed over impressing, this woman that you bruised yourself to get the attention of. She's jealous because some farmer's boy helped you stand up. A smirk tugs at your lips, an idea lighting your mind.
"Hmm," You hum lowly, brushing past her to dry your hands on one of the scratchy white towelettes. "He is quite handsome, ain't he?"
"Suppose." She replies shortly.
Your smirk only deepens, drying your hands achingly slow. Because you know she's aware that she has no right to be jealous. And that only serves to make her more pissed off. How interesting.
"What's his first name, if y' don't mind me askin'?" You speak casually, talking with her as though everything that passed between you two prior to this hadn't happened at all. It's driving her insane and you can tell.
"I dunno." She says, turning the faucet off to dry her hands beside you. "Somethin' with a J?"
"Oh, c'mon," you coo, turning to her with those eyes you know she adores. "I know y' know more than jus' his last name."
She looks away, clearing her throat with a set jaw, "you're right. Know his first initial too. It's a J."
You chuckle lightly, releasing the towelette to trace your fingertips along the soft skin of her bicep. "Yeah? And what's your first initial?"
Her entire body seems to tense, breath hitching in reaction to your touch. She looks at you from under the bridge of her hat, green eyes glinting with something informal. Something unfit for a casual conversation between two strangers in the women's rest room. You feel your heart stutter at the sight, having to make an effort not to fall to your knees before her in this very moment.
"E," is all she whispers.
"Last name?" You whisper back, matching her for quietude.
"Williams." She manages.
You hum, eyes following the movements of your hand. Had you not been so drunk, you'd likely never have the balls to be so flirty to her. But, as it turns out, your intoxication is good for something. Well, something aside from staying on some metal bull.
"How pretty," you whisper, leaning forward so your mouth is now right beside her ear. Your breath fans across her skin as you continue. "Now tell me your full name, will ya?"
Her eyes are pinned to your face, pupils tracing your features as your hand traces her arm. She finds herself mesmerized by you, entranced by your every detail ⎯ the slope of your nose, the curve of your cheek, the arc of your brow, the height of your cheekbones, the line of your jaw. She imagines running her tongue along each of these points, imagines committing your to memory using naught but her mouth.
"Ellie." She replies finally, watching closely as your eyes raise to meet hers. Her heart stutters in her chest at that, as it always does when you make eye contact.
Your gaze flicks between her eyes and lips, hand slowly inching up her arm. "Ellie?"
The sound of her name rolling off your tongue is enough to send a spark of heat to her core. That paired with the way your fingers are lightly tracing up, up, up. You move your hand over her shoulder, along her collarbone, up the side of her neck, and finally rests to cup her cheek in your palm. She leans into the touch, eyes fluttering.
"You're such a fuckin' tease," she mutters, voice low as it's weighed down by desire and a deep need to feel your skin on hers.
You ignore her words and move to lean in close enough that your noses brush. Then, with your breath fanning across her skin, you ask, "this okay?"
She doesn't say anything, instead abandoning the towelette completely and grabbing your face in both her hands. With a sudden sense of ferocity, she presses her lips to yours, pulling your body flush against hers.
"I'll take that as a yes," you chuckle between kisses.
"Quiet," she murmurs, too needy for your touch to have time for conversation. As much as she loves hearing you talk, shed much rather talk via action rather than actual words.
You giggle against her lips, your arms coming up to wrap around her neck. She hums, hat falling to the tiled floor with a light brush. With each passing second, her actions become more and more desirous, suddenly pushing your back against the nearest wall. You let out a huff of air from the impact, your lips quirking up to form a small smile, regaled by Ellie's sudden desperation for you.
She tilts her head, peppering kisses down your chin and along your jaw. They're harsh and hungry, nipping your skin in some places purely to see your brow furrow at the feel of her teeth.
As she trails down to your neck, you tip your head back against the wall and open your eyes to blink up at the wooden ceiling. Your hands fist Ellie's hair as she leaves bruises down the column of your throat.
Still well and drunk, the room swirls around you. The lights seem to shift with each blink, making this all so much more intoxicating. Your nerves are already on edge due to the alcohol, so the feel of Ellie kissing them is absolutely maddening.
You feel as she presses kisses along your collarbone, tongue grazing the taut skin there. You shift, legs pressing together as she grows more sensual in her act of quick intimacy. This movement doesn't go unnoticed by her, however, her lips quirking into a small smile against your skin as she feels rather proud of how quick she's turned you to putty under her.
She moves across the bare skin of your chest, plump lips taking time to memorize each detail that adorns you. You move again, the heat between your legs growing harder to ignore.
"Patience, darlin'." She instructs. "I'll get there when I get there."
You frown at this, "well get there faster."
Her kisses suddenly cease, looking up at you through her lashes. She tilts her head at you innocently, blinking as she waits for you to correct yourself. To reword your restive demand. "Don't be rude, now."
You can feel your dignity push at the back of your throat, pride yearning for a moment to speak. Seeing as you're normally the one making orders, this feels quite stranger. But, after the long journey you've taken, you suppose you've earned a bit of time to sit back and let someone else take the lead.
Ellie draws a line of kisses between your breasts and down your stomach, kneeling before you as her head comes to situate itself in front of your waistband. You can't help but admire how she looks from here, hair in your hands as her eyes are pinned to your denim jeans as though it's a buffet and she's a man starved. After a moment, she lifts her head to look at you.
Eye contact. Sparks shoot through your body. Somehow, something as simplistic as meeting Ellie's gaze can make you feel indescribably nervous. Pale green irises bore into you, waiting for you to utter words of consent. You do so, giving her the go-ahead.
As soon as you do, Ellie wastes no time hooking her fingers through your belt loops and pulling your jeans to your knees. She leans forward, eyes lidded.
"Wait." You pant, tugging on her hair to halt her movements. She seems rather annoyed by your sudden interruption, but looks up at you kindly despite her own irritation. You rolls your eyes at her evident pique. "What if someone walks in?"
She sighs heavily at that. "I locked the door."
"Oh, okay." You nod. Though, just as she's about to lean forward again, you stop her once more. "Wait. How did you know to lock it? You were all pissy when you first came in here."
"I didn't know." She explains hastily. "I simply hoped."
You huff out a chuckle, shaking your head fondly at her admittance. Then, finally, you don't stop her when she leans forward.
She traces her tongue along the outside of your underwear, the fabric between you only adding to the pulsing in your pussy. A shiver wracks through you, causing Ellie to grab you by the hips to hold you still. She traces circles into your hips with her thumbs, a gentle motion when compared to the needy movements of her tongue as she draws small circles into your clit.
You tighten your grip on her hair, drawing a grunt from the back of her throat. The vibrations from her mouth against your pussy makes it hard to keep back your own noises.
When she finally shifts your panties to the side, you nearly collapse at the feel of her mouth against you. She licks a long stripe up your vulva, a shaky breath yanking from you. The sound only urges her further, taking one hand and drags her middle finger up your center. You shift, leaning heavily against the wooden walls as standing upright suddenly seems impossible. Then, without warning, two fingers shove right into your hole.
Your hips jolt, moving far more than initially seeing as Ellie is now only holding on with one hand. Whilst thrusting her fingers in and out of your needy pussy, her tongue circles your clit with that same neediness, mirroring you for desperation.
Your head falls back, thudding lightly against then wall. At the sound, Ellie ceases. You almost whine at her sudden stopping.
"My eyes are down here, darlin'." She says lowly. "Let me see you."
Begrudgingly, you oblige, lowering your head to make eye contact with Ellie. She's on her knees, legs folded against tiled flooring as she resumes her lapping. You huff out an airy moan as you have to actively stop yourself from tipping your head back again. She holds your gaze the entire time, adding to the intensity of the feel. Her eyes are lidded, shoulder moving as her fingers recommence.
This all paired with your dizzy head and swimming vision makes for quite the climax, core knotting progressively as Ellie doesn't dare to stop. "Fuck," you pant as you buck your hips against her face, forced to watch as you do so. With another heavy breath and an arching back, you utter, "I'm⎯"
She seems exponentially proud as she hears you say this, regardless of if you finish your sentence or not. She pauses only for a moment to say, "yeah?"
"Mhm," you hum, though it comes out more of a moan than anything.
"Do it, darlin'."
And you do, coming undone right atop her face. She, admittedly, relishes in it, hydrated only by what you're able to provide her with. You see stars and they're swimming too, circling your head in a celestial body of pleasure. And Ellie watches, for once allowing your head to fall back as she deems this a one time exception. Because there will be a next time.
You're panting as you lower your head to face her once more, her gaze never having left your expression. She makes out with your pussy sensually as to bring you down from your high. Then, as gently as she can, she situates your panties back on correctly and pulls your jeans to rest as your hips, remaining knelt in front of you as she zips and buttons them just as she'd found them.
You watch with a twinkle of fondness behind your irises, unable to look away from the expression of adoring concentration she wears. She then uses your hips as a support system to haul herself back to her feet, leaning forward to press a kiss to your lips. You can nigh taste yourself on her.
"Not bad for a stranger at a sketchy bar." You muse, picking her hat from the floor and situating it atop her auburn tufts of hair. She watches you, analyzing your every move.
"I'm not just a stranger." She reminds you as your eyes find hers, your hands coming to drape around her shoulders. "I'm a stranger who wrote a song about you."
"Mm," you hum, "so you're a stalkers stranger?"
"I prefer the term passionate." She says, shooting you a playful scowl.
You chuckle, "passionate for what? Stalking and preying on drunken women?"
"Pfft-" She scoffs. "You're not drunk."
For a moment, you consider agreeing with her. To save her the pain of realizing you hadn't been sober for this. But you know better than to lie to her. So, through lidded eyes ⎯ ones that should have been a rather telltale sign of your intoxication ⎯ you give her a look, not even needing to voice the truth aloud for her to understand.
"Well fuck." She groans, taking a step backward and causing your arms to fall to your sides.
Frankly, you'd expected her to be much more angered than that. Because you know you would be. After writing a song, chasing down, then tongue-fucking someone in the bathroom, the worst news to receive would be that they'd been wasted the entire time.
"I'm sorry," you're quick to apologize, for some reason feeling the need to earn her forgiveness.
"How're you planning to get home?" She asks.
"I hadn't thought about that." You admit.
"How about this," she suggests, "I give you a place to stay to apologize for fucking you while drunk and you let me take you to dinner tomorrow to apologize for not telling me beforehand. Deal?"
A smirk works its way to your mouth, "deal."
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zyonsay · 1 year ago
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I got a new man on me, it's about to get sweaty LN4
Fem aligned people may read but not f3tishize my work!!
Summary: You spot Lando in the crowd at your concert and decide to take him to your hotel room
Reader: Genderneutral
Warnings: Very suggestive, smut only indicated at the end
Now playing: "Escapism" by RAYE & 070 Shake
AN: Hey pookies, i got ripped a new one by a chemistry exam yesterday haha. Kill me.
Anyways! I've been listening to Ferrari Horses/Escapism a lot and i ALWAYS had this picture of Lando in my head while doing so! I hope y'all like this <3
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The stage lights went out as you entered the stage with an elevator. As soon as you were situated, which had to be quickly, one singular spotlight shone onto you, as you chimed in.
“Sleezin n’ teasin’, im sittin’ on em. All of my diamonds are dripping on em.”
The crowd cheered at your appearance, you’d gained a lot of international attention in the last month or so. Numerous people attended your concert, though one very special person was standing in the front row.
Lando discovered your music not too long ago, but when he did it was the perfect match. He loved your voice; it was sweet and breathy but also sharp as a dagger. The base hits perfectly and your talent for lyricism fascinated him.
He watched each of your movements, enjoying your elegant and hot performance. He had to admit, you were very pretty and exactly his type, though he didn’t think it’d be very likely that he’d ever speak a word to you.
The brit could feel his cheeks heat up at the sight of you dancing around to the crowd’s roars. The black fabric of your top perfectly hugged every dip and curve and your low hanging pants showed off your beautiful hips and parts of your underwear.
“At least it’s the Prada two-piece that i’m trippin’ in.”
“And I’m already acting like a dick, know what I mean?”
“So, you might as well stick it in.”
The next thing that happened made Lando’s heart stop beating for a moment. You pointed at him, then at yourself and finally crossed your fingers. His knees felt like they were going to give in, and a very apparent grin spread across his face.
You had found your prey for the night, and he happily obliged.
Lando wasn’t quite sure what to do since he couldn’t just sneak backstage. So, he just stood around, waiting for you to appear and drag him to the nearest hotel. His mind was filled with images of you under him, on top of him, or kneeling before him. And then you were there, a sly smile on your face and an unknown glint in your eyes.
He escorted you to his 765LT Spider, making small talk and complimenting your performance. He was funny and sweet, but for the night you couldn’t care less, you just wanted to bring him back to your luxurious hotel room and fuck him.
As you guided him through the hotel lobby one of your hands snaked around his waist, causing him to quickly glance at you with a mischievous smile. While walking trough the corridors, towards your room, his hand landed on your ass, giving it a firm squeeze. You exhaled sharply; he was cheeky.
