#happy fence Friday
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Happy Fence Friday Junco near Wadsworth Theatre 3207 by Pekabo Via Flickr: Members of a flock may spread out widely, keeping in contact by constantly calling tsick or tchet. Also a soft buzzy trill in flight. audubon
#junco in the trunko#junco unchained#fence friday#fence#fency monkey#Bird watching#Birdwatching Los Angeles#birds near Wadsworth Theatre#los angeles#southern california birds#dark eyed junco#junco#happy fence Friday#pekabo90401#lightroom#SX 50#SX-60#canon#Camaraderie#friendship#canon SX 60#tsick#tchet#spaceship noises#gluten free#vogel#Junco hyemalis#Junco ojo oscuro#Junco ardoisé#sparrow
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Me: Happy Friday! Happy Birthday! Another one of your managers has tried to blame their incompetence on me and this time I expect you to set an example of him 🥰
The owners, nervously reaching for the sweets I bought them: ... A-again? Today??
Me: Again, today, just now in fact. Enjoy your strategy meeting! I'll send you my email report in a minute! 🥰
#one of these days I'm going to absolutely fucking lose it#tell me again how I placed a $300 order while on vacation#god I hate these lying misogynitic racist fucking asshole managers#you are the last one my guy... the sole remaining blight upon my happiness#two have fallen and you are all that remains... the last antagonist... the big bad... the tenure asshole#corporate shenanigans#it's like they can sense when I'm ready for the next lil duel#they line up and I knock em down#it's like corporate fencing at this point#drafts#this was from Friday but I still v much am feeling this mood#cause ain't no way you're gonna blame me 4 different times in 4 different ways and STILL look me in the eye ctfu
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Happy Fence Friday (HFF) - Northern Flicker Style by Chantal Jacques Via Flickr: or close enough to a fence I hope :)
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Cmon someone put me out of my misery please and thank you
#this is aboit life at large#in particular about my period#but mostly about the fact that my bday is on friday and i am 1. lowkey angry with all my friends for some thing or another so thinking#happy thoughts is really frustrating#and 2. i was on the fence ab organizing some kind of party by got convinced to and now suddenly everyone is busy??? on my bday specifically#also im just really down in the dumps soooo much ugh i hate this#nobody loves me etc etc etc etc whats new#hello depressing spiral of doom i didnt miss you#also other miscellaneous irl stuff about uni but who cares#not me apparently#ugh
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but who’s the better husband: jay or dick?
18+ content below
apples, oranges…it’s all about preference babey
dick is a traditionally romantic kind of husband. buys you fresh flowers every week, insists on carrying all the groceries inside himself (all in one trip btw), opens doors for you and pouts when you beat him to it, lays you down and eats you out proper when he gets home from work. he loves to spoil you when you least expect it, taking you out on surprise dates or paying for you to get your nails done after a long day. he likes to constantly remind you and anyone that’ll listen that he’s your husband and that you’re his wife. really wouldn’t shut up about it after you’d first gotten married. i think deep down he’s a white picket fence kind of guy and he’d save up the whole time you’re engaged (and honestly for a while before that) to buy a nice little house for the two of you. you painted the walls together and he moved the furniture and decor around wherever you wanted. you start up your own little traditions as time goes on. on the last friday of every month you and dick experiment with new recipes, usually baking per his request. more than half the time it ends up inedible and quite literally falling apart, but you value the flour fights and post-taste testing messy kisses more than the leftovers or lack thereof. you like to handout candy on halloween to the neighborhood kids together and tidy up the house together when it’s needed.
jason’s main priority as a husband is making sure that you’re taken care of. he’d give you everything he possibly could and would find a way to compensate for what he couldn’t. he’ll get you the prettiest ring you’ve ever seen and he has a thing about holding your hand and watching it shine in the light. jason really is mr. domesticity and he would straight up build you a house. it would be a big plot of land, pretty isolated with trees all around. it’s probably like 30-45 minutes outside of gotham and well out of the typical range of danger. he’s more than happy to help you fill it with babies of your own and anything you could have dreamed of having when you were little. forever night owls, you’re prone to midnight parties with just the two of you and moonlight walks around the property. not to mention, he absolutely loves having a whole house worth of space to fuck you wherever and whenever he wants—it’s opened you up to a lot of new experiences. i also honestly think he would give up being red hood to settle down with you, at least for the most part. he’ll still suit up to help when there’s bad emergencies in gotham or his brothers need his help but he’s like 80/20 retired.
#for me personally#jason is probably my ultimate cup of tea#dick grayson thoughts™#jason todd thoughts™#dick grayson is obsessed w his gf#jason todd loves his gf#jason todd x reader#dick grayson x reader
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Next Door Neighbors
Summary: You just wanted peace and quiet and Harry just wanted to jam out in his garage for his birthday. So you decide to confront your new neighbor but things don't go as you planned.
A/N: Here it is! Sorry I didn't get it out earlier but it's here now! Enjoy this little 🎈 Harry Styles Happy Birthday Treat 🎈xoxo
Word Count: 7.8k
Warning: 18+ only, smut
It was the perfect house with the perfect backyard in the perfect neighborhood. You’d hit the jackpot. Your first big girl purchase. A house with a lovely garden, two bedrooms, a lovely little kitchen with the perfect rays of light that shone in through the big windows all morning. And the neighborhood was nice and quiet where you could enjoy your weekends in peace reading to your heart’s content.
It was a huge upgrade from the apartment life you endured for years while you saved up for just this thing. And you’d finally found it. Things seemed to be coming together for you in life finally.
On Friday after you got off work, Zoya called, asking if you wanted to go out with the girls but you politely declined, “I’m just gonna stay in I think. I hope you don’t mind. Maybe next weekend, Zo.”
You had a bottle of wine tucked under your arm as you held your cell phone to your ear on your way to the checkout lane at the little neighborhood market a few blocks from your house. Your new house. The one with your name on the mortgage.
Your plan was to drink a little wine in your cute new backyard and read a book, just taking in the peace of your new place.
You turned on the twinkle lights over your back porch (your dad had helped you put them up into the trees) and sat down in your outdoor lounge chair with a glass of wine and the book you’d been looking forward to reading. The sun had just gone down and you could hear crickets. A perfect Friday night, in your opinion.
That is until you were twenty pages into your book and suddenly the loud racket of what sounded like obnoxiously loud live music playing from next door had you closing your book and standing up to investigate.
The closer you got the more you could hear the unmistakable sound of a live band playing, the pop of a snare drum, the trill of a guitar... You looked over the wood fence into the driveway of your neighbor’s home and couldn’t see much but you saw lights on inside of the garage and the loud ruckus of a homemade instrumental band.
You didn’t want to be one of those neighbors. One of those awful people who complained about everything their neighbors did. But this was ridiculous. It seemed they had no regard for any of the people that lived around them.
Walking back to what was supposed to be your little oasis you sat down and grumped to yourself about how rude some people could be. You’d give them one hour until you went over there and told them in person to lower the noise.
You’d only been living in your little house for a few days and this was your first Friday night. You had really been looking forward to a peaceful night at home. Not even your second glass of wine could calm you down.
You didn’t know why you were so mad about it. In your apartment, you were bombarded with noise from all the neighbors who shared a wall with you and the loud heard of elephants that lived above you.
But this? It was meant to be your sanctuary. Your place of solitude.
But you’d had it. When an hour had passed and you paced around your backyard getting up the nerve to walk over there you huffed and psyched yourself up as you made your way into the front yard of your neighbor’s house and could see three men inside the wide open garage. A drummer pounding away, and two men standing – one with a guitar and another with a bass.
You stepped into the driveway and clutched your cardigan closer to your chest as you appeared at the threshold of the garage and the music abruptly stopped when the tall one with dark curls laid his eyes on you.
“Hi. You’re the new neighbor,” he raised his hand from the neck of the guitar he had slung over his shoulder and smiled.
You instantly no longer were raging with anger when you heard his voice and realized this was the man you’d seen briefly the morning before as he got into his car. You imagined he was attractive but not this attractive. Tattoos along one arm, thick curls, plush pink lips, dimples…
“Uh… yeah. I just moved in next door a few days ago.” You looked behind yourself and back toward the men before continuing, “I was hoping you guys could–“
Your voice was cut off by the clash of a symbol then the hit of a snare before the drummer tapped his sticks together, “We’re in the middle of something here in case you didn’t see.”
“Hey… chill. Don’t be rude man,” the curly-headed man with the guitar shot a look at the drummer before looking back at you, “What were you saying? Sorry.”
You shifted on your feet, “I was wondering if you guys could keep it down. It’s so loud and it’s all I can hear while I’m trying to read.”
The guy with the bass guitar spoke, “Oh come on, lady. We hardly ever get to do this.”
Your neighbor began removing his guitar, lifting the strap over his head as he looked at the other two, “Let’s call it a night guys. That’s enough.”
The other two began to grumble as they packed away their things and your neighbor stepped out of the garage in front of you with his hand held out to you, “I’m Harry.”
You smiled and placed your palm against his, “Y/n.”
The drummer came up beside Harry, “Today’s his birthday you know. The only thing he wanted today was to jam out for a bit.”
Your eyes widened as you looked at Harry, “Oh. I didn’t know. I’m sorry… you–“
“Don’t worry about it. We had a good hour. I’m beat anyway. Long week at work.”
The bassist gave Harry a side hug, “I’m gonna head home. See you later, okay? Happy birthday, dude.”
“Oh. I should leave. I’m really sorry again,” you waved as you began to back away.
But Harry stepped in toward you, “Stick around for a minute okay?”
The drummer followed suit, bidding Harry a happy birthday and then getting into his car to drive away as you stood awkwardly at the edge of the garage until it was just you and Harry.
“I’m sorry. I feel really bad that they left. And it’s your birthday too? I’ll… do you want a bottle of wine or something? Let me grab you a bottle as a gift and an apology…”
Harry grinned at you and shook his head, “Mind if I come with you? I’d love to see the inside of the house. Never got the chance to see it before. That can be your birthday gift to me.”
You noted the smirk on his face, his confident posture, and then you realized he had crystalline green eyes. Something in the way he was looking at you gave you those ridiculous butterflies in your tummy.
“Yeah. Of course, Harry.” You turned and he followed behind you as you led him into your backyard, closing the gate behind yourself.
“This is the backyard. I’m gonna put in some flowers over there,” you pointed, “And maybe do something with the porch at some point.”
Harry looked around the backyard briefly before he put his gaze back on you as you opened up your door to let him inside. You were sure you were insane to be letting your neighbor, whom you did not know, into our house with you alone at night, but you only live once, isn’t that what they say?
“Kitchen,” you gestured your hand and then moved through into the living room where Harry trailed behind you and looked around.
“It’s nice. I like how big the windows are. Always was jealous of how big they are compared to mine.”
You looked up at him and smiled, “It’s one of the reasons I bought the place. The window in the kitchen overlooking the backyard kind of sealed the deal for me. Lots of great light comes in for most of the day.”
“I bet it does,” he kept his eyes on you and your tummy was still fluttering about.
“Over here is the bedroom,” you flipped on the switch, “It’s got its own full bathroom. Tiny but I like it.” You turned to move down the hall and flipped on the switch to the hallway bathroom, “Another bathroom, here,” and then moved to the final door, pushing it open to an empty room, “And at some point, I’ll furnish this. It’ll be like an office, guest room sort of thing.”
You turned off the light and looked back at Harry who was standing right behind you.
“Thank you, for showing me around.”
You felt your face warm up as you looked at him. You liked how he said your name. Liked how his lips moved around his words when he spoke.
“Of course. Um… do you want any wine? I was a glass and a half into a bottle if you want to finish it with me?”
That was an easy yes from Harry. You brought your glass in from outside and pulled out a clean one for your neighbor before pouring a bit of the burgundy liquid inside for him.
“Happy birthday, Harry,” you held your glass out to him and he tapped the edge of his glass to yours, “Sorry that I ruined it, though. I kind of feel awful.”
Harry shook his head, “Don’t be sorry. Like I said, it was a long week at work and we had a good hour anyway. Plus this is nice. Getting to know my neighbor,” he took a sip of his wine.
“How old are you today?” You took a sip of your wine as you watched him.
“30,” he sighed, “Grown adult officially.” He smiled.
You laughed at his remark and nodded, “Yes, 30 marks the official entry into adulthood. That’s my belief as well.”
You really liked Harry. He was easy to talk to and you decided he made you feel very comfortable.
“So, you’re a musician?” You raised your brows.
He shook his head and chuckled, “Well, I like to sing and play instruments. I’m not really great or anything. Just a hobby. Used to be in a band in college but then I realized I had to get a real job and figure out how to pay my bills and get along in life.”
You leaned your bottom into your kitchen counter and smiled at him, “Oh yeah. I know all about that. Would be nice if we could make good money just doing our hobbies so we didn’t have to get real jobs,” you laughed, “What do you do for work?”
“I’m an electrical contractor. Have a small business with three employees. It’s hard work but it pays well. Most of the time.”
You smiled. He continued to get more attractive the more he talked and the more you learned. It didn’t hurt that you could tell he was in incredibly great shape as well. He was tall, his shoulders were broad and his shirt stretched tightly over the lats at his back and hung loosely where his waist was, indicating a nice healthy build and upper body strength. His arms were lean muscle and even his thighs filled out the tops of his jeans so you understood it wasn’t just his upper body that was well-muscled.
You heard Harry chuckle as you darted your eyes back up to his. You’d been caught checking him out. You hadn’t meant to let your eyes scrape down his frame but… well. Here you were.
“And what do you do, Y/n?”
Harry kept his sight on you as he sipped from his glass. His sultry gaze was doing things to your hormones and making your heart pump a little harder behind your ribcage.
“I’m the general manager at SpendCo,” you laughed and shrugged, “Not a fancy job but I like it. Good benefits. Was able to save up for this place,” you gestured your hand around the kitchen.
“My job’s not fancy either,” Harry laughed, “But yeah. It’s steady work. A good paycheck.”
