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#the fixed camera in it is my enemy
pregnancykink · 1 year
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real talk i would stream dmc 3, 1, 4, and 5 (sorry 2, i just don't want to play it lol shout out to my girl lucia tho) for people on here i want more supernatural people to Know Devil May Cry PLEASE Y'ALL WOULD LOVE ITTTTTT it is truly the full house of gothic horror christian imagery incest video game OF ALL TIME
5 (or 3 and 5) with a lore dump by me if nothing else, those two are really it
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FINISHED PLAYING RESIDENT EVIL 💪💪💪
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skrunksthatwunk · 5 months
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kind of surprised and enthralled by dmc2's inspiring commitment to making sure none of the staggering amounts of flying enemies you face are ever at any time visible on screen
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error404vnotfound · 3 months
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endless walking, I mean, pointless waiting—sorry i.
chants of sennaar the game
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straydogged · 8 months
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things that make me a lil emotional!!!! this is the first notebook I have ever fully used, and it's completely filled with dnd notes. it feels very right.
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coconutcows · 2 months
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On the Video Game front, Alisa: Developers Cut is a good and fun game and I hope Casper Croes makes another one.
However it has forced me to face one of my greatest enemies in games: the fixed perspective camera
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rosasappho · 7 months
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kirby game is good i unfortunately am quite shit at platformers
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thyme-in-a-bubble · 2 months
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tell me again that you hate me
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a/n: i kinda just poured all of the filth ever into this one fic... you're welcome.
summary: “you know, I could help you. Pop that little cherry for you,” he shrugged as if he didn’t seem out of his mind for what he was brashly uttering, “you desperately need it, that fucking stick up your ass makes you such a bitch to be around. But no one is gonna wanna bang you, I mean, maybe you could be kinda hot if you weren’t such a fucking loser, if you didn’t dress like a fucking pogue, but I don’t think anyone would commit social suicide like that. So, I’ll take care of it. Fix that problem for the good of everyone else.” 
warnings: bully!stepbro!rafe cameron x virgin!reader, smut, dark content, dubcon/noncon, enemies to lovers, rafe is in college while reader is still in high school (everyone is over 18), blackmail, alcohol consumption, allusion to drug use, drunk driving, hidden cameras, panty stealing, references to somno, possessiveness, kissing, loss of virginity, size kink, belly bulge, pain kink, dirty talk, impact play, oral, pussyjob, just the tip, squirting, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, cumplay, no aftercare and not really any foreplay, public sex, rafe is mean and pervy and dark but it's all fun because it's just a silly fantasy
word count: 5153
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Your life had turned into a living nightmare.
You thought that when your high school bully graduated, you’d finally get rid of him. But little did you know what the future held in store, just who your own mother would decide to marry and what particular family you’d be forced to fuse with. 
Rafe Cameron had been the bane of your existence for years. Sure, when you’d first met him, you admittedly had a bit of a crush on him, but that was until he noticed you and truly showed you the notorious bully that he was. And now that he, the very person who had turned your teenage years into literal hell, had become your stepbrother, you couldn’t wait to get out of there, move halfway across the globe just to never see his face again. 
It also didn’t help matters that you got situated in the room right next to his, even had to share a Jack and Jill bathroom with him. 
Now what you didn’t know was how Rafe’s feelings truly were towards you. How he only started bullying you because you made him feel some type of way that no other chick did, but you came from the wrong side of the island, so getting those feelings out in the form of cruelty only seemed natural to a guy such as him. You had no idea that it was actually you whom he thought about every time he jerked off on the other side of that incredibly thin wall you shared, or even that his wicked fascination with you only seemed to grow now that you were a part of the family. 
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The impatient knocks were no use, so swiftly you swung the door to Rafe’s bedroom open. He was nowhere in sight, but before you could turn around to search for him in another place, the light that his computer monitor blared out into the space caught your eye.
Your vision however grew wide as soon as you saw the taboo tab that was open. It was porn, but not just any porn. The open page was littered with rows and rows of graphic videos that all fell under the stepsister search he had typed in. 
Frozen in your stance, you wanted to sprint out of there, though at the same time, some part of you wanted to inch closer and snoop further. 
“What the fuck are you doing in my room?” a voice blared from behind you and caused you to jump.
Skittering away from the desk, you spotted the familiar buzzcut standing in the doorway. 
“I–, uh,” you swallowed and recalled the reason for your hunt, “my mom’s forcing me to go to that party at Topper’s tonight.”
“Okay, and?” he scoffed. 
“And so, because I don’t really do that sort of thing–”
“Because you’re a fucking loser who never gets invited.”
“Because I have better things to spend my Friday nights doing, your father wanted you to keep an eye on me and to make sure I got home safe.”
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The only way you were gonna get through the night was if you got as wasted as possible.
Which is exactly what you ended up doing. 
When the clock chimed two, the raging headache you were developing from the blaring music convinced you to finally call it a night. You’d given it enough of a chance, enough experience to go home and state that partying simply wasn’t for you. 
But if you didn’t find the literal demon of a stepbrother and let him complete his end of the bargain, then maybe your mom wouldn’t believe you alone and force you to go to another. 
However, locating him turned out to be a much more difficult task than you’d thought. As you stumbled around the massive house, supporting your wobbly weight on the walls as you peeked into each of the rooms where some partygoers had migrated to, you soon dug your phone out of your jeans and dialled up his number. 
It was on the third attempted call that you finally stumbled into him. Sitting with a random blonde on his lap and the remnants of a mysterious white powder dusting the coffee table separating you from him. 
“There you are,” you grumbled, “I’ve been trying to call you!”
His expression turned sour as he noticed your presence, swiftly flipping his phone around as it layed on the table, though the caller ID that lit up the screen wasn’t of your name as your phone still buzzed in your palm to get through to him. Instead, it spelt out fleshlight in big bold letters. 
“So, you have,” he exhaled, “what do you want?” 
“I wanna go home,” you shoved your phone back in your pocket. 
“So, go home. What do you want my fucking permission? Are you that obsessed with me?”
“You have to take me home,” you reminded him, though when he began to laugh in your face, you shot back, “or you can just deal with your dad yourself when you get home. Your choice if you wanna keep being in his good graces or not.” 
That managed to shut him up. Though as he reluctantly pushed the blonde aside and got up from the couch, he muttered just loud enough for you to hear, “fucking prude,” like a curse on the wind just before he marched passed you and grabbed a hold of your arm to drag you with him. 
“Ow, Rafe, you’re hurting me!” you tried to tear yourself free of his grip. 
“Oh, shut up you baby, no I’m not. You wanna feel what does hurt?” his long fingers then dug further into your flesh and caused it to actually ache, “this.”
As he pushed open the front door, you whined, “ow, please stop,” but when he finally did, he only traded the grasp out with a light shove to your shoulder, directing you further towards his parked car. 
When you were planted in the passenger seat with your gaze firmly fixed out the window as the dark streets rolled by, you crossed your arms and mumbled, “I hate you…” gaining enough courage from the dizzying alcohol ravaging your system to utter it out loud. 
“What was that?” Rafe cast a glance in your direction.
Twisting your neck to glare back at him, you hesitantly repeated, “I hate you,” though the faint flicker of bravery you’d acquired was snuffed out as swiftly as it ignited when you saw the smirk that bloomed on your stepbrother’s features. 
“Aw, don’t tell me that, princess,” he chuckled, “you’ll just make me hard.” 
Eyes widening, they briefly fluttered down to the crotch of his trousers before you blinked away, a reaction that was evidently satisfying enough for Rafe to cause him to keep going. 
“But you probably wouldn’t know what to do with it anyway.”
“I know what to do,” you said defensively, though regretted your humouring him as soon as the words slipped out past your lips. 
“Oh yeah? Just how would you know that? Everyone knows you’re a fucking virgin,” something he was to blame for, though that wasn’t a fact you ever had to know. You didn’t have to be aware of just how many times he had stopped guys from asking you out, just because he wanted you all to himself, “but are you secretly a perv, sis? Is that how you think you know what to do?”
“Don’t call me that,” you cringed lightly. 
“What? A perv? Or sis? Don’t you wanna be reminded that you’re my stepsister?”
“Not particularly...”
As the car curved into the driveway to Tanny Hill, an offer suddenly rolled off Rafe’s tongue. 
“You know, I could help you. Pop that little cherry for you,” he shrugged as if he didn’t seem out of his mind for what he was brashly uttering, “you desperately need it, that fucking stick up your ass makes you such a bitch to be around. But no one is gonna wanna bang you, I mean, maybe you could be kinda hot if you weren’t such a fucking loser, if you didn’t dress like a fucking pogue, but I don’t think anyone would commit social suicide like that. So, I’ll take care of it. Fix that problem for the good of everyone else.” 
Your mouth hung agape as the vehicle rolled to a stop, the sudden shift made you fear that your latest drink would come up again. 
Utterly stunned, you couldn’t form a single word as you stared back at him. 
“I mean, it’s what you want, isn’t it?” he went on, turning in his seat to gaze over at you, already undressing you with his eyes, “haven’t you always had the hots for me?”
“I–…” it felt as if the car was swaying around even though it stood completely still, “…I drank way too much tonight, and I think you might have as well.”
“You’re drunk?” darkness glinted in his eyes, “well, I honestly don’t know if I should be impressed or run inside and wake everyone up so you can get grounded for fucking ever,” he laughed. 
“No!” you gasped, “You can’t tell them, please! I–…” you felt tears begin to sting the corners of your eyes and blur up your already hazy vision, “fuck!” 
Leaning even further back in his seat, he cocked his head, “I mean, I could also keep it a secret…” the tip of his tongue mischievously slipped out to poke his lip, “for the right price, that is.”
