#oc: sammi woods
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cautiontapeandthecrimescene · 6 months ago
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“Caution Tape & The Crime Scene” Members
(tw: death)
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Carlton Tarnish/Caution Tape:
Pronouns - He/him, That/Thats
Appearance - short ginger hair with parted and frayed bangs; green eyes; tan freckled skin; medium build with a bit of softness around the middle. often wears merch of his own band.
Role In Band - lead singer
Likes - music, especially the rock genre; hanging out with his band; animals
Dislikes - betrayal; being late; authority figures
Additional Info - he has always been passionate about music, but his father- a Bobby -tried to smother that interest. clearly, that didn't work.
that died due to Broken Heart Syndrome.
Brick Forester/Blunt Force:
Pronouns - He/him, they/them
Appearance - long, dark-brown hair tipped with green and purple, typically tied into a ponytail; deep brown eyes (usually covered by his long bangs); medium-brown skin; muscular build. usually wears a denim jacket over a cut-up shirt.
Role In Band - drummer
Likes - music, animals, reading, working out
Dislikes - authority figures (especially cops and psychiatrists); people who assume things about him and his band
Additional Info - he's usually quiet around strangers, but opens up around his band. he exercises a lot to be able to stay in shape and be able to carry his drum set around easily.
they died to blunt force trauma.
Rover Crossroads/Rotty Corpse:
Pronouns - It/its, he/him
Appearance - short, somewhat messy brassy hair; brown eyes; tan skin (slightly darker than Carlton's); short and slightly chubby build. usually wears biffed-up jeans and a tee shirt with the sleeves cut off.
Role In Band - guitarist
Likes - music; tuning his guitar; writing letters
Dislikes - being ignored; lying; sharp objects; authority figures of any kind (except his band's leader, Carlton)
Additional Info - it has a major fear of dying, but being around its band members and calling himself after something he never wants to become has helped him feel less afraid.
it eventually gets lobotomized.
Samuel Woods/Stab Wound:
Pronouns - He/him, she/her
Appearance - black, partially-shaved hair with long side-swept bangs; eye color unknown (wears colored contacts); pale skin; thin, lanky build. usually wears a black tee shirt and lots of bracelets.
Role In Band - keyboarder
Likes - music, dancing, dressing up
Dislikes - authority figures; getting hurt; making mistakes; his eye color
Additional Info - she feels very insecure about her eyes, as she worries how she'll be perceived if she doesn't wear her colored contacts. her favorite of the colors she wears is purple.
she was found stabbed to death in an alley.
Graham Popper/Guilty Party:
Pronouns: He/him, or none
Appearance - curly chin-length, silver-streaked brown hair; brown eyes; speckled warm-toned skin; broad-shouldered. usually wears old rock-n-roll type clothes from the 30s (they were his father's).
Role In Band - secondary singer
Likes - music; spending time in the sun; reading; writing
Dislikes - authority figures (especially the Constabulary); stress; sunburns; being falsely accused of things because of his stage name
Additional Info - the oldest of the group. the grey streaks in his hair are from the stressful environment he grew up in. on more than one occasion, he's been falsely accused of committing crimes just because he calls himself "Guilty Party". believes in a better future.
was found dead with "martyr" written on his forehead.
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discordix1031 · 26 days ago
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A Cryptid Legend 📜. / Happy Halloween 🎃 💀 👻!
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Happy Halloween everyone! Spooky seasons biggest holiday has finally arrived, and once more, we have some of the big bads of the internet, movie, crypto, and game world. These characters are very well known and have prepared to make this one of the scariest nights this year ✨! Once a year on this very night, monsters are free to roam our world in plain sight and none know where they are, or who their stalking. When that happens, Ghost's book and mark glow as a way to alert them that the monster of the shadows are free. Nobody really knows why it glows the way it does, only one truly knew the answer to that, one who is no more. Maybe one day, the secrets of the book will be revealed to its new keeper, hopefully sooner than later.
Individual pictures down here 😊. ↓
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Happy Haunting! 🎃 👻 💀 😶‍🌫️ - Monsters of the shadows.
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coyotemasquerade · 3 months ago
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camping memory 🏳️‍🌈✨
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loosee-goosey · 10 months ago
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blood oath
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seenoversundown · 10 months ago
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Succulent
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Sam x Fem OC
Warnings: 18+ Smut (Minors DNI) Praise Kink, Edging, mentions of Choking (very mild) Dom Sam, Oral (F & M receiving) Fingering, Penetrative sex, Cockwarming, Degradation in the form of condescension, Spanking (if you squint) , and finally some fluff.
Word Count: 6.3k
Author's Note: Just a little treat for you hehe 🤭 Enjoy!
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Succulent (adjective) (of food) tender, juicy, and tasty
Birdie POV
“I’m so excited.” I’m giddy with anticipation in the front seat of Sam’s new truck, a Toyota Tundra he named ‘Mr. Big’ after the character in Zootopia. He tried to stick it out as long as he could with Edith, poor guy, but she gave up all on her own. Though I have to say, I much preferred Edith over Mr. Big. I think I just get nostalgic for all the adventures we took with her. 
The three hour journey has been a lengthy one, but with the long winding road coming into view, I know we're close. I’ve never been to Stowe, Vermont before but I know it's a popular vacation spot. Vermont lends a same outdoorsy feel as home while not being too far away, the perfect getaway spot. Sam reaches a hand across the console and takes mine in his, my heart squeezing along with the pressure of his fingers. I can’t help but stare at him. We’ve made it so far over the last, almost two years. Learning so much from each other, testing each other, pushing each other. God, we’re so ingrained in the very make-up of each other at this point I forget we haven’t even celebrated our second anniversary yet.
“I think this is it.”
We pull into a long driveway and up to a gorgeous natural wood cabin with a two-car garage. There are windows on either side of the chimney who’s brick is exposed to the outside, oh there’s a fireplace, and a porch that runs the length of the house. Fresh snow adorns the large yard, and I just know that the view from the inside is going to be so beautiful in the morning. 
“Oh, Sammy. This is incredible!” I exclaim. I scoot to the edge of my seat, trying to get a better view. 
“Wait til you see the inside, there’s 3 bedrooms and a sauna,” shooting me a wink before putting the truck in park. 
“A sauna, huh?” I lean an elbow on the center console and pull him in for a slow kiss by the front of his jacket. “I’m definitely getting some use out of that.” I press another quick kiss to his lips before I unbuckle my seatbelt. Sam slides out of the truck and grabs our bags from the back seat, tossing both backpacks, one on top of each other, over his shoulder. I exit the truck and meet him around the front; he pulls me close to his chest, both of us trying to preserve a bit of warmth now that the biting winter air has surrounded us. 
“It’s ours for the whole week,” he whispers into my hair, pressing his lips to my temple. “Just the two of us.”
“Let’s go, let’s go!” I head toward the entryway pulling him by the arm. 
Once the door is closed, we take a left through the tiny hallway, the same natural wood as the outside covering the walls. Sam sets down our bags, sticking his head in each door, trying to get a feel for the place. 
“These are the spares and the main floor bathroom. The Master bed is upstairs and has a loft area I think.” He takes my hand again, his hand warm around my chilly one. I’m forever thankful that he’s a very hot-blooded individual. “Yeah, it’s through here.”
We walk past a set of stairs on the left and the kitchen on the right. I can feel the enthusiasm radiating off of him like a solar flare as he tries to scope out each corner before I get a chance to catch up to him. 
“Look at the view, Birdie!” he beams, eyes bright and arms wide open. “There’s a breakfast bar for our mornings and the fireplace to keep us toasty, though I’m not sure we’ll need help in that department.” He points around the living room. I keep a comment about the terrifying bear skin located above said fireplace to myself. 
“I definitely don’t, I have you to keep me warm.” I meet him in the middle of the floor and slide my arms around his middle, locking my hands behind his back. He rubs at my shoulders. “That’s right,” he says, placing an innocent kiss to my nose. “But we’re still going to use it.” We pull apart from each other so he can continue the tour despite both of us never having been here before. 
“I would never rob you of such a joy then. Proceed, kind sir.” I tease in a slight British accent, making a small bow. When we reach the top of the stairs we come to the small loft area, complete with a lovely day bed by a window that the sun peaks through. We step forward through the set of doors, passing the bathroom, and into the Master bedroom. 
“This.. is the master bedroom. But the best part,” he doubles back to the bathroom, opening the door wide and stepping inside to make room for me to follow.
 “The sauna is in our bathroom.” My eyes light up. He hums out an encouragement, tugging me back into his body by my wrist. I hit him with a light thud. 
“I can’t wait to fuck you in there.” He growls lowly into my ear. My breath hitches in my throat, and immediately, my cheeks start to flush. His words hit me entirely to my core, and I resist the urge to press my legs together for relief. I wouldn’t dare give him the satisfaction of knowing he's gotten to me this early in the trip, not when we have a whole week ahead of us. 
“So what’s on the itinerary for tonight then?” I inquire, head tilted up so I can stare into his chestnut eyes. 
“I’m so glad you asked my little bird.” He takes my hand in his, once again leading me toward the living room. “Once I grab the cooler from Mr. Big, I’ll pour you a glass of wine, and you can get relaxed, while I cook dinner. We can set up by the fire and eat on the floor like all romantic movies do in log cabins in the woods.” He brushes the hair out of his face and chuckles a bit. “I even packed that nice fuzzy blanket you love so much. It’ll be like our own romantic indoor picnic,” he continues.
“Wow, Sammy. You thought of everything, didn't you.” A swell of pride thrums through my chest. 
Something I’ve learned over my time with Sam is that he always means well, even if his execution isn’t the best. And trust me, there have been some poor executions. Each mishap more endearing than the last, but this time, it really seems like he’s gotten the hang of the romance thing. 
“Gunna be honest with you. I asked every single one of my brothers for advice and did a lot of studying.” he huffs out a slightly uncomfortable laugh and scratches at the back of his neck. 
“Studying? What does studying mean?” I giggle. 
“Well, your job has sent you on a couple trips this last month. I didn’t know what to do with myself. Daniel has his hands full with the girls, Josh and Jake are always busy. Bar stuff or whatever.” He shifts awkwardly between his feet. “I just.. watched a lot of romcoms and romance movies. Ya know, the kind you always like to watch.” he does a little double snap clap with his hands. 
I bark out a loud laugh and clutch my tummy. Oh, I love him. 
“Hey!” he says a bit defensively.
“I’m not laughing AT you, Babe. I promise. That’s just the cutest fucking thing you’ve ever said to me. C’mere,” I hold my arms out for him to fit between. “Thank you. This week is going to be perfect no matter what. But the effort you’re making means the most to me, you know that.” I hug him tightly, hoping to convey just how appreciative I am. 
No one has ever loved me the way he has. His love is messy and goofy. His love is filled with laughter and childlike wonder.  Adventure and weekend trips. Nights snuggled on the couch and days when we don’t leave bed. Kisses peppered on cheeks and hips gripped mean. Arguments that end wrapped around each other because despite falling madly in love, we still try to get under each other's skin for fun. He has my entire heart, and I can’t bear the thought of my life being any other way. 
“Now go get that cooler,” I slap his butt lightly. “I’m ready for some wine.”
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As I sip my wine and warm my toes by the fire, I look over my shoulder at Sam who’s slaving away in the kitchen. 
“Do I get a hint?” I call over to him. He looks so cute, a dish rag slung over his shoulder, face knit in concentration. The cream cable-knit sweater he dons was a personal request of mine. He agreed on the pretense that I would wear the red sweater he loves so much. At least we’re on theme for the holiday. 
“No,” he says plainly, clearly focused. 
“Oh, that’s no fun.” I turn and kneel backward on the couch, giving him my best pout, trying to distract him. His eyes dart to me before falling back to his work, he smiles wide. 
“You’re cheating. You know I can’t resist that face.” He steals another glance at me. 
“I’m doing no such thing.” I protest. “I am simply inquiring about what my boyfriend is making me to eat.” I hop off the couch, setting my glass on the coffee table. I meet him in the kitchen, sneaking my arms around his waist and firmly planting my cheek against his back. He moves a little slower with me clinging to him but he doesn’t shoo me away, just lightly pats my wrist with one of his hands and continues to work. I take in a deep breath, inhaling the aromas from the meal. 
“It smells good, babe.” I hop onto the free bit of counter beside him. He puts the lid back on the pan and turns his attention to me. 
“It needs to simmer for a few minutes.” He winks at me, delicately fitting between my legs, his hands sliding up the fabric of my leggings before settling on my hips. I giggle, and he scoots me to the edge, bringing me closer to his body. I place my hands on the nape of his neck, sliding my fingers through the hair he’s messily tucked into a bun. I tug gently, and his mouth opens, and eyes close. Why does he have to be so pretty? It's moments when he looks like this that I wish I could take photos with my mind. What I wouldn’t give to take that photo out on a rainy day…
I lean in and close the gap between us, our lips meeting in a sweet kiss. Not urgent or needy. The kind of kiss where you simply tell each other how full your heart is. 
He hums against my mouth. “Mm, if you distract me, I’ll burn the food.”
I pepper kisses along his cheek and jaw, and he reaches over to tend to the pan. “Can you please gimme a hint?”
“And ruin the surprise?” His arm moves, stirring whatever he’s making with a wooden spoon. As easy as it would be for me to just look over, I'm too distracted by nibbling at his ear to bother trying to sneak a peek. 
“Come on, baby,” I whisper seductively in his ear. I plant a kiss on any expanse of skin I reach, repeating the word please over and over again until… He gives in. I feel his throat swallow beneath my touch.
“Remember the first time we went out together?” He gently clears his throat.
“On our first date? Yeah, you took–”
“No, the first time we ate together at a restaurant. Where we went.” he cuts me off. I can see the amusement settle on his face as he sees me try to look through the filing cabinet in my brain. 
Oh. 
“You took me to the cheese place.” I tuck my hair behind my ear.
“Yeah, the cheese place.” He laughs. “You ordered the mushroom risotto, and you loved it. I figured since we haven’t actually been back..” he trails off.
I leave him to finish cooking, suddenly very excited for our meal now that I know what we’re having. Instead, I rearrange the living room to make a spot for us to eat. I move the coffee table off to the side, freeing up the space in front of the fireplace. Digging through the other bag Sam packed for us, and finding my favorite cream colored fuzzy throw blanket. Big enough for all nearly six feet of him and myself to fit under when we cuddle on the couch. I grab the coasters for our drinks, setting them on the hearth, and plop a couple pillows for us to sit on. Mostly for me because I apparently have a ‘bony ass,’ according to him. By the time that I’ve got everything settled Sam is walking through the living room with two bowls, one in each hand. He sets them on the hearth, grabbing my glass and running off to the kitchen for a refill. 
“Here you go, Birdie,” he says, handing me my glass and sitting down in front of me.
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“God, that was so good.” I rub at my tummy. He smiles at me over the top of his glass as he sips his wine. “This has been a really good start to our mini vacation.” A much needed vacation if I’m being honest. I feel like I’ve hardly spent any time with him this month. He reaches out, placing his palm on my cheek. Stroking his thumb along my cheekbone. 
“I’m glad you’re happy, baby.” He says sweetly. And I am. So fucking happy I didn’t think it was possible. I adjust on my pillow, kicking my legs out in front of me and rubbing my feet against his legs. His hand finds my ankle rubbing smooth circles on the tiny patch of skin he finds. 
“I hope you saved room for dessert.” He says, his fingers delicately sliding up my leg. 
“There’s dessert? Why didn’t you tell me that before.” I set my glass down on the hearth and scoot closer to him. His fingertips slide up the inside of my thigh. 
“Of course, there’s dessert. You think I’d make you a lovely dinner and not have dessert too?” He teases, his fingers dangerously close to my core. I smile in satisfaction, his hands feeling too good as they dance over me. He pulls me in for a short kiss. “I really think you’re gonna love what I have planned.”
“Is that so?” 
“Mhmm.” His fingers find the hem of my sweater, and he pulls it over my head. Revealing the dusty pink floral lace bra I’m wearing. He stares at me for a moment. Taking me in. 
“Lie back, babygirl,” he instructs, using a nickname he’s reserved only for intimacy. I do as I’m told, as all good girls do, and connect with the plush blanket laid beneath us. I can still feel the warmth of the fire heating my left side, though after time spent for dinner, it has dimmed a bit. Like our own personal, romantic light setting. I stretch my arms out above my head and close my eyes, waiting. He grabs the waistband of my leggings, tugging them down my legs and tossing it to the side. 
“God, you look good enough to eat.” He spreads my legs and sits on his knees between mine. “But you know that, don’t you?” I can feel his eyes of admiration on me. Like an invisible touch skimming down my body over every curve and divot. I anticipate his touch, resisting the urge to open my eyes. I try to guess where his hands will land when he does finally decide to reach out and touch me. Sam loves the game, though, the cat and mouse before the main act. And the cocky tone of his voice gets me going every time. 
“Words, Baby.” He demands. The rush of pressure I feel between my legs at that moment is my favorite part of being with Sam. My heart pounds in my ribcage.