Just before you could open the door with your card, he spun you around and pressed you to the door. His lips caught yours in a feverish kiss and his hands started roaming, tugging slightly at the waistband of your bottoms. You groaned into the kiss, making him chuckle.
You then managed to pull out your card and unlock the door. Neither of you wanted to waste any time, so you were already peeling your clothes off. You helped him with his dress shirt, pulling it from him after opening all the buttons. You were barely left in your underpants when he threw you on the grey designer couch as if you were a Ragdoll. Lando left kisses all over your body, leaving hickey after hickey while massaging your inner thighs with his careful hands.
His mouth got closer and closer to your core while his hands had slipped under the back of your underwear to grope your ass.
“Take these off for me.”
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niki-phoria · 2 years ago
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AHHHA stop I'm the anon who requested the Niki x male reader with him having a hug crush AND I LOVED IT LIKE IM OVER HERE READING IT BLUSHING AND GIGGLING 😭🤞🏽also YES definitely make a part 2 😔🫶🏽 and it would be more adorable if m/r is like inches smaller then Niki which the members tease about☠️
Again, thanks for writing my request and have a lovely day🧸
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my bf (real)
pairing: niki x male!idol!reader (he/him pronouns) genre: fluff word count: 2.3k (longest fic i've ever written !!)
includes: blushy niki, mainly niki's pov, reader is implied to be shorter than him, supportive enha, brief mention of homophobia
niki's outfit is barely based on this pic
a/n: i'm so glad you liked the first part !! this idea is so cute, i love it sm i've been thinking of making this a series but the only other idea i have rn is them practicing together and reader meeting the rest of enha (maybe a collab stage ?? idk) i hope you like this part too <33
PART 01 / PART 02
requests open !! read my rules first
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normally the familiar noise of niki’s phone vibrating on the table beside his bed would be an annoyance - a reminder that it’s finally time to leave the safety and warmth of his bed and do some work for the day. but today his alarm can’t come soon enough. 
jungwon and jay are already in the kitchen making breakfast together when he sits up in his bed. he can hear them bickering amongst themselves as he peels off the covers, quick to wash his face and brush his teeth in the mirror. he spends a few extra seconds checking his appearance in the reflection. it’s something he wouldn’t normally do, but it feels needed. 
he pushes his bangs back as he makes his way into the living room. sunghoon is sprawled across the couch as jake sits on the loveseat across from it. he nudges sunghoon’s foot out of the way, sitting down next to him. “morning niki,” jake smiles.
“good morning.” 
“when’s your date with y/n?” 
“later today,” he replies, pulling his phone out to check the time. “in two hours.” 
“today?” sunghoon perks up, shifting to look up at the boy. “you don’t look nervous.” 
niki raises an eyebrow. “should i be?” 
“no, but,” sunghoon moves to sit up fully on the couch. “you’ve liked him for a while. i figured you would be a little anxious about going on your first date.” 
“why don’t you help me then? i still need to decide what to wear and how to do my hair.”
“we’d love to help,” jake smiles. “come on.” 
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“try this on,” sunghoon says, shoving another shirt at him. niki takes it, disappearing back behind the bathroom door momentarily to put it on. 
“where are you guys going anyway?” jake asks from his position on jungwon’s bed. 
“he’s taking me to a cafe,” niki replies, exiting the bathroom. he tugs at the shirt’s collar in an attempt to ease his nerves. “a cat cafe.”
“so… casual,” sunghoon notes, continuing to rummage through niki’s closet. 
“why not just wear a hoodie and some jeans? it’s what you wear all the time anyway.” 
“i like that idea,” niki says, tossing another sweater back at sunghoon. “it’s just a cafe date.” 
sunghoon sighs as he relents. “at least accessorize with some jewelry.” 
“of course.” niki grabs a hoodie out of the pile before tugging it over his head. jake sits up to brush his bangs aside and help him fix his hair. 
“try this on.” sunghoon tilts his chin up to wrap a silver necklace around niki’s neck. it sits just above the neckline of the hoodie. it matches the earrings he has in. “keep the earrings too.” 
niki stands up, checking himself in the mirror. he pushes his nerves down before they can overwhelm him too much. his oversized hoodie hangs loosely on his frame. he brushes his bangs back again so the strands sit nicely behind his ears. he looks like he usually does. nothing about him specifically looks like he’s about to go on a date. it’s for the better, he assumes. 
“it’s 09:45,” jake’s voice interrupts his internal debate. 
“i need to get going,” niki frantically searches for his phone, quickly shoving it into his pocket. “thanks for your help!” he calls as he rushes to grab a random pair of shoes. he ties the laces as fast as possible before running out of the dorm. 
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the clock hanging on the wall reads 10:00 exactly as niki pulls on the door handle to the cafe. a chorus of small meows and purs welcome him as he glances around in search of you. “niki!” you smile, making your way through the swarm of cats over to him. “hi.” 
“hi.” he’s sure his cheeks are burning as you take his hand, leading him over to a table. 
“i got you a vanilla latte,” you say, pushing the drink towards him. “i hope that’s okay.” 
“it’s perfect.” 
one of the cats jumps into your lap, curling into a ball against your thighs. you smile, stroking a hand against her fur. even with his poor knowledge of different cat breeds, niki can recognize it as a calico. her face and body are scattered with orange and black patches. she purs against your jeans, nuzzling closer against you. 
niki can’t help the small smile that spreads across his face at the sight. the animal looks so content from her position laying against you. he breaks the brief silence when you look up at him. “the cats look so comfortable around you. do you come here often?” 
“i use this place as a way to destress; if that makes sense. i don’t have the time to take care of any pets myself so i hang around here with the cats. the coffee helps too,” you chuckle. “i read somewhere that you have a dog. bisco, right?” 
niki smiles a little bigger. you know about his dog. “yeah, bisco.” 
“i’ve seen a few pictures. he’s cute.” 
“not as cute as you.” the words leave niki’s mouth before he realizes what he just said. he all but retracts back into himself from embarrassment before you laugh. 
“thank you.” 
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the hours slowly blend together as you and niki laugh together. your drink goes cold from how long you spend sitting around the cafe talking until you can’t ignore your hunger any longer and finally decide to get lunch. you leave the cats after a long series of pets and promises to return soon. warmth spreads through niki’s chest as one of the cats leans up to rub her face against his hand as you smile at them. 
“ramen?” you ask. 
“sure.” 
your hands brush against each other as you walk through the seoul streets. it’s the middle of a workday but you still pass by a few stray people along the way. niki hesitantly reaches over before you finally take the initiative to take his hand into yours. you look up at him. “is this okay?”
niki squeezes your hand, intertwining your fingers together. “it’s more than okay.” 
he can see you smile behind your mask as you continue guiding him through towards the restaurant. it’s exhilarating - holding your hand, making you laugh, being on a date with you. all of his nerves have faded away by now. only a soft, loving warmth remains. it’s an unfamiliar but welcome feeling that only builds the longer you spend together. 
his thoughts are interrupted when he all but knocks into your body - again - when you abruptly stop. “sorry,” he whispers. you simply shake your head with a small smile, tugging him into the restaurant. 
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you throw your head back as you laugh, bringing a hand up to cover your face. niki can feel his own smile growing as he watches you try to calm yourself down. it’s a beautiful sound - one that he’d like to hear more often. despite having heard it through a phone screen countless times it sounds different when you’re sitting in front of him. smiling because of him. 
you fall into a comfortable silence together. for a few moments it feels like the world stops. everything around you disappears, fading away into nothingness. your eyes momentarily flick from staring into niki’s down to his lips. they’re tinted an incredibly slight pink; probably the remains from a lip stain applied for a promotional stage. 
“niki,” you whisper. the sun is setting around you, casting a gentle golden glow across him. his cheeks feel warm under your gaze. 
“can i kiss you?” his voice is quiet - as if he’s worried that saying the words too loud will make you pull away from him forever. his deep brown eyes stare into your own as he patiently awaits your response. 
it feels like hours when you nod. niki slowly leans in a little closer to you. he smiles a little, reaching up to rest a hand on your cheek, stroking his thumb against your soft skin before pulling you into a sweet kiss. 
suddenly, nothing else matters. you’re no longer two famous idols who have responsibilities to go back to and fans to potentially disappoint. you let yourself forget about all of the homophobia and backlash and hate in the world. you’re just two boys kissing underneath a sunset. 
niki’s face is flushed when you finally pull away. your lips are a little pink, matching niki’s. a slight breeze blows past you, rustling your hair. he raises a hand to fix it with a small smile. “can i call you mine?” you whisper. 
despite niki’s still-deepening blush, he nods immediately. your smiles grow as you lean in to press another quick peck against his lips. 
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it’s nearly dusk by the time niki returns to the dorms. he’s still giddy as he enters, slipping off his shoes and making his way into the living room. 
jay is the first to notice him, perking up in his seat. “how was the date?” 
“he was gone for a while, it must’ve been good,” jungwon says. 
“it was.” 
sunghoon raises an eyebrow at him. “that’s all? jake-hyung and i spend all morning helping you get ready and all you tell us is that it was good?” 
“come on!” sunoo nudges him as he sits down. “we’re curious.” 
niki sighs, looking down at his hands. “he knew my coffee order and asked about bisco. he payed for us to get ramen together and spoiled some new parts of his comeback for me. he’s really sweet. he made me laugh all day and…” his voice drops as he plays with his fingers. “i really like him.” 
“aw, you’re blushing!” heeseung teases. he reaches over to pat niki’s knee reassuringly with a smile. “i’m glad you two had a nice time together.” 
“did you get a good night kiss?” 
the blush on niki’s neck deepens at jake’s question. “i did,” he says, faking confidence as he sits upright. “i kissed him this time.” 
“cute,” jungwon laughs, playfully pushing his shoulder. “our maknae is growing up!” 
“did you make it official?” sunoo asks. 
niki can feel his blush deepening, though he doesn’t try to hide his face in fear of making the teasing even worse. “we did.” 
“aw!” 
“that’s so cute!” 
“i can’t believe he’s dating already,” jay dramatically sighs, leaning back against the couch as he places a hand over his heart. “they grow up so fast.” 
“when do we get to meet him?” the others pause their teasing at heeseung’s question, waiting for an answer from niki. 
“i’ll ask him about it.” 
the playful pats and hair ruffles immediately resume after he answers. niki laughs as they debate amongst themselves over your relationship milestones. who will say ‘i love you’ first, planning your first anniversary, more likely to propose, how it’ll happen. 
he lets their words mix together in the background as he pulls out his phone, clicking on your contact. he smiles to himself as he changes your profile picture from a random image he found online to one that he took personally. you’re holding the calico cat in your arms as she cuddles into your chest while you look up at him. everything about the picture is perfect. your bright smile, the cute cat, and most of all, the memory safely locked away deep in his mind that returns each time he glances at the image. 
he saves your contact, typing out a quick message. 
you
i had a great time today :)
y/n <3
me too !!
i can’t wait to see you again
you
my members have been asking about you
they want to meet you sometime
y/n <3
i’d love to meet them
i’ve watched some of the en-o’clock eps and they all look really nice
you
i’m glad
we’re doing promotions at music bank in a few weeks
maybe we can meet up there?
y/n <3
that works perfectly
i can’t wait to meet them
there’s a slight pause before your next message. niki stares at the texting bubble as it disappears before reappearing a few seconds later. he waits as you type and retype the same message over and over, anxious to see his reply. 
y/n <3
when can i see you again ?
niki smiles down at his phone. you want to see him again. a second date. the potential for another sweet kiss shared between two equally nervous boys. more memories with you. laughing until tears sting the corners of his eyes and talks that slowly transform into deep conversations. 
you
i have some free time in a few days
we can meet up together and practice
i’d love to see more of your dancing
y/n <3
that sounds great !!
i can’t wait :)
“texting him again?” sunghoon asks. 
“y/n’s his boyfriend,” jake nudges. “let him text in peace.” 
“i was asking if he wants to meet you.” niki locks his phone, setting it down on the couch beside him. “he’ll be doing promotions at music bank in a few weeks. he said we can meet up backstage.” 
“that’s a good idea,” jungwon says. 
“we’re proud of you,” jake reaches through the sea of limbs to pat niki’s knee once again with a smile. “i know we tease a lot, but we’re all happy for you.” 
niki’s own lips curl into a small smile as he nods. “thank you.” 
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rosemaze-reveries · 3 months ago
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my sangria rot came back ueue
imagine you first met her before she every encountered nicholas. I think she would've been much meeker back then. almost waiflike but you'd have to peel away the perfect curls and stage makeup to notice. she got into trouble a lot for meeting with audience members but she figured her father would find something to be upset about regardless of how perfectly she listened to him so she continued seeking out people that leave her daisy-eyed even if it's temporary
her fans hold her in high esteem and always gush about how much they envy her, or how they wish they had a half of her talent, and honestly she gets a kick out of basking in that illusion so she plays along. yes i live a perfect life and yes my only dream is the same as every other young singer's, to get into that prestigious conservatory in paris that everyone wants to go to. yes im forever grateful to my generous father for giving me these opportunities yadda yadda
anyway she likes you because you're always throwing compliments at her feet like roses whenever you catch her after a show. really she's the one who admires you more than the other way around, but she can't admit that because she's still performing the illusion of being 'perfect' even off stage. she likes that you're interested in her as a person and not as a little bird on stage, although many of the things she tells you about herself are bluffed up. maybe it's more apt to say she's comforted knowing you see her exactly how she wants to be seen
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nitunio · 7 months ago
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tsukumo ryo for the character ask meme :3
Thanks for the askkkkkkk!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! and when i thought that i wont see this name in my ask box.....