“Seriously?” you glared back at him, “are you serious right now?”
Capturing your hand, he swiftly brought it to the palpable tent in his pants, “do I not seem serious?” his eyes narrowed ever so slightly to a squint. 
Your lips parted in shock, stare flickering away from his eyes to spot how he ever so slightly pressed your palm down against him. 
He was so hard that you could nearly feel his pulse through the fabric of his trousers. 
“I mean, really I’d be helping you out,” your gaze stayed glued to how his broad hand engulfed your own a moment longer before you glanced up to find his unwavering stare once more, “so you should really thank me for both keeping your secret and doing you such a massive favour…”
As a shaky breath escaped your lungs, you whispered once more, “I hate you…”
But the proclamation only conjured a smile to appear on his lips, “tell me again,” and he leaned in a bit closer.
“I hate y–,” but you didn’t get the last bit out as Rafe then crashed his lips against yours.
It took a second for you to react with anything other than a surprised whimper, but when you did, it was slow and cautious compared to his boldness. 
A string of saliva strung you together as he eventually parted from you. Offering himself a small caress, he pressed your palm down against him one last time before he let you go. His breathing was heavy as he momentarily let his thumb trace your bottom lip, briefly slipping it crudely in your mouth, before uttering, “get inside.”  
Why, after all of this time, after all of the pain and torture he alone made you go through, why did he still have to give you butterflies the way that he did?
It was your room that he led you to, a hand ever rooted on you as you made the journey. At first, you thought it was because he saw the way you occasionally stumbled over your own feet, but perhaps it was just in case you wanted to make a run for it, just a precaution, a safety net already halfway over you. 
“Take your clothes off,” he commanded in a cold tone as he shut the door behind you. 
“W-what?” you turned to look back at him.
Sitting down on the edge of your bed, he repeated, “take your clothes off,” though they came out sounding slightly impatient. 
He palmed himself through his pants as you slowly began to strip. Though as you’d shyly peeled your t-shirt off and dropped it to the floor, his voice halted you just as you began to undo your jeans. 
“Stop,” his voice cut the thick air like a knife, “turn around when you pull those down,” you twisted away from him as your thumbs sank into either side of the waistband, “and do it slowly,” he made you put on a show, ogling as you gradually revealed the curve of your ass, “that’s it…” he nearly moaned as your pants crumbles to the floor, “bra and panties too, princess. Unless of course, you’re backing out of our deal already.”
Clenching your jaw, you squeezed your eyes shut and shed the rest, ignoring his soft wolf whistles and crude comments as you exposed yourself. 
Slowly turning back around to face him, your hands were clasped before you out of sheer timidness and not knowing what to do with them. 
“You gonna stand over there all night?” he raised his chin slightly.
When your feet stood rooted right before his seated position on the bed, your hands began to fiddle as he pulled his shirt over his head and caused your pulse to somehow beat even harder than it already did. 
One of his palms then scooped up your stomach and briefly grabbed one of your tits before scooping you closer, “come here,” and utilised his leverage to toss you down on the bed beside him, “let me get a good look at you.” 
Grabbing for the bedsheets as the mattress momentarily bounced beneath your spine, you blinked up at Rafe as he sat next to you, twisting his form and craning down to near your core. 
You tried to clamber your legs shut, embarrassed for what his cruel reaction might be, but he was not only faster, but stronger than you, and grabbed a hold of your thighs. As he split you apart, his lips curled up into a grin. 
“Look at you… fuck,” he let out a short chuckle, “this is gonna be fun.” 
A gasp curled out of your frame as he then grazed his thumb over your folds, smearing some of the mortifying wetness that seeped out and made you feel even more intoxicated than you already were. He lightly spread you apart and studied intently your dripping pussy, how it looked, how it glistened and how your little hole twitched when he lightly circled your clit. 
“Oh, you like this, don’t you?” he rubbed your puffy pearl with a mean lightness that caused your hips to buck slightly, “you like it when your big stepbrother touches you like this?” but when you didn’t reply, he reached down and grabbed your jaw, angling it for you to meet his eye, “answer me.”
“I–… y-yes,” you quietly admitted, feeling as if you were in some strange dream. 
“Of course you do, you dirty little girl,” he bent down again to gaze at your pussy a little too close for your taste, “I knew you were a slut since the moment I met you.”
Letting go of your face, he then snaked his free hand down to give himself an ounce of relief. 
“You know, part of me doesn’t even wanna prep you with my fingers first,” he smirked and let his fingertips sweep down to tickle your entrance, “I like the idea of not stretching you out first and letting my cock do all the work, let it feel just how tiny and pure you are for me.” 
“But isn’t that gonna hurt?” your breath caught in your throat. Sure, you’d played with yourself nearly till your hands fell off, but that idea still managed to scare you. 
“God, I hope so,” he groaned and briefly leaned down to press a hot kiss to your clit, sucking it into his mouth and sloppily making out with it. 
When he then stood up and pulled his pants down, your jaw nearly hit the floor as well when you saw how thick his dick was. Fat and veiny, curving proudly up towards his abs. 
Seizing your hips, Rafe yanked you closer to where he stood, nearly letting your ass dangle over the edge of the mattress.
“Wait,” you suddenly reached out to touch his forearm as he gave himself a few lavish strokes, staring down at your cunt, comparing the obscene size of him to your puff, “what about a condom?” you squeaked as he flicked his leaking tip down to tap your core. 
Sucking in a fierce breath through his nose, he glared down at you and shot back, “what about you shut the fuck up and just be grateful,” before he sent his open palm down to smack your pussy. 
“Ah! I’m sorry, I just–, fuck!” you shuttered beneath him as he soothed the slap with the nudge of his length, rubbing it against you and teasing your cunt before he started sweeping it through your folds, nearly fucking your soppy slit, the tip of him kissing your little pearl on each silky advance.  
A dollop of spit dropped from his lips and joined the mess he already tickled at between your parted legs. 
“It’s too big…” you murmured as you stared down at how his fat girth parted your pretty petals, though the observation only conjured a smile on Rafe’s lips, “maybe you could just put the tip in?” you tried through your foggy mind, “that would still count.”
A rumbling chuckle bubbled out of him as he stared down at the two of you together, “just the tip…” his movements then grew more erratic as he slid through your folds, “is that all you think your little virgin cunt can handle?” shy gasps escaped you every time he deliberately let his cock catch at your opening, “just the tip?” 
As he slowly pressed just the flush head of his length in to breach your entrance, your brows crinkled up at the mind-numbing stretch. 
“Like that, baby?” he only moved ever so slightly, “is that all you think you can handle?” and you nodded foggily in return. But as you let your eyes flutter shut and breathed through the staggeringly wonderful sensation, Rafe’s voice once again washed over you, “nah,” like a splash of cold water while you were licking up warm sun rays, “that’s not good enough. This is,” and he then slammed the entirety of his length into you.
Your eyes instantly shot back open and your legs curled up even further on either side of you at the shock. 
“What?” he cooed at you mockingly as he slowly dragged his dick back out for just the memory to remain, “does it hurt?”
You were a blubbering and cursing mess, trembling beneath him as your pussy tried to accommodate him.
“Come on, princess,” he bent down over you and let his nose ghost against yours, “tell me that it hurts.”
“It h-hurts,” you whimpered as his hot breath fanned across your blazing cheeks. 
It did sting, a lot, but though you hated to admit it, a part of you loved it, a part of you sank even further into the pit of pleasure he so slowly dunked you into. 
“Tell me that it’s too big for you,” he nuzzled his nose against yours as he plugged you back up. 
Your body shook beneath his every time he moved as much as a millimetre inside you, “i-it’s too big.” 
Letting out a low moan of satisfaction, he then leaned down to press his lips to yours, stealing your breath away even further. 
You tried, but couldn’t really focus on kissing him back, not that he seemed to mind much as he moaned into your mouth, soon letting his sloppy kisses dance over your cheek and down your neck, letting hickeys bloom in his wake and mark up your skin like a brand.
As he sucked down on the spot where your pulse went wild beneath the skin, his hips drove against yours harder, causing them to collide in a sticky smack, as well as letting the tip of him bully the deepest part of you. He didn’t just do it once, but kept it up as he enjoyed the little squeaks you let out every time he bumped against your cervix. 
Kissing his way back up to your lips, he only offered them the briefest of pecks before raising himself off of you, just ever so slightly, and one by one, grabbed your already wide-spread legs and rested each one of them onto his broad shoulders, efficiently folding you in half. 
“H-holy shit,” you panted as the mattress rippled beneath you at every one of his rough thrusts, “Rafe–”
“Yeah?” he smirked down at your melted form, the vein in his forehead popping from the strain, “are you gonna cum? Are you gonna cum on your big bro’s dick?” one of his hands swept up to squeeze your tit, then gave it a swift tap before growling, “come on, princess. I can feel you squeezing me so fucking tight. Do it, I fucking dare you. Be a good girl and cum on my cock.”
You almost screamed as you tumbled over the edge, your head curling to the side to hide yourself in the crumbled duvet beneath you as your pussy gushed all over his fat girth. 
“Oh, fuck,” Rafe croaked as he straightened back up to get a good view. Pulling out of you, he briefly flicked his dick through your folds to urge more of your nectar to leak out, before he slid it back inside and asked in amazement, “you ever squirted before?” 
Trembling from the overstimulation, your eyes rolled in your skull as you shakily mumbled, “maybe twice, I think.”
“Such a good fucking slut,” he growled proudly, “squirting all over me like a proper whore. Just look at you,” his grip dented your thighs as he pressed them further down against the bed, “you’re already a pretty little cockdrunk mess.”
