#dirty water bass fishing

[thenativetank]

Rating fish lures based on accuracy to the fish they portray:

Starting off with a weird one because it says Inshore Minnows (Saltwater) but there are no marine cyprinids as far as I know - but if I had to rate it as such, I'd give it a 1/10. What I'm pretty sure this is actually is a Silverside of some sort. The body shape, eye color, and "offshore minnow" moniker kind of support that, but the color is too blue and it's missing the prominent lateral line stripe of our native species - 2/10 if it was intended to be a Medinia spp silverside, possibly higher if another species.

I chose this one not because it resembles a Shad (because it doesn't - what with the exaggerated Yellow Perch coloration and all) but because with a flat gray color I'd say this is about the best Gambusia/Mosquitofish lure I've seen - the body shape would be perfect. But it's listed as a Shad so it gets a 1/10. Sorry little guy, they did you dirty!

This is highly likely to be a Striped Bass - in which case I'd say it's not bad honestly. No fins here but we can imagine it's either a clamped individual or taken out of water. The horizontal stripes decrease in length from top of body to bottom (good!) and the eye color is accurate. Solid 8/10, but with fins would have been a knockout.

This body shape is weirdly common in lures, which I'm calling "puffer shaped". I'm not sure how effective this even is in saltwater since the puffer shape and coloration typically signal "don't eat me". In any case, this one looks like a Green Spotted Puffer from what I can tell - eye color is wrong (and looks so odd!) and there are no fins, but I could tell what it was from a distance. 5/10

Another puffer shape, the flat "green with a tinge of yellow" on top and cream on bottom strike me as a golden puffer (which i just found out changed genera recently). I assume the dot here on the side is the dark spot where the pectoral fin meets the body, but if so it's too dark and too far back. Still. 6/10 here, the species is at least obvious at first glance.

[maximura]

So I wrote a maybe draft for a Gang AU with Ateez that I maybe will finish, if anyone is into that kind of thing. It has swearing and mentions of blood.

****

It’s a chilly Saturday night in downtown Seoul and Seonghwa can hear the muted throbbing bass from the club on the other side of the bathroom door. He can smell the sweat and smoke of too many people and feel the stickiness of spilled vodka underneath his boots. It’s disgusting but that’s why he’s here. 

The graying strip of fluorescent light above his head flickers as bugs fly head first into it. He muses over the fact that he feels the same. But he can’t go home yet, his watch tells him it’s only 11:45pm. Only three hours to go. 

The mirror is dirty, spotted with fingerprints and water and whatever else he doesn’t want to think about. Not that this was the time to contemplate hygiene. 

Seonghwa’s black Dior suit hides the blood stains but his white shirt doesn't. It takes five minutes of scrubbing to make himself presentable and not alarm other people into calling the cops because some guy is washing a bloody shirt in the bathroom of a dodgy club. But nobody asks. Maybe it’s just wine. Normal people like to think the best, it helps them sleep at night while the monsters are out running the city.

He’ll burn the shirt later. 

By the time he leaves here there will be countless amounts of DNA smeared all over this bathroom. It’ll be impossible to trace anything to anyone without implicating half the youths of Seoul. 

Seungcheol told him that once and he doesn’t forget it as he rinses off his knife in the sink. Stellar, it was called, carved in cursive across the dark wood handle and given to him after his first kill. 

With his blade and clothes as clean as he can get them, Seonghwa raises a wet hand to wipe a stray smear of blood from his cheek. He can't remember whose it is. Not that it really matters. 

He runs a hand through his hair, grimacing when it sits awkwardly for a moment before hurriedly raking the dark strands the other way. 

There’s a soft buzzing from his pocket, just three before it stops.

“You alone? Line clean?”

“Not yet.” Seonghwa replies, exiting the bathroom and making his way through the back of the club.

The person on the other end waits until the thumping bass fades away and Seonghwa steps through the door into the empty back alley. 

“You good?”

“Yeah, I’m good. Issue?”

"Kim's missing."

His weariness turns sharply sober and edgy. He stops breathing for a second, stomach falling to the ground without warning. 

God, he fucking hates surprises. 

There’s millions of Kims in South Korea but only one that means something. It’s the last thing he needs to hear. It’s a guarantee there will be no sleep in his future. 

“How? When?”

He almost doesn’t want to know.

"Not over the phone. Come in. Pick up the kids on the way, usual place.”

“Yeah…..alright, sure”. 

Seonghwa hangs up and strides to where his black AMG is parked next to a few bikes. He takes three deep shaky breaths, wills himself to dissociate from the feelings he’s stamped down into the ground and puts his ‘At Work’ mask back on. Revving up the growling engine, he pulls the AMG onto the highway towards Lily’s Diner, driving well above the legal limit but knowing the cops in the area have bigger fish to fry right now, he made sure of that. 

Predictably, the “Kids” are right where he thought they'd be. He can see their mouths moving from inside the Diner, an argument in full swing no doubt, and that’s even before he’s even pulled into the parking lot. Some things just never change. It’s almost nice, if he was someone who regularly indulged in the sentimental. 

The kids don’t see him so he calls the one more likely to answer. 

"Yeah?"

“I’m in the parking lot. There’s a call-in, we gotta go now.”

There’s a heavy pause on the other end. 

“How bad?”

“Worse.”

Yunho has always been quick to read people, even through the smallest twitches on their face or slightest shifts in their voice. It was a useful skill in the field but Seonghwa has never liked it being used on him. He’ll make an exception tonight if it means less bickering.

“Okay. We’ll be out.” 

They hang up and Seonghwa waits, digging around the glove box to locate some Skittles before remembering that he ate them already. 

Fuck this Long Night.

******

"So get this Seonghwa-"

“No names in the field.” He scowls. “Wait till we’re out of ear shot at least.” 

Mingi just never learns. Blessed with freakish energy and strength but cursed with recklessness and a voice that carries too loudly across any parking lot. 

“Paranoia getting to you again?” Mingi asks with a wide grin. “It’s midnight and the only dangerous people here is us."

Seonghwa regards him through the rear view mirror; sharp tense eyes meeting bright curious ones. He knows for a fact that Mingi’s job tonight was tough but looking at the blonde in the backseat now, with his hair being tousled by the night breeze, you’d mistake him for any other carefree kid on a night out.

Seonghwa is wrestled back into the present when he feels eyes boring into his face. While he’s been looking at Mingi, Yunho has been silently watching him, stealing whatever information he needs to arrive at whichever conclusion he chooses. 

It’s unnerving. 

“You two have any problems tonight?”

Work talk. Shop talk. It’s a safe topic. Seonghwa will keep it going as long as he needs to because he can feel all the questions on the tip of Yunho’s tongue. 

They both know Yunho feeds on information; possessed with a desire to know everything about everyone in every situation. He hadn’t always been like that, Seonghwa thinks regrettably. The twenty-three year old staring at him now is nothing like the scrawny insecure kid he met all those years ago on the street. 

They both also know that Seonghwa holds all the secrets and does not surrender them easily, if at all. There are some secrets that not even Seungcheol, their leader, knows. Secrets that will be buried with him when he dies. 

“No problems.” Yunho replies shortly. “It was fine.”

“No it wasn’t! I need new weapons!” Mingi protests, ignoring the silent battle of dominance playing out in front of him. 

“What’s wrong with your current lot?”

“Ugh, it jams every time it gets damp!” Mingi cries, throwing his hands in the air and nearly taking Yunho’s eyes out. “I’m going to ask Wonwoo for some new shit when we get back. He said I was his favourite and I’m going to capitalise."

Like a switch, Yunho’s stony face lights up with laughter. “What? You are definitely not his favourite. He was being sarcastic.”

Mingi pauses, hand on his chest like he’s wounded. “No, but he said it fully serious.”

Yunho rolls his eyes. “That’s just how he talks, Mingi. He tells us we’re all his favourites. That’s the joke because none of us are his favourite.”

Seonghwa snorts out a laugh. 

“So this whole time…” Mingi trails off, a look of betrayal flitting across his face. 

“Yeah, he finds you as annoying as the rest of us.” Yunho says with a chuckle, petting Mingi’s blonde hair fondly. “He hates everyone.”

“Everyone?”

“Well, almost everyone.”

There’s a beat of silence and Seonghwa lets go of some of the tension in his shoulders. It lasts approximately ten seconds before Mingi’s head suddenly pops up next to him. 

“Hey Seonghwa, I’m still your favourite though right?”

******

When they arrive at Headquarters Seonghwa punches in the new code and nods to Stanley, the security man pretending to be the Gardner, as they drive into the gated property. As far as he knows, there were no flowers that bloomed solely at night, but their neighbours were either stupid, apathetic or just as crooked as they were to ignore it all. 

Once inside, Seonghwa sends Mingi and Yunho to clean up but he makes his way up to the main office. 

“Well? You found him yet?”

Seungcheol is at his desk when Seonghwa bursts through the door, hissing a loud ‘fuck off!’ at the two guards who attempted to search him. 

Seungcheol allows it, nodding for the guards to stand down.

“Well?” Seonghwa asks again. “Do we have anything?”

“No.”

Seonghwa slumps heavily into one of the leather chairs in the room. 

Seungcheol regards him quietly and calmly. “I was going to wait till the others got here.”

“Oh fuck that, I deserve to know first.” Seonghwa spits out, knowing that, despite his own seniority, Seungcheol is still older and he’s dangerously close to stepping out of line here. 

“Hongjoong was contracted to take out Big Red tonight.”

Cold dread settles uncomfortably in Seonghwa’s stomach, with worry and anxiety gnawing at him until everything is replaced with anger. 

“He didn’t tell me that.”

“I told him not to.”

“So you sent him on a secret suicide mission by himself? Not even a team could take on Big Red right now. What the hell, Seungcheol?”

“We had intel things would be favourable.”

Seonghwa snorts derisively. “Well, him being missing doesn’t make it very fucking favourable does it?”

They’re both quiet for a moment. Seonghwa talks down his rage; not just at the fact that Hongjoong is missing but at the sheer amount of disastrous decisions being made without his knowledge.

“The intel was bad. Jongho took care of the source.”

“No shit it was bad.” Seonghwa scoffs, as if a mole dying was meant to make him feel better. “So you don’t know anything?”

Seungcheol leans forward in his chair. “There’s not much to go on: we think Red’s still on the run because nobody’s called it in yet. The entire building they were both in burnt to the ground. No survivors.”

“That’s nothing to go on.” Seonghwa mutters. “How do you even know there’s no survivors? Have you looked?”

Seungcheol’s poker face flashes with something akin to regret. It’s barely there but Seonghwa caught it. 

“What? What is it?”

“Well, it would seem that your little pal got himself some kind of fan who saw the whole thing. 

Seonghwa is dumbfounded, staring lamely at Seungcheol as he continues. 

“If he's meant to be so hard to find and kill, I don't even know how this kid managed to track him down and follow him in the first place.”

“Wait, how do you even know this? Where’s this kid now?”

“Wonwoo’s feeding him in the kitchen.”

“What? Are you serious?” Seonghwa laughs incredulously, “You brought a fucking unreliable witness back here? Are we in the witness protecting business now? Have you actually lost your mind?”

Seungcheol lets out rare weary sigh. "You want to see him?"

No, he didn't. He's had enough of kids and stupid decisions for one night. 

"Sure."

*****

The Kid looks maybe 18. It was hard to tell. Maybe the tears made him look younger but the soot and grime made him look older. 

Wonwoo nods a greeting as Seonghwa enters the kitchen and stands up to leave them alone. 

Seonghwa sits down at the table. 

"You ok, Kid?"

"Don't call me that!” 

The snap was unexpected and Seonghwa can't help but be amused. Just seen death, kidnapped by a gang and this kid still has the balls to talk back. 

“Okay, so you’re not a kid. Got it. You have a home to go to? Parents?"

The Kid shakes his head. It’s a movement and answer that trips a wire in Seonghwa’s mind. 

"Okay then. You gotta name?"

"He said no names in the field."

And Seonghwa wants to laugh at that. Typical Kim Hongjoong.

"We're not in the field now though."

“Well, I’m not stupid enough to tell you my name.” The Kid huffs defiantly, even through the dirt and tears. 

This kid. Seonghwa can see why Hongjoong might've been tempted to let him get close. 

"Okay. Different question. How did you know him?"

"I don't. I just followed him around."

"Yeah? And he let you? You know what he is right?"

"He's a killer. Just like you."

The Kid turns to look him in the eyes. They’re as sharp as the ones he’s seen in the mirror and suddenly the teenager looks both young and old at the same time. There’s a weariness, sadness, tiredness but above all, the steely silver light of determination. 

"He's not dead."

The statement punches Seonghwa right in his chest. "What?"

"I couldn't find a body. It means he's not dead."

A few years ago Seonghwa might've been more naive, might’ve been too optimistic or pessimistic based on emotions, but now, he only plays with fact and probability. And right now, those tell him that despite the whole building burning down and no gang wars erupting over Big Red’s territory: no body means no kill. Assassins survive for a reason. Especially Kim Hongjoong. 

"You looked?”

The Kid nods. "Until the cops and fire guys came"

"Did you tell this to anyone?"

"Only you."

"Why me? How do you know me?"

"He told me to find you. He told me to trust you....." The Kid pauses. Obviously debating whether to trust anyone at all. "He told me to look for the model guy with the most expensive suit. That's you isn't it?"

Seonghwa wants to laugh but his mind just reels from the information. This wasn’t just a random Kid. He clearly had some sort of relationship with Hongjoong, one that Seonghwa didn’t even know about. 

He pushes aside the feelings of betrayal and settles on processing the fact that this kid has spent enough time with Hongjoong to figure out what he might look like. It means Hongjoong has described him, in detail, to someone. Just in case something happened to him. 

This kid was the lifeline. And Seonghwa was the emergency contact.

Fucking Kim Hongjoong. 

The kid lets out a sheepish yawn and Seonghwa checks his watch: 2am. 

"You got anywhere to go? It's late."

He’s met with a non committal shrug. 

“You want me to drop you off somewhere?”

“I don’t know.”

“Someone out there is looking for you right?”

“No.”

Seonghwa just stares at him before taking in the worn out clothes, the Nike hoody that looks suspiciously like the one he got Hongjoong years ago, and the total lack of any real personal belongings near him. 

Seonghwa clears his throat uncomfortably. "Ah. Well. I'll talk to er, the others about where to...put...you."

He walks out of the room swiftly and finds Seungcheol in the main lounge room they used for most meetings. He must’ve had the strangest expression on his face because Seungcheol doesn’t even demand a status report right away. 

“What? What is it?”

“He…said he looked through the wreck of the building, after the fire was put out. He couldn't find a body. Any body. So maybe they're both alive.”

“Someone pulled them out.”

“I think so. It would explain why nobody’s claimed Hongjoong’s kill and Red’s minions aren't tearing themselves apart for a piece of the territory.”

He looks around room. The black couches in the corner now filled with the sleeping forms of the Yunho and Mingi. 

“You filled them in?”

Seungcheol nods, “Only what they needed to know: that Hongjoong’s missing.”

“Where’s Jongho?”

“He’s fine, just delayed by the ferry. Something about a storm over the ocean.”

Seonghwa nods. “The Kid. He’s a street kid. I don’t know who he belongs to, he says nobody but someone out there must be missing him. I'm not sure it was smart taking him here but he knows too much Seungcheol. He knows a whole fucking lot.”

Seungcheol rubs his temples. “That’s what I was afraid of. It’s part of the reason I took him here.”

“Part of?”

“Well, he also asked for you. By name."

They stare at each other incredulously, before simultaneously muttering, "Fucking Kim Hongjoong.” 

[the-indie-owl]

SpongeBob SquarePants Shipping Chart (FEEL FREE TO USE)

MAJOR UPDATE (10/14/2023): Added More Characters from the Musical

For the record, I've decided to create my own official blank shipping chart of one of my Fandoms for the very first time (since there isn't much SB Shipping Charts all over online so I created my own).

I've created Two Versions in case for Half of the Fandom's POV on the Two King Neptune characters (rather if you believe they are the same Character or Not).

Here are the Two Links for Full Versions in case to use for the Better Quality.

In case if you are confused of what each of the Ship Terms for what each of the Color represents...