Ryo Tsukumo (by unpopular but much appreciated demand)
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BINGOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!
joking JOKING
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BINGOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!
In all honesty. When I first watched Third Beat I was so jawdropped by him and what he's doing and it made me irrationally scared to the point where I forgot about taking screenshots (i usually do so for future reference). and a month after I still caught myself thinking back to i7 because to me it was just another anime but HE was one of the characters that made me stay. He made me want to know what happens next So Much that I spent hours on wikis and websites searching more info on how to access more stories besides the anime. I AM SO NORMAL ABOUT HIM
and when I continued thinking back to him I found myself with the following thoughts: "evil. so hot." and "wow. he's like. proper disgusting. im intrigued!!!!" and by lords. when i first drew him on emotion it felt like an electricity jolt to my brain. I was never the same since. and I went back to rewatch Third Beat. and I read third part and fourth part and.
It's always a stage play and he's performing for everyone. If nobody's paying attention to him, he will point all lights to himself. But not in that way, pay attention in a different way. Love him, like him... If nobody likes him, then everybody shouldn't. If he is bad, then he should be the worst. If he wants something, he will get it. There are so many cracks within his fragile ego facade. And the only ones for him, the only ones he could peel this wrapping for, even if for a bit, are Riku and Momo. (and ZOOL in pt6)
I project onto him and make many headcanons because I can relate to a lot of his characteristics that CAN BE VERY MUCH MISSED BY THE AUDIENCE WITH HOW QUICK AND SUBTLE THEY ARE. or maybe im just catching myself in the "he's just like me fr" and starting to make things up You never really know with this sort of stuff.
There are two Ryous for me -- the bastard evil guy I want to impale and the Canonly Childhood Traumatised and coping with it in the worst ways possible (which is a recurring theme for characters in i7). I do feel like he gets a lot of hate because people (rightfully so) don't wish to delve deeper into his character because he serves as a good plot device even in his "irredeemably evil" state. I think that another layer of "sinister" gets placed on top considering that He Can Get Worse. it's always possible with the kinds of situations that a lack of regulation and help can bring and He Did Get Worse (ex: balcony scene)
The bastard evil guy is a good flavour of Ryou too because of the situations he can put others in. He's silly, unpredictable, evil, remorseless, sadistic, and absolutely unhinged. hes probably good in bed because of that but please disregard this whole sentence right now. everyone else is wrong and right about him because of how little we get of his screentime that is really about himself but THERE IS SOOO MUCH SO MUCH.
re: aesthetic, gender, design. awooga. 2/3 of my fave colours (orangeish yellow and purple), fave hairstyle (middle part), fave eyes (dead inside), fave frame (look at his back!) I WANT TO STEAL HIS GENDER. I LOVE THE murderous aesthetic I love the playhouse wife aesthetic i love the "i want to be the spoiled child" thing hes got going on . i love his outfits i love his expressions i love his moves i love HIS DESIGN. I FUCK WITH IT SO HARD PLATONICALLY WJAT AM I SAYING AT THIS POINT
Anyways. that was like. a fraction of my thoughts i just scrolled back up and realised ive been torturing you with my elder-scroll worth of text wall
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klonpa · 1 month ago
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saw someone play the sonic generations portion of sonic x shadow generations and get a little glitch where you get stuck walking around underneath the stage and they were like *SARCASTIC CLAPPING* GOOD PORT GOOD PORT and i jhust really do not understand getting mad about it.
probably due to my nature as a person... but like if that happened to me i would be like Ohhh shit thats so cool im under the map . well anyway (restart level). like it sucsk to lose progress but i got to see a little funny unintended thing... though i do love corruptions and peeling apart games in general.
i love seeing the internals of a game and seeing things be fucked up in entirely unpredictable ways. like gen 1 pokemon spaghetti-code-isms. poor optimization lagging-style bugginess is not fun to me at all but a glitch that lets you go out of bounds or a bizarre graphical error is always fun to me. i love it when the coimputer mess up. i love it when cokmputer mess up becaus someone somewhere did not give it the correct instructions.
also if i could peel apart or corrupt a movie i absolutely would. if i could move the camera wherever or turn off all the lighting and textures in a random shot of a movie i would. if a glitch makes the game more frustrating than fun ..... like a control glitch . idk im not a fan of that. i think first and foremost i like strange visual glitches and anything that lets you peek behind the curtain a bit. Well anyway flies off into the sun
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sweatstainsinwinter · 4 months ago
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Day 13 of the gateway tapes
Soo today I moved onto Discovery 1- Advanced focus 10
IK I haven’t mastered intro to f10 but I kinda wanted to see what the next tape was like. Also there’s some really mixed signals on when you should move on in the tapes. Some people say you should give each one a week and some people say you shouldn’t move on until you master the last one.
I’m gonna stick with intro until I master it but I just wanted to do advanced today since I was curious 😋
ANYWAY
A lot of stuff happened!!!
So my body started to feel heavy within seconds, but noticeably heavier than usual.
And at one point I had to imagine myself floating around in a ball (I’ll update w the right terminology later I can’t remember what he called it rn)
So anyway I interpreted it as my consciousness floating and not my physical body so I imagined a hand peeling my consciousness off my body AND I SWEAR I FELT IT. Not the hand but my torso (?) leaving the rest of my body.
But then I got kinda startled and just visualised my whole body floating instead cuz im a wimp 😞 (I think that’s a big part of why I haven’t shifted yet)
Then I had to visualise something coming out my head and I felt that for a bit too!! It was kinda freaky but cool.
Unfortunately I started clicking out about halfway through. My mind kept wondering and I couldn’t pull it back
The tape is 36 minutes long and all the stuff I’m talking about happened in the first 24.
After that you turn back to waking consciousness and then use the last 12 minutes to go back to F10
I didn’t manage it though and fell asleep (AGAIN 😭 I hope this doesn’t become a habit)
Also for some reason this tape felt wayyy longer than the other two 🤔 like when he said to return to waking consciousness I got up thinking it was done and was so surprised when I said I’d only been there for 24 minutes and that there was another 12 left.
Day 14 ✅ (back to intro)
Day 15 ✅
Day 16- I think I was close? Near the middle I kept getting signs my body was falling asleep (itches and stuff) but I ignored them all (it was torture 😭) and then the feeling just vanished and I couldn’t feel anything at all. But at the end of the meditation I could immediately move afterwards (before that part where he gets us to reawaken our physical body). So idk. Honestly I’m worried my will power isn’t strong enough. I was only in that itchy uncomfortable stage for 15, 20 minutes and it took everything in me not to move.
Day 17 ✅
Day 18 ✅
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dajaregambler · 1 year ago
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HeliosR - Fight out vivid colors! - Chapter 11
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Translation of chapter 11 of the event ‘Fight out vivid colors!’ from ‘Helios Rising Heroes’.
Reporter: “Now then, this edition’s highlight of the street fair, the real life Splashy Colors event is going to begin at last!”
Reporter: “And the one match to keep your eyes peeled for will be the hero's showdown!”
Reporter: “The four heroes of Yellow West will be split up in two pairs and going up against each other! No doubt it will turn into a heated battle!!”
Reporter: “Now then, let us introduce the players!”
Reporter: “With the athletic abilities of a wolf, he’ll liven up Splashy Colors like no other! Dino Albani!!”
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Dino: Everyone, thanks for all the cheers! I won’t lose today's battle no matter what! 
Reporter: “Paired up with the youngest of the four, and packed with potential, Leonard Wright Junior!”
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Junior: Hehe, I’ll show ya my playstyle★
Reporter:  “The other players against them are---”
Reporter: “The self-indulgent hero Keith Max! Although lately he’s been hosting a cooking show, and he’s rumored to be a man that gets the job done when he has to!”
Reporter: “Show us how you’re part of the Miracle Trio!”
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Keith: Aah~ don’t go getting yer hopes up for me. Ain’t gonna lose this fight though. 
Reporter: “Paired up with, the one whose looks are enough to heat up the venue… looking cool as ever! Faith Beams!”
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Faith: Aha, those are some amazing cheers. I’ll do my best, in moderation♪
Reporter: “Teams, take your weapons and move to your assigned positions!”
Reporter: “The rules are simple, cover the stage in ink during the allotted time, and secure the encampment. The team with the most ground covered will win!”
Faith: Alright, we act as planned. Keith
Keith: Yeah
Dino: Junior, I’lll leave Faith to you
Junior: Yeah. If we take him out it’ll be harder for Keith to get around
Dino: Most likely. I think tearing down Faith’s strategy will be our road to victory
Reporter: “Now then, ready?”
Reporter: “Go!”
Junior: First I’ll have to find that shitty DJ---
Junior: Woah!?
Faith: Aha, you’re full of openings, Ochibi-chan
Junior: Damn you, stay put!
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Faith: No way♪
Junior: Ooaah!?
Junior: FUCK!! You bastard, ain’tcha enjoying yourself too much now!!!!
Junior: Goddamnit------! Gonna bring you down as if my life depends on it!
Reporter: “Both teams are securing the encampments with ink! While using the gimmicks and skillfully moving around, we have Faith Beams!”
Reporter: “He has adapted to the game, and the way he plays is akin to an expert, what a brilliant performance!”
Junior: Grrrr…! Fight fair and square you shitty DJ!!
Dino: “Junior, calm down! Faith’s more used to playing than I thought he would be”
Junior: I know how to play the game too….
Junior: I’ll try using these gimmicks too! I’ll drive him into a corner like Gray had taught me to before!
Dino: “Got it. Don’t overdo it”
-
Keith: (Haven’t run into Dino so far… can’t be careless though)
Faith: “Keith, are you sticking to the plan?”
Keith: Yeah, I am I am. How’s it over there?
Faith: “I’m in a bit of a pinch. Ochibi-chan’s coming at me with gimmicks now.”
Keith: Oi oi, ya good?
Faith: “Hmmm~ I haven’t closed up on Dino yet. I wanna keep an eye out just for a little longer, can I leave it up to you, Keith?
Keith: Good grief… Well, gotta fight him anyway. I’ll bring ‘im down by my own hands
Faith: “Good luck. It’ll be our win as long as we stop Dino.”
Reporter: “The battle is getting more and more heated up!! Both teams have seemingly gone on the offense!”
Reporter: “Dino Albani, who has been sticking with securing the encampment, is finally on the move!”
Reporter: “And on the other side Keith Max had suddenly changed the way he was acting a few moments ago!!”
Dino: It’s on, Keith!
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Reporter: “Dino Albani has gotten a hold of Keith Max!”
Keith: Spared me the trouble of searching for ya…
Keith: Bring it on, Dino!!
Dino: Haaaaaaaaaah!!!!
Keith: ….!!
Reporter: “Both are locked into a heated exchange of shots head-on! Who will come out unscathed….!?”
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p-t-f-s · 5 months ago
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everytime i make a new friend or i open up about shit it /always/ ends up at one point or another they say my life is like a tv show or i should write a book or pitch my life - like more a handful amount of times, like damn near every time i make a friend. and like. i wish they were wrong when i try to look objectively at what im telling them and not just. my life that i wake up and live and go to sleep with every day. but also like. thats also a looooooooooot of people ive met??? everyone has interesting and fun stories, but most of life is so similarly repetitive that we forget it more than we experience. also i do believe it is my autistic rizz. and ability to self sooth and parent.