“I–, I–,” you blubbered as you felt drool begin to trickle down your cheek. 
“Oh, fuck,” he then groaned, glancing down at where he split you apart, “hold your legs back,” he requested, though had to help your sluggish hands find their way, “look at this, baby,” he scooped a palm behind your head and ushered you to spot what he had noticed. Splaying a wide hand over the lower part of your stomach, he traced the faint bulge that rhythmically appeared, “sure as fuck not a virgin anymore, are you? Fucking ruining that perfect little pussy of yours. Now that’s how you pop a fucking cherry. Aren’t you happy I was in such a charitable mood tonight?” he then pressed down on the imprint rudely, the overwhelming sensation causing your pussy to drizzle a little more around him, “aren’t you, sis?”
“Yes,” you mewled, feeling as if you were floating on a cloud and not getting your guts rearranged. 
“You’d let me do anything I’d fucking want, wouldn’t you?” he smirked down at your dazed form. 
“Y-yes,” the word flowed out of you, though you couldn’t quite comprehend all of his dirty talk any longer. 
“Hold on,” he briefly slowed down and stretched over to reach a small apprentice obscured and hidden in all of the cluttered decor on your nearby dresser. Turning it in his hand, he pointed the discrete camera down to film you, “say it again,” he picked his pace back up, “tell me that you’ll let me do anything I want to you.”
“Anything,” the words bubbled out through your moans, “anything you want.” 
“Say that you’re my little slut.”
“I’m yours–, I-I’m your s-slut.”
Tilting the hidden camera down to get a few close-ups, his voice then seeped into you once more, “now tell me again that you hate me.” 
One of your hands fluttered down and began to rub your puffy clit.
“I hate you.”
“Again,” he reached down to give your left nipple a harsh pinch.
“I hate you.”
“Keep going, princess.” 
And the more times the phrase flowed out past your lips, the more it began to lose its meaning and morph into just another sound, one that was almost akin to the complete opposite kind of proclamation. 
Just like you barely noticed when Rafe dug out the hidden camera, so too did you miss it when he put it back down, obscured somewhere among your things, possibly not even the only one. 
When you came once again, Rafe didn’t so much as pause when you creamed around his cock and drenched the sheets beneath you that much further.
“There you fucking go,” he sent a palm down to smack the sensitive skin on your inner thigh, “god, you’re so hot. I can’t believe you actually let me do this,” he grinned as your fingers stretched out to graze his wild hips, trying and failing to slow him down, “you’re such a little freak,” he glanced down at the ring of your essence that marked the base of his throbbing cock, “so fucking nasty for your stepbrother. I bet you’d even let me keep using you after you fall asleep. I mean, who’s to say I haven’t already,” he chuckled, “you’re so fucking cute when you sleep. No annoying remarks, no dumb comments… I think I might prefer you that way…” his slamming grew sloppy as he soon moaned, “fuck, I’m gonna fucking cum.”
“Pull out,” you begged through your hazy pants. 
And just when you thought he wouldn’t respect your wishes, he yanked out and furiously stroked himself before your winking and wrecked hole as it slowly retraced from the severe stretch. Moaning loudly, he swiftly painted your pussy with his load, getting it all over your puffy petals till he was panting above you. One hand rested on your thigh as he brushed the sensitive head of his cock over the cream, messily tapping the hefty weight of him against your aching clit and making you jump a few times as he smeared it in. 
Throwing himself down on the bed beside you, he let out a long sigh and said, “you’re welcome.”
You felt like you couldn’t move, like you might never be able to move again. Your breath still came in ragged as the only thing you could focus on was the sore throbbing centred at your core, that blossomed out through the rest of your nerves. 
“Well,” Rafe huffed as he soon lifted himself up to a sitting position, “night,” and without another word, slipped out through your shared bathroom into his own bedroom. 
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“I can’t believe they made you take me,” you grumbled as you watched Rafe shadow you in the clothing store, “I could have just gone to the mall on my own.”
“You don’t have a car though–, also, why are you the one complaining? I’m the one being forced to go fucking shopping with you of all people.”
Somehow, for some mysterious reason, since you’d moved into Tanny Hill, your collection of underwear had shrivelled down till you barely had enough to get you through the week. Guess that was the price you had to pay for letting someone else do your laundry, though you’d always assumed it would more just be a single sock that commonly vanished in the wash…
When you dipped into the fitting room to try a few of the gathered options on, you only managed to test out two of them before the curtain slid back open and you swiftly scrambled to cover yourself.
“Rafe!” you let out a hushed screech, “what do you think you’re–”
“Try these on,” he handed you a wide stack of hangers. It wasn’t just underwear dangling from them, but also some clothing, though all of it way too revealing than you were used to. 
Glancing down at them, you refused to grasp the items and simply stated in a clear tone, “no.” 
Letting out a low sigh, he then turned to close the curtain back up before he twisted back to face you, “do you need me to have a little talk with your mom and my dad?” he took a few steps towards you, slowly pushing you into the corner by the tall mirror.
Glaring back at him through your pout, you huffed, “no…” 
You stayed in the corner as he then hung the clothing up on the hooks before taking a seat on the small stool where your purse was resting before he swept it to the floor. 
“Are you just gonna sit there and watch?”
“Yeah,” he scoffed, “it’s boring as shit out there. At least in here, I might get a moderate amount of entertainment.”
Rolling your eyes, you reluctantly began to try the attire on. 
“I hate thongs,” you muttered as you tugged a pair into place over your hip, trying not to catch your stepbrother’s stare as his gaze wandered from your reflection to the perfect view he had of your backside. 
“I recall you hate a lot of things you still don’t hesitate to jump on.”
“Whatever,” you sighed, “you have your fun, enjoy this little fashion show, but I’m sure as hell not getting any of these.”
“Well, good,” he uttered demeaningly, “because I’m buying them for you.”
Catching his eye in the mirror, you told him, “I’m still not wearing them. You can’t make me.” 
“Yeah,” he puffed out a smirk, “we’ll see about that,” and then tore his gaze away from you to gesture to one of the hangers, “try that dress on, but keep the pink thong on underneath, only the thong though.” 
You had to shut your eyes in annoyance a moment before you fulfilled his request, soon standing before him in a scantily cut, pastel mini dress, crafted in a fabric so thin that you could see the faint shadow of your nipples poking through them, especially after they’d turned all pebbly after Rafe had torn that privacy curtain to the side. 
“You happy now?” you turned to face him and propped your hands on either side of your hips. 
“Hm,” he cockily pursed his lips as his gaze studied you, “I was right…”
Your brows stayed furrowed till you watched his palm slide down to squeeze himself through his shorts. 
“What are you doing?” you hissed, eyes growing wide. 
“You do look hot in normal clothes.”
“I don’t think any of this is normal…”
“I think it’s time you learned how to suck a cock,” he suddenly announced, eyes still glued to the dress’ low neckline as he unzipped his slacks. 
“Rafe…” you breathed. 
His eyes flickered up to find yours, “get on your knees,” he tilted his head, “come on, princess. You’ll love it, trust me.” 
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© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 
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kissedsuns · 4 months
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LOVESICK, LANDO NORRIS
cw: SMUT, slapping, enemies to lovers, degradation
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max, lando, and you sit on the worn leather couch in the press conference room. the dim lights cast a soft glow over you all, and the room is filled with the buzz of journalists eager for answers. they fire questions at you rapidly, eager to dissect every detail of the race.
earlier, you and lando had a bad crash at turn 11, and with the tension between you two, this incident has just pushed you both to the brink.
as you sit there, cameras trained on you, you notice lando throwing dirty looks your way, and you catch yourself doing the same. anger churns inside you, and you bite the inside of your cheek, while also trying to calm down by twirling a strand of your hair around your finger.
then, a journalist asks directly, "so, lando, who do you really think was at fault with, uh, the crash at turn 11?" the room goes silent, everyone waiting for his answer. your heart races as you look at lando, who’s already got this mischievous glint in his eye.
"well, i think it's pretty clear that the blame lies with the other driver," lando begins, his gaze fixed intently on you. "i had a clean pass down the straight, and then someone swerved right into my line, cutting me off completely. i honestly have no idea what they were thinking." he shrugs, his expression hard as he shoots another pointed look, making his frustration evident without even needing to say a name.
"maybe they should have their driving license taken away," he adds with a snarky edge to his voice, and when his head snaps in your direction, you fucking lose it.
once those words left his lips, you were more than ready to throw a punch right then and there. obviously, you didn't, but the look in your eyes was enough to show it.
your anger flared even more when his lips curled into a smirk, clearly enjoying this frustrating banter.
"can i also add to this?" you urgently try to wave the journalist over, and only did you just notice that max seems to be finding the whole situation far too amusing for some press conference as he sits back with a sly grin.
"i think that if it wasn’t for a certain someones terrible driving, we could have made it through with no damage to the car." you scoff, glancing in his direction with a smirk.
"i mean, let's be honest, i’m quite happy with p2, and i guess i’ll have to be the bigger person in this situation and not make any stupid comments about a license being revoked." you then drop the mic from your mouth, shooting him another dirty glare as the journalist, along with all the others in the room, eagerly takes notes.
"oh, well, i’m just expressing my opinion, and if the other driver can't handle that, maybe they shouldn't be racing in the first place," lando says with a shrug and a self-righteous look on his face, knowing his comments are getting under your skin.
"and as far as being happy with p2, i think anyone with eyes can see that you should be happy with p2 because you clearly aren't good enough for more than that."
