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#and also i have floor seats this time. so
Note
Chris, I suffer of simpinitis and the only cure is you to write for Arlecchino (just a joke don't feel pressured especially if you end up not liking her also good luck if you're pulling for her)
(Genshin Impact) Arlecchino, Lynette, Xianyun, and Barbara's S/O getting scared by a spider
I don't plan on pulling for her because Clorinde is showing up, but FEAR NOT ANON! Quoth the FFXIV:
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Arlecchino watches with vague amusement as S/O suddenly leaps back, nearly into her arms.
She catches them with minimal effort as her eyes slowly track tiny movement on the floor.
A spider was skittering across the floor at a slow pace, making her gaze trail back to S/O.
(Arlecchino) "Spiders are not very likely to attack humans without being provoked. And even then, that is under the most dire of circumstances-"
(S/O) "I-I know, but...they're just creepy!"
(Arlecchino) "Indeed."
With a hum of acknowledgement, she almost drops S/O to the ground as they barely caught themselves in time.
Arlecchino walks over to the spider and gently puts it in a cup before releasing it outside.
She crosses her arms as distant memories from her past came trickling in.
(Arlecchino) "You wouldn't have liked Bambi."
(S/O) "Who's that?"
(Arlecchino) "A pet spider that I once owned."
(S/O) Of course you owned one...
They were smart enough to not say that out loud, but Arlecchino had the faintest hint of a smile on her lips.
She probably knew what they were thinking anyway.
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Even when she was spacing out, Lynette could easily spot something moving in the corner of her eye.
(Lynette) "Oh, a spider-"
(S/O) "WHAT?!"
S/O immediately balled up onto the couch, head rapidly darting back and forth.
(S/O) "W-WHERE?!"
Lynette's ears twitched from how loud S/O was being, but she easily grabbed the spider in a cup, noting how S/O was inching away from her.
(Lynette) "It's not even a dangerous kind, just a regular-"
(S/O) "I don't care what it is, just throw it out!"
Lynette smiled and gently let it escape out the house.
As she sat back down next to S/O, her tail swished playfully, though Lynette herself was stoic as ever.
(Lynette) "What are you going to do when i'm not here?"
(S/O) "D-Don't tease me!"
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Xianyun adjusts her glasses when she sees a spider on the table.
S/O almost dropped their food completely at the sight of it, while Xianyun looked slightly annoyed.
(Xianyun) "How unsightly for a dinner table."
With a small gust of wind, she flicks it away, making S/O leap out their seat.
(S/O) "GAH! D-Don't fling it at me!"
(Xianyun) "One was not aiming at you, dear. Do be careful, otherwise your plate will drop."
S/O took a deep breath of relief while Xianyun continued to eat.
(Xianyun) "Hm...One has an idea for an invention. We could construct you a machine that can take care of household pests like that."
(S/O) "...W-Would you?"
Xianyun suddenly beams with pride, a gleam of light reflecting off her glasses.
(Xianyun) "Fear not, One will make sure you are never bothered by a spider ever again! We will get started straight away after dinner."
What ended up happening was Xianyun constructed a machine that was too good at killing household pests, to the point it broke parts of the wall.
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Both Barbara and S/O yelp when they see a spider speed along the tiles of the Cathedral.
(S/O) "Aw man, it's going up to the ceiling!"
(Barbara) "I-It's not going to drop on our heads, is it?!"
The two exchanged a look that said neither were wanting to find out the answer.
Accepting defeat, the two quickly exited the cathedral out onto the plaza.
(S/O) "Do you think we could ask one of the sisters to help us?"
(Barbara) "U-Um...well-"
It didn't take long for either of them to realize that it'd be absolutely mortifying to ask a sister for something so trivial.
Instead, they decided to practice their singing outside.
Which arguably, was worse since spiders could be anywhere, but it didn't seem to cross their minds as they slowly became comfortable again and laughed the situation off.
Until the next day they forgot about it and entered the cathedral, only to be jumpscared by it as it sat on the pews they were at.
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tragedy-of-commons · 3 days
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lay your life down and pretty
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various hsr x gn!reader | wc: ~2k
In which you die (or they've already lost you).
tags/warnings: character death (reader), it's implied in dh's part but explicit and semi-graphic in hanya's, descriptions of mara and the insanity that comes with it, hardcore angst, hurt no comfort, there may be Lore Inaccuracies
notes: this was originally supposed to be four parts. i'm sorry it's only two but it's just been uhhh... hope you enjoy & thanks for the incredible support lately <3
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Dan Heng makes the best pancakes.
You’ve expressed this undeniable fact to his face multiple times, louder in their progression just to see the tips of his ears burn that endearing red. These declarations are reserved for breakfast. At this time you also chide him for trying to weasel his way out of eating the most important meal of the day!
And he’d sigh, letting you hound him about food options until he’d crack under the weight of your grin and end up mixing batter at 7:30 in the morning.
(“I tried flipping them in the air once and the pancake slapped me in the face,” you’d regaled, head resting idly on your fist.
Dan Heng stared into the black of the skillet. “...Somehow, I don’t doubt it.”
“And just what is that supposed to mean?” you huffed.
He almost let not-quite laugh slip then, but because of his stuck-uppery, he just managed to look peeved. “I would appreciate it if you passed me the butter.”)
Instead it is around 9:00 in the morning, and Dan Heng is alone. 
He’d stayed up late the night before doing some reading, causing him to oversleep and rush the process today. He’s almost burned his hand on the stove eye twice, nearly dropped an egg on the floor, and has just narrowly avoided burning the batch. Dan Heng is not clumsy (not like you were), and he is painfully aware that he is late.
After he plates the food, the oven clock reads 9:19. He gathers everything, including two sets of utensils and one awkward wad of napkins - before setting the table by heart. Your plate goes in front of the chair closest to the window, and his goes in front of the one adjacent to yours. 
The rhythm of distributing each item eventually leaves him with empty hands. Everything is ready, but there is still something colossal missing from the scene.
Dan Heng stares hard at your empty seat before taking his own. 
The pancakes are blackened around the edges, but it’s nothing a good heaping portion of syrup can’t fix, and the smell that wafts upward is sweet and inviting. The sun’s rays shining in from the outside world paint the kitchen in flecks of light that occasionally catch on his arm when he brings his fork to his mouth.
Resigned, his silverware clatters noisily to the table.
“I’m sorry,” he breathes, “I’m sorry that I was late.”
Predictably, there’s no response. Dan Heng’s throat feels like it’s closing up on him, and the syrup definitely isn’t helping. He dabs his mouth with his napkin for a good long while.
He is sorry. It wasn’t enough that he’d stayed up late the night before, but that he deliberately kept glancing at the clock and counting the hours until daylight arrived - reminding himself that if he drifted off, the next day would come much sooner.
He isn’t the type to procrastinate either. Even when you’re not here anymore, you seem to have a profound effect on his character. Dan Heng pinches the bridge of his nose. The sound of his voice echoing off the walls of the lonely kitchen is unwelcome. “Happy birthday.”
It’s strained, imperfect, and painful; which only serves to remind him of your insistence on celebrating his birthday as well. You had practically prostrated yourself at his feet, begging him to let you fuss over him - even if it made his vision hazy and palms sweaty. He needs to return the favor, even if the mere idea of another important date passing him up without you makes him want to hide.
So here he is. 
Here he is, floundering terribly, missing you terribly, loving you terribly. Dan Heng wrenches his hand from its secure position in his lap to drum on the table.
“I got you something,” he says. “I… I didn’t know which color you’d prefer more, so…”
You’d tease him into an early grave if you were able to see the knitted oven mitt he’d picked out over two months ago. It’s an almost hideous shade of teal that he’s sure you’d love, especially since you forced him to bake with you regularly.
(He was shopping with March 7th when he’d seen it and then reflexively dumped it into his basket. His companion only asked him if he was planning on using it as kindling for the fireplace.)
Dan Heng closes his eyes and slides it over to your placement. For a second, he almost fools himself into thinking you might magically appear to brush fingers when you accept the gift with a bright smile. He has no such luck.
Your breakfast is getting colder, and there’s nothing to be done today; his friends, as much as he can say he appreciates them - also meddle quite a bit. His schedule was mysteriously cleared up and he was gently encouraged to go home and take the day off. The feeling of three pairs of eyes drilling holes into his back as he complied was a bit too potent to be coincidental.