You nodded. You could relate in some ways. You’d gone to school for business but wound up working your way up from the bottom at SpendCo. When you started you were making just over minimum wage as a cashier, but now you worked in the office, Monday through Friday (no more weekends for you) and had shift managers and employees working under you. It felt good to be the boss.
“Wanna sit in the living room? Couch is brand new. In fact, I’ve hardly even had the chance to sit in it myself.”
“Yeah. Let’s break that couch in, Y/n,” Harry grinned as he nudged you with his shoulder.
Oh?
You laughed at his comment but decided to not take it the way you imagined he meant. Of course, he obviously meant just sitting on it and breaking it in that way. Certainly, there were no innuendos behind his words.
You didn’t have a proper coffee table yet so you pulled an empty bin with a lid to the front of the couch, “We’ll use this to put our glasses on. Still not done decorating or buying things I need, as you can tell.”
Harry sat his glass down on the plastic lid of the bin and pointed at your stereo setup next to the TV, “Can I put on some music?”
“Yeah, sure,” you smiled as you took another sip of your wine and watched your handsome neighbor get up and turn on your stereo and speakers. He pulled his phone from his back pocket and searched for the Bluetooth to connect and a song began to play over your speakers.
“Like Chris Isaak?” Harry asked as he sat down on the couch, right next to you, his knee knocking into yours.
“Yeah… I think. I’ve heard this song before anyway,” you smiled as you looked down at your thighs.
Harry leaned his back into the cushion and you felt him shifting next to you, his arm propped up on the back of the seat behind you.
“So where did you live before you moved in here?”
You turned your head to look at him before placing your eyes safely on the plastic bin, “In an apartment over in Roger’s Park. Nice little neighborhood. But I hated living in an apartment. Lugging groceries up three flights of stairs every time I went shopping. I mean I got used to it but still…” you laughed.
“Oh yeah. I know what you mean. I used to live in an apartment too. Actually also in Roger’s Park… but that was like five years ago.”
You peeked at him with your brows raised, “Yeah? You lived in Roger’s Park too? What area?”
“Off Grand near the big bus terminal.”
“Wait. For real? At Sheraton Oaks?”
Harry furrowed his brows and squinted, “Yes. Shit. Is that where you lived?”
“It is. 3rd floor. Apartment 10.”
Harry turned his body toward you, his thigh flush against yours, “No fucking way, Y/n. I lived in apartment 10,” he pointed his thumb at himself with a wide surprised grin on his face.
You shook your head and looked at him in disbelief, “That’s wild. How funny that two people who used to live in the same apartment at different times became next-door neighbors. What are the chances?”
Harry laughed, “Seems quite unlikely in such a big city.”
You and Harry sat facing one another in amazement as a new song came on.
“You okay?” Harry’s pupils ran over your features and you saw him looking at your lips as he poked his tongue out to wet his own.
“Yeah. Why?”
Harry softly smiled as he lifted his hand to your face and you felt the pad of his thumb press into your cheek, “You’re biting the inside of your cheeks. Just wanted to make sure you weren’t nervous or something.”
You puffed out a laugh and shook your head, “No. I’m not nervous. Sometimes I chew on the inside of my cheeks. Bad habit.”
Harry nodded shallowly with his eyes on you but he didn’t respond. Instead, he reached for his glass and took a sip of wine.
“So… um…” you glanced at him and shot your eyes to his hand that held the stem of the glass. His hands were nice and big and you noticed he had his nails painted, alternating blue and yellow.
“So, um… What? What were you gonna say?”
You gulped and forced yourself to look into his eyes. He was so handsome and you were beginning to get hot all over. He was too close (not that that was a bad thing), his thigh was solid against yours, and his eyes were drawing something out of you. He was alluring.
“I don’t…” you shook your head, “Forgot what I was gonna say.”
Harry pulled his lips into his mouth, a muted grin on his face as you watched dimples carve into his cheeks. Like he knew what you were thinking.
“I like this sweater,” he gestured toward your cardigan and you looked down at it. It was knitted with a cat playing with a ball of yarn on the left side.
“My aunt bought it for me for Christmas last year,” you smiled and as you brought your eyes up you noticed he was wearing a necklace but you couldn’t see the whole thing as it was tucked under his t-shirt.
He pulled at a button on your cardigan and cocked his head as he looked at you, “Are you sure you’re okay, Y/n? Do you want me to leave?”
Your eyes widened, “Oh no. This is nice. I… I’m okay. Honestly.”
“Okay. You just seem a little frazzled. Want to make sure I’m not doing anything that’s making you uncomfortable.”
You shook your head, “No. You’re great. You haven’t done anything to make me uncomfortable.” You bit your bottom lip into your mouth and tried to give off an air of calm and confidence like Harry was but he was something else. He was so incredibly attractive and the eye contact was making you slowly melt. You couldn’t help but let your mind wander to what it would be like to kiss him.
He grinned, one side of his mouth pulling upward, “I see.”
You watched as he took a deep breath and placed his wine glass back down before looking back into your eyes, “So, um… can I ask you a personal question?”
You nodded, “Yeah. Sure.”
“Do you have a boyfriend or…?”
Your brows raised upward, “Oh. Uh, no. No boyfriend,” you put your hands into your lap and fiddled with your fingers, “And, uh… you? Significant other?”
A breathy laugh fell from his chest as he shook his head, “Nope.” He popped the p as he responded.
You nodded and looked down at the hand that he’d placed over his thigh. His pinky was pressed into your leg. You were sure he was giving you some kind of signal. All the signs were there. His body language, eye contact, asking you about a boyfriend, and the nearness of him… He was so close you could smell the soap he used.
“Mmm…” you racked your brain to think of anything to say, “How long have you lived here?”
He licked his lips again, “Five years. Moved out of Sheraton Oaks and then bought the house next door.”
You smiled, “So that means I moved in right after you moved out.”
Harry slowly moved his hand further toward your leg and you felt his pinky and ring finger press into your leggings before subtly bending his pinky finger out to rub the fabric under his digit, “Sounds like we have a lot in common.”
“Yeah. Guess so,” you gave him a weak smile and looked down at his hand.
“Am I overstepping?”
You shook your head and looked up at him.
“No? What about if I kissed you? Is that too much?”
Your breath caught in your lungs as you kept your eyes pinned to his and shook your head again.
“No, it’s not too much? Or no you don’t want me to kiss you?”
You swallowed and your heart bounced around in your chest so wildly you could almost hear it, “No, it’s not too much.”
The smile on Harry’s face was soft as he looked from your eyes to your mouth, “It’s okay then? You don’t mind the birthday boy stealing a kiss from his cute neighbor?”
That pulled a laugh from you just as he hoped it would, “I’d like that I think.”
Harry slid his free hand up to the side of your neck, his thumb at the base of your jaw close to your ear, “Last chance to say no.”
You laughed again and placed your palm over the top of his hand that had fully moved over your thigh, “Kiss me.”
The slow movement of his face toward yours, the nudge of his nose to your skin, hot puffs of breath spreading over your cheek, soft lips brushing against the edge of your mouth, before he finally pressed his smooth pink lips against yours was alchemic. Something about him, about the way he handled himself and spoke to you and devoured you with his eyes… But with his mouth against yours, his thumb softly rubbing at your jaw, and his hand moving to fit his fingers between yours as he kept it pressed over your thigh you felt electrified.
And he tasted like mint and smelled like soap and his lips were smooth and moist against yours. Your Friday night had already turned out far better than you imagined it would.
Yeah. Making out on your new couch in your new house with your new neighbor was way better.
You slid the palm of your free hand up his shoulder and to the nape of his neck as his own grip on the side of your neck and jaw tightened the slightest.
But your mind was on his mouth. The heat coming from his touch. The way his tongue slid through your lips to beckon them open…
Harry pulled at your hand and urged you toward his lap. Parting your legs you sat down over the spread of his thighs, settling yourself as close to him as possible.
He slid his hands up your thighs and you felt ravenous. It was as if sitting in his lap made it so much more real. He was moving things along and you were keeping pace.
You pressed your tongue against his and softly rocked your hips down. As your pelvis tilted against Harry, he moaned into your mouth and it was the hottest thing you’d ever heard.
“Fuck. You still good?” He parted from the kiss, keeping his nose bumped against yours.
You breathed out a yes as you nodded and when you lifted your face your lips brushed against his and it started all over again. Lips smothered over lips and tongues wetly dragging against tongues.
Harry’s hands inched up to your hips and you pressed your fingers into the back of his neck, feeling his pulse, steady and strong under your skin.
He lapped over your bottom lip before sucking it into his mouth and then dropped his cushiony lips down to your jaw, peppering damp kisses under the space of your chin and over your neck.
You loved having your neck kissed. Not just loved it… you craved it. The feel of a man’s breath and mouth and tongue and nose against your pulse point and the delicate skin that wrapped over blood pumping through your arteries had your skin tingling.
Another rock of your hips down and you felt the obvious swell of something growing under his jeans. He hissed and you backed away from his mouth, not knowing if his sharp inhale was from pain or if he liked the slide of the fabric over your crotch pressing against him.
When you looked at his eyes he was a different man. His pupils had widened and his plush pink lips were wet and parted, nostrils taking in air heavily as you felt his fingers dig into your hips.
“Did I hurt you?” You brought one of your hands toward his jaw feeling the light scruff along the bone under your knuckles.
He shook his head, “No. Not at all. But I do need to reposition.”
You looked down between your bodies and moved back on his thighs to give him space but before your brain could connect to your motions you were reaching down for his button to unpluck from the thick jean fabric. He gently lifted his hips as you unzipped his pants and then you looked at him as you pushed the bottom hem of his shirt upward over the band of his underwear.
“You wanna help?” He spoke breathily as you nodded and pulled the elastic away from his skin with one hand and used the other to reach under the fabric. It was sparse hair and skin and then and then denser hair and warmth until you felt him tucked awkwardly to the side against his pelvis.
The small coo that fell from your mouth was involuntary as you wrapped your hand around him. Hot and thick in your hand. He inhaled sharply again when he felt your palm on his cock as you helped guide him upright.
Your breath was unsteady and shallow as you kept your eyes on Harry’s, “God, Harry.”
“What?” His teasing smirk gave away that he knew what. He knew his cock was big and watching your reaction to that was pleasing.
You gulped and peeked down at it, your hand still holding the fabric away from his hips. A swollen, smooth ruddy colored tip that matched the pink of his lips. The length of which pushed out from the top of the band and sat perfectly in between two fern tattoos at his hips along the bare part of his skin.
“It’s…” you looked back up at him, “It’s nice.”
Harry breathed out a laugh, “Nice? Why thank you.” He grinned.
But then you felt his fingers slide under your t-shirt, pushing the fabric up slowly until his skin was pressed into your sides. It felt like he was urging you to remove your shirt so you did. Pulling your cardigan off first you let it fall to the floor at Harry’s feet before you peeled your t-shirt off.
Harry was surprised to see you weren’t wearing a bra. It had been easy enough to hide under the knitted sweater you figured, so you never put a bra on when you went to confront him earlier. And of course, you weren’t wearing one. It was meant to be a quiet Friday night in. There had been no need.
He pushed his hands up your sides until his fingers were wrapped around your ribs with his thumbs pressing into the soft plump underside of your tits.
You watched him take you in. Your nipples were straining and goosebumps littered your flesh as he ghosted his thumbs along the sensitive tissue.
It felt like so much. You had never done anything remotely sexual with someone you didn’t know. But Harry was hot and you were turned on. So much so that you could feel the dampness in your panties.
You reached back to his chest, pulling at his shirt. You wanted to see more. Wanted to know what he looked like underneath it all. You knew he was fit. And you were positive there were more tattoos hidden away under the material of his shirt.
With his eyes on yours, he moved his hands away from your breasts and pulled his shirt off, taking the back and bringing it over his head at the front. You got a glimpse of the necklace he wore. A white gold cross that slapped against his chest when it caught on the fabric of his shirt as he removed it.
You had been right. His body was defined and strong. Bulky muscular pecs and toned abs. Inked skin from his clavicle to the butterfly under his pectorals and down to the ferns, where his cock poked out of the top of his underwear.
Pressing your palms over his pecs you smoothed your hands down over his nipples and to the butterfly tattoo underneath.
Harry put his hands on your hips again while you admired his torso and you felt his fingers dip under the waistband of your dark-colored tights. Another signal. A question seeking approval for more.
Drawing your eyes up to his you put your hands over his fingers and pushed the material down with him.
Of course, sitting in his lap hindered too much movement but he understood your hint as he pushed you up by your hips and you found yourself being moved off of his lap to your back on the couch.
“Still good, Y/n?” He looked at you with those dark pupils, an air of respectful authority. He made your skin boil.
You nodded, “I’m good.”
Harry began to pull at the stretchy fabric, bringing it down your hips and over your thighs til your knees were free and then he lifted your legs so he could get the leggings off your feet.
When your pants were on the floor, he still had your legs held upward, one hand at the back of your ankles and you peered down at him indulging in the sight of your skin at the back of your thighs and down to your bottom covered in your panties.
You saw a grin on his face as he brought your legs down before he stood up and pulled his jeans off his legs.
His body was so strong and masculine. He could easily dominate you, the thought briefly crossed your mind as you watched the muscles in his arms flex, his abs clench, and the sinew on his powerful-looking thighs bulge as he steadied himself one leg at a time until his jeans were off and he was only clad in his underwear with dark inky designs on his skin and even on his thigh.
He kneed himself down onto the couch, hovering over you as you naturally spread your legs to allow him space between your thighs.
And the feel of his hard shaft pressing over your mound before his lips dropped down to yours once again had you dazed. It almost didn’t feel real.
“So fucking hot, Y/n…” he whispered against your lips, “Made me so hard.”
You gasped when he rocked himself down over you, fabric rubbing against fabric until your arousal had seeped through your panties and began wetting his underwear.
He moaned and parted from this kiss, “You’re all wet.” He slid himself upward and then back with a grin. “You like that?”
You nodded with a moan.
“Yeah? What else do you want, Y/n? Hm? Want to get rid of these panties?”