“Yes.” I squeak out. “I wanted to look good for you.” Every second he delays touching me my breath quickens. The sound of his pants against the blanket causes my stomach to flip. The cool air coming with whatever movement he’s making sends a chill down my spine, and goosebumps to appear on my skin. I hear the soft thud of what I hope is his sweater. Please be shirtless, please be shirtless. Even after all this time, the sight of him still makes me salivate.
A delicate hand caresses my thigh, and I twitch slightly at the unexpected touch. 
“You did such a good job for me.” His sweet praise is music to my ears as his fingers glide toward my hip. “Look at you, so beautiful and laid out for me. Ready for me to take when I want.” He squeezes gently when he reaches his destination, and the cocky laugh that follows sends a flood of arousal to my core. 
“Are you gonna be a good girl and listen to me tonight?” I smile ear to ear and nod emphatically. 
“Good.” He continues. He catches the hem of my panties with his pointer finger and follows along the edge of the blush-pink colored lace. When he reaches where I most desire him, he puts pressure along my pussy with the back of his finger and then snaps the fabric. The sharp sting is welcomed, but the absence of his touch makes me whine audibly. 
He places each hand on the floor next to my shoulders, hovering over me. As he runs his nose up the length of my neck, he opens his mouth to breathe hot air in its wake.  “So needy already?” He asks when he reaches my ear. “But I’ve barely touched you.”
“Please,” I beg. Knowing it’s what he wants to hear, but not holding out hope for my favor. 
“Please, what, baby?” The husky tone of his voice sends a chill down my spine. He reaches his tongue out and flicks at my earlobe.
“Fuck me. Please.” My face scrunches in another desperate whine.
He tuts quietly, “I’m only getting started, baby.” 
I know as soon as the words leave his lips that I’m in for a long night. A slow form of torture that I’ll be thankful for come the morning.
He pushes himself up and sits back on his heels. He taps my hip, signaling me to raise them, and he hooks his fingers under the lace of my underwear, sliding it down the length of my legs, discarding the material next to his shirt. Placing both hands on each respective knee, he spreads me wide, and his mouth drops open at the sight of me. My eyes fall to his plush, rosy lips.
“Mmm,” he hums, running his tongue along his top lip. “Good enough to eat, indeed.”
Sam settles on his stomach, his left arm hooking around my leg. I hum at the heated contact of his palm, splayed across my lower abdomen. I can feel the cool air hit my dripping pussy as he takes slow breaths, plotting my demise. He lets out another arrogant laugh, no doubt satisfied at how I glisten by the firelight. 
He rests his head against my thigh, now purposeful with the air he blows on me. I shudder a little, letting out a tiny gasp of air. The throbbing between my legs is so intense I can practically feel it in my throat. I swallow thickly. His free hand dances up the inside of the thigh he’s not resting against, his mouth open with a slight smile. Oh the fun he’s having, like I’m his own personal plaything. I would do anything to make him happy if it meant I experience this continued arousal. He tickles back and forth over the crease of my groin. So close and yet just far enough away from where I want him. No, where I need him. I bite my lip to try and center myself. 
He finally makes contact with me, dragging his middle finger tantalizingly slow down the center of my pussy. My teeth sink into my lip so hard I nearly draw blood when the pressure reaches my clit; he continues until he meets where my wetness is pooling for him. He takes a moment to thoroughly coat the tip of his finger before he pops it into his mouth, savoring the taste of me.
“You’re so wet for me, sweetheart. And you taste so fucking good. How did that happen?” He teases, but I don’t laugh. He reaches down, slowly inserting his first two fingers, but he doesn’t move them. 
His teasing is so torturous I cry out. The thrum of my heart beats around his fingers, and I clench, trying to coax him into movement. I should know better.
“I know, baby girl, I know. You’re going to listen to me, though, and you’ll get what you want.” He places a gentle kiss on my thigh, “I’ll give you everything you want.”
I shake my head, feeling around for the blanket to bunch in my palms, giving my hands something to do. 
“I’ve been thinking about dessert since we left, and I already know how sweet it is.” Sam continues his kisses, descending to my pussy. “I’m hungry, I think it’s time for a treat. I want you to relax for me, babygirl.” Everything his mouth is doing effectively distracts me from the fingers remaining stilled inside me. 
He places a gentle kiss to the top of my slit and begins his assault. Finally, he licks up the center of me, flicking my clit with just the tip of his tongue. I moan at the contact, all that build-up finally paying off. I squeeze around his fingers, attempting to speed up the race to the finish line..
And he stops. 
I whine at the loss of contact.
There’s always a game. 
I look down at his wicked grin. “I told you to relax, babygirl.” His playful tone is as arrogant as ever. “You’re my good girl, aren’t you?” His brow furrows with his question, and his lips shine with the evidence of me. 
I nod slowly. 
“Good girls listen.” One eyebrow cocks toward his hairline. “Let’s try again.” 
Sam’s mouth is on me again, and I try to concentrate on breathing instead of the steady attack of his tongue against my clit. In fast, short licks, he slowly drives me to insanity. The heat of pleasure radiates over my body, a hot pulse running through me in waves. I will myself to calm down every time I start to tighten my walls, attempting to breathe and focus on something else, anything else. But the force of his tongue lapping at me is overriding my brain, and I can’t help myself. I clench hard in search of release, pulling the blanket clutched in my hands toward my chest for leverage in my chase. 
He stops once more. 
I groan out angrily and lay myself flat, resuming my original position.
“So needy and so pathetic. You can’t even handle it, can you?” 
When I don’t respond, he strokes his fingers inside me a few times, suddenly remembering their place inside me. I jolt up to my elbows, tightening my fists around the blanket I still clutch. The shock of a moment of pleasure settling in my stomach before dissipating. 
“You know I love to hear your pretty little voice, baby. Come on, use your words for me.”
I swallow before I beg for any amount of relief. “Please, Sammy. Please.” 
He slides his left hand up my stomach, a gentle push signaling me to lie back.
“When you learn to relax, you’ll be rewarded. The only thing standing in the way of that right now is you.”
This time, the forefinger and thumb come down and spread my lips open, exposing me to him fully.
“Come on, baby, I know you can do it.” He coaxes gently. He’s careful not to make contact with any other part of me, so the only thing I can feel is the tip of his tongue on my increasingly sensitive nub. Little beads of sweat start to collect around the nape of my neck from the struggle of self-control. The pleasure is so intense I fear I won’t be able to think straight for a week when I finally reach my release. My pussy starts to flutter gently around his fingers again; every time I twitch, I relax the muscles as best I can. 
“That’s it, baby.” He comes up for air long enough to utter his praise, and he’s descending again. Somehow the momentary break increases the tension slowly building in me. 
I tighten once more at his words and relax just as fast. I bite out quickly, “Don’t stop Sammy, please. I can do it.. I can do it.” my voice trails off. I work evening breath enough to let my orgasm ascend on its own without the encouragement of actions. 
He pulls back the hood of my clit with his thumb, and that’s the moment I begin to unravel completely. I yell out as I fight against my body's own natural instincts and the pleasure of it all; he continues the onslaught against my bundle of nerves, using the arm hooked around my leg to keep me in place. I writhe underneath his grasp as the tension finally snaps, my body going numb as my orgasm finally washes over every bit of me. My head clouds, and my body feels like it's floating. I immediately contract, my hands finding purchase in his hair, pulling tightly as the stimulation becomes too much. He moans against my pussy, causing me to jerk again. My voice echoes through the large living room. I reach my left hand out, meeting the brick of the hearth, trying to steady myself. He slows his movements, easing me out but still causing small ripples of pleasure with every affectionate lick and kiss of my pussy. I brush the tendrils sticking to my forehead out of my face and breathe a sigh of relief. 
“Good girls who listen get rewarded.” He says smugly, licking at his lips covered in my orgasm. He looks so sexy, god. I lunge at him, tackling him to his back. Landing in a hard thud against the soft blanket, I kiss him, needy and desperate. A surge of energy running through me from the adrenaline, followed by a wave of arousal as I taste myself on his lips. 
“You sound so sexy when you cum.” He says between my efforts to lap up every last remaining bit of myself still lingering on his mouth. “I’d put that on a loop for hours if I could.”
I cry out, “Oh god.” I start a path of kisses from his neck down his chest as he continues.
“Yeah? You like the idea of me listening to you cum over.. And over again? A little audio stored in my phone for me to listen to while I’m out?” 
I nod furiously against his soft stomach, the tiniest bit salty from the sweat we’ve worked up. I run my hand down over the front of his black sweats, feeling his length beneath my fingers.
“While I’m buying groceries?” I nod again; his fingers tangle themselves in my hair. 
“On my drive to work?” I nod once more, whining at his words. The sound of relief from his lips was enough to send my head spinning. He tugs at my roots just enough to hurt but still feel amazing. I work my way to the waistband of his joggers; I tug gently, exposing his hard length.
“No boxers?” I question teasingly. “Scandalous.” I laugh and press one last kiss to his stomach, taking a hold of him in my delicate hand. 
“Mmm.” He tilts his head back as my fingers run over him. “Your turn for dessert, baby. Open.” He demands, and I obey. I open wide and stick my tongue out, waiting for him. He takes full advantage of that by pulling the hair clutched in his hand and guiding me to his cock. I wrap my lips around him; the sound of his pleasure is music to my ears. I move in quick, even motions up and down his shaft, my hand making up for the part of him I can’t swallow. Paying attention to every upstroke, I flick my tongue around the head. One of his hands makes its way to my cheek, gently stroking it with his thumb. 
“Just like that, fuck.” He moans, gripping my hair tighter and tighter, spurring me on. I bob my head faster as encouragement falls freely from his lips. My arousal pooling and dripping down my leg with every sound spilling from his mouth. God, the mouth on him. 
“You’re doing so good for me.” His hips start to jut, matching the movements of my mouth. Hands locked in my hair, he pulls my face to his base, pausing for a moment.
“Fuck.” he cries out and releases his grip. I come up for air, a trail of spit still linking us together as I catch my breath. My lungs working overdrive to make up for the loss of oxygen.
“I could fuck that mouth forever.” He says, and I let out a desperate whine.
“So do it.” 
I clamor my way back to his cock, desperately needing to taste him on my tongue again. I flatten my tongue and lick from base to tip and then wrap my lips around him. I lock eyes with him as I focus on the head, knowing how sensitive he is there. 
Sam’s nostrils flare, and he grunts out. The switch flipping in him that I needed. He’s always in control, but every once in a while, his feral side comes out. The uninhibited Sam that fucks me hard and rough, and god, if I don’t fucking need him right now. 
He sits up on his knees, kneeling before me. Yanking his sweatpants further down to his thighs, and grabs me, one hand planted on either side of my face, and bites out, “Open.” 
His cock slides into my mouth, his full length against my tongue, and he repeatedly meets the back of my throat. He shows me no mercy. His hands and hips taking control and working overdrive so I just sit there and take it. I gladly take everything that he gives me. Over and over again, my lips meet his pubic bone as he fucks my mouth. I reach for leverage, grabbing a hold of where his pants sit around his thighs. The repetition of ‘fuck’ that leaves his lips, calling my attention back to his face. His eyes bore into mine, and he pulls me off his dick. He lets out a yell of frustration; I know he’s holding back. Trying not to cum down my throat because the only place he cums is inside of me. ‘You’re mine, Birdie,’ he always tells me. 
“Hands.” He points to the hearth, and I hustle on my knees to place my palms on the warm stone. He unhooks my bra, somehow the only piece of my clothing left remaining. I bend over, sticking my ass out, waiting for his return. I peek over my shoulder, sneaking a glance at him as he shimmies out of his sweats. He kneels behind me and gently runs his hand over my ass, up my back, and settling on my shoulder. He pulls me to his chest. 
“Ready, babygirl,” he asks as he slides his hand around my throat, gripping gently, and I nod in response. His other hand curves around my body, grasping my breast in his palm. He gives it a rough squeeze before pinching my nipple. I suck in a breath through my teeth. 
“Good.” he lets out a little chuckle and soothes my bud between his fingers, gently rolling out the pain. His fingers glide delicately down my torso, and he cups my heat.
 “I’m gunna fuck this pretty cunt so good.” My mouth falls open, my head leaning back. Just as my head meets his shoulder, relaxing into his touch, he pushes me forward back to my hands. 
He notches his cock at my opening, both hands bracing me by the hips, and slowly enters me. I moan out at the pleasure of him slowly stretching me, and I silently thank god for the fact that we are isolated out here. I couldn’t be quiet even if I tried. 
The push and pull of his cock with each slow thrust softly warming me. I tilt my head back in pleasure as he starts to work up a rhythm. He delivers a hard smack against my ass, and I grip the stone hearth tighter, feeling the roughness under my palms. His hand rubbing at my cheek, soothing the sting. 
“You feel so fucking good.” Sam’s breathy tone giving him away. “So tight. You love the way my cock fills you up, don’t you?” I push back to meet his thrusts, hoping to get him there quicker, the desire to give him all the pleasure he gave me earlier, overcoming my need for anything else. 
“Yeah, you do. Look at you? So desperate. I bet if stopped moving, you’d fuck yourself right on my cock, huh?” 
His hand grips my hip tightly, and he pulls me back by my hair. His hand resuming his place around my neck, tightening his grip ever so slightly. Just enough to notice but not enough to restrict my oxygen. His other arm wraps around my middle steadying me for continued thrusts of his hips.
“You have no idea how badly I want that, babygirl. But I’m having too much fun listening to the sounds you make as I fuck you.” He lets out a wicked laugh. 
My jaw goes slack, and I bend my body more, allowing him deeper access with every thrust.  The new angle driving him into my G-spot, sending me reeling. The intensity builds in my stomach and I know Sam can feel it too. I reach a hand back tangling my hand in the hair gathered at his neck. He slides down, parting my lips and toying with my clit. Small tight circles coax me toward my end. Little by little, unraveling under his fingertips. I clench around his cock, and he knows I’m done for. 
“Come on, baby. Give it to me.” The sickly sweet tone of his voice in my ear sends a chill down my spine. I fight against the building pleasure, trying to hold out. My voice carries through the room, mixing with his heavy breath and the sound of our hips snapping together. Everything starts to become too much, and my muscles weaken; my hand falls to join his arm wrapped around me. Sam holds me tighter, keeping me steady against his chest. 
“That’s it, baby. Cum on my cock. Do it.” I let go completely, falling over the edge and succumbing to the pleasure of Sam’s cock. I moan out a broken repetition of his name, and he fucks me through my orgasm. I feel so full when he’s inside me like I never want to be anywhere else. He slows his hips, allowing me a moment of reprieve. Our heavy breaths move in unison as we try to calm ourselves. He lays me gently back on my stomach, careful to stay tucked inside. My head resting against the pillow I was sitting on earlier, my skin soothed by the plush blanket. He joins me where I lay, resting half of his weight on me.
“Oh god. Sammy.” I cry out at the feeling of his cock inside my overstimulated cunt as he pulls out to the tip and slides back in again. My hand finds his thigh, nails digging into his skin, and he grunts out. He takes that as a sign to resume full force. His thrusts are hard and fast. Working himself up to meet his own end. His heady breaths against my ear could drive me to another orgasm if my body was capable. 
“Oh fuck,” he growls. “I’m gonna cum.” his hips speed up, his pace unforgiving as his own release is in his sights. He holds his breath, and I brace myself, his hips snapping once more and pausing. Buried in me to the hilt, I feel his dick twitch with each spurt of release inside me. We let out a mutual ‘fuck’ as he releases. He teases himself slightly with gentle motions, slowly in and out of my pussy. His cum starts to leak out of me, landing on the blanket below. 
When I feel him start to pull out of me fully I beg, “No, no, no. Please.”
“What baby?” He asks, confused.
“Stay. You feel too good.” I whine pathetically. He slides fully off my body to his side, sneaking his arm under my head and pulling me close, spooning me. His cock still tucked pleasantly inside of me. 
“Is my little bird gonna warm my cock for me? Huh?” 
I hum out an affirmation. “I really fucking needed that.” 
“Yeah? You ready for that sauna yet?” He jests. “Little round two in there?” His hand makes its way to my breast, gently rolling my nipple between his thumb and forefinger.
I laugh and snuggle in closer to him. “Thinkin’ about it.”
Need more Sam in your life? 🩷
Sparrow Of The Dawn Masterpost 🤭
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gretavanmoon · 5 months ago
Text
Caught in a Daze
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Spinning Now: "Ex" by Aer (2014) (and a little bit of "Wonderin' Why")
Pairing: Sam x OC
Word Count: 12.2k
Warnings: Drinking, Cursing, Manipulation, Cheating, Sadness, Bad Coping Mechanisms, Hella Angst
Smut including: Kissing, Touching, Oral F!Receiving, Fingering, Unprotected Sex, Reluctant Dominance if you squint
+ So these songs aren't ones that were suggested by you guys, but Aer has always been one of my favorite groups, and these two songs have kind of always gone hand in hand for a little storyline playing out in my head. Not much thought went into this, but sad surfer boy Sam just felt too appealing to pass up lol. Give them a listen if you don't know them, they'll make you want to live in a little beach town with nothing better to do than skate & surf <33
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A glance to your watch lets you know it's nearing eleven, but the bloom of warmth in your chest from your scotch on the rocks is making you forget about your impending 9AM clock-in. The bartender, Marcus, raises an eyebrow at you as you slide the empty glass his way, silently asking for a refill. 