"oh, you little—" you couldn't take it anymore. you wanted nothing more than to punch him square in the face. but before you could say anything else, max interrupts. "alright, alright, i think that’s enough questions. thank you very much, everyone."
max quickly yanks the microphone from both your hands, ushering you off the couch and out of the conference room. you were about to protest, but it was too late. somehow, you were already outside.
max had gone off somewhere, leaving you and lando stranded in the empty hallway.
on your left was the mclaren team hub, but obviously, you didn’t want to be anywhere near anything mclaren-related.
"you’re hilarious, you know that?" you glare at him, your eyes almost twitching with rage.
"and you're a spoiled little brat, you know that?" lando shoots back without missing a beat.
he leans back against the wall, a cocky smirk on his lips, casually surveying you from head to toe. he thought you were so hot when you were mad, but for now, his focus was more on riling you up even more, something you were growing incredibly sick of.
"god, if it wasn’t for max back there," you say, taking one step closer towards him, your index finger pressing against the centre of his chest. "my fist would’ve been in between your teeth."
the tension in the room is palpable, and the look on your face is full of pure anger. yet he stands there with that stupid look on his face, as if to tell you that he didn’t care in the slightest.
he chuckles as you poke his chest with your finger, glancing down at your hand and then back up at you.
he then takes hold of your hand, preventing you from pulling away. "oh, come on, is that the best you've got?" he scoffs, leaning in closer with a smirk, and you can tell he’s having far too much fun with this whole situation.
"go on, hit me," he taunts "hit me, you little brat."
suddenly, the person in front of you didn't seem like lando norris anymore. this wasn't the frustrating, rude, and arrogant lando norris who would shove past you in the paddock, purposefully bumping your shoulder and laughing as he walked off.
this wasn't the lando norris who would send you menacing stares whenever you passed his garage, or who would roll his eyes whenever you opened your mouth to speak during a post-race interview.
whoever this was, standing in front of you with that irritating grin, certainly didn't seem like the same lando norris you were used to.
your palm strikes his cheek without even thinking twice. the silent corridor echoes with the sound of the slap, and you can see his head instantly jerk to the side, revealing the fresh, red imprint of your hand on his left cheek.
realising what you've just done, you slowly retract your hand from his face, your fingers trembling slightly. a gasp escapes your lips, and you’re quick to cover your mouth with your palm, eyes wide with shock.
"oh, shit," you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper.
"oh, did that feel good?" he asked, grabbing your chin and tilting your head up to meet his gaze. "did that make you feel like you won? because let's be real, you never win anything."
"you’re one to talk," you sneer, pulling his hand away from your chin. "you’ve been in formula one for years and still can't reach the top step," you say with disdain, your frown morphing into a shit-eating grin. "if anything, i’ve always been ahead of you. in everything."
he chuckles at your taunt and shakes his head slowly. "oh, really? you think you're ahead of me?"
then, lando’s hand slips forward, grabbing at your hip instead of your chin. he pulls you close to him, your faces now mere inches apart.
"in what? the number of mistakes you've made this season?" he retorts, a smirk playing on his lips. "because you're definitely ahead of me in that category."
you feel the urge to bite down on the inside of your mouth again, the sharp pain serving as a reminder to control your words and actions, in case you catch yourself doing or saying something you’ll regret.
"you make me sick," you spit, your voice laced with disgust.
"aw, poor thing," he mocks, while his thumb continues its gentle caress on your hip.
he observes how you almost melt at his touch, your body responding to him in ways you can't control.
with a deliberate move, his free hand glides to the nape of your neck, fingers tracing along the sensitive skin before gently pulling your face closer to his.
there’s a moment of silence, just the two of you staring at each other so intensely it's like you're communicating without words.
suddenly, almost on cue, you both lean in, and your lips meet in this forceful, aggressive kiss. like all the frustration you've been harbouring has been poured into that one moment.
in an attempt to explore every inch of your body, lando draws you in closer, pressing himself against you and nibbling harshly on your lower lip, before slipping his tongue into your mouth.
you press his body firmly against the wall with a sense of urgency. a few soft moans escape your lips, and your fingers manage to find their way into lando’s hair, gripping onto his curls and tugging gently.
your ears pick up on a faint whine that escapes his lips in response, only fueling your desire as you pull a little harder.
he follows by biting down on your bottom lip, before grabbing your ass and raising you up, forcing you to wrap your legs around his waist as he spins around and pushes you against the wall.
growing more exhausted by the second, you force your swollen lips apart while your chest heaves with every breath, almost gasping for air.
with a little tremble from anticipation, you pry your hands out of lando’s curls, allowing your fingertips to trail over his shoulders.
you shiver as he presses light kisses along your jawline, enjoying the warmth of your skin before biting down gently on your neck. as he draws you in closer, his hand still firmly holding your ass, he tilts your head up to reveal more of your neck with his other hand, eager to feel every inch of your skin.
in mere seconds, your lips meet again, the kiss more sloppy and less controlled this time. like animals, you cling to each other tighter as you maneuver out of the corridor and into his team hub.
it’s a place where you aren’t particularly welcome, but right now, you couldn’t give a flying fuck.
lando stumbles his way into the lounge of the team hub, his lips refusing to leave yours.
everything else seems to fade into the background as he struggles to focus, his mind has gone foggy at the sensation of your body pressed against his.
finally reaching his private room, he gently lays you down on your back, climbing on top of you with the support of his trusty sofa the mclaren team installed for him.
no one would have anticipated lando would be using it for this particular purpose, which is making out with his rival, but hey, atleast it’s getting its money’s worth.
after a few moans and whines later, both of you eventually grew tired, your energy spent. lando and you reluctantly pulled your shaking bodies apart, slick with sweat and adorned with scratches you lacked the strength to point out.
you both lay there, catching your breath, the silence only being broken by the sound of your heavy breathing and the faint rustle of the couch beside you.
lando sits up on the couch, leaning back against it, his head spinning from what had just happened. raking a hand through his thick hair, he panted slightly, trying to calm his racing heart.
"that was.." lando let out a breath, his words trailing off as he tried to find the right word. he shook his head, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "wow."
you muster a laugh at his attempt to express himself. “didn’t think you were my type,” you tease, a playful glint in your eyes.
propping yourself up beside him, you run your finger along the outline of his abs, admiring his frustratingly flawless body. the sight of him leaves you practically drooling.
lando gives a casual shrug, his hand reaching out to pull you closer by the waist. "i’m everyone's type," he teases, a confident smirk gracing his lips. "you should've given in sooner,"
you roll your eyes and stand up from the couch. “i liked you better when you were needy,” you say with a scoff, scrambling to search for your clothes that have been tossed aside and scattered around the room.
"i was not needy," he insists, rising from the sofa as he goes to playfully nip at the skin on your neck.
you toss his mclaren shirt, and it lands on his bare chest with a soft thud. “sure you weren’t, needy norris,” you quip, a playful smirk dancing on your lips.
"oh, you're just so funny, aren’t you?" he teases back, rolling his eyes in a playful manner as he throws the shirt over his head.
once you’re both completely dressed, lando carefully opens the door and steps out of the room, waiting for you to follow suit.
"maybe next time we can do it in my driver’s room? you know, just for a change."
"sure, baby."
eventually, you two part ways, and lando decides to head down and hang out at one of the garages with a few other drivers.
as lando makes his way over to oscar, george and carlos, he becomes gradually aware of something.
it could have been the strange gestures they were doing, like thrusting the air and making absurdly high-pitched moans, or the fact that they all burst out laughing and cheering as soon as they saw lando approaching.
"holy shit, you weren't kidding," george exclaims, his eyes widening in disbelief. his smile widens when he points to the unmistakable handprint on lando’s cheek, as well as the numerous hickeys adorning his neck and collarbone.
yeah, lando had a feeling that he should’ve buttoned up his shirt before leaving the room. as for the handprint, well, you probably had it a lot worse given how many times lando had spanked and slapped you when he claimed you were ‘misbehaving’.
lando tugs at the top of his shirt, attempting to hide the hickeys. "it's not- i didn't-" he splutters, making an effort to protest but he knows deep down that there's no use.
he lets out a huff before storming off. "whatever, idiots."
it just so happened that on his way to change out of his race gear, oscar had walked right by lando’s driver's room. he did his bit before hurrying down to meet with the other drivers, doing his best to ignore the loud and disturbing noises coming from behind that door.
let’s just say that when max and daniel pulled you aside and almost begged you to explain to them why you had a bright red handprint on your face, you weren't exactly having the time of your life either.
looks like you’ll definitely have to be using your driver’s room next time.
© kissedsuns
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endieinwonderland · 4 months
Text
Let The Light In: Part 1
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Part 2 Part 3
Words: 1,448
Pairing: Paige Bueckers/Media Manager! Reader
Warnings: Angst, Friends to enemies (but the reader doesn’t know why they’re enemies), reader is actually so in the wrong, angst no comfort.
A/N: This is officially the second thing I’ve written, and it marks the beginning of the first series I’ve started. That being said, my ambition doesn’t necessarily match my skill set, so critiques are more than welcome. Thank you for bearing with me! 🙏 😭 ❤️
"Alright, ladies, let's get this show on the road! We need everyone to go to their assigned positions, please! If you've forgotten where you go, check the initials on the tape on the floor to find your spot. We’ll be around in five to remove it and to check the lighting," Charlie's voice booms through a megaphone, slicing through the bustling energy of the gym. 
At her direction, people begin shuffling around at once. The UConn women’s basketball team quickly finds their spots, joking amongst themselves while you and the photography team works around them, trying to make everything perfect.
“Hey C, we need a light in the left corner!" you call out, your voice faltering as you notice a stubborn piece of tape left on the floor.
Rolling your eyes, you kneel to peel it off with a quick tug, adding it to the growing collection in your clenched fist, freezing only momentarily when you see the bold ‘P.B.’ written across it.