You moved your shaky hands down your hips and pushed at the fabric to bring them down. All you wanted was him. Your hormones were screaming at you and all you could think about was his big cock and how it would feel sliding inside of you.
Harry laughed at how enthusiastic you seemed and moved back to help you remove your panties, “Okay. We can get these off. Mind if I lose my underwear too?”
You sat up and reached for the band of his briefs as he began to push them down until he was completely bare before you.
His cock hung heavy outward, pointing toward you, like it was beckoning to be touched so you did, reaching for him and taking your palm from his tip to his base until your hand hit the dark thatch of hair and then pulled back up to his smooth head.
“I want it. Want to feel it, Harry.” You looked at him as you pumped him again.
He groaned as he watched your small hand move along his length.
“Do you have a condom?”
You swallowed and paused your motions. You definitely did not have a condom. Which was quite unfortunate because that could only mean sex was not going to happen unless he had one and was willing to go to his house to get it.
Shaking your head no you frowned.
Harry licked his lips and trailed his eyes over your tits and down your tummy, “S’okay. Plenty of other ways to have fun.”
You whined as you looked down at your hand. You had really wanted to feel that big thing wrecking your insides.
Harry took your chin and tilted your face to look up at him, “What’s wrong?”
You inhaled and let go of his pretty dick, “I wanted to feel you so bad.”
He pressed his mouth against yours, soft reassuring kisses had your heart strumming in your chest.
“Well I would hate to disappoint you,” he grinned, “Want to go to mine? I’ve got condoms. We’ll just have to put some clothes back on.”
You nodded and pushed yourself up, quickly pulling your cardigan on and slipping your leggings back up your legs.
Harry liked how desperate you seemed. That was quite the ego boost. He put his shirt back on and pulled his jeans up but left the zipper down as he clutched the fabric to keep it up.
“Guess that’s good enough for breaking your couch in, yeah?”
You laughed and nodded, “Was a good first use for it I think.”
Harry laughed as he took your hand and you two made your way out your front door to his, hurrying over grass under bare feet and small chuckles until you were in the safety and privacy of his living room. He kept your hand in his until he got to his bedroom where he pulled his shirt off and you followed suit, ridding yourself of the annoying clothing you’d had to put back on.
But you knew it was going to be worth it.
Harry dug into his bedside table for a condom and laid it on top of the wood before looking back at you, “You still want this?”
You nodded and climbed onto his bed. The tunnel vision you had was keeping your mind from wandering too far off course as you watched Harry stroke his cock, long pulls up and down to his base as he crawled after you onto his bed.
You easily opened up your legs for him to fit his hips between and felt his warm cock slipping through your folds, rubbing against your clit.
“So slippery, Y/n.” You knew you were as he drove himself over your labia, smoothing his cock against your arousal back and forth.
A shaky moan fell from your throat and Harry grinned as he smeared his lips against your mouth.
He worked himself up and down, wetting the outside of his cock and his tip as he inched through your pussylips smoothly.
You loved his mouth. Loved how he kissed you. It was raw and felt like he gave a damn. Felt like he was enjoying your mouth just as much as you enjoyed his.
Finally, he pushed himself back and reached for his condom looking at you, “Do want anything else first? Or do just want my cock?”
You looked down at his hard dick with your arousal spread all over him and it was all you wanted.
“I want your cock,” your words were breathy as you looked up into his eyes.
“Yeah? A greedy little thing aren’t you?” Harry began to pull the condom over his shaft, pinching the tip as he dragged the rubber down as far as it would reach before settling himself back against your hips, pushing your thighs back slightly, “So desperate for it,” he nudged his cock down against your pussy and then slid it up to your clit teasingly, “Couldn’t wait to have me inside you. Insisted on it even,” he grinned as he tormented you with his wide girth slipping back and forth against your cunt.
You tilted your hips up and groaned, trying to get him to push inside but he continued his taunting movements, “Now, now… so impatient. I’ll give you what you want soon enough sweetheart. But today’s my birthday so I get to control the pace. Don’t want you getting all bossy with me.”
You moaned and slid your hands over his shoulders as you rolled your hips upward again, kissing his slit with your entrance but this time he placed a hand over your thigh and held you in place, “Is it that bad, Y/n?”
You nodded, “Please, Harry.”
“Mmm… love a well-mannered lady. You gonna be good for me?”
You sighed and you would have rolled your eyes if you weren’t so horny, so out of your mind desperate, “I’m gonna be good. Please.”
“Yeah? Cause once I slide inside of you there’s no turning back.”
You gripped his shoulders tight and groaned, “Please.”
The feel of his warm, heavy cock smeared against your clit was almost too much. In fact, you could probably come from that alone if given enough time.
“So sweet for me, Y/n,” Harry took the thigh he’d been holding down and brought your leg over his low back, smoothing his hand over your skin as he positioned himself at your entrance.
The moment you felt him pressing his bulbous head through your slick muscle you dropped your mouth open and moaned but then his mouth caught yours and the noises you were making became muffled as he moved his lips against your mouth.
You knew he was going to split you in half. The slow glide of his cock inside your warm walls was intense. Inch by inch he pushed in as his lips were wrapped around yours.
Holding onto his lats you lifted your hips against his as he slid back and then buried himself into the hilt. You gasped into his mouth at the ache of him nudging into your guts and then pulling back to his tip only to slide himself back in. Working you open slowly, he continued to drive into your cunt with gushy wet noises coming from your pussy as he stretched you open.
You appreciated him plunging in slowly and easing you into fitting around his cock properly. You liked the warmup but more than that, you needed him to destroy your pussy.
When he felt you bucking upward into him he parted his mouth from yours and sat back with his knees bent. You saw him watching the space where he was connected with your cunt as he continued rolling into you.
His abs were flexing as he steadied himself in and out. You gasped when he began to fuck into you a little faster, his cock sliding through your walls and bumping into all the slick bits on your insides.
A gurgled moan fell from your lips as he smacked his hips into yours. The patting of his balls against your ass came out in wet thuds. Your tits bounced with every long stroke into your tummy and he was panting as he let his eyes scan over your body and up to your pretty face.
“Taking me so well, Y/n. Making me leak into my condom already, pussy’s so good.”
You both moaned as he drove into you, his mattress under you giving way to the force of his thrusts.
“Feels so good, Harry…” you panted.
“Yeah?” He bucked inward and ground against you, swiveling his hips and you gasped at the deep press into your cervix.
His fingers were pinching into your thighs as he stuffed himself in and you gripped his forearms for leverage and lifted your neck to watch as his cock disappeared into your body over and over again.
His shaft was coated with your shiny arousal as he slid in and out, your pussy gripping around his skin perfectly.
Harry’s moans were growing louder as he continued fucking into you wetly, hips slamming against yours making his balls strike into your ass.
His thighs were flexing as he rocked against you while your body was shivering and feeling the bliss of getting an itch scratched that you’d been needing.
You felt his right hand release your thigh and then watched him press his thumb over your slippery clit.
You let out a pathetic cry of relief when he smoothed the pad of his digit in circles on your bud, “Yes! Oh god!”
Harry coughed out a moan as he watched your face twist up, “That feel good, Y/n?”
You focused your sight on his eyes and nodded, “Yes…”
The grin on his face could have been akin to something cocky but your brain was mush as you let him wreck you with deep strokes into your tummy, wet and sloppy, dripping arousal down your ass.
The springs in his mattress were bouncing in time with his thrusts and the wooden frame on his bed creaked when he jerked his hips forward into you.
“Just like that, huh? Pussy needed fucked, yeah?” Harry’s words were coming out tight and shaky. You could hear it in his voice how good it felt for him too.
He pressed down and moved his thumb deliciously over your puffy clit as his cock punched into your organs and tissue making you throw your head back and close your eyes arching your back upward.
Harry loved the sight; your sloppy wet pussy spreading apart for his cock as you arched your back like the sexy thing you were, soft tits swaying every time he buried himself in balls deep, lips parted, neck long and stretched out as you breathily moaned his name, “Hh… Harry…”
He could watch you like this all night. Stretches of skin covered in goosebumps as if you were cold, hard nipples at the center of your wobbly squeezable tits, soft tummy clenching, and wet pussy ruined and clenching around him.
The way he was smushing and circling his thumb over your clit had your head fuzzy and your heart racing. But then he leaned over you and pressed his other hand over your low tummy as he fucked into you, pushing against your insides and making the space he was invading with his cock feel tighter as he slid upward and nudged into your guts.
“Gahhh…” you let out a gasped moan when his hand pressed into your stomach.
“Does that feel good, Y/n?” Harry’s eyes were on yours as he drove himself into you.
You nodded and scrunched your brows upward when your insides began to twist with your pussy stretching around him indulgently.
Your legs began to quiver from the strain of your muscles as you felt your orgasm nearing. Everything he was doing to you set your body alight. You reached for his strong biceps and dug your fingers in tight gasping at the depth of him.
“Be good for me, honey… there you go,” he spoke through clenched teeth, holding back his release, “Right there, huh? Feels good like that?”
You whimpered with a nod as you pinned your eyes to his. The expression on his face was lusty and filled with need as he dipped into you, pasting his hips against yours now, only fucking inward, pressing solidly against your insides.
You cried out when you felt the small burst and snap of your orgasm and he quickly moved his hands from your tummy and clit, leaning his hips against yours before pressing his palms into the mattress on either side of your shoulders and angling his body so he could pound into you and fuck you through your orgasm. The way his pelvis smushed against your clit, hips grinding against you as he pulled back and then forced his way through your opening to bury himself deep inside sent you over the edge.
You clung to his shoulders as you spasmed around his fat cock, slipping deep inside of you with a wet squelch as he reared back to his tip before rutting into the hilt.
Your vision and hearing grew muted as you came so you couldn’t hear him clearly when he babbled off nonsense, “Shit! Squeezing the fuck out of me, honey! Oh my god, that feels good. So fucking hot. Gonna make me come so hard…”
Harry’s hips struck against you repeatedly until his balls constricted and tightened and then he was pumping into his condom, his muscles stiffening with his hips pressed into yours, mashing your body into the mattress underneath you.
He choked out a moan as his cock spurted his release, throbbing and twitching inside of you as you panted at how hard he’d come. The front of his thighs were pressed into the back of yours, holding you down with his hips as he drained every drop of his come into his condom.
Then it was silent. The sound of sex and moaning was quieted and the bed was no longer creaking and thumping.
Harry pressed his chest against your tits and you felt his plushy lips on yours again and you sighed against his mouth. Slowly your ears stopped ringing and you smoothed your hands up his strong back.
He pushed his face into your neck and his warm breath dampened your skin, “Happy fucking birthday to me,” he laughed.
You grinned with a tiny giggle and opened your eyes before running your fingers into his thick curls.
When he’d pushed himself up to look down at you, you couldn’t get over how adorably handsome your neighbor was. He was sexy as hell and yet so cute at the same time.
“You all right?” His raspy voice was quiet as he searched your face and brought a hand up to your temple, his thumb drawing over your skin.
The grin on your face should have told him as much as you nodded, “Very much all right.” You puffed out a laugh.
He laughed with you and smiled widely, dimples appearing in his cheeks, “Well, welcome to the neighborhood, Y/n.”
Raising a hand up to his jaw you nodded, a cheeky grin still stretched over your mouth, “And happy birthday to you, Harry.”
Part 2
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The Winner
✰ stanford!art donaldson x stanford!f!reader
✰ word count : 1.0k
✰ summary : you never get tired of being art donaldson's girl, especially when you get to reward him for his win later that night.
✰ warnings: kissing, allusions to smut, minors dni, 18+, tashi erasure (i'm sorry), art is happy LOL.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
main m.list ⋆ art donaldson m.list
⋆ gif by @supersoldierslover
Your professor’s monotone voice was the cherry on top of your already long day. Scheduling back-to-back lectures right before Art’s game days wasn’t ideal, but you made it work. You’re grateful to not play a sport while also engaging in academics. There have been countless nights spent in the library with Art, going over his notes because his practice in the afternoon tends to run late, pushing his homework time to the late hours of the night.
With your head resting on your hand, another yawn is pulled from your body. A buzz from your back pocket jolts you awake, causing an embarrassing heat to flood your face. Quietly, you reach for your phone and check the message that almost gave you a heart attack.
artie <3: I saved you a spot! My bag should be on the seat, and there’s a snack in there for you.
You smile at the text.
you: I’ll be out of class soon! I love you, superstar.
artie <3: I love you!
And with the clock striking six thirty in the afternoon, you jump out of your seat and rush to the courts. Determination is written across your face as you frantically rush to the spot Art had saved for you that’s right at the front. Sure enough, a granola bar is inside his bag.
It only takes a few minutes before Art makes his entrance on the court, his eyes automatically searching for you. Even after months of dating, spotting him made your heart race. He’s so captivating in the way he moves, especially when he plays.
But even as he’s approaching you, you’re stuck in a daze. “Hi, pretty girl,” his voice carries a smile through it, something you’ve always appreciated. You lean over the fence and give him a kiss, his hand coming to the side of your face as if he wants to pull you impossibly closer to his touch.
Taking his other hand in yours, you can feel that his palm is slightly clammy, “Are you nervous? You shouldn’t be.”
He huffed a laugh and looked down because his ‘tough guy’ act didn’t slide past you. “I’m always nervous when you watch me play,” he admits, a rosy blush fluttering over his cheeks.
You squeeze his hand once, an unspoken form of reassurement. “Don’t be,” you smile, “I’m your number one fan.” You joke, but not really.
With one last kiss, he leaves to play the game you’ve watched him perfect for the past few years. And though he’s hitting the ball to his opponent, you can’t help but focus on your boyfriend. The muscles in his arm flex with each movement as the sweat drips down his forehead, causing him to pull the bottom of his shirt up to wipe the perspiration away. Giving you, and the girls behind you, a perfect view of the cut of his abdomen leading down to the waistband of his shorts.
Of course, you knew Art was attractive, and pair that with him being the best man on the team, he’s bound to receive attention. At first, the constant gawks and inappropriate comments towards him made your blood boil. You couldn’t stand the sight of the girls throwing themselves at your boyfriend, but now, you’ve learned to use them to your advantage.