“Same thing, Sammy? Since when did you start drinking scotch, anyway?” he asks, refilling your glass with a handful of ice before pouring the Johnny Walker overtop of it. You return his question with a menacing glare; he knows exactly when you switched from whatever draft IPA was on tap to… this. You watch the ice cubes swirl around in the glass as it fills, keeping silent as your bare foot taps on the wood-slat floor beneath your barstool. “Oh. Right, nevermind,” he responds with a bite of his tongue before being approached by another patron. 
You sigh as you turn in your stool beside the ice machine, running a hand through your saltwater-damp strands, feeling the effects of forgetting to put sunscreen across your cheeks this morning. The icy liquor hits your teeth as you sip from the edge of the glass, letting the fire ignite inside your chest again. The feeling is one you’ve become fond of as of late, but you know the headache that will accompany it will have you kicking yourself in the ass tomorrow. The wind is blowing the palms Eastward, and the warmth of the humid air feels like a storm may be preparing to blow through, if you had to guess. 
Sand is still gritting between your teeth every now and then as you people-watch at the crowded beachfront bar, Donovan’s, watching as locals and tourists alike dance and sing along with the house band. The multicolored spinning lights are bouncing off the faces of the strangers mixed in with your acquaintances, and you suddenly feel a little envious that you aren’t out there enjoying being alive with them. 
A year ago, you would have been right in the middle of it all, stealing the microphone away from the front man, belting out the words to Sweet Caroline or Margaritaville, but now, things are different. Now, you stick to the sidelines in a way that you never have before. Your entire mind, body, and soul have been overtaken by a completely new human being, someone that you aren’t familiar with, drifting further and further away from your true self as the sun rises and sets over the ocean.
Are you happy with yourself?
No, not necessarily. But what the fuck is your other option? You can’t run away to a new place, and you can’t ignore the elephant in the room, so instead of taking control of your life, you let it have you. You bask in the fact that this degenerate side of your lifestyle has become more addictive than any drug you’ve ever done, and you have to admit, it’s more delicious than you could have ever imagined.
A few years ago, now, you’d ridden into this tiny little beach town with your surfboard riding behind you on your baby pink Schwinn bike. You’d come here with nothing but an oversized backpack stuffed full of ratty t-shirts and a few pairs of board shorts, a straw hat, and your lucky koozie in your back pocket. You barely even had more than $300 in your wallet. You’d spent the first week sleeping on the beach and avoiding high-tides, riding around town looking for a job and a place to stay that had a decent roof. 
Finally, after four or five days of searching, you’d landed a job as a surf instructor at the Ten Down surf shop, working Wednesday through Sunday for minimum wage plus tips. You were over the moon, of course, working in the field of what you knew and loved best, the ocean. 
Growing up as the only child of a single dad was oftentimes more difficult than it was enjoyable, but your father took the hardships in stride. He’d raised you alone, working while you were at school and then teaching you how to surf in the evenings. Even if your father struggled, you never knew it. He was a wild character, always the life of the party and had more wisdom in his pinky finger than you had in your whole body. All your memories of him are fond, and he taught you more about life than you’d ever learned on your own. 
He was street smart, intelligent in ways that didn’t make sense to other people. And damn, if he didn’t love the ocean. Loved it so much that he devoted his life to it. And in the end, it was the ocean that took him away from you. Why he thought venturing out during a storm by himself is beyond you still to this day, and you’ve only just now started to forgive him for it. Maybe it had something to do with your mom not being there to help raise you. Maybe he thought he was more powerful than the waves he rode. You’ll never know.
It was only a week after you got hired at Ten Toes that your co-worker Scotty figured out that your home was somewhere up underneath the pier, and asked if you’d like to crash on his couch with him and his housemates. You couldn’t turn down his offer, of course, knowing that if you had to sleep one more night with the sandflies you might actually move back to your shitty hometown. The house was small, but big enough to hold his three roommates and you on their sofa. 
In hindsight, that might have been the absolute best year of your entire life, thus far. Everyone you lived with was on the same level as you… surfing to live, and living to surf. You shared meals, met their families, partied way too much, and spent every single night together watching the sun drift down below the waves from your seats on your boards. You were making money, you were having more fun than you ever imagined possible. You were in a constant state of bliss, that is until she came around and turned your entire world upside down. 
The day your manager introduced her as the new hire at the shop was the first day of the rest of your life. Her sweet and timid hand taking yours into a handshake, taking your breath straight from your lungs as she introduced herself as ‘Cora’. You became enraptured by her, the way her green eyes poked through her lashes, the way her freckles sat perfectly across her tanned face, the way her long hair reached far past her waist…
She was the newest hire at the shop, just like you had been the summer previous, so you understood completely how it could be a little difficult to grasp how things went, there. So you took her under your wing a little, volunteering to show her the ropes and walk her through her probie-period of learning. She was shy at first, hardly giving you more than a few sentences a day. But you committed each of those sentences to your memory, hanging on her every word like they were the last ones you’d ever hear uttered from her perfectly pink lips.
Over the period of that summer, your shy coworker became your good friend, and as the blaze of the summer started to drift into the coolness of Fall, your good friend became the one you ended up falling asleep with under the pier, this time by choice. 
You fell fast and hard for one another, freefalling blindly into what felt like a bottomless pit that the two of you would never tire of floating through. Everything was perfect, she was perfect. Every waking hour was spent with her, surfing, hiking, biking, socializing… and the sleeping hours were spent wrapped up in each other, tangling your limbs and intricately weaving your emotions into what you could only describe as pure and effortless love. 
She came out of her shell once she became comfortable with you, spending more and more time away from her own roommates to crash out on the futon in your room you were able to acquire when one of Scotty’s buddies moved out. For the longest time, it felt like life couldn’t get any better, like you’d truly hit the peak, and there was no way you’d ever be able to be any happier than this, here, with her. 
‘Love, Sammy… you love me?’
‘With everything I am, baby, I swear…’
And you did, you really and truly did love her. All the other failed relationships of your past dulled in comparison to what you had with Cora. You didn’t have to try with her, the ease of your lives came and went just as easily as the waves crashed onto the beach and drifted away again, always unfaltering and headstrong.
You weren’t even upset when she decided to get a second job at the only 24-hour restaurant in town waiting tables during the lunch and dinner shifts. In fact, you were happy, seeing as how the two of you had begun to save up a little money to rent a place of your own. 
You weren’t upset when she began to pick up more shifts there at the restaurant than she did at Ten Down. And you weren’t even pissed when she started bringing home more money than you, even after you’d been employed at the shop for almost two years. You shrugged it all off, because you were a team, in this together, sharing everything under the sun as you survived the world with her. 
You weren’t pissed. Not even in the least. 
Until one night in early summer when you woke up on a Saturday morning ready to rush to the shop for your surf lesson, pulling yourself from the sheets only to realize she wasn’t asleep next to you. You checked the bathroom, the other guys’ bedrooms, outside on the porch… she was nowhere. And her bike wasn’t parked outside. 
Her phone went straight to voicemail over and over and over, and her texts pulled up green as you began to realize her phone was off. Panic set in as your mind began to rush with possibilities of if she was hurt or harmed… thoughts back to last night reminded you that you’d crashed out early after a smoke session with Scotty, sending her a sweet goodnight text that assured her not to work too hard. 
After telling Scotty to call you if he heard back from her, you took off on your bike down the sandy street toward the restaurant, hoping to talk to someone who may have closed with her last night. 
“Nope, they cut a couple of us at 11:30 and sent us home, I haven’t seen her since…” one of her coworkers told you, only sending your panic into a deeper spiral. You called her roommates, her friends, hell, you ever texted her mom to see if anyone had spoken to her since yesterday. But all came up empty handed. It was like she had vanished. 
You decided to ride to the shop to see if by some miraculous chance she’d be there, ready to work her shift. Your feet pedaled hard as you zipped through alleyway shortcuts and across parking lots to get there faster, your heart pounding in your ears as you continually checked your phone for any updates. Your tires slid sideways across the pebble gravel as you let your bike fall against the tin building, and you rushed inside in a huffed mess of nerves and sweaty exhaustion. 
You yelled through the building at your coworkers, announcing your arrival. Your voice was chopped and strained as your hands shook with anticipation. 
“Damon, Marie! Have you guys heard from–” 
You were stopped in your tracks as you met eyes with her, seated at the check-in desk sipping coffee from a bright orange mug.
“What the FUCK! Cora, where– why…where have you been?” you squealed as you approached her, your hand reaching out to touch her to see if you were imagining things. “Why weren’t you at home?” Your last sentence came out as a hushed whisper only meant for her, as your other two coworkers walked away from the scene. 
Her normally chipper and honest demeanor was replaced by something you weren’t familiar with as her eyes fell from yours, her words skipped and uncertain as she tried to explain herself. 
“It’s nothing, Sammy, baby… I– I went over to Cameron’s for drinks with some of the restaurant crew after work last night… I had too many drinks and decided I shouldn’t ride home, shouldn’t walk, it’s nothing, I just…stayed there.” Her story would make sense if she had ever fucking done something like that before. 
“Cameron’s? Baby, you hardly know him, and where is your phone? I’ve been calling all morning…” you pestered, still out of breath. 
“It’s dead, it’s in my bag…” she said, leaving her sentence with no more explanation as she nonchalantly sipped at her coffee. 
“And you didn’t think to charge it? To text me from someone else’s phone to let me know where you were? Fuck, Cora, I almost sent out a search party out for you…” your voice began to raise. “You never–why did you…?” You were at a loss for words as you tried to understand her reasoning. You knew she would have been just as worried if it were you… well, you think. Your blood was boiling for a whole other reason now, as you knew she deliberately chose to keep you in the dark for the entire night, and well into the morning.
She stood from her stool as she glanced to the double glass doors behind you, meeting eyes with her family of three for their early morning surf lessons. She placed her hand gently on the center of your chest as she still avoided eye contact. “Sam, I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking clearly. Please, don’t be mad…” She left you standing there in the middle of the shop like a dumbfounded idiot, her explanation offering you quite literally nothing. Your hands dropped to your sides as you fought with admitting defeat. That was really fucked up of her…
Things only got progressively worse after that. What once was a loving and beautiful sex-fueled relationship turned into one of secrecy and absence, the action of her not returning to your bed each night becoming something you got quite used to. 
Drag-out fights left her crying in your arms, pulling her back into your shanty of a home you’d finally found for $400 a month. Both of you soaked from tears and the rain outside after you told her to just go… only to have her tumbling back into your bed, ravishing each other like it was the first time you’d ever laid your hands on her. 
‘Don’t make me go, Sammy… this is our home… it’s ours…” she’d beg as you fucked into her, sprawled out across the mattress. 
‘I’m not making you go… you keep choosing to leave…”
But yet, the vicious cycle continued. The best thing in your world, the most joy you had ever felt, continuously choosing to stay away for days on end like some type of terrifying nightmare. After so long, you stopped following her location on your phone. You stopped making sure she was okay, wherever she was. You stopped letting her into your house when she’d come back begging for another chance.
Fuck it, you’d decided, losing all the fight you had left in you when you heard through the grapevine that it wasn’t her partying that kept her at Cameron’s, it was Cameron himself. 
That was the fight to end all fights. The worst one yet, when she did everything but admit that she’d been cheating all along. God damnit, you should have known. All the red flags were whipping across your face, your gut screaming at you day in and day out to listen to it. But you didn’t, because you loved her. Until that fight. 
That was a long, long time ago. And after that, she never came back home.
Tonight, as you work on your third scotch and deliberate on going and scooping up a girl on the dancefloor and sneaking her away for a night of revelry, your mind feels more jostled than normal. 
For the past five weeks or so, Cora had inched her way back into your life after a year of separation, friendly at first, and seemingly more mature than when she had left. But, like the addictive drug that she was, she cast her spell across you, hypnotizing you into falling back into bed with her on multiple drunken occasions. 
‘I’m still trying to fucking heal from you Cora, none of this feels right…’
‘I know it doesn’t baby… I’m so sorry… but nobody can love me as good as you… nobody can get me right like you can…do you know what I mean? I still crave you, baby… Don’t tell me you don’t miss me…”
After five backslides, you’d begun to fall into a routine with her again, not giving one single fuck if she was with Cameron or not. She’s still beyond addictive, a substance so disturbingly pure that you swear she isn’t as tainted and devious as she seems. Her entire being is laced with some kind of other material that you swear could end up being your demise. 
The sex is even better than it was before, rounds upon rounds of the most beautiful love you’ve ever made, but you know deep down that it is far from such. There is no love in that home. No laughs shared, no blissful reconnections that end with breakfast in bed. No early morning dates out riding the waves together… No, all you do is indulge in each other’s bodies after nights of too much weed and too much alcohol, using each other to get exactly what you want and nothing else. 
You can’t seem to pull yourself away from her spell, sneaking her into bar bathrooms and out onto the beach to hide her in the dunes, spilling yourself into her without a care of any repercussions. You’re drunk on her. A slave to your impulses, a traitor to your own devices. It hurts. It really fucking hurts. You know your heart still lives within her, but hers is so far gone that you don’t think it has a home at all. And you know for a fact that it doesn’t belong to you, anymore.
You think you’ve successfully managed to slip through the cracks on her list tonight, not having seen her for a few days, now. You don’t frequent this bar in search of her, like many of your friends think you do. You were here first, this is your spot. But apparently it’s hers again, too, much to your simultaneous dismay, and deep-seeded pull to fulfill your dependency on her. It’s a double edged sword any way you toss it. 
“Haven’t seen her tonight, Sammy, maybe you’ve escaped her wrath yet again,” Scotty jokes as he slides into the barstool beside you. Scotty knows everything about you, and you him. You’d never admitted it to one another, but you’d probably call him your best friend. After living and working side by side with him for the past three years, you’ve been forced to like each other no matter how opposite you may be. You both share a love for surfing and it’s a language you both can understand, so when it comes to your fateful relationship with Cora, he gets it. 
“Yeah, maybe so,” you agree with a sigh. “Kinda weird for a Saturday though. She’s usually got her fingers in my belt loops by now.”
Scotty scoffs a laugh, running a hand through his waves. “God damn, you’re still tied up in her eh? You ever gonna let yourself be happy?”
You sigh a deep breath of disappointment in yourself. “Tied up’s not the words, Scott. I’m fully aware that I’m a sick individual who can’t seem to stay the fuck away from her. Why am I like this?” You ask your friend over the loud music. “Should I seek help?”
“No helping you, little brother!” Scotty teases as he rustles the hair on your head. “She must squeeze that thing right,” he jokes. 
“Yeah, she fuckin’ does,” you agree, avoiding eye contact with him. “That’s all it is now, man. Swear.”
“Don’t lie to me, Sammy boy. I know you better than that shit. You telling me you have no emotions when you sleep with her? No feelings anymore?”
You grit your teeth, holding back the truth. “I dunno, I mean… we were serious, man. I loved her. Now that we’re doing this shit again…” Your inner monologue with yourself fights to the death once again, your head and your heart fighting an endless battle with one another. “It just is what it is right now.”
“She still with ol’ boy?” He asks. 
You shrug. “Don’t know. Don’t care,” you say blankly as you take another sip from your glass. 
“So you’re just fucking, now. No strings attached?”
“That’s it, my friend,” the admission feels lifeless, as you know you still hold a candle for her.
“You know she’s using you right? This can’t be healthy for you…I know she broke your fucking heart, man,” Scotty goes on, adding a little empathy to his tone. 
You simmer on his words for a second, knowing they came from a place of complete honesty. He’s entirely right. 
“I’m guilty, I’ll admit to that,” you say. “My heart’s losing but. My body’s winning,” you cheese a smile at him, feeling transparent as you admit to letting a woman use you for just your body. 
“Livin’ the fucking dream, my guy,” Scotty laughs hard as he places a hand on your shoulder, finishing off his beer. “You want another?” He asks as you turn back to lean on the bar, finally feeling the effects of your intoxication hitting you hard. Numbing the pain you so often succumb to. 
“Ah, maybe one more. Gotta open tomorrow,” you say, winking to the bartender to add one more to your tab. 
“You still uh, you still think the deal’s gonna go down?” Scotty asks as he leans his head in closely to yours. 
“Hope so, everything is on track for it to be official by beginning of next season,” you explain. You hadn’t told many people yet, but the original owners of Ten Toes had decided to take an early retirement, and since you and Scotty had become their most trusted and knowledgeable employees, they offered you the business as a partnership. “You think we can do this?”