❤️ = OTP (A Ship that You Love so Much and it is your own Main Favorite One out of all of the Other Ships) 🧡 = Platonic (A Ship that you prefer to be more than just Personal Friends rather than a Couple) 💖 = Crack (A Kind of Ship that is meant to be either Bizarre or Funny as in a Joke) 🩷= Love (A Ship that you also Adore but not that much of a Main Favorite) 💛= Like (A Ship that you do Enjoy but rather in a More "Causal" way to say the least) 💚= Neutral (A Ship that you have Mixed Feelings or Indifferent with) 🩵= Ok (A Ship that you're completely Fine with, but don't have any strong feelings towards it) 💜= Meh (A Ship that you just don't completely care nor pay any attention to) 💙= Dislike (A Ship that you just don't agree with or just not a personal fan of, if you don't have any too much Hate of it) 💙= Hate (A Ship that you just CAN'T STAND no matter how much that you despise) 🖤= Crash and Burn (A NOTOP that you Hate so much and is your own Main DEPISE One out of all the Other Ships)

Bonus Option: 💗= Ship with OC (A Character that you personally prefer to ship with Any of Your Own Persona/Mutuals' OC) 💚= Ship in Crossover (An X-Over Ship that you prefer to ship with Any Canon Character in the Franchise with a Different Character from Another Media) 🟤= Stay Single (A Character that you don't have enough ships and would just leave the Character to be Single without being shipped with anyone)

Characters in the Chart:

(Main Show)

SpongeBob SquarePants

Patrick Star

Gary The Snail

Sheldon J. Plankton

Squidward Tentacles

Sandy Cheeks

Mr. Krabs

Pearl Krabs

Karen

Mrs. Puff

Mermaid Man

Barnacle Boy

Larry The Lobster

The Flying Dutchman

Man Ray

Dirty Bubble

King Neptune

Queen Amphitrite

Prince Triton

Squidabeth

Barry Blobfish

Nosferatu

Slappy Laszlo

Slippy

Squidina Star

Chip Plankton

Tony 

Squilliam Fancyson

Squilvia

Patchy The Pirate

Spot

Snellie

Kenny The Cat

Perch Perkins

Bubble Bass

Old Man Jenkins

Kevin C. Cucumber

Flats The Flounder

Lady Upturn

Stanley SquarePants

Sam Star

Flapjack SquarePants

Bubble Buddy

Rube Goldfish

Gale Doppler

Plankrab

Charlton Hawkfish

Boat Salesman Shark

Hieronymus Glove

Karen 2.0.

Nurse Bazooka

Lord Poltergeist

DoodleBob

Don Grouper

Sticky Fins Whiting

Dorsal Dan

Dylan

Fred

Tom

Archie

Harry

Francis

John

Nancy Suzy Fish

Nazz Mimi

Tina Fran

Henry Bart

Franco

Sheila

Vera Fishbowl

Medley Fishbowl

Evelyn

Mevis

Buddy

Perry

Horace

Sheldon

Halbert

Jennifer Millie

Charlie

Frank The Goldfish

Jimmy Gus

Phil

Molly

Clay

Don The Whale

Harold (Red Fish)

Gus

Martin/Wobbles

Scooter

Lou

Harold "Bill" Reginald

Nat

Shubie

Dave

Sadie

Abigail Marge

Patty Rechid

Norma Rechid

Nathiel

Martha Smith

Thaddeus

Billy Lime

Harv

Frank (Lifeguard Guy)

Lloyd-Rich

Cara

Paco

Sylvester

Mabel

Old Man Walker

Lonnie

Mary

Sandals

Dennis

Miss Shell

Norma Edna

Debbie

Frank

Pilar 

Frankie Billy

Dale

Lenny

Mable-Monica

Purple Doctorfish

Norton

Richard

(Movies)

-1st Movie, "The SpongeBob SquarePants Movie"

Princess Mindy

Dennis

- 2nd Movie, "Sponge Out of Water"

Burger Beard

-3rd Movie, "Sponge On The Run"

King Poseidon

Queen Salacia (For those who don't know, in Roman Legends, Salacia was the Goddess of the Sea as well as the Actual Wife of Neptune (her Counterpart was Amphitrite, a Greek Goddess who was Poseidon's Wife). However, considering that the Franchise has secretly done an Alternate "Wife Swap" idea between the Consorts of the Greek/Roman Sea Gods, Salacia did appear in a Cameo of the Third Movie, regarding if it could be truly her or not. There was also a Semi-Design of Her through Concept Arts behind the Third Movie that I did found through ArtStation by 3D Developer (Michael Defeo). For those who are curious to know about the concept design behind King Poseidon's Wife in SB, here's the link that you can click on.)

Sage

Otto

Chancellor

Tiffany Haddock

(Spin-Offs)

-Kamp Koral

Narlene Narwhal

Nobby Narwhal

Kidferatu

Preda Tory

Roxy

Jimmy Blobfish

-The Patrick Star Show

Ouchie

(Musical)

Mrs. Mayor

Merlina Mermaid

Entity Punkfish

Goldfish

Fred Blutang

Bubbles

Bitsey

The Eletric Skates

(Other Media)

- Games 

Prawn ("Battle for Bikini Bottom")

Madame Kassandra ("The Cosmic Shake")

- Books

Princess Neptuna ("SpongeBob and the Princess")

Feel free to use if you like to use any version you want, either if you'd want to credit me or link my own charts in the descriptions/texts.

[valpoupdates]

APRIL CALENDAR POSTING...

So much to see, so much to do, so little time ! Lucky for you, here in the Valparaíso Region, we keep track of it just for you ! Unless stated otherwise, these activities are optional. Residents do not have to take part in these if they don't wish to ! These can be used for threads throughout the month but new threads can't be started for these activities once the month is up. Please track the valpocalendar tag to stay updated month to month ( ©️ )

Casablanca Activities

April 1st-30th: Solace Spa has added 1 eyelash esthetician and 1 nail art specialist to the Solace family!  As they get their footing and settle into their new positions, they will be offering their services at a discounted price for the entire month.  Don’t be fooled though; they both have extensive experience, wonderful customer service, and quality results.  Please contact the front desk to make a reservation: +56 312-209-XXXX.

April 3rd: Agustín’s Jazz Lounge is offering a free small group class for first time clients to dip their toes in the water and learn the basics of that instrument you’ve always wanted to learn.  The groups will be for 2-5 students for 1 hour, allowing for personalized, one-on-one attention.  The free trial class schedule is as follows:

7 PM: Guitar lessons; bass lessons. 8 PM: Piano lessons; harp lessons. 9 PM: Violin lessons; cello lessons.

April 14th: Little Leaves Tea House is hosting an Attack On Titan pop-up shop!  The entire cafe will be transformed and decorated as though it were a tavern in Paradis Island; merchandise (keychains, hoodies, mugs, notebooks, etc.) will be sold; the drinks will be themed; and there will be plenty of photo opportunities.

Quilpué Activities

April 6th: El Jardín will be hosting an Intro to Vegetable Gardening on Saturday from 8:30 AM - 11:30 AM, hosted by Dra. Florencia Gomez, author of several best-selling and insightful books on the topic: Huerto Ecológico and El Alma en Jardinería.  Come learn how you can start your own garden even if you don’t have a backyard.  Tips, tricks, and goodie bags will be provided.  Please come in clothes you don’t mind getting dirty.

April 8th: Quilpué Zoo celebrates National Zoo Lovers Day with free general admission!  There will be a special coloring book pdf that you can download on the Quilpué Zoo website, as well as a special National Zoo Lovers Day merchandise that you can buy in the gift shop.

April 7th-13th: Welcome to Quilpué’s Restaurant Week!  For one week, many restaurants in Quilpué will be offering a special and discounted menu.  Participating restaurants will be donating all proceeds from the special menu to the local food bank.  This week-long event is both a foodie’s dream and a large charity event.  Not every restaurant is participating, so make sure you check valparaisofoodbank.cl for more details.

April 23rd-25th: Plaza de Sol is having a Summer’s End Sale!  Take an additional 20-40% off on top of sales and discounted pricing on participating shops.  If you’re looking to prepare an outfit or house decor for next year’s summer with prices that won’t break the bank, or if you’re looking to get a head start on autumn trends, you’ll be sure to find it at Plaza de Sol, Quilpué’s largest mall.

Valparaíso Activities

April 5th: Fish Frenzy Aquarium will be hosting a re-enactment of Finding Nemo using boat puppets from 11 AM - 2 PM!  Does your child like fish?  Do they like boats?  Do they like Pixar Movies?  If so, they’ll love this event, where all three will be combined in a fintastic way!

April 18th: Valparaíso Centro Médico is looking for volunteers to help the prospective graduating class of 2024.  Volunteers are needed to pretend to be patient cases for medical school students.  You will be given a list of symptoms and some helpful dialogue to assist you in acting as a patient for the students to interact with and diagnoses.  Lunch will be provided for volunteers.  If you’re a medical student and you’re interested in participating in this practice session, please contact us at volunter_vcm.cl.  The practice will start 1 PM - 4 PM, but volunteers are to arrive at 12 PM.

April 20th-21st: The local Valparaíso Animal Shelter is partnering with Biblioteca Santiago Severín for an adoption weekend!  For Saturday and Sunday, from 10 AM - 3 PM, the animal shelter will bring their cats and dogs and have tents and tables set up outside of the library.  All animals will be named after famous poets and authors, and all will be adoptable.  Come meet your new best friend!

April 29th: Candlelight Concert: The Best of Hans Zimmer—the performance will be held at Parque Cultural de Valparaíso from 9 PM - 10 PM. The Candlelight Concerts bring the magic of a live, multi-sensory musical experience to awe-inspiring locations.  Bring your partner or a loved one and come listen to a beautiful melody of Hans Zimmer’s greatest works and bask in the glow of soft candlelight.

Viña del Mar Activities

April 1st: Club Divine is hosting a stand-up comedy night! From 8 PM - 9 PM, there is a lineup of local LGBTQIA+ comedians performing their sets for 10-15 minutes each. Each performer’s favorite drink will be provided and discounted at the bar for the night.

April 7th: The Parque Nacional La Campana is working with the Humanities Department of the Universidad de Bellas Artes to give you the opportunity to take your creativity outdoors with their newest event, Nature Journaling!  From 9 AM - 2 PM, you’ll meet up with like-minded individuals, guided by both artists and park rangers to combine creative writing, art, biology, and nature.  Please dress appropriately for hiking.  You are welcome to bring your own supplies, but simple paper, pencils, and color pencils will be provided. 

April 26th: The Golden Beach Street is hosting their annual Summer’s End Bonfire.  From 8 PM - 11 PM, bonfires will be lit on several beaches (Playa Acapollo, Playa El Sol, Playa Blanca, to name a few ) to celebrate the end of the summer and to welcome in the autumn and its bright colors and cooler air.  Participating restaurants may give discounts during this time, and fireworks will be lit at the end of the night.

[lordsofcorbina]

Cross your T’s and Dot your I’s.

Randy and I headed out to get on this current tuna bite that’s happening just outside our shoreline. I could see in the distance Mount Soledad while we were out on the water. The hot bite has been hugging our coast from La Jolla to Oceanside. I saw a pic of a tuna boil taken from shore.😯

Our first stop was near a bit of a crowd but the birds were working hard so we decided to give it a shot. We kept our distance and brailed a healthy

amount of bait to try and stir up some action. We were in 74 degree water so we figured the schools moving around this area were Yellow Fin Tuna.

Reports had them between 20 to 40 pounds.

Soaking a line I go for my lightest rig to hedge my bet on just getting bit. I handled many tuna in the 20 to 30 pound range on my Graphtech Light Bass Stick rated 8 to 12 pound and OG Calcutta 400.

I have a light wire Mutu #4 circle hook tied directly to the mono.

Randy is fishing something a little heavier but he’s using a fluorocarbon leader.

Fishing side by side Randy gets bit and has a fish on. Unfortunately it comes off a short while later.

Well I’m no dummy so I wind in my line cut off my hook and quickly tie in a nice long 20 pound fluorocarbon leader.

I get rigged up and pin on a bait. I have the bait outside the rod tip and about to make a cast and I feel some flat spots along the mono. Sometimes flat spots are just that and if give the line a good stretch they will disappear and hopefully the line integrity is intact.

So I give the line a stretch and it smooths it out but it’s not ideal. I decide to not chance it and peel all the line out of the top of the rod, cut off the dead spots and proceed to tie in a new leader.

I tie in the new leader with a triple surgeon knot instead of the usual double but when I pulled it tight it did not lay down perfectly. So once again I cut off the leader and have to retie.

Three tries, I finally get this right! We tried for a long soak and neither one of us gets a sniff.

So we decide to run up to another spot.

The water is like a lake the only draw back is the lack of any kelp paddies and the water was often dirty to very dirty.

Reports though have shown the tuna have been willing to bite in this dirty water.

So we are cruising along and I see a actual piece of kelp but it’s smaller than a trash can lid. More like the size of a 5 gallon bucket.

Randy says let’s fish it since there’s no other game in town. We actually had to circle back to find the tiny kelp patch. I went pretty heavy brailing a few scoops of bait on this kelp button.

I grab the bass stick, pin on a fresh bait and flip it out towards the kelp. The bait takes off, oh great a lively bait and then the line just surges off the reel. Whoo hoo, I’m bit, I start counting in my head, once I get to about 7 I flip the reel in gear and feel the weight of the fish and he starts smoking my little Calcutta.

Line is disappearing rapidly and before long I’m down to less than a third of my spool.

Finally the fish slows down and I apply some pressure and get him coming my way. I start speed winding to gain back some line. When I’m at about 50% capacity I feel a little relief. I then check my drag thinking it may be to loose to get smoked by a Yellow Fin Tuna like that. Nope feels just about right it’s not overly loose or overly tight for the line.

My confidence is short lived as the fish makes another gnarly surge and dumps all that line and more back off the reel. I mutter, “oh man I’m going to get spooled here”. Randy hears me and says what? You’re getting spooled? I said yeah he’s trying. Randy asks what size line are you fishing? Ummmm 17 pound straight mono 🤷🏻‍♂️

Anyway, three laps around the boat, twice I almost got spooled and finally we end up chasing the fish with the boat to keep the pressure on without adding undo pressure.

Bingo-Bango… it turns into an epic Blue Fin tuna battle.

The fish tried all the Blue Fin tricks, trying to spool me, running directly back at the boat, running straight out along on the surface. While fighting the fish up in the bow, Randy in the stern asks if I needed a gaff yet. Nope I have him at deep color. Seconds later the fish rockets up and starts thrashing on the surface and now I’m yelling for a gaff. WTF the first time I’ve had a tuna do that. Then it drives back down to deep color and we go back into the end game.

Props to Randy for being steady at the helm chasing down the fish.

I also ended up landing a 25 pound YFT on normal gear and lost a nice YFT. That fish chewed through the leader right at the boat.😢 😎

[flickinfeathers]

More Blanton's whistlers. Doing a few for dirty water too. I should really be making sure my craw box is full, but for some reason I need to get my whistler fix. #flyfishing #flytying #fishing #saltwaterflyfishing #saltfly #swff #seabass #suzuki #stripedbass #stripers #bass #bassfly #bassonfly #warmwaterflyfishing #smallmouthbass #smalliesonthefly #largemouthbass #predatorfishing #pikefly #pike https://www.instagram.com/p/Cov3rqMhh4D/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[mygainyear2024]

Day 76 A Supratours bus to Essaouira and I’m taking my coffee black!

After seeing the open UHT milk stored under the sink I’m now having a long black and the pods I purchased for myself are splitting my portable machine, so I’m using Rose’s Starbucks coffee. Lucky for me she’s not interested in black coffee as we have a limited supply 😂

When we arrived in Marrakesh we noticed a lot of sheep being moved around the city. Hassan says everything will be closed for three days and people will head home to family.

Despite Rose telling Hassan she has a “made up” boyfriend at home, it does not deter either of them! Anyway I’m getting my incessant questions answered via their instagram chat from the bus. He writes to Rose and explains it’s the Muslim festival marking the culmination of the annual pilgrimage to Mecca and commemorating the sacrifice of Abraham. When I google shop opening hours I see Eid al-Adha, hours might differ!

The driver to the bus station explains to me that Marrakesh is now one of the safest destinations to travel, particularly in Africa. I enquired about what makes everyone so helpful. He said it’s the religion, culture, networks of businesses that work together to look after each other and the tourists, the responsive of government (eg lights in streets, cameras everywhere, more police).

A British tourist on the bus says each sheep costs 6500 dirham (that’s about $1200 AUD) and if you can’t afford a sheep to sacrifice you can swap for a goat that’s 2500 dirham. Rose confirms this with Hassan.

The three hour trip to Essaouira is comfortable with a loo stop about one hour out. When I look up from typing my blog into notes I see the occasional donkey pulling supplies, one part of the highway has a beautiful garden up the centre strip, there’s lots of dirt, a car crosses sides in front of the bus and the driver never looks our way and a young boy plays chicken with the bus driver on his bike at a roundabout!