Before dating Art, there was no way you would purposely put yourself out there. Going to parties and bars wasn’t your favorite way to spend Friday nights, but now, you’re forced to embrace the spotlight just by being associated with Stanford's star tennis player.
Art always has you by his side, an arm snaked around your waist as he greets friends at social gatherings. It took a while to get used to, but you wouldn’t have it any other way with Art by your side.
Leaning back in your seat, you enjoy the Spring sun as you watch Art’s match unfold. And with the girls behind you giggling at your boyfriend, you smile. You smile because you know you’ve won.
⋆⋆⋆⋆
With Art’s opponent hitting the ball out, that was the match; an easy victory for Stanford. You rise to your feet and smile while applauding. Slinging Art’s bag over your shoulder, you unapologetically flaunt the embroidered stitching writing, ‘DONALDSON’ towards the girls behind you before walking off.
You make your way to the exit of the locker room as you wait for Art to appear. You make casual conversation with the people around you, mostly friends and family of the other players, when some of them start to come out. Slowly, but surely, you see the mess of dirty blond hair push open the door, a smirk coming to your lips.
He puts his classic red hat on backward before engulfing you in a hug, picking you up off of your feet, and spinning you in a circle. You giggle as you find your footing on the pavement below you, “See? There's no need to be nervous when I watch. You crushed it, baby.”
“Maybe you’re my good luck charm,” he suggests, pulling away before he grabs your hand, leading the both of you to his dorm—a stupid boyish smile on his face.
You brush off the feeling of his cock pressed into your thigh as he spun you as you let him lead you to his place, “Is this you subtly asking that I come to every single one of your matches?”
“Hmm,” that smile never faded from his mouth, “maybe?”
“Are you going to prove to me why I should? Or are you going to keep subtly flirting with me until I’m the one that has to beg for you to fuck me?”
Your question surprises him and causes him to quicken his pace as you laugh behind him. He’s dragging you to his room, and you won’t stop him. Not after his big victory, he deserves to feel good tonight.
⋆ author's note: ANOTHER ART FIC BECAUSE I CANNOT GET ENOUGH OF HIM!!!! thank you for all the love on the last few art fics!!! don't forget to like, comment, and reblog this work if you loved it!! ok, ily byeeee!!!
#art donaldson smut#art donaldson x reader#art donaldson#art donaldson fluff#challengers fic#art donaldson fic#college!art donaldson#challengers 2024
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˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚
spoiled!reader who grew up going to a prestigious boarding school nestled between mountains in switzerland. breakfast at the dinning hall involved freshly baked pastries, aristinal breads, cheese boards, and locally sourced fruits that aren't even in seaosn. she gets taught latin on wednesdays and fridays, and horseback riding is part of the curriculum. fencing was optional, and the classes were always crowded, so she chose polo instead. the uniform was a crisp white blouse, tucked neatly into the pleats of italian cotton plaid skirt. the navy blazer, with the school crest—a silver eagle-- hand embroidered and shining proudly on the pocket. shoes had to be only the finest leather shoes, matte not shiny so no one stands out, and preferably with a inch or two heel for the girls. she detested the uniforms because it made everyone bland and constricted individual expression. also: her miu miu heels were not made to wear with an ugly plaid skirt.
as a result of being away from home so often for most of her childhood, she grows up quite detached from her parents. she's independent but because she really had no other choice. birthdays and christmases were always lavish, but never sentimental. every year she would get an email from her parents with a short, straight forward "happy birthday" and some more money added to her card that day. even though her family had a lot of it, money was always conditional. father’s greetings over the phone always start with “if” and mother’s favourite word was “but”.
"if you continue to get full merits on your quarterly report cards then we'll buy you that bag you've been asking for" or "your teacher says you have gone down a rank-- from top of the class to third which isn’t too bad but it’s disappointing" and "if you want to be home for Christmas, you'll finish and submit your project early or else Daddy won't pay for a flight"
as a result, spoiled!reader grew up thinking money was conditional. that whenever someone spent money on her, she needed to do something to earn it. but when she met leah that all changed. spoiled!reader will never forget their first date when she offered to split the bill (like she does with every single date she has ever been on), but leah adamantly refused. she waited for the condition to come, the "well since I payed you for you, owe me another date" because it always came sooner or later, but there was none. leah ended up getting that second date, and the third and the fourth...
so now as you ascend the stairs into the looming doors of the school entrance, it isn't as scary anymore. what used to be a place of dullness and routine, is now a mere memory tucked into the furthest places in your mind. you pull the hand that's holding leah, eagerly stepping into the grand foyer where you recognizes a few familiar faces. your pink Fendi heels, shiny not matte because you want to stand out, click clanking against the marble floor as you lead leah into the high school class reunion. some of the people in this room you have not seen once in 10 years.
"are you ready to meet the most pretentious, self-absorbed people you'll ever meet?" you whispers to your lover.
leah entwines your fingers together and gives you a grin. "remember, the safe word is apples"
in the middle of the conversation between acquaintances not friends, they speak about their current lives. subtle drags about how they can appear more fulfilled and better than the woman standing next to them. talks about law school and medical school, about how hard it's been to manage their careers. fruitless stories about how they were all busy these days that it was even a miracle they could attend the reunion. eventually, they turn their conversation to you. "what are you doing these days?"
swallowing the last sip of vintage white, you smile. "I still work at the magazine but part time now"
"oh."
you catch the note of pity in their voices, willing yourself to hold the smile threatening to crack on your face. you wanted to yank the tacky pearl necklace that rests against her collarbones. Veronica never liked you, even back then.
"Don't you want to do something with your life? You know, instead of wasting your days at some desk job"
Leah stiffens beside you, her grip on your hand tighter than it was a minute ago.
"I don't mind it, actually", your reply is curt. "My job allows flexibility for when I have to join Leah for away games and whenever I have to travel with her for work. One day we'll be in London and the next day we'll be in New York for fashion week events"
They nod along but they're obviously not too impressed. which is fine because you weren't here to impress them or participate in this little game they've invented about who has a better life post-high school. "I'm actually quite spoiled these days"
"Ahh still being spoilt by mummy and daddy?" she meant it teasingly probably but you caught the hint of scorn in her tone.
From your peripheral, you notice Leah talking a small step forward, positioning herself so that she is almost shielding you from the rest of them. her height towering slightly over the other women in your group. you notice the stiffness in her jaw and the way her eyebrows lift in mockery. she chuckles slightly into the rim of her wine glass "yeah her daddy definitely spoils her"
˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚
idk what I just wrote but i typed out that last bit with the biggest cheesy grin on my face lol
I'm sorry if this wasn't exactly what you were asking for, anon. if you want something else please send me another prompt in my inbox <333333
*This work is my original creation. Please don’t copy, share, or translate it without asking for my permission. Thanks for respecting that!
#daddy leah#<- spread the agenda#spoiled!reader#leah williamson#woso#spoiled!reader stories#anon fic requests#woso community#woso fanfics#woso x reader#leah williamson x reader#woso imagine#leah williamson imagine#woso blurbs#awfc x reader#awfc imagine#blurbs
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6t1 girlie going to celebrate that p2 real nice I reckon
silverstone celebrations | lando norris
continuation of the 6 to 1 series (read part 1 here)
lando gets a podium, his first one at his home race and surely that calls for a celebration. it's unfortunate, however, that the hotel walls aren't soundproof.
word count: 3.5k tags/warning: slight smut, fingering, female receiving, lando's a little shit but hey it's his podium, poorly translated french im so sorry, also not rly edited that well
Lando squeezed you so tight over the barriers, lifting your feet off the ground despite there being a clear fence to separate the drivers from their teams. There was no doubt in your mind that he would pull you over if he wouldn’t get in trouble from the stewards.
The neon hat fell from your head as he kissed you, not like you cared, you hated it anyway. ‘You look like a highlighter’ Charles had said when you showed up in the paddock on Friday sporting the new Grandstand merch line Lando came out with specifically for this race. It was true, though. You looked like a highlighter all weekend, but you knew Lando loved seeing you in his merch and god were you easy to spot when he got out of the car in parc ferme.
In the sea of orange and black McLaren crew members, there you were. Tears streamed down your face as you waited to congratulate Lando for his P2 finish. You were selfish about it too. You didn’t care that there were other people around you waiting to congratulate him, Zak Brown included, his family included, you wanted to kiss him and you wanted the world to see how proud you were that Lando had claimed a podium for the first time at his home race.
You pulled back, hands cupping his face. You couldn’t tell if your palms were sweaty or if Lando’s face was damp with sweat, it didn’t matter honestly, you just needed to look at him. You needed to see the excitement on his face, you wanted to take this moment in.
His hand covered yours as his eyes were squinting from how large his smile was. “We did it. We did it! P2, we-”
“No, you did it,” your voice came out broken, your happy sob choked you up and Lando nodded. He did it. You laughed, because how could you not. This was the happiest you had felt in a long time. “You did it, Lando. And I’m so, so proud of you. I love you. You did it.”
He gave your hand a squeeze before he was pulled away by someone else. A driver, a crew member, you weren’t sure. The rest of that celebration turned into a blur and it wasn’t until you felt champagne being sprayed on you as Lando stood atop the podium did it sink in that he accomplished something truly incredible at his home race. At McLaren’s home race. This would be a moment he would remember for the rest of his life and with every bone in your body, with every fibre of your being, you were proud of him.
Witnessing Charles’ accomplishments through the years had always brought you a sense of joy but this was something else. As Lando pointed at you from where he stood, a few metres above everyone else, you couldn’t explain the feeling in your chest. There were no words to explain how you felt, you just wanted to embrace this victory and be there for Lando.
Maybe it was because Lando said ‘we’. We did it, he told you. Staring directly into your glossy eyes because to him, the two of you were a team as much as him and McLaren were. His victory, his second place finish and you were very much a part of it. You were his biggest supporter, his loudest cheerleader, his motivation. He wanted to do well for McLaren of course, always, but god there was no better feeling in the world than having a good practice time or a decent quali session and seeing the look on your face. You were proud to call him yours and Lando desperately wanted to make a habit out of seeing your wide smile and teary eyes.
Honestly, he couldn’t believe it when you showed up on Friday wearing the neon Grandstand jumper. Lime green? Highlighter yellow? It was bright and hideous, is what it was, but Lando loved it and then he loved it even more seeing you in it. He didn’t know you had planned on wearing it, having shown up to the track later than him but it was a wonderful surprise.
And then Saturday, you showed up in the t-shirt and the baseball hat, the same blinding colour and he loved you even more for it.
Sunday, he was certain you’d wear something else. The paddock was also a fashion show for some people and he knew you liked to dress up.
But no, there you were again. Baseball hat, bright green jumper, you even managed to find a pair of cotton shorts in a similar colour and you could be seen a mile away. You hated it, but you loved Lando, so you could sacrifice your dignity for his home race.
Of course, you changed as soon as you could. Deciding on an orange cropped cami and white trousers, colours that highlighted your summer glow and showed just enough skin that it had Lando rubbing his hand over his face as he muttered something under his breath about how beautiful you were. You had just strapped on the second heel and straightened up when Lando came up behind you, arms wrapping around your waist.
Your head rolled back onto his shoulder when his lips found your neck. His soft and slow kisses on your already hot skin had your breath hitching in your throat. You leaned into his chest, pressing your back as close as you could to him. Every inch of you that touched Lando lit a fire within your core.
“We could skip dinner,” Lando’s voice was low, barely above a whisper as the idea flowed from his mind into your ear, something he wanted to suggest earlier. A lot earlier.
He wanted to drag you into his driver's room and watch you drop to your knees in front of him. He wanted to leave marks on your skin in the backseat of the car with the partition rolled up. He wanted to pin you up against the wall as soon as you stepped foot into the hotel room, holding your hands above your head until you were begging to touch him.
But god forbid he had post race duties that kept any of that from happening.
The debrief. The fan stage with that disgusting shoey, but he had to keep his promise to Daniel about keeping the tradition alive. The individual thank you’s and handshakes to everyone he passed in the garage and paddock. And now the dinner with friends and family that was technically his idea but would it be so bad if he cancelled?
Or at least, showed up late?
“We have a reservation-”
“Doesn’t mean we need to be the first ones there,” Lando pointed out, a deep chuckle emitting from his throat. One of his hands trailed downwards, playing with the button on the front of your pants before popping it open. His pinky traced over the thin material of your panties and there wasn’t a single word of discouragement that passed your lips when he pulled the zipper down, just a quiet whimper and Lando could have sworn he heard you say please.
You rolled your hips against him, feeling the tightening in his own pants as he spread his palm across your abdomen, fingers gripping your skin.
He dipped past the hem of your underwear, the tip of his finger just barely teasing your clit. You swallowed, lifting your hand up to drag your nails through the hair on the back of your neck, pulling his lips to your neck once more because if you were going to feel Lando you wanted to feel him everywhere.
His hand slipped further down, using his middle finger to swipe through your folds, already feeling how wet you were for him. What he didn’t know was there had been a pool forming since you first thought about celebrating his podium finish. You were as desperate for him as he was for you.
“Lando,” you whispered. His name was your plea, asking him to do something aside from his painfully slow motions. He took your earlobe between his teeth and you tightened your grip on his hair in response, your body reacting to him and his touch the way it always did.
“Don’t rush me,” a breath of a laugh fell from his lips as he pressed another kiss to the spot below your ear. The slightest bit of pressure was applied to your centre as his thumb brushed over your clit. “Only fair I get to celebrate the way I want, don’t you think?”
“Let me treat you, then,” you tried to suggest, more than happy to switch positions and bring him to the edge before dinner. But you shouldn’t have been surprised when Lando’s response was to tighten his hold on you, his clothed erection pressing into your backside.
“Maybe later,” he pushed the idea aside, wanting nothing more than to see your knees go weak and hear you call out his name because God only knew it was a better experience than any podium ceremony could ever give him. The crowd cheering for him was one thing. But you begging for him? Otherworldly.