So he sits there and pretends he’s eating with you for as long as he can. The stutters in the familiar rhythm that comes with today are things he can smooth out over time, even if it feels like a betrayal to you. You would never see it like that, which is why he can even live in a home without you in it at all.
(The oven mitt rests beside your full plate until the afternoon, because he cannot bring himself to clean up just yet. He doesn’t think he’ll ever be ready to.)
Dan Heng is not a man who can afford to hope, but he’s already been in debt since the moment of his birth. If just one of his prayers is granted, he hopes it’s the one he runs through his mind every night:
In the next life, please let us cross paths again. And if there’s room for it, please let me love you for as long as I can.
He’s never been one for optimism, but it’s all he looks forward to.
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Hanya’s hands cradle the expanse of your face.
Her fingers ghost over any healthy glow remaining in your cheeks. You’re slipping, rightfully so, but does it make her a monster if she wants to claw and rifle through the sands of time to search for any universe where you were spared from this cruel fate?
(She thinks it does.)
You can’t get the words out, but there’s a resigned film that glazes over your eyes - one that tells her that she needn’t lie about where you’ll be going. Your mouth forms silent syllables punctuated by wheezes that will surely send her careening under the depths of the unconscious at record speed.
“Han.. ya,” you croak, “Stay.”
“I will,” she promises, because she needs to - over and over, until you remember it always, even when you’re gone. Even when you’re suffering through the last moments of your fledgling life. “I will remain here.”
Her duty as a Judge of the Ten-Lords Commission is to oversee life and death on the Xianzhou. When Hanya drifts aimlessly like a spectre between inky darkness and blinding daylight, it has occasionally struck her that one day she might have to oversee yours.
Presently, your mind is being swallowed by the maw of mara, a madness that she’s all too familiar with; faced with her dull countenance, she must have witnessed thousands succumb to the fate of infernal life. 
“D-Don’t cry,” you beseech. There isn’t much time until you’re no longer Hanya’s secret reprieve, but instead a writhing abomination - and she only has herself to blame. Had she not embraced you so tightly, would you be free of this curse? Would you still be smiling and dragging her by the hand through Exalting Sanctum?
“I will not send you there,” she breathes, “You are not deserving of—”
The agonizing cry you let out next is still beautiful. Even now you can mitigate the emptiness that’s dug its claws in her heart so deep that it’s become symbiotic with the organ. However, instead of the empty, Hanya feels its distant relative: the pins and needles. The hollow white noise crackles until she’s pierced with an arsenal of skeletal knives.
She could take it, and she would take it, if it meant that you weren’t about to die and then awaken again as a monster that desecrates the very concept of you.
She releases your now matching tear-stricken cheeks before seizing both of your arms. The thrashing has crept in, meaning that there isn’t much time before you start sprouting leaves and weeds like a statue abandoned by its devotees. 
A sharp inhale through clenched teeth. “You have… to. M’gonna hurt—” you convulse in her grasp, “—somebody...”
Of course you’re worrying about others right now. Kindness is a relic of the past that you’ve somehow managed to exhume, restore to its full glory, and gift to Hanya like she deserves to touch others’ lives in the same way you have. 
Every shopkeep knows your name, face, voice, and smile. Your warmth is infectious - even before she knew you in person, she knew of you by word of mouth. Xueyi had told her that the reason Huohuo was so resolute in her duties lately was because of “the person who defeated a bunch of reprobate hooligan bullies tormenting her”. 
If her big sister held you in high regard, she figured you were one she wouldn’t mind exchanging greetings with if you ever crossed paths. However, the thing about you is that you always give more than you take; you too eventually gave her your smile over tea, your opinion on her writing, and a perspective from the light she usually only smothers upon first contact. 
It seems that it was just a matter of time before Hanya extinguished you.
“You are not ready,” she begs pitifully, “You are not!”
She knows it’s never about being ready. Bad things always happen to good people - to sons, daughters, friends, big sisters, and lovers.
Lovers. 
The word is foreign on the tip of her tongue. It’s strange to be actualized and even stranger to ascribe that label to your relationship, but Hanya doesn’t know what else to think when the knives stab her over and over to the elegy of I love you, I love you, I love you.
The trek from Fyxestroll Garden to the Alchemy Commission is sizable. The Dragon Lady could see you and do her best, but she’s seen where that’s led; best efforts gone to waste, inconsolable loved ones given false hope because they were too stubborn to let go.
Is that what she is? Too stubborn to let you go, even when she’s brought this karma upon you?
(Yes, something ugly whispers, this is your penance. Now it’s theirs too.)
“I...” you let out a strangled groan, and when your chest jerks upwards, it barely registers that you brush your lips against hers. There’s tears and snot everywhere, and you’re getting stronger - too strong for her to hold. Hanya’s forearms ache with the strain as gingko leaves begin to ravage your humanity and rip you apart.
The transformation process is cruel, but she promised to remain by your side. Twigs protrude from your neck, nestled between thorny brambles that poke and prod. You are not a Cloud Knight, so your screams aren’t muffled by armor - or muted by the numbness she feels when dealing with other cases. 
It’s too real, it’s too much, and it’s not enough.
Drowned out by the previous mantra of I love you, the background vocals of I’m so sorry peter off into whispers that are soon lost among the sickening squelch of Xueyi’s blade cutting through you in one clean motion. The tip of the sword rests over Hanya’s heart, stained with your blood.
“...That’s not them anymore,” her sister says. It’s off-kilter, the way her brow is furrowed in a silent apology.
One can only hope.
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taglist: @flower-yi, @moineauz, @aphrodict, @nomazee
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waterlilydrops · 2 days
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Archive
It’s part 2 of THIS :)
pairing: Lewis Hamilton x fem!reader
summary: your new sex routine with Lewis: having sex while watching your sex tapes.
word count: 2k
warning: 18+ only, nsfw, explicit sex content, sex tapes, oral sex(m received), P in V sex, dirty talk, slightly Dom/Sub, spanking, praise kink. If you feel uncomfortable, please exit promptly.
note: Italicized text represents the content and dialogue from the video. That idea was sparked by an anon, thank you! As always, welcome any advice or suggestions.
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“Baby, which one should we watch today?”Lewis took out the videotapes and placed them on the cabinet, looking at the marker-penned labels as he asked, “The Christmas one? Or the one I made you cum with my fingers?”
You lightly tapped his shoulder. “Hey, that wasn’t just about me.”
He gazed at you intently, black eyes filled with earnestness, “But you looked especially beautiful when you cum.” As if to say tonight’s dinner was particularly good.
That time was really intense. What happened again? Oh, you think it was because you both had a bit to drink. Does alcohol-free tequila also make people drunk? Once in a tipsy mood, after a few kisses, desire surged like a tidal wave.
Lewis turned off all the indoor lights, leaving only a floor lamp on.
“Hey, today was dd/mm/yy.” In the scene, a gentle flush colored your cheekbones, and your eyes sparkled with a radiant smile.
Ah, how did we get into that state? Did we have a few drinks then?
“Here is... Lewis.” The next second, like a beacon of charisma, Lewis’s face emerged in the frame, his beautiful brown skin radiant under the lights.
The video suddenly paused.
“What’s wrong?” You turned to look at him.
“Can we have a competition?” Okay, his desire to win extended beyond the race track.
“What are we competing in?”
“Whoever initiates the kiss first loses.”
As the video resumed, his arms wrapped around your middle as he hugged you tightly into his chest, and one of his hands slid down between your legs.
“Take your clothes off, Lewis.”
Were you always this direct when you were tipsy?
Sure enough, the next moment his palm rested on your mound. But surprisingly, he just left it there, without making any further moves.
In the video, the two of you had already started stripping each other’s clothes off. The camera was placed on the bedside table. With rustling sounds, you hastily removed your clothes, letting them fall to the floor, and without a pause, you began kissing passionately.
As the camera zoomed in on the intense kiss between you and Lewis, you shifted in your seat, feeling your tongue moistening your lips in anticipation. Your inner thighs brushed against his wrist, nestled between them, and you sensed a delicious dampness beginning to seep through your panties.