[its all just personal life bitching/discussion/musings below]
anyways i wish life would be calm for like. a couple months pls. i know a year is too much to ask but literally this year has been a lot. like last year was a lot but it wasnt a fucking competition. getting my car stolen again, then losing my job in what was supposed to be my 5 year anniversary, and then finding out my uncle had stage 4 cancer. then it was spring break and i got to visit my cousing with a thankfully preplanned and prepayed vacation during the midst and height and she and her husband were like "heres our cocktail maker. get as drunk as you want" which was nice of them so i stayed tipsy half the time i was awake instead of high while in seattle. went to a wine tasting expo. got throw up drunk. my cousin was very impressed by my ability to keep my manners while drunk past my tits and wait to throw up till after id rolled the window down and stuck my head out. i was getting blackout drunk bc id apparently texted my friends i loved them which i had no recollection of doing considering my phone was actively dying while i was still only actually tipsy at that expo. i was also less stress then bc my car had been found. totalled, crashed and smashed in the front which thankfully i owed less than it was worth so they payout covered the downpayment for my new car. rip to not getting my personalized horse license plate with my name on it. then i get back home and my uncle is now dead and the whole family is in town for the funeral. its been a cascade of em for a few years now since my mom started the party back in 21.
by the viewing id started a new job for a week. close by home and only a dollar less than previously. they were asking a whole lot for shit pay in truth. and NOW. I FIND OUT THE JOB I STARTED WHILE TAKING A FRAUD ACCOUNTING CLASS. MIGHT BE VICTIM TO FRAUD. POSSIBLY SINCE INCEPTION AND IN THE MOST TERRIBLY HORRIBLY OBVIOUS WAY THAT JUST KEPT SLOWLY AND SLOWLY GETTING PEELED AND REVEALED. I love it when the head of one department tells me hes in cahoots with the head of another dpt and a few workers from their and others about the terrible company shit they found and are kinda looking at other jobs. ofc he did say that after i said to his face that i was spending a bit every morning applying to other jobs after learning of the possible fraud VIA OUR """CONSULTING CFO""" having been previously convicted of fraud. twice. over a decade between convictions. were getting drinks later this week for him to tell me everything else hes found and lurked about in the system. and how no one understands what accounting is or does or how i actually spend half or most of my day playing solitaire or watching anime. bc they want me to be a controller but are calling and paying me at the clerk level. so thats what they get. i love the phrase act your wage.
theres still so many other things that have happened this year too that i still havent mentioned. like the moon hole. passive aggressive fighting with my upstairs neighbor who said i was "delusional and fucking hallucinating" bc i said he stomps in the middle of the night. and literally as i typed that there he went above my head at. ah. 10:58 pm. since my second talking to him in march i know ive not been the only one to talk to him about his shaking the goddamn foundations of the building or waking the toddler constantly in the apartment next to his, diagonal from mine. the surprise birthday party my friends threw for me after literally freightening me when i came home with surprise and each giving me different hearfelt and attentive gifts of all my different interests. weekly dinners with my dad on the same days he was court ordered to have my older siblings and i during the week as he lives 10 minutes away taking care of our grandfather. hes the only reason i get updates on my older sisters life as she blocked me on all social media and cut me from her life before our mothers death for our differing political beliefs. infighting truly is the death of leftists as out beliefs were always closer together than to that of our very republican parents. but im also not an american government shoe loving authority cuck like most the rest of em. "you know what its like to be a minority bc you were a literal minority of being white kids going to a majority black school in the city." to my fucking FACE. not only is that incredibly dismissive on so many levels but like with how LEGITIMATELY my siblings took and NOODED THEIR HEADS?????? TO IT. truly fiction is a joke compared to life.
anyways this is the most any of you will ever get from me here on tumblr in months, good luck to any of my followers seeing this who were unaware i am a person and wassup to my mutuals entirely unaware of my life and smooches to my dear dear friends who are all very aware of all of this. everyone else. idgaf, this was for me to vent and proclaim. bc i lay down in my bed with my cat looking very disappointed that im not asleep despite how late it is and i have to go to sleep keeping all of that with me for the rest of my life. oh it may not stay close, it may not be completely there by the end, but i know i will always be aware even more so than before when i was living out of my car, of what i keep in and am willing to leave in and with it. I have somehow kept that cute little cactus my friend gave my for my birthday alive still, i now have a whole wall of plants that ive kept alive for over a year, and i plant to keep that as long as I can. I have presents and gifts and memories that i plan to look fondly on tomorrow and the day after and the day after that and so on. afterall. I need to check on my plants and water them, and feed my cat. everyday a tragedy happens and still i must feed my cat. my mother was dying, and still i had to feed my cat. was she suffering? no, she was not even there anymore to be suffering and still i must go home and feed my cat and sleep and wake up and there is my cat to welcome my mornings after guarding my nights, a clear agreement that she must be fed once pleased with her pettings. my elder sister blocked me and cut me from her life before our mothers death and even during she did not change, strong in her stance and belief not even grief would change or ease her foundations. nor would my grief stop my cat from being fed. every day i wake and sleep with all these things and one day my cat will die. and i will grieve. and it will not be her that gets me through it, but she will never be parted from me again. i will wake up and make the same sleepy motions that indicate her morning ritual that will not be performed. my day will be as different and as same as it was before. i will sleep and i will wake with it all and i will meet someone new and tell them the first time i really got into energy drinks was after getting a whole case for being a smartass at 7am to emergency driving instructors. that i only started drinking coffee bc a boy who liked me worked at starbucks and so gave me a large giftcard and an in to getting my first job at starbucks. you never know why or how somethings started.
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seollenda · 3 years ago
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indulge you, indulge her (omega!reader x alpha!nayeon)
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[apologies for the awkward screenshots of requests as i take the last few asks from my old inbox LOL]
CW: g!p abo smut, kinda fluffy tbh
word count: ~1700
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it was hard to say who exactly had clearly neglected their suppressants that day.
crowded end of award show stages were already a bit overwhelming, but to be hit by the pheromones of some nearby alpha clearly approaching rut? you’d calculated that you would make it to your unsuppressed heat after awards activities. yet whoever had neglected to manage their own cycle threw out your careful planning in an instant.
you gritted your teeth on the drive back to the dorm, not daring to take off your sweats even as you felt the inevitable heating of your skin. nobody in the van seemed to have noticed yet. traffic made the commute unbearably long.
the first thing you did upon arriving home was rush into the bedroom to peel off your clothes. the cold air made you sigh, sending a full body shiver through you as you flopped onto your bed.
“y/n, we’re gonna order takeout, did you—whoa.” 
chaeyoung had barely stepped into your shared bedroom when she froze at what was likely a brick wall of your heat scent. the other omega raised her eyebrows.
“you were so sure it wouldn’t be for another few days.”
“an alpha on that stage was not being very considerate,” you muttered sourly. your roommate giggled. “would you shut the door? don’t wanna embarrass myself in front of the entire dorm.”
chaeng did so, but looked at you quizzically.
“you want me to ask an alpha? i know you were nervous about it but…” she trailed off, picking her words carefully. “i think there’s few people who you’d be able to trust better than our members. only if you want to, of course. i’ll keep them out if you want.”
you pulled a pillow over your face, groaning.
“maybe.”
“is that yes or no?”
“sure. sure, why not.” you sighed. “even just to scent something for me...”
chaeng nodded, stepping out of the room. “gotcha.”
you lay there in your underwear, the cool satin of your pillowcase providing minor relief against your face. your mind wandered to places that you’d previously worked so hard to stay away from. who would chaeyoung send, anyway?
“hey, y/n?”
nayeon’s voice was soft and clear in the quiet of your room. your heartbeat immediately picked up.
“hi, unnie.” you found yourself suddenly shy. you could hear the eldest member shut the door and approach slowly, as if to not scare you away.
the bed dipped as she perched on the edge. a moment passed until you finally relented and uncovered your face. you opened your eyes to regard your visitor. 
she was pretty.
well, im nayeon had always been pretty. but something about her was heightened to you now, an inevitable attraction, maybe biological after all. the alpha was warm and vital and smelled so good. like musk and dark, thorny flowers.
her cheeks blushed now, probably with the extra onslaught of heat pheromones that released with the lifted pillow. you felt an additional jolt in your daze with the realization that she wanted you too.
but now she sat at a responsible distance, smiling gently, a sweet unnie for the moment.
“our y/n,” she murmured, patting your leg in a touch that sent reverberations through your bones. “can we make you comfortable?”
“yes,” you said without thinking. her toothy grin came across her face, crinkling her eyes into her mischievous smile. 
had you ever imagined what nayeon’s lips would feel like on yours?
well, they were about as soft as they’d always looked. and damn good at kissing.
maybe it was because you were on the front end of your heat, when your pheromones called more for nesting and security than the reproductive demands that later days would, but the alpha was surprisingly tender and sweet to you. she showered your flushed face with soft pecks, nosing your neck and inhaling your scent indulgently. despite your temperature, the sensation of her warm body was magnetic. you tugged lightly on her sweater until she pulled it over her head, giggling softly.
“you’re adorable,” she murmured affectionately, laughing again at your indignant hmph. 
“i ask you for help at my vulnerable moment and you laugh at me…” you trailed off your grousing as she pressed kisses down your jaw and the side of your neck. when she met the edge of your bralette you let out a fluttering sigh, carding your fingers through her hair and gently urging her further.
she obliged, pushing the band up so she could toy with a nipple between her lips. she reached up to hold the side of your face, hearing you whimper at her tongue against your skin. 
“unnie will take good care of you,” nayeon murmured against your skin, trailing her hand down to play with your unattended breast. every touch was like a flame dancing across your body, whatever reservations you’d harbored evaporating with each sigh she drew out of you.
she trailed kisses down your abdomen, pulling your underwear away from you with little difficulty. she lowered herself down between your legs, practically purring as she tasted you for the first time. the broad of her tongue dragging just barely against you made you gasp.
“you taste so good,” nayeon said indulgently, punctuating her statement with a deeper lap at you now. she pressed her tongue inside you, then dragged upward, catching your clit directly and causing a high whimper out of you.
“unnie…”
she responded with more attention to your cunt, pressing deeper until you longed for something more than her tongue. when she turned to sucking on your clit directly, you properly moaned. nayeon hummed appreciatively against you.
“unnie,” you whispered again, trying to get her attention. you opened your eyes as she lifted her head. a mixture of saliva and your own slick shone on her lips and face. there was unconcealed want in her darkened eyes, a lust that was likely reflected in your own. her breathing was heavier than her exertion could justify, her tongue subconsciously darting to taste you on her lips.
“i need you. please.”
nayeon was beautiful undressed. she was rarely shy, but now standing before you like this she suddenly seemed a bit nervous. despite the growing need between your own legs, you admired her beauty alone first, the silhouette of her shoulders and chest backlit by your dimmed bedroom lights.
you reached for her until she climbed back into bed on top of you. her alphahood was hard against your thigh, but she only pressed a long, deep kiss on your lips. 
“i’ve wanted to do this for you for a while,” she confessed softly, breaking the kiss. you looped your forearms over her neck, playing lightly with her disheveled hair. her expression was wide eyed and earnest, and absolutely infatuated.
vague alarms rang in a more sensible mind of yours, but you couldn’t make yourself care. wasn’t part of the needs of an omega the affection of a proper mating? this was just to be expected of such an arrangement. 
“fuck me, nayeon-ah,” you whispered. she broke into the softest smile, dipping her cheek against yours shyly as she maneuvered herself against you and finally, gently pressed inside.
she wasn’t your first, but it had been a long time since you had a real alpha inside of you. she was hard, stretching you around her until she was flush against you. your pussy fluttered and settled until she felt like the most natural presence, a gentle warm fullness that quieted your desperate hunger for a moment.
she stayed inside you like this for a moment, letting you get your bearings, nuzzling below your ear until your scents mingled like the most lush perfume. when you finally began to grind your hips, she took the hint, starting to move so you could still yourself again.
her rhythm was gentle but steady, until her breaths aligned with yours. it felt like everything was subsumed into one synchronous breath together, in and out and in again.
“faster,” you whimpered. the bite of your heat was slowly setting in around the edges, setting new restlessness in your veins, demanding more.
your alpha delivered, her hands pulling your hips even closer against you as she sped her pace. she was deeper now, the head of her cock dragging deliciously against your inner walls with each thrust.
“oh...” she sighed your name, the shameless sound of your wetness and bodies meeting loud in the small bedroom.
you throbbed now, the gradual climax she had developed in you lifting into a peak that only reached higher and higher. nayeon seemed to be approaching hers as well, her speed faster and harder. the hint of an alpha possessiveness began to show now, her moans low and her rhythm more unforgiving. she chased her release as much as yours.
“nayeon-ah—“ you gasped, hands on her back as she leaned forward to press that much deeper inside. she cursed, overtaken and lost in you for this moment, pushing her knot inside you with a final thrust that had you crying out in surprise and brief pain.
the sensation of her emptying into you was what pushed you over the brink. you whimpered her name, for a moment your climaxes meeting each other in an  evolved tandem. you came until she had given you all of her herself, until you felt sated for the first time in months.
she lay on you, both of you breathless and lost in the sensation of a proper junction between an alpha and her omega.
nayeon was the first to speak after a moment.
“i shouldn’t have knotted you, i’m sorry.”
“no, i needed it,” you answered quickly, emphasizing your point by pressing her closer against you. the consequences were manageable, and you didn’t want to think about them for the time being. she hummed in satisfaction, scenting you again, brazen, carelessly.
im nayeon had never been shy about taking what was hers. why would you be any different?
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semischarmed · 4 years ago
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Detour
“Really Scott,” you say, as you run your fingers through your hair. “I don’t look familiar to you at all?” You take a mental picture of your high school tormentor’s face. Damn. ‘You’ve only gotten hotter these past few years haven’t you?’
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“Nah man, sorry” He states as he moves to close the door to his apartment. You give a slight rub to a small gold medallion and his body starts moving on it’s own. You stare at him with a cruel smile as he tries to wrestle control back of his body. Your face strains but you are able to force him to let you into his place. Scott, evidently, was smarter than he looks as you notice him take a mental note of your struggle and the medallion. You’re gonna have to be careful around him.
You have to admit, this is a lot tougher than you initially expected. Much like his body, man has a will of steel, and even with this necklace’s little power boost, you can only barely contain him. But you have the power of raw emotion coursing through you. Envy. Lust. Unlike Scottie over here, lady luck has not been kind to the past few years past high school. That all changed when you came across this medallion. A strange, mystical, wonderful medallion with strange, mystical, wonderful powers. As soon it came into your possession, you instantly knew the first person who would have the privilege of witnessing its power firsthand. Scott reclaimed a bit of power over himself.
