#posting it from my phone for that extra crunch
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kingbeeleth · 6 months ago
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my favorite part of pokemon legeng egeg was when volo said its voloing time and volo'd everywhere very scayr
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k-hotchoisan · 2 months ago
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sticky web
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<yunho x fem!reader>
when the Spiderman movie night with Yunho has its sticky complications because you're in a spider suit for him.
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warnings: smut, pwp, suit fetish (kinda), reader is in a skin-tight venom suit, blow jobs, getting your lil suit dirty, unprotected sex, Spiderman movies and chill, Yunho fucking you through the suit, breeding kink
w/c: 2K
a/n: i'm posting this to appease my lovely readers (y'all) while I work thru your wonderful requests and my shitty writer's block )-: pls take this peace offering! <3 you know i love you guys sm 🩷 (also if you're wondering, spidey isn't my fav superhero but Dr Oct is one of my fav villains!!)
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“You're really gonna get him fucked up when he sees you in this”, your friend teases, zipping your body con suit up. “His own girlfriend? Dressing up in a venom suit?”  
You roll your eyes playfully. “It's a reminder that I'll be his little Symbiote.” 
You look over to the mirror, feeling slightly subconscious at how much the suit is just hugging your curves despite how impressively breathable it was. And the reminder that you weren't wearing it out, at least for now, comforted you, mostly because, well, you weren't really wearing anything underneath this body hugging attire.
You had invited Yunho over for a Spiderman movie marathon to spend the Friday night, and the way his eyes lit up when you did? It's the cutest thing ever. You did your best to boost the ambiance too–dying the popcorn with red and blue sugar dyes, making spider web and spider-shaped cookies alongside some crystal candy that fit the theme for that extra crunch.
The doorbell rings, and you jump immediately to answer it when your phone reflects the text of Yunho mentioning that he's reached. 
Unfortunately, you did severely underestimate the effect it had on Yunho, because the moment you opened the door, Yunho definitely got distracted, evident by the reddening of his ears when his gaze rests on your cute little costume. 
You did tell Yunho to come in costume too, and he definitely did–in a red and blue spiderman patterned hoodie and red shorts. 
“What? Don't you like my costume?” You poke for an answer, giving Yunho a full spin, missing the way Yunho swallowing hard, trying not to eye fuck you. 
“You're… definitely dressed for the part”, Yunho manages out, his slender fingers covering his lips and nose, hoping you don't realise that he's growing as red as his hoodie.
He watches the material hugging your body tug and fit you just right, pulling at just the right places corresponding to your movements, and his feels his fingers twitch. 
Yunho turns away, his attention on the assortment of food presented on the table. 
“Red and blue popcorn?” He questions with a raised eyebrow as he settles onto the couch.
“It's just sugar dye”, you assure, sliding next to him, picking up a kernel, pressing it against his lips, your other hand mimicking the same action but to your own lips. Yunho smiles as he chews, the sweetness spreading all over his taste buds. 
“What should we watch first? Should we start all the way from the first Spiderman movie?” You suggest flickering through all the Spiderman movies back to the first. Yunho nods in agreement, stuffing his mouth with a couple more colourful popcorn. Pressing play, you absentmindedly huddle yourself against your partner, not that he minded, and Yunho lets his hands curl around your waist. 
Yunho is engrossed in the first thirty minutes of the movie, periodically munching on the snacks as the flick plays. 
You're leaning lazily against his arm, letting Yunho feed you from time to time, mostly because you didn't want to get your costume dirty. 
He blinks, wondering if he saw wrongly–your nipples poking through the fabric.
You're not wearing a bra underneath or anything?
Yunho shakes the thought off, trying to focus on the movie. Unfortunately his peripherals can't help but betray him, ever so slightly always trailing back to you. 
You look up at him from below, and point to the popcorn. 
“Yu, I want one more”, you request. Of course your boyfriend would feed you another one. When his fingers linger a little too long on your lips, you realise that his eyes aren't on the screen. 
He's staring at you. 
“Someone’s distracted”, you point out with a smirk.
You straddle his lap. 
The movie is paused.
Yunho’s hands are running up your body, and even though it's separated by a layer of fabric, his touches give you goosebumps.
“I can't concentrate when you're looking like this”, he mutters to your lips, and you feel his palm grab a handful of your ass. 
“Then concentrate on this”, you redirect, pulling him into a dizzy kiss–one that's just filled with moans and teasing. The both of you taste sweet, thanks to the popcorn.
 You're rubbing against his erection while he dry fucks you, and you're both not lasting long. 
You climb off him and sink to face his thick erection. Soft sighs as vibrations through the fabric of his shorts make Yunho shiver too. You palm his little problem, and hearing him groan while spreading his legs open is enough to make you clench your thighs. 
Pulling his shorts down, your heartbeat accelerates at his fucking length–precum trickling down his bare cock, veins so thick and prominent.
Your tongue travels up his thick length, and your mind almost go dumb when you feel Yunho’s fingers tug against your scalp. You look up at him through your lashes, visually savouring the way he's getting undone with your lips around his cock, in his favourite costume. Yunho wants you to just choke you on his dick, maybe get his cum dripping down your tits on the tight fabric. 
He only grows bigger in your mouth at the perverted thought and the way your eyes are slowly watering from his dick reaching to the back of your throat? He's not lasting long.
“Shit, that feels so fucking good”, Yunho groans, throwing his head back, pushing your head deeper, enjoying the sick sounds of you choking. Your mind is flooded with how good Yunho feels and fills your mouth, and it’s making you soak through your costume. 
Yunho groans with every squeeze your throat gives him, pushing himself to hit the back of your throat.
“Gonna cum in your tight pretty mouth. You're gonna swallow it all, yeah?”
You nod quickly, trying to keep up the pace of him fucking your mouth. With a strained groan, his cock pulses in your mouth, warm cum seeping through, and it makes your mind so dizzy. 
“Open”, he instructs, and you do, letting some of cum sleep past the corner of your lips and down your throat, then down onto your tits. 
Yunho is getting harder.
Yunho grabs you and throws you over his shoulder, leaving you surprised, and he marches into your bedroom, then drops you onto your bed. 
“Yunho-” you squeal when you feel his fingers press against the soaked fabric hiding your pussy. 
“It's in the way, don't you think?” He asks rhetorically, eyeing the way the damp patch grows bigger when he massages it against your sticky folds, making you bite your lip. Of course you're not wearing any fucking underwear. Yunho should have realised. 
Unfortunately, Yunho doesn't have the patience to take his sweet time to look for the zipper, so he does the more sensible thing–ripping a fucking hole at where your pussy is. 
You blink in shock.
Shit, he really ripped a fucking hole down there. 
You furrow your eyebrows. 
“Yunho! This wasn't cheap!” You pout, closing your legs in protest with much futile effort, considering his arms are keeping them open.
He looks at you with indifference. “Then I'll get you a new one. Promise.”
Yunho grabs your thighs and drags you closer to him. His cum on his dick dribbles onto the suit, and Yunho smears it further, sliding his cock down, pressing it up against your creamy and puffy folds, with almost little to no friction. 
“I was thinking of how far I can ruin this suit anyway.”
He swears he's fucking blessed–his gorgeous partner making such an adorable movie date night of his favourite character, dressing up for the occasion, and letting him fuck her dumb in this cute spider suit? He couldn't ask for more.
Your eyes slowly roll back when you feel Yunho’s cock push into your warm pussy, filling you up almost instantly. You hiss softly at the pressure, feeling your tight walls trying to accommodate him. 
“So warm. Oh, fuck,” Yunho groans, already losing himself in your heat. He’s gotten a little more sensitive but he's gonna make it last as much as he can.
There's something so perverted that Yunho enjoys so much–fucking you fully clothed like this. He realises it gets him off so fast. He watches hungrily–the way your tits bounce under the suit when he thrusts deep into you, and how it's as if he's fucking you through the thin suit. His fingers trail up to your tits, and his thumb brushes against your bare nipples that harden under the fabric, throwing you into an additional layer of pleasure.
“Have I told you that you look fucking delicious in this? The Symbiote suits you so well.” 
It's hard to formulate an answer when your boyfriend is fucking your brains out like this, but you know he doesn't mind the silence and the broken moans–it’s your answer.
A couple more heavy thrusts into you, the wet sounds accompanying your sobs before he instructs you to turn around for him.
You go on fours, and Yunho wastes little time to pin your head down onto the mattress by your neck before he fits in wet dick right into you again.
His free hand wanders across your ass, then he gives it a tight slap, making you squeal and tighten on him.
You're clawing the sheets, the pleasure filling you up and you can't concentrate on anything else other than Yunho’s cock filling in and out of you, hitting your sweet spots over and over again. You've surely soiled the costume to hell, but honestly, at least Yunho was making full use of it. 
“So good”, you mutter, your pussy clamping down on the feeling of Yunho stretching you out with his fingers pressing the sides of your throat. You swear you were drooling.
“Is it?” Another heavy thrust. 
Oh shit, you're not sure how much more you could handle. And it seems that Yunho is in a similar situation–his thrusts are getting heavier and sloppier. His mind is in the gutter now, especially when he's forced to watch your pussy leak sticky cream down your folds and stain your inner thighs, mixed with his cum. 
“Cumming-” you cry, your legs shaking. “So good. Can't think-”
“Make a mess for me, babe”, Yunho chuckles, his palm stroking your ass, grabbing a handful before he fucks himself deep once more.
Your mind melts with your orgasm hitting you in waves, your pussy convulsing uncontrollably on his dick, your moans forming a melody for his ears, and it pushes him far enough to make a mess in you, thick and warm cum filling you up that you’re forced to take. You hear him curse and groan behind you, and you drop your hips onto the bed, his cock popping out of you, completely covered in a glisten of cum, some still seeping out from his cock head.
He tugs your ruined folds open, watching his thick cum leak out of your spent hole, dripping onto your thighs, soaked up by the suit. Yunho takes in the sight of you panting, with probably more than half of the suit soiled with fluids, and your pussy, other than your face, both uncovered and in a complete mess. 
Fuck, he just might get hard again. 
“Yunho, this isn't a good idea–fuck”, you whimper, completely losing yourself to him once more. 
Yunho had washed you up a little after that, and he wouldn't let you take off the suit, at least, not yet. You thought finally, maybe you and him could actually watch a Spiderman movie or two, but when Yunho pulled you onto his lap, you knew that plan was out of the window considering that he got hard again, and had you seated right on his cock. None of you are focusing on the movies. 
“Don't be mad at me, babe. I'm just making sure that I make full use of this movie night you're giving me”.
Another thrust into your spent pussy once more, and your thoughts leave your head. 
He's certain of having you fucked and filled with his sticky web by the end of the first movie, that's for sure.
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taglist: @bro-atz @diamond-3@mcarebearsstuff. @choisansplushie @pre1ttyies @hwallazia  @yeosangiess @softwsan @yourlocaljonghoe @itza-meee @ywtf @skteezcursed @jeon-ify @miss-fallon @bunnyluvr25 @eggyboy5 @hourswithoutyou @iwishiwasthemoontonight @yunhogrippers @watermelon2319  @kibs-and-bits @s-h-y-a @luvt0kki @httpseungmxn @vic0921 @sanhwajoong @bitejoongie @no1likevie @jwnghyuns @everythingboutkpop @skz1-4-3  @minalizasworld @seomisaho @tunafishyfishylike @songmingisthighs @comicnerd557 @yuyusgirl
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heresthestorymorningglory · 5 months ago
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Together Bound In Madness
Summary: There's a reason you were told not to walk alone at night....
A/N: Hi Babes! Me again :D So uhh....this particular piece of work wasn't meant to see the light of day and live its life in my WIP folder...it was supposed to....
Then I mentioned to @ken-dom that I might share and well...here we are...what can I say y'all? She's mad encouraging and I love her dearly for it. Without her none of these would exist.
As always, this NSFW 18+ and has a few extra warnings attached; a kidnapping trigger warning being the biggest one, but others will follow.
The title comes from the Marianas Trench song The Killing Kind
Y'all should know by now I rarely post one shots.....so yeah, this will be multiple parts....I'm just not sure on the final tally yet.
Enjoy my loves! <3 
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You pulled your jacket on after finally clocking out for the night. An hour later than you anticipated. 
Saying your goodbyes to your coworkers you let yourself out the front door walking up the street towards home. 
The wind blew the strands of hair that had fallen out over the course of the night around your face as you pulled your jacket more snugly around your middle.  
Your boots clicked on the pavement as you walked up the sidewalk, music changing songs before playing loudly through your headphones. 
It was quiet given the hour, which you didn't mind much, it gave you an opportunity to breathe and-
Suddenly an arm wrapped around your midsection, and a large hand closed over your mouth. 
Your heart slammed in your chest as you were pulled into the alley immediately to your left, music fading away as you pulled your headphones from your ears; the smell of conditioned leather overwhelming your senses before everything went black. 
You opened your eyes and everything was dark. Dark and cramped, and you had a splitting headache. Your knees were bent, elbows hitting obstructions on either side, your hands were bound and you realized you were moving. Your mind was racing trying to piece the events together, the last thing you remembered was walking home from work. You breathed hard through your nose, a thick piece of duct tape covering your mouth. Your heart was racing in your chest. 
Your phone, where was your phone? Your jacket didn't have pockets, and neither did your skirt; you had kept it tucked in your bra over the course of your shift, it was gone. 
You closed your eyes trying to focus on what to do next. Mouth was covered, screaming was out, your hands were bound behind your back, hard plastic zip ties biting into the tender flesh of your wrists, you could feel the same bite around your ankles, and your boots were gone. 
Another heavy breath out your nose as you felt the car roll to a stop. You closed your eyes, pretending to still be unconscious; potentially giving yourself time to think of a plan. 
You listened intently, boots crunching on gravel as they came around the back of the car. You let out a slow shaky breath trying to keep your wits about you. You couldn’t even begin to guess where you were, running was out of the question, they had made sure of that. What you assumed was streetlight flooded the trunk as it was lifted open, your eyes were closed, but you were certain your racing heart was going to give you away. You tried your best not to go absolutely rigid as you felt an arm slide under your knees, the other around your shoulders as you were lifted out. 
You had to open your eyes, you needed to figure out where you were if you had any chance in hell at getting away. 
Opting to crack your eyes open and not give yourself completely away you hoped against all hope whoever had you in their arms was more focused on getting you from point A to point B without being noticed, you weren’t exactly in an inconspicuous position. 
You fought to keep your breathing even and not give yourself away when you realized where you were, you recognized the small walkway immediately. You were home. 
What the fuck? 
Your mind raced with a whole new string of thoughts; this was your apartment complex, you hadn’t hallucinated, you lived here. You didn’t dare move, instead, you waited, the man carrying you was quiet, his breathing was unbelievably steady for carrying a bound, gagged, unconscious woman through a public space. 
You heard the familiar beep of the main door granting him access to the rest of the building. Did he live here? Or had he simply stolen your keys? Were you about to be held captive in your own apartment?! 
They hadn’t sounded like your keys…. They had a very distinct clink with the ring you had kept on them. Another familiar ding, this one was the elevator, this was your chance, the elevator had a mirror on the back wall. 
The doors opened and again, you cracked your eyes open as much as you dared. If it had been able to, your jaw would have hit the floor, you fought back the gasp that threatened to escape against the tape over your mouth. It was your neighbour. 
The slight panic that surged through your body at seeing a recognizable face made you slightly dizzy. The neighbour?! Who’s name you just couldn’t fucking place. Fuck. That’s what you get for thinking he was unassuming
He had hardly said a dozen words to you; ever; no wonder….you lived next door to a fucking Jeffery Dahmer wannabe. What the hell was he going to say ‘Hi, hope you like being chopped up into tiny little pieces and never found, because that’s my plan’?! 
You could get out of this, you could, but how? 
Again the doors pinged before sliding open and you bit down hard on the inside of your bottom lip. Your apartment door was feet away; and yet…
The one time that nosy Mrs. Collins wasn’t lurking outside…god damn it. 
He was skinny though; maybe you could overthrow him somehow…He definitely didn’t have brute strength on his side; at least you didn’t think so.
He carried you inside, and you heard the familiar click of the door closing behind him…but he didn't lock it. His confidence was unmatched. 
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the-family-business-83 · 2 years ago
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Unexpected Calling – Part I
Part 1 | Masterlist WIP
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Fandom: Marvel
Prompt: A world class contract killer finds an envelope at his dead drop. Inside are $23.42 in short change and a letter handwritten by a 9-year old girl.
Type: Series
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader's daughter (platonic obviously), Bucky Barnes x F!Reader
Genre: fluff, action, slight angst, might get smutty but idk yet
Warnings: Be prepared for some adult language! Nothing too crazy in this first part though, we're just getting started so that's my only warning for now.
Word count: 1.6k
Send me an ask to let me know if you wanna be added to/removed from the taglist!!
This post was Beta'd by @mariekoukie6661. Thanks a million!
A/N: Thought I'd throw my hand at a prompted fic! Hope you guys like it, I'll add a chapter directory and update as needed as the next parts are posted. So stay tuned 👀 Text dividers made by @firefly-graphics <3
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Every morning is always the same when you're paid to kill. He'd been trying to be better about the whole actual killing part lately, but that didn't change his morning routine very much. He woke up to the sound of his alarm clock going off—yes, he still used one. If you asked for his reasoning, he'd tell you it's because it's less complicated and you can always count on it to work because it simply stayed plugged into the wall; in the event that the power went out? It had batteries for backup power, and you can't find that kind of peace of mind with just the alarms on your phone. He's still an old soul, sue him. He woke up at 6:45 am, on the dot, every morning without fail that way so it was rather effective.
After the blaring sound of his trusty alarm clock came the process of forcing himself out of bed and cleaning up for the day; shaving if necessary, freshening up, getting dressed, the works. This was generally when he'd change his appearance should the need arise, as well. But he didn't need to do that this morning and so he flicked the light to the bathroom off as he left the room when he was finished, heading out to his kitchen thereafter. The next step? Food. It was always 7 am sharp by the time he got done with his wakeup process, the only time that changed being when he added any extra steps in the bathroom. And breakfast was always simple: a cup of hot black coffee, sliced avocado, and bread toasted to perfection with an egg over medium to be dipped in. And it never failed to be a pleasant way to start his morning, usually followed closely after by a session of watching the morning news. He found it a good way to see what was going on in the area and across the country so he could plan accordingly.
If he didn't have a job, which by chance was the case today, he'd generally find any sort of quiet way to spend the rest of his morning; reading a book, cleaning up all his weapons, or a walk in the park if he felt like it. Today, he felt like it. And it was mostly peaceful, if you excluded the grating sound of car horns, tires squealing, and buses chuffing past. And of course, if you chose to ignore the rumbling from the subway, the people shouting either in their urgency to get to work or just simply because they were an ass, then it was really utterly plain and quiet to walk through Central Park. By this point Bucky had truly gotten used to it. He supposed in some ways it wasn't too much different from his home in the past. But that didn't mean he liked to spend too much time there anyway. So long as he got out and went back home just in time, he could skip the gradeschoolers and dog walkers that came around for the afternoon.