After noisily wheeling one suitcase through the Medina for about 15 minutes to our Riad we head out for food. I read a blog of some recent digital nomads and I’m keen to try their street food pastilla recommendation. When we passed by it looked like he was all out. We went back and he made us fresh ones. We waited about 15 minutes, delicious but oily at 45 dirhams each. Keen to grab coffee I’d listed about four places where photos told the story of the possibility of a decent latte. Sisterhood Coffee & Shop is closest, the oat milk latte is passable but Rose’s iced oat milk latte looks like dirty water and maybe a good idea that it has no ice!

Given the imminent closure of business we prioritise looking around the shops. A lovely find was a large jewellery store with beautiful pieces. I hear an Aussie accent and engage, but she’s an unwilling participant. It looked like her and her offsider were potentially doing larger business with the store. Anyway I picked a beautiful pair of earrings with the help of the patient saleswoman, crafted locally using filigree (which I’d also seen in Portugal, the sales woman says it originated from here) and the Essaouira flower, the daisy (one of my favourites). It also has the Moroccan triangle and now I forget what this symbolises, but I recall it’s female related.

Dinner was at Triskala, another of the bloggers recommendations, and their menu focussed on whatever fish is caught and purchased on the day. I think because we had an 8pm booking we missed the sardines (maybe I’ll miss this season altogether, recall I was too early in Portugal) and we have the sea bass with roasted veg instead and a starter of smoked sardine pastries (Rose not a fan!)

[numberonestarfishhologram]

The Many Benefits Of Fishing With A Net

Let's look at the key words in this article fishing nets.

Fishing with a net is one of the oldest and most traditional ways to catch fish. And for good reason—net fishing is not only an incredibly rewarding experience, it’s also incredibly effective. In this blog post, we will discuss some of the many benefits of net fishing and how you can maximize your chances of success by using the right gear and techniques. And if you’re looking for a new fishing destination, be sure to check out our list of the best fishing spots around the country.

The Different Types of Fish You Can Catch With a Net

Different Types of Fish You Can Catch With a Net There are many different types of fish that you can catch with a net, and the benefits of fishing with a net are vast. Net fishing is an incredibly low impact way to catch fish, and it’s a great way for beginners to get started in the sport. When you use a net, you don’t have to worry about line or hooks getting caught on rocks or other obstacles. This makes net fishing a safe and easy way to catch larger fish. Plus, because there’s no fighting or struggling involved, net fishing is great for people who suffer from asthma or other respiratory problems. Net fishing can also be a very profitable activity. Many people use nets to catch catfish, bass, trout, and more. When you catch these types of fish using a net, you can sell them fresh or frozen without ever having to go out on a boat.

How to Clean Your Fish After Catching It

There are few things in life as satisfying as catching a fish with your bare hands. Whether you're fishing for bass, perch, or any other freshwater fish species, having fresh fish on your dinner table is a rewarding experience. However, if you're like most anglers, you probably don't want to spend all day cleaning your catch. That's where a net comes in handy. By using a net instead of your hands, you can quickly and easily pick up your fish and dispose of any unwanted debris without dealing with slimy scales or dried blood. Here are four tips for cleaning your catch using a net: 1) Make sure the net is clean before use. Wiping it down with a cloth will help remove any dirt or debris that may have built up over time. If the mesh is dirty or has holes, it will be difficult to get the fish out without damaging it. Try using a mild detergent and water on a plush cloth to clean the net; leave it to dry completely before storing it away. 2) Clip the fish securely with the netting so it doesn't escape while being cleaned. Gently lift the fish out of the water and place it on some clean surface near shore where you can easily access its edges and corners without getting wet yourself. Carefully remove all of the scales and other large pieces of tissue with your fingers, using caution not to puncture or injure the fish. Finally, rinse off

Conclusion

If you're looking for a fun and rewarding activity that can be done indoors or outdoors, fishing with a net is definitely an option worth considering. Not only does it provide hours of enjoyment, but it also has many benefits that make it a great choice for those interested in improving their fitness and overall health. If you're interested in giving fishing with a net a try, be sure to check out our selection of the best nets available today!

[largemouthbassnation]

Fishing Muddy Water For HUGE Bass Took a trip out to a lake that is know for some big bass, and that's exactly what I got. Fishing started out slow, but as soon as I figured out where they were I was ... source

[charnelhouse]

my love is vengeance

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x F!Reader Wordcount: 5.6K Warnings: smut. virginity-taking. oral both ways. violence. vibes. drugs. drinking. Hair pulling. Summary: They were waltzing around the sex talk. They kissed - they made out like fucking teenagers after they had spent a night fighting down the knife-edge of the city A/N: reader is kind of based off a character/kind of has some promising young woman vibes going on. title is from the who's behind blue eyes. this is chaos and im on sleep meds and pad thai. apologies for mistakes!

It was hard to crack The Batman. Vengeance.

He didn’t go by that name anymore. Apparently.

They met during a back alley fight. She had lost herself at the Iceberg Lounge. Black leather pants. Emerald green corset top. Boots. She got herself in some trouble, but she’d been dying for it. She had twirled and drank and squeezed a couple Drops into her eyes until her mascara ran and she’d chewed through her lip.

Her vision had swam - gone to neon swirls and white spots. She had danced and danced until the world had flipped over. The vibrating floor. The bass drop. She was waiting - hoping - delighting at the thought of her web reeling some horsefly into her snare.

It worked as it always did. Some creep had managed to drag her outside - oily hands grabbing at her. The stink of fetid breath that was too warm. The rolling sweetheart - come on - come -

She always savored the look on their faces when she suddenly straightened - when she gracefully twisted their arm or broke their nose. Her slur gone. Her eyes now bright and aware. She could be dizzy-drunk and still manage to pull her punches. She didn’t intend to kill anyone. Just a lesson and yes, maybe, she was trying to fill all the pesky holes inside her from her own horrific past. She called it closure, but it was “closure” that was never actually fulfilled.

That night in particular had not gone as planned. The creep had security - he’d apparently been a bigger fish than she thought. How could you tell really? Everyone in Gotham was someone’s superior - was someone’s boss in an invisible hierarchy. The good guys were actually bad and the bad guys were bad, but not even as bad as the good guys because they, at least, owned it.

All of that (the security and the big fish) - she didn’t know. Not then. Not yet.

The man screeched after she’d sent the heel of her hand into his nose. Blood swirling in the rain. Like tears. What was that movie again? Something..something…the shoulder of Orion…C-beams…glitter?

“You fucking bitch,” he growled, lunging forward. She side-stepped. The alcohol swelled inside her - the drops left her skin humming. She was cold - sensitive to every splat of water. The rain drenched her hair and her clothes and left the air with the tang of mildew.

It was all fun - all very exciting until the man started chuckling - red seeping between his too-white teeth. She frowned.

“What- “

Pain - sharp and sudden - slammed through her back. She fell - knees scraping against the shimmering asphalt. The neon lights of the city danced along the tops of her hands as they found purchase on the dirty ground. The Exit sign reflected rosy red against the silver surface of her bracelets. Another kick sent her into the trash bin - the whole front denting beneath her weight.

She grimaced before glancing up to see who - exactly - had come to this fuckhead’s rescue.

Four guys. Enormous. Thick. Definitely security.

One of the men - bald and pissed - snapped his fist back band drove it toward her -

She screwed her eyes shut.

Not her most courageous move, but she didn’t care. There was just so much rain and she couldn’t hear outside of it. The Drops still had her bones vibrating. Her heart had split in two and taken residence in both of her ear canals. She waited - waited - and then nothing - a wisp of wind and a sudden howl of agony.

She opened her eyes. Oh.

The Batman. He was bigger than she expected. Broad-shouldered. Shockingly fast for someone so bulky. He’d saved the city a year ago. She remembered the flood of water. The murders and the corruption brought to light. This was the first time she’d ever run into him.

She watched - breathless and in pain from her bruised ribs - as he beat the shit out of her attackers. It took him a minute, perhaps two and then he was done - staring down at the pile of unconscious bodies with what she’d assumed was indifference, but there was really no way to tell with that mask.

Finally, he turned toward her. He dropped down - making himself smaller - a hunched form. She spread his gloved hand in offering. It was jarring to see him go from towering to eye-level. “Are you okay?” His voice was deep - raspy - like it had been wrenched over gravel. She could make out the exquisite line of his jaw - the blue around his pupils. The shade gleamed within circles of smoke-black make-up. Galaxy blue. Lake blue.

She clutched his hand - shivering as his fingers covered hers. He helped her up - mindful of her injuries that she would no doubt feel tenfold tomorrow morning.

“Thanks,” she told him - at a loss of what else to say. He didn’t leave - didn’t disappear into the shadows.

“I watched you,” he revealed. “Watched you nearly break that guy’s face.”

“He had bad intentions.”

The corner of his mouth lifted. “I’ve watched you beat the shit out of different guys the last two weeks.”

She went still - uncertain if he was going to arrest her or chastise her. She didn’t know which would be worse. “Why did you wait until tonight to show up?”

He shrugged. “You were outnumbered. Didn’t feel like trying to find someone else who can fight with your…,” He seemed to search for the right word. “…creativity.”

Her brow furrowed. “Fight for what?”

“Need help on a case,” His eyes were steady on her - serious. Unsettling. “I could use someone who can defend themselves and you know the Iceberg.”

“Oh.” He didn’t even ask her why she did what she did. He saw it as a strength. He had started walking and she hurried after him - skipping over one of the unconscious bodies he had left. Her skin felt less tingly. Not as tight.

“You don’t even know my name,” she accused.

He lifted his arm - her wallet stuck between his fingers. “Nice to meet you.”

Jerk.

***

Bruce did not think of Selina. The new girl - woman - reminded him strongly of her. A fact he did not want to truly acknowledge. Both of them were bitter - angry - and remarkable at getting into places they shouldn’t. The only difference was that she desired no payment - no reward for the pain she dealt. There was no gold in it for her. No diamonds. She simply took advantage of the men who tried to take advantage of her - some form of revenge that Bruce knew all too well.

She was also less controlled than Selina had been. She drank to oblivion. She did Drops on occasion, which he’d grumble about much to her amusement. She had money - which he had not expected. There was barely any information on her, but she was rich. She’d buy tables at the Iceberg - drop her black Amex as she handled recon for him. She’d clothe herself in sparkling minidresses - too high heels. Then later in the night - she’d pull on her suit and be someone else. Someone harder and sadder and violent.

Their first case turned into a second. There was a third - a fourth. He supposed that they were partners now. They knew so little of each other and yet were together nearly every night.

She had begun to channel whatever resentment boiled inside her toward their work. She was just as motivated as him - just as excited to get to the bottom of the spoiled pot that was Gotham. She developed a type of poison that functioned like a hallucinogen, which she finessed until it practically became a truth serum. She’d put it in tiny vials, pricking throats with needles.

“Are we dating?” she’d joked once as they sat together at their meeting spot. The wind blew through the plastic tarps, kicking up gusts of construction dust. She was nursing a fat lip. He had a bloody nose he couldn’t seem to plug up. It had been a successful night.

He exhaled - huffed a laugh that he tried to swallow. She caught him and her lips spread apart into the most unbearable smile. It lit up her entire face. Bruce felt something clench in his gut and he had to look away.

***

Batman weighed a ton - a thousand fucking tons and part of it might have been his damn suit.

“C’mon,” she wheezed between clenched teeth. She had her hands under his arms as she pulled and pulled. He’d hurt his head. An explosive had blown up right in his fucking face. At least, his body parts were still attached. She finally got him into a deserted hallway in a shuttered building. The chaos of the fight was still roaring outside.

She searched his face - tilting his helmet back and forth. Shit. She didn’t want to betray him. They’d developed a connection - trust - respect. Things that neither of them gave easily. He was out cold. He could be bleeding. She shook him gently. Nothing.

“Batman,” she murmured - not wanting to draw attention from outside. “Vengeance.”

Nothing. Fuck.

“Batsy,” she tried - which she knew he fucking hated - absolutely bristled at. He didn’t flinch.

She had to.

“Please don’t hate me,” she whispered as she gingerly lifted his helmet up. She pulled and pulled until it came free, but she didn’t want to look down. She didn’t want to see him bare-faced if he wasn’t going to give it to her conscious. She tried to move his head so she could check the crown of it. Black hair slipped between her fingers. If she tilted his chin - she’d see the bridge of his nose.There was an egg-sized lump at the center of his skull. She hoped his brain wasn’t bleeding.

Just as she laid his head back in her lap, he suddenly gasped.

He jerked violently - sitting up with his hands flying to his face. Another unsettled groan burst from his mouth. She winced and then shoved his mask at him - eyes firmly glued to the floor. “I was careful,” she assured him. “I had-had to check your head. I didn’t see your face.” But then he said her name and, as a damn reflex, she looked up at him.

Bruce. Wayne.

“Oh fuck,” she breathed because it actually made a lot of sense. He had to have had money. The poison of the city had killed his family. He had the motive. The means. That fucking bone structure. How could she not have known?

She blinked at him. She didn’t know how to approach him. He was like a terrified animal caught in a trap. He simply stared back at her - the muscle in his jaw flexed - his nostrils flared - the whites of his eyes vibrant and intense. He remained silent for a few moments - before yanking his mask back on.

“ But - your head,” she cautioned - her voice weak - vulnerable with uncertainty and shame. She felt like she had done something terribly wrong. Had she screwed this up? There were tears in the back of her throat. She was drowning. The last six months had given her purpose - had made her oddly content with her own loss - her own unstable grief. She had him as a friend. Had she ruined it?

He left her there.

***

Bruce stormed out of the abandoned building. His boots slipped through puddles - greased asphalt. He wasn’t even mindful of where he was going - of being so out in the open. His suit covered him. His suit kept him safe.

She’d recognized Bruce Wayne immediately. Now - she knew everything about him - who he was - what that meant - the entire sordid history of his life. His childhood splashed across gossip magazines. His adulthood peeled apart despite the fact that he had tried to hide away from all of those hungry eyes.

Granted - he’d been a little more public since the Riddler. He’d donated heaps of his wealth - started a new fund. He tried to make peace with his name.

Now - she knew him as both. Batman. Bruce.

What did that mean? Why did it matter in the long run? You didn’t even give her a chance.

He stopped. Everything inside him was at war - a hurricane of conflicting emotions. They shared things. They’d developed a quiet sort of camaraderie. He doubted that his identity would change that -

Poor Little Rich Boy

You like her.

You want her. You want her to want you as the Batman.

Bruce is helpless in that regard. Bruce is lonely and pathetic. Bruce doesn’t understand women - sex -

Bruce is not the man that she teases and taunts. Bruce doesn’t know shit.

He stepped further into the alley - toward his car.

Fuck it. He turned around. Back to her.

***

She thought it was someone else - someone marching heavily through the hallway to attack her. Another teenager - some dumb kid. Get the fuck up. You’re acting ridiculous. She couldn’t move - her limbs felt heavy and weighed in stone. They were still coming.

She frowned. The steps were too distinct. She knew them because she knew him. She glanced up and it was Batman - Bruce - rushing toward her. His entire body took up the hallway - enormous and shadowed and consuming.

“I’m sorry,” she told him as she tried to stand. “I didn’t -”

He crashed into her - stealing her breath. His lips were on hers - clumsy and damp - his hands cradling the hinge of her jaw. His thumb was digging into her cheek and he tilted their heads to deepen the kiss - his tongue nudging - curious - testing -

She grabbed at him - palms scraping up the back of his suit - brushing his cape. He buried her into the wall - the scent of old paint - smoke - and his scent, which was masculine and clean and dirty at once -

His kiss lacked finesse - lacked talent. It was frantic and unsteady, but his hands held her in place as he pinned her to the wall. He held her to him - lifted her onto her toes.

He was a virgin. He had to be or perhaps he just never kissed people, which made her simper with delight. Far - far - from a playboy.

“Bruce,” she purred and he shuddered in the circle of her arms.

***

They used his penthouse as their base. She met Alfred who appeared utterly thrilled by her presence. Even if she was another vigilante - another slightly off poor little rich girl running around and enthusiastically supporting Bruce’s violent habit.

Not wife material. Not girlfriend material, even.

“Bruce seems very fond of you,” Alfred remarked as they studied a note that the latest Gotham serial killer had left on his disemboweled victim. They’d carved a grin into the poor guy’s face. Ear to ear.

She chuckled - doubtful. “He has a funny way of showing it.”

“He can be closed off, but I know him - known him since he was a child. He cares about you.”