It’s a large endeavor, and you are terrified beyond belief, but you try your best to see it as the opportunity of a lifetime, taking the reigns of an already successful business and making it into your own. All the pieces are already there, all you need to do is sign your name, and your dream career of being an entrepreneur is yours for the taking. 
Scotty takes his new beer in his hand, leaning it in to cheers against your glass. “I think we can do this.”
You nod at him as the two of you share a moment, letting the realization fall on you once again. “We growing up, finally, Sammy boy?”
Just as his question rings through your ears, you catch sight of her. The pretty blonde who holds every single key to all the chambers of your heart. The one you’d settled down with, the one who could truly care less about anything besides stringing you along for no more benefit than her own agenda. 
She catches your gaze from across the bar, pulling her hair behind her ear as she begins to saunter your way through the crowd.
“I hope so, Scott. Maybe tomorrow, though. Looks like I’m staying an immature asshole for tonight.” You tilt your chin her way, causing Scotty to follow your gaze her way. 
“Fuck. She showed. Thought you might actually get a night of freedom,” Scott complains with the slightest bit of clip to his tone. You know Scotty is worried about you, wants the best for you. And you do, too, but for tonight you’re going to allow yourself to think with the wrong head yet again. And with that tight dress she has on, you’re going to fucking enjoy it, too.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, man,” Scott says with defeat as he slides his half-drank beer mug across the bartop. 
“Night Scott.”
Her eyes haven’t left yours since you caught sight of her, the breeze blowing up the ruffles at the bottom of her stark white dress. She’s making her way closer, her perfectly tanned legs sauntering across the floor as you finally break your gaze, turning to the bartender to order her a drink. 
You feel her presence behind you, the smell of her perfume already wafting across your nose. She pulls the stool that Scott had just inhabited a few inches closer to you, leaning her chin down into the crook of her folded arms.
“Where’s Cameron?” you ask lowly as the bartender slides her glass in front of her.
“Hello to you too, Sam,” she barks from behind her arm, sitting up to squeeze the lime into the vodka.
You cut your eyes her way, knowing that sometimes it wasn’t unlike her to show up at this bar and flirt her way into your embrace, only for Cameron to show up an hour later and whisk all of her attention right away. It’d only happened a couple of times, but still yet, it stung. 
“I said where is Cameron?” you bite, really not feeling like pursuing this if he was going to show up. 
She sighs a quick breath of aggravation. “Not here. Not coming.”
You sip at the scotch that’s discontinued burning your lips, now numbing not only your mouth but your ability to make decisions, too. “You came all the way over here by yourself, again?”
Cora flips her brown leather bag up onto the bar, her multiple keychains hanging off of it clanking against the wooden bar. “Yeah, Sam, I did. I’m actually… back in town, kind of…” she trails off, smoothing her waist-long locks against her hip. 
All the blood rushes from your head, straight into your extremities. Fuck. Back in town?!
“What do you mean kind of?” you ask, beginning to tap your toes against the bottom rung of your stool again. 
“I mean I’m working on getting back over this way… looking for a.. place…” She speaks almost as if she’s embarrassed to be admitting this to you.
“What, things not working out in la la land?” you scoff. 
“Can you cut the shit, Sam?” she slams her glass down. “God, everything has to turn into some bullshit argument with you. Every single time.”
You can feel the resentment billowing up in your chest. You know that she has regret, and she lets it show every time you’re together. But you revel in the fact that she made her bed, now she has to lie in it. And everytime she ends up back in your bedroom, you press the dagger a little further, knowing that hurting her just as much as she hurt you is enough to get you through. Until the next time, of course. 
“I’m not arguing, Cor. Just asking.” You make a point to keep your words short. If an argument is going to happen, again, it won’t be by your hand. 
She huffs. “I just… want to be on my own right now. Figure my shit out. Plus the surf sucks down there, anyway.” You can tell she’s lying. 
You smile behind your glass. “Cameron only lives fifteen minutes away, doll. Can’t imagine it’s that much different.”
“Why are you pushing the Cameron agenda? We’re not even–”
“Not together? Do you think I’m stupid, Cora? People talk, and I talk back. It’s not a fucking mystery,” you run your tongue behind your teeth as you feel the rage boiling up in you again, knowing that this fourth scotch isn’t doing much to help. “Everyone knows what happened, what you did to me. So just admit it, you’re unhappy because the grass wasn’t greener. Now you want your old life back, that what it is?”
You know this isn’t a discussion that needs to be held at this bar. You know that your words are flying a lot faster than you’d intended. But you deserve to bitch.
“Sam, you really don’t want to do this,” Cora hums as you hear the band move from one song to the next, the crowd finally riling up at the late hour.
Your skin is burning with rage at the realization that she’s seriously thinking about moving back here again, after everything that had happened. After knowing what she did to you. Cheated, lied… then allowed herself to play you like a marionette, a puppet she could call on whenever she needed a quick fuck. 
No. No. This is your home, now. 
“No, I kinda do, Cora,” you raise your voice a little, turning your body toward her to face her completely in your stool. You could feel the intoxication slurring your words and blurring your vision. “Admit it. You left me because I obviously wasn’t what you wanted, so you ran away without even having the decency to tell me why… to even break things off before you hopped into bed with Cameron. Admit it! You came here looking for me tonight, didn’t you? Looking for the same goddamned thing you always are.” You were borderline yelling at her, now. But it felt good. It felt good to finally get it all out, the alcohol doing away with all your inhibitions. 
She cowered away a little, sitting back in her seat as her face got more red with each passing second. But you’re smarter than that, this is all part of her act. 
“You think I came here just so you’d take me home again, Sam?”
“Yeah, Cora! What the fuck else would you be here for?! This happens way more than it should. Honestly, it’s slutty behavior, and it’s not a good look on you, it never has been.”
Just as your last word leaves your mouth, you feel the icy stickiness of vodka splashing you across the neck and chest, the lime slice thudding against your stomach as the cold liquid drips down into your lap, followed by a hundred slivers of ice. 
You throw your hands up into the air as you scoot your stool back, catching the attention of a few people seated nearby. “What the fuck, Cora?! Are you fucking crazy??” you scream, brushing off the vodka that dripped down your chin. 
“Fuck you, Sam!” she yells as she grabs her bag and jumps from her seat, rushing down the steps back out onto the beach. You glance to Marcus, wordlessly telling him that you’ll pay your tab tomorrow.
You follow her down the steps out onto the beach that is nearly empty, now. You can feel your feet tripping over themselves as you chase her to the pier, the tide already coming up well above the beams. The wind is whipping furiously, now, and the storm you predicted earlier is most definitely on its way. 
“Cora! Stop!” you shout, ordering her to slow down. 
“NO!” she yells over the howl of the wind that was now blowing tiny specks of sand against your legs. “Leave me be, Sam!”
Finally she makes it to another set of stairs that lead up to the road, not far away from what used to be your home with her. “Cor! Please!” you beg. You don’t know why you’re chasing her, your chest still dripping with the vodka soda she decided to douse you with. Why? Why follow her at all? Fuck her, fuck this… but your legs carry you, yet.
She stomps up the stairs, finally turning and crossing her arms across her chest when she reaches the top. Her eyes were red, but no tears wet her cheeks. “What? What, Sam? What do you want me to say?” she barks. 
Your body is like a magnet to hers, pulling you instantly into her bubble. You reach up and brush away the invisible tear that you know is bound to fall at any second, willing yourself to catch it before it decides to escape. “I want you to fucking admit it to me, Cora! Be fucking real with me for once! Tell me everything, not just the parts of the story that benefit you!”
She rips herself away from your hand, turning and walking through the parking lot. “I fucking can’t Sam! I won’t! I know I’ve screwed everything up, and it’s all my fault!”
You chase after her again. “Why, Cora?! Be a fucking adult and tell me! I deserve at least that much, don’t you think?” Your breath is heaving again as you practically beg her to just speak to you.
She continues running through the lot and down the street as the clouds continue to push across the dark sky, threatening rain. You can smell it in the air as a few flashes of lightning flash over the sea again. 
She finally stops at her car, standing beside it as she furiously tries to dig her keys from the bottom of the bag. You finally catch up, maneuvering your body to stand between her and the door. She’s in full-on sobs, now, choking back the cry that you’ve seen her put herself through time and time again. “Let me go, Sam,” she begs through clipped chokes.
“No. You’re going to talk to me. I’m–I’m sorry I called you… that. I shouldn’t have said that, and I deserve to wear this fucking vodka,” you say reluctantly as you brush it off you again. “I’m not letting you into this car until you talk to me. Tell me the truth. Once and for all, Cora.” You could feel the sadness sticking in your throat, all the old emotion you had for her bubbling up again. Old love is a strange thing, the way it intertwines itself in your bones, strong and stoic until the person that shared it with you comes back and makes it fragile again. Like cracked glass, you begin to shatter for her. 
“Tell me you cheated on me. Just say it. Tell me you love him more than you ever loved me, and I’ll let you go,” you say with defeat, hot tears filling your eyes. “I just need to hear it, please… I can’t do this anymore, Cor…”
Her hands come up to cover her eyes as she turns and paces, your final request hitting her as hard as it hit you. You can’t do this any more, you can’t chase her for months on end, only for her to race back into the arms of someone else. It’s time to end it, if it’s going to end at all. Still, even after all this, you’d do anything for her. 
Finally she gets herself together again, standing tall and sturdy before you. You watch as her hands slowly make their way to wrap around your waist, her chest still heaving, too. Just the feeling of her skin on yours is enough to make every muscle in your body relax. Her hands gripping into your back, her cheek pressed to your still-soaked chest. “I’m sorry, Sammy. I’m so sorry…” she cries.
“Sorry for what, Cora? Please…”
Her arms tighten around you as her mouth finds your neck. “Please don’t make me say it… I can’t stay away from you…”
You slump with defeat, but the wet kisses she’s started to lay onto your throat begin to cloud your judgment. “Please say it, baby. Just be honest with me for fucking once…”
Her teeth bite into your ear lobe making you hiss, and she leans into you, pressing her core right against you. God damn her. It isn’t fair, all the times you’ve let her get the best of you, using you and manipulating your feelings. She knows all your weaknesses, and your most prominent one is her. Your eyes peep open through the tears, seeing the palms still blowing sideways in the wind. It’s going to pour at any second. 
Her hand snakes its way between you as she takes your already hardening dick in her palm, not caring if anyone is even around to see. Fuck her and her ability to melt you into putty every single fucking time. “Cora…” you grit as she squeezes you in her hand. “Tell me you still want me…”
“I think it’s pretty fucking obvious, isn’t it baby?” she laughs through a sob. “I want you, I’ve always wanted you.” 
You can’t stop yourself from grabbing her face forcefully in your hands, pressing her tear-soaked lips to yours in a fiery and wanting kiss. Her nails grip into your back, raking across it and back over your stomach as she continues to squeeze your still-covered cock. Your mind is racing with thoughts, but what’s fucking new? Here we go again…
Raindrops begin to patter on your head and on the hood of her car as loud thunder rumbles in the distance. You kiss her hard, just like you always do after some time apart. She’s delicious in every sense of the word, her skin still glowing from the sunscreen oil she applied to her shoulders earlier in the day. The sand still caked on her long blonde strands, the taste of the lime still sour on her tongue. Everything about her, delectable and addictive, and once again, you can feel yourself dancing with the devil.
“This is such a fucking grey area, Cora. I hate when you do this to me…” you mumble as you break away, the rain falling harder, now. 
“Let me make you happy, Sammy, please. That’s all I ever want,” she pleads, kneading you in her hand. 
You grip her shoulder, turning her to put her back against her car door, switching places completely. You push her back, pinning her against the door. You can feel the sexual tension rising with each passing second as you grit your jaw, wanting nothing more than to devour her right here where you stand. “What would make me happy is if you tell me the truth. But that’s not going to fucking happen, is it?” you ask, raking your eyes over her face.
“The truth is that I’m a fucking fool for you, Sam. And I always will be,” she admits, her teeth biting at your lip as the two of you pant into one another, the need growing heavier by the minute. You thrust your hips into her touch, your body begging you do something.
“I don’t think you’re the fool here, Cora.” The rain begins to fall in giant beads, bouncing off the metal car hood as the thunder rips through the sky. “Park across the street and come meet me up in the shower,” you order her as your hand grips her ass, pulling her even closer into you. 
“Are you su–”
“Don’t make me think about it,” you say as the rain begins to soak through your shirt. “Just get in the car.”
You know the hot water is going to sober you, and the last thing you need right now is a clear head. You strip the soaked shirt from your limbs before you even make it inside your house, flicking the kitchen light on as you search the cabinet for a glass. You pull the scotch down from the top of the refrigerator, pouring a few fingers as you take a long drink, letting the liquor get you back where you needed to be. This is all so fucked... You feel so fucking weak.
You reach into the freezer and grab the ice tray, popping a few cubes free and dropping them into your drink. You roll your neck on your shoulders as you take a deep breath, making your way upstairs to the bathroom. 
You eye yourself in the mirror as you push your hair back from your shoulders, and your reflection meets you with a disapproving look. As the years go on, you notice yourself looking more and more like your father, his pointed features becoming more apparent as you mature toward the age he was when he passed. Your eyes are red, your skin is blotchy, and your expression is way past defeated, knowing that here you are again, about to drunkenly make the same mistake you’ve made time and time again. 
You can still feel the scratches she left behind on your skin as you step into the steamy shower, the hot water stinging where her fingernails tore at your skin. The feeling of her hand on you over your shorts, the remnant taste of the lime on her tongue. You’re still so attached and devoted to her, when all she’s ever done is give you quite literally, nothing. You’re the fool.
After a few minutes of standing motionless in the water, you hear your bathroom door creak open, and her footsteps enter the small room. 
“S’me,” she mutters, and you kick yourself into gear.
“Get in here,” you demand, your attitude on one hundred as you surprise even yourself. You hear her begin to undress. 
The curtain pulls back, revealing her completely nude self as she steps in to join you in the shower. “Hey…” she says meekly as you fill your hand with shampoo. 
“Hey.”
You step to the side, letting her get under the water. You watch as chill bumps cover her body as her temperature adjusts, her head falling back to soak her hair as she shudders a little. You watch her perfect tits bob a little as her arms reach back to wet her hair, her nipples hardening as the water rushes over them. Your eyes drift down to her chest, her stomach… her tan lines more apparent now in the dim lighting of the bathroom. Perfect. Always so perfect.
She finally wipes the water from her eyes as she steps out from the streams, and you motion for her to turn around as you put the shampoo from your hand into her hair, beginning to massage it softly into her scalp. 
After a few seconds, she finally speaks. “Why’re you so good to me, Sammy? After everything…after me treating you the way that I do…?”
Her words take the breath from your lungs, making you second guess this whole thing. “I think you know why, baby.”
“But I don’t deserve your attention, much less for you to be washing my hair for me.”
You bite back what you want to say, instead channeling your dad and his wisdom. “Sometimes showing your love selflessly to someone who doesn’t even want it means more to them than telling them that you do. You might not remember all the times I told you how much I loved you, but you’ll probably remember me showing it.”
It’s silent for a beat as your fingertips rub into her scalp. 
“Loved,” she murmurs.
“What?” 
“You said loved. Do you not…”
Ah, fuck. 
You swallow hard, unsure how to even answer that question. “I don’t know what you even want to call it anymore, Cora. It’s… a mess, you know?” You level with her. You feel her nod as you turn her to rinse her hair. 
As you meet her face again, she avoids your gaze as her eyes jump to the ceiling, blinking away guilty tears. Maybe she’s finally beginning to understand…
“Of course I still feel something for you, I probably always will. We spent years together. Things like that don’t go away in the blink of an eye. But, you mistreated me, Cora. And now you won’t even admit to it. You don’t even want to be civil enough to give me the benefit of knowing the truth. And that tells me… maybe you never even loved me back in the first place.” Your words of admission make her bite both of her lips in, her chin beginning to shake as she fights back the tears again. Her eyes stay trained on the ceiling above you. 
“I did, Sammy. I swear I did. I do…” she whispers. 
You shake your head as the last of the bubbles fall from her strands. “No. See, no. You can’t love me anymore. You can’t love me and then sneak back into the sheets with someone else. It doesn’t work that way. Don’t you understand that?”
She wipes the water from her face again, her eyes red with disappointment in herself, but you hold steady. “What we had, it was good. It was perfect. I wanted it all with you, Cora. I wanted the flower pots on the porch, the planning dinner while we make breakfast, the surfing from the time the sun comes up until it goes down again. Sharing a home with you, sharing a closet, sharing my deepest fears and all my memories… you were it. It was going to be you from then on out. But you tarnished it. All my trust in you is gone, especially now since you still won’t even give me what I need. I need reciprocation. You don’t bring me happiness anymore. You bring me doubt, and suffering, and bad decisions… So no. You can’t love me. I…I can’t let you.”
She stays silent as your words sink in, the water now steaming up the air between you. 