‘Shit.’ 
You swivel on your heel, turning away from the woman in front of you before standing and scurrying back to the safety of your monitor.
“All good?” Charlie nudges your shoulder.
“Yeah, yeah, all good. We should probably get started.”
She nods, picking up the megaphone again. “Okay, thank you everyone for your patience. We’re all ready! Let’s start with some smiles, okay?” You attach your camera to the tripod before looking back at the monitor. “1..2..3, and get ready for flashes please!” You shout, clicking the shutter button a few times, turning to look at the pictures as they upload to the large screen in front of you.
A few murmurs of "looks good" echo as others look over your shoulder, but something feels off.
Noticing your hesitation, Charlie walks over and looks at the screen before speaking up. “Hey, number 5, can you twist a bit to your left, please? You’re turning away from the group.” 
Recognizing the issue immediately, she calls out to Paige, who keeps her eyes fixed on Charlie as she moves, avoiding your gaze.
“Better?” Asks Charlie.
“Better.”
You return to the camera, taking a few more shots, occasionally shouting out instructions for different facial expressions until you get a thumbs-up from your boss, signaling it’s time to move on to individual shots.
“Okay, starting with last names in alphabetical order, can we please get Ms. Bueckers out first?” 
Seeing her name was one thing, but hearing it is an entirely different story. You can’t suppress your reaction this time, your breath catching in your throat.
You hear her before you see her, steps echoing through the gym before standing in front of you for the first time in a year, completely emotionless as she stares directly into the camera, startling you with the indirect eye contact as you look through the lens.
“What are we going for?” she asks, turning to Charlie, completely ignoring your presence.
“Let’s start out serious, and we’ll move on from there?” You can barely hear Charlie’s directions over the ringing in your ears. 
‘You’re a professional, be professional.’ 
You steel yourself before turning to Paige. “Give me a game day face,” she doesn’t look at you when you speak, instead choosing to continue to stare down the camera as if it's committed some personal offense against her. She crosses her arms, drawing her lips into a tight line as you click the shutter a few times.
You’re working on autopilot, taking shot after shot when something stops you, something's wrong. You look up to see Paige's gaze set on you now.  The intensity of her stare unnerving, and you almost feel guilty for having captured it.
Your hesitation and the absence of your shutter clicking doesn’t go unnoticed. A hand taps your shoulder, startling you. Your boss, Leo, is behind you, softly shaking his head. 
“Hey, you can stop. We can’t use these.” You turn to Paige, then back to Leo, a shocked “Why not?” leaving your mouth before you can stop it.
He sighs as he wraps an arm around your shoulder. “Come look at them with me, please,” he motions, guiding you back to the monitor. 
You clickon the last picture you took and turn back to Leo. “I mean, the lighting's fine, focus is good, I don’t get what’s the matter with it.”
He says nothing in response, instead just leaning over to zoom in on Paige’s face, or rather her eyes which are swimming in unshed tears.
“We can’t use these,” he repeats lowly before turning away from you. 
“Can we get a few shots with Ms. Brady, please?”
You turn back to where Paige had been standing, but she’s no longer there; you barely catch sight of her exiting the gym, Caroline and Azzi hot on her tail. 
“What’s her deal?” Charlie mutters, standing at your side again. Tearing your attention away from the gym doors. 
“Hell if I know,” you reply with a shrug, feigning nonchalance before walking back to your camera and turning to face Ice.
“We'll start with a few dribbling shots if that's okay with you?”
The media team quickly snaps back into action, and within six hours, almost everything is done, setting what might genuinely be a new media day record.
Exhausted, you slump down onto the bleachers, hoping to close your eyes for a few moments. But Leo’s hand tapping on your shoulder interrupts you for the second time today .
"We need to have a chat," he says, giving you a stern look. Nodding, you rise to follow your boss back to the monitor where a new picture of Paige is displayed.
"Listen, I'm not sure what the deal was with the first set of pictures you shot, or if her reaction had anything to do with you at all,"  You open your mouth to defend yourself when he raises his hand to stop you. "No, I don’t need to know if something happened between you two, I just need to know if you think she’d be okay with you trying again, because please look at these." He points to the monitor; the pictures aren't bad per se but they are—for lack of a better phrase—lifeless.
Her posing feels forced and the angles aren’t her best. You’ve taken enough photos of her to know what works, and the man photographing her now, Will, simply hasn't captured her effectively.
"We need to be professionals and make sure all the players are comfortable at all times, so I want you to really think about it," Leo finishes before stepping away, leaving you alone at the monitor, staring as new pictures of the blonde appear on the screen, each one worse than the last.
"Charlie!" you call out, waiting for her to approach.
"What do you think of these?"
She glances at the photos and shrugs, "I love Will, but you could do better."
"Leo thinks I should try again."
She tries, but fails to hide her surprise, "Are you sure Paige would be okay with that?"
Shrugging, you reply "I don't see why not; we didn't have a falling out, she just stopped talking to me."
After a pause, you add, "But I will speak to Will first to see if we can fix this without me behind the camera."
Charlie nods and goes to fetch Will, who is at your side in moments, eager to leave his camera -or rather, eager to leave Paige.
“You should be taking these," he insists before lowing his voice to a  whisper, "She's tough to work with." 
At this, you have to suppress a laugh; you know Paige’s capabilities well, she knew how to work a camera, it almost is impossible to take a bad picture of her.
"Have you tried letting her move during the shoot? Start with serious expressions; she starts goofing around after 15 minutes, and you'll miss the good shots. Then again, she'll probably be more professional with you than she was with me."
Will rolls his eyes, "I've tried everything." He motions back to his camera, “You should just give it another go."
After a brief motivational speech from Charlie and Will you resign yourself, approaching the camera once more.
“Is it okay if I try?” you find yourself asking softly, speaking to Paige properly for the first time in months.
She stares at you like a deer caught in headlights before quickly composing herself. A weak “yeah” is the only response you get, and it’s enough for you to feel comfortable quickly re-adjusting the camera and taking the first successful picture of Paige today.
She responds to you instantly, a forced grin quickly spreads across her face as you give a thumbs up, signaling for her to change poses. You both quickly fall into your old routine.
15 minutes in, you're constantly adjusting Will’s camera as she moves around, dribbling a ball, crossing her arms, and giving the camera a fierce look, then grinning ear to ear, her movements well-rehearsed from years of experience in front of your lens.
You only stop when an excited “We got it, guys!” is heard over the sounds of your shutter.
Leo, turns the monitor towards you where what might end up being one of the best pictures you’ve ever taken of her is displayed on the bright screen.
Before you can stop yourself, you’ve turned towards Paige, a proud smile stretched across your face. “Good job!” 
A brief nod is all you get in response before she mutters a quick “thanks” in your direction.
The rest of the media team receives much more sincere thank yous, and she exits the gym quickly, leaving you alone to wonder the same question that always plagues you after seeing her: ‘What the hell happened to us?’
517 notes · View notes
thatfeelinwhenyou · 1 year
Text
KINDRED — yang jungwon
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It’s your final year of highschool, and your only goal is to graduate top of your cohort, as usual. Except as student council president, your advisor can’t seem to leave you alone. What happens when you take Decelis Academy’s top student, their star taekwondo athlete and put them in front of a camera?
“Kindred” a student documentary. Pilot episode airing tonight on TVN 7PM KST.
PAIRING: athlete!jungwon x stucopres!fem!reader
FEATURING: enhypen, yunjin from lesserafim, ryujin and chaeryeong from itzy, chanelle from runext, beomgyu and taehyun from txt, wonyoung from ive, gunwook and gyuvin from zb1 etc.
GENRE: high school au, enemies to lovers, nerd x athlete, forced proximity, slice of life, coming of age, he fell first and harder, fluff, ANGST, teen drama, slow burn ish?
WARNINGS: contains profanities, horrible attempt at humour, urban lingo, probably cringy, kys/kms jokes, depression jokes, sexual innuendos (nothing too inappropriate), depiction of violence, family drama, incorrect timestamps/information, no fixed faceclaims, not proofread etc.
STATUS: completed! (01/09/2023 – 18/03/2024)
AUTHOR’S NOTE: please read! story concept is heavily inspired by the kdrama ‘our beloved summer’ other than that the storyline is completely original (or so i assume since i manifested this out from the crevices of my pea brain). chapters with ‘(hw)’ next to them indicates that they are half-written, in case y’all skip over it! as always, the content and depiction of the characters in this smau do not in anyway represent them in real life. lastly, if you do end up enjoying, please do like, comment (love reading your comments btw), and reblog so this can reach!! without further ado, enjoy!