“What the fuck dude! You got the wrong guy! I really don’t know who you are!” You have to hold back a bit of your hurt. All those years of agony and fear, and it doesn’t even register a blip to him. ‘Fuck it, worth it for what I’m about to get.’ With another rub of the medallion you force him to freeze.
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As you study his frame, still and glistening with a nervous sweat, you are overcome with a wave of lust- you can’t wait to possess the fuck out of this man. He’s only gotten bigger, beefier since the last time you’ve seen him. You are cut from your trance as you hear a soft “zzzz” sound.
His phone buzzes again and, rubbing your medallion, you force him to pull it out and unlock it for you. “Who is this?” You ask, as you take a closer look at the string of texts. “Almost back!” “Hey u wanna get some pizza tonight?” “Dude I gotta tell you about Sophie at the weights today.“
“I-It’s Alex, he’s my friend. He’s my best friend. We’re roommates. Also he’s coming back soon, so you should probably go. This-whatever the fuck this is man, I won’t tell anyone I promise. Just go” he states nervously. Try as you might, you can’t read if he’d genuinely let you go. Knowing the Scott you knew in high school, he’d probably beat you to a pulp as soon as you released your hold on him. Whatever. Not leaving anyway. You stare at more pictures of his friend from Scott’s social media. Fit, cute- hot even, easy on the eyes. Ok then, maybe a little detour is in order. 
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“I’m gonna give you a choice.” You state plainly, as you set his phone on the table. “And I know you remember who I am, so you can stop the act. You? Or Alex? Who’s it gonna be?” He probably thinks you’re gonna kill him. Not even close. If anything, he’s gonna be getting a new lif-
“Alex, Alex! Please dude, just leave me alone!” He says without hesitation. Damn. Cold-blooded. You smile with menacing compliance. 
“Alex it is.”
----
Minutes later, a sweaty Alex unlocks the door to his apartment, eager to get quick shower in and order some dinner. “Oh, uh, I didn’t realize we’d have guests”. 
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Alex smiles warmly at you and greets you, “Hey, I’m Alex, Scott’s roommate. Good to meet you!” He looks at his hand. “Sorry, I just got back from the gym, so I’d shake your hand, b-” “So you’re Alex! good to meet you too!” you cut him off by extending your hand, which he awkwardly shakes out of formality. You use this to take a sneak preview of your future vessel’s hands. Calloused, but soft. Thin, damp. Vascular. Good.
“Yeah, I’m an old friend of Scott’s. From high school,” you lie. “He said he had to grab something from the store, so he’ll probably be back in a bit.”
“Aww well, I’m sorry he’s been keeping you waiting” Alex gives a warm smile. “He’s usually pretty good at this kind of stuff, so I’m sure he had a good reason. Do you want like a water or something?” 
He starts to head to the kitchen. You stifle a moan as you quickly stick your hand in your pants and smear his gym sweat all over your dick. Sneak preview. 
As he fashions himself a glass of water and glances back as you quickly take your hands out your pants before he notices. “Oh no, no! I’m alright! Thank you for the offer though!” you beam back. Close call.
‘Alex is such a nice, stand up guy’ You wonder to yourself, ‘why is he friends with that piece of shit’
“I’ve known Scott since college, so a little less than you, haha” he adds, as if hearing your mental conversation. “He always keeps it real and he’s even been helping me get toned”. He smiles and does a small bicep flex to demonstrate -hot- before he ravenously gulps down the entire glass of water and sets it down.
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‘Fuck yeah, I can’t wait to be the one going down that tube’ you think, as you bite your lip. Alex starts to head your way. You then pick up on his scent, he smells clean- probably his cologne or deodorant. Mountains. Mint. Fresh rain. He’s like a breath of fresh air. Then the undercurrent of his scent hits. Raw, primal, alpha as fuck. You’re a bit surprised. Such a kind, clean cut guy and he apparently naturally smells like a filthy, raunchy, putrid motherfucker. You can hardly control yourself as you try to imagine where it’s coming from. Pits, ass, feet, ball sweat, all of the above?- wherever the fuck it’s coming from, it’s intoxicating. You smile in the joy that a little piece of you, even if it was just the dick that you rubbed his hand sweat all over, now smells like a diluted Alex. You struggle as you adjust your growing hard on in proximity to the pheromone bomb that is Alex.
Suddenly, Alex’s phone buzzes. You steal a glance at the sender. It’s Scott.
“Hey man, come to my room, now. We need to fucking talk. I have no idea who he is. Make sure he stays where he is. He doesn’t know I’m here .” Alex stares at his phone, a little perplexed, while you continue to stare at this fine, fine piece of ass in front of you. He gives a quick glance your way, to which you respond with a smile. 
“Hey, uh, make yourself at home, ok? Im sure Scott’s coming back soon. I, uh, I gotta take care of something real quick with our, um, other roommate.” There’s only two bedrooms and he’s a horrible liar, but you still find it a little endearing. “Anyway, it was nice to meet you, maybe we can hang out sometime. Any friend of Scott is a friend of mine!“ he tells you kindly as you swoon. ‘Oh Alex we’re about to be much, much closer than friends. Closer than you can possibly imagine’.
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“Hey dude, uh, so Scott’s friend is waiting for you in the living room. Also whatever this is, can it wait? I kinda have to showe-“ Alex cuts himself off as he sees Scott slumped over, tied up to his desk chair with his own dirty clothes in a neat little bow. “What the fuck!?! Scott! are you ok?” Alex rushes over to help his friend.
“So, I gotta say, Scott, you made a great choice sacrificing him to save yourself. Alex is definitely a catch.” You say from the doorway. Alex quickly looks your way in horror as his best friend breaks free from his fake restraints and pulls him into an embrace.
Alex tries to squirm free from Scott’s grip, as you make Scott say the truth to his friend. “He made me choose, between you and me. I chose you.”
“T-This is a joke, right? Scott?” Scott starts to force him into his desk chair. “Cmon man!” Alex pleads, as an emotionless Scott ties him to the desk chair.
“Some best friend” you chuckle, as you stroke Scott’s cheek and wipe away a stray tear -you can feel his revulsion internally- “he sold you out without a second thought”. You start to undress his lower half, starting with his gym shoes. Fuck it was potent. “Don’t worry, I’ll never do that to us.” You peel away his sweat soaked socks and take another whiff. Alex sits in confusion, probably speechless at what had just transpired.
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“Let’s make a deal” you say with a chuckle. “I’ll show you a taste of me if you show me a taste of you.” Without waiting for a response, you start by kneeling down sucking on his scummy toes. Sour. Just how you like it. He’s still squirming in his bonds a little. “Step on me,” you say, as you smash your face to his sweaty feet over and over again, simulating him stepping on you. You catch a little movement in his crotch area. ‘Is he enjoying this?’ you ask, as you continue up Alex’s legs. You look back to make sure Scott is still in your control. He stands frozen, emotionless, but with a deep hatred in his eyes, twitching occasionally in his attempt to break free. You make him face Alex and force him to lift the corner of his tank top to give Alex a little tease, while you continue with your little treasure hunt.
You then peel away his compression shorts to reveal your prize. A concentrated bloom of Alex’s pheromones hit you. Ecstasy. You almost pass out on the spot. ‘Holy shit’. You can't control yourself as bury your head and greedily rub your face in his sweaty crotch. Alex is eerily quiet.
Rubbing the medallion, you issue your next command. You’re gonna need to divert a little magic to making this work, so you release some control of Scott as emotion and shouting return to him. It takes a minute or two but you’re able to get your bodies properly primed fro the next stage. You notice Alex shiver from a slight tingle in his body, while Scott continues his barrage of insults your way. “Shut up,” you command. His lips quiver and then shut. “Scottie, come tell Alex what his best friend is gonna do to him.”
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Alex again looks at Scott with a pleading face as a twitching, emotionless Scott continues: “Alex, I’m gonna stuff you full of himm- full of my Ma,” you wince. Strong and stubborn as ever, you can’t even get him to call you master. “Man you’re gonna love it. I sold you out to save myself. Didn’t even have to think about it. Just like that.” You’re getting a little better at controlling his movements. “Now I’m gonna be the one to make sure I put all of him inside you” Scott continues, “I-I can’t wait to see him wear you like a s-suit, parading you around, s-swimming in your skin and no one will ever know. I can’t wait to see the new you, w-with a little fag pilot tucked safe inside, pulling on your strings, speaking for you, thinking for you, loving for you” Scott finishes with an unsettling, wide grin that you force him into. 
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Emotion and control rush back to Scott’s face. “Alex...” he states in an apologetic tone, but Alex doesn’t even look him in eye. Again, off the corner of your eye, you can’t help but notice a ghost of a smile on his face before it returns to its sullen look.
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“Ok, ok, enough you two. Let’s go put on a good show for our best friend Scottie”.
-End Part 1-
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butwhyduh · 4 years ago
Note
Since you wrote Christmas with tha Bois are you planning on writing a New Years Eve fics too 🎇🎉?
*insert surprised pikachu meme*
now I am (!!!)
They are all required to go to a Wayne gala that Bruce has thrown since before he took Dick in as a ward. It’s important. So of course, I wanna show what kind of suits they would wear too. (Indulge me lmao) [none of these images are sensitive. Tumblr is an idiot]
Tim
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Okay I get that you wouldn’t think high strung proper Tim Drake Wayne , Mr CEO, would were a pretty casual suit. But he wears a suit everyday and by golly, he isn’t wearing a tie for New Years freakin Eve. It’s something different and he can relax. And he’s so tired of black. Plus the blue brings brings out the color in his eyes.
—————
He adjusted the collar of his suit. He always wore a nice suit to work. But this was for a gala. The tie just wouldn’t lay flat. You walked up behind him and pulled the offensive fabric off and tossed it on the bed. He moved to protest but you started unbuttoning his collar.
“Okay,” he said with a slow smirk. “But it’ll have to be quick.”
“I’m just fixing your shirt,” you said rolling your eyes. “I’m not messing my makeup up before a gala. That looks nicer. I never see you relaxed,” you said leaving your hands on his chest longer than necessary.
“I relax sometimes. I’m relaxing tonight. With you,” he said turning to give you a quick kiss. You smiled and he took a look at your outfit. “I’ll have to keep my eye peeled though. You’re going to attract a lot of attention in that.”
“Too bad I’m already dating a man they couldn’t possibly compete with. Come on, lover boy,” you said and he took your hand before going downstairs.
It was always stressful to first go to a gala. Tim was moderately famous as Bruce Wayne’s heir, heir to the Drake family fortune, and the acting CEO of Wayne Enterprise. Luckily this was very boring to most young people and his pictures were in a small section of the business page of the papers rather than like Dick Grayson being splashed all over the lifestyle section like a celebrity. But cameras flashing as you walked down stairs in heels was terrifying. Tim was the only one to notice as you gripped his arm like a vice each time.
You could usually smile and drink champagne as Tim talked shop with the old men he worked with or young men who were trying to climb the business ladder. Tim’s fingers made idle circles in your hand or on your back as he talked. He was also taking glances at you in you outfit all evening.
Only when he was desperate for a break would he ask you to dance. Tim was a good dancer. He had been taught at an early age. But he was not a natural and he didn’t want you bothered with more photos. You insisted after a full hour of talking about some sort of quarterly investment opportunity that he take you to the dance floor.
“Dance with me, Timmy,” you asked quietly in a lull in the conversation. It was almost midnight anyways. He smiled at you before looking back at the men.
“Excuse us,” Tim said before letting you lead him to the floor. He gently held your waist and you wrapped your arms around his neck. The song was fairly slow so you barely danced more than a sway. That was fine. You were more interested in staring in to his ocean eyes than cutting a rug.
“Sorry if it’s been incredibly boring,” Tim said. “You’d probably rather be doing anything else.”
“Dancing is nice. Seeing you more than 5 minutes is nice,” you said.
“Speaking of 5 minutes, it’s 5 minutes until midnight.”
“No more work talk tonight. Just be with me,” you pleaded softly. Tim frowned for a second before pulling you closer.
“I can do that. All yours tonight. I’ll just punch anyone who tries to talk business to me,” he said.
“Good enthusiasm. Terrible plan. Sweet though,” you said kissing his cheek. He smiled.
“Or we could just leave right after New Years,” Tim said with a wiggle of his brows. You giggled.
“Better plan.”
Bruce had gotten on the stage and the music stopped. You didn’t let Tim go. As they counted down to midnight, you and Tim gazed at each other.
3-2-1
🎆🎇
You leaned your face up and kissed him. Tim held your waist tighter and your wrapped your fingers up in his soft black hair. After just a few seconds you pulled back and smiled at him.
“Happy New Years, sunshine,” he said.
“Happy New Years, Duckie.”
“Let’s get out of here before they see us leave,” he suggested. The rest of the night was spent in his room and you were so glad for the loud fireworks to cover any noise you might have made.
Dick
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Dick has been to 714 galas. He’s an expert. He’s expected to play the handsome charming eldest son. Wearing a beautiful suit is half the battle. Not to mention, he kinda likes showing off a little. It’s New Years. And the blue and grey bring out the color in his eyes so well.