You couldn’t get wet that soon. Otherwise, it would seem too eager.
You stole a glance at Lewis’s profile beside you. the contours of his strong nose and the hint of a well-groomed beard were illuminated softly by the ambient light. He was completely absorbed in watching.
The sound of kissing in the video was accompanied by a soft, wet noise.
Damn, regretting it now. Why did you make it a competition? He should be kissing you right now. You really want it, your whole body is tense, wanting to be devoured by him.
Your eyes stared fixedly at the video, how could Lewis be so whole-heartedly in just a kiss?
You were pulled closer by Lewis, his hand on your neck, while his other arm wrapped around your waist, kneading your butt.
The hand between your thighs finally reacted a bit, pressing down on your mound at an extremely slow pace. You squeezed his hand between your legs, grinding against his hips while reaching out to touch his chest. Your palm, through his T-shirt, gripped tightly, eliciting a soft moan.
The camera zoomed in, revealing his abs tensing and relaxing. Your throat involuntarily swallowed drools as your hand slid down from Lewis's chest to his thighs.
With a few swift movements, his underwear was pulled down, and his semi-erect cock sprang out. Your smaller hand grasped it the next second, stroking it gently up and down.
“The way you get hard is so sexy...”
“well,” his strong arm appeared in the frame, probably caressing your face from the angle, “but you, baby, are even sexier.”
A rush of heat surged through your body. His low laughter, filtered through the speakers, only made it itchier, so you discreetly rubbed against the bedsheet, your hand slipping into Lewis‘s waistband. After a few strokes through his underwear, you couldn’t resist anymore.
That weighty thing was too enticing, and you wanted to feel it now.
You relenting and tugging his boxers down. Your mouth waters as his hard cock springs free, slapping against his navel with a lewd sound. You don’t hesitate to wrap your hand around the base, angling his pretty length towards your mouth.
No kissing. that’s mean I can kiss his cock?
You lean your head down, suck just the tip into your mouth, swirling your tongue over his sensitive head. satisfied, and deliberately squinting your eyes as you looked up at Lewis.
“you’re breaking the rules...”
“Rules—” You slowly opened your mouth, allowing the head of his cock to slide into your mouth, and let your tongue swirl around it. “are meant to be broke, right?”
As you finished speaking, you performed several deepthroats, emitting soft moans as your lips hugged the base of the penis, causing Lewis to gasp urgently. You were quite satisfied with the current situation, able to both suck his cock and escape the video, at least for a while.
“You like that, don’t you?”You asked in a muffled voice because your mouth was occupied.
“Didn’t your family teach you not to talk with your mouth full?” Lewis shot back in a cross between an annoyed and sexy tone.
All Lewis received for his effort was you caressing his sacks, and the gentle touch of you cheek against his throbbing member made Lewis clench his fists as he growled.
You raised your eyelids, meeting Lewis’s gaze. The non-kissing contest came to an immediate end.
You were pulled up by the arm and your mouth was covered, Lewis devouring your lips as if starving for days.
There we go. That’s more like it.
“You lost.”
“Yeah, what reward do you want?”
“Spank me.”
The eighth.
You inhaled deeply, silently counting in your mind.
Kneeling on the bed, your buttocks raised high. The only downside is that with a slight lift of your head, you could see the tangled couple on the screen (Currently, you were making loud noises because you were being fingered). Lewis deliberately positioned you facing the screen. Your ears were filled with your own moans and gasps. You momentarily buried your head in your arms in an attempt to escape. Both cheeks were burning with heat, but there was a subtle sense of satisfaction in your heart. Lewis indeed fulfilled his promise, delivering firm strikes with gusto, not holding back at all.
“Feel good?”Lewis laid you back, your head dipping between the pillows.
He was quick to get you out of your panties, he was quick to press his cock to your twitching clit. A steady hand dragged his cock up and down your folds, the cock catching on your bud each time. 
“Sir…” You whined, you needed his fat cock so bad. You needed to be plugged up before you sprang a leak. when your drippy cunt squelched, the slick, gushy sounds went straight to his cock as it jumped.
Up and down, up and down. Lewis guided his cock over your clit, and past your fleshy folds, teasing your needy hole by stretching you out with just the tip. Then he pulled out. When he finally fucking pushed into your warmth, you squeezed him tight, he sank in till all of him was wrapped up in your cunt.
The momentarily neglected video suddenly emitted the moans of you two. You reflexively raised your eyes to see Lewis fully inserting his shaft into your pussy.
“It’s all in.”
The feeling of the cock entering you made you toss your head back and moan, bit your lip and didn’t breath as Lewis inched deeper.
“Mmm...You’re so big, ahh, I like it.”
“You were so honest about it... Is alcohol really that magical?” Lewis teased as slowly pulled his dick out and then pushed it back in making your wet pussy sputter out the sound you both loved hearing so much.
Fuck... Is it because of doggy style? Lewis were particularly vigorous today, thrusting exceptionally deep.
“Ahhhh! O-Ohh god!” Your eyes rolled back when Lewis’s hand held onto your waist as he moved inside you in a fast and rough pace as his other hand pulled your hair making you arch your back making him hit a really good spot.
You felt him slightly pull his cock out before ramming back inside making you moan out loud because of the sudden pleasure, his shaft reached so deep because of a one deep thrust.
During sex, Lewis was very good at praising. Or rather, he was someone who frequently gave compliments even in everyday situations, but during sex, he was more straightforward with his praise, saying exactly what he felt. Even in the current video, his compliments were non-stop—
“Your pussy is so good…”
“You’re so delicious babe... I could fuck you all day…”
“Look at you, my beautiful gooey slit…”
These deep, seductive whispers, like the voice of a god of desire, swirled around in your mind, turning your rationality into chaos... There’s no need to even look at the video; just the sound alone was enough to intoxicate you. You closed your eyes drowsily, involuntarily matching Lewis’s pelvic thrusts, chasing after pleasure, indulging in the sensation...
“You’re silent today, huh?” Lewis bit down on your neck, leaving it all puffy. His pace slowed, focusing on giving it to you slow and deep, circling his hips so you felt every inch of him. The slow, sticky grind made a wet noise.
Your legs were now shaking as you were already nearing your climax. You tightly gripped the sheets.
“Ohh! D-Don’t hit me there t-too much!”You exclaimed as he continuously hit your favorite spot. He leaned on your back and grabbed your chin making you tilt your head to his direction. His big hand grabbed your tits as he pinched your nipple.
“You’re making me cum, little slut.” Lewis whispered and his thrusts became sloppier, you held onto his thighs, burying your nails in them. “A-Ahh! P-Please! Please! Ohh god!”
"Please what baby?" He teased.
“P-Please let me cum… Let me cum sir—ahh!” You loudly moaned when he moved inside you ruthlessly as his other hand found its way to your clit.
“Then cum. Cum with me.” Lewis sucked on your neck while thrusting as deep and quickly as he could to bring himself to an orgasm. His grunts of power echoed through the room and mix with yours. As you were fucked to an earth shattering climax, he erupted inside of you.
“Y/N, open your eyes.”
Your eyes barely opened, and you saw yourself on the video squirting gently, your legs convulsed spasmodically, your pussy continued dripping.
Your ass was still red, Lewis spread you open to see how your cunt gaped, empty without his fat cock, his seed dribbled out as your pussy contracted, spilling down your ass crack.
As your breathing gradually calmed, the room became quiet.
“Can I film your little hole?”
Both of you instantly turned towards the only source of sound in the room. On the video was an obviously just-squirted you.
The camera shook for a moment, and Lewis’s voice came through again:
“Oh, it’s twitching...”
You weakly emitted a groan. The camera shook again, and your ass and thighs appeared in the frame. Lewis’s fingers, coated with cum, entered the frame, gently stroking the entrance a few times before spreading it open with two fingers, aiming the camera there.
You leaned into Lewis’s embrace, burying your head in his neck, refusing to look. Meanwhile, the voice on the video, now synced with him nibbling your earlobe, said:
“I really love you. I love you the most.”
The video ended there. Lewis gently kissed the top of your head, his hand smoothing over your back. From his neck, a muffled voice emerged:
“I love you too.”
“Yeah, that’s it, the boys are gonna lose their minds.”