“...Yet here I am in your shower with you. In our old home. That you invited me back to, knowing and going along with the exact reason I came here in the first place…” she shakes her head. “You’re just as helpless as I am, Sammy…”
She steps closer, gently craning her neck to meet your lips again. What started as a peck, a barely-there tap that spoke more words than you needed it to, quickly turns into a rushed and fervent kiss, your tongues dancing and fighting against one another as her hands grip into your damp hair. She’s so completely overwhelming to you. You’re unable to even form thoughts as you feel her lips on yours, so velvety and sweet. Four hands, already gripping and pulling at each other again, her breasts pressed against your chest as they slide over you. 
“Tell me, Sammy…” she pulls away. “Do you still crave me? Do you still think about me when you lay down at night?”
Her hand grasps at your hair, pulling it back as she starts in on your throat again. The feeling of her, so addictive and so blinding. Her mouth and tongue gliding against your skin as the hot shower continues to pour over you making you dizzy as that last shot of scotch begins to soak into your bloodstream, giving you just the right amount of confidence to get through this again. 
You swallow and bite back a moan at the feeling of her mouth on you. “Of course I do,” you admit, as much as you don’t want to. 
“Have you ever had someone fuck you the way I did? The way I do?” she goes on, her lips making their way down your shoulder. 
You refuse to answer, knowing that all she’s doing is using her siren song to lure you back to right where she wants you. But the funny part about it all is that you’ve already succumbed to it.
Instead of speaking, you slip your hand between her folds, making her entire body quiver as your finger finds her clit within seconds. She steps her feet apart a little as you pull her wetness up, coating her all over. “God, Sam…” she purrs as her head falls back. You move your hand to let your thumb go to work, wasting no time in letting your fingers enter her completely. Everything happens fast, your sexual pull to her undeniable and unable to be ignored. She cries out, her sounds bouncing off the plexiglass walls of your small shower. 
Her hand finds your dick again, stroking it right in time with the circles of your thumb against her. You grit your teeth, sending your middle two fingers even deeper inside of her, flicking your fingers against her most sensitive spot. “Oh my god…” she cries again, her hand gripping hard on your shoulder to hold herself up. 
You know how her body works, and you know that she is liable to get off at any second, so you drop to your knees, knowing that you’d do anything in the world to taste her release on your tongue right now. You’re blinded by desire for her, her words from earlier  falling completely to the wayside. 
You pull her leg over your shoulder while she leans with her back against the wall, her hands ruffling hard into the roots of your hair again. “Baby, fuckkkk…” she wails as you let your tongue dip into her, pressing it as deeply as it will go. The water is falling directly onto your face, and you feel like you might be drowning, but you don’t need air right now. If you’re going to suffocate, you’re going to suffocate just like this. 
Her hips jut forward onto your face, rolling slowly as she begins to corner your tongue right where she wants it. If she’s going to try to say she still loves you, you’re going to make her eat her words. You reach one hand behind her, gripping at her ass as you feel her body begin to shake. You knead your fingers into the muscle, pulling her further onto your mouth, flicking your tongue against her clit as you add just the right amount of suction. You pull your hand away, signaling with the two fingers that were just buried inside her to come on, let you have it. 
“That what you want baby? Want me to come on your face?” she asks, panting through her words as she pulls your hair incredibly tight. 
“Mhmm…” you reply, making sure to vibrate the word directly on her clit. 
Her hands hold your head in place as you feel her stomach muscles tighten, and you do all that you can to hold her upright. Finally you feel her letting go, coating your face and tongue as she mutters obscenities into the thick air. Her hips tremble in your hold, but the taste of her is immaculate, the sight of her letting go for you forever being burned into your brain. 
You hate it. You hate this.
With one final pull of your tongue across her, you stand back up, taking her tits in your hands as you delve your face onto her collarbone, sucking hard at the skin purposefully leaving behind a bright pink cherry hickey. “There. See if Cameron notices that tomorrow,” you jerk, knowing that it will piss her off. 
“Fuck off, Sam. Are you fucking serious?” she bites as her words come through a little more heated than the blissful expression her face gives. 
“Yeah, I’m fucking serious. Now, do you want me to fuck you in here, or on the bed?” you ask, pressing a hand to her stomach to push her against the wall again. 
“I–I…”
“No, none of that. Tell me what you want,” you reply with a little bit of a slur, watching as her eyes glint with surprise. 
“Fine,” she breathes. “Both.”
“Both? Fuck, baby. You’d think after how the night has gone you’d ask for the bare minimum, but. God, pulling more out of me than I even bargained for. Just like always, huh?”
You know you’re being a jackass, but you really don’t care. If you’re only fucking her for the sake of it, and she isn’t going to give you the truth you’ve been searching for, might as well do it up, right?
“Spoiled. Always so fucking spoiled,” you bite again.
“Sam…”
“Shh. Stop talking. Turn around. The only word I want to hear is my name leaving your mouth,” you demand.
She does what you ask as she turns around and faces the wall, pressing her cheek up against it as you pat between her thighs, having her step apart a bit as you take yourself in your hand, pumping a few times before lining up with her. You take a second to pull her hair to the side, sucking her skin into your mouth again as you finally push yourself into her. The angle isn’t the best, but you make it work, bending your knees a little to press into her as far as you can. 
“Motherfuck, baby…” she coos as you thrust further inside, savoring the feeling of her wetness coating you once again. 
“Hmm-mm. My name, baby,” you say as she begins to arch her back a little, leaning away from the wall to give you deeper access. Her right hand comes back to pull at her own asscheek, stretching the skin as she cuts her eyes at you.
“S-Sam…mmy…” she utters as you begin to furiously pound into her, the muscles of her ass like shockwaves across water.
“There it is, baby, that’s all I wanna hear…” you grunt as you gather up the hair that’s splayed down her back, picking it up into your hand and wrapping it around your fist.
You use it as leverage to arch her back further as you let your other hand slap across her ass, the sound of the smack startling her into a fit of needing moans. “Fuck, Cor… you feel so fucking good...just like always…” you say as your hips continue into her, messy and slick as the water continues to make everything a soaked mess. 
You swear you could do this for the rest of forever, but even through the thickness of the air around you, and through the clouds clogging up your inebriated mind, something about sex with her suddenly feels different. Even in the heat of teetering on the edge of an orgasm, you feel like the earth has shifted, a giant crevice metaphorically forming in the ground between the two of you, separating you by what felt like miles.
Something is off. No, not off. Gone.
Completely just… gone. Just like that. 
You look down at the gorgeous body of the only one who has ever made your heart beat fast, and suddenly you see her just as she is– a woman.
A woman who has lied to you, cheated on you, tested your patience and made you question your every move. Manipulated you, used you in every sense of the word. And though she told you tonight that she still loves you, could you even trust her enough for it to be the truth?
This isn’t what you want. This isn’t even close to the happiness you know you deserve. Scotty is right. He’s always been right. 
But as your body and human instinct begin to defeat the thoughts rushing your mind, you shift gears, pulling her hair up to meet her ear with your mouth. 
“You said both, right?”
You pull yourself out of her, hearing her cry out at the loss of contact. You reach behind you and turn the water off, reaching outside of the curtain to grab two towels. You toss one to her and dry yourself off a little with the other, quickly running it through your hair as you rip the curtain open. “Hurry up, go get on the bed.”
She gives you a side glance as she squeezes the water from her hair, stepping out and into the bedroom. You follow her, your bodies still dripping wet and red from the heat of the water. If you’re going to do this for what you’re deciding is going to be the last time, you’re going to do it right. 
“I said on the bed,” you bite as you watch her hesitate. “This used to be your house, why are you being shy?”
“I… I don’t know, you’ve never really acted like this before, just… I picked out this comforter, and you still have it…”
You stand for a second as the flashes of lightning fill the room, the sound of the rain absolutely pounding on your metal roof. You shrug, unknowing of what else to really say. “I mean, why would I get another comforter?”
She shrugs again as she sits down on the bed, slowly inching herself backwards as you watch her hair drip onto the sage green material she once was in love with. 
“Look, Cora, you came here to hook up, right? Are we gonna finish up, or what?” your tone surprises you, you don’t even really know who you are right now. And she’s right, you’ve never really acted like this before. But in all honesty, this is the very first time ever that you feel like getting yours, so she can leave. And never come back. You’re washing your hands of this bullshit. The rose-colored glasses are being thrown into the fire, and you don’t even care to stick around and watch them melt.
“Yeah, Sammy. Come here… show me what I’ve been missing,” she says with a pull of her pointer finger. 
You damn near roll her eyes at her. What she’s been missing? Is she fucking serious?
You shake your head and scoff, kneeling down to crawl across the messy bed covers when an idea pops into your head. 
Love, huh?
You can make love…
You lean down, pressing slow, sweet kisses to the insides of her thighs as you move from there to her still-dripping cunt again. You let your tongue ghost over it again, making her shiver at the contact that you’d so graciously blessed her with earlier. “You cold, babe? Want to get under the covers?”
She nods her head, and you pull the puffy green cover over the two of you, instantly warming the chilled air around you. “That better?” you ask, trying to throw on the charm.
You kiss all over her body, gently running your tongue over the places you know will make her shiver and squirm, paying special attention to take your time. Your hands rub into her as your tongue drifts, making your way up her body slowly as the thunder rolls in the background. You make your way up to kiss her, letting your lips dance passionately across hers as you feel her body beginning to want more from you. She cranes up, her hips jutting as you can tell she’s getting antsy. Her hands finally wrap around your waist, pulling you roughly into her. 
“Want you, Sammy…please…” she begs as she breaks away from the kiss. 
“Patience, baby… you want me to show you?” you ask, leaving the question open-ended on purpose, the sentiment of love suddenly feeling like poison in your mouth. 
She nods hard, wrapping one hand around your neck, and the other around your dick, massaging her hand up and down the shaft as she tickles her fingertips around the head. It makes you shudder, and you feel yourself become impossibly hard in her hand. 
You reach down and roll your fingers through her folds again, making sure she’s still where she needs to be. “So wet for me, baby… always so soaked. You think about me sometimes, huh? Think about me and get all excited…make yourself get like this…” you breathe into her ear, your voice just a whisper as you taunt her. 
“Yes, baby. Always, all the time… miss you so bad…” she says, but you hear no ounce of honesty in her tone. None. 
Finally, her hand guides you to her opening, and you press forward again, filling her slowly at this new angle as her head shoots backward into the pillow, her mouth gaping open as you enter her, inch by delicious inch. You grit your teeth as you watch her face in awe, her doe eyes finally coming down to meet yours as you hit the hilt.
“Baby, god, please…” she groans, pulling hard at your hips. Watching her already falling apart like this is exactly what you want. You begin to slowly fuck into her, rolling your hips deviously slow as you rock into her, paying special attention to take this slowly again. 
You back up, pulling her knees up to her chest and holding them there as you roll your hips into her again, hitting her at another impossibly deep angle, low and slow. “Jesus Sam… you’re so fucking good, baby… please keep going…” her moans are pleading and her eyes flit open and closed; you can tell she’s absolutely enjoying every single second of this. 
You’re enjoying it, too, but that crevice in the ground is only becoming wider, sending you further and further away from feeling any type of connection with her. Suddenly you’re on another planet completely.
You let her legs fall to the sides again as you go back to missionary, resting either elbow on the sides of her head, putting you face to face again. You take her in a kiss again, licking your tongue into her mouth as you let it quiet her whimpers. 
“Like this baby? This how you like it?” you ask, rolling your hips with even more passionate force.
“Mhmm.. yeah… just like this… just me and you…” she pleads, taking her tits into her hands as her breath picks up. 
You lean back again and cross one of her legs diagonally between you, hitting her from the side now. Her hands grip into the sheets as you hear the wetness between your skin smacking together, her breathing picking up significantly. “Oh my godddd, what the fuck…” she cries, her body absolutely falling apart for you. But still, you hold strong, not letting any emotion at all come through. And to your continued surprise, it's fairly easy. 
“Roll to your belly,” you demand, and you pull out just long enough for her to do so. You enter her again, and she stays flattened against the mattress. You maneuver her legs so that they’re closed together, making her feel ten times tighter than she did before. You fall against her back, letting your body weight do most of the work as you continue quick thrusts, now.
After a few minutes, you watch as her hands grip into the comforter again, holding on for dear life as she whines, turning her head sideways to look at you. For the first time in your life with her, you see love in her eyes, but not the kind that you yearned for so heavily. Not the kind that was going to give you everlong happiness. 
“Sammy… I’m close baby…” she says, and you feel her walls fluttering around you. You reach a hand under her, finding her clit again and rolling it under your middle finger, giving her double stimulation as you continue from the back. “Oh my god please, yes…” she cries, and within seconds, her body is silent and shaking as she hits her peak, her breath hitching in her throat as she does so.
You aren’t far behind, the sound of her getting off striking a chord deep within you to carnally follow after her. But you are careful. 
You deliver a few especially forced and quick thrusts before pulling all the way out, letting yourself go across her back. You pump yourself with your hand as you make sure you finish all the way, still yet feeling nothing at all for the woman beneath you. Had you finally broken her spell?
You collapse beside her, lying on your back so as not to get the bed too messy. You’re panting and tired, fanning yourself with your hands as you feel the humidity from the storm rolling in through the open windows. After a few seconds of catching your breath, you sit up and go into the bathroom to get her a warm washcloth, returning within seconds to get her cleaned up. 
“Thanks, Sammy,” she mutters, her tone very different than it was just a few minutes ago. She rolls over to face you, pulling the thick blankets over her body. You both lie there in silence for a few minutes as you contemplate what to do, now feeling a little clarity from the alcohol leaving your system. 
“Why did you… ya know…” she asks shyly. 
“What?”
“Why did you pull out?” she asks, taking you by surprise. 
“Well, you’re not my girlfriend anymore, so. Think that’s a good reason.” You’re glad you’re able to keep up the careless demeanor that so graciously fell upon you earlier. 
She’s stunned silent for a second. “I’m not anybody’s girlfriend, Sam.”
You laugh through your nose, the notion of her answering part of your request only just now coming from her. “Hah, good to know. Fucking two hours late.”
“How many times do I have to say I’m sorry before you’ll believe me?” she asks, rolling up to lean on her elbows. 
“I guess as many times as you want to say it, I don’t know,” you quip, not really feeling like entertaining this same goddamned conversation for the thousandth time. 
“Well,” she says lowly, “I am. And I’ll keep saying it. For as long as it takes.” You bite your tongue before looking into her eyes, her bright green irises staring back at you with absolutely zero emotion. She’s still not telling the truth. She’ll never fucking tell you the truth.
“Yeah, here’s the thing, Cora.” You roll over to lean up on your elbows, too. “You can say you’re sorry a million times, but it doesn’t mean shit when you don’t have the intention of changing your behavior. I’ve begged you to be real with me, and I’ve never gotten it. I haven’t gotten your true self in ages, Cor. I don’t even know who you are anymore. I’ve given you a hundred chances. And the fact that you want to move back here is a little unsettling for me, to be honest. Scotty and I are about to inherit the business, and I swear to god, I can’t have a distraction like you around if I’m going to run this business the way it deserves. I know you’re not being honest with me. I know you, and I feel like I know you even less now. I deserve happiness. I deserve to get what I give, and I know you’re not the person to give it to me. I’m not perfect by any means, but at least I’m willing to listen, and change my ways if I need to. I’m frankly tired of the back and forth, Cor. I’m exhausted. Showing you how much I care for you and then you rushing back to Cameron, it’s not what I want. It’s never gonna be what I want.”
“Why do you always have to bring up Cameron, Sam?!”
You smile, her actions proving exactly what you intended them to.
“Because you becoming defensive when I mentioned him just now instead of becoming defensive of literally all the other shit I just said… really put it into perspective. That’s all I needed to hear.” 
“What the fuck do you mean?!” she cries, her voice strangled. 
“I mean, you’re practically numb to all the other shit I said until I bring him up. Only then do you try to defend yourself. Only then do you even hint at being truthful with me. I’m fuckin’ done, Cora.”
You begin to stand from the bed, grabbing a t-shirt from the closet and throwing it her way before pulling on a pair of shorts. 
“That’s not what I mean, Sam! You know this! Where are you going, are you leaving?” she says in succession. 
You run your fingers through your hair, turning back to look at the one who was once the love of your life still naked in your bed, begging you to come back, but all you can feel is the couch downstairs calling your name. 
“You can sleep here, I work early tomorrow. Just make sure you lock the door behind you when you leave,” you say as you open your bedroom door, listening as she calls your name from behind you over and over until the sound of the rain drowns her out.
It fucking hurts, it really does. But the rush of relief you get as you make your way down the steps and into your living room is almost enough to knock you over. Finally. Finally… your pull to her no longer feels like a rope wrapped tightly around your hands. Having sex with her just now brought you a disconnect that you’ve never experienced before. No longer did it feel like she was woven into the deepest depths of your soul, but instead she was just a section of your life that you experienced. And now, you’re ready to move past it. 
Did that really just fucking happen? Did you finally do it? 
You curl up on your cozy couch as you listen to the heavy rain now turn into a drizzle, the orange glow from your salt lamp in the corner making you feel more at home in your house than you ever have. You know you’re about to get the best sleep you’ve ever gotten, dreaming about something other than her haunting your mind. You feel like the whole world is now at your fingertips, ready to be taken advantage of, and lived.