“I think you’re seeing things, Alfredo.”

“Uhuh,” he murmured as he turned the note to the light - a message within a message found in the thin material. “Strange,” Alfred flipped the note. “I don’t know what this is made from.”

She squinted her eyes - looking closer before inhaling sharply. “I think human skin.”

“Oh Jesus Christ.”

***

She perched on a stool as she delicately sewed up the horrifying gash in Bruce’s forearm. Her tongue peaked between her teeth. The light from the overhead lamp was raw and white - it showered his arm in stark relief. The blood was candy-red.

His kiss was sudden. The pressure of his mouth firm on her own. When he drew away, he seemed shocked that he had done it. There was a gorgeous pink flush over his cheeks. It drifted up his throat.

She bit her lip and continued sewing.

***

They were waltzing around the sex talk. They kissed - they made out like fucking teenagers after they had spent a night fighting down the knife-edge of the city. He was so quiet - so stone-faced sometimes. They’d be heaving from whatever battle they’d won or whatever battle they’d lost. The air would burn - the oxygen melting between them - the tension growing and then he’d just look at her. That was it. The world zapped to a sudden overwhelming focus that settled on Bruce. He’d storm toward her, cradling her face before dragging her to his mouth for a dirty, slick kiss. They fought with it. Pushing and pulling. He had gotten better - far more practiced, which wasn’t a surprise since he took to everything with ease. He learned and adapted.

“I want you,” he growled against her tongue. “Fuck - I can’t - I can’t think of anything else.”

His stubble would chafe her jaw and chin. She’d knock his mask off and tug his hair. His belt would dig into her hip - his hands all over her.

One night - she went farther.

“Let me give you something,” she pleaded - pushing him away until his back smacked against the column. They were at their spot - the bat sigil butter-white and frothy in the sky.

He looked confused. She could read him despite the mask.

“What are you talking about?” He asked in a low voice - ragged and dripping with hunger. “You’ve given me everything.”

Fuck her cunt clenched at that. “Trust me,” she said as she pressed her palms to his chest - as she kissed him lightly before wrenching herself away. He tried to follow with his greedy mouth, but she stopped him.

She dropped to her knees.

“What are you doing?” he rasped. She saw his skin redden against the black seal of his mask. He really was handsome - beautiful and untouchable and it was so very strange to have him like this. She constantly had him shivering beneath her touch - moaning for her - and then she’d see him fight like nothing could stop him. Legendary out there, but with her? Something secret and tender…

The sky was turning. The sherbet bloom of the sunrise peeking through the skyscrapers. The color of it: violet and blush and tangerine rupturing against the muddled gloom of Gotham. The air tasted bitterly of the smog and oil from the enormous cargo ships in the bay. She could hear the scattered chirp of morning birds. She was sore from the fighting tonight. Her neck hurt, but she still found herself reaching for his belt.

She peered up at him as she unzipped his pants. The square flex of his jaw. The stubble. The pretty pink mouth.

She gingerly eased him out. He was long - lovely - and he twitched in her hand as he filled the circle of her palm. She delicately placed her tongue at the head of his cock and he jumped.

“Easy,” she coaxed. She took him into her mouth.

***

He had to concentrate not to spend into her mouth the second he felt her tongue. It was too much. The suction of her cheeks - the hot, wet pocket behind her teeth. She was swallowing him - nearly choking on his cock as her lashes fluttered prettily up at him. She gagged - sunk down until her nose was shoved up against his groin. He had no words.

Struck. Dumb.

His hips stuttered. He found himself reaching for her hand that was resting on his thigh. He threaded his fingers with hers - curling into a knot - a tangle - don’t let go don’t let go don’t let go - i didn’t know - i didn’t know it could be like this -

***

She’d never tell him, but she lived for every moment that Bruce unwittingly revealed himself to her. His past - his likes and dislikes - his strange hobbies that didn’t involve crime fighting.

He sketched. He read the same classics over and over again: Moby Dick, Hamlet, The Grapes of Wrath, On the Road, Othello, War and Peace…

Those activities seemed on brand.

But then she found that he loved comics - that he enjoyed nineties action flicks - that he liked to take apart his cars and put them back together.

Alfred would bring them huge pieces of cherry pie if they worked late.

“Is this your favorite?” she’d tease.

He shrugged. “I guess. I liked pie as a boy. Hated ice cream.” She rolled her eyes and then he kissed her - lips sweet and sour and sticky. He deepened it - smearing maraschino-red filling along the top of her mouth.

***

He’d never tell her, but he devoured every fucking piece of herself that she gave him. Her past slipped from her in hints - vague recollections.

I loved the beach. I miss it.

I used to go to this summer camp in the mountains and got lost in the woods for two nights. I was eight - you’d be shocked by the kind of holes a small body can fit into. It was totally great.

My dad owned this bear and I named him Gabe. Fed him live salmon.

I went to med school and then had a bit of a breakdown and they put me away for a bit.

She never got farther than that. Bruce was left trying to solve the riddles of her background. He didn’t want to press her - didn’t want to upset her. They were tiptoeing around each other and all the unsaid shit between them was beginning to fester - was threatening to blow.

They could not stop touching. Not for a minute. It physically pained him to be away from her.

Every night, she found him in the cave like she always did. She straddled him - her beautiful face revealed only in the light that gleamed soft blue from his computer screen. She licked his ear - tugged the lobe between her teeth. He bucked into her - grunting - groaning - he said her name and she took it from him -

“Bruce,” She smiled around it - her teeth a half-moon in the dark.

***

It was the way he shouted her name. It pulsed with panic - desperate and horrified. She’d never heard him use that tone and she paused in her fighting - reeling back only a few inches so that the bullet meant for her chest - ripped into her shoulder.

“Oh,” she breathed - whistled. “Shit.”

She stumbled to her knees - boots splashing up dirty puddle water. Another storm had slickened the city - had made it difficult to see who she was fighting. She groaned as she scrambled to plug up the blood squirting from the tiny hole in her suit.

Fuck.

She pawed uselessly. Her visions swam and drifted. She heard Bruce. She heard him speak to her - call to her - baby

She came to underground with nothing but shadows above her. She raised her head - the pain splintered through her - but she wanted - she needed to see -

Bruce was sitting there - his expression broke into tangible relief.

***

He had not felt fear like that in a long time - well since Alfred. But it had still been different. The grief in him. The anxiety. The debilitating terror that she could be dead and he’d be alone again. He’d lose her before he knew her - really knew her - he couldn’t stand it.

He’d carried her back to the cave - frantic - panicked - shouting for Alfred to help him. When they unzipped her suit - blood had spilled with it - pooled around her shoulder - staining her skin.

He held her hand. He brushed his lips over each knuckle. “Don’t,” he growled - demanded of her. “Don’t you fucking dare.”

***

“Like this?” he murmured as he dipped his head lower. She arched - her feet kicking against the mattress. The bandage around her shoulder served as a constant reminder. He lapped - dragged his tongue and used his fingers.

“Shit-t,” she whimpered. “Where - where did you learn that?”

“Never done it before,” he muttered against her folds. She tasted good - slightly salty - musky - the hint of sweet that got clearer with every lick. The room ached with sex. She was all over him. He was hard as a rock - he’d probably blow in his sweats.

“You’re lying.”

He lifted himself up to look at her - amused. His chin felt sticky. “When would I have the time to do this with anyone else?”

She narrowed her eyes. “I don’t know. I don’t know what you do when you’re not with me.”

“Think of you,” he quipped. “Obviously.”

It rolled off his tongue so easily - the flirtation - the truth of it. He was being sincere and the effect it had on her was stunning. She beamed and wiggled closer to him. He slapped her thigh.

“Now shut up and let me eat you.”

He returned to her cunt. It was gaping for him - clenching around his knuckles. It was pretty - shiny and glossy and calling to him. He latched his mouth to her clit and she shrieked. He held her down with his forearm banding over her hips. She fisted his hair - grinding into his face and he drowned in her - smug and pleased when he felt her pussy spasm around his fingers. It leaked all over his bed. She wailed and he felt the exact moment that she released and gave in. It beautifully echoed against the walls - sprang against the wallpaper his mother had picked out that he refused to remove

He’d never tell her that he’d spent five hours studying videos and reading articles on oral sex. He took notes.

***

It happened on a mundane night. They were on the shitty cot in the cave -the one he’d pass out on when he’d get too tired. The serial killer responsible for the ghoulish grins and skin notes was still at large.

Bruce was frustrated and her eyes were beginning to cross from the amount of files she’d read. Yellowed pages. The smell of old libraries. She was at a loss.

“We should sleep,” she suggested. “I should probably go back to my place. I need to -”

“No,” he protested and then was right up in front of her - chest to chest. “This psycho is still out there.”

Her lips quirked. “I can handle myself.”

He gripped her injured shoulder and squeezed it. She yelped. “No - you can’t.”

She knew this Bruce. It was when he got in his own head. Too protective. Too anxious. Fearful.

“It’ll be fine.”

“No it won’t.”

“You’re being a fucking dick.”

“I don’t care.”

“You’re -”

He kissed her to shut her up. He probably only meant it to be that. A kiss. His apology wrapped up in - let me make you feel good -

She wanted more. She wanted all of him. She wanted to possess him because the intimacy with him had been nice. Consensual. Beautiful. On fucking fire. She grabbed the back of his head to haul him closer. He gripped her hips and then her ass as he lifted her onto her toes.

He crowded her - deepening the kiss until it hurt - until their teeth clicked together. The back of her knees hit the cot and when she fell on top of it -it creaked and squealed. He followed her - crowding her body into the mattress - clutching her wrists and pinning them above her head.

“Fuck me,” she whispered as she licked his mouth - as she spread her thighs for him.

His black-blue eyes widened - his lips swollen and bruised from her kissing gaped in surprise. He frowned. His brow creased and those vibrant eyes of his bloomed with shadows - with secrets and concerns and fear. Vulnerable.

“Stop dwelling,” she ordered as she pulled her wrists from his grip. She found the band of his pants and shoved them down until she felt the hard length of him bounce against her skin. He softened minutely. He grunted. Thank God she’d worn a dress because it took nothing to yank it up - took nothing for Bruce’s gaze to shift into something ravenous as he reached beneath it, curling his fingers around her panties and ripping them off.

He blinked - his gaze stupefied as it traveled from the fabric in his hands to her pussy.

“Fuck - sorry,” he mumbled - scooting backward. She rolled her eyes, putting her fingers to his mouth.

“Stop,” she warned. “You can buy me a new pair.”

“If only I could afford it.” He quipped wryly.

He was joking. This was good.

“C’mere..” He did - climbing over her - wedging himself between her legs.

She felt the head of his cock smear against her thigh. She reached down - touching it - enjoying the velvet slide of his length. She watched as he thrust into the circle of her fist - the swollen red tip appearing and disappearing in her grip. She spread herself wider.

She lifted her chin and he caught her mouth tenderly - sweet as kisses between them went. “Should we?” He stumbled through it. “Do we need something?” he finally managed and she shook her head.

“Safe,” she smiled as she guided his cock closer. “Safe.”

He bit his lip - his chest rising and falling. Sweat beaded at his hairline. “I trust you, Bruce.”

***

He buried himself too fast at first. It punched a whine from her throat - it made her dig her nails into his ribs. He immediately tried drawing back, but she held him to her. “No - no - keep going -”

She didn’t realize that it would hurt. She knew he was big - she had blown him for fuck’s sake. Inside her though - inside her pussy - he was stretching her - making room for himself. Her head fell back on the pillow. He hadn’t moved - simply remained rigid between her parted legs. His body was shivering against her.

“You can -”

“I know,” he snapped before softening his tone. “I know - sorry - give me - fuck - give me a minute.”

Her tits were smashed against his chest and there was the audible thrum of his heart. Slowly - he began to move. He eased himself back - the tip still inside her before he drove forward. He did it again. Again. He rubbed their noses together and her hands cradled the back of his skull - threaded through his damp hair.

“Kiss me,” she pleaded and he did - his brow wrinkled with concentration - his lids heavy. She’d never seen him look like this - warm and buttery with pleasure. He continued and the springs under them squeaked. He panted in her ear.

“You feel perfect,” he praised in a low voice. “Perfect.”

***

He ran his calloused fingertips over the tattoo that wrapped around her hip - her thigh. The gray, wispy outline of ivy. He did not know it would be like this.

Of course - he could have guessed. He could have assumed. He knew how it felt to fuck his spit-slick fist. Her mouth. But sex - fucking her - this girl he had found - who had found him - who clung to him and relied on him and saw him at his worst and at his best (if he had one best).

Her breasts bounced. Her grip on him grew tighter. He sank as far as he could - wanting to reach the end of her.

Bruce felt as if he only existed to suffer - that he had, unconsciously or consciously, made an art of it. He had been fueled by a cold sort of rage - icy and terrible and similar to an illness. As he watched her smile at him - her lovely lips parting with every clumsy stroke he delivered, he realized that he had never truly lived.

The punishments he dealt in Gotham were inexorable - again and again. A snake eating its own tail. He removed the cancer and ten rotten cells would spring up in its wake. His forearms framed her face as he dropped his head to claim another frantic kiss. His tongue slid overs hers - tasted the cup of her mouth as he fucked her.

Was this fucking? Or was this something else? Making love sounded too serious and yet -

Bruce was a serious guy.

“Oh my god,” she panted as he picked up his pace - as he slowly got the hang of it. After all, sex was organic - it had been sewn into every human’s foundation. He could have had women. Several. But he just hadn’t thought of it - hadn’t considered the idea of sharing his life with anyone besides Alfred and his cold, barren home and who had time when there was change to be done - to be made. That had been his love.

His love was vengeance.

He had watched her - this girl who beat and maimed lecherous man after lecherous man and he had felt her truth - her desire lost in the blood she shed. Vengeance. Love. The same. Their lives had been emptier for it and what a thing to discover now? That events had been wasted. Years lost. They had both figured they’d die young.

“Bruce,” she whimpered and he returned his attention to her. He broke for her - a puddle - a fucking sap. He thought of only her - all the time - always.

She was tight and hot - her nails dug into his biceps and their kisses had changed to something feral - unhinged - out of control. He was murmuring against her lips - swallowing her moans as he thrust deep.

“You feel…” he husked - overwhelmed. “You feel so - so fucking good.” He definitely already said that. He had lost all sense. It was true though.

She did. She was nodding at him - her eyes wide and brilliant in the dark of their cave. He’d always considered it a shell - a place to rest between all the fighting. Not really a sanctuary. He regarded it differently now. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever be able to stare down at this cot or even the black sheets of his bed upstairs and not see her splayed out before him.

“More,” She wrapped herself around his torso - bit into the muscle of his shoulder. He replied by planting his knees and clinging to the top of the mattress to leverage his weight before sliding into her more fiercely - punishing - the same violence of a hit.

“Harder,” she gasped on a particularly rough snap of his hips. Every drive of his cock into her soaked heat made a lewd noise - echoed against the rock. The cheap iron railing rammed into the wall - thwack thwack thwack - as he curled his fingers under her knee and hitched her thigh higher over his waist.

“Did you want this?” She touched his face - ran her knuckles down his cheek. It caught him off guard - the sweetness of her question. The sincerity in her voice. He never thought her sweet - she was far too prickly - swathed in thorns and that particular venom that he could taste off her skin. He had shaved down her edges just enough or maybe she’d done it herself.

“Tell me,” she implored - hiccuping - boneless.

He laughed - soft and breathy - before once more lowering his head so he could kiss her. He pulled back - just enough that his eyes bore into her own - just enough that he could tangle his hand through her hair and lift her face to his. “How could you think I’d want anything else?” he mumbled as he tilted her chin - dragging his cock slowly and sensually into her - grinding deep. He brushed his lips along her jaw - her throat. Her breathing cracked. It was comical, really. He’d given his consent just as she had given him hers. Here he was - fucking a beautiful, dangerous woman into his mattress for the first time and she still had to question him.

It surprised him. Perhaps, she was more unsure of herself than he had thought. Perhaps - she was just like him in that regard. Two people desperate for the comfort of a home that had long since escaped them.

***

He could feel her on him - inside him. He was wet with her. Drained.

“Bruce,” she hummed - tracing her fingers over his arm - through the dark hair on pale skin. She said his name often - repeated it all the damn time. He’d asked her why once.

Because it’s you. You’re not The Batman to me. Even in that suit. Just Bruce.

“Should we go out?” she murmured - burrowing her face into his throat - his hair. Her breath fell warm and soft on his flesh like the touch of the sun. “Fight something?”