There had been nothing unusual about his day so far, and he liked that. He liked the rhythm of it all, and how it always went according to his carefully curated schedule. He began the process of unlocking his apartment door after making his way up to his floor, and pushed it open to take a step inside. Crunch.
What the helll...?
Bucky frowned as, seemingly, something sat under his boot and crinkled where he'd stepped, making the same sound again as he carefully pried his foot off. The poor, crisply folded, paper envelope that had earlier been slotted through his dead-drop, suffered a dirt-covered footprint but aside from that, it seemed harmless and intact as he picked it up to inspect it. A curious thing to find when you hardly get mail aside from the bills. What was even more curious was the contents within it, feeling a bit lumpy and—quite frankly—heavy for a letter-sized envelope. He closed the door behind himself with one hand, locking it once again out of habit while the other kept hold of the envelope. Moments later he flicked out a switchblade to slice it open revealing not only a handwritten letter but also $23.42.....Exactly. All in small change.
It was quite honestly the oddest thing he'd seen or received to date, and that was including the number of quite-literal backstabs he'd received, numerous other maiming injuries, and the odd encounters he’d had with a talking raccoon, tree, and robot...man…thing. To name a few. That was also including the number of odd jobs he'd been offered and peculiar payment methods he'd been given. Never had he come across such a specific payment with a letter that….upon further inspection….looked as though its penman couldn't be much older than 9 years old, at most.
'Dear mister,
My name is Rosie Jones. I am 9 yeers old. My mommy says you're vary good at helping people. Well, I need your help. Mommy also said you like to be paid for helping, so I broke my piggy bank open so you wood help us. Mommy doesn't know yet thoe, so please don't tell her.
My mommy dissuhpeered disappeered last night. She told me to hide and I did but now I can't find her and so I need your help mister becuz you're really good at finding people too, mommy said so. Please please help me find my mommy, I don't know what to do mister.
– Rosie'
"You've gotta be shitting me." He muttered to himself. The first question Bucky had, quite honestly, was how did this little girl even know who he was? Or where he lived? Not many people did, if any, truth be told. If they did? They were usually dead within minutes. It was one of many reasons that kept his renowned status intact. But here he was, sitting at his own table, with proof that some little girl knew both of those things. Frowning down at the paper and envelope of change, the assassin ran his hand back through his dark brown hair momentarily, processing what he'd just read. On one hand, it could be an elaborate trap. By all rights he had to assume it, considering the nature of the letter and the fact that a little girl of all people had written it. But on the other hand, there was a certain dedication there that he simply couldn't ignore. And some part of him couldn't help but at least look into it. So moments later, the man was pulling out his laptop and began searching for answers, anything that could give this little girl's story any sort of credit.
Much to his surprise? It checked out. Every last bit of it. There was a mother, connected to the Rosie Jones in question, who had gone missing under rather mysterious circumstances. "I'll be damned, mystery kiddo."
'Y/N Jones, aged 37, a single mother, was nowhere to be found the next morning after reports came in that a struggle and silenced gunshots were heard from the house that night.'
He probably could have gotten away with just keeping the money and letting it go. It was some little kid somewhere hoping for someone to hear her plea, he could get away with it. But it was that name…. he'd seen it before, he knew he had. In all fairness though, he really only remembered faces exceptionally well. Names didn't matter in the long run, names didn't tell him who he was shooting within a crowd of people. So why did it keep nagging at the back of his mind?...
Spoiler alert: he shouldn't have went digging. He should have just left it alone. But he had always been a curious mind and he was nothing if not thorough on top of that. Popping open the top to his bottle of whiskey, Bucky carefully poured out a favorable portion into a glass tumbler, before letting it down onto the counter as he heard an agreeable noise coming from his laptop to signal it had finished its task. Glancing over his shoulder, he sipped on his drink as he made his way back over to the table, having waited for what seemed like an hour to get the information he wanted. And the minute he looked at the screen was the very same minute he regretted it.
He knew that face.
He knew it like the back of his hand almost, he knew it the same way he knew the taste of bourbon or the sound of a .22 magnum. That was the face of Y/N Y/L/N and it was a face he had been trying to forget for years now. But most of all he knew it was a mistake to have even touched this with a ten-foot pole. Because now he had a target, he knew what the target looked like, and he had been paid in- well, maybe not-so-full, but in 9-year-old currency $23.42 was basically a million dollars considering it was all her savings.
In short?
He had to do it now.
He knew that. And it damn near made him groan at the prospect. Because this was going to be a long-ass job, and if he was going to ensure the rescue of that little girl's mother, then he needed to ensure that child's safety. The less leverage the 'enemy' had, the easier his job was. So as he sighed out, "Damnitall, this better be fuckin worth it kid," the hundred year old assassin finished off his drink and went about packing his things to take on a job that he never asked for, but knew damn well he was stuck with until it was over.
But at least if he had to go through with this, he was going to be damn sure he did it right, that was for sure.
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Taglist: If you weren't tagged it's because I couldn't get it to tag you or I didn't know which account was yours – @aingealcethlenn @deaan @idabbleincrazy @impala-1979 @kadet-jb @myinconnelly2 @princessmisery666 @rosedemica @tvdspngirl314 @darsynia @buckys-zomdoll @cookingglitterfairy @emilyshurley @fictionalabyss @jotink78 @mariekoukie6661 @manawhaat @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @scarletwinchester84 @sorenmarie87 @until-theend-oftheline @starryeyes2000 @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @betweengalaxies2 @focusonspn
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take-everything-you-can · 2 years ago
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Mother's Day First's
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A/N : So I know this is going to be posted a day late but I work nights. This idea came to me like.. How would Eddie deal with that first Mother's Day without his own mom? What about the first one he shares with his wife ? What about all those that come in-between? but honestly I could write this is so many different ways and I love that about Eddie Munson, just an inspiration Gremlin. I Wrote it this way from a bit of my personal life so I hope that this is something that you guys enjoy.
18+ MINORS DON'T EVEN THINK ABOUT IT
Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem reader
WC: 4.8K
TW: A Bit of angst ( mentions death of a parent, car accident, love lost, grief, a sad Wayne, A very Sad Eddie) Some fluff ( Memory lane, moments of pining, cute dad Eddie, flirty, baby girl Munson) And the slightest smut ( Breeding kink)
Also a very special thank you to the person who started my love for writing Eddie fics in the first place and for beta reading this piece @blueywrites and a shoutout to @lesservillain for letting me fill her inbox with all my little ideas!!!! Last but not least thank you @newlips for being the amazing person she is and designing these amazing dividers :)
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 A frantic phone call from Chief Hopper had made Wayne bolt from the trailer park to the police station. In under thirty minutes, he would become a parent, unprepared and the farthest from okay. The rain on an early December night had created a sheet of Black ice within a bend towards the outskirts of the small town. One unseen as screeching tires hit, causing an overcorrection and a flip of the small vehicle. There were no airbags in the car as Al had gotten the car from a used lot a few months before getting locked up again. Eddie watched as his mother took her last breath, a miracle he had only sprained a wrist. He had fallen asleep as his mother was driving them home, being unbraced for impact had saved his life.
 When Wayne walked in he found a small raven-haired, rain-drenched, tear-stricken, round-faced Eddie silent and sitting straight in the chair next to Hopper's desk. It was only then that Wayne let himself cry, Looking at Eddie yet hearing the most heart-wrenching news from Hopper he let the tears flow as he waved to cut the conversation short. He took Eddie in his arms, a stronghold, and the emotion Eddie thought was gone for only a second came flooding back running a river down the back of Wayne's worn flannel, a grip that Wayne held onto for days to come. 
December was rigid as the trees began to shed their leaves, making way for the blooms of spring in the coming months. Birds had started to make their way south a few weeks prior when the heat started to drop and the Hawkins air started to become stale. Now Snow started to stick to the ground, the crunch a telltale sign to Wayne that soon everything in sight would be coated. He was just happy to have an extra heater for Eddie as they made their way to the porch and up the steps and into the small living room of the trailer Eddie had started to call home.
A drop of his backpack on the floor was the only thing Wayne could hear through the closed door of the room he had emptied so Eddie could have his own space. His nephew had spent weekends or spontaneous nights when things got a bit rough at home with him but the permanent move was starting to harsh his confidence in whether he could do this or not. How do you raise a child when you’ve never been in the company of one for longer than three days? Angela had entrusted Wayne long ago he would be a good father; he just figured it would be from his own seed or at least when he could prepare, but death doesn’t care if you’re prepared or not. Death comes for all races and genders, whether you choose to love freely or not it has no care if you're ready for it or not. No Death will make that decision for you. Death chose to take Eddie's mother and leave Wayne To fend the demons off for Eddie with no armor and no sword, at least until Eddie could fend them off himself.  
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The weather, in May of 1976, had been damn near perfect in Wayne Munson's opinion. He could go fishing without having to come in from the heat beating him down most of the morning. Something he decided to do the second Sunday to keep Eddie’s mind off of his first year without Angie. Eddie begrudgingly agreed knowing it was more for Wayne than it was for him. Every year Eddie watched as Wayne would bring Angela flowers and a small cake from her favorite restaurant across town. Every single Mother's Day. He had done those things before Eddie could remember them but this year was the first that Wayne also didn’t have her and even though she had been Eddie's mom, to him it felt like Wayne needed this more than he did. Like someone who loved his mother far longer than he had a chance to. Wayne Munson was truly a father figure way beyond before he was forced to be one. It would take a few years to admit it to Eddie but he had pined for his mother since their school days, being the shy man he was, he never could muster up the courage to ask her out, at least not before Al had anyway. It was something that ate him up inside until the day she left this world. Eddie always knew. In some ways, he had almost hoped they would just get it over with already and spill their feelings to each other. Eddie hated that he felt that way about someone who wasn’t his actual father. Aren’t kids supposed to always want their parents to always stick together? To love each other through it all? He felt like his father didn’t deserve the love that Wayne and Angela had given him but it was true. He deserved love but not theirs, it was too pure for him, too unselfish and undeniable for anyone close. Something he would know nothing about. 
Wayne had packed a small cooler and relined his favorite fishing poles all in the early morning hours as he let Eddie sleep in. Not too long, just long enough that the sun had started to peak its way over the large tree that sat behind the trailer and started to peak its rays through the window in the kitchen. 
“Alright boy up and at’em, the fish ain’t gonna catch themselves.” Eddie groaned as Wayne ripped the old quilt back rushing to shield his eyes as the room became too bright, too fast. Yet he got up as he was told and threw on some clothes from a pile that Wayne had set in his room after doing laundry the night before. 
Sitting at the edge of Lovers Lake Eddie throws a cast out as far as he can and watches as Wayne gets situated a few feet away from him. 
“ You remember when you were like six years old and me and your dad brought you out here and threw you off the dock to teach you how to swim?” The memory shocks Eddie for a second as he wanders through the lane in his memory trying to recall the days that he spent few and far in between with his father doing something other than stealing cars and keeping watch. He chuckles to himself as he recalls the day Wayne is referring to. 
“ The day I almost drowned? Yeah, I remember that.” Wayne smiles to himself.
“ I would have not let you drown boy and ya know it. I remember it as your dad threw you off that dock and you turned into a damn fish. Like you were just meant to be in the water, it took us hours to convince you to come out.” Eddie sits and watches as the fish continues to ignore his line as Wayne clears his throat “ I remember that when we got home you went running to tell your mama that you had met a mermaid in that lake. She asked you if the mermaid had a name since everyone has got a name right? You remember what her name was?” Eddie shook his head as he began inspecting the ground as it grew blurry with each passing second. “ I think you said her name was Marie, your mama said that was the prettiest sounding name she’d ever heard come from an underwater lady.” He lets out a defeated sigh as he takes in Eddie's features. Tears fell silently off his cheeks wetting the shirt he was wearing. He missed his mom and he knew nothing could bring her back no matter how hard he prayed. The longer that prayer went unanswered the less he spent time asking for it. A grief that would never go away. 
“ I miss her too.” The deep sound coming from Wayne startled Eddie out of his thoughts as he looked up to find that Wayne too had tears threatening to spill over his lashes. 
A silence took over, comfortable and familiar. A feeling that Wayne and Eddie had grown accustomed to over the few months they had spent together. The sun began to set and Wayne had caught a few fish. Eddie on the other hand, every time he had caught one he felt too bad to keep it and said they had a life to live so he had to set them free. Wayne didn’t mind, he just saw another reason to love Eddie. A strength that Eddie would grow to thrive on, is kindness, a trait that came solely from his mother. 
 Heading back to the trailer park or so Eddie thought until Wayne took a right turn instead of a left. He sat waiting to see if Wayne would catch the mistake he made but the longer he sat the more he realized Wayne had made no mistake. Wayne was heading across town to a small little cafe called “Tully's”, A small hole-in-the-wall place that served one of the richest red velvet cakes you could ever get your hands on. 
“Wayne, what are we doing?”  Eddie only asks when he sees that old path Wayne had started to head down.  A path they made a few months prior following that shiny black hearse. 
“We are going to give your mother her flowers and cake? What do you think just cause she can’t be here with us we're just gonna stop tradition?” Eddie doesn't know what to say. He shakes his head to Wayne as the truck comes to a stop just outside the cemetery fence.” You want to come to tell your mama hi or do you want to stay in the truck?”  The tears seem to answer for him they haven't fallen but Wayne understands. “ It’s okay, I'm just gonna sit with her for a few minutes and update her on life and I'll be right back. okay? '' Wayne takes the flowers and cake to the third grave within the second row and sits them both in front of an engraved headstone. Eddie watches as he’s careful to sit at the edge of where her coffin lays, legs crossed and a cigarette sitting between his fingers. Talking to his mother like she is answering all his questions. Why can't he get out of the truck? Why does he feel like his body is stuck? Before he could wonder anything else Wayne had opened the truck door and slid into his seat with a single swipe under his eye, he started the truck and they headed home.
Eddie Still can’t believe that the first Mother's Day without his mother has passed. 
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The first bloom of tulips and mums had started to spring up in Forest Hills as the temperature began to rise. April had brought so much rain it was a surprise that in May of 1981, the plants were still standing. Eddie is dreading the day as the sun starts to crawl across his floor and climb onto the bed sheets. Wayne had brought home a Tully's cake and sat it on the counter along with some long-stem roses he had bought Angela's favorite. Fishing was a no-go this year as the forecast called for rain most of the day but as Eddie walked outside to sit on the porch for a smoke, he found Wayne finishing off one himself, there wasn’t a cloud in sight, just a gentle breeze.  
“Good morning sunshine,” Wayne muttered as He took in the sight of Eddie. Wild curls and deep purple bags under his eyes. A small smile on his lips as he heard the birds speak to one another.
“Is it a good morning?” He mumbled as he patted his sweats down for a lighter, finding it in the left pocket. Wayne let out a hearty laugh.
“Your mom wasn’t a morning person either, always saying that if the owls are up at night she should be too. A weird one your mother was,” A fond tone that made Eddie's heart squeeze. 
“She liked owls?” Wayne’s eyes grew wide as he nodded his head.
“Oh she loved them, even had a small one tattooed on her shoulder when we were about your age, said they were always the most beautiful creatures she’d ever laid eyes on till she met you.” With the sentiment, Eddie snuffs out the remaining embers on the lit cigarette between his fingers and tells Wayne to wait there on the porch for a second. Stumbling through the small hallway to the bedroom he opens his closet and pulls out a bouquet of lilies one he had picked up on his way home from band practice. Rushing back to where Wayne sat he presented the flowers to Wayne. 
“Oh those are beautiful, your moms gonna love those. You did good boy.” Eddie’s cheek burned pink under the gaze of his uncle. 
“Um, no Uncle Wayne I got them for you.” 
“You got them for me? Why would you get me flowers?”  Eddie thought about it for a few seconds taking a seat next to Wayne hoping he would be able to get out what he was trying to say before embarrassment choked him up. 
“Well see here is the thing, In the sixteen years that I’ve been on this earth I’ve come to realize that you don’t have to be here.” 
“What are you talking about Eddie?”  he lets out a sigh running his hands through his hair doing nothing to tame the wild frizz.
“All I'm saying is thank you for being here. For taking me in, you didn’t have to, you wanted to. Just thank you for being my dad and my mom these past few years.”  Wayne sat silent for a few minutes until he could keep his own emotions in tow. 
“Now don’t give me all the credit, your mama is looking out from above, but thank you for being a good kid, yeah you have some issues but at sixteen you will make mistakes but you are a good kid Eddie no matter what your dad or anyone else thinks. So no son thank you.”  Eddie scratches the back of his neck trying to relieve the sheer embarrassment of compliments given by his uncle. “Hey, have I ever shown you what your mom looked like at your age?” Eddie shakes his head as he follows his uncle into the trailer and waits for him on the couch as he brings over the biggest photo album Eddie has ever seen. Wayne begins to flip through the pages until he comes across an old Polaroid of three kids standing against a set of lockers in the hallway of Hawkins High School. Scribbled in cursive at the bottom it says Al, Wayne, and I Ditching Science.  Smiling as he watches Eddie take the photo. “You have her eyes and her smile ya know?” Eddie smiles to himself and flips to the next page its got a few of a party being held, Eddie’s baby shower to be exact and he stops at a picture of His mother smiling from ear to ear with a forkful of cake as Wayne has a hand on her stomach, eyes wide and on the bottom in the same cursive it reads, Eddie kicking wayne for the first time.  This earns a small laugh from Eddie as he continues to flip through the yellowing pages and stops again once he comes to a picture that was taken about a week before his mother passed away. It had Eddie sitting next to his mother and she had headphones wrapped around his ears as she held up a peace sign on the bottom. It says Eddie is learning what real music is and notes that the song she was making him listen to was The Best Of My Love by The Eagles. Tears begin to burn as they refuse to fall. She had always told Eddie to listen to the lyrics to songs, something he did more and more the older he got. A small pat on the back from Wayne looked on to the photo on the page telling Eddie it was one of her favorite songs and how she would play it on repeat Eddie laughed remembering all the times she would blast music through the house and he never once asked her to turn it down, not when she would dance with him in the kitchen and sing into spoons. Memories he cherished always. Wayne left to take the gifts to Angela's grave leaving Eddie at the trailer, even though it had been a few years he was still somehow not able to make the trip to see his mother.
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It was starting to feel like spring was hauling ass into summertime. A long April made the butterflies and bumblebees hum to life as the new green buds began to bloom in the early days of May 1989. After marrying the girl of his dreams Eddie found out shortly after that he was going to become a father. And the last six months of his life had been nothing if not chaotic in the best ways. Waking up at three am had become something he looked forward to letting you get in a little bit more sleep where you could. Eddie was the kind of father to his daughter you dreamed about, attentive and caring of all the things that drew you to him in the first place. As Eddie heated a bottle to feed the little one crying out in hunger a spitting image of you he swore, but if you looked at her long enough you’d see she was all Eddie. Big brown eyes wide and curious, small cupids bow in her top lip, and a nose you just wanted to reach out and press. She even had a small birthmark on her left shoulder blade, one to match Eddie's except he was on his right side. 