As your bare feet struggle to stand on the wooden bartop, you balance yourself in the center, leaning back to check with Scotty and Marcus. 
“How’s that? Is it dead-center?” you ask as you bite a nail between your teeth, a hammer in one hand while you hold on to the ceiling with the other.
“Little to the left! There…there! Perfect!” Marcus yells out as you position the nail in the saltwater-worn wood of the bar. You pound the nail in, and grip the string that’s fastened securely on the back of the old photo frame. You hang it over the nail, making sure the picture is hanging balanced and straight. 
You hop backwards down off of the bar, standing back with the other two as you place your hands on your hips. “Damn, that does look good, doesn’t it?” you agree as you look at the photo of you and your dad hanging perfectly over the bar, you about 9 or 10, his hand on your shoulder as you pose with your very first surf board.
“He would have loved it, my man,” Scotty says with a pat to your back. “I never even met him, but I know he would have.”
You nod. “Yeah, thanks for letting me put that up, Marcus. I’ll see it more here than I will at home…” you tease as you join Scotty in your respective bar stools.
“That’s an understatement,” Marcus agrees with a laugh. “You two are here more than I am.”
Cora never came back downstairs that night, nor did you go up to tell her goodbye when you left for work that next morning. She didn’t leave any notes, send you any texts… and when the day came for you and Scotty to sign the paperwork setting you up for the rest of your lives, she was the absolute last person on your mind. 
She never came back into town, either. If you had to guess, she probably moved the complete opposite way, much to your delight.
Now, you don’t think of her when you’re out on the water, you don’t think of her when you smell her favorite sunscreen. She’s still a memory, of course, and if she called you today saying she needed you to fix her bike or sell her a new board, you would. But that would be the end of it. 
You’ve taught yourself what it means to be loved by yourself, and yourself alone… knowing that at the end of the day, you’re the one that has to comfort yourself to sleep, and no one is going to love you more than you. It’s fucking corny, you know, thinking of life in that way. But it makes sense, and fuck, if it isn’t liberating.
Life’s peaceful air feels different now. Even surfing feels more fulfilling than it ever has. You’re headstrong, you’re confident. You feel like you’ve gained more knowledge and wisdom from owning this business than you ever thought you would, all in part to the memory of your dad, and what would have made him proud. 
Even Scotty is proud of you, your best friend on earth. The two of you together are a force, bringing in more money to the company than it had ever seen before. You’d never tell anyone that, though. And you’ll never flaunt it. 
You’ll just sit at Donovan’s every night in your bar stool beside the ice machine, laughing with Scotty as you scream Sweet Caroline, and drink anything but scotch.
◇ ◇ ◇
xoxoxo J
@wetkleenex-gvf @britney-gvf @gretas-sweat @josh-iamyour-mama @highway-tuna @bestfriendsallstrungout @jjwasneverhere @gretavanbrie @writingcold @thewritingbeforesunrise @myleftsock @edgingthedarkness @its-interesting-van-kleep @jjsooobsessed @ageofcj @starcatcher-jake @capnjaket @cozyjakey @jakekiszkapunchmeintheface @stardustjake @dancingcarbon @builtbybrokenbells @gretavangroupie
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mysteryideasgroup · 1 month ago
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MSA X TMNT 2012: Within The Woods: Leo, Carol, Sammy and Lulu fighting Creep and 2 Creep Monsters
-- Abandoned Cabins --
Aurora: Ugh... Where are we? ... ?! Wait...! 4 medicines to them!? They are not good!
Varian: !? We are remembering that Creep and 3 Creep Monsters are now 2 left!
Vicki: !? Wait...! It’s 3 have into plants!? Wait... Oh my God! It’s Aaron, Albert, Alden!!! We need to get out of here!
Aaron, Albert, and Alden have turned plants by Creep and 3 Creep Monsters to suck them out of lives to leave their belongs!
Velma is furious at Creep and 2 Creep Monsters!
Velma: You are a MONSTER! They are MONSTERS! They sucked out of my FRIENDS!
Someone called: HELP! HELP!
Creep and 2 Creep Monsters to see to go to them.
Aurora: ! I’m realizing that Leo, Carol, Sammy, and Lulu!
Creep and 2 Creep Monsters are found out that they can rescue them from Creep and 2 Creep Monsters. They see Leo, Carol, and Sammy have their Ninja Gears, and Lulu has her Skeleton Ghost Skeleghost form after 3 months of recovering.
Leo: Get me back, my family and friends from Freak!
Carol: My family are staying away from you a monster!
Sammy: They are back to me from you monster creep!
Lulu: Give them back, my Family and Friends... from YOU!
Rest of the Survivors of Mystery Teams, TMNT Teams, THNT Teams, and TWNT Teams have Mistress Chelsea and Master Haruki need to sneak to free Mystery Teams to escape from Creep and 2 Creep Monsters.
Sarah: Guys! Gals! They're right? Oh my god... What happened to them?
Chelsea: What’s going on? They end here?
Haruki: ! Not good... What happened to them and my friends?
Aurora: True, it's a long story. Better get out of here!
Vera: It's Aaron, Albert, Alden. Long story. Quick, get us out of here!
[Sarah, Chelsea, and Haruki cuts them out, until the Creep and 2 monsters comes back.]
Both: Aah!
[They block the door so the Creep can't get in until it bursts through the walls, making them scream. Casey howls like a wolf and starts to whack it with his stick, but the Creep grabs it and breaks it.]
Casey: Aw, dude!
Mikey: Booyakasha!
[Mikey used his nunchucks while the others started to stab him as worms and moss flew everywhere, until Casey bashes its head in with a shovel.]
Vivi: Aah! Take that! Ugh!
[They take a break from their attack, but The Creep wakes up, before bursting free. Now enraged, The Creep furiously knocks April and Casey to the wall. He literally threw Donnie, the Mystery Teams and Mikey out of his shack. The Creep grabs his arm and puts it back into his body. Leo looks at the vial and holds it to the Creep. He gives it to April and runs. She gives it to Donnie. Donnie quickly gives it to Mikey. Mikey quickly gives it to Raph who gives it to Sarah, who gives it to Vera, etc.]
Chelsea: Not touching my children and friends from you!
Haruki: Right... We need to defend 3 monsters!
Serene with a medical vial threw her friends quickly to them too
April: Casey, grab the chains!
[Nodding affirmatively, Casey grabs the chains. Donnie, Mikey and the Mystery Teams keep the vials away from The Creep and 2 Monsters, while Leo grabs the pitchfork. Fed up, The Creep starts to restrain Mikey with its vines, allow it to retrieve the vial. Donnie then launches Leo, who dives at the beast and breaks the vial with the pitchfork, before pinning it up against a tree. The others started to chain him up.]
Mystery Teams are defending 2 Monsters that used unpowered to kill us by using fires, ices, and electrics. They used to unmutanted 2 creep monsters.
Casey: [Taunting the Creep in revenge.] That's what you get for messing with my mask, freak.
Lulu: That should hold them. Now, come on. We gotta get them back to the lab.
Leo: You two really think you can save them?
Donnie: Honestly, we don't know, Leo. We just don't know.
Asahi: Right, they are back to farmhouses.
----
For @laurasanchezmlp
AUs Alternate Universes CUs Crossovers Universes belongs to me 
All belongs to my MSA ocs sonas and my New MSA ocs sonas, (my MSA X TMNT ocs sonas and my New MSA X TMNT ocs sonas)
All belongs to her MSA ocs sonas and her New MSA ocs sonas, (her MSA X TMNT ocs sonas and her New MSA X TMNT ocs sonas)
Mystery Skulls Animated MSA belongs to Ben and MysteryBen27 of YouTube YT Series Shows 
TMNT belongs to Kevin Eastman and Peter Laird
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blackwolfstabs · 9 months ago
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MASTERLIST (BWS) 🩶
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SCREAM ❤️
"you're my good girl." | sam carpenter x richie kirsch 30 Day Writing Challenge | carpenter sisters based if you love her | tara carpenter x chad meeks-martin your heart or mine | billy loomis x stu macher better than one | carpenter sisters run | sam carpenter, mindy meeks-martin, & kirby reed haunted | sam carpenter, christina carpenter, & tara carpenter fall for those eyes | sam carpenter & tara carpenter shadow | billy loomis & sam carpenter same old boy, same sweet girl | sam carpenter x danny brackett
the wolves of woodsboro | sam carpenter & billy loomis ─ chapter I ─ chapter II ─ chapter III
WEDNESDAY 💜
one normal night | wednesday addams x fem!reader out of the woods | goody addams x werewolf!oc male
ABIGAIL 🩷
would you tell her I did my side of the dance? | ana lucia cruz (joey) & abigail ─ chapter I
everything has your memory | ana lucia cruz (joey) & abigail
MY HEADCANONS 🩵
the carpenter sisters
pt. i dual hcs pt. i werewolf!sam & tara | request
team loomis
"for shits and giggles" | request
sam x danny
sam x danny hcs pt. i | request
x readers
sfw/nsfw sam x hyper gf & x dark gf | anonymous request sam carpenter x reader // "can i um... feel your muscles?" | request
abigail
werewolf!rat pack | request frank x joey | request joey | request wolf!frank & wolf!joey | request wolf!sammy & wolf!joey | request
SONG REWRITES 🖤
who she sees in me | “the man he sees in me” (sam’s version)
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laura-the-yellow-cat · 2 months ago
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MSA X TMNT 2012: Within The Woods: Searching in Forest Everywhere
**they are searching in the forest everywhere**
**but then, the creep and 3 monsters grabs john kingsmen and others are captured, but maisy pepper, sarah and laura are survived from getting captured**
Maisy: Big sis!
Laura and Sarah: **gasp** Oh gosh no!
John Kingsmen and others: Leo, Carol, Sammy, Lulu, Are You Guys? HEEEEEEEELP!
Leo, Lulu, Sammy and Carol: Guys! **are going to rescuing their friends and families**
*Leo, Lulu, Sammy and Carol are fought the creep and 3 monsters rescuing their friends and families**
Maisy: **was starting to be brave and holds axe** Get your filthy-monkey hands off my sister, cera!
1 Monster: Uh oh!
Maisy: **using axe and fought 1 monster**
**then 1 monster was defeated**
Maisy: **saves and holds cera** Cera, are u okay?
Cera: Yep, i'm fine
Leo: Is everyone okay?
Lewis, Vivi, Arthur, Daniela, Mystery, Sarah, Laura and others: Yep, we're okay
Leo: John, what happen?
John: I just remember that creep and his monsters grabs us all
Laura: But Sarah, Maisy and I are jumped from getting captured
Cera: Yeah, I saw my little sister, Maisy was very brave
Donnie: I Agree
Raph and Mikey: Us too
**They are keeping going to searching in forest**
For @sfcabanasstarcgs and @mysteryideasgroup
AUs Alternate Universes Crossovers belongs to @sfcabanasstarcgs and @mysteryideasgroup
All her MSA ocs sonas and her New MSA ocs sonas, (her MSA X TMNT ocs sonas and her New MSA X TMNT ocs sonas) belongs to @sfcabanasstarcgs and @mysteryideasgroup
All my MSA ocs sonas and my New MSA ocs sonas, (my MSA X TMNT ocs sonas and my New MSA X TMNT ocs sonas) belongs to me
Mystery Skulls Animated MSA belongs to Ben and MysteryBen27 of YouTube YT Series Shows 
TMNT belongs to Kevin Eastman and Peter Laird
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thatweirdocryptid · 1 year ago
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Welcome to Crypt bar, what can I get ya?
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Hello dear friends, mutuals and many others! I am thatweirdocryptid or who you may call, Cryptid, Cry, or Ray!
I am a dragon enthusiast, cryptid enthusiast, and dca enthusiast.
I watch the Sun and Moon show, Lunar and Earth show, and a tiny bit of Monty and Foxy show.
I enjoy making AUs (specifically dca) and OCs, though I rarely ever show any.
I have a character . Ai account under the same name, thatweirdocryptid.
And I do have a YouTube account, but I only have one video posted, which is a speedpaint of a drawing I did not too long ago, and I plan to make mostly gacha videos on said account as I do not know how to animate but I wish I did.
I am learning to horse ride currently, and I cosplay as my own characters at times.
I love ren faires abd I've been to 4 so far, and I wish to go to a con soon!
Now, time for oc lore!
Commonly known as Ray; Ray is a demonic cryptid who tends to the bar in the cryptid world called "The stone crypt".
Ray worked there for god knows how long, but for cryptids like them, it would be only around 20 years for cryptids, while it's be around 100-204 years for humans.
They have an odd collection of animal bones from the human world abd likes to study humans.
In the cryptid world, gold is easy to come by, which is the reason why it's their currency, and sometimes, cryptids prefer living in the human world for better food, but some cryptids are banished.
But ever since Cryptid hunters started to pop up more often and kill off more cryptids, they prefer now to stay in their world.
every cryptid knows of what they are... But not Ray... Ray doesn't know what cryptid they are, hell they never seen a cryptid with blue eyes just like them, they sometimes feel like they don't belong.
They go to the human world sometimes to get rare ingredients in their world, as making drinks and selling it is entirely legal in the cryptid world.
They do not know of their other abilities, examples like flight and other abilities you all will find out :³
They like to go to the library, and sometimes reads books for hours, Mostly for trying to find out what cryptid they are.
And they were adopted by two gay mothmen :³
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Sammy! Ray's love intrest! Just a widdle ol' cryptid hunter!
Sammy was born in South Carolina, and lived near the small town of Fairplay, his family owning a farm with cows, chickens, and horses.
Sammy, when growing up, spend a lot of time in the woods, and one night, Sammy saw two strange glowing blue eyes, with grey little pupils.
Sammy wouldn't see those eyes for a long long time, and encountered many cryptids.
He got his scar from a rough fall, and had t9 go to the hospital for a couple of weeks.
And never knew, a certain cryptid, fell in love.
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the-s1lly-corner · 6 months ago
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KND OC LORE ARCHIVE
Personal thing for me to keep track of what lore and hcs i post, feel free to look. or dont, i really dont care either way since this is just me tracking stuff. some writing may change, not a lot of lore stuff is set in stone! using ex as a prefix for ocs that were once operatives but arent anymore, since the lore spans over 20+ years in universe also in the case where i tag artsts for... art... let me know if you want me to remove the tag!
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ROSE WOOD/ex-NUMBUH 246
Original lore dump
Fun facts 1
Silly oc x canon art by @rejaytionships
Rose fluff alphabet (request)
About Rose's son
Rose/Davis/Benedict drama lore thing I promise it's relevant to character stuff, mostly for the ocs not so much Ben
Music shitpost
Aforementioned R/D/B conflict art by @linneastarron
Rose x canon relationship web v.1
JAMIE ROBINSON/ex-NUMBUH 165
Rose music playlists
Yummy delicious rose and arnie x father art by @rejaytionships
LORE COMING
KIMMY WILSON/ex-NUMBUH 162
LORE COMING
SAMMY JONES/NUMBUH 527
LORE COMING
DAVIS PETERSON/ex-NUMBUH 129
LORE COMING
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babeyvenus · 1 year ago
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My Future
Derek Hale x OC
Samantha, Stiles and Scott are always joking about the impossible. Who wouldn't when your best friend's dad is the sheriff of Beacon Hills? All jokes stop when they realize the impossible is indeed possible.
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Chapter 68: Bleeding Brother
A/N: gonna be a spam of chapters bc I think it's about time. Feedback always welcome!
As the four headed back to Scott's house, they were debating on whether or not to call Stiles and tell him about what had happened with the possibility of killing a Hellhound.
It made no sense to either of them as to what was going on, and Stiles was the brains of the pack.
But…
Scott sits down on the edge of his bed, glaring at his phone screen as he looks at the voicemail Stiles had sent him moments ago.
Malia and Lydia sit down beside him as Sam paces, still refusing to ruin Stiles' time where he was.
Scott was in a limbo. He knows his best friend wanted the best for Stiles, but they also needed him too. Scott’s voice is hesitant as he calls out to Sam. “Sam–”
She fixed him with a widened eyed look and pointed at him with a snap. “You call him and I'm snatching your damn fingers. The boy deserves a break. It's enough that he's already had the responsibility of being the sheriff's son, but being here hasn't been too kind for him in the past couple of years. He finally has a chance to just do him.", she rambled.
She'd finally stopped pacing, her shoulders sagged. She frowned sadly, as she remembers all the times he was in danger. “We almost lost him. Again and again and again. I'm not risking it anymore.”
Scott frowns, but nods in agreement. However… “If this turns out to be something big, and we don’t call him…”
Sam sits by the bed, letting out a sigh. "I know. He won't like it. But it'd be worth it if he won't get hurt."
Malia looks between the three and shrugs as she speaks. “Maybe we should go back to the woods tonight and find the killer?”
Lydia sighs and turns her attention to Scott. “Scott…”
He frowns and looks at his phone. “You guys didn’t hear his voice. He sounded really excited to be there.”