———————————
Dick barely got in the door before flopping on the bed with his detective uniform still on. You sat on the edge of your bed, already in hair, dress, and makeup, and reached over to rub his shoulders. He groaned softly.
Barely off of work and already having to change into a suit for a family event. Dick needed a day off. Badly. He had the next 3 days off of work and he just had to deal with this night. No, he needed to be positive. You hadn’t done anything and he didn’t want to ruin New Years Eve.
You pushed your palm into a knot on his shoulder. He all but moaned. “Thank you, baby,” he said. “It’s these stupid cases. They have been driving me- baby,” Dick said turning to look and taking you in. “You look good.”
You smiled and giggled. “You think?”
“Always, but this? Wowza,” he said laughing. “Im going be showing off the prettiest girl at the ball,” Dick said sing song. You rolled your eyes with a grin. His compliments were usually over the top.
“Yeah, yeah. Not likely. You need to get dressed or I’m going to be very fancy for no reason,” you said and he hopped up. Dick was overworked but he always was. In record time he was dressed.
“Do you want to drive,” he asked hopefully. A quick 30 minute nap would be awesome.
“I can’t drive the Porsche since it’s stick,” you admitted.
“Well in that case, I’m teaching you soon. But not tonight. You gotta learn how to drive my car,” Dick said and you resisted the urge to roll your eyes. You added that to the list of skills he thought completely necessary that hardly anyone could do anymore. Could you even buy a new standard transmission car?
“Sure, hun. Let’s get going before we’re late,” you said kissing his cheek. You straightened his pocket square and you were both out the door.
“-and then you push the clutch. Right here,” he pointed at the floorboard as he drove.
“Not tonight. We can do this some other time. And if we don’t get there, it’s fine,” you said evasively.
“Ever? It’s important to be able to drive any kind of car and if it’s just you and the Porsche,” Dick said with a frown. You could see a contingency plan forming in his head.
“I very much doubt there will be a situation where I have to drive your car,” you said with a shrug.
“I’d rather plan for it,” Dick said and you dropped it. It was like a security blanket for him to plan for anything.
Walking into a gala was exciting and nerve racking. Dick was extremely popular back in Gotham and it was honestly weird as he was normal back in Bludhaven. Dick was the perfect gentleman and made sure you felt comfortable and safe when the cameras flashed. You smiled and ignored whatever anyone said about you. It could be mean with jealousy. You were with him for his money, you were just arm candy, and you weren’t that pretty. The first time had hurt pretty badly. Now you had a new ring on your hand and you felt almost as nervous as your first gala. One through the door to the ballroom, you relaxed.
“Are you okay? You looked really nervous,” Dick said and you grimaced. That sounds like nice pictures.
“Just a little,” you said subconsciously playing with your ring. Dick, of course, noticed right away.
“What’s wrong? Do you not want the ring? Or the engagement,” he asked quietly and it broke your heart that he was even worried about it. His big blue eyes were wide with worry.
“Not at all,” you said grabbing his shoulder. “I just don’t like how they talk. I’m very happy. And I love the ring. It’s beautiful.”
Dick’s frown turned to a pleased smile. “Good. Because that was my mom’s ring.”
“Dick! You gave me a family heirloom without mentioning it? That makes it twice as special,” you said shocked. “Thats so sweet of you.”
You leaned up and kissed him on the cheek. “I love it. But if you give me something that important again without telling me, I’ll beat you,” you whispered in his ear and he laughed.
“Let’s dance,” Dick said. He pulled you to the dance floor. He was the best dancer out of all of the Wayne children and possibly better than Bruce. He had been dancing since he could walk. His parents were performers and taught him many dance styles. Bruce also insisted that all the children knowing all the common dances they would need to know at a gala.
Keeping up with Dick was the biggest issues with dancing. He could dance quick dances for hours and you had to remind him that not everyone spent hours a day training and fighting. At the moment you had insisted on stopping to get a drink. You practically pounded a water bottle while he sipped on some punch.
“Kinda floral. Not bad. Little sweet,” he said.
“It’s not alcoholic, is it?”
“I don’t think so. It’s just one glass,” Dick said. “I’ll be fine to drive later.”
“No. It’s just that Damian and his girlfriend have a cup each,” you said motioning over to them.
“It’s fine. They wouldn’t give them alcohol,” Dick said and you relaxed. Of course not. That would be crazy to give kids alcohol.
“Let’s sit down. My feet are getting a little tired,” you said with a wince. He nodded and you sat at a table by the dance floor. As if Dick had put out a sign, a bunch of people flocked over to talk to him.
Somehow a plate of small snacks ended up in front of you, probably Alfred. You ate a little while he played the philanthropist son of Bruce Wayne. It was actually really nice to be ignored.
Until it wasn’t.
An older Wayne investor brought a woman over as his ‘date.’ She instantly latched on to Dick and started flirting with him. Her hand kept touching his arms and shoulders. You were getting mad but this wasn’t a surprise. People acted like he was someone they could grope and touch without consequences.
Finally it was too much and you cleared your throat. She looked at you in disgust before going back to flirting with Dick.
“Can you give my fiancé some space,” you asked politely as you could. Her eyes raked over your body.
“He could do so much better than some poor trash like you in a second rate dress. Not even that ugly little ring could change that,” she said nastily. You gasped.
“Okay we’re leaving,” Dick said standing up. The woman had to back away from him. His jaw was clenched in controlled anger. He had a temper and this wasn’t the time to lose it.
You stood up and hissed as your shoes cut into your feet worse than when you had been wearing them all night. Great, you couldn’t even wear heels in front of her. She laughed. Dick simply picked you up bridal style and carried you out of the ballroom and upstairs to his old bedroom. He sat you on the bed gently.
You knew that she was just a vapid socialite but it did hurt. She had pretty accurately attacked your insecurities and you blinked to prevent yourself from crying.
“Baby,” Dick said bending to a crouch in front of you. “Don’t think anything about what she said. She’s just jealous. Not worth your time.”
“She’s not wrong though. I’m just a poor kid trying to fit in in Wayne freaking Manor,” you said wiping your face. Stupid tears.
“And I’m just a circus kid. Don’t forget that,” Dick said sitting beside you. He pulled you into a hug. “Not a single damn bit of that matters. It’s almost midnight in a minute. Do you want to go back downstairs?”
“Not a chance,” you said with a dry smile.
“I figure. We have a better view anyways,” he said opening the curtains. You could vaguely hear the noise downstairs.
3-2-1
🎆🎇
“Happy New Years, baby,” Dick said giving you a kiss. He wiped the tears from your cheek.
“Happy New Years. Sorry I’m all teary,” you said.
“Nope. Don’t be sorry. My new New Years resolution is to make you smile,” he said with a devious look. His fingers suddenly attacked your sides and pulled laughter from you. He pushed you to the bed in his attack.
“Dick! Okay! Quit!” You shrieked with laughter. He stopped his hands and leaned over you.
“Alright. I quit. But since we’re alone. Wanna ring in the New Years the right way,” he asked with a smirk. You grinned back.
“Got any ideas on how to do that?” You asked back.
“So many. Baby, so many,” before kissing you. Fireworks sounded in the background.
Damian
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(Older 16 yr old) Damian is literally the son of Batman. He’s going to dress like it. Nice and formal and expensive. It was like a form of armor. Homeboy looks like a million bucks. His watch might be. And if a burgundy turtleneck A accents his well defined pecs, B shows the gold in his tan skin, and C the gorgeous green in his eyes, he ain’t complaining.
“Beloved,” Damian said pulling on his jacket. “Come out,” he said in a sing song voice that would have been completely foreign to hear to anyone else but you.
You flushed as you came out. His jaw dropped before he quickly straightened his face. He’d taken the risk of buying you a dress for the party. He’d seen Bruce do it for women all the time. It was practically his calling card. Even Dick had done it a few times. But this was a first for Damian.
“You look very nice. Beautiful,” he said quietly looking away at his cuff links. “Are you ready to go downstairs?”
“Just my shoes,” you said, trying to slip them on and almost falling over. Damian quickly grabbed your waist.
“I got you. I can put them on,” he said kneeling to the ground. He hadn’t meant anything besides efficiency with his offer. But as he slid your foot into a heel and strapped it across your ankle, it felt far more intimate. His hand held your calf a little longer than necessary before switching to the other foot. This side had a slit up to your thigh and he could see your bare leg up close. Damian gulped before attaching the shoe. He quickly stood up and cleared his throat.
“Are you ready now?”
You nodded. He offered his arm and you went downstairs. Cameras flashed for just a few minutes before Damian skillfully steered you away from them. His father would kill any pictures of you before they got to the papers but Damian knew how much you hated them.
“Dance with me?” You asked and he happily complied. He had been trained in several dance styles and was good at it. He also enjoyed the way you would smile when he would spin you. If it made his beloved happy, he was happy. It attracted a little attention. Bruce Wayne’s teenage son and his date could dance with skill. This too was only viewable in person.
“Let’s get a drink,” Damian said pulling you to the refreshments. You were out of breath but happy and followed him. There was suppose to be people handling the drinks but there were so many people. Damian pushed through and grabbed two drinks and handed one to you.
“Let’s find a table,” you said. As always, Damian pulled you along to a secluded corner close to the door to the garden. Cold air and little whiffs of cigarette smoke swirled around but at least you weren’t in the overheated body filled floor anymore.
You sat and drank at your punch. It was heavily sweetened and floral. It was refreshing and... warm. You waved at yourself.
“Is it hot in here to you?” You asked Damian.
“Want to go for a walk outside? It’s cooler out there,” he suggested. Damian took your arm again and you walked out the door into the garden. A stone path lined little beds of delicate plants. Topiaries lined the path. Small solar lights and the full moon lit the garden. There were a few people walking but not many.
Damian looked so handsome. Long dark lashes frames his bright green eyes. His skin almost glistened with silver light of the moon. He bent and plucked a flower from a bush. Damian tucked it behind you ear with a little smile.
“The prettiest rose in all the garden,” he said and you smiled shyly.
“I don’t think that’s actually a rose though,” you said and he laughed. A rare occurrence.
“It’s not. But I was talking about you. May I kiss you,” he said lightly touching the side of your neck with his hand. You nodded and he leaned down. You closed your eyes and his lips brushed against yours. You pressed a hand against his chest.
Damian’s hand slid to the back of your neck to hold you as he pressed harder against your mouth. His tongue slipped in your mouth and you made the softest whimpering sound. Damian’s eyes flew open and he almost froze. That was new and he could get used to the pretty sound.
You kissed like this for a little while. Damian’s hand slid down to hold your waist when he noticed you shivered. He pulled back.
“Beloved, are you cold,” he asked, cursing himself. Of course, you were cold wearing a thin dress while he was in a full suit. He quickly pulled off his jacket and put it around your shoulders.
“Just a little. It’s fine,” you protested. He insisted on sliding your arms in the sleeves and button the jacket.
“Let’s go in. It’s close to midnight anyways,” Damian said giving you one last kiss.
3-2-1
🎇🎆
“Happy New Years beloved,” he said with a kiss. Damian had grabbed another two glasses of punch and you two touched them in cheers.
“No sir,” Alfred said sternly, taking the glasses from your hands. “No alcohol for either of you. There is juice on the other side of the table.”
You waited until Alfred walked away before laughing. “They should have labeled that better.”
“That explains why it felt overly warm in here earlier,” Damian said thoughtfully.
The music had changed to overly sappy and people were kissing and dancing far too close. They were feeling the effects of the alcohol they had been drinking all night. Damian looked at them in disgust.
“Want to go upstairs,” he asked. You quickly looked at him. “Not like that. We can watch a movie or something, anything away from this.”
“Sounds great,” you said and you both left.
Jason
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I’m fairly certain I’ve seen him in a suit like this in the comics. I considered him saying FU to Bruce and showing up in boots and black leather jacket. But Jason knows he looks good in red. And he’d probably get a kick out of wearing one of his suits he wore as Red Hood to a fucking gala. Bruce would know.
—————————
“Princess, if you make me wait any longer I’ll kick down the door and physically carry you to the damn party,” Jason said with no malice in his voice. You opened the bathroom door.
“Not all of us look good without a little work,” you said playfully tapping his chest. You yanked his tie straight with a little more force than needed.
“I’d have to disagree, doll. I’d honestly prefer you in nothing,” he said with a smirk. You rolled your eyes.
“How does it look?” You said with a twirl.
“Like a million bucks. That ass. Let’s skip the party and-“
“No no no. Let’s get going. You can be handsy later,” you said grabbing your purse.
“Promise,” he asked as you both left. The roads weren’t too bad with ice and in fact, it was going to be a rare dry night in Gotham.
Jason didn’t do pictures. He hated them and so you both parked in the servant entrance and walked in a side door. It didn’t matter. The Manor was beautiful no matter how you looked at it. And being a poor kid from Gotham, you couldn’t believe you were actually at a party in Wayne freaking Manor.