TAGS: #tfwy kindred #tfwy smau
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TEASER
profile. one | two | three
episode 1 - ratatouille and the underdogs
episode 2 - one way ticket to university
episode 3 - do you take constructive criticism?
episode 4 - unsolicited but appreciated
episode 5 - the art of benevolence
episode 6 - taekwondo-anti
episode 7 - beating the mentally ill allegations
episode 8 - can’t help it, i’m a libra
episode 9 - operation we-don’t-really-hate-each-other (hw)
episode 10 - she’s an oscar award winning actress
episode 11 - someone like me (hw)
episode 12 - ‘female-lead-realising-the-bad-boy-isnt-actually-that-bad’ arc
episode 13 - 5 foot 9 garfield meets avatar
episode 14 - yn the heterosexual
episode 15 - the ynwon getting closer montage :p
episode 16 - to the moon and back
episode 17 - eat 2 left toes
episode 18 - you are approved! (hw)
episode 19 - asking for a friend
episode 20 - rediscovering won’s ability to love
episode 21 - beomgyu’s 99999 eq
episode 22 - ynwon get together or else >:(
episode 23 - “hate”
episode 24 - not all problems can be solved with a formula
episode 25 - H.O.M.E.W.R.E.C.K.E.R
episode 26 - collecting facebook milfs like pokémons
episode 27 - you were brighter than the moon (hw)
episode 28 - she's studious not stupid
episode 29 - the garden is full of surprises (hw)
episode 30 - weapon of mass destruction
episode 31 - the name above me (hw)
episode 32 - no offense but she’s a cockblocker
episode 33 - the bane of my existence (hw)
episode 34 - risky risky wiggy wigi this is an emergency
episode 35 - live my life on my terms (hw)
episode 36 - separation anxiety goes crazy
episode 37 - paparizzki
episode 38 - is it too late now to say Sorry?
episode 39 - everything will work out just the way you want it to (hw)
episode 40 (finale) - her entire being is loveable (written)
epilogue - kindred, signing off part 1 | part 2
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bonus chapters!
yunjin x heeseung
i can fight
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Copyright© 2023 thatfeelinwhenyou All Rights Reserved
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4ngels0uls · 4 months
Text
My enemy - Matt sturniolo
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Dont like? Don’t read.
Summary: Matt sturniolo and y/n have hate each other for basically forever. Nick and Chris hate their bickering, they think y/n and Matt should just date. Y/n and Matt think that’s disgusting till….
Paring: fem!reader + dom!Matt
Warnings: use of y/n, SMUT, cursing, fingering, blowjob, handjob, p in v, a little dirty talk, rough sex, pet names kinda (like.. good girl, and I don’t know SO LOOK FOR YOURSELF.)
A/N: I broke my fucken phone like 2 weeks ago and just got it fixed yesterday 🙈
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Y/ns pov
I’m sleeping over at the triplets house today, cause…..why not? I miss Chris and nick. Definitely not Matt. He’s a total asshole to me, but all sweet and charming in their YouTube videos. Pathetic. I open my phone and text nick. “Hey can I come for a little sleep over today?” I text. Almost immediately I get a text back. “Yeah sure. Just don’t be so fucking annoying with Matt.” He texts with an attitude. I think he’s pissed off.. I text back. “okay, I’ll be there in an hour.” I text. All I get is to be left on opened. Alright…
I grab all my shit for a sleepover. I get in my car and drive to their house. I get to their house but I’m not a fuck ass person to just walk in so I knock. Guess who opens the door. Matthew fucking sturniolo. “great.” He says. Asshole. He walks upstairs just leaving the door open for me to come in. I walk inside and take my shoes off and go and put all my shit in nicks room.
I walk into nicks room. Nobody.. what the fuck? I question. I put all my shit down and walk over to the couch where Matt is sitting. “where’s nick and Chris?” I ask. He looks up at me and sighs. “They’re out getting a bunch of shit for the store for a YouTube video.” he answers. “How long have they been gone?” I ask, considering nicks phone is right by Matt. “Like 2 hours, an hour ago?” He tells. huh? I texted nick 30 minutes ago and they have been gone for apparently 2 hours? Weird.
I sit on the couch, about 2 cushions away from him. “what the fuck are you watching?” I ask while confused. “Some random ass documentary, I’m not even watching it. What’s with all the questions?” He asks with an attitude. “I was just asking.” I tell. He gives me and weird look then goes back to his phone. I lay down and curl into a ball on the couch.
He glares at me and looks at me confused. “Why are you laying like that?” He asks me. “I don’t know, I’m comfortable..”I answer. He gives me a shrug and goes back to his phone. I pull my phone out of my pocket and go on it. I go thru my camera roll and find a sex tape of me for a while back, with my 2nd ever boyfriend. I forget my phone is on full volume. I click on the video and it blasts moans, the sound of me and his body’s slapping together.
My eyes go wide and I turn my phone off and Matt looks at me with wide eyes. “what the fuck were you watching…?” He questions. “nothing…” I say out of embarrassment.
End of y/ns pov
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Matt’s pov
I hear y/ns phone blasting a sex tape of… sounds like her…? “what the fuck were you watching…?” I ask her. “Nothing.” She says almost immediately with a hint of embarrassment in her voice. We go quiet for a while, while I have a big ass tint in my pants from my dick… it’s bad from the last couple times this has happened. I let out a slight groan for only me to be able to hear.
God this fucking hurts. But I can do it here or get up cause she’ll think I’m fucking disgusting. Which it is…. She rolls over and looks down and sees my bulge thru my pants…
End of Matt’s pov
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Y/ns pov
I look down at Matt’s pants and see he has the biggest boner ever.. “fuck… I’m sorry y/n. Im really fucking sorr-“ I shut him up by smashing my lips into his. I climb onto his lap, feeling his boner on my legs. He pulls away. “Please y/n..” he groans out. I know exactly what he wants. “Please what?” I tease him. “Use your mouth or anything..” he continues. I get off him and get on my knees in front of him.
I undo his belt and slide his pants down along with his underwear. His dick springs out, slapping his stomach. I grab his dick and kitty lick his tip. He groans to the feeling. I go down and start bobbing my head. He’s a moaning mess at this point. “F-fuck y/n..” he groans out. I let out a little groan to him moaning my name, sending waves of pleasure through his body.
“P-please..” he begs me for more. I look up at him and smirk. He makes a makeshift ponytail with his hands for my hair. Matt pushes my head down a bit, making me gag a little. “Oh fuck y/n..” he groans again. I start pushing my head a bit more down, making me gag more.
“Fuck! I’m going to cum!…” he moans but also yells out. I bob my head on e last time and he shoots his warm load down my throat. “g-good girl…” he whimpers. I smile at the nickname. He grabs me and picks me up and walks to his room to continue. He lays me down on his bed and closes and locks the door even though no one’s home.
He crawls up towards me. He hovers above me. He kisses me all around my neck. I lift my head up for him to be able to kiss my neck more. He kisses all over till he finds my sweet spot. He sucks and licks my pure skin. He leaves a big purple hickey that’s very noticeable. No one will know.. right? He slides his fingers down to my aching core. Sliding my pants down along with my underwear. He starts pulling my shirt up revealing my purple lace bra. He smirks when he sees my bra. “Cute bra…” he smiles. I blush from his compliment. He slides his fingers along my curves.
He gets down to my core, slowly rubbing my clit. I let out a very soft moan. I kiss his soft lips as he fingers my core. He shoves his two fingers, the middle and ring, right into my core, I let out a moan making him groan. I kiss him deeply as he kisses me back.
He pumps his fingers in and out of me making me whimper every time he pumps his fingers. F-fuck Matt…” I moan. I bury my face into his neck. He pumps fingers in and out of me faster making me and whimpering and moaning mess.
“Sh-shittt” I moan. “M’ close!” I yell out. He pumps his fingers about three more times, hitting my g spot each time. “Fuck! Please! Matt!” I scream out. I release all over his two fingers. He pulls out his fingers. He licks off all of my release off his fingers. “mm you taste good.” He tells me while smirking.
He gets on top of me again. He kisses me on my neck. “All fours, ass up.” Matt says with a controlling tone. “Hmugh please…” I moan out. He lines himself up between my wet folds. “P-please don’t tease Matt.” I whimper out. “Be patient.” He tells. I nod my head and he slides him self in. I let out a moan as he burys his length into my core.
“so tight.” He whispers out. He thrusts his hips at a fast pace, his hips smacking into mine making an echo in the room. “Fuck…” he groans. “Mhughm fuck! Matt!” I moan loudly. He groans from me moaning his name. He pounds into me like theirs no tomorrow. I make a little noise every time his skin slaps mine. “are my good girl!?” He yells out at me. “Y-yes!” I yell back. He shoves himself deeper. I moan louder, my eyes going to the back of my head. He smacks my ass, making an echo sound around the room. I bury my face into the pillow. F-fuck..y/n.” he groans softly.
He pounds me till I yell out “fuck I need… fuck! I need to cum!” I yell out. “just wait.” He dominants. “W-what?..” i whimper. “just wait.” He says. He pounds me a couple for times till the point where now I’m feeling overwhelmed and overstimulated. “M-Matt please!” I yell. “be a good girl and cum all on my dick.”
He finally tells me. I feel the knot snap in my stomach. I release all over his dick. I feel his dick twitch inside of me. “F-fuckk!!..y/n!” He moans loudly. Digging his nails into my hips while shooting his hot load into my cunt. Painting my spongey walls white.
He pulls out and claps beside me. “damn.. didn’t think you were that good.” He tells. “Me either..” I agree with him. We hear the front door open and hear yelling. “Matt! Wer- what the..? Y/n!?” Chris yells from the front door. I look at Matt. He looks back at me. He starts getting up but kisses my lips. He finishes putting his clothes on. He winks and leaves and closes the door behind him. I just had sex with my enemy.
————————————————————
IM DYING.
idk I’m bored now🙂
NOW I HAVE TO GO WRITE MORE😔
BYE.
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izfims · 1 year
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sugarcoat — yu jimin
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synopsis: as a way to fix her image, jimin's team decides to host an event where one lucky fan gets to go on a date with the idol to show the world that she's a good person. since y/n's younger sister happens to be one of her biggest fans but unfortunately falls under the age limit, she decides to sign her older sibling up instead. there's no way she actually gets chosen.. right?
genre: smau + written, humor, idol x non idol, fluff, sprinkle of angst, reader wants nothing to do with jimin, jimin just wants to get this over with, forced proximity trope, the TENSION!!!
pairings: idol!yu jimin x fem!reader ft. le sserafim, aespa, & other idols
warnings: they are subject to change throughout the story because this is episodic, mentions of violence, profanity, kys/kms jokes
status: ongoing! updates will be whenever i feel like posting
notes: this is a work of pure fiction and the people involved are in no way connected to how they are in real life. if you want to be added to the taglist pls just ask. also ignore the time stamps n any other errors — enjoy :)
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PROFILES!
get yn a gf | kwangays
CHAPTERS!