“And he should be. We shouldn't ruin that. Just play the damn voicemail.”, Sam said.
Scott presses the voicemail on his phone and plays it on speaker. “Hey, Scott. So, I’m here. I’m in Quantico, Virginia at the FBI. I’m at the fucking FBI! It’s real. I’m really here–”
The four smile at the sound of his voice. “And I kinda told Lydia that I miss her and I can’t wait to get home, but listen, Scott…"
They all sigh.
Scott frowns. "Whatever you’re doing right now, either of you, just make sure you’re still getting out of Beacon Hills. I mean, maybe you think you can’t leave, you know, like the whole thing falls apart if you’re not there, which, I get… but you have to. I know you’re supposed to drive out tonight, so, if you don’t call me back, just promise me you’re actually going. Just get in the Jeep and go. If you have to drag Sammy out of there, you do it. I know she won't leave. Not if she's still waiting for that stupid sourwolf.", Stiles says, making Sam roll her eyes.
"Alright, later man, I’ll talk to you soon.”
Scott turns off his phone. “We’ll try to figure this out, find Argent, maybe this won't all be something big and we can just tell him when it’s over.”, he said with hope.
Sam frowned. “Let's… give it a couple of days. Maybe a week and if it all goes to shit, we’ll call him.”
Scott stands up with a sigh. “Then, let's head back to the woods.”, he said and the girls nod.
After arriving at the preserve, they look around.
"So what else could we look for?", Malia asks Scott, but he doesn't answer.
The girls frown at him. "Scott.", Lydia called. Suddenly, Scott runs off as if he was chasing something. The girls look at each other before running after him.
Malia pants, "We can still catch him." They catch up to him and Scott turns to them, confused. “Catch who?”
Sam looks at him with furrowed eyebrows as she catches her breath. Malia frowns and shares a look with Lydia. “The killer. What were you thinking about?”, Lydia asks.
Scott holds up the bullet casing in between his fingers. “Getting the bullet to Argent.”
“Even if he’s the one who fired it?”, Malia asks and he nods. “Especially if he’s the one.”
Scott turns away and freezes as if he is on high alert. “Do you hear that?”, he asks, looking at Malia and Sam.
They nod. “Heartbeats.” Sam feels for any presences and frowns at the familiarity of them. Before she could speak up, panic struck on Scott’s face. “A lot of them. They’re coming.”
Lydia and Malia frown at him. “Who?”
Scott turns back to where he heard the heartbeats.“Hunters – run!”
Scott takes off running, leaving the girls in confusion before taking off after him. “Scott, wait! Scott!”, Malia yelled.
He ignored their calls and seemed to run faster. As they try their best to catch up, they're met with deputies with their guns drawn and flashlights beaming at a pair of bodies on the ground.
The girls' eyes widened as they took in the sight of Scott and Noah.
Noah lifts one of his hands towards the Deputies and warns, “It’s okay. Everybody, stay back. it’s just a kid.”
As they got closer, they could hear one of the female deputies ask, “What’s wrong with his eyes?”
“Shit.”, Sam mutters and moves up to the two. Parrish's order rings clear, “You heard the Sheriff, stand down!”
Sam kneels next to Scott, giving an apologetic look to the sheriff before taking Scott's hands who looks at her with embarrassed expression. He was still struggling to get his breathing and pounding heart in check. “Deep breaths, Scotty. You remember?", Sam asked.
Scott swallowed and nodded, following their traditional technique. Once he calmed down, she looked at him and gave him a nod. "What happened back there?”, Noah asked.
They help Scott stand up and Sam looks at the sheriff. "There's…something we need to show you."
They head back through the preserve towards the area where they found the dead body of the hellhound.
They show the body to Noah, Parrish and a few other deputies who search around the crime scene, looking for any more clues.
Scott turns to Noah, embarrassed. “I’m really sorry.”
Noah dismissed it with a smile and a shake of his head. He didn't blame the boy for a freakout. So long as he wasn't committing mass murder, that is. 
Sam frowns as she looks at Parrish. “How much you think they saw?", she asked, nodding over to the deputies. Parrish shrugs. “No more than they’re used to.”
Noah crosses his arms. “I still wanna know what happened.”
“He’s a Hellhound.”, Parrish explains, pointing at the body. Malia clarifies. “A dead Hellhound.”
Lydia frowns at her as the sheriff shakes his head. “Yep, got that.”
Parrish frowns. “Well, I don’t get it. I didn’t think you could kill a Hellhound.”
Malia flicks her eyebrows up, unimpressed. “Looks a lot easier than we thought.”
A pause waves over them and the sheriff and deputy looked at them almost suspiciously.
Noah speaks up. "You got anything you wanna add?”
Scott fidgets but doesn't say anything. Sam rubs behind her neck. “We just didn't think any bullet was able to do that.”
Noah nods and Parrish frowns as he looks at the hellhound’s body once more. “I'd hope not.”
As they drove back to Scott's house, they all sighed. Lydia looks at Sam, frowning. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
Sam frowns and looks at Scott. “Why didn’t you say anything?”
Malia looks at all of them. “Why didn’t any of you say anything? Wait, was I supposed to say something?”
Scott frowned. “No. None of us said anything because it’s Argent, and he deserves a chance to tell us himself what’s going on.”
Sam looks at them. "So none of us are gonna say anything until we talk to him. For now, we'll just have to figure this shit out ourselves.”
Lydia and Malia look unsure but Lydia sighs. “As long as we talk to Argent soon.”
Sam frowns, tiredly. "Now would be preferable."
Scott rubs his hands over his thighs, raising his brows and nods. “Finding Argent is the first priority.”
Moments later, Lydia brings Sam over to the Sheriff's station after having to explain she had a premonition of Parrish. Their first plan was having to ask Parrish for access to the card readers because of the sound Lydia heard.
He agrees and helps them down to the holding cell area. Once they were there, Sam sighed as Lydia stared at the bars of the cell. “Is that it? The sound you heard?”, Parrish asked after sliding a key card.
She shook her head. “No, it’s something else.”
They left the holding cells and made their way through the station and into the bullpen where the other deputies were working.
Parrish sits on his desk, having Lydia and Sam stop in front of him. He frowns as he thinks out loud. “It could be any kind of public facility. Hospital, a fire station, or…”
Sam frowns deeply. “Or a mental institution.”
Parrish's head snaps up as he frowns at Sam. “No.”
“Eichen House.”, Sam muttered. Parrish sighs, shaking his head. 
Lydia gives him a grimace. “The card readers on the doors?” He nods. “It’s the Closed Unit.”
Parrish stands once more, giving the girls a firm look. “You’re not going back to Eichen, and you’re definitely not going anywhere near the Closed Unit.”
Lydia almost pouts but leans a little closer to him. “What if there’s a connection to the…” She lowers her voice. “Dead Hellhound?”
He immediately shakes his head anyway. “Absolutely not. What if you go there again and someone tries to kill you? Which seems to happen every time either of you go in there!”
Sam frowns. “It’s what we got right now.”
He frowns at her. “If I bring you anywhere near that place either the sheriff will kill me, Stiles will kill me or Derek.”
She raises an eyebrow. She expected the first two, but Derek?
Parrish catches onto her confusion. "He made it very clear, before he left, not to let you get into any more trouble while he was gone or anywhere near the Eichen House again. Said something about you being drugged or something…", he trailed off.
"Look, if you're so worried, then you can come with us.”, Lydia suggested. Parrish smiles and shakes his head while reaching over to his desk chair and grabs his jacket. “Or… I can go alone and the two of you can stay here in the nice, safe Sheriff’s station.”
Before he leaves, Sam walks up to him. "Hold on, Jordan.", she says and makes a motion for him to lower his head.
Confused, he does just that, only flinching once he feels a strand of hair being plucked from his head. His head snaps back up, frowning at the girl as he rubs the sore spot. "What was that for?"
She grins, "Gray hair."
He narrows eyes, slightly offended and leaves the girl at the station. Lydia looks at her. "It's not a gray hair.", she says and Sam gives her a unimpressed look with an eyebrow raised.
Looking around, Sam makes sure none of the other deputies were watching and makes a resin in the floor before putting Parrish's hair strand in the middle.
Once she placed a hand over the circle, the crescent moon appeared on her forehead, indicating that the linking spell worked.
Moments of waiting and they were getting nowhere. Hadn't heard from Parrish or anything.
However, Lydia's attention was gathered by a calendar reminder on her phone.
Last day to register for MIT– today, 6:00PM.
Sam frowns sadly as she looks at her friend who frowns as well. "You should've registered.", Sam mutters. Lydia looked at her.
Sam glanced at her. "Register for online classes, at least.", she said with a smile. She didn't want her friends to miss chances of their lives outside of Beacon Hills and its troubles.
Lydia smiles. "I'll do that." Before she could get another word out, she sat up straight, looking at a deputy placing her walkie talkie on a charger.
The girls share a look and Lydia gets up, sneaking over to the walkie talkie. Sam watches as the girl messes with the device, listening for whatever she was listening for.
Lydia raises the volume, and the sound of static enters the room from the device. The girls looked around to see if anyone was paying attention and no one was so Sam nodded at Lydia to continue.
In seconds, Sam's wrist felt like it was freezing as the small crescent moon appeared on her forehead once more. The girls looked at each other with wide eyes.
“Time to go.”, Sam mutters, leading Lydia out of the station.
Once they arrived to the Eichen House, Sam paused as she tried to sense where Parrish could've been. 
After a minute, it was faint, but she sensed him in a cell.
The moment they walk in there, she'd be powerless. The only thing she could think about was how they rushed in there to search for Stiles, only for him not to be there. To look for Lydia as she was getting tortured, only for Sam, Scott and Kira left Stiles and Lydia to look for Valack while the dread doctors tormented them with their presence.
Each time she remembered, she felt helpless. How the hell were they gonna get Parrish out?
Lydia notices the girl's hesitation and holds her hand. Sam's eyes locked onto Lydia who gave her a soft smile. "I got you."
Once the gate slammed behind them, Sam accepted her fate. There was no turning back as they entered the building.
As they walked the hallways for the closed unit, Sam made sure to keep Lydia close. Lydia was more bound to this place than she was and it'd hurt her if Stiles knew that she let Lydia get in trouble with the place.
However, the dark hallways were keeping her on edge. It wasn't easy to keep a brave face as they looked around.
“Why aren’t the lights on…?”, Lydia whispered as they looked at all the unlocked doors. If only it was that easy when they were trying to save her the first time.
"I'm not liking the looks of this, Lydia.", Sam muttered. They both jump at the sound of gates slamming behind them.
Lydia yells for Parrish but Sam glares at her. Her yelling was gonna give them away. Whoever was here obviously didn't want anyone down here. 
She wished she could just sense someone's presence. Even if it was just theirs.
Something.
It was better than nothing.
They pause as they hear a female voice. “It’s here."
“We should be killing them.”, another voice says.
“Wait!”, they heard Parrish yell before jumping at the sound of a loud, echoing gunshot ringing through the hallways.
The girls glanced at each other before sneaking to where the sound came from.
Their eyes widen as they see a doctor pointing a gun at Parrish's forehead, muttering that he didn't have to be afraid anymore.
Before he could pull the trigger, Lydia raised her arms and let out her banshee screech at the man, and sent him flying toward the wall of the cell, and fell to the ground, knocked out.
Sam rushed over to Parrish, taking in his state. He was freezing, just like how her wrist felt earlier. "You regret not letting us come with you now?", she asked, taking off her hoodie and wrapped it around him before helping him up.
"I-I had h-him…", Parrish weakly scoffs, but gives the girls an appreciative smile as they help him out of the institution.
After leaving the sheriff's department, Lydia and Sam drove back to Scott's house, finding out they had found Chris at a gun deal that he was supplying the entire time.
Chris informed Scott that he wasn't avoiding the teens, but had been busy providing and investing in gun sales.
It didn't make any sense, though. They hadn't seen any hunters in so long. The Argent clan practically stopped going after supernaturals in Beacon Hills ever since the incident in Mexico.
"Well…I asked him about the casing and he said he hadn't stamped a bullet since… y'know.", Scott explains, making Sam frown sadly.
It was understandable but still made no sense as to how the bullet was still stamped by his family's graving.
After Scott's explanation, Lydia and Sam inform them about what had happened to Parrish and Dr. Fenris.
Scott and Malia's eyes widened. “He killed every supernatural in the Closed Unit? All of them?”
The girls nodded. Lydia shrugged her shoulders. “He said he couldn’t see it any other way.” 
Sam frowned. “Apparently, he was so angry because he struggled to "protect the world" from the things in the closed unit and decided he shouldn’t cage the supernatural and then killed them so humanity wouldn't be afraid anymore.”
Malia scoffs. “Well, I’ve got another way. You don’t kill everyone.”
“He was afraid.”, Lydia frowns. It made a little sense. “The wolves, the rats. Everything links back to fear.”
Scott frowns in thought. “But what is everyone afraid of?” In a second, Scott takes the casing out of his pocket, frowning sadly. “…Us.”
He placed the bullet on the kitchen island and drums his fingers on the island. “We don’t know what fear would do to somebody. I mean, it can change them. They’ll look at us differently. They’ll do things that they’ve never done before.”
Malia frowns in frustration. “People can be so stupid.”
Lydia shakes her head. “They’re not stupid, they’re scared.” 
Sam stares at the bullet. “And when people are scared, they'll do things way beyond their expectations."
The next day, Scott informed the three of Brett's assault, and was introduced to Brett’s sister, Lori, who was already waiting for them. The girl informed them that she had found a bloody lacrosse stick by Brett’s car.
Mason and Liam showed up with each other along with Lydia and Malia.
After they discuss their plans, Lydia speaks of hers. “I’ll stay here and try to see if I can get anything.”
Scott, Malia, and Sam nod.
Mason jabs a thumb over his shoulder toward the school. “Corey is in a study group so we can stay with Lydia, we can – you know, try to be helpful?”, Mason suggests, much to Lydia's surprise.
She shrugs. “Fine, meet me in the Chemistry classroom.”
They walk to the school while the other 5 move to where Lori saw her brother's blood. “His blood is over here.” Liam nods, jogging over to her “Let's go.”
They follow the blood trail into the preserve with Liam leading ahead. He stops at a tree with an arrow in it and lifts his hand up to the end of the arrow, turning and aiming his arm from where the arrow was shot. “Here.”
The older four watch, catching onto his line of sight. Suddenly, Sam hears a crunch under her foot and steps back to see a black phone that Lori picks up. She looks at Sam. “It’s his.” 
The boys look at the phone. Liam frowns, “I think he set a trap.” Scott gains a look of agreement on his face. “He’s fighting back.”
"And now we know he’s alive.”, Sam says.
Lori turns towards the tree, looking around frantically. “But he’s still hurt. We need to find him. He needs to know we’re here,” she says, worriedly. In a beat, she takes a deep breath in and turns towards the preserve, making Malia's eyes widen as she stops her. “You want the hunter to know we’re here, too?”
Sam frowns as she senses another presence. "She's right. It's not a smart move. Could be a setup for the rest of us."
Liam shakes his head. “He’s new ��� we can take him.”
Malia turns to the boy. “What if Brett howls back? He’ll lead the hunter right to him.”
Scott shakes his head. “No, we could find him first. There’s no human that can track sounds faster than we can, and we’ve got the advantage. We’ve done this before. We know what we’re doing, guys.”
Malia's eyebrows furrowed as she looked around. “How come I can’t catch his scent?”
“He’s masking it.”, Lori explains. Malia grumbles “Can someone tell him not to?”
Liam walks past them, pointing to the ground a few feet away from them. “He went this way.”
He takes off down the trail. "Liam–!", Sam calls before chasing after him with Lori, Scott and Malia.
They stop after a moment, catching their breath. Malia places her hands on her hips “The trail’s gone.”
“Uh, maybe he just stopped bleeding?”, Scott suggests.
“Guys, I think we should split up. Lori and I go this way, you guys go that way.”, Liam says. Lori speaks up. “Or maybe we go in five directions?”
Sam frowns. “Yeah, no.”
“Sam, we have a better advantage. it’s five against one.”, Liam frowns. “This isn't a 5v1 game, Liam. If we split up, only one of us is taking him on.”, Sam says.
Liam frowns. “I’ve been doing this the past three months without your guys’ help. I think I can make a decision.”, he says, making Sam raise her eyebrows at his boldness.
“Well, if you’re deciding to do something stupid and die, then go ahead.”, Malia huffs, making Sam give her an unimpressed look. “It’s one hunter – one amateur – who doesn’t know what they’re doing.”
Scott kneels on the ground, moving some dirt around and revealing footprints in the mud underneath. “Scott?”, Sam calls.
Liam looks at footprints. “The hunter.. he’s covering his tracks.”
“There’s another.”, Scott informs as he moves more dirt that was moved over to cover the other set of prints.
Malia gets closer. “Two of them?”
“Probably more.”, Sam huffs. The feeling of being scouted even with her detection didn't settle her at all.