“Suck on it, good girl…”
“Ahhh, you are so hot, looking up at me like that, choking on my cock…”
“Ohh, when the boys see this, they are going to get rock hard…”
“Do you like that? my friends watching a video of you sucking me?”
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wheeboo · 2 days
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all yours | yoon jeonghan
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SYNOPSIS. in which you get a bit too drunk on your special day. PAIRING. yoon jeonghan x gn!reader GENRE. fluff, established relationship WARNINGS. mentions of drinking alcohol and throwing up, reader has long enough hair to be pulled back, cursing, terms of endearment WORD COUNT. 1.4k
requested from anon: Hi hope all is well, just wanted to say Congrats on the milestone! You deserve it! And if it’s okay I would like to request #29 and #52 from prompt list 1 with Jeonghan thank you in advance if you do it. Congrats again to 2k you honestly deserve it :) - #29: "I do love you, you know. Even if I'm shit at showing it." - #52: "Shut up, you love me. Why else would you be here, taking care of me while I hurl into a toilet?"
notes: thank u sm anon 😭🫶 ur so so sweet ily AAAA sending consensual smooches ur way 😚😚 also genuinely did not know what to title this lmfao
join the 2k celebration!
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Okay, maybe you've had a bit too much to drink tonight.
It's your birthday anyway, so surely you have the right to go a little bit overboard on your special day... right?
"Ugh, I feel like shit," You mumble groggily, your body drifting and hitting the bathtub right next to you with a thud as the sounds of the toilet flushing bounce off the walls of the bathroom.
Jeonghan just crosses his arms together, leaning against the doorway with a sly smirk to his face. His eyes peer over your flushed face, slightly tousled hair and overall cute, disheveled appearance. You huff a breath as your gaze meets his, and a small, almost dreamy smile of your own forms on your face despite knowing how absurd you look right now.
"How do I look?" You ask, drawing your words out drunkenly.
"Honestly?" Jeonghan starts, and you lift a brow in anticipation. "You look ravishingly awful."
The words that leave his mouth has your face twisting in confusion, your brain hardly processing whatever the hell he just said (you'll take it as a compliment nonetheless, thanks to your cloudy mind).
However, Jeonghan just chuckles, fully stepping his way into the bathroom and towards where you are plopped down on the tile floor. He carefully sits himself down on the rim of the bathtub, expression softening right away with concern as he reaches out to gently brush a stray strand of hair from your face, feeling the warmth on your face from the alcohol to his fingers.
You lean into his touch instinctively, closing your eyes for a few seconds. "My body is going to hate me in the morning."
Jeonghan retracts his hand slightly, but not before his fingertips lingers your cheek, sending a jolt through your already-buzzing body and causing your eyes to flutter open. You can feel the heat creeping back up your neck, suddenly feeling shy under his gaze.
"Hmm, not if I take care of you real well, yeah?" he muses teasingly, and you could only groan in response, feeling the alcohol earlier make your head spin once more. But a tiny, sober part of you registers the warmth in his gaze.
That is, until you can start to feel something bubble up your throat, and before you can react, your stomach lurches, and you're scrambling for the toilet just in time to expel the contents of your stomach. You heave and retch, feeling utterly miserable as Jeonghan helps by pulling back your hair and rubbing your back soothingly.
As the wave of nausea passes, your hand releases its hold on the cold porcelain of the toilet seat. You lean back once more, nearly toppling over before Jeonghan's hands catch you by the shoulders, helping to straighten up your posture. You let out a sluggish sigh.
"Well, maybe you're not wrong about your body hating you," he says jokingly, then squeezes your shoulders right after as if reassure you. "I would not want to be the receiving end of all... that."
You roll your eyes in playful annoyance and yank his grip off you, his laughter ringing in your ears. "I... Shut up, you love me. Why else would you be here, taking care of me while I hurl into a toilet?"
A feigned gasp leaves Jeonghan as he dramatically clutches his chest. But the inebriated glare you throw his way doesn't seem to faze him in the slightest. You catch the way his face quickly dissolves into his horribly distinguishable shit-eating grin.
"Ah, you figured out my secret, my dearest," he responds with an exaggerated flair, cupping your face gently with his hand. "You getting wasted made you more perceptive than I thought."
You swat at him weakly, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "You're impossible."
"Only for you." He cheesily presses a kiss to the top of your head. "How are you feeling? Can you stand up?"
"Mmmh... help me?" You laggardly open your arms up to him, a pout forming at your mouth.
Your eyes are too heavy to catch the way Jeonghan is gazing at you so adoringly right now. He takes your outstretched arms and helps to hoist you up to your feet. For a moment, you're eye-to-eye, your head spinning slightly from the sudden movement and the world tilting a little as you stand.
Jeonghan secures a hand at your lower back as he carefully leads you out of the bathroom and back into your bedroom, catching a glimpse to the remains of the party from earlier scattered about the room. Balloons hang lazily at the ceiling, confetti laying across the floor𑁋you can deal with it in the morning.
"You're a hot mess," he comments teasingly, though there's a fondness in his tone as he guides you to the bed.
You flop down onto the mattress with a groan, the softness of the pillows cushioning against your throbbing head. Jeonghan disappears for a minute to retrieve a bottle of pills from the bathroom and a glass of water from the kitchen, placing it on your bedside table before sitting down beside you, his hand reaching out to brush hair away from your forehead.
You crack open an eye to look at him, feeling yourself trying so hard to not fall asleep on the spot.
"Do... you think they know?"
Jeonghan looks back down at you. "Who?"
"Every... Everyone who came today, uh..." You mutter, motioning the air with your hand. "I didn't... do anything weird out there, right? We haven't really told anyone about us yet..."
Jeonghan purses his lips together, eyelids fluttering as if he's trying to remember the events of the party. He crosses his arms together, and you should probably know from the smirk appearing at his face that𑁋
"Hm, like, weird as in when you tried to kiss me earlier after you sang karaoke? Or𑁋"
"Are you being serious right now?!" There's a long, drawn out unintelligible sound that you whine as you bury your face into the pillow, the cool fabric soothing against your flushed cheeks. "Oh my god, I'm so stupid..."
"My love, I still don't entirely understand why we have to hide it," Jeonghan says gently, his fingers trailing lightly along your arm. "Your affection is pretty obvious, you know."
You snort at that, but you can't really deny it anyway since yeah, you are pretty affectionate with him. And it isn't that you don't want people to know. The thought of people knowing is completely fine, but it's really just that your friends can be absolute nutcases sometimes, and you really don't want to be at the teasing end of the stick right now when all you want is a bit of privacy, at least in the beginning.
"I just... I want you all to myself, you know?" You ramble drowsily, words still slightly slurred. "Just wanna... um, keep this between us for now. N-Not that I'm ashamed or anything, I just... want this to be ours."
Jeonghan lets his eyes take you in for a few moments, a soft look gracing over his features. He glances down at the way his hand seems to seems to instinctively find yours, your fingers intertwining loosely. Frankly, he’s already yours𑁋been yours from the moment the thought of you started to become a frequent visitor to his head.
"Of course," he assures lightly, not taking his eyes off you even while adjusting the pillows so you're in a more comfortable position. "Get some sleep now, okay?"
"M'kay," You utter out, feeling the weight of the bed lift when Jeonghan stands up. Yet as a thought crosses your mind, you call out to him, "Jeonghan?"
He pauses, turning back to look at you with gentle eyes.
"I... I do love you, you know," You confess slowly, almost hesitantly, like that small flicker of sobriety had finally peeked through the haze of alcohol. "Even if I'm shit at showing it."
Jeonghan feels his heart racing in his chest, and the heat flaring at the tips of his ears. On the surface, it's normally hard to detect such reactions to whatever loving, cheesy, romantic stuff you've said to him (since usually, he'd rather tease you into the grave instead). But on the inside, his heart is practically doing cartwheels, somersaults, and backflips all at once𑁋he would quite literally do anything for you.
"Are you going to remember any of this in the morning?" he remarks playfully.
You only shrug loosely, eyelids drooping from exhaustion. "I might... maybe. But, uh, at least you know, right?"
His lips just curl up lovingly. Even if you don’t remember it, those three words would be the first things he would say every morning anyway.
"I love you too, angel," he says against the skin of your temple. "Happy birthday."