“Can I just hold you?” His voice was more reticent than he had meant to sound. He had given himself to her. He already wanted more. She clung tighter to him.

[ymiwritesstuff]

The Limits of a Hero

Hello hello, I’m here to bring you something rather special. A quick fun fact: When I started writing years ago, Link was actually the first character I ever wrote for, so this piece is sort of going back to my roots as a writer. That, and I’ve been in a HUGE Twilight Princess mood lately, (I recently bought a few volumes of the manga and I am very much enjoying it) so I thought I’d write this quick thing for my favorite incarnation of Link. I hope those of you who also like him will enjoy this.

The Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess

Link x Reader

Summary: During a seemingly ordinary night out in the woods you decide to give the hero a much needed chance to rest.

Notes: Fluff, some light angst

The tree trunk felt rough against your back, but it provided a much-needed opportunity to finally rest and recollect your energy after yet another day of fighting against the twilight and its corrupt ruler. Yet you found a strange calm when surrounded by the night, the warm flames of the campfire swaying in the cool wind.

The wood crackled, the breeze howled and your eyelids grew heavy. You wouldn’t close them, however. Not yet. Instead, you kept your (E/C) eyes on the glowing fire, occasionally throwing in a stick or two to make sure your source of heat wouldn’t disappear.

Your thoughts wandered, as they often did ever since you were thrown into this dangerous adventure. How did everything change so fast? You could still hear the water trickling down the waterwheel in Ordon as if it was yesterday. Everything had gone wrong so fast, and now you were trying to save the entire kingdom from something you didn’t fully understand.

You knew it was the same for Link. But unlike you, he was much better at suppressing his confusion and doubts. You had noticed a change in him, no doubt caused by the sudden responsibility laid upon his broad shoulders. In addition to the more obvious changes in his attire, his cerulean eyes lost some of their glow, he somehow grew even more silent and he didn’t smile as often. All because he felt that his role as the hero chosen by the Gods demanded it.

It must have been tiring, you thought, yet he pressed on, never once letting even a single mention of how much it all weighed down on him slip from his lips. But you could see it. Whether it was in the way his shoulders fell with a sigh whenever he finished slaughtering a group of Bokoblins or how he yawned and stretched his arms almost every time he hopped off Epona. His body was fatigued, but his eyes held nothing but determination.

The rustling of leaves that came from behind snapped you back to reality, and your eyes fell on the bush where the grey animal soon emerged from, carrying something in his mouth the edges of which and a part of his lower body was seemingly damp. You watched as he walked with heavy steps towards the fire before dropping the thing you recognized to be a Hyrule Bass on the ground.

The fish flopped on the dirt and you found yourself raising a confused eyebrow at him, before locating his fishing rod not too far away from the fire, indicating that he had forgotten to take it with him. You looked at the fish again.

“Are we this desperate?” You managed to ask him as his beastly form quickly reverted to his original form you were familiar with. He sat on the ground and gave you a slight nod.

“We’re running low on food,” he said, taking a sip from his bottle of water. Most of his equipment was laying on the ground, though he was still fully clad in his green tunic, chainmail and all.

You noticed him taking out a small knife, no doubt intending to use it to prepare the freshly caught fish. He would not dare use his sacred sword for such a task. The bass was fairly big, enough for both of you, you surmised.

“I can take care of it,” you offered, noticing the tired look in his eyes as they turned to you. He shook his head lightly.

“It’s fine, (Name),” he assured and began cutting into the flesh, but you persisted.

“You haven’t slept properly in days.” It had been an exhausting few days, filled to the brim with battles against Shadow Beasts and other enemies. It took its toll on both of you yet he showed no outward signs of fatigue. Not that it was necessary, for right now, anyone could see the dark circles and bags under his otherwise gorgeous eyes.

He glanced at you, clearly pondering over your words while continuing to cut the fish. You were right, as you often were. He was exhausted, but the selflessness in him didn’t want you to lose any of the sleep you needed.

“Someone has to keep watch,” he began, but you quickly shut him down.

“Which I can do.”

You scooted over to him, noticing him making the final cuts to the scaly flesh of the fish. Placing a hand on top of his, you kept your eyes on him, trying to convince him.

“You need to rest, Link. Please.”

Upon hearing your voice that left your lips as a quiet plea he finally gave in, letting out a sigh that carried all his exhaustion into the air and letting go of the knife. He finally turned to you, his drained eyes glowing in silent relief.

“Will you be alright? You know you can wake me up any time if-”

“I’ll be fine. The only thing you need to worry about is getting some sleep.”

Your hand reached up to slowly remove his cap, exposing his dirty blond hair that bathed in the glowing embers of the campfire. You offered him a smile equally warm as the flames which he thankfully returned.

Planting the tiniest kiss on his cheek, you retreated from him, once again leaning against a lone tree. With your hand you lightly patted your lap, wanting the hero in front of you to have the best possible chance at getting a good night’s rest.

He laid his weary head on your lap and almost immediately, he let out a long yawn that indicated just how much he needed this, despite his stubborn protests. Your fingers found their way into his hair, running through his locks in a soothing manner.

Silence fell around you, though it was a refreshing change from the usual noises of battle and struggles. You stared at the fire once again, its welcoming warmth enveloping both of you.

“You’ve changed,” you admitted, thinking back to the simpler times, during which Link would have been more than compliant to sleep when he needed it. He let out a soft sigh, his eyes glued to the starlit sky above.

“I guess I have,” he agreed. You wondered if he meant it to the same degree as you did. Even now, you noticed the solemn expression on his face you had never seen back home.

Home. You thought about it a lot. Maybe a little too much at times. Ordon meant a lot to you, even more to Link you assumed. Perhaps that’s why he had gotten so stoic and serious. He was merely trying to protect what he held dear.

It was admirable, he was, by all accounts, a hero. Courageous, selfless, strong, yet still a mere Hylian. A capable Hylian indeed, but still a Hylian. A Hylian who the entire kingdom needed to save them. Everyone expected so much of him, it seemed as if he himself forgot his limits.

“You’re not all-powerful, Link.”

Your eyes fell on him, and his own looked up at you. Someone needed to be his voice of reason, and you were more than willing to take that role if it meant ensuring his safety when he sometimes couldn’t.

“Maybe I should be.”

Your eyebrows frowned at that. You knew he felt a certain sense of guilt about what happened to the children of the village. They were safe now, but there was a stinging sensation of shame embedded in him that made him feel responsible for all of it.

“Don’t say that. You did all you could. Pushing yourself to the point where you can’t stay up anymore won’t solve anything.”

He knew you were right. You almost always were. Link had always secretly wondered if it was a blessing that it was you who had accidentally stumbled across the same wall of Twilight that had transformed him into a beast. In all honesty, he was thankful.

“I’m just... Worried about you,” you confessed, feeling a small sense of dread in the core of your being. Just thinking about what could happen to him if he didn’t take care of himself made your stomach churn.

A troubled look fell on his face, as if he was feeling guilty about making your eyes fill with concern. You inhaled deeply and pressed your lips on his forehead, not wanting your own uneasiness make him anxious.

“Rest now. I’ll keep watch.”

With a small nod, he allowed his heavy eyelids to close and it didn’t take long for him to fall asleep, soft snores escaping his mouth that was partially agape.

For the first time in days, he looked truly peaceful. His body relaxed, rid of any signs of stress or tension, the only movement being that of his chest, moving up and down due to his steady breathing. With a smile you continued running your digits through his hair, hoping to comfort him even in his dreams you could only hope were as tranquil as your current surroundings.

“Goodnight, Link.”

[vzorexa]

冰 。 @rosemourne​​ 。𝖠𝖫𝖡𝖤𝖣𝖮 ∥ 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗎𝖾𝖽 。

 some  things  in  this  world,  albedo  has  found,  cannot  be  quantified  down  to  science  or  numbers  or  chemical  reactions.  many  of  said  mysterious  equations  are  stemmed  from  the  human  condition  itself  -  or  their  utterly  unpredictable  behaviors.  one  would  assume  he  had  long  since  given  up  on  attempting  to  placate  his  mind  with  some  sort  of  rational  language  for  mortal  behavior  -  but  every  time  he  did,  someone’s  actions  blew  any  theories  he  had  constructed  out  of  the  water,  and  the  kreideprinz  was  back  at  square  one. klee’s  behavior  was,  of  course,  a  prime  example  of  this.  a  child  that  was,  for  all  intents  and  purposes,  abandoned  by  her  family,  yet  living  with  the  kind  of  affable  cheerfulness  that  albedo  couldn’t  begin  to  quantify.  it  was  one  of  the  reasons  he  found  her  so  endearing,  and  simultaneously  fascinating.  and  ALSO  the  major  reason  he  cared  enough  to  assist  in  the  clean  up  of  any  of  her  wayward  messes  at  all.  especially  when  it  involved  venturing  close  to  the  city.  the  city  meant  people.  people  meant  interaction.  albedo  hated  interacting  with  anyone  beyond  a  total  of  five  people,  and  number  two  was  approaching. the  alchemist  had  been  staring  at  cider  lake  (and  the  scorched  grass  around  it),  with  his  hands  on  his  hips,  watching  as  the  sun  set  gently  over  the  horizon  of  mondstadt.  sucrose  and  timaeus  bustled  about,  a  strange  powered  concoction  being  dumped  upon  the  blades  of  dead  foliage  at  albedo’s  behest.  he  hears  that  familiar  voice  -  a  silken  tone  that  reminds  him  of  the  feeling  of  soft  sheets  against  flesh,  or  the  burn  of  whiskey  down  his  throat.  the  alchemist  turns  slowly,  and  when  his  gaze  fixes  on  kaeya’s  own,  he  swears  he  feels  the  golden  mark  at  his  neck  throb  in  recognition. creation’s  gaze  softens  imperceptibly  for  the  cavalry  captain,  and  albedo’s  hands  drop  from  his  hips,  while  the  vaguest  hint  of  mirth  finds  his  perfectly  beautiful  features. “that  depends,”  he  finds  himself  saying, “are  you  interested  in  spreading  about  calcified  mist  flower  powder  or  cleaning  up  the  occasional  dead  fish  carcass  that  has  washed  up?”  his  stare  is  intense.  it  always  is.  perhaps  it’s  the  way  he  sees  right  through  kaeya,  sees  what  they  share,  perhaps.  or  maybe  he  doesn’t.  it’s  impossible  to  tell  with  albedo. “moral  support  is  also  appreciated.”  because  yes,  the  area  did  smell  like  barbecued  fish.

        The task at hand should pose no difficulty to comprehend. His men had already brought it upon themselves to initiate the cleanup even without being told. Thoughtlessly, Kaeya had watched one of the knights tiptoe along the bay, lifting a bass by the tail as its remains drip sludge on ground. A sight he willingly parted in exchange of the source of the curious and lulling tone, — his fellow captain. A presence that ineffably granted some refuge from his spurring thoughts. 

        Albedo had always held a demeanor that is vague yet amiable. Serene despite the wreckage in the background. A true testament of how the prettiest, enigmatic things do thrive midst havoc and its ruins. 

        There was one tense beat as his unshrouded eye meets with crystalline turquoises of the alchemist’s careful and grasping look. While there’s always a potent threat to drown oneself in its confines of scrutiny, Kaeya chose to waver, at least,  — for now. 

        Not to mind the sudden blaze of eagerness that seem to flicker out of nowhere.

          ❛ Guess it can’t be helped. ❜ he relinquished with a helpless sigh, albeit there is no speck of hesitation when he reached to unclasp the buttons securing his feathery cape,  ❛ We ought to get our hands dirty once in a while, no? ❜ 

         Reaching for a nearby bowl of powder, he studied it in passing. Kaeya would have loved to know the details behind science of it all, - not quite of its meticulous processes but more with its source. Although Kaeya does not present himself bookish, he had read enough to be aware that its execution is unmentioned on most modern books of alchemy, and yet, Albedo seems to practice it by heart. Not very surprising in thought, but nonetheless, intriguing. 

         ❛ Although, ❜ Kaeya quickly quips after readjusting, tanned featured donned with an easy grin. Keeping his curiosities in mind, he notes it’s a puzzle to decode another day. Instead, he diverts on a different kind of curiosity altogether, ❛ I absolutely wouldn’t mind our Sir Alchemist’s moral support. ❜    

[berrynarrybanana]

My Only Angel

A/N: A rewrite of one my favorite pieces that I’ve ever done. I added an entire extra part onto it and I hope that you all enjoy the new addition. 

Warnings: Smut, alcohol use, mentions of drug use, tiny bit of a daddy kink

Word Count: 5k+

I promise to edit this later, but for now, I am posting this as is! 

Masterlist 

The bass was shaking the sticky floor of the club, shooting straight up your spine as you swayed on your sore feet. It had been a long night and you were slowly starting to fade. The party was dwindling down, some of your friends trailing off to the bathroom to do lines before they moved onto the next party that would surely be held at someone’s flat. You were leaning heavily against Harry, his large (and deliciously warm) palm resting on your side as you sipped at the water in your hands. Your head found his shoulder almost an hour ago, the soft tendrils of his curls tickling your bare shoulders and collarbones as he chatted with one of your mutual friends. 

Harry had been trying to get away from the conversation for the last sixty minutes, squeezing your side sympathetically every time Nick brought up a new topic to chat about. It was only after someone pulled Nick’s attention away that you were able to escape from the elitist bar with Harry’s blazer draped over your shoulders. His fingers easily tangled with yours as he pushed the front door open, flashes greeting your heavy eyes aggressively. You knew the drill better than you knew most of the people Harry considered friends. Keep your head down, eyes on your feet, let Harry lead the way, and don’t talk. It wasn’t hard to do in theory, but in practice it proved to be a little bit harder than it sounded.

Harry shut the door behind you, jumping as a pap started to smack the glass. Harry’s driver, Benny, was quick to step on the gas at Harry’s command. Harry’s right hand slipped over your knee as the fingers on his left hand started to toy with his bottom lip nervously. You gave him a soft, reassuring smile when he looked in your direction with concerned eyes. He let out a shuddery sigh of relief before leaning over to kiss your forehead. You tucked yourself into his side once more, letting your eyes drift shut as Harry pulled out his phone. 

When you finally made it into his newly renovated home, you let out a content sigh. Lifting one leg at a time, you pulled at the straps of your heels until they fell in a heap by the front door. It wasn’t like you wouldn’t pick them up later and pack them away again. You were only here for a few days before you traveled off to another destination for work. As much as you hated it at times, you owed your demanding and stressful career for giving you Harry. Without a work trip to Amsterdam, you wouldn’t be sitting on his kitchen island while he kissed your lips. 

“Missed you.” He brushed his nose against yours as you let out a soft hum, your chapped lips curving into a smile. “How long ‘ave we got?”

“Four days.” You brushed your fingers against the crisp, white fabric of his button up. “But I don’t intend on leaving this house for anything.”

“S’that so?” He chuckled, ducking his head down bashfully. “Not even to visit Mum for a night?”

“Doesn’t sound half bad, I have to admit.” Your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer as you peppered kisses over his forehead. “I do miss her sangria.”

“I’ll let her know to make a batch.”

Your head tilted back, a breathy sigh of pleasure escaping from your lips as he sponged kisses over your collarbone. You felt it in your core first, the soft aching reminding you that it had been a while since you’d last been with Harry. If you remembered correctly, it had been at least six months since you’d last had him in a tiny Paris hotel room. It had been six months since you’d felt him, really felt him give it to you like you needed. Just as your fingernails dug into his broad shoulders, the doorbell rang out loudly. It made you jump, causing Harry to laugh into your neck before he pulled away. 

“Ordered us some food.” He pressed a fleeting kiss to the corner of your mouth. “I’ll be right back, angel.”

You watched him walk away with a pout on your lips and an unsatisfied throbbing between your legs. Had he been quick enough, he could have had you on the countertop before the food arrived. A quickie was better than nothing, and right now that’s what you had - nothing. Impatiently you waited for Harry’s return, gripping the edge of the counter with puffed out cheeks as your feet swung back and forth. Your heels tapped against the sleek cabinets softly as you looked over his kitchen, The remodel was finally done and you were so proud of what Harry had done with his London home. It was undeniably him, from the cabinets to the paint in his bedroom. A smile graced your lips when you noticed a picture of you and Harry hung in a cluster of photos on the wall. 

You were sandwiched between a picture of Harry with the band, and a picture of Gemma and Harry on the beach. You were so enamored with the pictures on his wall that you almost didn’t notice him walking back into the kitchen. Without the light flipping on suddenly, you probably wouldn’t have noticed him. A groan left your lips at the sudden brightness, and a chuckle left his at the sound of your annoyed noise. He set the takeout bag on his countertop before turning towards the cabinets opposite of where you sat. Two plates later and Harry was by your side, scooping chips onto your plate with his nimble fingers. He handed you the white, ceramic plate with a quick peck before he turned back to make his own plate up. 