001. the incident
002. still my #2
003. date with a psycho
004. speak now
005. see you soon
006. free clout opportunity
007. enemies to lovers arc
008. beef with an idol
009. on thin ice
010. woman of the hour (written)
011. smile at the camera
012. disrespect yn day
013. blame it on the wind
014. i’m sorry (written)
015. don’t ghost
016. smiley face thumbs up
017. congratulations
018. solid pickup line
019. stop cockblocking
020. there it is
more to come…!
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TAG LIST! (CLOSED)
@yoontoonwhs @imahallucination11 @slayc9 @nasyu-kookies @leyleypad @mightymyo @runawaymazola @jimanie @awkwardtoafault @limbforalimb @channiesprincess @neuftaeng @i06kkura @lesleepyyy @sewiouslyz @irishbarcafan @winieter @pandafuriosa60 @jiwoneiric @yumtooki @kimsgayness @justme-idle @tocupid @chaerybae
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© izfims 2023
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radiantvader · 8 months
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Pairing : Anakin Skywalker x Jedi Master!Fem Reader
Warnings : 18+ (MINORS DNI) !! | Slight Enemies to Lovers | Dirty Talk | Unprotected Sex (wrap it before you tap it babes) | Degradation Kink | Slight Choking | Dom!Anakin | Sub!Reader | Let me know if I missed something :)
Word Count : 2.3k
Summary : In which you and Anakin are on a mission to sneak onto General Grievous' ship and capture him. Your constant banter and teasing throughout the mission frustrates Anakin, and in the end, he finds a way to let out all of his pent-up anger and frustration.
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The starfighter hummed with anticipation as you and Anakin soared through the vastness of space, lightspeed blurring the stars into streaks of light, en route to General Grievous' ominous flagship. Inside the cockpit, the hum of the engines was accompanied by the low murmur of Anakin and Obi Wan discussing details about the mission. Anakin shot you a sideways glance, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife.  
“So, Master" he began, the title dripping with irony, eyes fixed on the star maps. "Any brilliant ideas on how we're going to sneak onto Grievous' ship?" you smirked while leaning back, studying the holographic blueprints you had received. "Well, Master Skywalker, it seems we have a spy to thank for these detailed plans. You see that hanger over there?" Anakin scowled at the use of the title 'Master' but kept his mouth shut, trying to avoid conflict. You reactivated the holographic blueprints and showed them to him, a smirk etched onto your face. He nodded, eyes burning with impatience and anger. 
"That hanger is our way in. This is General Grievous we're talking about, so we already know that every square inch of this ship is going to be on lock. 20 droids guarding every access point are signal rotated. So once they're on the move, we only have 35 seconds until the next round of 20 droids replace them, we need to be quick. The eyes and ears are in a security room in the west hall, there are 97 motion-sensitive 8K cameras with an overlapping field of vision so there are no natural blind spots. They are always watching, always listening, blasters ready to fire. Getting through the corridors and reaching the command center is going to be easy. Now, here's where things get a little tricky, the doors to the command center have been improved, they're military-grade biometric portals made of a foot and a half of solid titanium. So we can't blow them up, we'll need to use the heat of our lightsabers to melt a hole big enough for us to go through, which might take time considering the thickness of the doors. So while I do that, I need you to cover me from the droids. Once we get into the command center, General Grievous will already be alerted to our presence and will probably have called for backup. So, the moment we enter the command center, we need to drop a smoke bomb, use the force to sense the droids, take 'em down, and then capture Grievous before the smoke clears." You explained the plan and relished Anakin's perplexed face. 
"What? Not used to having a good plan? It must be an honor to be in the company of a highly intelligent Jedi with a higher rank. Perhaps some of my brilliance will rub off on you." Anakin's perplexed face dropped and his scowl deepened, his annoyance palpable. "Brilliance, huh? We'll see about that." You smirked as Anakin sassily rolled his eyes.
As you approached Grievous' ship, you used the Force to mask your presence from the patrolling droid fighters. Anakin expertly piloted the starfighter, dodging and weaving through the asteroid field that surrounded Grievous' vessel and you couldn't help but admit that despite his impulsiveness, he was a formidable pilot. "Nice flying, Skywalker" you complimented, a hint of genuine admiration in your voice. "Save the praising for after we're inside" Anakin quipped. You rolled your eyes, about to retort, but quickly shut your mouth as you approached the hangar bay. Your starfighter hovered in front of the hanger; you were waiting for the perfect moment to go in. The moment the battle droids were switching posts, you and Anakin slipped into Grievous' hangar undetected. And as the ship's bay doors closed behind your starfighter, you both breathed a momentary sigh of relief. 
Stepping out of the starfighter, you and Anakin moved through the dimly lit corridors of Grievous' ship, lightsabers ignited and senses heightened. The air was heavy with tension as you encountered patrols of battle droids. You deflected oncoming blaster shots, not hesitating to take jabs at Anakin. "Careful Skywalker, wouldn't want you tripping over your own bravado." you quipped, voice laced with sarcasm. He shot you an irritated look, "I've handled tougher situations than this." Anakin muttered, deflecting blaster bolts effortlessly. "Of course you have, Chosen One" you snorted, swiftly dispatching a pair of droids with calculated strikes. His jaw clenched, but you caught a glimpse of a smirk he couldn't suppress. Your banter echoed through the metal corridors as you navigated through the labyrinthine ship. The occasional sparks of your lightsabers illuminated the path, creating an otherworldly dance of light and shadow.
As you both neared the command center, the droid resistance intensified. Waves of battle droids surged forward, blasters firing in unison. You and Anakin moved with synchronized precision, your contrasting styles weaving together seamlessly. But when you both reached the command center doors, you quickly got to work. You thrust your lightsaber into the titanium doors and hummed, pleased when the lightsaber melted through the titanium quicker than expected. You drew a decently sized circle with your lightsaber and with a powerful kick, a large circular piece of the titanium doors fell onto the floor, the command center coming into your view. Grievous, who was alerted to your presence, awaited both you and Anakin with his spinning lightsabers, surprisingly with no reinforcements. 
The battle with Grievous unfolded like a chaotic dance, Anakin's acrobatic moves clashed with Grievous' relentless onslaught. Meanwhile, you circled around Grievous, strategically analyzing his patterns, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. "Now!" Anakin shouted, distracting Grievous for a split second. Seizing the opportunity, you lunged forward, lightsaber slashing through the air and delivering a powerful strike that sent Grievous reeling. With a few swift moves, Anakin cut off Grievous' mechanic arms and legs. 
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Returning to the Jedi Temple, you both faced the Council. Yoda and Obi-Wan listened intently as you recounted the details of the mission. Yoda's wise eyes bore into yours, assessing not just your words but the unspoken dynamics between you and Anakin. "Hmm, impressive, your teamwork is," Yoda noted, a twinkle in his eyes. "Learn from each other, you must." he continued, and Obi Wan, ever the diplomatic voice, added "Your cooperation has proven fruitful. May the Force continue to guide you both." When the debriefing concluded, you and Anakin made your way back to your quarters in contemplative silence. However, the tension lingered. You leaned against a wall in the secluded hallway and crossed your arms, a teasing smirk etched onto your face.
"Hey Skywalker, do you ever wonder what it's like to be a true master?" He clenched his jaw, balling up his fists, knuckles turning white. "I've got enough on my plate without you constantly annoying me, shut the fuck up for once." He jeered at you, but you just stepped closer, voice dropping to a teasing whisper "Perhaps you're just afraid you'll never measure up."  
Anakin snapped. In an instant, he had you pressed against the wall, his eyes ablaze with fury and frustration. "Enough! I don't care about official titles, I will not allow you to talk to me like that. Learn your fucking place." He seethed, his hand wrapping around your throat painfully. Yet in the charged atmosphere of your conflict, a different kind of energy simmered, a potent blend of unresolved tension and the unspoken truth. And in an inexplicable twist of fate, your shared animosity acted as an irresistible force, leading to a momentary pause that culminated in an unexpected collision of your lips—a fierce, passionate kiss born from a volatile mix of anger and desire, leaving you breathless and conflicted. Like opposing magnets pulled by an invisible force, your bodies surged together.  
The kiss deepened and your breathing became ragged. As the hallway filled with your gasps and fervent whispers, you felt your resistance crumbling completely as Anakin's lips claimed yours with a hunger that mirrored your untamed passions. It was as if the world around you had vanished, leaving only the two of you entangled in the most primal of embraces. "You make me feel things I shouldn't..." you whispered, voice rough and hoarse. Anakin only responded by deepening the kiss, his lips and tongue exploring yours with a zealous intensity that left you breathless. Your bodies continued to strain against one another, their tempo growing more desperate with each passing second. Your breathing grew shallow, the only sounds in the empty hallway were the soft moans of pleasure and the frantic rustle of your clothing. Anakin, driven by an insatiable desire, reached out and grabbed your hips, lifting you up and wrapping your legs around his waist. As you continued to kiss passionately, Anakin unbuckled your belt and hurriedly undressed you, the sound of your lightsaber hitting the ground filled the hallway as Anakin tossed your attire aside with a harsh motion, his eyes never leaving yours. He was certain you could feel his heart beating rapidly. 