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aemonds-fire · 3 days
Text
Crush
Modern Aemond Targaryen x Female (Oneshot)
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Summary: Months ago Aemond hesitated to tell you how he felt. After your boyfriend breaks up with you, he won't make that mistake again.
Word Count: 3807
Warnings: MDNI, 18+, SMUT, Little plot, lots of smut, profanity, Size kink, Praise kink, Aemond being hot, seductive, funny, and adorable.
Personal Favorite 💖
Masterlist
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‘Why the hell did I let them talk me into coming to this club?'
You know your friends are only trying to help you get through a rough breakup. “It’s time to stop moping and sitting around in your pj’s,” they tell you. “You need to get dressed up, go out, and have some fun,” they insist. So you give in, pampering yourself with a full beauty routine, choosing a racy bra and panty set, and putting together a little black outfit.
Checking yourself in the mirror before you leave, feeling better than you have in the past two weeks, with some of your old confidence coming back knowing that you look good. When your little trio walks into the packed club, you’re glad your friends talked you into coming out tonight, instantly feeling the intoxicating energy from the flashing lights, pulsing music, and dancing crowd.
Snagging a spot at the bar, you buy the first round of drinks, genuinely smiling for the first time since your boyfriend broke up with you. You’re enjoying your second drink and playfully teasing one of your friends when you spot him on the dance floor. Your now-ex-boyfriend who has his hands on his new girlfriend’s ass.
Wanting to act like it doesn’t hurt, you let your friends drag you out to dance. You try to enjoy yourself; you really do, but now the music is too loud, the club is too hot, and you just want to get off the dance floor. Giving your friends a weak smile, you let them know you need a break from dancing and head back to the bar.
Squeezing into a gap at the crowded bar, you try to catch the bartender's attention. While you wait, your mind goes back to your ex-boyfriend. Even though the spark between you was fading, the breakup came out of nowhere. How quickly he had another girlfriend led you to think he may have been cheating on you. So strong was your suspicion, you went to get tested just to be safe. ‘Doesn’t matter,’ you tell yourself. ‘It’s over, and you’re better off without him,’ you try to convince yourself, but it still hurts to be replaced so easily.
You’re drawn from your thoughts when a drink is placed in front of you. When you look up, the bartender says, “It’s from the guy at the end of the bar.”
Turning to look in the direction she’s pointing, you see the buyer of your drink, his long silvery white hair an easy giveaway to his identity. With a tilt of his head, he motions for you to join him.
You’re relieved to see a friendly face, so you don’t hesitate to pick up your drink and make your way over to him. With a genuine smile, “Hi Aemond, I didn’t see you over here.”
Aemond Targaryen returns your smile and immediately offers you his seat at the crowded bar. “Fortunately, I did see you.”
“Thank you, and thanks for the drink too,” you tell him as you slide onto the stylishly modern barstool, draping your leather jacket over the back.
You’ve known the Targaryen siblings for about a year, with Helaena being the one you met first. Since you were new in town, she took you under her wing, showing you the best places to hang out and eat and introducing you to people, including her brothers. Aegon is laid-back with a great sense of humor. He’s also quite a flirt, but a playful smack from his sister made it clear that you were her friend and not to be messed with.
Aemond, who’s a few months younger than you, is very different. Nowhere near as open as Hel and far more serious than Aegon, he's always intrigued you. He’s soft-spoken and reticent, holding back much of who he is, and that makes him difficult to read. You think that guardedness stems from a childhood accident that cost him an eye and left his face scarred.
For a while, you wondered if he liked you at all or if he was just trying to be nice because of Hel. But at parties, your boyfriend usually ended up playing games with Aegon and the guys, and you somehow ended up hanging with Aemond, just talking. Having those chances to talk one-on-one, you discover quick intelligence, a wry sense of humor, and a few shared interests. You decide that he’s just naturally reserved—someone who needs time to relax around people.
“You’re welcome. I’m glad I saw you,” he says, leaning down a bit to be heard better. “You look amazing."
Smiling at the compliment, “You clean up pretty good yourself."
While you’ve struggled to get a handle on his personality, there is no question in your mind regarding his looks. Dressed in black, his button-down shirt and trousers look tailored to his tall and trim build, he exudes sleek athleticism. His casually rolled-up sleeves show off his slender forearms, a stylish, expensive watch on his wrist, and beautiful, large hands with long, slim fingers. His angular face has chiseled features that give him a uniquely handsome appearance. Not even the faded scar or black leather eye patch can detract from his striking good looks. Tonight, his pale, silvery hair is simply pulled back into a loose braid that ends between his shoulder blades.
Taking a sip of your drink, you give him a curious look. “I’m surprised to see you here. Let me guess, Aegon dragged you out and then disappeared in search of something in a short skirt and heels."
“Are we that predictable?” He asks with a crooked grin. “Aegon wanted to meet up with some pretty little thing he’s had his eye on, and I apparently need to get out more.” Reaching for his own drink, ”What’s your story?”
“Some friends decided I needed a night out,” you admit sheepishly. As you answer, you see your ex-boyfriend back on the dance floor.
Aemond, noticing your stare, turns to see who you are looking at. He then moves around to stand between you and the dance floor, blocking them from your view. “Forget about him; he’s not worth it.”
You look down at your hands folded in your lap, trying to push down the hurt you feel when he urges your chin up with his fingers. He looks at you intensely and says, “Don’t cry over that asshole. You deserve far better than the likes of him, babe.”
Meeting his gaze, you nod your head and pull yourself together. ”You’re right. It may take some time, but I’ll be fine.” You down the rest of your drink with a determined smile.
Before you can stop him, Aemond somehow manages to catch the busy bartender’s attention and motions for another round of drinks. When you protest, he leans closer, putting his arm around you and resting his hand on your shoulder. “I’m taking care of you tonight, pretty girl.”
“You'll be better than fine, and it won’t take as long as you think,” he continues with a cocky little smile. “You just need someone who knows how to treat you."
A little jolt goes through your body; whether it’s from the heat of his hand resting on your exposed shoulder or the difference in his demeanor, you’re not sure. This is a more confident and assertive Aemond that you haven’t seen before, and the little nicknames are completely new.
But unsure of your instincts, you jokingly say, “Yeah, some day my prince will come.”
“Hmm. Maybe he already has, princess,” he replies before leaning very close to you, his lips almost brushing against your ear. “I’ve always had a crush on you, always wanted you.”
His words cause a flutter in your chest. When he takes hold of your hand and starts rubbing his thumb on your skin, your breath catches in your throat. “You never said anything." is all you can manage to get out as you turn your head to look at him in surprise.
“That was a mistake I‘m not making again."
Your faces are only inches apart; you’re studying him with wide eyes while your mind races to process this new revelation. The sounds of the club disappear; all you can hear is the pounding of your heart. Closing the slight distance between you, his lips barely brush against yours before pausing, waiting for a signal from you to continue. When your lips instinctively part, he takes that as the go-ahead to kiss you slowly.
His mouth is soft and hot, and his tongue running along your bottom lip feels so good. He pulls back much too soon for your liking, now that passion has sparked inside you. When you impulsively reach to wipe a trace of your lipstick from his mouth, he quickly captures your thumb, drawing it into his mouth, licking and sucking on the tip before releasing it with a kiss.
As warmth rushes through your body, you can feel your skin tingling. The thinking part of your brain tells you this is a bad idea; it’s too soon after your breakup and too impulsive. But the seductive look on his face, the breaking of physical barriers, and his admission of wanting you has started a throbbing between your legs.
Since you’re still stunned silent, he takes the initiative. “Tell me what's going on in that pretty little head of yours."
Biting your bottom lip, trying to sort your thoughts, you ask, “Why didn’t you ever tell me?”
Aemond’s mouth tightens at the question, “I wasn’t sure if the attraction was mutual or if you just saw me as Hel’s kid brother. So I hesitated.” He looks away from you before adding, “Then you met him."
Knowing that opening himself up to others is not easy for him, you gently squeeze his hand in encouragement because you’re raw from your breakup and you need to know just what you could be getting yourself into with Aemond.
Shrugging his shoulders. "You seemed happy, and I thought I blew my chance with you.”
Little things about your friendship start to click in your mind, bringing a smile to your face. Now you’re the one holding his hand, rubbing circles with your thumb on his skin.