You opened your mouth again to argue with him, but your words escaped you when Lando pushed two fingers past your tight folds, his thumb rubbing slow circles over your clit. He took his time until eventually he was knuckles deep inside of you and all you could do was cling onto him for dear life, a quiet chorus of please and faster encouraged him to find a steady pace.
Lando’s breath on your neck and his fingers sliding in and out of you had your legs giving out. If it wasn't for him physically holding up you’d be a goner. One particularly hard thrust upwards from him and the most beautiful moan echoed off the walls. He scissored his fingers against your walls, fighting back a groan himself when you clenched around him.
You were lost in your own little world that you didn’t even notice Lando trail his free hand up until it came to a stop where your jaw met your throat. His grip tightened, thumb finding your chin to tilt your face towards him as you rested on his shoulder.
“So pretty,” he praised, dragging your lower lip down ever so slightly. You stared up at him, wide eyes, fluttered lashes, stammered breaths…a sight he wanted permanently seared into his mind.
It wasn’t right. You should have been on your knees for him. It was his day, you wanted to show him just how proud you were, you wanted to congratulate him with his cock hitting the back of your throat until tears streamed down your cheeks.
But Lando loved this. You could celebrate your way later. Right now, he couldn’t ask for anything more.
He picked up the pace of his fingers, determined to bring you to the edge before you had to go to this fucking dinner. As far as Lando was concerned, he’d be happy enough with you as a meal. The mental image of you spread out on the bed as he dipped his head between your thighs was almost enough to convince him to call off the celebration tonight.
Almost.
Because the idea of being able to tease you throughout the rest of the evening was too good to pass up as well.
You swallowed heavily, feeling the familiar build up in your core, that burning sensation spread through your veins. An awaiting euphoria that only Lando could deliver to you.
His eyes darkened, recognizing the way your walls clenched around him in anticipation. His assault on your pussy quickened, the thrust of his fingers, his thumb over your clit, all of it was bringing you to the edge.
So one could imagine, this was the worst time for there to be a knock on your hotel room door only a few feet away from you.
Lando’s hand covered your mouth, knowing you were one who struggled to be quiet. Your eyes widened, your heart rate picking up and Lando only made the situation worse by not stopping. You could have sworn he sped up even.
He cleared his throat and called out to whoever was on the other side, waiting in the hall, “Yeah?”
“Just checking to see if you guys had left yet,” Charles' muffled voice came through the door. “Want to share a car?”
Lando, with a devious smirk on his face as his motions became stronger, rougher, happily answered knowing how much you were hating this. “We’d love to! We’ll be out in a moment, hang tight, mate.”
Charles said something else, something you didn’t catch as you were too focused on controlling your breaths behind Lando’s palm and praying that these walls were sound proof enough.
This was horrid. Knowing your brother was right outside the door as Lando worked desperately to push you over the edge.
He trailed his lips to your ear, “I hope you're close, love. Would hate to keep him waiting.”
You nodded, your whole body quivering. You were so close.
Lando slowly dropped his hand from your mouth, finding the look of sheer panic on your face to be amusing.
“You can be quiet, can’t you?” He taunted, knowing damn well you couldn’t.
“Lando-” it was hard to even get his name out, closing your jaw immediately when a moan threatened to escape next.
Another harsh thrust of his fingers had your hips bucking against him. It was a stark contrast from the way his thumb softly grazed over your cheek, his eyes encouraging you to give in, let go. Lando certainly didn’t give a single shit if your brother heard.
And you tried to be quiet, really. You bit the inside of your cheek as your orgasm hit you hard. Lando kept you steady and upright against his body, slowly working you through it. You fought with yourself to keep from shouting his name but there was nothing you could do about the angelic moan passing through your lips. Lando buried his face into the crook of your neck, a low rumble emitting from the back of his throat.
When you stopped pulsating around his fingers, Lando slid them out of you. He kissed your neck and then your cheek and then tilted your face to kiss your lips, gently, lovingly, softly. It almost made you forget your brother was quite literally waiting for both of you.
“I hate you,” you whispered.
Lando rolled his eyes, “You can’t hate me today, I got a podium.”
“Then I hate you tomorrow.”
Lando nodded, “That’s fine.” He kissed your cheek again as you lifted yourself off of his shoulder. He patted your butt as you turned around, “Go change, I’ll stall.”
Usually he would opt to lick your juices clean off his fingers, but he decided washing his hands would probably be the best decision. He adjusted himself as much as best as he could before looking down the hallway, not letting himself get distracted as you slipped a skirt on.
Lando opened the door to the hotel and nodded at Charles who was leaning against the wall across the way, head down as he scrolled through his phone. Charles barely acknowledged him, avoiding his eyes as he muttered something about how the car was waiting outside.
You joined them in the hall a few minutes later. Lando looked you over once and then twice, eyes narrowing at your hair but not making a comment about how you probably could have brushed it again. He just played with it as you walked next to him, both of you hoping he could smooth it out enough before you reached the restaurant.
Charles climbed into the front seat of the awaiting car while you and Lando climbed in the back. You attempted to make conversation with your brother, asking him about the debrief, but he wasn’t giving you anything in return. One word answers at most.
You pulled out your phone and texted Lando. He heard.
Lando snickered when he read your text, coming to that assumption as well with the way Charles avoided making eye contact. Instead of answering you, Lando slid his phone into his pocket and decided that the best thing to do would not be to let the situation simmer, but to bring the pot to a boil.
“Charles,” Lando cleared his throat, his hand dropping to your thigh. “It’s nice of you to join us tonight, really.”
Charles nodded, “Yeah, anytime.”
“Well I’m not you, you know? My podiums are quite far and few between so I like to celebrate when I can.”
Charles nodded again as you shot Lando a warning look. He ignored it, of course, because at the end of the day you fell for someone who was more immature than they ever cared to admit.
“It’s nice that Y/N’s here too, to celebrate with her,” Lando added. You squeezed his hand harsher than needed and he winced in slight pain, but didn’t let up, even when Charles chose not to respond. “Yeah she’s a great motivator-”
“Please stop talking,” Charles finally said, pleaded, actually. You could see him raise his hands to his face, breathing deeply into it. His voice was muffled as he spoke, but the pain in his voice was clear as dear. “For the love of god, Lando. Stop talking.”
Lando burst out laughing as your cheeks turned a bright shade of red.
“Charles-” you started.
“Nope,” he cut you off, staring directly ahead at the road in front of him. You could only imagine what the driver was thinking about this interaction. Charles refused to turn over his shoulder to look at either of you.
“We didn’t-”
“Arrêtez de parler,” Charles repeated, asking you now to stop talking. “Dites à Lando que si j'entends encore cela, je mettrai le feu à sa voiture.” Tell Lando, if I ever hear that again I will set his car on fire.
“Quelle voiture?” Which car? Not that it really mattered, but you would have preferred if Charles didn’t commit a felony during a race weekend.
“The McLaren,” Charles answered, in English, to let Lando know he was talking about him and his car despite him not being aware of the threat that just came out of his mouth.
Lando leaned in towards you, “What did he say?”
You shook your head, not wanting to dive into it right now and thanking your lucky stars when you pulled up outside the restaurant. Charles practically sprinted inside, bypassing Daniel and Carlos who tried to say hi to him.
When the two of you stepped out, Daniel approached you with some concern, nodding his head towards the doors, “What’s up with Leclerc?”
“He heard us,” Lando answered point-blankly. He and Daniel were still incredibly close, you shouldn’t have been surprised at how honet Lando was.
“He heard you?” Daniel repeated. “What does that mean?”
“He heard us,” you said, more emphasis on the word of the hour without getting into too much detail. It took a second, but Daniel’s face was priceless as he dipped his head back and laughed. He had to cover his mouth with his hands to keep from making too loud of a scene.
Lando slid his hand around your waist, pulling you into his side as Daniel’s laughing fit continued. You wanted to hide your face. Actually, no, you just wanted to hide. You didn’t want to make eye contact with your brother, ever again.
“Poor kid,” Daniel managed to get out, still chuckling. “But hey, congrats I guess-”
You reached forward, hitting Daniel’s chest and he stepped back, hands up in defence.
“For the podium,” he clarified, still grinning from ear to ear. He adjusted the hem of his collar, sending a wink towards the British driver before turning and walking inside. You and Lando waited a second, watching as Carlos clearly asked Daniel what that was about but Daniel brushed it off, telling him to ask Charles.
You stepped forward, but Lando’s hand on your waist moved to your wrist as he pulled you back. His eyes scanned over your face, seeing your red cheeks, feeling the heat radiating from your skin, losing you to the anxious way your eyes darted everywhere.
“Hey,” he whispered, hands trailing up your arms. “I love you.”
You laughed, because how could you not? Only Lando would feel the need to assure you he loved you after practically being caught by your brother, which was, technically, Lando’s fault.
“I love you,” you repeated back. “But for both of our sakes, I hope you never get a podium ever again.”
“Ah,” Lando grinned, sarcasm already heavy on his tone. “My biggest motivator, such kind words.”
“I mean it.”
You didn’t, obviously. You wanted nothing more than to see Lando’s trophy shelf filled to the brim. You wanted to see him standing on top of the podium week after week. You wanted to get used to seeing him spray the champagne over the other drivers and the crowd.
But if this was going to become a regular thing, you were certainly going to need to change the way you celebrated. Or at least, you'd be sure to confirm that the walls were soundproof.
#lando norris#lando norris au#lando norris fic#f1 requests#f1#f1 fic#formula 1#lando norris x y/n#lando norris x reader#lando norris x you#holllandtrash#lando norris smut#6 to 1 series
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Y/n: Are you sure this is how you want to spend your birthday?
Today was Wednesday's birthday, Friday the 13th, and despite Enid's persistent ideas about having a party, you and Wednesday found yourselves in the school's fencing classroom.
She had instead wanted to spend the night with you fencing; which you found both sweet and absolutely terrifying.
Wednesday: Backing out already, my love?
She asked with a rare smirk as she studied her blade.
Y/n: Not a bloody chance, Wends. Happy birthday.
You smiled at her before you lowered your face guard and raised your sword to meet hers. After a nod to each other, you both began your duel.
#friday the 13th#wednesday is a softie at heart#netflix wednesday#wednesday x reader#wednesday addams x reader#wednesday addams x male reader#jenna ortega x reader#jenna ortega x you#jenna ortega x male reader#jenna ortega#x reader#x male reader#wednesday netflix#netflix#birthday#fencing
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━━━━ THE COLLAPSE
pairing: captain john price x f!reader
2k. you move to the mountains of montana and meet your new neighbor. *tw: kidnapping
Your next door neighbor was admittedly a little weird.
You were pretty positive he was one of those doomsday prepper types that you heard of when you moved to the area — but you hadn’t seen hide nor hair of his 'bunker’ yet. You know some of them are pretty well hidden, and you’re a bit embarrassed to admit when he invited you over for a fish fry dinner after you first moved in, you totally went snooping around for it.
As strange as he might be, he seems like a nice guy. Genuine type of neighbor and you don’t want to piss him off, considering he’s your only neighbor. There’s nothing around the two of you for miles. That, and he’s actually been a pretty neighborly neighbor.
He always seems to know where you are but you figure it’s probably just because he’s clearly ex-military. When you catch yourself drinking coffee and staring at him from your porch as he fishes on the lake you share — he waves at you. When you’re trying to fix the fence on your small garden — he’s over right away with tools. When you’re struggling to carry your groceries inside — he’s around the corner, lifting over half of them out of your arms. Telling you that ‘you should really buy in bulk, love.’
And honestly, he’s right, you should. It’s been such a pain in the ass to get and haul groceries considering you moved to bum-fuck Montana — but oh is it ever beautiful. You get an absolutely breathtaking view every single day… but it takes away almost a full day from you in order to drive into the nearest town, load up, and then drive back home and unload them. By the time you’re done, you’re so tired you don’t have any energy to do anything else.
The power goes out one night. You’re not a child anymore, but it really is dark out here without any lights on. Eerie. You’re not from here. You don’t know what could be lurking out there, in the dead of night.
He comes by — of course he does. He’s got flashlights, candles, blankets and whiskey. Says the first two are to see with, the last two are to keep you warm. You let him inside just as the rain turns into a downpour.
You stay up most of the night together, talking. He tells you about his past in the military, you tell him about your writing, how you moved out here to focus and get out of the city. He pours you another drink and you have half a mind to refuse, but really you can’t let him leave yet. You’re a little scared to be by yourself out here tonight. He leaves when the power finally comes back on, only an hour before sunrise.
Loneliness seeps into your soul after a few months. You decide to invite some friends from college for a long weekend. You let him know of course. The plan is to do some hiking, but you’re sure you’ll end every night rowdy in your house. You tell him not to hesitate to show up if you’re all being too noisy.
He comes by that Friday morning, after everyone has arrived the evening before. Offers to be your hiking guide. You think, why not? You honestly aren’t much of an outdoor girly and can’t say you’ve ventured very far out here before. Might as well let the expert do it. He seems happy to — chatting it up easily with everyone, showing them little things in nature here and there.
When you get back to the house, everyone is so impressed by him they insist he comes by tonight for dinner. You almost can’t believe how easily he meshes into your group when he’s at least 12-15 years older than all of you. If you didn’t know better you would have swore he graduated with the rest of you.
He’s always on your team for any of the games you play and he's fucking good at all of them. Almost maddeningly so. You win flippy cup and pong easily. You team up in drunk Jenga and he makes you feel like he’s moonlights as an architect with how quickly you both become champions.
There’s no way he’d join you all skinny dipping in the lake — or so you’d thought. But as the rest of you tear your clothes off at the edge of the docks and jump in one by one, he’s there. Stripping down into nothing. Winking at you before he hightails it into a cannon ball. You hope what little moonlight there is doesn’t allow him to see the blush creeping up your cheeks. Doesn't allow him to track how your eyes move up his body — strong, sturdy, rugged.
One of the guys suggests playing chicken and he’s diving under and lifting you on his shoulders before you can fully register what’s happening. The soft, sensitive flesh of your pussy rubs against him with each movement and it takes every last ounce of your willpower not to grind against him like some sick fucking pervert. He’s your neighbor after all.