Lori looks at Scott. “How many hunters have you seen out here before?”
Scott looks at her. “…a lot.”
Sam frowns at Liam. “Still think it's a good idea to split up?”
Almost pouting, Liam looks at her. “We can deal with it later. We just need to find Brett’s trail.”
Lori shook her head and pointed at a stack of rocks. “No, we don’t. Rock balancing – Satomi taught us. It’s him, and I know where he’s going.”
Lori led them toward the balancing stack of rocks. There was a grate covered by a fallen bushy tree branch, and they climbed down into the tunnels.
After making their way in the tunnels, they found puddles of black liquid, easily resembling black blood. Lori kneels down and swipes her fingers through one of the puddles, letting out a sigh as she turns back to them. “He’s been poisoned.”
“That’s why he’s not healing.”, Scott said, dreadfully.
"I don't think we'll make it to Deaton's.", Sam mutters to Scott.
"What if he only has a few hours to live?”, Lori asks with wide eyes. Sam sighs and looks at her packmates.
Liam frowns, “Well, if we howl, we can find him.”
“That’s too risky.”, Malia counters. Lori frowns at her. “Who cares about the risk? He could be dying.”
Malia turns to Lori. “He’s still moving.”
Scott looks at Sam and she closes her eyes before taking a knee and placing her hand on the ground. If she could feel where Brett is, it'll probably give them an indication of how long he has.
Scott sighs as he watches her. “We just need time to think.” Sam looks at him with furrowed eyebrows. "I can't concentrate under pressure.", she warned.
Lori frowns at Scott. “I need him to know that I’m here, that I’m coming for him.”
Liam looks at Scott. “Yeah, Lori’s right. He has to know we’re here!” He turns back to the black trail and takes a deep breath in.
“Liam, wait!”, Malia yells, but Liam ignores her, roaring down the tunnel.
The silence they heard unsettled them. "Shit.", Sam muttered. They continued down the hall, worriedly.
“Why didn’t he answer…?”, Lori asks. Liam grimaced. “Maybe – maybe he didn’t hear us…”
Sam frowns at him. “Well, I got two solutions. Maybe he's too weak to give a howl or he's been caught. Y'know, by the hunters that's out here??"
Before Liam could retaliate, Scott yells. “Lori, no!” The rest saw Lori's legs walking into a tripwire.
Sam grabs Liam and Malia, after hearing a clicking noise, pulling them back from where she assumed the trap would've come from but her eyes widen once she hears Scott groan. She, Liam and Malia see him hit the wall and let out gasping breaths.
Scott lifts his hands to his stomach where a metal pipe impales him.
Malia and Liam rush over to grab at the end of the pipe, slowly trying to remove it from his body, finally getting it out. Scott lets out a loud groan as he slides down the wall.
Sam walks over to the pipe and sees spikes on the pipe, resembling a mace. "They planned this.", she mutters, looking at the three in front of her. Scott nods, gritting his teeth in pain. “They knew we were coming.”
Malia kneels beside him. “Don’t talk. Just heal and let us figure this out.”
“They’ve been a step ahead of us the whole time.”, Scott growls, holding his stomach in pain. Sam walks over to him, placing her glowing hands over his stomach. "Stop talking, you'll make it worse.", she scolds gently as her arms fill with pain.
Lori frowns sadly, glancing between Scott and down the tunnel. “I’m sorry, but I can’t wait around… we have to go.”
Sam glares at the girl.
Liam nods. “We still have the numbers. Four to two. We’re faster, and we’re stronger. We can take them."
"We'd be faster if she hadn't walked into a tripwire.", Sam growls. She winces, but Scott grabs her hand. "I'll be fine.", he says, trying to get her to stop.
He tries to sit up properly. “They’re smarter too.”
“I don’t care who’s smarter, or faster, or whatever. My brother’s going to die.”, Lori says. Sam turns to her once again. “You have no idea what the hell you're getting yourself into. This isn't just some coincidence. This was planned. Elaborate.”
Sam looks at Scott. "This sounds like something the Argents would do." Scott frowns in realization. He couldn't deny that. They've been through situations like this too long to not know.
Liam looks at Sam. “But they’ve never fought us before.”
“You never from them before.", Sam says. "You’ve never fought hunters, Liam. We need to stick together.”, Scott reminds. Lori shakes her head. “I need to go.”
Liam stops her. “No, you’re not going alone. I’ll go with you."
Sam stands, stopping him. “And how are you gonna do that? Again, you haven't fought any hunters. So what's your plan?”
Liam frowns sadly. “Look, Sam. I know who we are. And we never give up. Especially when it’s someone innocent. When it’s someone alone. When it’s one of our friends.”
Sam frowns at him. "Yeah, against anyone other than hunters. These hunters are way smarter. I just feel like we're running head first into their traps. Picking us off one by one and then what? How're we gonna save Brett?"
She sighs once he gives her an almost pouting look. "Fine. I'll go with you."
Scott nods. “All of you go. I’ll catch up.”
Scott tries to stand, groans and falls back onto the ground, letting out a huff. “I just need a minute.”
Malia looks at Sam. “You go, I’ll stay with him.”, she says.
Sam nods, "Just…stay safe. I'll know if something happens.", she says and leaves with Liam and Lori.
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shadowfox-13 · 2 months ago
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Hi I made another Welcome Home OC. This is Sammy Shade, an unused character for the welcome home tv show.
During the time when he was on the show, Sammy was supposed to be good friends with Eddie and Frank. However, the writers didn’t use him in episodes often, and he was eventually cut from the show. His puppet was in the middle of being built when Sammy’s character was scrapped, but instead of scrapping his puppet, the puppeteers kept it to test new ideas on.
Being a test dummy of sorts eventually led to Sammy’s mouth being sewn shut, so he can no longer speak. During this time when he wasn’t used in the show, his memories of the neighborhood began to disappear.
Somehow, Sammy recently appeared in the woods surrounding the neighborhood, very shortly after Halloween. People have seen him, but he hasn’t spoken to or approached anyone since he returned to the neighborhood…
I have two more ocs to share so there will be more lore soon :)
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loosee-goosey · 10 months ago
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cant go back on your deals
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lestweforget5 · 2 months ago
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Yay! For the OC ask game, 25 & 26?
Hello, Nonnie! Thank you for the ask!
#25 -- how do they move? are they clumsy? light on their feet? do they use mobility aids?
Economical would probably be a good way of describing Millie’s movements before Munster. Repeated long days with less sleep than ideal means she’s often tired, so, on duty, she’s not wasting energy running for things like she’s a kid again … unless it’s urgent. If she’s off-duty and wants to play with Meatball or the boys or one of her fellow female airmen, she doesn’t particularly care if she’s exhausted by the end. Growing up on a farm and traipsing around the woods, you’d have to be pretty steady on your feet or you’d risk getting hurt. Millie’s not going to be walking on top of a fence as a stunt, but she can jump down from a B-17 wing without a hand and not fall flat on her face or her rear, as a result. Millie only uses mobility aids after Munster where her right leg is crippled. She uses crutches until after her leg heals following surgery in America to reset the bones correctly after her repatriation. After that point, she is primarily able to walk with just a cane, although her crutches are still tucked away for use on bad days.
#26 -- if applicable, do they have a favorite sport? do they play any sports or prefer to watch?
Millie does not really have a favorite sport. She’ll happily play catch with the other girls at Thorpe Abbotts or Billy and Sammy or the mechanics and enjoy it, but she does not particularly care about baseball or have the time to devote to following a multi-hour game. At most, she might have a vague interest in who wins.
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madssaunders111 · 11 months ago
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Injury || Sammy Lawrence x OC (Joey Drew’s daughter)
Word count: 1744 words
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Amandine Drew sat in the front seat of her father's car. They were driving to the animation studio on the other side of town.
"So, tell me again why we are doing this?" Amandine asked.
"Because it'll be nice for you to see your old man in action." Joey Drew ran a hand through his blonde hair.
"I've been there before though."
"Yes, when you were younger, a child." Joey glared at Amandine through the corner of his eye. "Everyone wants to see how well you've grown, especially Sam."
Amandine scoffed. "Sammy Lawrence?"
"Yes, him." Joey pulled the car into the underground parking garage. "Well, we're here." Amandine opens her car door and starts to walk away.
As she sees the entrance to the studio, memories flood her mind. The last time she accompanied Joey to work was when she was five years old. But now, she was twenty one, sixteen years had passed.
"It looks the same." She commented before Joey opened the studio door leading her in. Her eye drifted everywhere, the Bendy cutouts, the projector in the main room and employees sitting at their desks in their offices.
Joey placed his hand on Amandine's back leading her to a small office to the left. A brunette man was sitting straight while sketching a crooked smile. Joey tapped the man's shoulder snapping him out of his work-induced trance. "Henry, you remember my daughter Amandine right?"
Henry Stein looked up from his work and turned his chair around. His brown eyes looked into Amandine's blue ones. "Yes, of course, hello again Amandine. Wow, have you grown."
"It's only been sixteen years since I was last here."
"Sixteen? Holy hell, you're quite the woman now, I see."
"Twenty one and thriving."
"Excellent."
Joey turned to Amandine and opened his mouth. "Amandine, why don't you look around the studio while Henry and I talk business, okay?"
"Okay." Amandine said before walking away.
~~~
As Amandine explored, she saw a black haired woman writing something at her desk. She rose her fist to the door and knocked. Through the window, she noticed an Alice Angel cutout leaning against the wall. She was the voice actress for Alice.
"Come in." The woman's voice was soft but seductive.
"Susie?" Amandine asked.
Susie Campbell turned around. "Oh my days! Amandine Drew?" She stood up, walked over to her and held the Drew woman close. "How are you? How long has it been?"
"Sixteen years."
Susie let out a soft gasp. "Sixteen years? You were five, so that means, you're..."
"I'm twenty one, twenty one and thriving." Amandine smiled brightly.
"Oh shush, I feels so old." Susie ran a hand through her dark curls. "Look at you, you're so beautiful, clearly you're Joey's daughter."
"And you're still Alice I see?" Amandine leaned against the wall observing the Alice Angel cutout.
"Oh yes, I actually had a wonderful lunch with your dad the other day, he has high hopes for me."
"I hope Alice is as popular as Bendy someday." Amandine commented.
"Funny how Sammy Lawrence said the same thing."
"Never doubt Sammy." Amandine squeezed Susie's hands. "He's usually never wrong."
She looked around Susie's office. Her fingers ran along the wood on the walls occasionally tapping her fingertips to various songs.
"So, is Sammy here?"
"Yep. Everyone is." Susie twirled her finger through a curl. "There's a new episode we're working on, nearly finished."
"Ooh, tell me." Amandine sat down on another chair beside Susie's desk.
"Well, Alice befriends Boris the Wolf, however...there's an Evil Alice."
"Twisted Alice." Amandine uttered.
"Yes. How did you know that?"
"I saw drafts on my dad's desk at home." Amandine cleared her throat. "She looked terrifying."
"Not to question your father, but does he really think adding evil characters will be best?"
"I question him all the time. And plus, kids love the happier side of Bendy and his friends."
"The happier side of Bendy sells more tickets, I agree." Susie picked up a sheet of paper. On it was a sketch of Alice wearing a black dress, and her black hair curled down to past her chest.
"You're still voicing Alice right?"
"Of course!"
"I'm going to head downstairs, see you Susie!"
"Bye, Amandine!" They hugged tightly before Amandine left the office.
"Nice lady."
~~~
Amandine continued walking through the halls before finding a room with a metal machine. Curiously, she approached it. The sign above it read: INK MACHINE
As she approached the break room next door, she noticed six pedestals, six objects on them: A music disc, a bottle of ink, Joey Drew's original memoir The Illusion of Living, a gear, a wrench and a squeaky Bendy doll.
She picked up the Bendy doll and squeezed it. The doll squeaked and a smile lifted on her lips.
As she put the doll back down, a man walked in.
"Amandine Drew? Is it really you?"
She turned around and saw Jack Fain, the lyricist standing in front of her.
"Jack Fain? The lyricist? Is that really you?" She asked in the same tone as Jack.
Jack Fain was a tall man who wore grey trousers with red suspenders, a white button up shirt, orange vest, brown bow tie and bowler hat.
"It's been so long since Joey brought you here." Jack hugged Amandine lightly.
"What is all of this?" Amandine gestured around the room.
"Curtesy of your father. He's lost his mind." Jack explained as he looked at the ink machine and the pedestals. Candles covered the room.
"T-this wasn't here last time."
"A lot has changed in sixteen years, Amandine." Jack paced around the room.
"What about...everyone else?" Amandine picked up the doll.
"Sammy Lawrence is...devoted to...Bendy."
"Bendy? What do you mean?"
"He prays to him, sends offerings, draws pentagrams everywhere."
"Offerings? Like what?"
"Bacon soup cans."
"I need to see this for myself." Amandine walks out of the break room and opens a door which leads to a staircase.
~~~
As she walks down it, bits of ink pour from the ceiling.
"Aah!" Amandine screamed as she tripped down the stairs. She landed at the bottom with the sound of a bone breaking echoing through the staircase. "Damn it! Son of a bitch!"
She looks up and sees a sign that says MUSIC DEPARTMENT. Also known as Sammy Lawrence's department.
As she slumped on the floor, her eyes started to close. Through her blurred vision, she saw a brunette man wearing yellow suspenders approach her.
Sammy Lawrence.
"Amandine Drew, so the rumours are true." He crouched down and saw Amandine's rapidly swollen and broken ankle. "God, what happened here?" His eyes then look at the slightly flooded stairwell. "Oh, that's why."
Amandine let out a quiet whimper and cry. Her eyes looked up at Sammy.
"S-Sammy?"
Sammy crouched down and picked her up. His hands were soft and held onto her tightly.
"Let me help you with that ankle of yours. It needs medical attention."
Amandine's eyes kept fluttering closed. Her hand rose to her pounding head.
"My head." She groaned. "Everything hurts."
"Easy there." Sammy leads her down to the studio's infirmary underneath the music department. "You're dizzy from the adrenaline, just lay back and keep still."
Sammy's soothing voice causes Amandine's panic to rise. Her eyes glared down at her ankle which was swollen and broken. A scream exited her lips.
"Shh, shh." A finger rose to Sammy's lips as he leaned down towards Amandine's face. "Quiet, it's okay. I'm here to take care of you."
"I thought you only worked on music."
"Well, I've taken up medical care as well."
Amandine swallowed nervously. Her fingers dwindled rapidly.
"S-so, Sammy, is it true...about Bendy?"
Sammy's face froze.
"What about Bendy?"
"That you pray to him? Worship him?"
"Who told you that?"
"Jack Fain, the lyricist."
"Well...he's not wrong." Sammy picked up gauze and a cast. "Bendy is my saviour."
Amandine swallowed nervously. As she opened her mouth, the only words she could muster were stutters.
"H-how did t-that come to be?"
"Well, when you create something, you believe in it. It can become real you know." Sammy started working on Amandine's ankle. "It could possibly start to claim you, possess you, take over."
"The soup cans?"
"I steal them from the back. Besides, not everyone is fond of bacon soup."
~~~
Amandine laid in the bed resting her ankle. Sammy wrapped it up and applied lots of heat and ice. As she looked around the infirmary, she noticed music playing.
Her hands reached for a pair of crutches beside the bed. She grabbed it and started limping towards the source of the music.
Her eyes glanced upon the sign on the wall that said RECORDING, and walked upstairs. The sign on the door said PROJECTIONIST BOOTH, OFFICE OF NORMAN POLK.
Amandine knocked on the door.
"Norman?" The crutches clicked against the wooden floor as Amandine leaned against them. The door opened a few minutes later showing a man wearing dark clothes.
His hair was matted to his head, glistened with water.
"Well, well, Amandine Drew. I thought I recognized you." Norman held his hand out for Amandine to take. "Come in, come in."
Amandine limped into the projectionist booth. Norman notices her injury.
"My, what happened to your ankle?"
"Stupid ink flooded the stairwell."
"Stupid ink machine." Norman muttered. "Always causing injuries and misfortunes."
"Does this ink machine...have to do with my father?"
"Yes, Joey installed it without any of us noticing." Norman explained as the projector started rolling. "After all, who needs that much ink anyway?"
"And the pedestals in the break room?"
"You saw those?"
Amandine nodded answering Norman's question.
"Well, Joey, has changed. He's gotten more...cautious about his leadership abilities. People have started to doubt him, I even heard someone might be getting fired."
"Fired? Why? Who?" Amandine's eyes widened in shock at Norman's statement.
"I wish I knew." Norman sighed before pulling out a chair for Amandine. "Anyway, sit, sit. That ankle must be killing you."
Amandine sat down and overlooked the balcony where the band sat on bunches of chairs playing instruments. In the recording booths, Amandine spotted Susie speaking into an overhead microphone.
As Amandine looked closer, she spotted wetness in the corner of Susie's eyes. Almost as if she was about to cry. A ticking went off in Amandine's head. Her eyes widened again.
"Oh no. I know who's getting fired."
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