With a hopeful smile, he asks, “Can we get out of here?”
His request makes your heart thump in your chest, and you shift your hips in your seat before asking, “Where to?”
“My place?” Quickly adding, “We could talk some more or..." leaning close to your ear, his voice dropping lower with desire. “I could show you how much I want you, princess.”
Deep down, you’ve always loved the sound of his voice, and this new seductive tone causes a shiver to go up your spine despite the heat that is spreading through your body. Almost before you realize you're doing it, you’re slipping off the barstool, hoping your legs won’t shake.
Steadying yourself with a light hand on his chest and smiling up at him, you take a breath and say, “Alright, we can go... talk.”
Your reply earns you a rare, dimpled grin from him. He helps you slip on your jacket before firmly grasping your hand to begin leading you through the crowd to the exit. On your way out, you pass a grinning Aegon, but Aemond only glances at his brother, not bothering to stop.
Once outside, in the chill night air, he puts his arm around you as you walk through the parking lot. “You’re just going to ditch Aegon?” You ask with a chuckle.
“He knows what I’m up to,” he replies with a smirk. Laughing at your expression. “Aegon would get your boyfriend to play those stupid games at his parties so I could have some time with you.”
Reaching his car, he pulls you into a slow, deep kiss, holding you close to him with his large hands on your hips. Soon you’re fisting at the soft, expensive fabric of his shirt because it feels so fucking good kissing him, feeling him press his hard body against yours. You let his tongue tease its way past your lips to dance with yours as his fingers dig into your skin before he reluctantly pulls back to open the car door for you.
During the drive to his place, you text your friends, reassuring them that you are with Aemond and that everything is fine.
Curious about something, “So when Helaena would suggest a girls movie night, but we would end up at your place, you put her up to that?”
“I did not; she volunteered to do that.”
“My friend sets me up so her brother can walk around like a slut in sweatpants and a messy man bun. Wow, you Targs are something else,” you laughingly tease.
“I was desperate, pretty girl." His blush was visible even in the dim light of the car. “But you noticed,” he chuckles.
Aemond’s apartment is in one of the pricier buildings in the city, but you know his family has money. You’ve been here before, hanging out with the siblings for movie nights. Before you can even toe off your heels by the door, he pulls you to him with one arm around your waist, burying his face in your neck, nipping at your skin, then soothing the little bites with his tongue, making you moan softly.
“Wanted you so bad for so long,” he murmurs between little wet kisses over your throat.
Playfully, you tease him while tugging on his long braid. “Have you been thinking dirty thoughts about me all this time?”
“Fucking filthy thoughts,” as he crushes his lips against yours in a demanding kiss that takes your breath away. You both work to shrug your jacket off, letting it fall to the floor. You can feel the wetness forming between your legs as his long fingers caress the bare skin of your waist.
Pulling his shirt up, your hands explore the lean muscles of his flawless skin. When you bite at his lip, he groans into your mouth and grinds his hardening cock against you.
Trailing his lips down your neck, “Tell me you want me. I need to hear it," he pleads.
“I want you, Aemond; I want you to fuck me,” you moan breathlessly.
With your words, the last shred of restraint either of you had disappeared. By the time the two of you reach his bedroom, both of you are half naked, leaving a trail of clothing and shoes along your path.
“Fucking gorgeous tits,” he mumbles against your hardend nipple before taking it into his hot mouth again, sucking eagerly. Your other breast is being cupped in his strong hand, his fingers teasing the delicate peak. “Perfect tits all for me,” he hums as he switches to begin lavishing the other with attention.
His loose braid is long undone, and your fingers are tangled in his silky, soft hair. You can’t resist the urge to bait him a little. “You think just ‘cause you lick it, it's yours?”
His eye immediately shoots up to your face, and you feel a rough hum against your skin. Backing you up until your legs bump into his bed, he playfully pushes you down on the mattress.
“Aemond?” You squeak as you see the evil gleam in his eye. Kneeling on the floor, he pulls your legs to the edge of the bed and presses his face between them, rubbing his nose over your covered clit and inhaling deeply.
Resting on your elbows, you watch him tug down your panties, leaving you naked. He pushes your thighs wide with his large hands, and you see him shamelessly stare at your soaking wet pussy. “Who made you this wet, princess?"
You let out a gasp as he flattens his tongue and licks the length of your slit, never taking his eye off you. “Mine now,” he says with that familiar smirk of his.
Giving him your best, not impressed look, “It’s gonna take more than that, Targaryen.” you reply sassily. You watch him stick out his long tongue and start flicking your clit, before placing his lips over your little bundle of nerves, alternating between sucking gently and swirling his tongue over it.
Before long, you fall back on the bed, closing your eyes and giving yourself over to the wonderful sensations his mouth creates. His lips and tongue move through your folds, teasing your entrance, before returning to your swollen bud. Every little whimper or sob he pulls from you seems to spur him on. Compared to your ex, Aemond is the pussy eating champ.
Finding a rhythm that has you moaning “Fuck, you’re good at this.” He swells with pride, determined to make you a quivering mess. He relentlessly applies just the right amount of pressure on the right spots again and again. Your world is nothing but sloppy, wet sounds coming from between your legs and the orgasm building deep inside you.
When you reach down to tangle your fingers in his hair, your nails rake his scalp, causing him to moan into your pussy. "Mmm, baby, I’m close..don’t stop,” as you start to grind your hips against his mouth. Before you know it, waves of ecstasy that have your toes curling are crashing through you,leaving you shaking and breathless.
Aemond stares at your quivering pussy, watching more wetness leak from you. “You never answered my question. “Who makes you this wet? Hmm?” 
Still blissed out from your orgasm, you gasp as he slides a long finger inside you. “You do, only you,” you whimper.
“That’s my pretty princess,” he coos as he adds a second finger, slowly dragging them in and out of you. “You gonna let me fuck this pretty pussy?”
‘Mmm yes,” While he rises from the floor, you move to the center of the bed, stretching contentedly and giving your legs a rest. You enjoy the sight of his erection straining against his boxers while he opens a drawer in his nightstand and pulls out a condom packet.
“Aemond, we can skip that if you want. I already got tested after the breakup; all good.
“I’m good too, promise," he says as he drops the condom back in the drawer. Lowering his boxers, he frees his hard cock. You wet your lips with the tip of your tongue at his perfect size while you watch him lazily stroke himself. Just looking at him makes your pussy clench; he’s the perfect blend of beauty and masculinity.
“Do you realize how fucking gorgeous you are?” You wonder aloud, your voice smokey with your arousal, taking in the glorious details of the sight before you. From his tousled hair falling past his shoulders to his defined, lean muscles and slim hips, you think he is a work of art.
His pale skin, already flush with his own desire, colors even more down to the tip of his beautiful, long shaft. Joining you on the bed, positioning himself so he is looming over the length of your body, he lowers down to kiss you, his hair falling in a silvery curtain around your head. You can taste yourself as he plunges his tongue past your teeth, deliciously invading your mouth.
Wrapping your arms around his waist and your hands on his back, you pull him closer, wanting to feel his weight on top of you. The soft hairs on his chest and legs tickle your sensitive skin, while his cock is hot and hard against you. You part your thighs wider to let him settle between them, curling a leg around his hip.
“You ready for my cock, pretty princess?” His voice is rough with his need to be inside you when he starts moving his length between your sensitive folds, coating himself with your slick wetness.
Nodding desperately, “Mmm, yes,” you murmur, ready to start writhing beneath him.
Finding your entrance, the head of his cock slowly pushes into you, making him hiss, and he doesn't stop until he can’t go any deeper. “Fuck, you're tight around me.” Slowly, he withdraws halfway before sliding back in and holding himself steady. Giving you a cocky grin, “I think you’re used to something smaller being in you.”
You know it’s true. You’ve never felt this full before, so wonderfully stretched. Your eyes go wider, and a moan escapes you when he gives a more forceful, deep thrust into you.
“Hmm, I’m right,” he smirks knowingly. His muscles flexing with each snap of his hips.
Sensing that he eats up praise the way he eats pussy, you’re happy to give him what he wants. “Fuck, you’re big; it feels so good.” Each time his cock hits that sweet spot inside you, a little jolt of exquisite pleasure goes through you, and you grip his hips harder, raking your nails along his skin.