“Sir,” You hummed out, popping a chip into your mouth, “Where is my malt vinegar and tomato sauce.”

“It’s comin’, angel.” He snorted, shaking his head before he lifted his thumb to his mouth. 

Your face paled and your lips parted as you watched him suck the salt off the tip of his finger absentmindedly. He turned around on socked heels, moving towards the brand new fridge to retrieve the condiments you requested. He held the bottles between his fingers, reaching out for his plate with one hand before he nodded towards the doorway of his kitchen. 

“Let’s take this upstairs and get comfortable.” He suggested. “I’m dying to get out of these bloody jeans.”

“They keep getting tighter and tighter, don’t they.” Your eyebrows moved in a suggestive manner as Harry rolled his eyes, turning his back towards you as you hopped from the countertop. “I do have to say I’m enjoying it.”

“You already know how big my dick is, there’s not really much left for you to imagine.” He snorted out a laugh as you both walked down the hallway, towards the staircase. 

“Your bum looks really fucking good in them though.” With a soft pinch to his rounded cheek, you proved your point.

“Oi!” Harry jumped, shooting a playful glare over his shoulders. “Keep your hands to yourself, missus. I don’t need my house smelling like malt vinegar because your grabby hands made me drop the bottle.” 

“You love my grabby hands.” You giggled as you followed him up the staircase. “Have I told you that I love the remodel yet?”

“Mentioned it once or twice.” He chuckled lowly. “Thank you for all of your very strong opinions on the color palette, by the way.”

“You’re very welcome.” You hummed out, reaching for a chip as you cleared the last few steps of the staircase. “I think it looks really nice.”

“I really like the darker tones that you picked.” He pushed his bedroom door open with his elbow, revealing the emerald, burnt orange, and blush tones of his bedroom. “I especially love your idea for the bedroom.”

“It’s almost as if people pay me to write about this kind of stuff.” You snorted, setting your plate down on the side of his bed that you claimed over a year ago. “Wild.”

“Piss off.” He rolled his eyes, setting his own plate on the velvet comforter. “Go ahead and make yourself comfortable. I’ll bring you something comfy to change into.”

“Mkay.” You effortlessly lifted the hem of your little black dress over your head, dropping the garment to the floor before you slid under the emerald sheets. 

The rich, jewel tones combined with the blush and light tan created the perfect seventies rockstar vibe. The shapes and artwork on his wall brought pieces of his favorite time period to his everyday life, fueling his inspiration as continued to embark on his musical journey. After Harry returned, already dressed in his pajamas, you took the vintage band shirt he offered with a smile. You slipped it over your body as he climbed in bed next to you. The two of you settled into a comfortable silence, eating your late night fish and chips with content hums and greasy fingers. You felt your head start to come down from the high the tequila brought you, the dizzy cloud hanging over your head drifting away with each bite you took. When you were finished with your food, Harry disappeared with your dirty plates before returning with two large glasses of water. He turned the lights off in the bedroom, handing you a glass with firm instruction. 

“Drink up.” He started to sip at his own water as you rolled your eyes, tipping the glass back like you were asked. 

When your water was downed and you were finally laying down next to Harry, you reached up to brush your knuckles over his cheek with a sleepy smile. 

“Hi.” You whispered. 

“Hello, lovely.” He turned his head, kissing your wrist softly. “I’m glad to have you back for a while. It’s been far too long since we’ve caught up.”

“I know.” Your hips wiggled until you were nearly flush with Harry’s front, your legs slotted between his as your hand brushed over his side. “I missed you.”

“I missed you.” He mumbled against your forehead. “Don’t leave me for so long again.”

“If I recall, you left me in Los Angeles.” With a tilt of your head, you capture his lips with your own in a tender and slow kiss. 

Everything was innocent until your hand slipped between your bodies, subtly palming his cock through the plaid of his pajama pants. Harry gasped when you bit down on his lower lip, palming him with a little more enthusiasm than before. It didn’t take long for Harry to have you on your back, his hips pressing yours into the mattress with little rolls and grinds. Desperate hands pushed under soft shirts, grasping at clammy skin as Harry started to kick the duvet towards the end of the bed. When his lips started to trail over your jaw, and down your neck, you started to lose the patience you had stored up. 

You didn’t want to wait any longer. 

Impatiently, you tugged at Harry’s shirt until it was over his head and on the floor alongside your dress. Your shirt was the next to go, falling in a heap with the other fabric as Harry sponged kisses over the swell of your breast. 

“Harry,” You gasped as his tongue swirled over your nipple. “Please, baby.”

“M’getting there.” His voice was low and hoarse as he moved to your other breast “Let me take my time, angel.”

“Please, Harry.” Your fingers scratched lightly against his back as your hips lifted up. “I can’t wait.”

He lifted his head from the crook of your neck, looking down at your face with a smug grin. 

“You need it that bad, angel?” Sparse kisses were left over your warm cheek as Harry waited for your answer. “Need to hear you say it.”

“I need you.” You whispered. “I need you to fuck me.”

“There’s my good girl.” 

His lips pressed into yours hungrily as your hands pushed his pajama pants down. 

You gripped his bum, making sure to dig your nails into the sensitive skin softly. Your giggle was drowned out by the groan that vibrated against your lips. He didn’t stop though, his tongue slipping over yours as he pushed your panties to the side. Your hand worked over his cock in long, slow pumps as he panted against your lips. Soon, he was the one who was desperate to be inside of you. His hips were rutting into your hand, the leaking tip of his cock bumping against your soft thigh as you continued to tease him. 

“Thought you needed me.” He let out a breathy chuckle, glancing between your naked bodies to watch your hand stroking over his cock. “Let me in, angel.”

“I’m having fun.” You whispered, adjusting your head on the mound of soft pillow behind you as Harry looked into your eyes. 

“I’m not.” He grumbled. “Promise to make it so good for you, angel.” 

“I know it’ll be good.” You lifted your chin, puckering your lips out. “Kiss me.”

When his lips met yours, you guided the head of his cock towards your entrance. 

It took him no time at all to sink into your velvety walls. 

When you initiated this, you assumed the movements between you would be fast and desperate. You were both tired and sobering up, the clock reading well past three a.m. on Harry’s bedside table. In theory, you should be trying your best to rub one out before passing out in a heap in the middle of the bed. But Harry refused to let your first time after six months apart be rushed and desperate. His thrusts were planned and deliberate, sharp and precise as he hovered over your body with hungry eyes and a clenched jaw. His curls brushed against your neck and your chest, causing you to giggle and shrink away from time to time. 

“I swear to fuck I’ve never felt anything so heavenly.” Harry gasped against your cheek before his head tilted down. He watched his cock, coated in your combined arousal, plunging in and out of your needy walls. “So tight and wet fo’ me, aren’t you angel.”

“Yes.” Your fingernails dug into the slick skin of his sides, searching for something to keep you anchored to this earth. “I’m close.”

“Can feel it.” He nipped at your bottom lip. “Squeezing me so tight.”

“Are you close?” A whimper followed your question, the head of Harry’s cock nudging the perfect spot in your walls. “Fuck, H.”

“Yeah, angel, I’m right there.” Nimble and calloused fingers started to circle your clit, moving in the direction that never failed to push you over the edge. “Cum fo’ me, love. Cum on your favorite cock.”

Your lips parted, breath catching in your throat as you clenched your eyes shut. 

The tight knot in your lower belly exploded, causing your toes to curl into the sheets and your hips to lift off the bed. Soon, they were pushed right back down as Harry grunted into your collarbone, his hips pushing forward as his cum coated your walls. The skin of his chest against yours was tacky and warm, sweat shared between you both as his arms wrapped around your torso to keep you close as your walls milked his cock.

When all was said and done, you were sprawled over Harry’s chest. 

Your fingers trailed over his butterfly tattoo as you tried to keep the blissful smile from your lips. 

“I love you.” Harry’s nose nuzzled into the hair at the top of your head, his words causing your finger - and your steady breathing- to stop. “I love you so fucking much and I’m tired of pretending that I don’t. I’m tired of going to these parties and spending our nights out with those people. I’m tired of acting like this is just something we do when we’re bored of everyone else, Y/N. I love you and I need to know if you feel the same way.”

Your eyes watered, a happy emotion bubbling up in your chest as you tried to process his words. 

Harry loved you. 

Harry loved you. 

Harry loved you.

“You were never just something to pass the time when I was bored.” You croaked out, lifting your head up as a few tears fell onto his chest. “I’ve always loved you, Harry, and I don’t ever want to let you go.”

“M’yours if you’ll have me.” His voice was gruff as he lifted a hand, brushing his thumb over your soft cheek to catch your tears. “I promise.”

“If you’re mine, them I’m yours.” You pushed forward, connecting your lips. “S’about time you made a move. You’ve been calling me missus for years.”

You snuggled back into Harry’s chest as he let out a tired chuckle. 

“Always knew you’d be my missus one day.” He mumbled. “Gonna keep you around forever, angel.”

                                                     🕊🕊🕊🕊🕊

You had the string of the tea bag twirled around your forefinger.

Slowly, you dipped it into the mug of steaming water, humming along to the record you put on Harry’s vinyl player in the corner of his kitchen. Even after your very late, and very active night, you couldn’t find it in yourself to stay in bed past seven, no matter how hard you tried. That was something you had in common with Harry. You were both early risers, your natural body clocks pulling you out of slumber as the sun started to rise in the sky. 

After laying in bed for an hour with open eyes and a silly smile, replaying Harry’s words from the night before, you decided to stumble out of bed for a cup of tea. You slipped Harry’s discarded pajama pants, pulling the red and black checked flannel up your legs and over your hips before you grabbed his shirt. It was one of your favorite shirts he owned and you knew that he would have some choice words to share with you when he saw the fabric hanging off your frame. 

You set Harry’s mug aside as your tea steeped, leaving the bag in his mug without any added water. If you were going to get some work done while you could, you didn’t want his tea to go cold on the counter. Blowing the steaming liquid in your mug gently, you turned towards your laptop on the kitchen island, pressing your hip against the edge of the granite countertop. Your mug found it’s home by your left hand as you powered up your laptop. 

Harry liked to joke that you were a workaholic and that you needed to learn about work life balance, but you would always snort at his words and roll your eyes. He knew he was being hypocritical, but he loved getting a rise out of you from time to time. If you were being honest, you loved letting him do it. When your laptop was on, you started to move the wireless mouse around the granite countertop, squinting your eyes at the picture your editor sent you. As you lifted your mug of tea to your lips, you heard the shuffling of socked feet against the hallway floors. A happy smile pulled at the corner of your lips when Harry’s lips pressed into the back of your head, his fingers curling around your shoulder to stable himself as you put your tea down. 

“Woke up this mornin’ and I couldn’t find my pajamas.” His voice was still thick with sleep, his words cracking on every other syllable. “But I guess I’ve found the culprit.”

“Guess so.” You chuckled softly, tilting your head back as you lifted your hand to squeeze his fingers that rested against your shoulder. “Kettle is still hot.”

“You mean to tell me-” His arms were quick to slip around your body, pulling you close as he whispered in your ear. “You stole my pajamas, left me in bed all alone, and now you’re not even gonna fix me a bloody cup of tea? How positively rude of you, my love.”

“Harry!” You giggled and squirmed as he began to nip playfully at the skin of your neck. 

“What love?” He teased, squeezing you hard as he moved you back from the counter. “Can’t handle a bit of scruffy kisses.”

“More like toothy kisses!” You squealed as he lifted you a little, your toes brushing against the hardwood floors. “You’ve got no scruff!”

“Take tha’ back!” He laughed loudly, his arms loosening around you before he flipped you around. You were facing him now, his sleepy smile creating little wrinkles around the corners of his eyes, and his lips raspberry red. You glanced down quickly to see him in only his boxer briefs, his tattoos on full display. “Take it back right now.”

“No,” You giggled before pressing your lips together, shaking your head defiantly.

“Take. It. Back,” He said slowly, backing you towards the counter with a sinister smirk on his lips. You shook your head again and he returned the gesture with a soft chuckle. “You’re a brat.”

“I am not.” You smirked. “I’m an angel.”

“An angel?” He snorted, rolling his eyes. “You’re a little devil, that’s what you are.”

You tossed your arms around his neck, gripping his hair as he ducked his head to your neck again, nipping at your skin as your back hit the counter. “Harry,” You said in a soft warning.

“What?” He mumbled into your skin. “Can’t take it?”

“Don’t start something you can’t finish,” You whispered, rolling your lips in after you’d said it. He lifted his head, his eyes narrowed playfully.

“You think I won’t finish this?” He asked, tilting his head to the side. “You think I won’t take you right here?”

“I know you won’t,” You taunted him, biting your lower lip. “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Oh, but I would,” He chuckled, his fingers already digging into the band of his own pants on your hips. He snapped the band softly before leaning in to brush his lips against yours. “Turn round love.”

“Make me,” You whispered, quirking your brow up with a smirk of your own.

Harry laughed softly before spinning you around.

Your hands slapped down on the countertop, steadying you as your knees began to quake ever so slightly in anticipation. He quickly pulled your pants down, your panties sliding with them as he kissed over your t-shirt covered shoulder. Your lower belly clenched from the swift movement and you nearly moaned out as his hand gripped your bare bottom, squeezing softly as he sighed out. With a pained moaned, Harry’s thumbs spread you apart, baring you for his hungry eyes to feast upon. The cool air has you clenching, your eyes fluttering shut as you inhaled. 

Soon, his fingers skimmed around your hip to part your clenched thighs, slipping between your legs in a teasing manner. He brushed the tops of your right thigh with his nails in a light scratch as he pushed your hair aside with his free hand, kissing over the back of your neck. You were practically thrumming now. You didn’t know you were ready for him until he’d started teasing you so charmingly. That man could make you wet within seconds just with a look.

“Do you want it like my shirt says love?” He whispered in your ear, causing the hair on the back of your neck to stand up. 

You were confused for a moment as he pushed your feet aside with his own, spreading you a little more as his right hand pulled your hips back towards his, his left hand pushing your lower back until you were in place with your ass up and your knees knocked to the countertop. You felt so vulnerable and open, the cool morning air brushing past your soaked lips as Harry put you into the perfect position. You gasped when you finally felt him, the leaking tip of his cock brushing over your ass before he moved it between your legs. He brushed his tip over your lips, the sound shooting straight to your core as you wiggled your ass just a little for him in the form of a desperate plea.  

“Yeah, my angel wants it hot n’ hard this morning.” A devilish chuckle caused you to whimper before your teeth sunk into your lower lip. “Isn’t that right?

“Fuck, Harry.” You keened out as Harry sunk into your waiting walls, bottoming out swiftly. 

“You didn’t answer my question, angel.” He tutted, settling his hands on your hips as you felt your walls flutter around his shaft. “Tell me how you want it.”

“I want it,” You gasped out, nodding your head. “I want it just like that, Harry. Please fuck me like your shirt says, please.”

“See,” He grunted, pulling back out to the tip before pushing in again quickly, knocking your hips forward. “You’re no angel.”

“I am,” You whimpered  as he started his rhythm, desperate whines pulling from your lips as he continued his torturously slow thrusts. “M’an angel, H. I’m your angel.”

“Prove it love.” He gritted out between clenched teeth as you clenched around him. “Be good for me, my love. Be the sweet angel that I know you are.”

“I’m your angel, I- I promise,” You cried out as his hips started to pick up speed. He still pulled out, holding his tip in your entrance for a moment before slamming back in, but it was quicker and a little sloppier than before. You could tell that he was close. “Harry fuck, please.”

“Please, what?” He gasped, pressing his chest into your back as his right hand slipped up to fondle your breast, his left hand sliding down to your clit. “You want me to make you cum?”

“Oh,” You cried out as he started to roll his hips, his thrusts deeper with the new angle he was fucking you at. “Yes, please make me cum around your cock. Please make me cum, daddy.” 

“Such dirty words from such a pretty mouth.” His breath was hot against your ear for just a second, his hips knocking yours flush against the countertop with harsh thrusts. “Thought you were my angel?”

“I am!” You cried out as he lifted his chest slightly, his right hand gripping your hip tightly as he held you in place. “M’your angel.”

“Not with a dirty mouth like that,” He chuckled darkly as your torso fell to the countertop. “My beautiful girl, you want so bad to be good for me don’t you? You want to make daddy proud, don’t you?”