Eddie reached over the bassinet wall as he lifted her into his arms wiping away the crocodile tears she had shed in wait for her bottle. He hummed to her as he offered it to her, a willing nudge to her bottom loop had her latching in an instant. A smile on his face anytime she accepted his help. That's all he ever wanted was for someone to look at him the way that his girls looked at him, with love and adoration. To feel wanted and needed not like he was just something to just toss to the side once you become bored. You had been the only person to make him feel truly wanted other than Wayne and he was now looking down at the labor of love created from that. His daughter had pushed the bottle out of her lips and he looked to see the amount taken but unhappy with the outcome he urged her to drink a bit more.
“Come on angel you need just a little more alright? Just a little, not a whole lot.” He hadn’t noticed that you had come to stand in the doorway watching him sway back and forth slowly as he tried to get your daughter to eat. Angela Marie was the name he had asked to call her as soon as he saw her and who were you to tell him no? A perfect name for his perfect angel he said the night you labored for hours that seemed to never end. But the moment she made her debut in this plane of existence your heart instantly knew this was his Angela Marie. 
You walk over to your husband sliding a hand across the small of his back as he hums in satisfaction. 
“Why are you up right now?" He turned to you yet his eyes never left his daughter's face.
“My space heater went to feed our child and it got kind of cold in there alone.” He chuckled a low laugh as he burped Angie on his shoulder. 
“Oh, but any other time I'm too warm for you.” 
“I said you were too warm like one time, are you ever gonna get over it? “ He shook his head as he laid Angie back into her bassinet slowly but surely drifting back to sleep as he rocked it slightly. A smirk on his face as he turned to you walking out of her room and into your own. 
“ What?” Knowing that smirk could be the death of you as your hormones were still all over the place and alone time was non-existent for the last six months. You had just started to get some of it back since Angie had started to sleep through the nights more often. 
“Close your eyes.” You sat in your shared bed and did as he had asked listening to him shuffle through a few drawers having lost whatever he was looking for. 
“You need some help?” you laugh.
“ No, just be a good girl and keep those eyes closed for me alright?” Your stomach did a somersault hearing the words but you kept your eyes closed until he asked you to hold out your hand.
 “Okay, you can open them now.” A small box sat in your hand as he got into his side of the bed, smiling up at you.
 “Go ahead and open it.” 
You take and flip the lid and there in the ring are three stones one is Citrine on the other side there is a Ruby and between both sits a beautiful Opal. A Birthstone for you, one for Eddie, and one for your angel.
”Happy Mother's Day baby.” You lean over and kiss Eddie as if he is a man going to war. You leave him breathless as you take the ring out of the box and place it on the ring finger of your right hand letting it mirror your wedding set. Eddie places a hand upon your cheek and you lean into it finding comfort in the warmth of his skin. He kisses you with a desperate need to show you just how much he loves you but you already know that he shows you in little ways every day. He will find you no matter how long he’s been gone if he leaves the house the second he’s back in it he kisses you the same as when he goes to leave a promise of I’ll be right back. He leaves you little notes on the mirror in the mornings, so when you take a shower the steam reveals his I love yous. Any gas station he goes into he will come back out with a kit-kat just because he knows the way you like the taste of the chocolate once it melts a little after holding it. He shows you in the way he feeds your daughter just to give you those precious extra minutes of sleep. He shows you all of these things and you show him now in this moment that you appreciate them all. He treated you as if you were the mother of his children long before you were one. Something you learned that Wayne has taught him. Your girl is your everything, if you treat her with love and respect she will give it to you tenfold.
 The love you had for Eddie, you needed him to feel that too. Slow thrusts and small whimpers that escape your mouth tell him all he needs to know. Groans in your ear from him trying to keep his love from spilling over send shivers down your spine tightening the hold around him. “God you're just so good to me huh? Letting me fill you and pump you full of me. You want another little one, don't you baby?” The words send you into orbit as you gush around him, pulling him deeper and deeper in your hold as you tighten his stills only to thrust sharply a few more times punctuating each thrust with his words. “Let. Me. Give. You. Another. One.” and with that last thrust he paints your walls thick, something he hadn’t done in three months. Yes, you had gotten him off but for the first time in three months, he was right back inside you and your walls were home to him. Kept his darkest and dirtiest secrets confined, the secret of want and warmth he had spent years searching for. A prayer he thought God answered only for abandoning his other. 
Sleep found you both quickly wrapped in each other until the clock began to wail beside Eddie. A slap to the snooze button and you were already stirring but he tightened his hold on you feeling that small warm nuzzle that lasted for a few moments before the heat became too much and he would let you pull away.
Walking with Eddie towards the truck in the parking lot meeting Wayne for lunch at a small cafe across town. The red sundress you were wearing complemented the small black sabbath onesie Eddie had dressed angela marie in. A squeeze of your hand that was in eddies let you know he loved you, a signal he used when there were too many people around or didn't want to say it aloud. You would always reply with two back an answer of I love you too. You take Angela in your arms as he goes to hug Wayne and you pass her back so you can do the same. A Small Happy Mother's Day from Wayne has you reeling out thank yous, not only for you but to thank him for raising someone as amazing as Eddie. A phenomenal husband and father. Only then does Wayne take Angela Marie Fully into his hold cooing to her in his gruff baby voice of how she is the most beautiful little angel to grace this planet. A quick lunch and a cup of coffee end with Wayne picking up a Red Velvet Cake and a second box he holds until he reaches the truck with you all in tow. As he opens the door he slides the cake onto the passenger's side and hands one of the boxes to Eddie along with a second set of flowers he had picked up from the store, Lilies were your favorite something Wayne smiled at when Eddie told him remembering a time when Eddie had given him his own set of lilies. The box held a yellow cake with buttercream frosting, a favorite of yours since Eddie first brought you to Tully’s on one of your first dates. He had preferred red velvet until that day. Eddie turned to Wayne but what he said surprised him more than anything.
 “I’m gonna come with you to see Mom. I think I want Angel to meet her gammie.”  
A silent trip to the cemetery as your car followed Wayne's truck through the dirt path that led to the fence he once couldn't bear to see. Walking over carefully he sat at the edge where his mother lay with you beside him and Angie in his lap. You had your hand in his as you squeezed once and he returns it with two. He takes a deep breath as he lets Wayne set the cake and flowers next to the stone engraved with her name and a message of Be the best You. A phrase that almost takes his breath as he can hear the words ring true in his ears, a quote his mother had told him every day. “All you can do is be the best, you Eddie.” A small hand grips his finger as if giving him the signal you had made for each other out of instinct. 
“Angel Marie this here is your Grandmother Angela Evelyn Munson and she was the love of your papa's life.” A tremble in his tone was more cathartic than sad. He had only been here a few times since that day with Wayne. The first time was when he was drunk after graduation and he just wanted to let out some anger and maybe get some answers but he never got them, the next time was to tell his mom he met someone new, someone, who gave him this strange feeling like any time she looked at him his stomach would fall. Kind of like he was on one of the rides that would come through town when they held a small county fair, and the third was the day he found out you were pregnant, he just wanted to know if his mom would have been proud of the man he had become and Wayne assured him she would, but it wasn't the same and he knew that. 
This led to today the first time Angela Marie would meet Angela Evelyn and he could have sworn she was right in front of him, he couldn't see her but if he could just reach out and touch her that would be enough he couldn't, no because when he looked down and that tiny hand that had wrapped itself around his finger he knew he was wrapped around hers too.
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hisuianhellion · 25 days ago
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A set of videos and photos from a space and time not reachable yet...
TRIGGER WARNINGS: Death. Blood. Violence. Eldritch themes. Loss of sanity. If you wouldn't play Bloodborne, be wary of this post.
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A note is scrawled hastily, appearing upon the blog as a photo. It's placed rather plainly upon the hand holding it, barely legible in the glare of the flash the camera had taken. But it's still capable of being read.
"Seek Paleblood to transcend the Hunt."
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"I, uh. I guess I can. Try and record these, um." A woman with a gaunt chin, circular glasses and a rather quaint ponytail behind her head glances about. Her voice is a bit haggard, and her appearance matches that of Rose before her many, many adjustments over the course of her time in Hisui. Tanned, but still pale, and with a small layer of stubble along her chin, her voice was clearly being pushed to sound a bit feminine. Wearing a rather casual half-suit, her jacket seemingly missing in lieu of a hood along her shoulders, she began to speak again.
"So. I, ah. I believe my name is Rose. I say 'I believe' because that's… well I'll get into that in a sec. I just woke up in what looks like a rather… run down medicinal clinic. Old, but. With the bottles and the beds not quite moldy enough that it could be considered, uh. I. I guess still 'usable'?" She pauses to take a small peer about in a specific direction, hearing a small crash down below. "… so. S-so, uh. This." Her hand comes up, focusing back onto it as a page is shown. The same one in the picture beforehand. "Seek Paleblood to transcend the Hunt. I don't… know what that is. Either it's like… discolored blood or I'm clueless here. I don't even know what the 'Hunt' is, but it sounds like something I'm contracted into." Quietly, she flipped it over. And it showed an in-patient document with her name scrawled a bit hastily on the bottom. Rose Waite. "And this is why I think this is my name. It's my handwriting, I've tested it a few times here and there, but. I'm a little worried." Another crash. This time, of a good few extra bits and bobs. It sounded like wood just crumbled as well.
"… very worried. Uh… I'll. I'll get back to this in a bit. Guess this is my diary or something." She grabs the phone, and it promptly ends the recording.
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"I died. I died. I can't. I just--" She's pacing about for a moment, her phone on a nearby chair. Upon her back is what looks to be a rather large axe, a slightly curved handle covered in cloth as she shifted back and forth indoors. "I felt… I felt that massive dog just… crunch something. That thing was twice my fucking size and he killed me and I died and now I'm… I got…"
She pulled out a gun. An older design by quite a few decades, a century even, showing it off for the camera. A pistol, flintlock by the look with a slightly wider muzzle. "I got these weapons from the little white folk on the ground and… a-and I came back to life. There's this. This lantern that... takes me somewhere. A Dream. I tried taking a picture of it, the camera's right BEHIND it, but. It's not seeing it? Why can I see it, but it can't? Why am I seeing things other things can't, how am I even ALIVE?!"
Rather rapidly, she grabbed her face and shook it, screaming into her hands as she stamped a foot. "NONEOFTHISISOKAY! G… Giant fucking dogs, villagers that want to kill me and yet even if I die, I don't!" She stared outwards, shuddering quietly in response. "I. Okay. I have. I have to breathe, I have to… Paleblood, right? That's what I need. I think I fuckin' figured out what a 'Hunt' was, but at least I have something to look for, right?"
She slowly sighed out. She took a few inhales. And she gradually stepped over, grasping the phone once more with a grunt.
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"This town is fucked." The recording ends rather abruptly.
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"… so. Okay. Breather time. I'm in a chapel… got a. A guy here that's… noooot hostile? Little off-kilter, but he seems nice enough." She's sitting in a small corner, staring off into space as she holds the phone quietly against her knee, positioned well enough to look up. "… Beasts big enough to tower over a damn building, another Hunter, I think, that just… thought I was a beast like the rest… and then turned into one himself. I'm pretty sure I died to him about six times. I… I do not like that feeling."
She stares off, letting her eyes hit something. There's a subtle blue glow about her from whatever she's looking at. "It's like every muscle in your body gives up. The chill that follows is so… fast that I still have to wonder if I'm alive when I come back. The breath I take… there's always a puff of mist at first. Like I really was just a corpse pushing out cold air beforehand." Her eyes are listlessly staring outwards, and she flexes her free hand a bit.
"… the guy who lives here… Iunno, seems like a hermit or something? He's asking if I could find survivors out there. I'm guessing I can. Not that many are fuckin' left…" She grunts as she gets up, turning the recording off as she did.
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This recording starts with Rose seemingly ranting outwards in anger. She's in frame and shows off... a bloodied ribbon. It used to be white. "I... I went through Yharnam. I started telling people of where to go! Where they could... f-find some safety! And a little girl decided... sh-she just needed to get out to look for her parents and I..."
She choked on a small cough, leaning her head against the nearby wall. She promptly showed off the corpse of a gigantic pig... with blood dripping from its mouth. "... g-guess where I found this. I... I'm so done with this horrific town. I'm done. I give up, I need to move on and find whatever the h-hell is causing this. Whatever the hell Paleblood is."
She gives a small sniffle, slipping a black, pointed hat onto her head with a rather clear angle, tugging a cowl along her chin to cover her mouth of the blood nearby.
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A photo is posted again, this time of a skull. A skull far too large to be human. Ornately decorated with burnt out incense sticks everywhere and candles that do little more than give a bit of light instead. There's a small caption.
"Fear the Old Blood."
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"I don't think I like snakeballs." The recording cuts.
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"I especially do not like snakeballs bigger than me." Again, the recording cuts.
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Another photo. But this time, it's of… a building. A large one, rather downtrodden but looking like a particularly old university's meeting house, but seemingly alone in the edge of the forest. The moon is obscenely large here, bright as could be, full as could be and shimmering in a nearby lake. Just in the corner of the photo, though, the water seems to be… glowing in an odd way. Something even the camera could pick up is surely not that good of a sign.
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"What was that. That. That Spider... THING. What are those things on the building. The moon is red. Why is it RED?!" It wasn't in the recording as she pointed up. Pale white. Low, yes, but normally colored. "Those things, they have too many FUCKING arms and its head looks like a NUT WITH EYES." Nothing is in the camera's sight before she swaps to a selfie camera. "I don't know what's going on. My head is throbbing if I don't keep moving, I f-feel like it's going to SNAP if I… if I don't just kill something. Something big, something wrong, something that isn't…"
As she speaks, her teeth are visible, having pulled her cowl down for the camera to hear her better. Sharper. A bit longer along her canines. She's frantic, her eyes practically twitching towards things that don't exist. "I'm still me. I just have. More in me. I have to get to the Paleblood. I have to reach it. I know where it is. I have to reach it. It's here. It's in this hellhole of a fucking town and I'll rip it out if I HAVE TO--"
She ends the recording. But not before a quick snarl escapes her voice in the process.
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This recording, how it started, none could say. The phone's camera is slightly cracked, but just enough picture is getting through to see leather boots stamping past. It seems leaned against a wall almost perfectly to get this sight, almost too deliberately for an accident to have caused it. Haggard breathing is heard as Rose, seemingly at least, is flailing at what appears to be… nothing. In a large area here? She's fighting, quite simply, nothing.
Which doesn't explain how her body is flung into focus once more like a ragdoll, the woman attempting to get up. As she lets out a snarl that didn't sound human in the least, she's seemingly… lifted up. She lets out a strangled yelp… and blood splatters the ground wetly before she's dropped down onto the ground, lifeless. And despite there being "nothing" there… she soon turns into "nothing" as well, fading from view, a subtle blue glow overtaking her body before she fades.
And yet, the recording simply keeps going.
And going.
And going. Pure silence. Before the sound of a crack is heard, the phone being crushed by something it wasn't even able to record.
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freshlyrage · 1 year ago
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I'm obsessed with Running like water and it is such a good fic and I was wondering, Since you posted about wanting to do mini chapters for the before, Would you ever write a homecoming chapter since yk Texas?
Ahhhh. Thank you so much bae. I got a little carried away and decided this will be a two part mini flashback from the Running Like Water. I phoned my Texan friends for this, its getting real. Read note where this falls in the timeline hehe. ENJOY
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Homecoming Part 1
pairing: Javier Peña x OFC (written as xReader)
fic warnings: HIGH SCHOOL just angst and fluff these two mini chapters
fic tags: Best friends younger sister, Life-long crush, Friends to lovers, Unrequited love, slow burn, Push and Pull, Small Town Dynamics, Secret Relationships, latina MC, Fluff and Angst, OFC!Jessica Alba face claim, sorry Lorraine I'm bringing you into this, Time jumps, 2 year age gap, pre-canon
authors note: This is a flashback chapter, this falls between Chapter 1 and 2 of Running Like Water . Enjoy some baby andrea and javi angst.
word count: 3.4k
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Liandra hated mums. And no, not her mom, you guys were from Texas not the UK for god's sake. 
The girls lacrosse team stood in the mouth of the gym doors to the field, Liandra flicked the blue streams of ribbon. She narrowed her eyes at the 4 senior girls who’s mums were large, covered in white streamers, a small teddy bear attached to its heart. I just will never be that extra when I’m a senior. She whispers to you and you slap her shoulder, your own mum making a crunching sound as your arm swipes past it. 
Monica on the other hand loved her mum, she was huge on school spirit and homecoming, president of the hoco committee, she was smiling ear to ear, waiting to yell and run on field for pictures. 
It was your first homecoming but you knew all about it. You helped Genie make her senior year mum, you shouted at your brother from the bleachers when they let all other sports present themselves before the big football game. It was your turn now, second to last to run out. The entire football team stood behind you and your girls. Your hair pulled in a ponytail, lacrosse jersey hanging loose on your body casting an unflattering look with your flared jeans. 
You had a cute blue top to go with your school's colors but your coach scolded you and forced you into your jersey. 
You look over your shoulder at the tall boys fraternizing and chanting, we lose every year but they seem hopeful. 
Your eyes fall on Brian Flores, a senior who had pulled you aside last week to call you beautiful. Your freshman self blushed so hard you could feel the heat in your ears. He asked you to homecoming which shocked you, you almost wanted to ask why. He was a senior and freshman weren't allowed to go unless their date was an upperclassman. Your suspicion up and left when he kissed your cheek.
You like to think you’re a sucker for romance but your friends just think you're a sucker for attention.
 Monica did not approve, only loser seniors feel the need to sweeten up freshman. 
He flashes you a bright smile with his mouth guard half out his mouth, your stomach flips and you smile back. Staring back at Liandra who wiggles her brows and Monica leans into your ear,
“He wants you so bad, it's sickening. In a bad way.” 
You roll your eyes and the doors open, cueing your team. Hand in hand with Liandra you run, Monica was on the front lines. You stare down at your feet pressed to grass, the friday night lights reigning down on you as the crowd cheers. 
One thing Texas doesn't play about is homecoming, you learned that young. The bleachers are packed, so packed you’re already overthinking, how the fuck am I going to find space. 
You hated events like these, it always felt like the entire student section was eyeing down and sizing you up when you looked for a seat.
Well you were a bit too distracted, running while staring at the crowd. You bump into a tall volleyball player's back very awkwardly. “Oh my gosh! I'm so sorry.” You look up slightly, the girl turns. 
Fabulous. 
Lorraine Smithfield. 
One of the many girls on Javier’s rotation. The one people are saying is the one. According to lunch gossip the two have been going on dates, apparently he drives her home now too. You screwed your brows and frowned to yourself, feeling jealous over a silly little crush. You always awaited the day you would finally be able to be in school with Javi but that fantasy crashed and burned the first week of school. You attended the school bonfire and there you saw Javier with a beer in his left hand and his arm slung over some girl. That was pre-Lorraine. 