“So beautiful.” He’s captivated by the sight of your tits bouncing as he pounds into you. “Taking all of me so well, princess.” He coos as he hooks an arm under your knee, the new angle causing more friction against your patch of nerves as he somehow picks up his pace.
“Close, so close,” you whimper. It’s not long before the tightened coil suddenly snaps, making you cum hard with an earth-shattering orgasm that leaves your body shaking.
Your pussy clenching around him starts to send him over his own edge. His balls tightening as he keeps fucking you through your climax. His release leaves him grunting and shuddering as his cock twitches and spurts hot cum deep inside you.
Both of you are left reeling as Aemond rolls off and flops on his side next to you. He gently gathers you into his arms, pulling you close and burying his face in your hair.
You can hear his soft hum of satisfaction, and you can feel his heartbeat against your hand on his chest as you lie in his arms, both of you trying to catch your breath.
“You good, princess?” He asks and gives you a soft kiss on your forehead with your contented sigh of "yes." Soon you both force yourselves from the too-comfortable bed to clean up. When you come out of the bathroom, Aemond gives you a soft, well-worn t-shirt to put on while he is already wearing gray sweatpants that hang low on his hips, no shirt, and his hair is up in a messy bun, earring a muttered, ”Slut,” from you.
“How come I call you princess, and apparently my nickname is 'Slut'? he teasingly asks.
“Awww, would you rather I call you ‘Prince Aemond'? You come back with mock sarcasm.
Grinning, “Prince Aemond, I like that.” Laughing when you roll your eyes at him, he heads to the kitchen for water and snacks for both of you.
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wileys-russo · 2 days
Note
Mary earps in the date to remember series “I’m beginning to question whether you only married me for my ass” idk about location, maybe home or out shopping?
part of the a date to remember series gentle pat II m.earps
"okay! shopping bag, keys, list, phone, backpack leash, snacks for bribery. are we ready? i think we're ready." your wife clapped from the front door as you gave her a look.
"mary." you deadpanned, raising an eyebrow as she looked on uselessly. "forgetting something?" you egged her on as again she seemed dumfounded, going through her checklist and shrugging.
"me!" delilah came barreling through from the bathroom as your wife blushed slightly and you shook your head.
"from putting yourself to bed instead of her, eating half her dinner before she even got home from dance last night and now nearly locking her in the house alone...better pick your game up earps." you squeezed your wifes shoulder, snatching the keys from her hand, grabbing the shopping bags from the floor and walking out the front door.
"yeah mama, pick your game up!" delilah grinned cheekily as mary scoffed, easily scooping the four year old up and tossing her over her shoulder. "pick my game up! righto cheeky i've had about enough of this little parrot routine aunty tooney taught you." mary rolled her eyes, delilah for the last week finding endless amusement in doing and saying whatever she did on a dare from ella.
you of course also found it hilarious given it wasn't you that was being copied, not even lifting a finger to try and help put a stop to it.
"i'm not a parrot!" delilah huffed banging her fists against marys back who stepped out and locked up the front door. "are too, gonna change your name from delilah to...feathers? or maybe chirpy? squawk?" mary pondered as you watched on from the passenger seat with a smile.
"no! not allowed to do that mama." you heard your daughter scowl, turning around with a grin and tickling her stomach as mary buckled her into her car seat and delilah giggled kicking away your hand.
"good news babe i've decided we're changing her name. we've got options; feathers, chirpy, squawk?" mary pondered sliding into her seat and starting up the car as you hummed and delilah continued to protest from the back.
"oh! could call her tweety? or maybe birdie?" you joined in as mary backed out of the driveway with a grin. "no! delilah delilah delilah delilah delilah!" the four year old chanted over and over.
"okay okay! you can keep the name delilah...for now." mary teased as delilah huffed and pulled a face. "lilah we've talked about this. if you make an ugly face and the wind changes you're stuck like that forever." you warned as she quickly slapped a smile on and started to wiggle around happily as you flicked on her favorite playlist.
~
"don't wanna wear it! please mummy?" your daughter looked to you with the puppy dog eyes that normally broke both you and your wife but today all it earned her was a shake of your head as mary helped her slip on the backpack.
"sorry babe, you lost that privilege the last time we went shopping and you ran off. remember mama and i had to come and get you from the big security man? and we were very very worried." you clicked together the straps so it sat securely on her as mary grabbed the leash part.
"sorry." delilah mumbled kicking a rock, though spotting a pigeon land a few metres away she sprinted off as mary was almost taken down to her feet at the sudden tension on the leash and you covered your mouth to cover your laughter.
grabbing the shopping bags you winced seeing your wifes training bag shoved in the back, the girl currently in mid season break you knew it would have sat there for awhile.
"urgh mary!" you groaned, pointing it out as she near dragged delilah back toward you, smiling guiltily and kissing your cheek, promising to do the washing the very moment you got home as you hummed.
"hey! my turn." delilah stomped her foot, tapping her cheek expectantly and making you laugh as your wife rolled her eyes playfully but ducked down to kiss all over your daughters face making her squeal.
"alright. off we go!" mary nodded as you closed the boot and locked the car, gently tapping you on the ass as you passed her causing you to glare at her over your shoulder and delilah to giggle as mary only winked.
"you're in trouble." delilah warned wagging her finger at your wife as you took off ahead of the pair of them. "you're in trouble." mary parroted shoving her head to the side as delilah tried to tackle her and mary dodged out of the way with a grin.
turning around to see them left behind and chasing one another about you rolled your eyes and cleared your throat loudly, raising an eyebrow with one hand on a shopping cart as mary scooped up your daughter and hurried over to catch up.
"divide and conquer." you ripped the list in two and handed her half as you entered the supermarket, marys grip on delilahs leash tightening as delilah held up her hand expectantly.
"where's mine!" she frowned when she wasn't handed a list making you smile. "you get the most important job tiny." you warned as her eyes lit up and she nodded. "babysitting mama and making sure she doesn't get distracted." you whispered as delilah nodded, hugging your leg.
"go mama! hurry." the four year old barked, tugging on your wifes jumper where she was stood reading the nutrition information on the back of tub of protein.
"yeah mama, hurry." you teased, giving her a wink as you took the cart and headed off to start your own shopping, though not before a hand collided with your ass.
"mary! for god sakes we're in public." you hissed in warning as your cheeks burned red and she only grinned and headed off in the opposite direction with delilah ordering her around as she went, hitting her every time she deemed her as distracted.
you met back up every now and then, trading delilah or the shopping cart as you went, your daughter for once incredibly well behaved which earned her a few extra treats tossed in when mary thought you weren't looking which made you roll your eyes with a smile.
you were staring at the freezer section trying to find the specific brand of dinosaur chicken nuggets you knew were delilahs favorite and also the easiest way to get her to eat vegetables if mary smothered it all with gravy.
but a sharp slap to your ass had your body whipping around with a glare however the face you were met with wasn't the one you expected.
"deliah!" you exclaimed in shock as mary stood behind her with somewhat of a proud smile, your daughter grinning cheekily up at you. "mama does it." your daughter shrugged as if that was excuse enough, racing over to the freezer and pressing her face against it in wonder.
"you're a terrible influence." you glared at your wife who was tugged closer as delilah moved toward the ice cream section, pulled back a little by marys grip on the leash.
"me? my love i simply don't know what you mean." she winked, reaching around to squeeze one cheek in her hand as you smacked her chest and pushed her away.
"i'm beginning to question whether you only married me for my ass." you sighed with a shake of your head, grabbing the leash as your daughter continued to pull and struggle, determined to reach the ice cream section despite barely moving an inch.
"of course not darling i married you for your mind, your wit, your passion...and your ass."
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hbyrde36 · 17 hours
Text
STWG Daily Prompt 04/28/24
as chosen by our own @penny00dreadful
Fairytale✨
He was never going to find her.
Steve sighed heavily, letting his lunch tray drop to the table as he plopped down into his seat next to Nancy and Jonathan, the spot he’d been occupying ever since he’d had some sense knocked into him and dumped Tommy and Carol as friends for good. 