You nodded eagerly as he grunted, dropping his forehead to your shoulder with a low curse.

“Then cum for me,” He growled out the order, moving his fingers faster against your clit. “Cum.”

By some miracle, his command had your body slipping over the edge just moments later. Maybe it was the sound of your hips smacking together in a place that wasn’t meant for sex. Or maybe it was the grip he had on your hip, holding you in place while he fucked into you without mercy. Or maybe it was just your body wanting to prove that you were his obedient little angel. It was like you belonged to him in the sweetest and most sensual way. 

Your ograsm hit you like an earthquake, causing you to toss your head back as your knees turned to jello. He stilled inside of you, crying out as he fell into you, pressing you harder into the countertop so that you both had some sort of support as he released himself inside of you just like he did last night. Nothing felt better than going bare with him, nothing felt better than him cumming deep inside of you this way, claiming you as his own in some sort of primal way. 

“Fuck,” You cried out, your voice hoarse and your throat dry. “Just wanted a bloody cup of tea you animal.”

“This was all you,” He snorted out a laugh, kissing your shoulder repeatedly as he slowly slipped out of you, trying not to hiss as the chilly morning air hit his softening cock. “You taunted me.”

“You were being mean to me,” You pouted, turning around slowly to look up at him. “Called me a brat and everything.”

“You know you’re my angel.” He rolled his eyes playfully. “You always will be.”

“Thank you,” You hummed softly as he gripped your hips and pulled you closer for a deep kiss before peppering his lips over your cheek. “I love you.”

“Love you too,” He mumbled into your lips, smiling at the new sentiment that you now had the chance to share with each other. “But I am tired and I would like to spend the morning in bed with you.”

“I’ve got some work to do.” You whispered. “I’ll make you some tea and you can snuggle up on the couch?”

“S’not the same.” He pouted, whining softly. “I want you next to me, my love.”

“Fine, I’ll sit with you for a little bit.”

“Thank you,” He smiled happily. “Can you bring me cereal too?”

“Yes, master.” You snorted, rolling your eyes again. “Right after I finish cleaning myself up and putting my clothes back on.”

“I have an even better idea though,” He whispered lowly, brushing his nose against yours. “I take you upstairs and clean you up with my mouth and we don’t put clothes back on at all.”

“Fucking hell.” You whimpered as he dipped a hand down between your legs again, plunging his middle finger into your walls. “Harry, I’m-“

“Shh, let me clean you up,” He smirked, kissing the corner of your mouth. “Let me have a taste of us. Breakfast is the most important meal of the day after all, angel.”

[wreckofawriter]

Strawberries

Restaurant AU!

Pairing: James Potter x Reader

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: Lewd language, swearing, a small mention of sexual harassment. tooth-rotting fluff.

Summary: You hate being a waitress for rich assholes, but maybe the new line cook will make it a little better

A/n: this is for week three of my Cliche Month. Sorry for being inactive. I suck at time management and have no motivation.

    You never aspired to be a waitress. You didn’t sit down in primary school on a ridiculously colorful rug and tell your underpaid depressed teacher that you wanted to wait on prestigious assholes and rich men who thought a 20 dollar tip bought them an ass grab. You never wanted to wait on entitled white women and spoiled brats. But shit happens.

   

“Yes ma’am I understand but that was last week’s special, we don’t serve it anymore.”

    The woman rolled her eyes, “I don’t think you do understand. I said I want the sea bass, just have them make the sea bass.”

    You bit back cusses, “I am very sorry ma’am but we don’t have the ingredients in the kitchen to make a sea bass. I can recommend our halibut it’s severed with a delicious mango chutney and-”

    “Shut up about the mango crap. She said she wants a seabass, give her a seabass.” The man who sat on the opposite side of the table spoke.

    Your smile almost faltered, “Sir, we don’t have sea bass.” 

    “Then get some.” The man huffed, “There are plenty of stores around.”

    You had already taken the fork beside him and jabbed him in the eye in your mind four times, “I am terribly sorry sir, we cannot do that.”

    The look on his face could only be described as disgust, “I would like to speak to your supervisor.”

    You took in a deep breath, “Sir, he will not say any different.”

    “Now girl.” He snapped, his wife’s smirk making you want to smash her champagne glass over her head.

    “I will be right back.” You forced a smile, notebook flipping shut as you turned, the click of your heels disappearing into the chatter of diners. You almost rubbed your tired eyes only to remember the makeup which coated them and dropped your hands back to your side. You walked towards the pass of the kitchen, the smell of fish and meats becoming stronger as waiters weaved around you. 

    “Denzel.” You called, the man in question turning towards you.

    He raised his eyebrows in a silent question.

    “Can you pretend to be my supervisor?” You asked, “Some idiots still want to order the sea bass.” 

    “I’m assuming you told them that was last week's special.” He spoke as you began to lead him back to the couple.

    “Multiple times.” you sighed.

    He nodded smiles finding both of your faces as you stood in front of the table.

    “How can I help you both tonight?” He spoke, his voice dramatically shifting tones. 

    The woman went on to explain your complete incompetence just to hear your friend restate everything you had. She eventually ordered the halibut.

    Denzel left thanking them for their cooperation as you went on to take the man's order and pretending not to hear his wife calling you a bitch as you walked away. 

    You wanted to be a journalist, a warrior of justice. You wanted to expose the one percent, shattering their ivory towers with a mallet of words. 

Instead, you served them halibut and ribeyes with a smile as fake as their trophy wives tits. 

James had fallen in love with many things in his life but cooking had been the most prevalent. Most hobbies were tossed out windows, they became phases, leaving nothing but footprints in his life. But cooking had been different. Since he was five years old and would hop onto a stepping stool to peer into the cast-iron pan his mother would be sauteing in he had been hooked. By age 10 he was making things like meatballs and stroganoff. At fourteen he began to engage in more complicated dishes and by the time he hit culinary school he was easily the best in class. 

Now as he washed his hundredth dish of the night he wondered if all of that love had been for absolutely nothing. When applying for a line cook position at one of the most prestigious restaurants in London he definitely didn’t expect to be stuck as a dishwasher. 

James’ hands felt raw from scrubbing, his apron soaked with warm water and unscented soap. His feet were aching in his shoes, his jealousy for those putting together the night’s last desserts burning hot.

He ignored his anger and pushed on, washing plate after plate just to place them into an industrial-sized dishwasher which was supposed to thoroughly clean the dishes which he already spent hours scrubbing. Dessert plates and wine glasses seemed to replace every dinner plate he had washed, his work seeming endless as his coworkers said goodnight and walked out the back door. 

It took James another hour to finish. He felt like he could pass out on the kitchen floor. His glasses were a greasy steamed mess as he pushed them back up his nose for the nth time that evening. He sighed out in a mix of exhaustion and relief untying his apron and preparing to leave.

“So you’re the newbie?” 

James jumped letting out a small yelp as his heart leapt in his chest. 

You let out a snort hand coming to cover your mouth, a poor attempt of hiding your giggles.

“You scared the shit out of me.” James huffed his glare only holding for a moment as you came into focus. Your hair was up in a reckless bun, your waitress uniform slightly crumpled, heels held in your left hand. Yet your cheeks seemed to be painted, the smirk your visage held tantalizing. 

“I saw.” You snickered padding past him and dropping your shoes onto a counter with a small clink. You headed for the refrigerator, opening it and scorning over its contents. You finally settled on a container of cut strawberries, which were to be used as a garnish the next day, “You won’t tell will you?” You muttered peeling open the top and snatching a fork from the dishwasher.

James nodded, what for he wasn’t quite sure. 

You jumped onto the counter spinning to face him, “Sooo, what’s your name?”

“Uhh, James, James Potter.” He said leaning back onto the sink.

“It’s very nice to meet you, James.” You grinned, “I’m y/n y/l/n.” 

An awkward silence followed as you plopped a berry into your mouth, its flavor bursting as you side-eyed the man. 

“You’re a line cook right?” You asked, legs swinging in front of you. 

James pouted a bit, his cheeks puffing for a brief moment, “Well I’m supposed to be but so far all I’ve done is wash dishes and take out the trash.”

You hummed in understanding, swallowing fruit before speaking again, “They do that to every newbie. They want to make sure you can do the dirty work before they let you burn on the line.”

James started at you, “Really?” 

You shrugged, “That’s how it’s always worked.”

“That’s a relief I thought I was going to be stuck doing this shit.”  James relished in his found happiness feeling a bit more energized, “Hey what are you doing back here anyway, didn’t most of the waitresses leave like an hour ago?” 

“I just had to see if the new cook was as attractive as all the girls said he was.” You grinned.

James felt his cheeks flame, eyes going wide, “Are you serious?” 

“No,” You snickered, “I got hungry and didn’t feel like cooking.”

The heat of his cheeks only worsened, “That’s rude.”

You cooed, “Ooh poor baby I’m so sorry I hurt your feelings, are you going to be okay?” 

“I don’t know.” James huffed, “I don’t think I can take this harassment.” 

The laughter that echoed around him caused a smile to break onto his face. 

You suddenly realized he was as attractive as the other waitresses were saying. Even if his hair was a mess and his glasses were smudged. 

You hadn’t been lying. By his third week, James was helping with both garnish and desserts. His thirst for cooking finally being fulfilled even by the small tasks he had been given. He was still forced to do dishes at the end of service but usually, someone would help him or even trade-off with him so he could take part in prep. 

Most nights when he was left alone in the kitchen you would appear, always claiming to be hungry and that cooking was for “the weak.” so you would raid the fridge instead. You stated many times that veggies and leftover slices of cake were a fine dinner much to James’ distaste. 

“That's it.” The newbie announced, hands in the air in mock surrender as you opened a container of cauliflower. “This has to stop.”

Your heart sped in your chest, was he going to turn you in? 

“You can’t keep eating shit, I’m going to cook something for you.” James huffed, moving you aside and beginning to pull stuff from the refrigerator. 

You lifted your brows, “Are you sure?” 

James nodded, “You need to taste actual food.”

You rolled your eyes, “Couldn’t you get in, like, a lot of trouble.”

“You aren’t going to tell me, are you?” He smirked pulling out salmon and bok choy. 

“Obviously not.” You huffed taking your usual seat in the counter as James began to work, “What are you making anyway?”

“Asian inspired salmon.” He mumbled, lighting the stove and grabbing a frying pan. 

You sat in comfortable silence, watching as he cut the vegetable in half placing it into a pan and the salmon into another. James’ hands moved quickly, not hesitating with the large knives he handled and weaving through the meal as he grabbed seasonings and sauces.

By the time he was pulling the fish from the heat, the kitchen had filled with the scent of soy sauce and warmth.    

Grabbing a plate James placed on the salmon followed by the bok choy and the lemon sesame sauce. He wiped the rim with a damp rag and presented it before you with enough dramatics to earn a giggle.

“You’re ridiculous.” You spoke through a smile taking the fork from his offering hand and digging in. 

You placed the tender meat into your mouth and was greeted by an explosion of flavors that danced on your tongue like pixie dust. You hummed, a facade of deliberation on your face, “It's overcooked.” You started plainly watching as James’ face dropped. “I’m just kidding it's delicious.” You laughed as James rolled his eyes. 

“You are such a dick,” he mumbled, beginning to clean the slight mess he had made. 

“What are you doing?” You asked. James gave you a strange look, “Get a fork dumbass, you can’t make rich people food like this and then not eat it.” 

The smile that crept onto his face caused wings to erupt in your stomach. 

You had always hated teenagers. They were spoiled and greedy and gross. So when an older woman walked in with four 17-year-old boys you had fled the scene. Unfortunately, the waitress head placed you at the table anyway. The second you reached the table all four adolescence had fallen silent and you were positive it wasn’t them being polite. One of them started at your boobs the entire they ordered and you could feel their eyes on your ass as you walked away. 

You were used to the gross stares, every waitress was. It didn’t matter how expensive the food was there always seemed to be creeps asking for it. What you had not been prepared for was the boy closest to you to reach out and grab you. 

You didn’t hesitate, hand snatching his wrist before he had a chance to fully pull away. The woman the boys were with gasped. You squeezed his arm tight hoping he could feel your nails biting his skin. 

“Touch me again and I will cut your hand off. Am I clear?” You hissed, a whimper left the teen’s mouth and you released him. You placed his plate in front of him with a clatter and didn’t waste time walking away. 

Your anger didn’t diminish the rest of the night and by the time your shift was over you considered going straight home, a shower and an extra hour of sleep would serve you well.

You glanced into the kitchen, there were three chefs left, James stood in front of the sink smiling at nothing as he always seemed to do. A sigh left your lips, who needs sleep anyway?

“I’ll close up.” You called to the head waitress who shot you a skeptical look.

“You used to hate closing.” She mused, “What’s with the sudden change of heart?”

You shrugged, “Nothing in particular.”

She smirked, “So it has absolutely nothing to do with the new dishwasher?”

Pink bloomed on your cheeks, “He’s a line cook and no it doesn’t.”

“Uh-huh, sure it doesn’t.” She mocked, “If you’re gonna fuck just don’t do it in the kitchen.” 

Your face twisted in disgust and you almost dropped the napkins you held, “That is so gross.” 

She laughed, dropping the keys on the bar, “If I find any bodily fluids in my office you’re fired.” 

“You are disgusting.” You hissed, face hot and she only laughed harder.

You finished cleaning off the remainder of the tables, peeking into the kitchen occasionally as the last two cooks left for the night. 

The weight of your exertion hit hard as you entered the kitchen, legs seeming to give out as you bent down to remove your heels. 

James noticed your discomfort and let out a chuckle, “Let me.” 

You stood up a bit too quickly, head spinning for a second as you were lifted onto the counter, James crouching to slip off your shoes. You sighed leaning back onto your palms. 

“Tough day?” he asked, turning back to open the fridge. 

You nodded, “Kids are assholes.” 

James laughed, “And why's that?”

You yawned eyes watering from its force as you answered, “Well one little highschool shit grabbed my ass.”

James froze, he hand hovering midair as he processed what you had just told him, “What?”

“Oh yeah, entitled rich kids always think they can touch whatever they want. It's why I hate serving teenagers.” You complained not noticing the distress you had put James under.

“This happens regularly?” He was appalled.

    “Well not really regularly more like once a month, it’s not always teenagers though,” You explained, “Oo what’s that?” 

    James set the container of chocolate-covered strawberries in front of you. His mouth still agape “Once a month isn’t regular?”

    You huffed, “Can we stop talking about it? It happens to every waitress.”

    “Yeah, sorry,” James mumbled watching as you bit into a strawberry, lipstick smearing.

    “You going to have one of these?” You asked, holding one between your thumb and pointer finger. 

    “Sure.” James went to grab the strawberry only for you to pull it away with a grin.

    “No, no, I get to feed it to you.” Your smile was sweetly arranged. 

    Heat tingled on his neck like tv static, “Don’t be ridiculous y/n.” 

    “Oh come on James, don’t be a pussy.” You taunted waving the fruit in front of him as color painted his cheeks. 

    He glared at you in mock annoyance as his heartbeat began to run, “Fine.”

    You giggled as he took the berry into his mouth, lips barely grazing your fingertips as he pulled away. 

    James had never been more embarrassed in his life, he chewed the sweet fruit refusing to meet your eyes as you continued to laugh.

    “You’re cute ya’ know.” You giggled.

    James scoffed, a mix of bittersweet coming from your words, “Whatever.” He walked away from you hiding his flushed face. 

    You whined, “I’m not joking. You are really cute.”

    “Seriously y/n stop,” James spoke, his voice laced with disappointment and melancholy. 

    You rolled your eyes, “You’re such an idiot James.” 

    He leaned against the refrigerator as you plopped another berry into your mouth. His arms crossed as a pout you had found yourself obsessed with took his lips. 

    “A few girls actually did want your number.” You hummed watching as he seemed to perk up, reminding you of a puppy given a toy. “I was supposed to get it for them, but I didn’t really want to.”

    James scrunched his brows, “Why not?”

    “Cause I wanted your number dumbass.” You scoffed, “I wasn’t about to give it to someone else.” `

    This only confused him more, “Why would you want my number?”

    A groan lifted from your lips, “Your skull is so thick James. I want your number because you’re cute and funny and all that shit.” your voice fell to a mumble and your eyes became glued to your swinging feet.

    “Why didn’t you ask for my number?” James challenged and you felt your already warm face grow hot. 

    “I was nervous.” You muttered bitterly not liking the vulnerable position you had been put into.

    James was suddenly stepping towards you “What was that?” he grinned hand to his ear mockingly.