Your breath hitched in your throat as you felt the cool air against your skin, the sensation heightening your desire for him, nipples hardening. You reached for the fastenings of Anakin's pants, your fingers deftly unbuckling and unzipping him with ease. His erection sprang free, standing rigid and throbbing before you. He groaned into your mouth, his own hands now exploring the areas of your body that his fingers had only briefly touched. He reached between your legs, his fingers brushing against the wetness that had begun to seep through your underwear.  
"Fuck" he whispered, his voice a hoarse growl, as he felt the evidence of your own arousal. You let out a soft moan as Anakin’s lips brushed against your neck, sending shivers of pleasure down your spine. He grasped your underwear, sliding it down your legs, his gaze never leaving yours. As the fabric slipped away, exposing your wetness to the cool air, you felt a shiver of anticipation ripple through your body. Anakin's hands traced the curve of your hips, his fingers brushing against the sensitive skin of your inner thighs as he guided himself towards you. He felt your warmth, your wetness, and the knowledge that you were about to be one with each other sent a surge of desire coursing through him. With a deep, shuddering breath, Anakin positioned himself at the entrance to your core.  
He looked into your eyes, his own mirroring the raw intensity of your passion. You closed your eyes, bracing yourself, but right as he was about to slide in, he stopped, "Beg for it." You looked up at him with wide eyes, "What?" you asked perplexed. "I said beg for it." He smirked, toying with you. "C'mon Anakin, please... I need you..." you muttered, embarrassment seeping through your bones. "Oh come on, you and I both know that you can do better than that." He smiled mockingly, the tip of his cock teasing your entrance. Tears prickled the edges of your eyes as you looked up at him desperately, considering throwing your pride away for a moment. "Anakin please, I'm begging you. I need you so badly... It hurts..." your face flushed in embarrassment and Anakin let out a pleased hum, grinning wickedly. Then, with one swift, powerful thrust, he drove himself into you.  
You gasped, your eyes widening in amazement and pleasure as you felt the fullness of his size fill you, the stretch sending shockwaves of pleasure through your entire body. "'s too big..." you whimpered when Anakin started thrusting, both pain and pleasure coursing through your veins, "Take it like a good girl and stop whining" Anakin grunted, his thrusts growing steadily more frenzied as the passion of the moment consumed you both. Your bodies moved in a symphony of ecstasy, each thrust a testament to your shared hunger and unspoken longing. Anakin thrust into you with vigor, your fingers dug into his back, the press of his hips against your clit causing you to moan softly with each stroke. Your own arousal grew, your inner walls tightening around him with every thrust, your body eager to take him deeper, to draw him in.  
His tip delightfully hit your cervix, causing you to throw your head back as a moan of pure ecstasy was ripped from your throat. Your hands travelled upwards and grabbed Anakin’s hair, tugging harshly, eliciting a groan from him. “Fucking slut.” He growled lowly while his movements sped up. Anakin gripped onto your hips, roughly pulling you closer to him with each thrust. “Look at you, not so talkative now, are you?” Anakin jeered with a coarse voice, but the only response he got back was a soft mewl. “Aw, did I fuck you dumb already?” He mocked you, enjoying the way your eyes rolled back into your head.  
Anakin's pace was relentless, he had a bruising grip on your hips, thrusting fast, deep, and hard into you. You could feel the pressure build in your lower belly and your walls clenched around Anakin. As his own climax approached, Anakin’s thrusts got sloppier, sweat dripping from his hair and forehead. But as he reached down to fiddle with your overly-sensitive clit, you broke. You clenched around him, letting out a sputtering moan as you came. The feeling of you squeezing around him, soaking him, was enough to send Anakin over the edge.
Heavy and ragged breaths came out of your mouths as Anakin slowly dropped you down from his arms and helped you get dressed. The silence that ensued wasn't awkward, it was tense. Both of you knowing how this could change everything. 
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A/N : Guys please don't expect my writing to be perfect, I'm not a professional writer, and It'll take time for me to learn and progress. Also btw the plan in the beginning was inspired by that one scene in the movie 'Red Notice'. It's a great film, you guys should definitely watch it! Anyway, I hope you guys liked this, if I made any mistakes or if you have any tips, please don't hesitate to let me know! <3
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ganondoodle · 4 months
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(totk rewritten)
finally, all the arm and spirit abilities- for the first half of the game (rauru) and for the second half with the shiekah arm replacing links arms instead and the spirit abilities gained through ganondorf
(please excuse my handwriting and sometimes repeated info on the first two, i lost motivation/patience at the end and couldnt get myself to basically redo it all from scratch just to make it a bit more cleaner)
note, the camera rune is unconnected to the arm, its the shiekah stone copy link has (zelda carries the one from botw, a copy was attempted to be made for link but it lacks all runes except the camera, the map and its teleportation, and journal/archive)
note for the heal effects of some spirit abilities- im also reworking the healing system, making it more like the older games, so healing isnt as easy and much more restricted, thus making those effects of spirit abilities more valuable ( lil potion icon on the d pad will act a little bit like in skyward sword, opens your limited selection of healing items and if chosen link switches to holding it and letting you consume it with -a- while walking around in real time- to avoid more pausing and mass healing on regular items while in menu)
additional note, the automatic recharging of the magic meter depending on the environment gives you a reliable but less abusable way of using abilities and allows for even more creative dungeon/challenge design by using it effectively- it works by absorbing magic from its surroundings, so if its an area with little magic it recharges slower, if its a very spiritual or healthy place it will recharge faster, it can be used to make things more challenging and also as subtle storytelling (example, theres a graveyard with the magic energy around being off the charts, even if there are no spirits to see, it could hint at the people buried not having died peacefully, no matter what their gravestone says...)
the usage of magic and how much the different abilities cost also allows for a much more dynamic fighting style for players to choose and try out, balancing them all out with their cost instead of a fixed timer, and the recharging beign affected by the environment perhaps forcing players that favor high cost magic abilities to use the lower cost ones for example, or not being able to charge one up bc the enemy is too fast and doesnt give you enough time to charge it
about half of the small overworld dungeons (not shrines) are also locked/inaccessible for the first half and new quests appear as the second half commences- together with the additional changes raurus return brings with it (sonau buildings, enemies being mostly cosntructs that he summoned etc) and whole set of new abilities giving you a fresh new way to play while (hopefully) not making you feel too restricted for the first half
... making these detailed concepts took me longer than id like to admit q-q
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aphrogeneias · 2 months
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Congratulations, bby! 🥰 I’d love to participate but I am so lousy at prompts 😓
I’d love like an interview moment? All the press for Day One has got me thinking about Eddie doing like marathon interviews and him being like…distracted by his assistant the whole time?
If it doesn’t spark anything feel free to toss ❤️
warnings: smut (+18), biting, oral (f receiving). sex flashbacks in the middle of the day are one's biggest enemy.
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Somewhere between the third and fourth questions, Eddie zoned out.
The band was lined up at the press conference table, and as he sat at the far left of his bandmates, his mind started wandering. He didn't know if it was the flash of the cameras going off, or the repetitive questions being made by the journalists sitting on the chairs reserved for the press in front, but he couldn't keep his attention fixed.
“What can we expect from this second U.S. tour now that…”, and “Can you guys tell us your plan for…”, and “What do you think about the comparisons made between you and…”. The last question, made by a man directly in front of him, almost made him roll his eyes. Eddie looked away, barely concealing a sigh, and let Jeff handle that question more gracefully than he ever could.
He chose the circus life, he enjoyed the circus life, but when it was moments like this where he discovered he didn't have much patience for it.
Wandering, like his mind, his eyes found you standing at the side, between Rick and their manager, Jim. With your trusty notebook in hand, listening to Rick whispering something as you scribbled something quickly. Eddie wanted to smile at your concentrated face, and the way your nose scrunched as you struggled with the ballpoint pen in your hand.
He couldn't, though, but that didn't stop him from looking.
As you strained your neck further to listen more closely to what Rick was telling you, the collar of your sweater moved just enough for him to see a peek of a reddened — quickly turning purple — bruise close to your collarbone.
The memory hit him, then, all at once.
You spread before him in bed like a feast, looking good enough to eat. Running his nose through your naked chest, nuzzling his cheek on your soft skin to feel you close, holding you down with his hands on your waist. Your giggles and your hands on his hair, keeping it from falling on his face.
Marking you with his lips and teeth, tongue and spit, lavishing you with it. Teeth on your neck, suckling on your sensitive skin, relishing on the sweet noises you made, on the feeling of your hands as they squeezed his shoulders, nails digging into his flesh.
You marked him as he marked you, and if he moved shoulders the right way, he could still feel them running down his back.
Eddie sat, bored, his legs spread wide, thinking about you. About sucking bruises over your chest, leaving delicate bites on your nipples, the bite mark he left on your lower stomach, knowing he would find it there later, if he lifted your pretty sweater up. Another journalist raises their hand, another question is made.
Another memory of his mouth on you, kissing your thighs, biting on the meat of them. Your taste on his tongue, like honey on his lips. The view of your back arching as he raised his eyes to see you fall apart on his mouth and fingers, hands squeezing your tits just as he'd asked.
He shifted uncomfortably on his seat, wishing he'd kept his sunglasses on. His already tight jeans feel tighter, and if he closed his eyes, he could still feel you on him, skin on skin, thighs squeezing his waist, the bed moving and hitting the wall behind you, the shadows undulating on the wall.
If this was a spell you'd gotten him under, he didn't wish to be broken free.
“My question is for Munson,” he heard, then, coming from a journalist at the far back. A woman, with a microphone labeled with a magazine he'd heard of before, but only in passing, “do you…”
He had to ask her to repeat her question, amping up his charm, making the crowd of press-people laugh. You didn't know what you'd done, but he'd get you for it later.
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