But Lorraine is here now, It hurts all the worst when the girl is as pretty as she is. 
Lean, long blonde hair and killer brows. Ripped out of a magazine, and even sweeter, so you've heard. And your pastor's daughter. 
Well here she was, looking down at you with a sweet smile. “It's okay girlie,” she glances at the photographer and then tugs you into her side and forces you to be prepared for your high school photo op. A bright flash makes you blink hard and without giving you any time to think the coaches begin herding you to the sidelines. Lorraine still got her arm hooked with yours. Taking you with her. She smiles, flipping her blonde locks over her shoulder.  “Little Andrea Peña right?” 
Your heart slams in your chest and you look a bit confused, afraid she knows about your crush. 
But it's worse. 
Seeing your confusion, walking you off the field with the rest of the girls, she continues. “Don Chucho calls you little Andrea Peña, your Javis family friend, no?”
You blink rapidly, your mouth parted a bit. 
Great, beautiful, you think, making you sound like Javier's family, not inappropriate and mortifying at all. 
You nod, following her into the bleachers. My god she’s met his dad. Feeling your chest tighten you look at the ground as a final attempt to hide your red face. The feeling of being watched by all the students cheering doesn't go away. “Uh-sure. Brothers friend but-”
She cuts you off, “Do you want to sit with us, he's all the way in the end.” She points and you don't even bother following her finger. Your stomach twists in untangle-able knots at the thought of third wheeling, you smile weakly looking over your shoulder. Monica and Liandra were already settling down. Somehow, you could feel Javier's gaze. 
“I’m okay, but thank you.”
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Javier watches you from the bleachers. Lips quirking at its corners, he felt like he’s known you for much longer then he has. 3 years is a long time in high school.  He felt his chest tighten when he saw you in your small top at the 7/11, your skin spread flush when you realized it was him who had stopped in his tracks. 
Andrea?
Watching you run, your friends running in front of you, Liandra let go of your hand. He watched your face change, that face you always seem to make. Like a kid lost in a store, your lips parting and eyes wide. Javi still kept his eye trained on you as you—run straight into Lorraine.
Oh, right. 
The reason he showed up, the pretty girl he had been seeing. Javier didn't care for school events, especially anything involving the football team. Jonathan Saylor in his trig class had talked him up about the football team bucket list which included heinous acts, Javier moved his seat the next day, next to Lorraine. That's how it started.  The sweet girl who showed up at his house and accidentally met his father. His father who, could never shut up about you, telling his possible future girlfriend that;
Have you met little Andrea Peña? You two would get along well. 
Javi shot the illest look at his embarrassing dad.
Now you have and she's holding your arm dragging you towards him. He's exactly not sure why but the idea of you and Lorraine on either side of him makes him nervous. Like Javier is doing something wrong, like he's caught in the act.  You still have that face, like she said something that makes you turn red. It doesn't take much to get you all flustered, for Javi all it takes is a hello, he thinks it's sweet. 
Sometimes he wonders if you really did have a crush on him when you were younger or if it just was your brother teasing him. 
Lorraine points to Javi, his eyes widen and you don't bother looking up. 
You just say a few words and walk away, leaving Lorraine confused at the foot of the bleachers. You hurry away, head straight down like you were meaning to hide your face. And Javi watches you with concern, until you're walking up to your friends, still you somehow find a way to cover your face from his view. Lorraine furrows her brow as she walks up the steps to Javier’s side. 
“What’s Andreas' problem,'' Lorraine's voice calls him from his weird space of concern and chest pain, what's his issue? Javier furrows his brows, “She's a bit socially challenged or what?”
Javier’s eyes snap to his not yet girlfriend, annoyance bubbling. You were a shy kid, always have been even with him despite your closeness. Especially in school, every time he waved at you in front of your friends you would like you've just gotten pantsed in the middle of the hall. He didn't want to add salt to the wound by starting up a conversation and embarrassing you even more. Maybe you were just embarrassed of him. In some weird teenage girl way, and maybe he was embarrassing in that same teenage boy way. Maybe it was because he would say hi to you around Lorraine, but that was simply coincidence. “Don’t be an asshole.” Javi snapped. Lorraine frowns but slides her hand between Javier’s crossed arms. Her manicured hand held onto the bend of his arm.
 Javier’s eyes scan the football field and the rest of the bleachers, trying hard not to look at you again.
He does anyway and you're standing, arms crossed like him with a small pout. Javi looks down at the nails scraping his arm and then back at the side of your face.
��No one has their hand holding you as you stare off at the field, so maybe it was that. 
Javier straightens out his arms at his sides, dropping the girl's arm, earning another frown from Lorraine.
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“Has Laredo ever won a homecoming game?” 
“No, trust me I’ve been to all of them. It ends like this every time.” Monica yawns with you and Liandra on either side of her. The game was always a big deal and kind of fun, but for everything but the sports. It was really just the energy of the crowd and the idea of being allowed out late.
The sounds of metal creaking speared your ears but the sound of Liandra’s insane cackle makes it better. You're stumbling over your feet as you jam with the rest of the crowd at the end of the stairs. Liandra wanted to stay by the field entrance to wait for the players to leave, Brian looks hot sweaty were her words of encouragement.
So you all stand in the school parking lot, lit with food trucks and parents indulging in the nostalgia of being at homecoming. 
Out of the corner of your eye you see Javier approaching you and your friends, alone. You did your best to ignore him and the supermodel the entire two hours of the game. The one thing about caring too much about what others think is that you are unfortunately also on high alert of the looks from anyone… ever.
God forbid a look from Javier Peña.
Javier’s look is one far too familiar, so you could feel his eyes on you most of the game and it completely ruined your night. The whole time, arms cross trying to conceal whatever you were feeling in your belly. Like you were going to break if someone asked you if you were okay. 
And if they did, fuck because how do you explain to a normal person a crush this ridiculous. This serious to you at least. I mean you had to take a cold shower after he hugged you in 7-11. 
So again you did your best to ignore him, like you hadn't just seen him kiss Lorraine on the cheek and start walking towards you. 
“Andrea,” He calls and your friend's heads snaps towards him. Kill me now. You smile flatly at him. Coming closer, you let go of Monica's arm. He looks awfully handsome tonight, sporting a laredo high school hoodie, it was so casual that it made your head spin a bit. Again, it made your head spin again, you saw what he was wearing earlier when he was attached at the hip with Lorraine in a hoodie and denim he just looked like a boyfriend. And he’s standing in front of you and your friends, tall enough to block the light shining from the parking lot. “Can we talk?”
Your mouth parts slightly in pure horror, before you can even think Monica has her hand flat on your back, shoving you forward. 
“Uh–yeah sure.”
He says nothing and tilts his head away from your friends and walks. Your wet eyes widen and you give a pleading glance to your friends who couldn't give a damn. You follow Javi a few feet from your girls. 
You take a mental image of the position he has you in right now, you are against the field fence and he's in front of you, not too close but close enough that through the smell of deep fried goods you can smell that nutty cologne he always wears. 
“So?”
He narrows his eyes, “You met Lorraine.”
“I did, yes.”
You cross your arms, hiding in any way you can. You could make a run for it, if you tried. 
“Why didn't you sit with me?”
Your chest caves at that, but your face screws in confusion simultaneously so he’ll never know how flustered the question made you. “Why would I?”
It came out ruder than intended, Javier frowned, his gaze falling to the ground. “‘Cause Lorraine invited you.” His accent poking through.
“My friends were waiting on me, and I didnt feel like third wheeling.” You mumble the last bit and somehow, beyond all the noise of homecoming, he hears it. His lips twitching into a smile he has to bite back.
“You third wheel with Frankie and Genie every day-”
“We don't even hang out anymore” You cut him off, your emotions getting the best of you. Your voice was slightly whiny and annoying but you couldn't care, it was the truth. You were close when you were a tween, you're 2 months from sixteen now, he left without telling you a word. And fuck it, you were a bit pissed about it. You knew that the two of you weren’t best friends, Frankie was his best friend. But Javier was your friend too. 
Was your friend, now, you aren't so sure. 
He looks wounded, “Andrea come on now-”
“No–its true. Last time we hung out, like really spent time together, you were fifteen and I was thirteen. Sorry that I didn't want to tag along awkwardly with you and your girlfriend.”
His jaw ticked at that. And despite your burst of anger, when his softened eyes scan your body you find yourself fighting the urge of just kissing him once and for all. 
But the flare in his nostril makes you flush in a whole other way. In a way devoid of crushing, blushing and
kisses, just fear that he’ll say something to hurt you. 
“Lorraine isn't my girlfriend,” Just a girl who has met your dad you think. “and I didn't mean to upset you.” 
Your eyes widen at the half apology, and you're all flustered again. But before you can talk he–
“Next time I’ll think twice before I invite my best friend's kid sister to hang out. I apologize for trying to be polite and include you, god knows you used to whine about being left out.” 
You straighten up at the low blow, your heart slowly breaking at the unnecessary cruelness from the one boy who has ever been nice to you. The one you convinced yourself that his kindness wasn't  out of pity but maybe out of actually liking you, I guess not, I guess I was wrong. “Don't call me kid. We’re not even two years apart.” You grit, hating how childish you sounded in that moment. Sounding just like a fucking kid.
And he notices and laughs a mean one. The two of you stand in silence, waiting for someone else to hurt the other, it wasn't going to be you. You wouldn’t. 
And you hadn't known then, but it sure as hell wasn't going to be Javier. He hated seeing you cry and in that moment his brain was on fire, killing himself internally for taking it there with you. 
“Andrea–oh am I interrupting something?”
Your eyes snap to Brian as stood with his helmet in one hand, Javier still had his eyes peeled on you. You were so focused on your argument that you hadn't noticed the boy approaching you. Trying to figure out how to fix this with you, how to make up with you. Also trying to figure out why he feels torn in half after a small argument, why he feels like he’s going to be sick. 
“No”
“Yes”
You both say at once, your eyes narrowing at Javier who had said yes. The conversation was done for you, you just wanted Monica to take you home so you could cry over this, over everything. Over the fact that he called you out on what you were most insecure about, about how Lorraine wasn't even his girlfriend and has met Chucho, how she's been to his house. And cry hard at him calling you kid for crying out loud. 
The poor boy stares puzzled, his eyes scanning between the two of you. “Uh-I was just going to tell you that I’ll pick you up tomorrow at 5. You okay?” He places a large palm on your shoulder and you smile a small one, wrapping your hand around the boy's wrist.
“Yeah, I’m good–go-go change and go home, sorry about the loss today.” You throw in some fake sympathy. Like earlier you feel Javier’s gaze burn at the way you are holding Brian. 
He laughs, “Ya tú sabes, es lo que es. See you tomorrow then?”
You remove his hand and smile warmly, your eyes still wet from the threat of crying over Javier Peña who was fuming from behind you. “See you…”
Just when Brian gets far enough…
“What the fuck was that?”
Your nose scrunches and you turn with a look of annoyance at Javier. “What do you mean?”
His arms are crossed and he’s close to you, in that same annoying protective way he did whenever you two were out together during summer. It was a bit endearing and made the tips of your ears hot. Two summers ago he was like this, you remind yourself why you're pissed and that crush fog clears. 
“He’s too old for you. Homecoming? You’re a freshman.”
“Oh please Javi!” You groan and start walking away but he follows you.
“Go with me instead–he’s bad news.” His voice so whiny and urgent. 
Your heart drops but you don't have enough time to take him seriously. He's just stringing you along. You’ve had it with his pity, his selfish ways and how he looks at you like he’s about to get down on one knee. It fucks with your head. You turn to him one last time.
 “Please stop acting like you care, I don't feel left out anymore. I have my own friends and life now. You guys only had me around because my mom made you, cus’ i couldn't make friends but obviously-” You wave your hand in a half circle, he got the memo. “-Obviously I’m doing better now, so just please leave me alone.”
The look on his face, boyish, soft and hurt and at that point you just couldn't bear it. If you looked at him any longer you'd crumble and beg for forgiveness. If you gave him time to respond you would fold over for him once again
 So you leave him instead, this time you leave him. 
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Javi watched you go, his mouth dry and his chest in that strange pain. Driving home replaying how desperate he was the second he saw you with another man, what was his problem? How he had nearly seen red at Brian holding onto you like that.
The image of Brian in his shoulder pads making you blush spun in his head while he tried to sleep.
 It wasn’t until Javier was then, in his bed at 3 am when he was reminded of the football team bucket list.
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greydoesthearts · 5 months ago
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Faulty Memory
A/N: decided to post more writing here again ^^ this is a pretty direct continuation of my first swap!AU story, The Beginning of the End!! Major spoilers for that so I'd suggest reading those three chapters first, but otherwise I hope you enjoy :3
AO3 link
Extra note because not everyone is familiar with my swaps but the character referred to as "Ace" in this is Anti :]
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A trail of red, illuminated by moonlight and accompanied by muddy, scuffed footprints, was not something that Chase had thought he’d find on a night out on patrol, yet here he was, tailed close behind by Jameson whose mood was a complete 180 from Chase’s own.
While Chase was in awe of this mystery—after all, it was the first non-villain mystery he’d come to encounter and he’d been here several months—his buddy was… not so much. Still, Chase was convincing and was able to get Jameson to come along, as long as he agreed to the terms of letting Jameson be his senses, the lack of attention that Chase had the tendency of portraying being one of his bigger flaws in hero work.
The trail was long and twisting through this, undoubtedly well-off, neighbourhood they’d found their way into. They’d come across it originally, leading out of a small creek area and into the bunches of brick houses where families were probably sleeping about this time and wouldn’t want to be bothered by sounds of workers drawn to an emergency. But, oh well, Chase supposed. If someone was in trouble, it was up to him to save them!
And then Chase stopped. Jameson nearly collided into his back, the younger biting his lip and gesturing to the trail end on the ground in front of them and where it led.
The house was just like all of the others, but there was light peeking from behind the curtains, so whoever was home was probably also awake, and quite possibly the culprit, or victim, of whatever crime had been committed.
"CB," Jameson called quietly, keeping behind the fence surrounding the front of the property. "We shouldn't do this alone. Please."
Chase waved a hand. "Nonsense. We're just going to have a look around."
And he was certain that was all it would be, too. So, he slunk through the gate and walked up to the window, taking as good a look inside as he could without risking being seen.
"Grey carpets, no blood in sight. And, uh... an entryway with visible stairs to the second floor."
"Very well." Jameson stepped closer and pulled out a notepad to write down the findings. "Anyone in sight?"
"Hmm... doesn't look like it. The kitchen looks unused and dark, and there's nothing on the coffee table. They might have just forgotten to turn the light off before bed, to be honest. I'm gonna try to get another angle."
Jameson sighed, finally making his way through the gate to follow as Chase went out of sight. "This is trespassing, no matter if you find anything or not," he said matter-of-factly.
The hero didn't respond, leaving Jameson to follow the crunching of his footsteps through the dirt and sticks.
When he found him, Chase was peering through a dark window and Jameson panickedly approached and yanked him down. "You can't do that!"
Chase yelped quietly, falling on his ass. "There's someone in there, unconscious! We couldn't see this room from the front, I need to help them," he pleaded, giving Jameson a pout. "Please, help me open the window."
"No!" Jameson said immediately. "We can't do that! What we can do is phone the authorities and report suspicious activity. That's as far as I'm willing to put myself into this."
"Into what? Harm's way? You could beat the shit out of anybody any day, James! Come on--"
There was a sound above them suddenly, and Chase looked up to see a shadow at the window, tapping for their attention. The room was still dark, no light filtering out, yet the figure emitted a sort of light of its own that allowed them to see.
"Told you, James!" Chase said quietly.
He pulled himself out of Jameson's hold and stood back up to the window to get a better look at the figure inside. All he could make out was dark, streaked hair and dark eyes with bags, all on and surrounding a young man's face; he was scruffy and unkempt with freckles dotting about. The light seemed to be coming from below, but he couldn't bring his hands up to the window, tapping with the side of his head.
As he moved, Chase could see below the window ledge that bandages lined his neck.
"Are you hurt?" he asked, and the stranger in the window nodded with an even expression. "Trapped?"
Again, a nod, before Jameson found his way beside Chase. "I'm dialing for help," he said, holding his phone to the window. "Tell us your name and we'll sort this out, all right?"
"James, I don't think he can. He's got wraps on his neck, and they're bloody. He needs a medic more than anything."
"Yeah, they'll figure that out..." Jameson dismissed, letting himself back down as the call clicked through. "Hi, I believe a friend and I have stumbled upon a hostile kidnapping situation at--"
Chase tuned him out, looking back at the man. "Don't worry man, I'm sure you'll be okay as soon as the emergency services get here," he tried to soothe, but it just seemed to rile the man up, metal rattling against metal below the window. He mouthed words at Chase, but as much practice as he'd had at lipreading, the panic was too strong. "Slow down, slow down."
"They'll be here soon," Jameson said, but he could sense the panic coming from Chase. "Hey, come down and let's wait for help together."
But Chase wasn't listening to him. He watched the light die out from beneath the man and caught as he finally mouthed something clear to him, "GET DOWN. HIDE."
Chase listened to that clear as fay, dropping his grip from the window and pulling James to a bush beside the house nearby a path leading into the forest. He covered both of their mouths, as if Jameson would have the same impulse to speak, but he let it happen, listening to what was going on in the house.
"Somebody was out there, weren't they?" a male voice accused in a tone rough with exhaustion. "Don't lie to me!"
The one-sided conversation took a pause before the clank of metal happened again but bigger; a body hitting some kind of grate? But as quickly as that had happened, there was the sound of sizzling and a loud shout of pain.
The voice cursed in german. "Least you aren't trying to knock me out anymore. You know where that leads you, eh?" he laughed.
Sirens interrupted the whole of Chase and Jameson's eavesdropping evening. Chase had been unsure about it before but now he couldn't bear to witness what was going to happen.
"Fuck..." the voice spoke unexpectedly. "You'd better get me out of here right now, Ace. Or so help me, I will make even your life in hell miserable."
A gunshot, then a flash of brilliant light erupted out of the house.
It was quiet for a moment with just the sounds of the emergency vehicles as they pulled up and covered the front street of the house. People in vests made their way in first, busting the door down based on the sound.
But eventually the house was deemed clear and the hostage was saved, dragged out on a stretcher with a blanket over him and minimal equipment despite the seemingly fatal neck wound.
That was all Jameson remembered from that night. He'd never gotten as good a look at the man as Chase had, but he would remember that black sweater he was wearing as he was rolled out of the house, clear as day now.
Now. Mere weeks after Chase had been shot and killed in action. By that exact man they had saved.
Now. In his little magic bubble as he tried to figure out how to go back in time to stop everything that he had caused. He hadn't remembered befire but now he did, and...
Oh god, what had he done.
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annaplaybook · 11 days ago
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Can We Maintain Friendships Without Mods? - The Sims 1 💭
The relationship system in this game is realistically complicated. If I weren't using the in-game days to mimic a lifespan, I wouldn't mind how long it takes my Sim to make a friend.