“Don’t be nervous. It’s just a bunch of shitty rich people in pretty walls. They aren’t any better than us. Hell, worth half of you, sweetheart. Let’s get a drink,” he said pulling you to the drink table. It was pretty packed but he muscled through to the front. He got your preferred drink. “And a whiskey on the rocks.”
“Don’t get drunk,” you whispered to him. “I won’t sleep with you drunk.”
“With a finger of water,” Jason added to the bartender who nodded.
“Good save,” you said turning to look at the floor. You sipped your drink and people watched.
Dick and his date were dancing some quick steps in the middle of the floor. No surprise there. Tim was talking to boring business men and his poor date looked absolutely bored on her feet. Alfred was watching Damian and his date from the corner of his eyes whereas Damian seemed completely oblivious with his eyes on her all night. And Bruce was currently heavily flirting with a woman who literally meowed at him. You resisted the urge to gag and turned back to Jason.
“Wanna dance,” Jason asked casually watching the floor. But you knew he wanted to dance because he asked.
“Yeah,” you said grabbing his hand. He pulled to to the floor. Jason was also trained to dance as all the Wayne boys had been. But he was probably the worst dancer out of all of them. His parents had never taught him anything as nice as dancing and he’d only lived with Bruce for a few years before the whole Joker thing. But Jason was a natural athlete and his dancing was still pretty darn good.
The dance was a bit slower than the one Dick and his date had been dancing to earlier. Jason held one hand on your waist and the other stayed in your hand. His dancing was visibly polite and innocent. The words he whispered in your ear were far from.
“Is it hard being the hottest woman here? This dress on your ass is fucking delicious,” he whispered and you flushed at his words. “I can’t wait to fuck you in it later.”
He really enjoyed saying things that were completely naughty in public where you could do nothing about it. But you knew that if he kept it up, you’d be finding a spare room before New Years even came. And you didn’t want to miss the fireworks again this year.
As the song ended, and you thoroughly turned on and scandalized, you asked him to walk in the garden with you. Lover boy needed something to cool him down.
“Sure, Princess,” he said snagging 2 glasses of punch on the way out. You both walked between the flower beds and he told you stories of things that had happened there. “And that’s when Dick accidentally cut the top foot off of this bush. Alfred had him scrubbing floors for a month,” Jason said with a laugh. “It was so bad that there is still a rule of no swords in the garden. Damian hates it.”
“I bet he does. But he could probably destroy the entire garden with a pocket knife,” you said with a laugh. Jason suddenly pulled you to the side with a hush. He motioned over a ways.
“Speaking of the kid, look over there,” Jason whispered. You looked over to see Damian making out with a girl his age. It was so weird to see him being so sweet. “I didn’t know he felt human emotion, much less find someone his age to makeout with.”
“They could have said that about you a few years ago,” you said slyly.
“Yeah, point taken. Want the best view of the fireworks?” Jason said.
“Where?”
“Top of the roof.”
You blanched at the idea. “No thanks. I choose life.”
“It’s safe. There’s a ladder and everything,” Jason said hugging you from behind. “Best view in the house. And if not, dinners on me.”
“Jay, you get the check every time,” you reminded him. He chuckled.
“Maybe I’m just trying to get a pretty girl alone to give her a kiss,” Jason said pulling you to the roof. You flushed. “Unlike demon boy making out in the garden. I have class.”
“You’re a classy lady. Show me the way before I change my mind,” you said. He took you to a ladder over the library. You pulled off your heels and started climbing.
“Don’t worry I’ll catch you you if you fall Princess. I’m right behind you. Did I mention your ass in this dress? I kinda have the perfect view,” he said. You rolled your eyes before throwing your leg over the side of the roof. Jason quickly followed you.
“Here, wear my jacket,” Jason said throwing the red blazer over your shoulder.
“Oo my knife now,” you said feeling in his pocket and pulling out a sizable switchblade.
“I forgot to take it out of there. I wouldn’t touch it too much,” Jason said taking it out of your hands with a grimace. You gave him a look.
“That’s incredibly gross. Seriously. Do I even want to know?”
“Not really. Look at the stars. You can see them through the shitty Gotham sky,” Jason said sitting on a box. He pulled you into his lap and you were grateful as it was really quite cold. You could see some stars and you leaned your back against his chest and looked up at the heavens for a few minutes.
The music stopped downstairs. It must be almost midnight. You couldn’t understand but you heard Bruce talk over a mic. Then everyone started counting.
3–2-1
🎇🎆
“Happy New Years, Jaybird,” you said turning your head and holding Jason’s jaw. You leaned your head up and gave him a kiss. He held you close and you made out until the sound of a firework had you jumping. You laughed before turning to look. The roof really did have the best view.
After a few minutes of watching the fireworks you heard some lewd noises. Jason looked over at a window near your spot.
“Let’s get the fuck out of here,” he said with a disgusted look. “That’s fucking Tim’s room and the sound of him getting laid is literally the last thing I want. What I do want is to take a bite out of that ass I’ve been looking at all night.”
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gaysails · 2 years ago
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as I'm rewatching I'm definitely seeing your point about the breakup making sense for max's character lol. right now (s2e3) i am just so bothered by the time wasted w this "vane is in the fort" drama, imo seems like a communication issue btwn flint and eleanor. im remembering why i skipped over parts the first time i watched ahaha... maybe it sets the stage for more things to come? also ofc no obligation to respond, as im gonna continue to have thoughts as i watch and i dont want to spam you 👍
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everything in black sails has consequences welcome to hell. I know the feeling I do tend to skip over certain vane scenes (having put in my time by already watching every single frame of the show like at least 10x each) it's so hard for me to care about his whole deal. flint and eleanor's communication issues are delicious though as always it comes back to how well can one person know another and what happens to make you realize you don't know them nearly as well as you thought... also how over the course of s2 eleanor is another partner who flint gradually loses while he becomes gradually more dependent on the partnership with silver. chef's kiss. once you start peeling the show like an onion the layers never stop.
(re: your last point tbh I don't think max's timing makes much difference in this scenario. it's like mr scott says in 1.08 that the trouble was going to happen anyway with or without the schedule... the relationship between max and eleanor was unequal from the beginning on multiple levels. built on sand one might even say!! if the tragedy could have happened any other way it wouldn't be a tragedy ykwim)
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sooniesspot · 3 years ago
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Fluff Drabbles
☁️ Yoongi Fluff ☁️
warnings: poetically implied smut, slight Angst. Longing. Lil sprinkle of heartache and hopelessness.
word count 2.4k
A/N: Im purely publishing this on the notion that when sending this to my bestie @countingyoongis it made her "flip the soul she doesn't have" thought that was good enough reason. Anyways, enjoy!
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“I’ll be here, waiting.” 
Maybe it was the way you watched the world go by. Maybe it was the way you missed your family. A life constantly on the road never faired well for you. Sure, for him a decade on the road doing a job he loved with his best friends, never seemed to phase him. But countless birthdays and Christmases were missed, your family opening presents without you. You missed hearing your brothers argue about making your mother her tea. Your mothers laugh at the way your family dog would spin in circles; excitement racing through their body. Your friends who yearned for your company. Dissipated into the background that was your blurry life, travelling the world with the love of your life. 
You felt empty when you were alone lately. Finding little joy in the things you used to. Plants withered and games unplayed; kept in boxes for you to deal with another time. The moments spent with him were the best moments of your life. The realest moments you could ask for. Sleepy flights where he would curl up into your side, cheeks rising like bread and heavy eyes as he mumbled incoherently to you. Moments you watched him on stage, giving his all. Even after injuries, falls, criticisms. You loved him all the while. 
Even in the moments of early morning, before the sun graced the sky, you’d sit in silence, alone with your thoughts. Unable to find sleep while your boyfriend was counting sheep; mouth slightly agape with the odd snore. Sleeping in the foetal position as steadily moving hands without rhythm or agenda; fumbled through the sheets to find you. Interrupting your thoughts. You watching the world go by through a microscopic lens. Before he was pulling you against him and lulling you to a welcomed sleep.
Tours of Europe. Sight seeing under hidden cloak of masks and guards. The Eiffel Tower standing in prominence around a large garden park. Unable to hold him like you wanted to or to take that cliché photo of a stolen kiss in the foreground. The Temple of Zeus, looking out over the mountain top to the streets of Athens below at sunset. Casting oranges, purples and golds into the sky. Spending the moment together, but not how you wanted. Not how you craved. Walking the streets of Amsterdam, admiring the flowing water of the river Amstel. Bicycles with tinkling bells that adorned your ears. Quiet. Quaint. Light touches and feeble displays of watered-down affection. Pretending to be, nothing but friends. It was hard. There was no doubt. Being the secret girlfriend of one of the most famous K-pop idols in the world was gruelling; heart wrenching. Wanting just to be. Without stolen glances or whispers. To be with one another, regardless of consequence. 
But in the night, when pretence of ‘just friends’ was disregarded; Thrown within piles of discarded clothes. He would hold you in exhilarating ways. Making your heart stop and run as if in tandem. On repeat. Forever. Light touches no longer feather like as strong hands smoothed hair from your face and lips connected with yours in passion so fierce your lips would pray to bleed. Pray to crumble apart under the sheer pressure. The weight of his own, cracked; against yours. Wanton and excruciating. Muffled groans of your name whittled into your skin as you would cry for him. In ways one could only imagine. Pressed against you so your skin would suffocate in his own. Hands held with dedicated influence as bodies mould as one. 
But after all was done. Sweat cold to the touch as tangles of limbs tangled their way into crisp white hotel sheets instead. Held in the moment. Not wanting to let you go. Hands spearing through your hair as eyes glassy, stared deep into your soul. No words were uttered, only breath shared. Moments like this is what you cherished. Wistfulness overwhelming you. There was nowhere else in the world you would rather be. From the deepest depths of your heart, your soul belonged to him and him only. Though your mind; a woeful friend in your darkest moments and a constant shadow in joy, would often voice its unwanted thoughts of whether this was enough. Whether it was enough to live happily with him, but irrevocably without him. Happily in secret.  But were you happy?
Never one to brandish your personal life on the highest billboards. A secret life seemed fine to you. But as time went on and appreciation was questioned. Affection shunted into the darkness. Your thoughts wandered into the unholy depths of your hell. A rabbit warren of twists and tunnels. Doubt. Jealousy. Questions of Self-worth. These thoughts followed you to every concert, as he would look out to see thousands of adoring fans. A gloomy cloud that hung over you. Over every cup of coffee, a faltering smile. Clawing at your chest in small bursts as you found yourself awake. Again. Silence for everyone but you as the warren would flood with hopelessness. 
It was then he found you that morning. Light not even breaching the horizon as you sat, gazing into nothingness. The void that was your heart. Wholly consumed by him and the fear of losing him. The fear of him drifting away like the cherry blossoms floating along the river Amstel. A cursory touch found your restless form in the early hours. An incoherent mumble of your name as sleep filled eyes fluttered open delicately to look vacantly at you. Engaged with the sudden knowledge of your dazed state. 
“Tink.” He mumbled. Affectionate nickname travelling through sheets to greet your troubled form.  
“You’re awake?” he would ask.
You hummed non committedly as he shuffled closer to you. Hands on your thigh soothingly. In comfort as his dreary eyes assessed you. Planting one kiss on your thigh. Then a second. The lip-smacking sound donned with nothing but tenderness and contentment.
“What’s up? Tell me.” 
No pretences could be grasped at here. No excuses as to why you looked sullenly into his eyes, shaking with contained emotions. He grabbed your small hand in his, squeezing it reassuringly; urging you to go on. You mustered every bit of strength within you to ask the question that toppled from your lips moments later and once you had, you realised everything would be brought to light and you could no longer hide in the shadows; the deepest caverns of your desires. 
“Do you love me?” 
Silence befell the room, his brows furrowed as he forced himself to sit up in front of you. Hand still in yours, unwavering; constant. A reminder of your tether to him. 
“Of course I do, you know I love you. More than anything.” He mumbled, his hand smoothing over your messed head of hair. 
Fingers placed on your jaw as his thumb soothed circles on your cheek. A kiss placed delicately, full of purpose on your forehead. Looking back into your hooded eyes as he ran his other thumb along your knuckles. Only your breathing could be heard within the room. Both calm and collected although, in the way that he looked at you, mirroring your upset. You felt yourself gasping for breath.
“Do you not feel loved?” 
The words crumbled your refrain from showing your emotions. A rogue tear had slipped from your eye and he effortlessly caught it with the pad of his thumb. A small whimper sounded from your lips before you were enveloped into his arms. No words said as he held you. Held you until the world stopped spinning and everything stopped being overwhelming. Your face resting in the crook of his neck, his scent that brought you solace. Peeled oranges and coffee on a rainy Sunday morning. Keeping you calm as he held you in silence. His grip tight on you as if you would slip away, never to be found again. 
A mumble of words. “I’m here. I’ll always be here. I’m so sorry.” 
Silence. 
“Please stay.” 
Your heart broke at hearing his words. Hearing his silent worry for you. The same worry you had been holding in for months. Lingering at every grace of his hand. Every kiss. Would it be the last time you would feel his lips against yours? The last touch? The last time you’d see his endearing smile; all gums and not much else. All the while he felt the same. Fleeting glances your way to make sure you were still with him. By his side. Would it be the last time he could run his fingers through your hair? The last kiss pressed to your skin in the dark of the night? He craved all that was you in every waking moment. In his sleep he would hold you close to him like his most prized possession. He pushed everyone away apart from the boys and you. You stayed. You stayed for him. Now he felt everything falling apart. 