Winning was almost a guarantee with the two of you, even with you on top, because of how absolutely solid he is. Hands digging into your thighs, keeping you flush against him. It doesn’t matter who you’re up against because no one can push you off your perch on his shoulders. Your nipples perk, exposed to the chill of the night.
You’re fucking drenched and leaking onto him, you can tell. You just hope he’s distracted enough that he can’t feel your warm juices running down his back. You feel the prickles of his beard hair rub against your inner thigh and you have to bite down on your tongue to suppress a moan from escaping you. When he drops you back down into the lake after your undefeated streak and hits you with a whispered “that’s my good girl”, you almost try to hop back onto him then and there.
Fuck, you need to get laid.
Your friends leave once the weekend is up and it really hits you how well and truly alone you are here. Nothing can beat the beauty and serenity of Montana living — it wraps around your lungs like a creeping vine to take your breath away — but it makes you almost long for the hustle and bustle of the city you left behind. The trips to a girlfriend’s place for a glass (or bottle) of wine after a shitty day. Going out to bars and dancing the night away on a weekend. Hell, even just getting takeout when you don’t feel like cooking. All of it — the price to be paid for living here.
You can’t even begin to think about the detriment it is to your dating life. Sometimes — on the nights where you let your mind spiral — you imagine what it’ll be like living out here alone for the rest of your life.
Shockingly, you do meet a guy without even trying. Jake. Run into him. Literally in fact — you accidently trample over his foot at the grocery store with your cart. You feel so bad about it, when trying to make it up to him you find out he only lives a few miles away from you. He’s cute; outdoorsy type. Avid hiker, knows the area around your place. You invite him over for dinner tomorrow as an apology.
You go simple, not wanting to overdo it. Steak, cooked to a perfect medium rare, and baked potatoes. The two of you sit on your patio and chat until the stars come out and it’s too cold to sit any longer with soft breeze coming from the lake. Jake gets a fire roaring in your cozy little living room and you both curl up to it on the floor with a glass of wine.
He spends the night. You wonder — are you being too easy? Honestly… yeah, probably. But to be fair to yourself, you needed this… badly. You’re in quite literally the longest dry spell of your life. Living in the mountains hasn't helped that.
You jolt, waking up in a sweaty sheen that coats your skin. All night you’ve had the feeling that you’re being watched. It’s probably due to the fact that Jake, who is snoring lightly in your bed next to you, told you a few ghost stories about the mountain being haunted. That, and it’s easy to be paranoid living way out here.
Jake hangs around more and more. You go hiking, fishing, stargazing. Strangely, the more you see of Jake, the less you see of your neighbor. He’s not out on his boat on the lake anymore; you don’t see him grilling in his backyard or hiking the trails around your place’s. It’s… weird. He was such a solid fixture in your life when you first moved here.
It’s been over a month since you last saw him. The ghost of him lingers everywhere and it's starting to drive you crazy. When you’re tending your garden and you notice the part of the fence he helped to fix, you think of him. When you grill fish with Jake for dinner, your mind wanders back to him. Your mind plays tricks on you too — the back of your neck prickles and you think he’s going to be there when you turn around. But he’s not, he just… disappeared into thin air.
You decide you’re gonna go check on him today. It’s Saturday, and it’s a beautiful and sunny day. Typically a day you’d see him outside around the house. Jake’s coming over later tonight and you would like to introduce them to one another, especially after talking him up to Jake. Maybe he’ll come over for dinner?
When you get to his place and knock on the door, there’s no response. The door creaks open a bit from the force of your small hand. The house is dark and silent. You gingerly cross the threshold into his house, taking one tiny step into the foyer as you call out to him. It’s been a while since you last stepped foot in here.
You don’t want to intrude on him or his privacy but you’re honestly starting to get very worried at this point. What if he’s hurt? You push the door open a bit further and take another few steps in, again calling for him.
The house is just as neat as you remember from last time — nothing looks to be out of place. The dishwasher is running so that’s a good sign that he’s okay. You open your mouth to call out his name again when suddenly someone comes up to you from behind and presses a cloth to your face. You panic, limbs flailing wildly and inhale more of the slightly sweet, acetone-reminiscent scent. Your screams are muffled by the hand covering your mouth, and you scratch at it, feeling the hairy arm of whoever is behind you until the world becomes black.
When you come to, you feel a little foggy. You’re in… a basement? There are no windows, just industrial style lights. A bed resides in the center of the room — a bed that you are currently tied to — with each limb belonging to its own post.
Holy fuck… holy fucking fuck. Sheer terror spreads like poison through your body. This can’t be real. It can’t be. You’re too old to be kidnapped. You think you’re probably too old to sex trafficked… maybe? The rational part of your brain tells you to slow down and formulate a plan, but the other side of your brain — the one that’s currently reacting to the situation at hand — is kicking and screaming and gouging into your skin. The handcuffs on your wrists and ankles dig deep, biting hard into your skin.
You scream when you notice a shadowy figure hulking just out of eyesight. It moves slowly, so slowly. You throw yourself as far as you can to the other side of the bed, trying to get away from it.
When the figure steps into the light, your blood turns to ice. Sweat glides down your back in swift rivulets even as a chill seeps into your bones.
“…John?”
“Yes, love?”
#call of duty#cod x reader#john price x reader#john price x you#john price x y/n#john price imagine#captain john price x reader#captain john price x you#captain john price x female reader#captain price x reader#captain price x you#captain price x female reader#captain price x y/n
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Fence by Pekabo Via Flickr: Bushtits on the fence Terranea 312
#Bushtit#tiny and fast#tiny bird#terranea resort#terranea#palos verdes birds#southern california birds#Bird watching#Birdwatching Los Angeles#wesen#Vogel#Psaltriparus minimus#pekabo90401#80D#canon 80D#Mésange buissonniere#Sastrecillo#happy fence Friday#fence#fence friday#fence monkey#canon#Camaraderie#friendship#lightroom#black and white#bird on a fence#HFF#100-400#flickr
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dog days of summer
Kinktober Day 7 | WinWin Masterlist | Member Masterlist
tags: cute, romantic, car sex, fingering, foot fetish, toe sucking, werewolf!WinWin
length: 3346
When you and WinWin first got together, you always told your friends he gave you such strong golden retriever vibes. Like, he was a good boy, was always excited to see you; he just gave off that happy-go-lucky energy. He enjoyed little treats. He enjoyed you praising him for doing a good job with whatever he was doing. He liked going on runs with you.
There was one time you were describing him to a friend, and she laughed as she asked, “Is he your boyfriend or your dog?”
Sure, WinWin had some qualities and interests that were kinda similar to a dog. But that wasn’t a bad thing.
And then comes a long weekend in the summer, during which you and WinWin decide to go drive down the coast.
“God, I love a good, long car ride,” WinWin said when you brought up the idea to him. “Windows down, wind blowing through my hair, enjoying the sunshine and ending up someplace new and exciting.”
You immediately think of your family dog from childhood, the way he’d always been so excited to get in the car, always stuck his head out the window with his ears flapping in the wind, how he’d always been so excited when you reached the destination and there were new things to smell and new people to meet.
“So is that a yes?” You ask.
WinWin nods. “Yeah. It’ll be nice to take a weekend away. We’ve not gone away together yet.”
“Exactly. And we can make it so romantic.” You reach for his hand, which makes WinWin smile softly at you, looking at you with pure adoration in his eye. “We can get a hotel room beside the beach, have a picnic, and I’ve always wanted to just lay out on the beach at night and stargaze.”
“Sounds romantic.” WinWin kisses you. “I can’t wait.”
When Friday comes around, WinWin comes by your place in the morning to get an early start, and you drive, leaving the city by mid-morning. Windows down, wind blowing, sun shining, and WinWin plays music and sings to you when your favorite songs come on.
You stop at a small beach town for lunch, pulling into a parking lot fenced in by trees that shade your car.
You take a walk around the small town, enjoying the warm sunshine and the cool breeze, peering into cute shops and small restaurants, unsure where you want to eat for lunch.
“Cute picnic lunch?” WinWin suggests after he spots a grocery store. “Didn’t you say you wanted to have a romantic picnic? Why don’t we go in, buy some stuff, and find a nice picnic spot?”
So you do exactly that.
You have limited options for picnic fare while you’re in a grocery store. You buy fancy cheese, a container of berries, some deli meats sliced thin, making your own little charcuterie spread. At the recommendation of the older woman working the cash register, you and WinWin pack back into your car and drive a bit further down the coast to a nice view.
There’s no other cars around, which is fine as you back into a parking spot at the edge of the parking lot. WinWin hops out and pops open the back hatch of your car, and that’s where you set up the picnic, sitting in the spacious back of your car, the hatch propped up, the sweet breeze reaching up to you from the sea.
It’s nice and sweet, sitting there together like this, eating and chatting, enjoying the view. And occasionally, WinWin picks up a berry and feeds it to you.
And there’s definitely something romantic about WinWin feeding a perfectly red strawberry to you. Something tantalizing about his fingertips brushing your lips. Something utterly distracting about his gaze fixed on your lips.
It gets your heart pumping when WinWin leans over your picnic assortment to kiss you. He’s kissed you a thousand times, but your heart still races with each kiss.
The burst of berry sweetness is still there on your tongue, and WinWin moans softly at the taste. You press closer to him, draping your arm over his shoulders, forgetting the food as you draw yourself into his lap, as you kiss him harder, more intensely, more hungrily.
His hands are on your hips, holding you in his lap, pressing you forward as you make these little wanton moans and rock your hips.
WinWin nips at your bottom lip, pulling back only long enough to say, “Should we put a pause on this until we reach the hotel?” And then his mouth is back on yours, muffling your denial.
You want to keep going. There’s no one around, and maybe that’s why the woman at the store had recommended this spot for a romantic picnic. You grasp at WinWin’s shoulders, sighing his name as he slides his hand down your back until his fingers slip beneath the cute sundress you’re wearing to grab your bottom.
“Right here.” You press the words to WinWin’s lips between kisses. “I want to have sex right here. Right now.”
Your wish is WinWin’s command, ever the obedient boyfriend.
You hear the food get knocked away as WinWin slides one arm around, and you know you’re going to have to pick berries out from under the car seats later, but right now you don’t care. WinWin rolls you under him onto your back. He stands just at the bumper, pushing your dress up above your belly while he keeps kissing you. His hands wander your thighs and belly without looking, and you buck your hips, searching for any contact where you need him most.
WinWin pulls away from kissing you, rising up until his head is brushing the ceiling of the car. “You’re so beautiful,” he declares, running his hand up your side and pushing your dress up even higher, over your tits. “I could look at you like this forever.”
“I hope you do.” You reach up, lacing your fingers with his. “But right now I need you to do more than just look. I need you to touch.” You bring your entwined hands down between your legs, laying his fingers right over your pussy where you want him.
WinWin pulls his hand away, but only so he can wrap his hands around your ankles. He pulls the shoe off of one foot, tossing it behind you into the car, and then he does the same to the other. He pushes your ankles up, knees to your chest and ankles in the air. And then his hand is back, tugging the fabric of your panties to the side, and he slides his fingers inside you, his thumb to your clit.
WinWin fingers you until he has your legs trembling, your mouth opening to let out a series of whines and whimpers. You push one of your feet against his chest, pressing him back, and you finally manage to gasp out, “Wait, wait, I don’t want to cum yet. Want you to cum with me.”
He curls the fingers of his free hand around your ankle. “Cum once for me now, cum again with me later.” WinWin strokes his fingers inside you, swirling his thumb against your clit, pressing you just right. “Come on, cum for me, baby.”
You fall apart around his fingers, trembling, pushing your foot harder against WinWin’s chest.
When WinWin pulls his fingers away from your center, you slowly let your foot drop, tracing it down from where you had it resting over his heart, down over his stomach, his abdomen, down to the front of his pants where you draw your toes around the bulging evidence of his erection.
He holds tight to your ankle.
Pretty early on in this relationship you learned that WinWin was into this. He loved your feet – licking, sucking, nibbling on your toes. Your feet just did something extra special to him. So times, like right now, when you really, really wanted to make him desperate, all you had to do was get your foot in his lap, trace the tip with your toes, caress the shaft with the arch of your foot.
He moans as you do exactly that right now, brushing your foot along the defined shape of his cock against the front of his pants. You trace your big toe down along the zipper, then slide the sole of your foot back up his length. WinWin’s eyes flutter as you circle your toes again at the bulging tip.
“Stop,” he growls, suddenly jerking your ankle up into the air again. “Are you trying to make me cum in my pants?”
You laugh. “Why? Would that work?”
WinWin curls his fingers around both of your ankles, holding your legs wide apart, ankles up in the air.
Once again, you’re grateful that this little viewpoint isn’t a popular one. You’re not so sure that an audience would enjoy the show that you and WinWin are putting on.
“It probably would work, if I’m being honest.” WinWin drops his hand from one of your ankles. “But I thought you wanted us to cum together?”
Your freed foot comes to rest against his chest. WinWin glances at it before looking back up at your face with one of his eyebrows raised. “I just like to see my feet drive you wild.”
You hear the sound of his zipper dropping, but you don’t look away from your boyfriend’s face. You can tell his hand is moving down between his legs, but both of you hold each other’s gaze, never looking away until the moment that WinWin sinks forward, dipping his tip inside your pussy. It’s then that he breaks your gaze, his attention dropping to where he can watch his cock be swallowed up by your pretty pussy.
He drops his hand from your other ankle, reaching for your hip as he drags your ass to the edge of the car, pulling you onto his cock.
You keen his name, the sound carried away in the wind as WinWin starts moving, leaning into the foot that you have pressed to his chest.
Your other ankle you hook around his lower back, using it to pull him in deeper, not that he lets it keep him there. WinWin moves freely, thrusting into you at a good pace, hard enough to make the whole car rock. His hips clap against your ass, your whole body moving from the force of each of his thrusts – tits bouncing, hands flying up above your head to try to steady yourself.
WinWin touches your calf, gliding his fingers along the muscle up to your ankle, the foot pressed to his chest.