I read a post on Reddit by Corylea about how to make friends, and I liked the idea. Also, her Eliminate Relationship Decay Mod is super useful. But since I play differently, where all my Sims have different personalities and interests to make them diverse from one another, and how some can be dramatic, I can't adopt this idea in my game. Playing with that idea would take away the authenticity and realism that I want. Still, the Eliminate Relationship Decay Mod can help keep our progress.
📞❤️📞❤️📞❤️📞❤️📞❤️📞❤️
What did I learn?
Phone calls are short and don't bring enough points. Sometimes calls even end because of a bad conversation. Phone calls work better if your Sim already has a friend with around 50 relationship points, they are more likely to talk without arguing, which keeps the relationship steady at around 60 or 70 points. This way, they can go a few days without worrying about losing touch.
It's better to spend time at a restaurant. While Sims are waiting for the food, they sit together and talk, which can take one or more Sim hours depending on how busy the waiter and chef are. And then there's extra time spent eating and sitting together afterward.
Downtown and vacation lots are better for making friends. Old Town has a limited number of visitors, since only neighborhood Sims show up on community lots. If your neighborhood is small, a hang-out there will feel very lackluster. Plus, you can't build restaurants there, so you'd need to make other interesting spaces for Sims to interact. Old Town is better for kids, as they can't go Downtown. Downtown and vacation lots, by comparison, are very lively, with lots of townies spawning alongside playable Sims.
Gift-giving helps too. The more expensive the gift, the more daily and lifetime relationship points go up. Giving a necklace or diamond ring works great for making a date go well.
Spending time on the same lot. When my Sim is at home, I use it as an excuse to invite another Sim over. If they have 20+ relationship points, they're more likely to agree. It's great for lifetime points, even if they don't interact. Watching TV together, eating together, or doing group activities like this increases the chances of a crush or even falling in love.
Summary:
Making a friend is like making friends with a playable Sim, but with a " time crunch." We need to make sure they're eating, having fun, and staying in a position where they can talk without walking away (like watching TV, eating, sitting in the jacuzzi, playing with objects, etc.). It doesn't necessarily have to be relied on interests, as sims can "bypass" them with other interactions.
It's definitely possible to make friends without mods, but it requires patience if your sim is busy with work and skill-building. Once relationship points reach 30, it's easier to invite them over or call them on the phone. But spending time together will definitely make a difference!
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📞❤️📞❤️📞❤️📞❤️📞❤️📞❤️
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monriatitans · 5 months ago
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Ta-Da! List: Saturday, June 29th
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The image was made in Canva; check it out at the [referral] link here!
I share my “Ta-Da! List” every day so everyone gets a daily update and I have a reminder of what I’ve accomplished.
To learn more about “Ta-Da! Lists”, and other ADHD life hacks, check out @adhdjesse’s book Extra Focus: The Quick Start Guide to Adult ADHD.
Abbreviations
- O&T: Opinions & Truth Blog - WGS: The Weekend Game Show - ASO: Artist Shout-Out - COTM/Q: Cause of the Month Quote - BMAC: Buy Me a Coffee - TDL: Ta-Da! List
Ta-Da! List
✧ throughout the day: - kept emails manageable - loaded the dishwasher - filled out today’s TDL
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ✧ on the mobile phone: - Hive: shared today’s ASO
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ✧ on the bedroom setup: - Movies: watched “The Nightmare Before Christmas”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ✧ on the office setup: - WGS: gave a human artist, Jordan Lucchino, a shout-out by sharing it on O&T, Tumblr, and other social media; in the WGS Carrd, changed “neurodivergent” to “ADtistic (ADHD + Autistic)”; prepared the ASO for tomorrow, Jun. 30th; on Twitch, changed the “Artist Shout-Out Criteria” link from O&T’s to the ASO Ko-fi’s - O&T: created a new pinned message on Threads - Design: in Canva, went through templates and changed “Feature Image” to “Header”; added dates to the “COTMQs Post Headers” and “Monthly Wrap-Up Annc. Headers” templates - Gaming: played “Final Fantasy XIV�� - YouTube: watched, listened to, and/or started: 1. Jim Sterling’s videos “Creepy Activision Wants To Know All About Their Employees’ Pregnancies”, “Idiotic Bill Proposes 10% ‘Sin Tax’ On Violent Videogames To Stop School Shootings”, “Corporate Parasites: Activision Pays Zero Income Tax, Gets A Refund Anyway”, “Net Neutrality: ISPs Can Throttle And Block Content So Long As They Admit It”, “EU Votes In Favor Of Article 13, Giving Copyright Holders Undue Power Over Internet Platforms”, “Should Activision Blizzard Be Hiring For Community Managers After Laying Off Community Managers?”, “Report: Epic Abusing Workers With Obscene Crunch Periods To Maintain Fortnite’s Success”, “Take-Two CEO Gets A Massive Bonus If People Spend Loads Of Money On Microtransactions”, “Pity Poor Waluigi”, “Switch Online Makes Nintendo Look Weak”, “How Fighting Games Are Carved Up To Extract Your Cash”, “Solo: A Single-Player Success Story”, “Nintendo, The Industry, And The Attack On Emulators”, “The Xbox One Is A Bit Shit”, “Harry Potter And The Crock Of Shit”, “Maybe The Wizard Game Just Wasn’t Very Good”, “The Game Awards Will Never Do Better”, “Sony Took Down A Shameless Rip-Off Of The Last Of Us On The Switch?”, and 2. Kasia Baba’s video “The Harmful Ideology of Radical Unschooling” 3. Sydney Watson’s video “Rage Bait: Influencers are making you mad ON PURPOSE”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ✧ chores and miscellaneous: - Food: had coffee, water, and grapes for breakfast; had grapes and Oreos for lunch; went to family dinner and had ice cream for dessert; had Pizza Goldfish as a snack - Chores: checked the mail
Well, these are all the updates I had for today! Thank you for reading!
May every decision you make be *in the spirit of fairness* and may the rest of your day *NOT go to $#!7*!
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ecodweeb · 5 years ago
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The Hyundai is Hexed
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I probably sealed my fate with it when I said, “Unlike the model 3, if it gets in a wreck the parts will be cheap and available!” Well, I must eat those words… and If you believe the Universe will get “those people” who do not believe in Tesla and Elon Musk, you will take extra delight in this parable. It would appear that in the world of EVs, no one is ready with parts on hand.
The Ioniq is the most efficient car sold in the United States, making it a fitting car for someone who calls himself the ecodweeb. Featuring a faster DC charger than the Chevy Bolt EV and a higher efficiency than the Tesla Model 3, it is very polite and compliant. it has great visibility, front passenger room, headroom, cargo capacity, and infotainment/instrumentation. Nearly all the parts I’ve had to acquire for it have been cheaper than the same one on my BMW i3. The first time we got to experience this was when my husband knocked the driver side mirror off in a construction zone. That was only $160 to repair, including the cost of painting the mirror cover. The glass for the i3 mirror was more than the entire repair for this car. Hoenstly, the car carried me 7,500 miles without a single complaint, until…
The Accidents
It’s a Tuesday, I’ve just left the gym during the lunch hour. I decide to be health conscious and get a burrito from Qdoba with Impossible foods fake meat. I got my lunch and got stuck on a road I do not usually take to work. I am on the phone with a State Park, asking them to leave out passport stickers for me. I take my foot off the brake when the turn lane begins to move. However, I forgot to turn on HOLD MODE. Most EVs do not creep. The Hyundai has a very strong creep, but they included a HOLD MODE override behavior so that the car will act like an EV and stay stopped when you take your foot off the brake. Activating HOLD MODE had become second nature to starting the car, but I forgot this time.
Blame it on the low blood sugar post-workout, the excitement of calling State Parks to request they leave out stickers for my after-work scavenger hunt, or just flat out inattention… As the left turn lane traffic started to move, I took my foot off the brake and planted it on the floor. As I went to end the phone call on the infotainment touch screen, I saw the car in front of me start to move, so I went towards the accelerator and then the car in front of me came to a dead stop. I went to jab the brake, but instead I hit the accelerator. Crunch. I’d now become a statistic (Google Translate needed): apparently Norway has seen an uptick in low speed collisions that has risen in parallel with their EV adoption rate. All that torque has to be respected, and my own experience tells me that no matter how muted the take off performance… there’s way more damage inducing power than other vehicles have. The damage was a little over $2100 to my car: Bumper cover, grille, styrofoam crash absorber, and some other bits and pieces. The other car had considerably less damage.
That whole day was a clusterfuddle: the non-emergency Police number was busy, the cop’s computer crashed while writing up the report, my insurance agency’s computers were down and their phone system wouldn’t let them make outbound calls (so they couldn’t forward me to the national support line), and the AAA computer crashed and sent my final tow truck to the wrong location.
Despite starting 3 times to move the car around the accident scene, the 12v battery died on me. Maybe I left the door open too long, who knows. It seems the special and puny 12v system on all Ioniqs is problematic, enough so that Hybrids have a 12v booster button. This is what it looks like when the 12v dies on the EV:
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It took 5 towing attempts to get the car moved ¾ a mile down the road to the Hyundai Dealership. Hyundai Roadside Assistance/AAA kept sending a flat bed when we needed a wrecker with wheel dollies for an all-4-off-the-ground transport. Finally, the right trucks shows up and we get to the dealer right before closing. The dealer’s computer system crashed while making the repair order.
There was some drama about whether or not they had a tech who could work on it, and as I’ve previous reported, Hyundai has a single electrification program for technicians. If they sell the hybrid, they can work on the full EV. They ended up merely jumping the 12v and sent me on my way.
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The car was very much driveable, in fact many of my recent State Park trips have been accomplished with the damaged front end. For the longest time – some 3,000+ miles (including the Louisville KY trip)– I had no issues.
I waited until after the Drive Electric Week showcase I organized to take the car in for service. The following Monday, on my way to the body shop, I was rear ended. Ok, this car is officially cursed. Not only was I rear ended, but this personal spoke little English and turns out they didn’t have a valid driver’s license. There was also much back and forth about if the car they were driving had insurance. Once we get all that sorted out, the repairs began. That’s when we found out that no one is prepared for EVs to get into accidents.
And now the cons…
I have the most base model Ioniq sold in the world, apparently. I do not have the autobraking system, which is apparently required in most countries the car is sold in. As a result, I have a different grille than the other cars. Luckily, the bumper and grille were in stock in California and showed up in no time. Except the grille was cracked, so they had to order another one. This grille came in fine, but the sytrofoam crash absorber hadn’t come in yet. The part was being replaced because a small alignment tab had snapped off when the grille brushed against it in the collision. The actual crush zone of the foam was not impacted at all. But, the part must be replaced. This is when we found out it will be the third week of October before that part will be back in stock. After convincing the manager at the body shop, they gave me back the car with the original parts installed until the part came in. Turns out they reinstalled the license plate frame, which I asked them not to do, so I’ll end up having more body work done when it comes back at the end of the month.
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Having gotten the car back, I decided to hit up Morrow Mountain State Park and get my 28th stamp. All seemed fine, until I finished charging in Greensboro on my way to the park. A lady pulled up and asked me about the Electrify America stations, cost, how far my car can go, etc. She’s retired, driving her dad’s old 84 Buick, and she’s looking to replace it in the next year. As we are talking, the charge finishes and the car starts running the infotainment system from the 12v. I realize the charge finished and went to start the car so that the infortainment would run off the high voltage traction battery. The car won’t start.
The nice lady gave me a jump, and I managed to drive to Morrow Mountain and back to Greensboro - 132 miles - on a single charge. I charged up to 91% and headed to downtown Raleigh for dinner with friends. An hour and a half later, I go to leave and the car won’t even turn on all the displays the battery is so dead. My friends run me home to grab my jump box, we jump it and I get home. I figure charging the HV battery will also charge the 12v and I’ll be fine for tomorrow - when I have a rescue cat transport.
I was sorely mistaken. It was as dead as it was the night before. So I jump it and head to Advance Auto Parts and buy a battery that could be zip tied into place in the event that a factory battery couldn’t be obtained - since this should be warranty.
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I get to the dealer and they confirm the battery should be warranty covered, and that is costs over $450. They write up the car and tell me the other Hyundai dealer happens to have the battery on hand and that they’ve sent someone to get it. Well, that battery was dead on arrival - in worse state than the battery from my car according to the computer test. I knew this would happen, but the service team was in disbelief. They agree to put the car back together so I can run to Winston and come back with the cat. I arranged with the adopter to meet me at the Hyundai dealer, and I set off. I had no issues charging in Greensboro on the outbound leg, but the car wouldn’t start when I stopped to charge on the return. I jumped it and got to the dealer, where I handed over the cat and asked the nice adopters for a ride home. The car battery was so dead I couldn’t pop open the charge port to show the service advisor how to plug the car in (I was at 18% and the car needed to charge).
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I wasn’t sure the dealer would plug the car in, but about 23 hours later I got a push notification that the car had completed charging. I was thrilled to see that they honored my request  - they really have gone above and beyond for me, even when Hyundai corporate wouldn’t (regarding the crash absorber part delay). I got a call from the dealer on Monday, Hyundai has approved the purchase of an interstate battery for the car to do a parasitic drain test on. The battery will arrive no later than Wednesday, so there is a glimmer of hope that I’ll have a functional car back by the end of the week.
Now I just need to figure out what I’m doing with this spare battery I can’t return…
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hanjisungs-bigtittyg0thgf · 3 years ago
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Overtime
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boss!chan x personal assistant!fem reader
Trigger warnings: name-calling, intimidation 
Content warnings: oral (m&f receiving), names (baby girl, dearest, good girl, babydoll, baby, slut, whore), daddy kink (obviously), praise, degradation (don’t ask me why i put both praise and degradation in here, i’m a whore), spanking (kinda? anyways we love a good ass slap), chan folds you like a pretzel then holds your hand while finishing you off cause he’s caring like that. minho makes an appearance early on.
Summary: you work as bang chan’s personal assistant. with a comeback on the horizon, he tells you he needs you to pull some serious overtime.
Word count: 5562
A/N: be sure to check out the video i’m about to post, it was kind of the inspiration for the bj part lmao anyways y’all want me to save you seats in hell?
Smut below the cut
You let out a frustrated sigh as you pocketed your phone, which had just buzzed with a message from your boss. You were about to clock out for the day when he asked you to come to his studio. Your kitten heels clicked against the hardwood floor as you made your way to the tiny room where the magic happened. Except it wasn’t magic when you’d already been in the building for eight hours, barely getting a moment to sit as you ran this way and that for him.
 You straightened your clothes before reaching out to knock on the charcoal door. It swung open before you even finished and you were met with a bright smile. “Come in.” Chan urged as you plastered a pleasant expression on your face. Despite the crush you had on him, you were annoyed and had to fake a smile.
 Yes, you worked for Bang Chan. The Bang Chan, the leader of fourth generation KPop idol band Stray Kids and the mastermind behind almost every hit track they’d ever performed. You were his personal assistant and the unnervingly beautiful man had been irritating you beyond belief today with all the running about he’d made you do. “You wanted to see me?” You prompted as he closed the door to his studio while you perched on the arm of the sofa that sat across the shoebox room from all his equipment.
 “Yeah. So…” he looked sheepish and regretful and you felt a ball of anxiety settle in your stomach. What bad news was he about to break to you? “As you know, we just announced a comeback to the team.” You felt yourself deflate. You’d worked for him just long enough to have witnessed two comebacks and he never slept during that time. He’d be extra crabby the next few weeks. Maybe he was apologizing in advance for that? “I hate to do this to you but I’m gonna need you to stay late until we start promotions. On days I’m not in the studio, like days where I’m doing a photo shoot or an interview, I’ll give you the day off to make up for it. So you’ll have a day off once or twice every couple of weeks until we start the jacket shooting and filming the music video, then it’ll be even more frequent. You’ll keep your weekends, I won’t take that from you. But starting tonight, I’m gonna need you here until ten.”
 You wanted to fucking scream. Instead, you let out a sigh and pulled your phone out to call your roommate. Chan looked on in confusion as your roommate answered the phone, you forcing him to maintain eye contact. “Hey. I know you said you wanted to cook for me tonight but I won’t be home until almost eleven. Can you just put my share in the microwave and I’ll heat it up when I get there?” He looked upset that he’d ruined your plans and he bowed his head as your roommate questioned you. “Yeah, they’re working on an album and it’s crunch time so he needs me here until ten for the next couple months. I’m sorry. Give Daisy kisses for me, yeah?” She let out a disappointed sigh as you hung up and Chan rubbed his neck awkwardly.
 “Hey, look, I’m really sorry. This comeback is different. If it weren’t for that I’d only ask you to stay until seven, which I know isn’t what you signed up for either.” He sighed and sat down at his desk, turning to face the monitor which displayed a track he was mixing just before you arrived. “On the bright side, you’ll get a fat check for it. The company gives time and a half for any overtime, as you know, and I will personally provide a bonus.”
 “Gee, you’re my boss, not my sugar daddy.” You teased as you settled in, knowing it would do no good to stay mad when you couldn’t leave for another five hours. You weren’t much younger than him so the two of you usually shared playful banter throughout the day. You let out a soft laugh but he didn’t laugh with you and you immediately thought you’d fucked up. “I’m sorry, I was just-“
 “I could be.” His voice was much lower than usual and your stomach filled with bats. Not butterflies, that was far too tame. Your stomach was full of bats, violently flapping their wings as they tried to escape. “I could easily give you anything you wanted in return for your…affections.” When you didn’t answer, he spun in his chair to face you. You could barely see him, he’d already switched off the overhead light in favor of the desk lamp beside his computer and the light behind him made it hard to see anything more than a silhouette. The room was filled with a warm glow but the fire he’d just started in your body was far warmer. “I see you staring at me, day in and day out. You can’t deny you find me attractive. I can see it now, written all over your face.”
 Somehow, you found your voice. “Well I’ve got eyes, haven’t I?” You quipped and he gave a disdainful laugh, the sound shooting straight to your pussy. You really needed to stop allowing yourself to enjoy being degraded. You took a steadying breath as you stood, shaking your head. “Mr. Bang, I do believe you’ve cracked open that special bottle of gin you call ‘motivation’ and mustered up a startling amount of courage. I will be taking my leave for another coffee run now.”
 You spun on the ball of your foot and started for the door. You barely had it open an inch when it was slammed back shut as Chan’s large hand splayed out over the dark surface, his arm by your head. You stepped to the side so you could turn to face him without bumping into him, fully intent on pushing him away, and the second you were facing him, his other hand slammed against the door. His head was hung low but the second he had you caged, he moved to look at you and you wanted to evaporate on the spot.
 His expression was dark and seductive, his tongue pressed against the inside of his cheek in annoyance. When your gaze met his, your face heated up and you couldn’t maintain eye contact this time, your head turning. “You’re not going anywhere. You’re paid to do what I tell you.”