Never hearing your reply, just broken sobs as he could feel tears threaten to spill from his own eyes. Finally parting from you. He gazed into your eyes, puffy and sad from crying. Something he had only seen you do once before. 
“I don’t know.” 
He felt his world cave in. was it not enough anymore? Just to love you? In any way that he could? In that moment he cursed his job for not letting you be. For you both to just be, in love. Happily. Healthily. Openly. He knew how much it hurt to never hold hands in public. Confined to closed hotel rooms and dark alleyways where he would steal a kiss. A need he had been carrying with him the whole day. Smiling as he would finally feel your lips against his. Bracing you against an old brick wall. Unjudging and unyielding like his love. 
“I miss my home. My family. My friends” You began to stutter, feeling your emotions drown you as you tried to swim your way to the surface for breath. 
“Yoongi, I love you but I don’t think I can love you in secret anymore. Not when I’m on my own.” 
He heard your heartfelt words wretch through his chest. Like a sincere punch straight to his gut. Precise but untamed. Thoughts rushed to mind in all the ways he could keep you here, with him. Get you to stay. Every idea falling flat as he looked at your face. Now tear stained cheeks and furrowed brows. Flushed and hopeless. Not knowing where else to turn. Being forced into a decision you never wanted to make.
“Okay...I love you, but okay.”  He said solemnly, admitting defeat. 
His words shocked you, just like that, it was over? He saw the shock and sudden hurt on your face before he continued; practically straddling you now as he pressed both of his hands to cup your face.
“Don’t think for 1 second I’m letting you go that easily. I fucking love you and I can’t risk losing you.” He nuzzled his nose against yours before kissing away your tears. Kissing your closed eyelids before kissing your temples then down to your nose. Finally landing a firm solidifying kiss on your lips.
“I’ll let you go on 1 condition.” He looked into your eyes. Searching for something in them. Something to soothe his aching heart. 
Your eyes fluttered to meet his, no more than a couple of inches away. Eyes silently urging him to continue. 
“Come back to me, please?” you could hear his voice break and you could feel your heart tearing in two. Tearing away from the cavity it once called home in your chest. You knew in that moment, the way his eyes searched yours, bed head bordering on crazy with dark strands falling into his eyes. He looked at you with adoration and hope. Love and kindness. Your heart belonged to him and only him. A sob wracked your bones as you nodded, barely containing the urge to kiss him as you pulled him against you. He kissed back fervently. Your hands quickly hanging from the nape of his neck as his hands splayed out across your ribs. Pulling your heated skin against his own. Mouths moving as one with desire and wanton need to be with one another. Never to part. His lips, mumbled against yours, once. Twice. Before-
“I’ll fix this. All of it. No more secrets. I just want to be with you. Completely.” 
You nodded in agreement to his statement, chest constricting at sudden emotions you had been holding back that rapt against your chest, begging to be set free. Lips connecting again and again as hands wandered and grabbed at one another. You found him above you as you familiarised yourselves within the sheets. Holding one another so close; breathing each other in. you chuckled dryly as he rolled off of you, breathing laboured as he glanced your way, meeting his eyes. Swollen lips from kissing, his tongue sliding over the seam of his lip before a small smile graced his features. Close mouthed but sincere. 
“I just need to go home. Then I’ll come back.” You encouraged him. 
You looked at him, looking at you. White sheets, meeting his pale skin. Old t shirt hanging off to the right slightly, showing cool expanse of collar bone and his necklace you got him that one time he had been staring at it when you visited an old street market in Spain. Even though he said he wasn’t; repeatedly but still smiled like the lovable dork when you presented him with it later that day. Dark eyes, still ebbed with sleep lingering in the corners; were shining and strands of dark hair graced his forehead, grazing his eyebrows slightly. His lips, parted with the odd swipe of his tongue for moisture. Hand appearing from under sheets to flourish the back of his knuckle against your cheekbone. Stealing a quick kiss on it as it passed your lips. 
“I promise.” You whispered; afraid the word would be cursed if uttered at any greater volume.
A light began peering through the crack in the hotel room curtains, signalling the sun rising and a new day beginning. The light; feasting upon his form. Illuminating a profile of his face in golden light; basking in it. You were enamoured and ardently consumed by all that was him. In every lifetime. For the rest of your life time. You were his. He was yours. 
Taking your hand in his, he kissed it once. “I’ll be here…Waiting.” 
© sunnysidejoon - 2021 - do not repost on any site, or translate without express permission from author.
Hope you guys enjoyed! I take requests so please do ask 😊
Love Always
Mac 🧡💜
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argumentl · 3 years ago
Text
The Freedom of Expression Ep 66 - Tasai's challenge - Lazy man food: Curry rice.
Part 1 (To part 2)
K: Hi, this is Dir en grey's Kaoru, with this week's episode of The Freedom of Expression.  Joe, Tasai, welcome. Well, today we are off to a quick start...I'm not exactly sure whats going on...I feel like we started all of a sudden, but I don't know...
J: Well, Tasai is in high spritis today.
T: I've put the effort in.
J: Haha.
K: You have a plan for today, Tasai?
T: Yeah, we talked about food ideas before, right? We came up with a few different ideas, but there was one I wanted to try...
J: I see.
T:...so I've brought the stuff with me today.
J: I'm feeling the pressure with this. This means I have to bring in something next time, I can feel it, haha.
K: Is that it? haha.
T: So, there was one thing I wanted to try... recently, pressure cookers are so useful, aren't they? You can just leave it alone and get a meal out of it. I thought we could try making the ultimate lazy food with one.
J: Ultimate lazy cooking?
T: I wondered if we could make curry just by washing and peeling the vegetables. Like, can we just throw them in without cutting, add water, and make curry just with the pressure alone? I'd put the curry roux in last.
J: Ah, yeh, you usually have to slice and cook the vegetables, don't you?
T: Yeh, its a hassle!
K: Haha.
J: Hm, I think it will turn into something like curry, but I wonder about how exactly it will look and taste.
T: My goal is that it will all melt and become soft...Well, the point is to test new things out.
K: So lets give it a go?
T: Yes, lets try it!
J: So, you've brought the stuff with you today?
T: Yes, I have.
J: Mr Planning...Planning man, its great.
T: Panning man, yeh, I hate being late, I plan everything.
J: What have you actually brought?
T: Uh, I'll show you, I'll just put these gloves on first.
J: Ah, infection control.
T: Its these *picks up a bag of veggies*
K: Oh, they are already washed?
T: Yes, so I got two whole onions, a carrot..
J: I feel like I want to cut the carrot! Are you really gonna put it in whole?
K: Haha
T: Yes. Then mini tomatoes for acidity...
J: You bought mini tomatoes too? Cute.
T: Then garlic.
J: Oh, garlic, yeh.
T: And then this packaged chicken.
K: You put that in whole too?
T: Yes, just throw it in.
K: Haha
J: Ehh? Don't you even ???*1 with your hands?
T: No no no, thats not lazy food.
J: Oh right, yeh. Waa, this is extreme.
T: I can smell the onions a bit.. ok, then we have apple juice.
J: Oh, apple juice.
T: Yeh. Then we have this mystery item.
J: What is it?
T: You'll find out that later. I'll put it away.
J: Ehh? Is it ok? What is it? Is it legal?
T: Haha, yes. So I've brought along a pressure cooker too. This thing is heavy.
J: Brilliant
K: Yeh, it is.
J: What am I gonna bring next time??
T: I was worried that no one would want to do this and Id have to haul this thing back home with me unused.
J: Its risky, right?
T: Ok, so I'll put all the ingredients in it.
J: You havn't tried this at home before now have you?
T: I do have a gas powered pressure cooker, but I've never used an electric one before.
J: Really?
T: I've been wanting to try this out. I ended up doing it on this show *2 . Ok, carrot in..
J: I really wanna slice that carrot, seeing it now.
T: And these, garlic and tomatoes.
K: But, doesn't soup curry have a lot of chunks in?
J: Well, it does yeh, big pieces.
T: This carrot hasn't been peeled. I just pulled the top off.
K: Well, yeh ???*3
J: I mean,  you can it eat raw anyway, so its fine.
T: Then the chicken..
J: Its just like you said, packaged chicken.
T: Peeling it open is allowed.
J: I imagined a box
T: Haha. This is from the supermarket. There, it's in.
J: Ah, this really is lazy food. Its shocking to think it might taste good at this stage *4
T: Yeah. Then the apple juice.
J: Thats it?
T: Oh, the Evian. Im not sure how it will work out using soft water though. 
J: Does it make a difference if you use hard or soft water?
T: I think it will have an effect on the food, yeah.
J: Uh, sorry, how much water are you putting in?
T: Oh, just by feeling. haha
J: Feeling? No way. I don't like the thought of Tokyo Sports' 'feeling', haha.
K: You put the curry in at the end?
T: Yeh, after it gets all soft the pressure will shoot up a jet of steam. So with curry or stew etc, you alawys put that in at the end after it gets soft.
K: What about that mystery ingredient you showed us before?
T: Ah, this? Ingredient X.
K: You put that in at the end too?
T: Yeh, I'll get you to smell it.
J: Ehh?
K: So, now we just wait?
T: Yep.
K: Eh? How long?
T: Probably about 1 hour.
K: Will it be done in one hour?
J: Yeh, that carrot..
T: I've managed it in one hour before
J: Are you being sponsered by the pressure cooker maker? haha
T: ???* 5
J: Did you do this every time? Haha
T: Ok, lets meet back here in one hour.
J,K: Yep.
*One hour later*
K: Ok, its been one hour, and this thing has been on the whole time, right?
T: Yes, its keeping the pressure in.
K: If we open it..?
T: I think it will probably have turned out well.
J: Really?
K: How do you open it? 
T: First, the pressure is still high inside, so we release it, and a big stream of steam will shoot up. We get it so that its safe to open, then we can open it.
K: What? Steam bursts out? I don't really know how this works, I'm scared, haha.
J: Don't you need to move it away a bit?
T: No, its ok. 3, 2, 1 ... *releases pressure valve, nothing happens* ...Huh? Its open!
J: Huh?!
K: Eh?!
T: Its already released the steam.
J: Huh? Oh, but I can really smell curry.
K: There's no curry in it yet.
J: No, I mean like the veg, the soup base.
T: Ok, I'll open it....Tadaa! Hm?! Haha, it hasn't melted at all.
J: Ehh? It didn't work?
K: Well, no, it depends how it tastes.
T: ???*6
K: Maybe 1 hour is too short? Or not?
T: I think it is has probably all become extremely softened up though.
J: Yeh, it'll fall apart if you nudge it.
K: Ahh, yeh.
Kami: Wasn't the pressure working?
T: Uh, it looks like it was working actually. It does look like it was working, but Im gonna try to break up the pieces and see. It smells good, doesn't it?
K: Yeah.
J: Yeah, that curry soup base smell.
K: Yeah.
*T mixes pot with a plastic spoon*
T: Oh, look.
K: Its become tender.
J: Yeah, but that carrot is still in one piece. Is this just regular vegetable soup?
T: *prods spoon into carrot, then the other ingredients* Oh! Nice! Ohhh, its working.
J: Will it all break up like this?
T: Yes... *opening curry roux pack*...probably after we add the curry. This is regular medium spice curry.
K: Will it melt?
J: Oh, looks like it will.
T: I just want to ???*7 a tiny bit.
K: Ah, yeh.
J: Mr Planning, are you ok?
T: Yes, I'm ok. Its going to plan.
K: You're putting all the curry roux in?
T: About this much. Im just going by feeling again, 4 cubes seems about enough.
K: Should we put the heat on again for a bit?
J: Yeah, the curry won't melt like this, right?
T: No, its melting, it is melting.
J: Really?
T: Yeah, look.
K: Oh yeah.
T: Its ok, I got this.
K: It kinda fees like we're camping.
J: Haha, yeh.
T: I think this is done.
J: Its done?!
T: Yeah.
J: Yeh, as you are stiring it, it breaks up more and more.
T: Yeah, look, look, look.
J: It looks good. Was I wrong to tell you to chop the veggies. Is it ok?
K: The result is good even without cutting.
J: Well, maybe.
K: This is like you, Joe?
J: Yeh ,haha, this is my type of food, haha. 
T: A man can totally make this by himself.
J: Hey, that onion is looking good, the more you stir it.
T: Look, look, look.
J: The meat is coming apart too. It looks a lot like curry now.
K: Its thickening up too.
J: Yeh, it is.
T: Look at this *lifts big piece of carrot on spoon*
K: Luxurious!
T: Haha, isn't this proper man food?
J: Yeah. Its great. Tasai the man!
K: Its looking quite delicious now.,
J: Thats right, it does.
T: I think thats mixed in well enough now, so..
J: The secret...?
T: Oh, no..first...*rumages off screen*
J: Is there more?
T: *finds cable and plugs it in* We'll heat it a little more.
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