You watch through half-lidded eyes as WinWin pulls your foot up to his face. He inhales, his nose tracing the curve of your sole, his lips leaving light kisses from heel to toe. And when he reaches your toes….
“WinWin!” You moan, unable to help it as he sucks your big toe into his mouth.
Before him, this wasn’t something you’d experienced much of. No one you’d been with before was ever really into feet except maybe a little game of footsie or the tactic of sliding your foot into his lap to tease him a bit. But no one liked your feet as much as WinWin; you’d certainly had an eye-opening experience the first time he asked if he could suck on your toes, and in the time since then, you’d grown to truly enjoy it.
WinWin rocks his hips forward, burying his cock in you again and again as he sucks on your big toe. You slide a hand down to your clit, lift your other hand up to pull down the cup of your bra, to touch your boobs while WinWin watches. He pulls his mouth away from your toes, kissing along the side of your foot, to your ankle, then back again.
Your pussy is throbbing by this point, tingling as you push your fingers in erratic shapes over your clit. WinWin’s doing everything right for you right now, pressing his hips close and just humping his cock into you, worshipping your foot, moaning as he watches you touching yourself.
“I’m gonna cum,” you announce, dragging your hand away from your chest to slide it against WinWin’s hip. You sink your fingernails into his skin, loving the way that he hisses and jolts into you. His eyes flutter shut when you trail your nails across his abdomen, up his toned stomach, dragging your fingernails over his skin enough to leave marks. “WinWin, cum with me.”
He presses his lips to the arch of your foot, his nose against your toes, and he lets go.
WinWin thrusts into you a few times rapidly, and then he’s cumming, pushing in slow to savor the tight pulsing of your warmth around him as your orgasm quickly follows his. He fucks you both through your orgasms, sinking in fully as he eases your ankle away from his face and down to the side.
WinWin lays over you, his chest pressed to yours, and he kisses you deeply, your breaths mingling, and soft whimpers leaving your lips as he continues to shift his hips forward, rocking into you to push you into a weak orgasm, like the aftershocks of an earthquake.
You wrap your arms around him, holding him there for several moments.
After a bit, when you finally feel coherent enough to speak again, you say, “And to think, we’ve already had sex once, and we’re not even to the hotel yet. Our romantic weekend hasn’t even really started yet.” You brush your fingers through his hair, but WinWin reaches up, tangling his fingers with yours and pulling your hand back down to rest beside your head. “WinWin, I’m thinking to continue this romantic vibe right now, what do you say that we eat dinner on the beach by the hotel tonight? Get something to go from the hotel’s nice restaurant, picnic blanket on the sand, a little candlelit or lantern-lit dinner under the full moon tomorrow night?”
“Wait, what? It’s the full moon this weekend?” WinWin jolts upright, untangling his fingers from yours.
“Yes.” What’s his problem?
WinWin pulls away from you, walking away from the car before spinning around and turning back towards you. “Shit, I knew there was something I was forgetting. I was just so caught up with the idea of coming here with you. You seemed so excited, and that made me excited too, so I completely forgot!”
“Forgot what?” You sit up too, pulling your dress back down. “WinWin, what are you talking about?”
He sighs, sinking back down onto the bumper. “There’s something I need to tell you, but promise me you won’t freak out?”
The simple existence of that phrase makes you want to freak out. What is he about to tell you? That he’s married and he’s forgotten it’s his and his wife’s anniversary? That he’s got a kid, and it’s their birthday? That he has to attend some satanic ritual and offer you up as a blood sacrifice to the full moon? You hate that you’ve gone so quickly from the bliss of moments ago to this mild panic raging through you now.
WinWin drops his face into his hands and groans.
“Sicheng, just tell me. You’re scaring me.” You put a hand on his shoulder, rubbing soothingly down his back. “What is it?”
“I didn’t want to tell you,” he chokes out into his palms. “I thought I wouldn’t have to, that I would be cured before I’d have to tell you.”
You freeze. Your heart stops. What is he saying? “Are you dying?”
“No!” He sits up, and looks at you for the first time in several minutes. “Baby, no, I’m not dying. I – I’m a werewolf. And I know that sounds like some bullshit story, but I swear to you, I’m a werewolf, and if I’d realized this weekend was the full moon, I never would have come along on this trip. I would never risk putting you in danger. Shit!”
WinWin jumps to his feet again, pacing away from the car while he rakes his fingers through his hair.
A werewolf?
He’s got to be lying, right?
But then your brain begins connecting the dots. All of his dog-like qualities you’ve noticed and joked about with your friends. His thing for feet, which is similar to your childhood dog’s love for licking and sniffing the feet of anyone he met. How rare he likes his meat when you go out to dinner together. How last month and the month before WinWin had been MIA for the nights surrounding the full moon.
“You’re not joking, are you?” You ask, standing up to walk towards him.
He’s still facing away from you, hands in his hair.
“WinWin.” He doesn’t look at you. “Dong Sicheng, look at me!”
It takes you fisting your hand in the back of his shirt and tugging to get him to turn around and look at you.
“Are you really a werewolf?” You can hardly believe those words are coming out of your mouth. “I don’t care if you are, but are you really? How?”
WinWin sighs. “It’s a long story, but I got bit a few months before I met you. I’ve been mostly living a normal life, except the night of, the night before, and the night after the full moon. Those nights are… pretty rough. I’ve met some others affected by the bite, and some of them swear there’s a cure out there, that researchers are working on making one available to the masses of affected people. I was really, really hoping I’d be able to hide this from you until then. I’m such a goddamn fool! I’m putting you at risk being here.”
“Well,” you say quietly, “what do you normally do for the full moon? Do you go somewhere?” You wrap your arms around him, lay your head on his chest. His heart is racing beneath your ear.
“I just lock myself in my apartment. I haven’t hurt anyone yet. I just transform, but I’m always scared I’m going to break out, that I’ll hurt someone.” He hugs you tightly. “Some of the others I’ve met say that stuff like that happened to them. I’m just scared.”
“Maybe you can lock yourself in the bathroom of our hotel room?” You suggest. “I can barricade you in?”
WinWin laughs a little. “Maybe.”
“Listen.” You lift your head from his chest to look into his eyes. “Dong Sicheng, I love you. And I know you love me too. I don’t think you’re going to hurt me. You sound too determined to not hurt me. And if we’re safe, if we take precautions by locking you in the bathroom, barricading the door between me and you, I think we’ll be fine. I want to give it a try.”
He sighs, and you can see in his eyes that he’s warring with himself, debating whether he should follow your wishes, or if he should tell you that he’d like to head back home so he can lock himself safely away in his own apartment. But in the end, he decides to go with what you want.
You both spend twenty minutes cleaning berries and cheese out from beneath your seats, and then you climb into the front seat and drive away.
“Tell me what it’s like,” you ask, reaching over for WinWin’s hand once you’re on the road again. “Tell me how it happened. Tell me everything, and don’t feel like you need to hide any of it from me. I love you, and I’ll love you no matter what.”
When you look over at him, WinWin is looking straight ahead out the windshield, but you can tell by the way that he’s gripping your hand, the way that he lets out a shaky sigh of relief, he’s so grateful that you’re still treating him like the man you’re in love with rather than just a monster.
a/n: I think I'm so funny with the little dog jokes in there lol, but anyway here was this one! Day 7 down, only 24 more to go! This is another one where I think a part 2 might eventually happen, but I'm not making any promises about that.
I hope you enjoyed! Reblogs are deserving of my eternal gratitude, likes are greatly appreciated, and your thoughts and comments are always welcome !
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Fuck It Friday!
Sharing a little bit of my Bucktommy spinoff of my Bathena Ranch AU, featuring baby Alfie. This wip and Alfie in particular have been my guilty pleasure over the past couple of months and I'm so happy that I've finally had some beans to write them.
Buck hurries over to his son. “What’s wrong, is he okay?” he asks, holding his arms out. Eddie surrenders the baby to his father, looking a little regretful as he passes a hand through Alfie’s soft curls. “He’s fine, just getting tired.” Eddie tickles Alfie’s cheek and the baby gives another hiccup, his lip trembling. “Too much socialising for you, huh bud! I won’t take it personally.” Buck smiles softly at his best friend’s tenderness towards his son – ever since Alfie’s birth, Eddie had been by his and Tommy’s side, helping them with cooking and cleaning, and even taking Alfie for talks around the block when Buck and Tommy were in desperate need of a nap. Alfie whimpers again before his face splits into a huge yawn. “Ohhhh, yeah, that’s a sleepy baby if I ever saw one.” Tommy smiles as he walks up behind his husband, wrapping his arms around Buck’s waist. He presses a feather-light kiss to Buck’s neck and gazes adoringly at his son over Buck’s shoulder. “Want me to take him?” “Nah, it’s okay. I’ve got it.” Buck gently bounces Alfie as he makes his way back to his chair beside Bobby. The fire captain gives Buck a fond look and stretches out a hand to gently brush against the back of Alfie’s onesie, before returning to his conversation with Karen. The volume levels are still quite loud, aided by Jee, Christopher and Denny’s animated conversation about which Disney film is the best. Jee seems firmly stuck on Moana and will not accept Christopher and Denny’s suggestion of Mulan. Alfie can’t seem to settle, wriggling in Buck’s arms until he lets out a frustrated cry. “Shhh sweetheart, it’s okay,” Buck soothes, adjusting Alfie so he’s lying on Buck’s shoulder. “Daddy’s here.”
Bonus: Tommy introducing Alfie to the horses & tags under the cut
The horses trot towards Tommy as he runs his hand along the fence of their paddock, hopeful he’ll slip them an apple slice or some sugar cubes. Clover tosses her mane, the long silky strands flowing behind her like finely spun gold. Ranger – Bobby’s grey gelding – snorts and paws at the ground, nudging Tommy’s arm with his blunt nose. Tommy chuckles and rubs Ranger’s nose, enjoying the velvety feeling beneath his fingers. “Hey boy,” he says as he scratches along Ranger’s jaw. Clover seems content to let him get all the attention, nosing instead at the small bundle strapped to Tommy’s front. She huffs out a breath of air and gives Tommy an almost quizzical look. Tommy smiles. “That’s right, you haven’t met this little guy yet, have you?” He opens the wrap, revealing the top of Alfie’s head which he supports with his hand. Alfie’s mouth hangs wide open as he sleeps and there’s a patch of drool on Tommy’s shirt. “This is my little boy, Alfie. He's only a couple of weeks old, but he's the most precious thing in my life, aside from Evan.” The horses toss their heads at the small, weird looking thing in Tommy’s arms, but Clover takes a step forward and nudges him with her nose, gentler than she would do to Tommy. Alfie stirs in Tommy’s arms but doesn’t wake. “I never thought I'd have a son, so this is kind of surreal to me you know?” Tommy continues. “He's so small and precious, and he relies on me or Evan for everything and it's nice? To be needed?” Tommy finds that he doesn’t struggle to say this to the horses. He’s been thinking it for weeks, how he never thought he’d find a man who would love him enough to want to start a family with him, and he never dreamed he’d have a baby as perfect as his son. He’s biased, of course, but every word he says to the horses is founded in truth. It all still feels like a dream to him. Tommy clears his throat, pushing aside the emotion threatening to well up. “Anyways, this is him, you can sniff his head if you like.” He moves closer and Ranger snuffles at Alfie’s head. The fine hairs on Alfie’s head swirl as Ranger breathes out. “He smells really good, which apparently is common for newborns,” Tommy continues with a grin. He scratches behind Ranger’s ears before letting out a long sigh. “I should probably take him back inside or Evan will worry. He's a little clingy of Alfie right now, but don't tell him I said that.” He gives Ranger one last pat and rubs Clover’s nose fondly before turning around and making his way back to the house.
NP tagging friends/mutuals (feel free to ignore) @theotherbuckley @hippolotamus @daffi-990 @buckera @watchyourbuck
@bidisasterevankinard @babybibuck @bibuckbuckgoose @actuallyitsellie @bucks-daddy-issues
@wikiangela @loveyouanyway @spotsandsocks @slightlyobsessedwitheverything @thekristen999
@tommysdaddykink @underwaterninja13 @rainbow-nerdss @monsterrae1 @bigfootsmom
@perfectlysunny02 @inell @agenttommykinard @buckevantommy @bucksbignaturals (lmk if you want adding or removing for this wip)
#james writes#bucktommy#bucktommy wip#evan buckley#tommy kinard#ranch au#ranch au: bucktommy edition#boy!dads bucktommy#911 abc#911#911 fanfic
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͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏the missions (these are excerpts from eric harris's site)͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏͏❀ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏
[CONTENT MISSING]
1 The first was when we put an entire assortment of very loud fireworks in a tunnel, and lit them off at about 1:00AM. This mission was part of a rebellion against these assholes that shot one of our bikes one day. They were rather angry that night, and we were very happy. We will be doing another hit on their house sometime in the near future. And that one will be much closer. And louder.
After each mission we get drunk. Not with wimpy beer, we only use hard liquor. Aftershock, Irish Cream, Tequila, Vodka, Whiskey, Rum, and sometimes a few shots of EVERCLEAR. We also sometimes make up our own shooters. And sample others (never try a prairie fire, its killer!). In our next few missions, we are planning to hit the dorks house a few more times, along with a few other houses. And also set off some more fireworks at that tunnel. We each have a large supply of fireworks...loud ones...and soon I will have my license and we can drive around any place we want to. heh heh. Soon I will be putting our directions for mixing drinks that we make up. We will put up any good shooter or other drink that we try. So check this place out often.