 How was he doing this? He was normally just a sweetheart with a weird sense of humor. You’d seen fans online discussing him being a daddy dom type but you never put much stock into it. He seemed too normal. Yet here you were, trapped in his studio as his eyes devoured you like he was a starved man and you were the last crumb of food he could find.
 “Look at me.” You refused, shaking your head. You feared you’d do something that could cost you your job if you so much as glanced in his direction. This only served to irritate him further and the hand that had initially slammed the door shut harshly gripped your jaw, forcing you to turn your head towards him. “I said look at me.”
 You forced your eyes open against your better judgment and he smirked. You felt like you’d just opened a door you couldn’t hope to close as his strong hand wrapped around your neck. Your lashes fluttered at the way he held you against the door, your expression practically begging him to kiss you, and he almost scoffed at the pathetic sound you made. “What a whore.” He jeered and forcefully released you, stepping back. “Why don’t you go get that coffee, dearest?” His tone was scathing and it was obvious that he was playing some game of push and pull that you weren’t sure you wanted to be involved in.
 You needed no further convincing, quickly slipping out of the room and skittering down the hallway like a kicked puppy. You repeatedly pressed the elevator call button until the doors slid open and the second they closed behind you, you braced yourself against the wall. Your chest heaved as your head tipped back, the sound of your labored breathing mingling with the occasional ding of the elevator signaling your descent. What the hell had just happened and why were you so worked up over it?
 You took a few deep breaths as the elevator neared your desired floor, not wanting to be seen so flustered. You made your way to the little diner located on the ground floor of the building and went straight for the coffee bar. You made both your coffee and his absentmindedly, the memory of his expression bouncing around your skull and putting you in a daze. A trainee greeted you as he returned his dirty dishes and you gave a halfhearted response.
 You practically jumped out of your skin when you felt a large hand on your shoulder, almost spilling the coffee you’d just fixed. “Hey, calm down. It’s just me. Are you okay?” You turned to see Lee Minho staring at you with clear concern. He’d just come from one of the practice rooms if the sheen of sweat on his gorgeous face was any indication.
 “Uh- um- yeah I’m fine.” You lied, flashing him a smile. You were most definitely not fine. You weren’t sure if you were bothered by how wet you were or if you were bothered by how little time it took for Chan to get you that way, but you most definitely were not fine.
 And it seemed Minho could tell. “Stop lying. What did he do to you?” He crossed his arms and you shook your head. He raised a perfectly groomed eyebrow at you but you still refused to answer. Finally he rolled his eyes and plucked Chan’s coffee from your hands. “Clearly he did something to upset you. I’ll go talk to him and-“
 “No! No, it’s fine. I’m fine.” You took the coffee back and forced a smile. “I’m kinda stuck here for the next five hours anyways.” His confused expression encouraged you to explain a bit more. “He told me he needs me here until ten every night until you guys start promoting. Said this comeback is different so he’s gonna need me to put in overtime.”
 “That’s…utter bullshit, but okay.” He sighed and you nodded in agreement. “Sure, this one is different, we just gained a lot of popularity and it’s an extended album. But an extra five hours every night? That’s insane.”
 “I mean, at least I’m getting paid time and a half for my efforts?” You shrugged, trying to find the positive. You’d already found the positive, one of the hottest men in the industry - possibly the world - had just propositioned you, but that wasn’t the point. You let out a sigh and shook your head. “It’ll be fine. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to get this upstairs before it gets cold. It was nice seeing you.” You flashed a smile - genuine this time - and turned to leave, paying for the drinks on your way out.
 Your reprieve was far too short and you found yourself moving slowly as you made your way back to the studio. The click of your heels wasn’t nearly as purposeful as before, your gait indicating you weren’t prepared to see him. Why would you be? He’d just pinned you to the door and toyed with you. Your boss of all people!
 You tucked one of the drinks in your arm to free your hand and tapped on the door. He took longer to let you in this time but his expression was playful once more. “Which one’s mine?” He chirped as you walked past him, kicking your shoes off and taking your place on the sofa once more.
 “Here.” You held out his drink and he took it eagerly, his expression akin to that of a child on Christmas morning. The man loved his coffee. “You’re such a kid.” You chuckled softly and shook your head as he sat down and spun the chair back towards his desk, sipping happily on his coffee.
 You, being the coffee fiend you are, downed your drink in a matter of minutes. You disposed of the cup and just as you sat again, he called for you. “Something came unplugged under the desk. I’ll show you which one.” He said as he stood.
 Seriously? In a pencil skirt? You stifled an irritated groan and slid off the couch, onto your knees. You crawled under the desk and looked for the cord he was wiggling. You didn’t catch him staring at your ass but if you’d looked over your shoulder, you would’ve seen him practically drooling. You followed the cord to the end and saw it was still plugged in but not very securely so you fixed it. But before you could crawl back out from under his desk, Chan trapped you once again. “You’re too tense. You should loosen up a little. Have some fun.” He leaned back in his chair and smirked at you.
 “I have plenty of fun, thank you.” You spat and placed your hands on his knees, fully prepared to push him away from the desk. He quickly grabbed your wrists to stop you and you paused. Oh. He wasn’t just toying with you to work you up. He was an ornery bastard when he was horny, it seemed.
 “So show me what it’s like to have fun with you.” He didn’t seem as intimidating as before. He looked far more relaxed despite the tent in his pants that stood right in front of your face. “Don’t worry about being left hanging, I’m eager to return the favor.” His expression darkened and you gulped. There it was. If he said one more word using that tone, you’d break. “I bet your moans would sound so pretty hidden in a track…”
 You couldn’t keep your hands from moving. Despite his best efforts, neither could he, it seemed, because you broke free of his grasp and quickly popped the button of his dad jeans. That was another issue you had with him. He could wear some of the most questionable things and still look effortlessly sexy. Even the dad jeans looked amazing on him, clinging to his thighs in a way that made your mind go blank. You made quick work of the zipper too and looked up at him expectantly. This was not how you’d expected your overtime to be used.
 He lifted his hips for you and a moment later his pants were around his knees. He hissed as you wrapped your hand around his dick and your mouth watered. He was perfect. A thick eight inches that just barely fit in your hand, the tip the same dusky shade of pink as his lips, which were parted in anticipation. You wondered if he’d be the first man to punch your cervix. Ah I’m getting ahead of myself.
 “Look at me.” You parroted his words from before in a whisper, watching his jaw tick in annoyance at being told what to do as you tried not to let an evil grin take its place on your face. You couldn’t help it, you were irritated with him over how he’d handled things today. With his eyes locked on yours, you stuck your tongue out and teased the tip. He let out a sigh as your lips closed around the head, your tongue teasing the slit.
 “Just like that, baby girl…” he groaned, his hands holding your hair back from your face as you hollowed your cheeks. The name sent a thrill through you and you let out a soft whine against him before taking him as far as you comfortably could, earning a choked sound. “Fuck, baby, slow down..” he rasped, his head falling back as his eyes drifted shut.
 You refused, easing yourself further down and trying not to gag. That battle was lost when he gave a shallow thrust, the tip of his cock slipping down your throat. You swallowed several times to fight the gag but this only spurred him on, a series of low moans tumbling from his plump lips as he bucked his hips repeatedly. The sound scratched an itch in your brain you didn’t know existed.
 You pulled off a moment later, much to his dismay, gasping for air as you jerked him off. Your throat was gonna hurt so bad by morning. His moans pitched up ever so slightly as you gave him a squeeze, his grip forcing you back down on his cock. It wasn’t very far, he seemed to have some semblance of pity on your abused throat. “Fuck, baby girl, you’re fucking amazing..”
 The praise made you squirm, your thighs pressing together in a desperate attempt to get some sort of relief from the flood of arousal that washed over you. His words and the weight of his dick on your tongue were driving you up the wall in the best way possible. So you were visibly disappointed when he suddenly pulled you off. Damn your oral fixation. You let out a whine but he shushed you, his attention turning to the door.
 “Wait.” He ordered and pushed his chair across the tiny room, reaching out for the door. You frowned as you watched him, your annoyance not fading even when you realized he hadn’t locked the door. He was remedying that but you were frustrated at losing contact. You still didn’t get your way even as he came back to you. “Get up.”
 When you didn’t immediately move, he grabbed you by the shoulders and pulled you from under the desk, forcing you to stand. He stood with you, kicking the chair aside as he untucked your plain white blouse and began undoing the buttons one by one. At least he had the decency to do that instead of ripping your clothes off like you wanted him to do. Your own hands went behind your back to unzip your skirt but he quickly took your wrists in his hands, shaking his head. “Shouldn’t I get to unwrap my own present?” You shuddered at his tone and nodded slightly, unable to meet his gaze. “Good girl.”
 You whimpered at the name and watched a smirk settle on his face as he shoved your blouse down your arms and tossed it aside. He pulled you flush against him as his warm hands slid to your back. “Look at me.” You didn’t want to. You really didn’t want to. But your eyes met his almost instantly and his expression was smug as his fingers deftly unhooked your bra and tugged on the zipper of your skirt. In a matter of seconds, you were left in only your black thong.
 A complaint at his lack of nakedness was forming on the tip of your tongue when he squeezed your ass, earning a soft gasp. He didn’t seem like someone with a lot of experience based solely on the fact he’d been in the industry for over a decade so he played by the rules and rarely left his studio. But the way his capable hands began to knead your ass before sliding up to squeeze your hips was telling you he’d had his fair share of late night rendezvous. He spun with you in his arms and gently pushed you down on the sofa, leaving you desperate for his touch as he whipped his shirt off and shimmied the rest of the way out of his pants. He knew exactly how to wind you up.
 He was beautiful and it was hard not to stare, your eyes practically fucking him already. His low chuckle brought you back to yourself and your face heated up when he knelt in front of you. “Lean back.” Your body was now following every order as if on autopilot. You leaned back and let your head rest on the back of the couch, gasping when he snapped the waistband of your panties against your skin.
 He didn’t pull them off just yet, much to your dismay, instead dragging a finger over the wet patch. He pushed your legs up so your heels rested just on the edge of the couch and began to trail sloppy kisses along the insides of your thighs. You felt his palms smoothing over the backs of your thighs before his thumb began tracing circles over your sopping pussy, his free hand kneading your ass once more. He continued to toy with you until he was satisfied with how strung out you were, finally pulling your panties to the side and blowing on you. You let out a shaky breath, eyes half-lidded as you met his gaze with anticipation.
 When his tongue met your pussy, you let out a soft sigh. Finally. You bit your lip as he began to flick his tongue back and forth over your clit, further working you up until his lips encased the bundle of nerves and he sucked. You mewled at the sensation and your eyes slipped shut as your hands tangled in his hair. It was softer than you’d imagined considering all the bleach he’d endured. In the back of your mind, you knew you shouldn’t be doing this considering the power dynamic. He was your boss. But fuck he knew how to eat pussy.
 Despite your eyes being squeezed shut, you were seeing stars. He was alternating between sucking on your clit and rolling his tongue against it in a way that made the fire under your skin burn even hotter. Your moans were high and breathy as you bucked against his face.
 “Chan-“ your voice was a desperate moan as you called his name, squirming against him as his large, veiny hands held your hips in place. Your eyes flew open and you immediately looked down at him when he pulled away, a soft cry of protest slipping out before you could contain it. Why did he stop? His jaw ticked in annoyance and your pussy clenched around nothing at the sight as he stared up at you disdainfully. “Chan, why’d-“
 “Daddy.” He corrected, his stern voice sending a tingle of pleasure down your spine. “When I’m fucking you, you don’t get to call me Chan. You call me daddy. Understood?” He swatted your thigh and you whimpered, nodding quickly. The implication that this wasn’t a one off event wasn’t missed and you sucked your bottom lip between your teeth at the thought. He slapped your sensitive skin again when you didn’t speak up and your body jolted. “Words, baby girl. Do you understand?”
 “Y-yes, daddy…” you whispered and he flashed a mocking smile at you, just barely satisfied with your answer. He moved to dive back between your legs but you tugged at his hair to stop him, instinctively calling out his title. He looked back up at you and raised an eyebrow even as his lips reconnected with your sopping heat, repeatedly kissing there. He was making it damn near impossible to protest. “Please just fuck me, daddy..” you whined, barely able to get the words out due to him mouthing at your pussy.
 “I think that’s the best idea you’ve had all night, baby.” He sneered, straightening himself and pulling your panties off. You barely had time to blink before your legs were resting on his shoulders as he stood on his knees. You tried to shimmy yourself down onto his cock but he pulled his hips back. “Tell me, babydoll, are you always this fucking desperate?” He taunted and you whimpered.
 “Maybe, maybe not. I guess you’ll have to find out.” You huffed, not willing to give a straight answer. You didn’t think about the fact you’d just invited him to continue toying with you like this for the foreseeable future.
 “I fully intend to. And I’m gonna see to it that your desperation is directed at me from here on. I’m going to own every cell of your body and you’re going to remember this for months. You’re going to dream about my hands all over your body and the way I fill you up just right. You’ll want to be nothing more than my possession. You’re going to enter this studio wondering when you can be mine again, on edge every time I look at you. And I’m going to toy with you like some sick game of cat and mouse every chance I get. So that the next time I touch you, you’ll fall apart at the seams and beg me to put you back together.”
 Holy shit. His words were delivered in a tone so demeaning you felt like melting into the sofa as the fire under your skin seemed to reignite with a vengeance. You were lost for words but he didn’t give you a chance to form a coherent thought anyways. He was already shoving his cock into you, stretching and filling you in a way you’d never felt before. He was definitely going to be the first man to punch your cervix.
 “Fucking hell, baby..” he groaned, his head falling back and giving you the perfect view of his jaw. You wanted nothing more than to suck hickeys into the column of his throat. His neck was just so thick and you wanted to bite him. “You’re so tight like this…” he praised, his head coming back down and turning just enough for his lips to meet your calves. It seemed your desire to bite was mutual because his teeth raked over your skin a moment later and you keened.
 “Daddy, please-“ you begged, your voice merely a whisper. You didn’t know what you were begging for, you just knew you needed to beg for anything he’d give you. He didn’t give you a moment to adjust to his size, he simply set a torturously slow pace. The drag of his cock was almost unbearable with how deliberately slow he was being and you found yourself trying to meet his thrusts, needing more of the delicious sensation.
 “Look at you, already begging like a good little slut.” You knew he was making fun of you but praise was praise even if it was backhanded and you couldn’t dream of stifling the moan he drew out. “Maybe you do know how to be a good girl instead of a dumb little fuck hole.” You wanted him to keep talking down to you and he seemed to know this. “I don’t hold much hope in that though. You can’t even string together a few words for me and I haven’t even started fucking you dumb yet.”
 “Please do.” You moaned, jolting when he slapped your ass. He gave you a pointed glare and you realized your mistake. “Please fuck me dumb, daddy, I need it!” You wailed, grateful for the soundproof walls. If it weren’t for that, anyone left in the building would know exactly what Chan was doing to you.
 The change in pace made your toes curl and you felt your whole body burning up from the inside. The way his dick abused your cervix was giving you delicious pangs of pain. Your back arched as he slammed into you and you let out a feeble cry when your shifting gave him the perfect angle. It was all downhill from there, Chan degrading you as you babbled on about how good it felt. You could feel the coil in the pit of your belly winding tighter with each thrust and you whimpered out some sort of warning but he slapped your ass, the harsh blow eliciting a soft cry. “I already told you to use your words.” His voice was far more strained than before as he hammered into you and you wondered just how close he was.
 “Daddy, please- I’m so close- ‘m gonna cum, please lemme cum, daddy-“ you sobbed, tears you didn’t know you had finally spilling over. He didn’t speak, he simply held steady in his pace and took your hands in his. You felt so small and delicate when he did that, like he was afraid of breaking you while he guided you through your orgasm. Wave after wave of white-hot pleasure crashed over you, your body shaking from the force of it. Your voice came out as a choked sob rather than a moan and you felt like you were ascending.
 Chan didn’t ask where you wanted it, he couldn’t have hoped to last through your orgasm anyway with the way you squeezed him. His hips slowed as he let out a groan much higher-pitched than you’d anticipated. Your mind went as numb as your legs as his cum filled you to the brim, leaking out when he pulled out. You shuddered at the feeling and slumped back on the sofa, panting and trying to stop your tears. You wanted to cry harder when he let go of your hands.
 Warm hands gently lowered your legs before wiping your cheeks. His touch was feather-light as he tried to dry your tears. It was a stark contrast to the way he’d just used you and it seemed to sooth you. You peeked out for only a moment before closing your eyes again when you saw how close he was. His lips met your forehead and you forced yourself to take a deep breath. “You’re such a good girl, y/n. You did amazing.” He whispered, his thumbs brushing back and forth over your cheekbones.
 You felt him move away and opened your eyes, pouting at him. He gave a halfhearted laugh at your expression and pulled you towards him, moving so he was on the sofa and you were sat sideways on his lap. “I’m sorry if I came on too strong.” His voice was barely above a whisper as he urged you to lean into him. You didn’t need to be told twice, immediately laying your head on his muscular shoulder and tucking your face in his neck. “Are you okay? That was pretty intense…”
 You nodded and he let out a sigh of relief. “I like intense…” you mumbled against his neck. “I didn’t expect intense from you of all people but I liked it.” You assured him, definitely inflating his ego. But then you remembered something he said and you couldn’t stop the teasing smile that settled on your face. “Did you get everything you needed for the track?”
 He laughed harder than you’d expected and tightened his arms around you. “Maybe, maybe not. I guess you’ll have to find out.” He copied your previous words in a playfully mocking tone. Basking in the afterglow with Chan was different from anything you’d ever experienced. He was so attentive and warm. After a few minutes of comfortable silence, your fingers tracing lines and shapes on his chest while he ran his veiny hands up and down your back, he spoke. “I hope you know I wasn’t just using you. That this wasn’t some sick power play.”
 “I know.” You whispered, kissing his jaw. “I’ve worked with you long enough to know you’re not like that. If I’d genuinely not wanted to do this, things wouldn’t have changed. Maybe it would’ve been kinda awkward for the next couple of days after the whole ‘I could be your sugar daddy’ thing, but you know when to stop.” You let out a content sigh and pulled back to look up at him. “You were right though. I definitely am gonna be on edge every time I step in this studio.” You chuckled softly as you looked up at him.
 “I just realized something.” He gave a huff of disdainful laughter as the thought hit him. For a moment you thought he was going to toy with you again but you realized quickly that he was mocking himself. “I did all that to you but didn’t even kiss those pretty lips.” His tone was far different from the disbelief that made itself known a moment before. He was bordering on coquettish as the playful gleam returned to his eyes, his lips curling into a half smile. Your cheeks flushed a soft pink at the blatant flirting and you whined as you ducked your head back into his neck but he pulled you back. “Can I?”
 You gave the tiniest of nods, flustered once more by the switch in his personality. How was he so smooth in every situation? Every thought you had, fled your mind the second his lips touched yours. His hand tangled in your hair as he sucked gently on your bottom lip, drawing a soft gasp from you. No one had kissed you like that before. You were reluctant to let him break the kiss but he pressed his forehead to yours as you both caught your breath. Both of you wore tiny smiles as if you shared the biggest secret, his fingers lightly massaging your scalp as your breath mingled with his.