    “You’re enjoying this too much.” You grumbled, “Look I like you, I think you’re cute and sweet and funny now are you going to continue being a dick or give me a proper response?” 

    James continued to beam, stepping closer to you as you glared up at him with pink cheeks. 

    “Well, you’re really cute too.” James said, “And I think you were being the dick for making me try to impress you for three weeks only to say you liked me the entire time.”

    You were tempted to bury your head in your hands but considering that would mean you breaking his gaze you stopped yourself, “Oh fuck off.” you muttered heart thudding so loud you wondered if James could hear it.

    “Is that really what you want?” He questioned already knowing the answer. He leaned over you cupping your cheek.

    “Just kiss me already asshole.” You murmured.

    James tilted your head up to meet his lips. They were soft and plush, a thousand times better than you imagined them to be nights before. Your thighs parted as his own pressed against the counter between them in desperation to be closer to you. Closed kisses turned to open-mouthed ones, leaving the pleasant taste of strawberries on your tongue. 

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[retrievablememories]

moonlight | jaehyun (m)

title: moonlight pairing: jaehyun x reader genre: smut request: “Hi 😘 Nct members going to a strip club and jaehyun getting a private dance that turns into fucking scenario please? Can be smutty” word count: 3.2k warnings: sex work, oral sex (male receiving), dirty talk, riding a/n: I admittedly don’t know much about strip clubs at my big age of 23 💀 I researched what I could but took some creative liberties. I only included a handful of nct members here since that is a looot of men lol 

“Don’t look now, but your pretty boy and his group of friends are back. Diane says their car is outside,” Anya says, walking into the dressing room where the rest of the girls are. Your interest is piqued at this, though you pretend not to hear her as you finish applying your makeup. Serena isn’t so quick to let you off the hook.

“Isn’t that your boyfriend? Your little boy toy?” Serena asks, leaning closer and batting her eyelashes at you.

You pause with the mascara wand in your hand. “What boyfriend?” you scoff, though you already know exactly what she’s talking about.

“Girl, stop pretending like you’re not into him or some shit. You look at him almost as much as he stares at you!” Anya rolls her eyes and puts her hand on her hip, looking every bit of an Amazon in her 6-inch heels.

“He’s yet to request a private dance, so…I’m not sweatin’ over him. And anyway, he’s no boyfriend of mine if he ain’t paying the bills.”

“Okay, I heard that one!” Both Serena and Anya laugh at your comment. But now that you know he’s here, you are suddenly a little more motivated to dance well tonight. Not that you don’t already, but a little extra never hurt anyone.

Him and his idol friends come around to Moonlight every so often, one weekend or so a month, to get their rocks off. They’re from that kpop group NCT, and you’ve figured out the one who stares is Jaehyun. But you don’t know a ton about them other than those bare facts.

With Moonlight being one of a few ultra-diverse strip clubs in Seoul, it rose to popularity fairly quickly after its establishment. And to no one’s surprise — no one who truly knows the game, anyway — there are always a lot of kpop idols who come to watch the dancers. Their fans would undoubtedly be scandalized if they knew, but hey, that ain’t your problem. You’re here to make money, have fun, and seduce starry-eyed, lonely men. If they’re attractive, that’s only a bonus.

The House Mother, Daya, comes to stand in the doorway and calls your name. “You’re up next girl, so move that ass!”

“I’m coming,” you sigh dramatically, but there are no hard feelings at all. She’s one of the nicer club owners in this part of the city, one who treats all the girls like equals no matter what their skin color or creed is. And when you work in a club as popular and as multicultural as Moonlight, you need someone there to keep the drama to a minimum.

--

The club is as dim as ever, but the stage lights remain at a low shine, ready to come on full blast once the next dancer appears. The music thumps so heavily that the bass seems to become one with the building, making every part of the club feel alive with energy. A group of 5 men enter, weaving their way through the seats to make it to their usual spot next to the stage.

“Wow, can’t believe we’re actually in a strip club right now, haha…” Mark tries to play it cool, but he’s not very good at hiding his nervousness. This is only his first strip club outing with the other boys, after all. He taps his fingers on his legs like he’s playing the drums.

“Yeah, could’ve sworn we were on Mars instead,” Doyoung says, and the others laugh while Mark rolls his eyes.

Mark isn’t the only one whose nerves are getting to him, though. Johnny notices Jaehyun’s restless demeanor as the rest of them settle in, and he muffles a laugh, nudging the younger man. “God, I hope that one dancer you like is here tonight, you look like you’re about to come out of your clothes.”

“She’s way out of your league,” Ten snickers.

“Stop acting like I’m ugly. I could get her any time,” Jaehyun argues, glaring at the other man.

“She’s a woman of her own, not something you can take as you please, Jaehyun!” Johnny says, and both Ten and Jaehyun laugh.

“Johnny, you should keep an eye out for your own crush.” Doyoung gives him a knowing look, and he only laughs sheepishly in response.

It isn’t long before you appear on the stage, the club bursting with cheers and claps and the dual spotlights flickering to full illumination. The spotlights glisten on your skin and reflect off the light pink lingerie set you’re wearing, making you look akin to a goddess—at least in Jaehyun’s eyes. You step out from behind the velvety curtains, letting the fabric caress your body before making your way towards the pole in the middle of the stage.

Your signature song plays as you twist yourself around the pole and perform your favorite tricks, letting yourself be hyped up and carried away by the people around you calling your stage name and throwing bills at your feet. The world spins as you do, revolving around the pole with your legs touching the sky. You grin at the upside-down faces staring back at you, leaving your charm to do all the talking.

You finish your pole routine by slowly sliding down to the base of it and landing carefully in a split. Your back is facing the NCT boys, though you look over your shoulder to flash a sultry look at the audience. This one is always a crowd-pleaser—though you also use this move as an excuse to catch a glimpse of Jaehyun’s expression. You aren’t disappointed by the hunger written across his gaze.

You gracefully turn your body to them, getting on your hands and knees so they have a full view of your chest. As you crawl closer to the end of the stage, Jaheyun’s figure grows clearer underneath the club’s simultaneously dark and light atmosphere. He’s close enough to reach out and touch. 

So you do—bringing your legs out in front of you and spreading them in an appealing stretch before resting them on his shoulders, one after the other. Other men in the club seethe with envy. Jaehyun himself is stuck like a fish out of water, blushing madly but also completely into your display.

Beside him, Doyoung whoops and Johnny whistles. You lift your legs off of Jaehyun gracefully and follow the move by letting your silk robe slip off your shoulders, fully exposing the bare skin of your shoulders and back. Even this is enough to get the men riled up again, and you revel in their cheers.

Jaehyun knows enough strip club etiquette than to try to touch you, and you take advantage of this by gliding off the stage and circling him like he’s your prey. You purposely brush your silk robe over his body, letting it cocoon him in your scent. His fingers drift across it, and he wonders if it could possibly be as soft as your skin looks—or maybe you’re even softer.

Before he can truly get into it, you’ve flitted off to another nearby table of men, taking your silk with you.

“Holy fuck,” Mark looks like a deer in the headlights, and his legs are crossed uncomfortably to hide his obvious boner. 

“The baby’s gonna implode!” Ten laughs.

“Well hold it, because the night is just beginning!” Doyoung shouts.

Jaehyun’s eyes keep coming over to you even as you rotate to one of the other, smaller platforms in the club, another girl taking your spot on the main stage.

--

“You really put it on him tonight, huh?” Serena says, putting her arm around your shoulders. “He’s totally in love. Watch him come to the next show with an engagement ring.” You chuckle at that idea. You find it strangely endearing. You wouldn’t marry him without knowing him, of course, but the idea of having him that tightly wrapped around your finger makes you grin.

You don’t have long to think about it before Daya is coming to break up your kiking fest.

“You’ve got a request for a private dance from one Jaehyun. Sound familiar?” Daya announces. Serena nudges you, and you nod. Daya raises her eyebrows. “You up for it?”

The corners of your lips curl up in a smile. “Give me 5 to freshen up.”

--

Moonlight holds a dozen or so rooms within its second story, all solely reserved for private dances. You climb the stairs slowly in your heels, partly because you don’t want to trip and partly because you’re slightly nervous about what to expect. There’s an abundance of security guards stationed on this level—and each room has an emergency button—so you’re not worried about safety, per se. Whoever this Jaehyun guy really is, you hope he can meet a few of your expectations, at least. Maybe it’s a little embarrassing, but you’ve built him up in your mind more than you’ve allowed yourself with other club-goers.

The room number is 202. You stand in front of the door for a few moments to take several deep breaths. Then you relax your body, talking yourself back into your Performance mode, and open the door.

“Who’s this handsome man?” Jaehyun looks up to see you standing in the doorway, still wearing your outfit from the stage. He sits up on the plush black couch that stands out from the blazing purple hue of the rest of the room. A row of mirrors frames the wall behind the couch, reflecting your own figure back to you. He looks a bit disheveled, with his shirt unbuttoned and his slacks crooked, but it’s a good look for him.

He leans forward to drink in your body, his eyes drifting up from the garters resting against your thighs to the lacy bra covering your breasts, and you smile underneath his gaze. “Jaehyun. And you’re ______...right?”

“Of course. You should know me by now, special boy,” you tease, sauntering over to him to sit on the couch beside him, instead of his lap like he expected. Still, you hover incredibly close to him, your hand sliding against his lapels and stroking the fabric of his button-up right where it unfolds against his skin. “After all, you’ve stared enough.”

“It’s hard not to.” Jaehyun rakes his eyes across your body as if he’s dying to touch it. You smirk and stand up again, sliding off your silk robe and throwing it to him as you wind your body to the music coming from the room’s speakers.

“What would your girlfriend say?” you tease.

His eyes widen at that. “I don’t have a girlfriend.”

“Don’t act so scandalized about it...men with girlfriends and wives come here all the time. It’s shitty...but it’s life.” You say this while twisting your hips in his face, and he initially seems a little too distracted to realize you’ve said anything. Then it registers.

“That’s....do you like this j-job, at least?” Jaehyun’s breath hitches at the end of his sentence when you drape yourself across his body, your head resting back on his shoulder and your ass pressing against the undeniable bulge in his pants. Still, he doesn’t touch you, which you are grateful for—many other men haven’t been so tactful during private dances—so you continue servicing him without a care in the world.

“It’s fun, and I get to meet handsome men like you.” Your fingers ghost across his jawline, drifting only inches away but not making contact. “There’s a lot to like about it.”

You move away and he thinks you mean to get up, but you only turn to face him. “You can touch me now, if you’d like. I think you’ve been a good boy…”

You grind in Jaehyun’s lap and are delighted when he responds in kind, pushing his hips up to meet yours. Your faces are inches apart. You are practically breathing in sync, smiling like there’s a secret only the two of you know.

You make the first move by kissing him, and he slants his mouth against yours as if your lips have always belonged together.

You grasp Jaehyun’s hand and lead it to your hip, and he takes the cue to rest both of his hands on your waist, simply following your directions.

He does take the lead with the kiss, though, biting your lip as you gently pull away, and tugging you back in. He tastes like alcohol, and as cliché as it is, it makes you feel a bit drunk—but that might also be due to his demeanor itself.

“How long have you wanted this?” you ask, sliding your hand into his black shirt and drawing your nails across his skin—not painfully hard, but enough to make him throb under you.

“Maybe too long,” he says. “You’re very beautiful.”

You smile. “Aren’t we a perfect match, then?” Your hand slides lower, to his abdomen and the muscles you can feel even under his dress shirt, and then to his belt. “Would you like to continue?” you ask. 

“Yes.”

You unbuckle his belt, sliding the leather through his belt loops and dropping it off to the side somewhere. You slide yourself off his lap to kneel in front of him as you caress his lower half, rubbing your hands up his thighs and across his bulge, underneath his clothing to feel his abs, and then back again. 

Unzipping his dress pants is equally fun. You watch him sweat and feel him shudder as you drag the zipper down with your teeth. You pull his underwear down after, slowly drawing the material over his skin on purpose. His cock springs out, hard and thick and flushed with need, and you lean forward to drag your mouth over it, base to tip.

Jaehyun is heavy and warm against your lips and he smells good, like male musk, like pheromones and desire. You hold the base as you slap his dick on your tongue and he rolls his head back, making a sound between a groan and a laugh as if he can’t believe this is happening.

He doesn’t want to rush or hurt you, so he lets you do the work of sliding him into your mouth as far as you can take, drooling over his dick and sucking him so messily that it makes his knees quiver. The groans and grunts you pull out of him are lovely to hear—you feel good to know that you can bring him this much pleasure so easily. His precum drips into your mouth, salty on your tastebuds.

Jaehyun is pliable in your hands as you stroke his shaft, focusing your tongue on his leaking tip. You feel his thumb brushing the back of your neck, his hand settling on your nape as he watches you suck his dick. He curses under his breath when you scrape your teeth against him very gently, giving just enough pressure to make it feel good.

Soon, you feel Jaehyun nearing in your mouth, his cock throbbing harder and his thighs trembling around you.

“I-I want to fuck you,” Jaehyun says abruptly. You pull back to look at him through your eyelashes. You leave a trail of spit lingering between your lips and his dick, and he looks like he might come right then.

“Such a greedy boy.” You lift yourself to be level with his eyes, tilting his chin with your fingertips. “What’s the magic word?”

“Please?” He looks like he isn’t totally certain that’s the right answer, and it makes you laugh. In response to his request, you turn to face the door, bending over and making a show of unclipping your garters and sliding your thong down before straightening to remove them completely. Jaehyun moans at that.

You turn back to see that he’s already taken care of the condom. He groans beautifully for you again when you crawl back onto his lap and slide him inside of you, clenching around his hard length.

You start with a slow and winding rhythm at first, not entirely hellbent on teasing him but not willing to let him blow his load too soon, either. His hands are all over your body at this point, gripping your ass and your breasts and whatever else he can get his hands on. He pulls your bra down and tugs your nipples into his mouth like a man starved. 

You laugh at his eagerness, riding him harder.

Jaehyun plants his feet straight on the ground and starts thrusting up into you and you cry out at the added sensation, his tip hitting against your g spot and making you sweat and tremble.

“Fuck, you’re good,” you sigh, digging your nails into his shoulder as you fuck each other at the perfect pace.

“This is the best pussy I’ve ever had,” he says in between sucking your nipples. “I’ve gotta taste it.”

“N-next time.” Your body squeezes around him again as he brings one of his hands to the front to rub your clit. You’re glad the music is loud, otherwise there’d be no hiding your noises or the sound of your skin slapping together.

You feel wild and free in a way you haven’t in a long time, and you let yourself scrape your nails across his skin and bite at his neck as you fuck yourself harder on his dick.

You and Jaehyun kiss and thrust against each other like you’ll never get to do it again, with all the delicious hurriedness that a quick and tension-filled type of fuck can offer.

“I’m c-close.” Jaehyun groans this into your hair as you’ve gone back to biting his neck again. He grips your ass and holds you tighter against him, if at all possible, and pushes himself into your spot with renewed energy. His hand still works your clit, just shy of being firm enough to hurt—but practiced enough to provide pleasure.

“Not without me,” you say, licking the shell of his ear. “What would your friends say?”

“They wouldn’t know, because right now, you’re mine alone.” He slaps your ass and that’s enough to get you spilling onto him, crying his name right into his eardrum as you shudder and tighten around him.

Jaehyun comes soon after, thrusting a few more times and settling himself deep inside you as he fills the condom. He leans his head against the couch and you watch as he vocalizes his pleasure, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he arches into you.

You feel sated and a bit sleepy now, but your shift isn’t over yet and there are still more shows to be done. You lay a kiss on Jaehyun’s throat before gingerly untangling yourself from him and redressing, making sure everything is in place.

Jaehyun throws away the condom and does the same for himself, though there won’t be any hiding the bruises you’ve left on his neck. He looks in the mirrors behind him and blushes at the sight of them, brushing his fingers over them.

“Sorry honey. Hope your friends don’t tease you too much over it.” You smile sympathetically, though you aren’t terribly sorry. You move to open the door but Jaehyun calls out wait, and you pause.

He slides a piece of paper with his number on it into your hand and gives you a smirk. “Don’t forget our promise. ‘Next time,’ remember?”

You tuck the paper into your bra and make a note to put it somewhere safer once you get to the dressing room. “Of course, baby.” With that, you are gone, and Jaehyun is left with the memories—and the marks—to remind him of you until you meet again.

[largemouthbassnation]

Catching bass in cold dirty water. Tips & tricks by Central Coast Bass. Central coast bass tips & tricks, video shorts designed to help you catch more bass. Cold dirty water is a bass fishermen worst conditions, but there is a way to ... source