[CONTENT MISSING]
R....e....b....e....l....C....l....a....n
this page was written by REB
REB VoDkA KIBBz
2 Our second mission was against this complete and utter fag's house. Everyone in our school hates this immature little weakling. So we decided to "hit" his house. On Friday night (2/7/97) at about 12:15AM we arrived at this queer's house. Fully equipped with 3 eggs, 2 rolls of toilet paper, the cheap brand, no pretty flowers, (we were disappointed to) superglue, and the proper tools to make his phone box a busy box (for those of you that are stupid, a buy box is where you set their box so that when they try to make a call, they get a busy signal and when someone else calls, they get a busy signal too). We placed 2 eggs in his very large, thick bushes. We just barely cracked them open so they will be producing a rather repulsive and extremely BAD odor for sometime. We placed the last egg on his "welcome" mat. It was very neat, I cracked the egg, put the yoke in the center, and the 2 halves on either side of the yoke. Then we teepeed his large pine tree and this...oak? tree. I don't know, it's big though. It wasn't a complete teepee but it was enough to agitate the homeowner greatly. We also put the superglue on the front door and on the little red mailbox flag.
3 This mission was an attack on the people who shot Vodka's bike, and on some random houses. First, after sneaking out of my house at around 1:55, we lit off 1 strand of 200 thunderbombs and 6 bottle rockets. We had also set a time delayed assortment too. This was made of 10 bottle rockets and a few crackling balls. We aren't really sure if those went off though because by the time they would have, we were a mile away. After the fireworks we went over to this asshole's house. His name is brooks brown {redacted by FBI and missing in files - possibly home address}. If any of you feel like pranking him. Anyway, we didn't really do much to him. Just put some model puddy on his Merc. Then, we went to another kid's house, and started to teepee his big, tall, thick, thorny-ass-tree. We set off the motion detectors about 4 times, and we dodged 1 car. But we didn't get caught! His tree was completely covered and wrapped in ass wiping paper. Even though we only had 4 rolls, we did one helluva good job. After that we moved some rather large rocks onto people's driveways and tagged RC into a fence. Then, we came home and got drunk while watching Bordello of Blood.
4 This mission was frehkin unique. The mission was from my house (REB), through the corridor, past the graves, and to the place where we do all of our fireworks. It was supposed to be like the other missions to this place. The weather was nice, we had 4 items made up and ready for use. The first fuse didn't work. The second fuse malfunctioned also. Both of those items were just about 100-120 thunderbombs strapped together. We had one more like the first 2 and we also had a little contraption of bottle rockets. These bottle rockets were strapped together, and put into a bottle. We placed this bottle on top of a large hill. So quite a few people could see. After about the 3rd try, I decided to just light the fuses that were directly from the rockets. Usually we use loooong fuses so we have time to get away. But this time, with Vodka and Kibbz standing over in front of some bigass shrubbery. I just did the direct fuse. After lighting it I ran like a sonuvabitch to Vodka and Kibbz.
By the time I made it to them the rockets were starting to go off. We had about 50 in the assortment, so it lasted a while. It was rather perrrty. Then we busted the bottle and went BACK to the 2 strips that didn't work. They both had rather crappy quality fuses so they went out before they reached their target. I took the last one, tied the remainder of the first 2 fuses to it, and lit it for the final f*ckin time. Since I am the fastest in the group, I usually light the fuses and Kibbz would be at the point where we stop running. Vodka would keep guard while I light. This time both of them went over and laid down on the side of this hill about 100 yards away. This would be the first time we have ever seen our own work in action. All the other times we just heard them. I lit it, ran to the hill, and watched the lovely ass fireworks go off. They lasted about 45 seconds, a total of around 400 went off. Dogs were barkin and everything. It was really cool to see em all to.
After that we went to this point in the trails that looked like the Q from quake. We smoked some cigars, and headed home. Except...when we were a few blocks away from home, we had an incident. We were walking along the sidewalk when a f*cking garage door opened at the house that we were right by! We bolted into that person's yard...and ducked down and tried to be as quiet as possible. This adult came out, got his newspaper(it was about 4:30 in the AM) and went back in. I tried to signal Vodka and Kibbz but they didn't see me. We waited...a few minutes later the man got in his car and started down his driveway. The flood of lights from his car just covered us. He stopped, got out, and yelled "WHO ARE YOU!" we got up, said we were just passin through and stuff, and he kept sayin "GET OUT OF HERE", "ILL CALL THE COPS!" and "WHO ARE YOU." We f*ckin hauled assholes and elbows home.
This mission was also liquor free as a result of this person named Brooks Brown {redacted by FBI and missing in files - possibly home address} who tried to narc on us. Telling my parents that I had booze and @#%$ in my room. I had to ditch every bottle I had and lie like a f*ckin salesman to my parents. All because Brooks Brown thought I put a little nik in his windshield from a snowball.......BS? yes, Anyway, that was mission 4.
5 This mission was one of the best we ever did. This was from Kibbz's house to several locations in his neighborhood. That night was probably the longest walk we ever did. First we went to this soccer field/playground. It was right on the corner of a very busy intersection. So every minute we had cars going by. There was a lot of moonlight that night, we got to the playground and dodged the lights of cars for about 20 minutes. Then we decided what our first strike would be like.
We got a big McD's cup, and went to the center field of the soccer field. We got out about 20 bottle rockets that were stripped together, and a 100 somethin strip of blackcats. Each had very good and long fuses so we had lots of time. We lit them, and ran over and got in front of these big pine trees. We were totally out of vision. The rockets went off first. They launched out over the field and then the strip went off, after that we started goin back the way we came. Which went through this trail about 35 yards wide with houses on either side. We found this large metal tub...perfect for firecrackers!!! We decided that Kibbz and Vodka would walk off toward the street on the other side of the trail and hide behind some trees while I lit it. Except...the street was over 100 yards away. And they were about 15 yards past it. Once they signaled me, I lit the small assortment of thunderbombs and about 50 stickless bottle rockets. They would only make sound, no visual effects. But anyway, I lit and sprinted the whole f*ckin way. About 3/4ths the way the fireworks went off, I was right in the middle of this bigass trail.
I never ran so fast in all the missions. But I made it to the others and watched all these lights go on from the houses. Then we walked over to this big open hill between some houses and a busy street. We got a long wooden board and placed it on the hill. We had a long strip of about 200 and a little brick of about 3 packs of thunderbombs. This time we used a cigarette fuse. We only needed about an inch of it. We lit the cigarette and went over to hide behind some trees. When it went off it was VERY loud where we were so we bolted outa there. After a few minutes we went back to see if all the stuff had gone off and it all did. So we got some souvaneers (i know misspelled) and went home. Drank some Aftershock that night too. We were supposed to have a few chicks come with us, but they couldn't make it...so maybe next time.
[CONTENT MISSING]
6. Awwww yeya. This mission was so fuckin fun man. Ok, first of all, my dad was the only parent home so it was much easier getting out...but still hard since all these rocks in my backyard make so much noise. Plus the neighbors faulting dog barking its faulting head off. First we went through the corridor...going through some very tall grass fields...not as tall as the ones in the Lost World, but close. Felt kinda cool. Then we set up the strip of 1132 firecrackers. Using w cigarettes as starting fuses, we had plenty of time to spare. We also had a nice little crackering fountain hooked up to the fuses too. After a few minutes of setting it up, we lit it and went over and hid it on top of this big cement pipe going under a street. We were on the side of a hill so we hid in the grass. There was also a full moon that night, and not a foaming cloud in the sky. So it was like noon on the equator when we were out in the open. But, black clothing and tall grass sure helps. After about 5 minutes (forever) it began.
Beforehand we watched as some lights in the target house went on.....then off. Maybe the bastard heard something. But when the strip started, he turned his bedroom lights off. The strip lasted for about 30 seconds.....we think.....it was very fucking long. Almost all of it went off, loud and bright, everything worked exactly how we wanted it to. After about 15 minutes we started down the bike trail to the next target. The first targets lights were on again in the bedroom but we think we got away undetected. While we were walking to the next target we shot some stuff. Heh, VoDkA brought his sawed off BB gun and a few BBs too. So we loaded it, pumped it, and fired a few shots at some houses and trees and stuff. We probably didn't do any damage to any houses, but we aren't sure. The gun was not loud at all, which is very good. At the next target, we set up the saturn missile battery and the rockets. These both had fuses about 2-3 feet long. I lit them as VoDka and KiBBs were hiding in the shadows.
Luckily there were some trees and stuff at the 2nd target so we could hide pretty good. Anyway, I lit and went over to the others. We watched as the fuses burned and burned...then the rockets went off. It was pretty nice, not so much meant as a prank, but more as a nice little fireworks show. They made some noise, but nothing to shit yer pants about. But the battery didn't work. So I went back, checked it out, and the fuse had burned down to about 2 inches. So I just said up yours baby nad lit it. Right as I made it back to the others it went off. It was pretty quick, and loud too. Since the missiles are whistlers, they probably woke up a few residents. YEY. Then we started heading to this construction site. It’s right on the side of a kind of busy road, but before the houses. We dodged a few cars, messed around at the site and we also swiped some signs from this fence that was put up around the soon-to-be-foundation of whatever is being built. The signs read "RENT-A-FENCE" and had some 1 800 number on them. So we got some very nice souvoneers (spelled close enuf) from that place.
Then, as KIBBz and VoDkA were down in the foundation hole and I was up on top, a cop drove by. We had enough time to see it, take cover, and watch it go by, so it didn't get us by surprise. But once we saw it was a cop we decided it was time to farming LEAVE. He didn't stop, he drove right by, but @#%$ he mighta been looking for us. So we got out of the fence, grabbed our signs and went to the neighborhood again. We didn't have that much trouble getting back home, just some dogs and @#%$. Once we got in, we were tired as a priest after a 5 hour orgy. The total mission took about 3 hours. We left around 12:30 and got back around 3-3:30. We are not very sure but it lasted a while. And damit, it was well worth it. We needed that mission too, we were all pretty tired of waiting and our nerves were just about shot. So it was perdy relaxing to be free like that.
[CONTENT MISSING]
{mission unnumbered} [CONTENT MISSING]
NEXT MISSION=aaaan whenever
Ok people, I’m gonna let you in on the big secret of our clan. We aint no god damn stupid ass quake clan! We are more of a gang. We plan out and execute missions. Anyone pisses us off, we do a little deed to their house. Eggs, teepee, superglue, busyboxes, large amounts of fireworks, you name it and we will probably or already have done it. We have many enemies in our school, therefore we make many missions. It’s sort of a night time tradition for us.
It’s a very close replica of the missions sites. But we have never seen the inside of the house…so we just guessed. It’s also cut off where the area isn't important (ya know I didn't want to put in all of the neighborhood!).
The mission has been done. And the rebels…once again… emerged victorious. Vee falking blew de sheeeit outta lossa stoof!!
As for the next mission, we haven't decided what to do or where to do it. I had some thoughts about hiding in some large bushes and shooting stuff. Or maybe some more aerial attacks. But we need to go up to Wyoming and load up on that stuff. We are running low. Plus we just got our paychecks….they aren't big…but they can cover quite a bit of shit. We still need to get the fuses too. So far, the next mission will probly be in July sometime. But we AINT SURE.
[CONTENT MISSING]
#tc community#tcc tumblr#tccblr#teeceecee#tcc fandom#truecrimecommunity#eric and dylan#columbine 1999#true cringe community#tcc columbine#dylan columbine#columbine massacr#eric columbine#columbine massacre#tcctwt#eric harris#dylan klebold#vodka and reb#rebandvodka#reb#vodka#mass shootings tw#mass shooters#info post#dollielliot 💥💣
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So the William/Olympics/COVID post struck a nerve. I expected that, but some of the asks are getting viscious so I won't be posting any of that. These are my final comments/responses to the overnight asks.
1. COVID is still really very much a thing. It matters more to some people. It matters less to others. Everyone gets to decide for themselves how to protect themselves and handle it.
2. You can have different risk tolerances for different situations and can change your COVID (or flu or personal security or whatever-it-is-you're-worried-about) awareness/preparedness accordingly. It doesn't make you any less concerned about COVID.
3. Most people don't care how many times you've had COVID and nothing happened. But scientists and physicians do. So tell them all about your COVID experience by joining one of the many scientific studies about COVID. Here's one from Johns Hopkins to get you started. There are others that might even pay you (but you'll have to do your own homework to find those studies).
4. You cannot put out a fire when your water tank has no water, which means there are times when you have to leave the scene to get more water. To put it another way, you cannot take care of your loved ones if you do not take care of yourself as well. William going to football games with his friends and a concert with his elder kids is self care. He needs time to relax so he can fill up his "caretaker" tank to keep supporting Kate, the same way firefighters have to go back to the firestation to fill their tank engines with water and prepare for the next emergency.
5. I think William really did genuinely want to go to the Olympics and had plans to go. Here's the timeline:
Friday, July 26: Paris Olympics Opening Ceremony
Monday, July 29: Adam Peaty tested positive for COVID.
Wednesday, July 31: Daily Express reports that William plans to take George and Charlotte to the Olympics "next week."
Friday, August 2: It's reported that William, George, and Charlotte will attend the Olympics on August 5th. (I can't find the source; either I don't have the right person or the stories have been taken down.)
Saturday, August 3: Peaty is out of isolation and back in the pool.
Monday, August 5: Waleses aren't at the Olympics.
Thursday, October 3: William says that he planned to go to the Olympics until Peaty, a swimmer, tested positive and then he cancelled the plans.
This is all 100% speculation but what I think happened is the Waleses made plans to go, then Peaty tested positive, they remembered COVID was an issue, and Kate backed out but left it up William whether he'd still go. It leaked* and ultimately William decided not to go.
*I'm on the fence about whether this was a genuine leak or a trial balloon. I lean towards "leak" because William doesn't do trial balloons (that's more of a Charles tactic).
6. Kate has never needed or wanted William or KP staff to protect her from media or public criticism. Refusing to let her husband protect her from criticism is not the same thing as William throwing her under the bus to absolve himself of criticism.
7. Criticize William for using COVID as the excuse because he hasn't talked about it since 2021. Don't criticize him for using his wife's health as the excuse because that's...incredibly normal. Who here hasn't used a family member to get out of an invitation or an obligation? If you've done it yourself, or you've let others use you as their excuse, you have no place to be upset when the royals do it too.
(also, William using his wife's health to not work is nowhere close to the perverse depravity that Diddy's parties were. It's not even in the same universe. That anon can rudely stfu before I block them.)
sorry guys. this was longer than I thought it'd be. Happy Saturday!
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