 You were falling in love with your boss. It would be a mess of red tape later but for now, you’d just enjoy his affection.
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1ddiscourseoftheday · 3 years ago
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Mon 14 June ‘21
Louis Tomlinson Cooks is here!! Yeah it’s 100% for sure as delightful to watch Louis make himself a sandwich as you might have hoped, but how was his cooking? Well I’ll let Louis rate himself-- “I’m not gonna lie not that appetizing is it, I mean look at it,” he says when it comes time to taste his creation, plus, “chopping peeling slicing not great to be fair- everything else I’m all right” (he’s… not wrong, even aside from the peeler issues has this man ever held a knife??) but- “it probably tastes nice though as I said it’s not about presentation for me… [munches cutely]... it’s actually pretty banging, that’s actually quite nice!” Success! Maybe it’s cause he knows the secret to faking good cooking- “as you can see I don’t have a lot of cooking ability so the more butter the better,” I mean the experts can tell you, that’s advanced stuff right there! #Louis-aChild! Substituting mustard and ketchup for coleslaw is a bit of a bold move, but in a belated attempt to convince the kiddos to eat some healthy veg even though he won’t he does bravely try the cucumber strips despite being “not really a man for cucumber” and makes a pained attempt to be positive- “bit of crunch.” Oh and speaking of crunch I’m relieved to have learned that the waffle is NOT a waffle, it’s a crispy waffle shaped bit of potato; a much more reasonable fish sandwich addition than the American version of a potato waffle! Full Time Meals polled to see what people think of Louis cooking; the two choices are “it was amazing” and “the best,” THEY GET IT. My kind of Louis poll! Helen Seamons rated him a “10/10 for effort and entertainment”, Masterchef acknowledged Louis as one of their own, and Marcus Rashford keeps it simple- “my guy” with a lil heart. YEAH, SAME.
Harry showed up in Italy, where he was papped in Venice being driven around (with PA Luis) on a boat (as you do, in Venice). He’s in a cool embroidered Bode shirt and shades and fancy hair, looking good. He’s seen carrying his suitcase, taking photos, and resting his head on his arms looking like a model. One might think, since we just saw the My Policeman cast and crew on set celebrating the wrap of the shoot, that they were done filming and Harry was off to do something different, but nope, he’s there to film! The book has key scenes in Venice that folks had been wondering about the filming of, and David Dawson is also being boated around Venice for the paps, so, it seems that was just for the wrap of the *UK* filming, which makes sense I guess since it would mostly be different crew I imagine, and perhaps some of the main cast are done as well.
Liam’s NFT sale is happening tomorrow! If you’re confused and want more info, I’M NOT GONNA HELP THAT MUCH… uh but I mean you can check out Liam’s youtube video explaining though I would guess that won’t help much (even Liam thinks so; “there’s probably websites that explain a lot better than me” he admits). There is a roundup now posted of what’s on offer for the buyers of the NFTs but I’m gonna be really honest with you, I’m more confused now than I was before. It’s clear that there are only SIX LONELY BUG NFTs right? They for sure said that I believe. But the packages for each different piece (token bundles) seem to me like they’re available to multiple buyers? Like maybe you don’t get the NFT but multiple top bidders on each get the extras? Like they can’t be selling multiple copies of the NFT... can they?! Isn’t the WHOLE POINT that only one person gets to own it? I DON’T FUCKING KNOW I AM SORRY. What I think I understand to be true: the six NFT buyers get to go to “a once-in-a-lifetime immersive dining experience at Resorts World Las Vegas” (this is the dinner with Liam and “a selection of crypto leaders from around the world” which takes place on display inside a giant glass box) and also “a bespoke commemorative presentation box containing the world’s leading holographic display... with audio... and a custom made Lonely Bug commemorative coin,” and “a unique QR code directing the owner to a special ‘Director’s Cut’ edit of the short digital film ‘Making Of Lonely Bug Collection’ which features unreleased footage from the day of the drop showing the creators' reactions when the winning bids came in” (I mean YEAH I would think it’s unreleased it literally hasn’t happened?) But then there are really a lot of other extras including tickets with Meet & Greet access to any Liam Payne headline show around the world, admission to pool and cinema parties in Vegas with Liam, signed art, non-Liam extras (I will literally bid to NOT have 20 minute phone calls with those crypto entrepreneurs PLEASE… but that’s just me), and access to an online party hosted by Liam; I really get the impression many of these, especially the last one, are just crypto tokens that are for sale that aren’t linked to the main Lonely Bug NFTs and many more than 6 people can buy them but a lot of the extras I’m not clear on which it is. Perhaps tomorrow I’ll understand better WE WILL SEE.
Liam also dropped by the discord last night to say some hellos (after a “long long day”) and that he “bought a piece of NFT art of myself tonight I’m going to give it as a prize Monday night so someone can own a piece of art that was owned by me” (an even less tangible bragging point than simply owning an NFT wow that’s an achievement) and the most important update- “I want a French Bulldog”! Oh and he said “that’s like one I did myself” in his fanart channel to a pic of a tiny crocheted illustration of Louis and Harry holding up a rainbow flag. Didya Liam?? (...Liam is crocheting??) Anyway I recognize who it’s supposed to be because it’s based on a familiar piece of fanart, but Liam definitely might NOT realize it’s meant to be someone specific, and tbh I’m more <eyeballs> at him saying that at the rainbow flag crocheted thing than at it being shippy.
Our Song acoustic version is out this Friday!! And Niall talked about NH3 some in an interview today; “I’m in the studio most days, it feels really good. I’m kinda in the latter stages of it and then I’ll go get a band together and go in and record the whole thing. I’ve just kind of been writing for the past 9 or 10 months and really enjoying it” and “It sounds like a complete album. God knows when it’s coming out because I’d like to be able to get around the world to see all the fans as well” and “It’s different. It sounds a lot more grown up. I’m 27 so it’s about time. I really wanted to kinda cement a sound. The singles I’ve released previously have all been kinda different sounds. I would like to have my ballad sound & like a cemented uptempo sound.” He and Anne Marie also talked about one of the other songs they wrote together saying, “It’s kind of like a, how do you describe it- guitar driven meets Tom Petty meets Katy Perry meets…” but say “We haven’t really decided if we are putting it out yet, the conversations are kinda happening... but it’s completely different (from Our Song).”
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atlabeth · 3 years ago
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transferred part 20 - atla smau
part 19 | masterlist | epilogue
summary: trying to run from your past is hard, but falling for your brother’s roommate is even harder. little do you know that he’s falling for you as well.
a/n: me when i have to write more than 5 words in a series thats supposed to be a smau
anywho! basically the last chapter?? which is crazy?? filled with heartfelt emotions and the moment that you've all been waiting for, it's a wild ride. so strap in and enjoy. the epilogue will be posted later today so i can finally wrap this series up!! and dont worry theres a super long sappy authors note on the epilogue. LETS GET INTO IT
wc: 2.3k
warning(s): cursing, mentions of alcohol, hurt/comfort, one suggestive comment, mentions of toxic relationships, reader talking about her self sabotaging behavior and burnout, Bad Coping Methods (dont disappear kids)
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“You haven’t seen her?” Zuko sighed as the same words he had heard on repeat for the past hour played through his ears again. “It’s alright, thank you. Have a good night.”
He shook his head at his friends, their defeated expressions mirroring his own as he leaned against the kitchen island. He ran an exhausted hand through his hair, and he couldn’t help but think of the countless times you had done it for him.
“Your sister doesn’t play when it comes to theatrics,” Aang lamented as he plopped on the couch next to Sokka.
“Tell me about it,” he muttered. “I mean, she doesn’t pull stuff like this. Sometimes she went over the top when she was younger, staying out a little too late or doing something stupid, but she never just… she never just tried to disappear like this. I.. I guess she was too worried about Katara and me to do anything like that, but still.” He knocked back the rest of the seltzer and tossed the can on the table — alcohol was tempting, but none of them wanted to be any less than completely aware tonight.
“We all knew she was hurting,” Sokka continued. “Not even she could be fine after everything that happened with Hahn, especially the day after, but I— I guess I thought that she would open up before just dropping off the radar completely!
“No news from the girls,” Aang announced, prompting a collective sigh from the other two boys. “I gotta give it to her, she’s been very thorough with this.”
“Of course she has. It’s classic Y/N — she can disappear without a trace, sure, but she can’t put enough effort into picking up some supplies for my project on her way home.” It was a lame attempt to lighten the mood, and though he got a weak chuckle out of Aang, it was radio silence on Zuko’s part.
“Hey, buddy.” It didn’t snap him out of his reverie, and Sokka seriously contemplated throwing his empty soda can at him. “You okay?”
“She didn’t even say anything to me,” he finally murmured, eyes trained on his phone screen. “She said she would tell me if she was having a hard time, but she didn’t say anything to me. Just suffered in silence until it got so bad she just up and left. She just… left. Without a single word to anyone. To me.”
Aang’s eyes softened and he let out a loose exhale. “Zuko, she didn’t mean to hurt you — I know that much. She’s just been under a lot of stress lately, and… I guess it didn’t manifest in the best way.”
“Stress...” he muttered, trying to piece it together. There was something nagging at the back of his skull, something on the tip of his tongue, but he just couldn’t get it. “And you guys are sure she hasn’t put anything anywhere? No texts that you missed, nothing?”
“Believe me,” Sokka said. “I’ve refreshed her pages a thousand times by now. It’s radio silence on her side. God, I wish I was more invasive and put like, a tracking device on her car or something! For all we know, she could be back to Kyoshi.”
Kyoshi. Stress. This whole thing, your disappearing act.
And suddenly, it clicked.
Zuko stood up abruptly, nearly knocking over the stool in the process and warranting puzzled looks from both of his friends as he grabbed his keys off the table and practically ran to the door.
“Zuko, where are you going?” Aang questioned.
He tugged the door open and shot a glance back at them, tension having noticeably dissolved from his shoulders.
“I know where she is.”
-
Zuko tapped idly against the steering wheel, once again glancing down at his phone screen but to no avail. His relationship with you had become infinitely more complicated since the kiss through fault of both of them — he supposed that was what happened when two people who didn’t know how to talk about their emotions caught feelings for each other. Zuko was very skilled at sticking his foot in his mouth whenever he tried to talk about anything like this, and
But you had accepted his offer to talk on the way home, so that meant something.
He had originally suggested just talking on the way home like he had proposed earlier, but you had a different idea. ‘Trust me,’ you had told him. ‘It has a good track record with making people feel better.’
Your proposition was a wildflower field on the outskirts of the city, just out of the way that someone would go en route to the university. Far enough from the city to emanate an aura of peace, but close enough to be a feasible trip.
“I found this place when I was missing home,” you smiled as he parked the car. “I love it here, don’t get me wrong, but sometimes I just feel homesick for Kyoshi. You passed a field like this on the way into town, and when I stumbled here, it just kinda felt like fate. So now whenever I’m stressed, or overwhelmed, or just need a break, I come out here. And I think this is the perfect place to talk about… well, whatever’s going on with us.”
“Sounds good.” He returned the sentiment then cleared his throat. “As long as we don’t go in there. I can admire it from afar, but just looking at that field is making my skin itch.”
You laughed and nodded amiably. “Deal.”
-
One hand was splayed against your chest, the other trailing lazy circles with the pads of your fingers against the metal as you gazed up at the sky. You had the best and only seat of the view, the flora drifting softly in the night breeze as the stars twinkled from above.
You didn’t know what you were thinking, being here. The past couple of weeks had just been… crushing you. It was like your heart was stuck in a vice and no matter what you did, it just got tighter and tighter.
You had been treating everyone you knew horribly, but you couldn’t stop. It felt like a game — how terribly could you act towards them until they snapped too? Until your friends, your siblings, Zuko, recognized that they had made a mistake by trying to help you?
And you didn’t know what it was about today, but… something inside of you just broke after that morning with your roommates. So you did what you were best at, and you ran. Skipped class, skipped work, just drove around aimlessly until even that was starting to feel like too much of a trap.
And then you ended up here.
It would’ve been laughable if you weren’t on the verge of breaking down.
You had been here, just laying on the hood of your car parked a few feet away from the field on an off road path, for the better part of an hour. If you were going to drown underneath the weight of your thoughts, it was better to do it alone.
But as you heard the crunching of gravel underneath car tires, your eyes instinctively shot towards the noise — so much for being alone — and you sat up. Your brows furrowed in recognition, you knew that car, and it felt like your heart was going to beat out of your chest when Zuko stepped out.
“You remembered,” you breathed after a moment of silence. “You’re here.”
“Always.” He said it so obviously, so easily — why wouldn’t he remember? Why wouldn’t he be here?
You scooted over to make space on the hood and patted the space next to you softly, pulling your knees up to your chest in a moment of shame as he walked around to the front and pushed himself up next to you. What were you going to say to him? What could you say?
“I’m sorry,” you said out of the blue, your words pouring out of you like an emotional waterfall. “I’m sorry for just— for just leaving, I know it was stupid and I know they’re all probably worried out of their minds, but I couldn’t do it, Zuko. I-it was like I was trapped, and I know it was irrational, but I had to get out of there—”
“You didn’t have to,” he said quietly, effectively stopping your rant. “If you really had to get out, you could’ve at least said something to one of us. I don’t know what things were like back at Kyoshi, but here— here, you can’t throw yourself back onto the knife every time something goes wrong, because— you just can’t do that anymore.”
“I’m not mad, believe me, I’m relieved that you’re okay. I just..” he sighed and glanced up at the night sky, the light of the moon illuminating his features as he faced you once more. “I know you’ve felt alone before, but you’re not. You have Katara, and Sokka, Suki, Toph— you have me, Y/N! And I’m not going anywhere, trust me, but— but you can’t keep doing this to yourself, because they care about you, and I care about you.”
You swallowed the lump in your throat and chose to concentrate on the hood of the car, tapping your fingers against the metal as a way to use up your nervous energy. “You’re… you’re right,” you said after a long moment of silence, the beginnings of a mirthless smile on your lips.
“After that night at the party, I just— I couldn’t stop thinking about what happened. There was a part of me that just wanted to lock myself in my room and never come out, but I— I told myself I was better than that, and I refused to let myself fall back onto any of it. So I worked. I took extra shifts, I helped out my professors, I did anything and everything I could to try and keep my mind off of Hahn. But I wasn’t helping anything, I was just… I was destroying myself. It was just like you said. I was a candle burning at both ends but still convinced that I was doing the right thing, and eventually.. I just couldn’t take it anymore. So I ran.”
“And— there’s always been this… this voice in my head that pops up after things in my life are going good, and it tells me that something is going to go wrong. A-and it tells me that if I’m the one that ruins it, then I don’t have to ask myself what I did wrong, if I could’ve stopped it from happening— if it’s inevitable, then I should be the one to ruin it. It’s how most of my relationships ended, and— well, the only thing it’s succeeded in is making me miserable.”
You don’t even notice your hands are shaking until you feel Zuko placing his own over yours — a simple gesture asking an unsaid question, one you answer by intertwining his fingers with your own.
“That same voice popped up again once I started getting close to you,” you admitted quietly. “And this whole time, I’ve been so terrified of falling that I never considered you would catch me. But I’m tired, Zuko. I’m tired of constantly looking over the edge.”
As you turned your head to meet his eyes again, your breath caught in your throat at his close proximity. You were sure that no matter how much time you spent with him, your heart would never stop beating out of your chest for Zuko.
“I will always be there to catch you,” he affirmed softly. “And I’m not going anywhere.”
And just like before, he brought his hand to the side of your face and tenderly brushed a loose strand of hair behind your ear. His hand, slightly calloused but emanating comfort all the same, lingered on your cheek for a moment before he posed the question.
“Can I kiss you?”
You nodded, and his lips captured your own immediately. You reciprocated with an almost desperate fervor and— and it just felt so right. You had grown so accustomed to the constant warmth he carried with him that it had become a part of you, he had become a part of you, and now a life without Zuko was just unimaginable.
He was right — he already was there to catch you, each and every time. Giving you endless rides when your car broke down, sitting through the world’s most boring anthro projects, letting you bare your soul to him, telling you it was all going to be okay when nothing felt okay, and managing to find you when you had gone out of your way to not be found. And all of it— it all made you realize.
You didn’t want to keep running. And you didn’t have to. Not anymore.
Zuko pulled away and pressed his forehead to yours, breathing slightly labored as the two of you sat in comfortable silence. That is, until you broke it.
“So,” you started, a nervous chuckle following. “Are we… are we a thing now?”
You could tell that caught him by surprise by the laugh that escaped him, a sound of unfiltered joy. “I’d say that we are.”
You could feel the heat rushing to your cheeks once more as he slid off of the hood of the car and held out his hand, an offering you took happily. “We should get home,” he said, somewhat reluctantly. “It’s past midnight, and—” Zuko glanced at his phone and grimaced. “They’re all still worried out of their minds.”
“Right,” you muttered. “I’m gonna get the lecture of my life from Sokka and Katara.”
“Probably,” he chuckled. “But they’re just doing their job as concerned siblings.” He pressed a chaste kiss to your forehead and glanced back at his own car. “I’ll see you back at the apartment?”
You nodded, an uncontrollable smile pulling at your lips. “Thank you, Zuko. For this, and— for everything.”
He returned the sentiment, golden eyes filled with adoration.
“Always.”
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if your name is crossed out it means i can’t tag you!
perm taglist: @dv0412 @siriuslyslyslytherin
transferred: @ourbestfriend-mishacollins @lil-lex1 @xxshad0wxb1rdxx @zuko-is-the-sun @akiris @irohs-teapot @thatarthistorynerd @charlenasaxen @minninugget @marvel-ousnesss @count-thotticus @what-ye-egg @furblrwurblr @thesstuff @mariachiii @ietss @dizzy-miss-lizzieeeeee @xbarrjallenx @tommy-braccoli @dreamsluvrr @floofybread @thelovelylolly @lin-biefong-is-my-life @tiffanyy-21 @sistheselenophile @theincredibledeadlyviper @bakugouswh0r3 @loganrwebb @mikaslilworld @matsunshine @iris-suoh @aizameow @h3llbun @kozuelle
atla: @marianne1806
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angeli-marco-writes · 3 years ago
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Sam Holland - Don't Tell
A/N & WC - This is not meant to glorify or condone adultery in any way. I do not know Sam, nor do I claim to, this is a work of fiction. This was written before Sam posted about a new girlfriend: no disrespect is meant towards her. I do not believe Sam would do this: it is fictitious. 3.5k.
Warnings - Adultery, explicit smut, unprotected sex, swearing, reader is the other woman, swearing, brief allusions to SA. 18+.
Summary - When Sam booty calls you, you can't deny him, but will sexual satisfaction be enough? Or will you always want from him what you know you can't have?
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THIS WASN’T HOW YOU’D PLANNED to spend your Saturday afternoon, but Sam called, and who were you to deny him?
‘Come over at 3.’ He texted you. ‘She’s leaving then.’
No kisses, no emojis, no frills, no sign off, nothing. You’re just a nameless number in his phone. You knew what it meant. You’ve done it plenty of times before, so you know the drill, it’s just not exactly pleasant.
With ample time, you left your house, your new place only a couple of streets over from the Holland household, and you walked as inconspicuously as possible. Your coat wrapped tightly around you, you refused to make eye contact with anyone on the whole walk there.
You know the drill so well by now that you know not to stick to the front of the house, but instead to head around the back—straight into his bedroom window—via the bins. Theoretically, with no one home and Sam in the living room, you could walk in the front door, but his room is safest since she has always refused to enter—’just in case.’
Your heart thuds against your chest while you hold your breath, praying not to be heard downstairs the second your feet land on his floor. You press yourself flat against the wall behind Sam’s door, lips pursed and eyes squeezed shut, every muscle in your body clenched to the maximum. You’ve trained yourself to stay so quiet that the only sounds are your pounding, racing heart and the blood rushing in your ears.
Thankfully, before cramp can override you, you hear the words that give you the all clear.
“Bye, love!” he calls down the driveway, followed by a half hearted air kiss, a deafening crunching on the gravel driveway, and the front door at last clicking shut.
Your body finally relaxes, limbs falling loosely around you while you release one of the longest held breaths you’ve ever had.
You creak open Sam’s bedroom door, ready for him to meet you, and shrug your coat off, throwing it on the floor alongside your converse when you hear him coming upstairs. He gets like this, heavy steps and heaved breaths like they’re a strain on his body, and it usually means he’s extra horny.
“What took so long, lover boy?” you tease, standing scantily clad in his door frame, leaning against the painted wood.
His eyes darken with lust as he approaches you, his shadow from the landing already overpowering.
This isn’t like any sex or ‘relationship’ you’ve ever been in before. It’s risky, and that risk makes it so much hotter. Always leaving the door open just a crack so that the two of you could be found only by those closest to Sam, the chance of being caught together in the street on the off chance you go for drinks; after all, your reputation precedes you. But it’s the adulterous element of your relationship that makes it so fun. The fact that it’s usually after his girlfriend leaves that you’re called over to relieve his not-so-little ‘problem’, the little marks you trail across the hidden parts of his body, occasionally being risky enough to plant one on the juncture of his neck and shoulder just to test the waters.
After being together for over two years, she still refuses to do anything with him. Of course you respect such a thing: if she wants to wait till marriage and is able to resist Sam for that long, props to her. It’s just not always ideal for all party members. Sure, they’ve kissed, a little groping, but by this point, with how little Sam's lass has done with him, he’s immensely riled up.
He really likes his girlfriend, of course he does, and he’s spoken to her about this time and time again, asking why they couldn’t just do something more than a PG-12 touching session. She simply shook her head and smiled every time, “I’m saving myself for marriage, Sammy.” This infuriated him hugely. He’s been with a girl or two (or ten) before her, so is very expectant, but being twenty-two has its burdens. He isn’t anywhere near ready for marriage, but is increasingly sexually frustrated. So after an insane year of getting by with absolutely no action apart from the rare lap dance and make out, he knew he had to do something besides use his own hand to relieve the tension that was making him a complete prick.
He respects his girlfriend enough not to pressure her. Sam isn’t a bad person and so he isn’t going to coerce his girlfriend into sex she doesn’t want, seeing it as utterly immoral, so he did the only thing he could think of, and turned to the girl next door, quite literally. Not that it’s any more moral, but here you are.
As soon as he reaches you, the smirk etched upon his face is perfect, just what you expect, and his hands grip your waist tightly.
“You think you’re so cheeky,” he smirks, and his lips crash onto yours the next moment, his hands spanning your sides. His affection halts as he smacks the side of your ass. “I’ll show you cheeky.”
You don’t let him get another word in before you’re kissing him again, furiously this time, hooking one leg around his waist as the other flies to his neck, your clasp anything but gentle.
You’ve known of the Holland family for a while, living a street away, going to school with the boys and your mother having ‘neighbourhood meetings’ with the family. You, however, had had nothing to do with them, never getting involved in their ordeals, not really.
Keeping a resolutely ‘good girl’ demeanour all through school was difficult, especially when you wanted to rebel so earnestly. The first step was house parties, beginning when you were in year ten, everyone getting shit-faced and ending up giving sloppy hand-jobs in someone’s downstairs loo. That much you weren’t a fan of, so you waited until the end of school, A-Levels secured to be who you wanted to be. Trench coats, docs and chucks at every turn, short shorts and fishnets. Lots of hair dye came next, followed by a ‘scandalous’ collection of piercings, and a significant body count for someone your age, or so conservative old women perceived. Fuck them, your body your choice.
Times changed in a year and a half, though not that much. Mid way through your rebellion, you got a good job, your own place, and became a call girl, essentially. Sam’s call girl only, considering your regrettable soft spot for him.
You couldn’t care less though, even though it’s adulterous, Sam is incredible in bed. He frequently tells you the same.
“I think you’re rubbing off on me,” he murmurs, “even when she was kissing me I could only think of you.” His lips are inches from yours with your breath mingling in the confined space of his doorway as you pant.
He hasn’t touched you yet, or even moved you to the bed. You feel yourself blush a little, scared fractionally by what he’s saying but mostly flattered. At least that’s what you’re telling yourself. It makes you feel like your old self is creeping in again, the girl next door that no one fell for.
“I like it when you get all shy on me, really naïve, shows me you’re a human and not just a sex goddess. My sex goddess.”
You pull his lips to yours with a burning passion, desperate to feel him up against you. Your palms settle this time on Sam's cheeks, angling his face to get the most out of the kiss, and your hold remains resolute so that he can’t pull away easily. This isn’t your dominance though, simply a ploy to hide your flushed cheeks from his prying eyes, the blush that’s been caused by his kind words. You want to keep him here long enough that you can claim the blush is from the breathlessness and the actions of his tongue slipping inside your mouth with an urgency you haven’t felt with him for a while. Is this the day that changes everything?
He backs you to the bed, walking unsteadily, and pushes you down onto the springy mattress. It pitches beneath you as he joins you, sitting by your side, his hand gravitating towards your thigh.
“Hey, what is it?” you ask, a slight hesitant stammer to your words.
“Nothing,” he sulks. “Just dunno how long I can keep doing this.”
His baleful eyes hover over your decolletage, and before you can protest and try to get him to open up about the whole situation, discussing the fact that maybe you should just quit while you’re ahead and come clean (because to be fair, it’s beginning to weight on your conscience too, even though you’ve never met said girlfriend), he kisses you, pinching your nipple through your bra until it forms a pebbled bud.
“Gonna take it all out on you,” he hisses, moving his kisses to your jaw. “All this pent up need from missing your body. God, feel so good beneath me.”
He swings a leg over to straddle your legs, and begins a ferocious attack on your neck with his teeth. You’ll have fun at work tomorrow, trying to hide them from your co-workers, one of them (on a temp basis, at least) being Sam’s twin. Harry cottoned on pretty easy, and won’t say a word, because he doesn’t want to deal with Sam’s temper when he’s been denied sex for too long. He likes Sam’s girlfriend, sure, but she doesn’t compromise on anything and looks down her nose at the lot of them, so he considers it fair play. And besides, with his track record, he really doesn’t have a leg to stand on.
Unwittingly, your hips buck up to meet his, feeling his throbbing need pressing against your pelvis, only for him to draw his body away from you, a bruising kiss being pressed to your lips the next moment. All in a flurry, your top is pulled down, your chest revealed to him.
“Bloody love your tits,” he purrs, a feral grin contorting his freckled face.
He rolls your pert bud between the rough pads of his fingers, palming at the other breast so as not to neglect it, only swapping when you’re beginning to writhe under him. His grin only increases.
“Sam… please.”
He knows what you want when you whine that way, so he sits up on his shins, and lets you tear his shirt open. Button by button, you watch as every inch of his pale chest is bared to you, his happy trail coaxing you lower.
“Get on with it, then,” he warns, clamping a hand around your hair in order to control your movements. He does this a lot, it’s his main power move. “They’re too damn tight now you’re around.”
You can definitely see that, the denim of his jeans pulled taut around his torso, the waistband of his boxers peeking above. He begins to pluck at your nipples again while you fumble with his buckle and zip, eventually tugging both items of clothing down at once. He stands, his lanky frame just a blur of white and freckles as he removes every last item, prowling back to you on the bed.
You, however, have other ideas, tugging him down with a grip on his shoulders until he’s helpless beneath you. In the time he was distracted with shucking his jeans off at last, you peeled your own shirt off and put your bra right. Sam’s a boob man, always has been, and takes great pleasure in fastening and unfastening your bras as much as he can, nestling into your chest for the time you spend together.
Since your last rodeo, you’ve gained some weight, and filled out a tad more, something Sam seems to notice right about now, especially as your chest hovers just inches from his face.
“Well? Are you gonna stare at them all day or take it off?”
This man… this man has the fucking audacity to lick his lips as one hand works on the hooks at the back of your bra, the other skimming the edges of the cups before it falls into his hands and he flings it across the room, knocking something off his dresser.
As soon as it's out of his way, he seems to forget everything apart from you, his eyes mesmerised by your chest, his mouth gaping a little, his eyes lingering on your hardened nipples for perhaps just a moment too long. You sigh to yourself, letting your knees dig into his navy comforter before your fingers wrap around his hand and place it onto your right breast. You know that, if you let him stare long enough, you’ll get nothing done. You need this release as much as he does. He takes the message, though, and begins kneading the flesh with a need you haven’t seen from him before. You even catch a wolfish grin when your face contorts into a silent ‘o’, overcome with pleasure. He tweaks your one nipple, and leans up to capture the other in his kiss-swollen lips, lavishing kisses around the sensitive area. You can’t help your nails leaving faint scratch marks in their wake over his freckled shoulders, tracing the silhouettes beneath his skin of muscle and bone, finding constellations within the freckles until he’s quaking beneath your delicate touch…
“Why’re you being such a tease?” he whines.
He has a point, you’re grinding down on his clothed cock in tandem with his playing with your boobs, your core hovering over his hard member, but it’s only fair with the stimulation he’s offering you. Just to shut him up, in one swift move you pull his boxers down and reach down to grasp him, stroking a couple of times before inching down, swallowing his aching length into your welcoming, warm walls.
Your moans create a heavenly sympathy, even as you stop for a moment to adjust to his size a little more, placing your hands on his pecs before grinding down on him. His hips begin to move, thrusting upwards and into you, finding a satisfying pace in tandem for you both as you ride him like there’s no tomorrow.
“Baby…” he moans, reaching out with his lips puckered to wrap them around your exposed nipple, suckling viciously, hard enough to hurt just a little.
“Stand up,” you command authoritatively, with a softness to your tone despite.
He grows harder inside of you, barely suppressing a groan, but his plan fails from shock when you bend over, clenching the foot of his bed so tightly your knuckles begin to turn white.
Casting a sensual glance over your shoulder, you bat your lashes and coax him the only way you know how, a wiggle of your bum added to help convince him; “Fuck me, Sammy…”
Your gasp is shrill and loud when he enters your craving core from behind, your knees nearly buckling when a stream of expletives falls from his lips once he grabs your hips, settling there. You’re sure to have hand-shaped imprints there tomorrow, but you don’t care, and apparently neither does Sam as he continues to thrust into you at an inhuman pace.
Breathy moans escape your lips as your nails find purchase in the sheets, now crumpled in your clenched fists. The only thing that fills your ears other than skin slapping against skin is the myriad of colourful words spilling from Sam in a groan, right down your ear.
“y/n… please…” he hums nonsensically, his lips finding their way to your shoulder blade and neck, kissing you, suckling.
He’s such a hypocrite: one rule for him, one rule for you, just because he’s got a girlfriend and is too pussy to break up with her even though his needs aren’t being met. For a brief moment, your body being used for his pleasure—and bringing you simultaneous heavenly satisfaction—you’re able to forget the consequences of your fornications.
They slip your mind once again the second one of his rough hands slowly makes its way down your front, finding your clit as he begins to rub harsh circles on it.
“Fuck…” you cry out, only for the heel of that hand to press into your pelvis, the other snaking around to your neck, applying the faintest pressure. Your walls tighten around him at the double stimulation.
His hips begin to move faster, blissful moans filling the room in symphony as you both near your highs, his tip grazing your special spot on every single thrust.
“C’mon,” he purrs in your ear, “can feel how close you are…” the pressure on your engorged pearl becomes a constant, and your body begins to spasm with unbridled pleasure. “Come.”
You do, and fireworks spark behind your eyes, setting off a train reaction in your brain, your walls clenching and your body collapsing, chest first, onto the edge of the bed. You must’ve cried out at some point, but your scream became but a gasp with his hand snug around your throat.
His thrusts slow, and he aids you onto the bed by your waist, but you roll away from him, aware that he hasn’t climaxed yet. He follows you down as your fingers link around his neck, but he’s not satisfied with that—as the smirk playing on his lips, causing dimples in his freckles, tells you—so he hovers above you on his knees. The hairs on his shins grate against the duvet cover so he shifts, but your hands move from his neck to his cheeks, pulling him closer to tangle your tongues together. His erection teases your wet folds while you’re lost in the movements of your mouths, and before you know it, he’s entering you again, and your hands are getting lost in his dark, silky locks, his one hand roughly kneading your breast. His thrusts recommence at a slower pace than before, his heels digging into the mattress as his groans overpower yours in the otherwise silent room.
“Shit… oh my God—” he hisses.
He begins to move faster, so you tug at his hair, revelling in the praises he offers, eliciting various heavy moans from his preoccupied mouth in between kisses. His warm breath and the resverberation of the moan vibrate across your lips, causing your hips to rock further into his, your legs wrapping around his toned torso to give him better access to your eager core. His movements become deeper as your breathing becomes even more escalated with high pitched moans tearing from your throat each time he hits your g-spot so perfectly. The knock-on effect sends him into an even more euphoric state, and before you know it, he’s groaning your name down your ear, and painting your walls white.
“Yes, Sammy…”
Your nails leave scratch marks all over his back from the sheer height of pleasure you’re experiencing, and that seems to be what sent him over the edge, his cum seeping into you as you milk his cock. He throbs inside you, his pelvis hitting you perfectly as he thrusts lazily while emptying himself. With one final press of his long, skilled thumb and digits over your sensitive nipple and a harsh bite to your pulse point just below your ear, the bundle of lust in your stomach becomes undone as you finish once again.
Before you’re fully recovered, he’s pulling out and leaving you empty as you lie together for a moment on opposite sides of the bed, no contact other than your pinky fingers linked and overlapping in between you. Except… despite the pleasure, you’re not satisfied. Not at all. And you know, in your heart, that this can’t happen again.
“Don’t tell anyone, please.”
“As fucking if,” you mumble.
“You ok?” he asks after a moment.
“Yes, just fine,” you snap, and roll off the bed, beginning to ferret around for your clothes.
“y/n, no…” Sam moves to grapple for you, “why are you leaving?”
“Because I’m done being treated like shit by you. Used as your fuck-toy when you’re too much of a pussy to deal with your girlfriend… I’m done, Sam.”
He’s up and off the bed, shucking his jeans on with great force that causes him to trip back onto the bed as you adjust your top and zip your skirt back up.
“y/n!”
“What!” you bellow right back at him.
He shuffles his feet on the carpet, and moves to speak, but his jaw just hangs open like a fish, nothing coming out.
“Yeah, I’m done here, Sam. Don’t booty-call me again.”
A weary voice from behind you calls out, “Sam?”
Shit.
This is bad. This is very bad. But what can you do? You’re the other woman, he’s the one choosing to commit adultery: why is that your problem? He can deal with his (clearly very angry) girlfriend, so livid she’s shaking, once you’re gone.
“Yeah. Your ‘don’t tell’ plan worked real good, Sammy. Karma’s a bitch,” you spit, spinning on my heels and waltzing out the door.
You mean it: you’re done. At least until he breaks up with her and undoubtedly calls back. You want him, there's no question about that, but you want him all to yourself: and that's a secret you won't tell.
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rothjuje · 3 years ago
Text
Thank y’all so much for the help and advice on my last post, it is really appreciated!
We’ve come to the conclusion that we will have to get rid of more furniture than we had anticipated, which is a hard pill for Justin to swallow because we did that 3 years ago with our last move so 75% of our furniture is newish. The only furniture from the last house we still have is the corduroy sectional, the green playroom furniture, a giant bean bag, and 3 mattresses. When we move, we will have zero of the same furniture we had four years previously. Which is my personal minimalist nightmare but I’ll have to get over it.
Re flights and animals. First, this new covid variant is freaking me out and I do not think we will fly *unless* the twins are vaccinated. So it might be the 3 kids, my mom, an anxious dog and an antisocial cat in the minivan. Justin could fly and we could ship his car. I don’t know. If we do fly, I worry about the anxious dog, because he has anxiety pooping and gives himself colitis when crated during uncomfortable situations and I read you can not drug them if they’re boarded under the plane. Don’t know how he can survive 26 hours in the car, he water bowls and vomits the 5 minutes to the dog park. I have concerns. If we fly, my mom will be there to help with the kids/cat so I definitely wouldn’t be alone dealing with that, thank goodness (small animals go under the seat in front of you and can have meds, big animals are boarded under the plane and cannot from my understanding).
I’ve been in such a weird headspace lately. Time feels like it is disintegrating, I can barely keep up. At night, by the time we get the kids fed, animals fed, lunch/snack/backpack packed, laundry ran, dishes done, floor mopped...it’s 10:30. We are exhausted.
Part of it is I have been making bread every night because WHY I don’t know, I just need to. I need the escape and the carbs. Part of it is three kids is no joke. I used to run errands during the day but with covid and the van malfunctioning Justin is running errands at night and there are just so many chores. And part of it is toddlers are hard and two of them is double trouble. I think with Thanksgiving and black Friday and cyber Monday and Hanukkah things feel extra crazy lately, but dinner time every night is just madness.
Questions I am asking myself:
At one point during our foster journey we had 4 (young) kids and I was pregnant. I don’t remember it being this hard? Is it rosy retrospection? The fact that I was in my early 30s vs mid 30s so I still had some youthful energy left? Is it the pandemic and feeling isolated/without a village?
I feel like we’re in a time crunch to decide if we want another child. I would love 5 or 6 kids...but I’m surviving and not thriving so I feel like it is definitely not the right time. But also I’m not getting any younger and we’re about to move 26 hours by car away from our frozen babies.
Oh. The stress of and planning of the move. Is that why I’m so tapped out?
On a related/unrelated tangent and circling back to the weird headspace...I miss myself. There just aren’t enough hours in the day. I miss baking and I miss reading books and I miss studying foreign languages. I’ve actually stopped talking on the phone to most of my irl friends partly because I’m just over hearing about constant drama but mostly because I want that time for me. And for my kids. I feel so out of balance right now and I just miss how easy things felt a couple months ago.
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