He’d gotten a lot of funny looks for that move, not only because he’d nuked his popularity along with his friendships, but because Nancy had dumped him for Jonathan, or so the rumor mill said, and yet here he was beside them. The truth was that their uncoupling had been a mutual decision, they just didn’t care enough to correct the narrative. 
But, back to Steve’s lament. 
It’d been almost a week since he saw her, the mystery girl that he’d spent almost the entire Halloween Ball with. They hadn’t spoken at all, the music had been too loud for that, but they’d stuck close to each other all night, danced, shared a few laughs as they pointed out their classmates' costumes–both good and bad– and shared a brief, but earth shattering kiss in a dark corner of the gym.
Now normally, Steve wouldn’t have been caught dead at one of the school’s dances, but his high school career was rapidly coming to a close, and honestly he was just trying to get himself out there, make some better memories before he was forced to grow up and enter the adult world.
Also… Nancy and Jonathan had made him.
Then they’d ditched him to go make out in the darkroom, but that was fine, It’d all been worth it to meet—her.
Steve only stepped away for a moment to get them a couple drinks, but when he returned to their spot by the bleachers, she was gone, the only evidence that she’d ever been there at all was a ring left behind on the floor. He picked it up, remembering how she’d fiddled with them a lot, her many rings, and must have dropped this one without realizing. 
He pocketed it, knowing it would be the key to finding her again.
Because, and this was his dilemma, on top of not knowing his mystery girl’s name, he also had no idea what she really looked like. While his Indiana Jones costume had left no question as to his own identity, she’d been dressed as a mummy, wrapped up in layers of gauzy fabric, only showing off her long dark curly hair, the biggest most gorgeous brown eyes he’d ever seen, and perfect pink pouty lips.
After spending the last several days combing the school, asking every brunette he came across if the ring was hers—to no avail—Steve had all but given up, assuming the girl had been someone’s friend or cousin visiting from out of town.
“What’s all this?” Steve asked, finally noticing the stack of photos Jonathan had spread out on the table around them. 
Jonathan took a bite of his sandwich, answering with his mouth still half full. “group shots of all the clubs for the yearbook, I just got them developed.”
Steve pushed his own lunch away, not hungry, and pulled a few of the pictures closer to him. He wasn’t really looking, looking, there wouldn’t be anyone in those pictures he hadn’t already seem roaming the halls, or so he thought. Then he spotted a familiar piece of jewelry on the finger of someone entirely unexpected. 
Eddie Munson, head of the Hellfire Club. 
He reached into his pocket and pulled the ring out, keeping it hidden under the table as he looked between it and the one in the photo. Same band, same stone, same black nail polish on the hand’s fingers too.
Dark curly hair, check. 
Big beautiful brown eyes, check. 
Soft pouty pink lips, double check.
Okay, so, the mystery girl wasn’t a girl at all. It explained why he’d had so much trouble finding her at least.
Steve sat with that fact throughout the rest of the lunch period, and by the time the bell rang had decided that it didn’t change a thing. He wasn’t freaked out that he’d kissed a boy, he didn’t even care that it was Munson, certified freak and D&D nerd. He was a little embarrassed that he’d assumed his special someone was a girl just because he had long hair and pretty eyes, but moving past that—
Now Steve just had to woo his man.
“Hey, Munson?” Steve called out as he jogged down the hallway, approaching the other boy from behind just as he was closing his locker. 
Eddie startled, his eyes going wide as he turned to see who had snuck up on him, but recovered quickly.
“Steeeeeeeve Harrington, what can I do for his former-royal-highness?”
Steve stepped in close, glancing around to make sure no one was watching them before he took Eddie’s hand, gently turning it over, and placed the ring in the center of his palm.  
“I think you dropped this.”
Permanent taglist (open): @penny00dreadful @pearynice @hitlikehammers
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milf-murdock · 18 hours
Note
Hi!! I love love love your writing! Especially your 141!Reader series <3 I don't know if you take requests, but your last post about Simon and baby Joseph made me so angsty and I would love to read more angst from you. Could you please write about Simon thinking 141!Reader was KIA on a mission? Thank you!!!
Anon....who....who hurt you???? I’m kidding 😆 mostly 👀 But for real, this one HURT. Like. OUCH. This man has been through so fucking much…but let’s put him through a bit more 😈😈😈 also, I did very much hurt my own feelings with this one. So I’m thinking we might need a part two reunion because I don’t know if I can leave our Ghosty boy in shambles like this
Drip. Drip. Drip. 
The rain patters against the window in a steady rhythm.
Simon watches the fat raindrops roll down the small window pane, one foot anxiously tapping against the concrete floor. He didn’t know why he was called to Price’s office, but there was an ominous charge to the air. Call it a premonition, or maybe an instinct, but he knew in his bones that something was wrong. 
The click of the door handle pulls Simon from his thoughts as Price enters the office, a heavy silence filling the air. 
“What’s happened?” Simon's voice has a hard edge to it, cutting straight through the bullshit. Watchful eyes appraise every detail of Price’s body language, and Simon notes the deep sunken look of his captain’s eyes accentuated by a somber expression. 
Price avoids Simon's gaze, staring down at the oak desktop before him as he takes a seat. The captain wasn’t one to mince words or beat around the bush, but even he was having a hard time wrapping his mind around the situation despite his many years in the service.  
Simon's heart hammers in his chest, every second in the unknown feeling like an eternity. This isn’t right, he thinks to himself. 
Price steels himself with a deep inhale, pulling his gaze from the desk to face Simon head on, looking past the mask, speaking to the man he knew laid beneath. 
“I wanted you to hear this from me, son. You…deserve to hear this from me.” 
Simon stops breathing. 
With practiced determination, Price continues his speech, having rehearsed the words in his head the entire walk down to his office. 
“Reconnaissance mission, Operation Blackout, suffered multiple casualties after a long-range detonation by enemy action. There’s been no contact with the team, and rescue attempts were unsuccessful due to the extensive damage caused by the explosion. All team members are presumed KIA. The official course of action…”
The rest of Price’s speech is drowned out by the dull roar in Simon’s ears; his blood runs cold, his rigid body barely breathing. 
This can’t be happening. Not again. Never again. 
Simon's thoughts grip him by the heart, squeezing painfully. 
I can’t do this again.
He had already lost everyone once. Had built impenetrable walls, designed to protect him from this type of pain. 
But you. You and your goddamn charm, and your soft smiles, and your relentless fucking attitude. You broke down those walls brick by brick, made Ghost–no, made Simon– feel more like a man than he had in years. You slipped past his ironclad defenses and took his heart without him even realizing it. 
And just when he had finally opened up, just when he had finally convinced himself that maybe he could be happy–that you could be happy together. It all came crashing down. 
In the distance, Ghost could hear shouting. A chorus of denials piercing the air, heavy ragged breaths filling the silence between. 
A heavy hand fell on Ghost's shoulder and he found himself back in his body, looking up at Price, voice raw. 
With a stark realization, Ghost realizes it was him. He was the one shouting, the one gasping for breath. 
The world tilted out from under him. 
____________ 
Ghost left Price’s office a different man–a mere shell of the man who entered. With every step he took, he felt himself slipping further and further into the familiar safety of Ghost, an unpierceable facade moving through the world. 
Everything felt wrong. Every step. Every breath. He felt like he was moving underwater, every action taking twice the effort it should. 
The next few hours pass in a blur. The official order that he was being sent on leave. The ensuing argument with Price over the orders. He eventually just gave up. Leave, no leave, it didn’t fucking matter. 
None of it fucking matters. 
Johnny tries to see him before he leaves, meeting Simon on the tarmac. He tries to be there for his lieutenant, his friend. 
The red rim around Johnny’s eyes reminds Simon that he wasn’t the only one who had lost you. They had all lost you. But even that which should have been a comfort, a sort of kinship in the grief, meant nothing. Simon didn’t give a singular fuck. He turned away from Johnny mid-speech, leaving the Scotsman to sit in his grief alone as he watched Ghost disappear into the aircraft. 
____________ 
It takes every ounce of strength Ghost has to make it through the flight. To make it through the drive back home. To make it through that door. 
Keep it together, soldier. Don’t you dare fucking lose it, Simon Riley. Just a bit longer. 
His belongings crash to the floor as the door slams shut behind him. He doesn’t even bother turning on the light, instead using the faint glow of the moonlight through the curtains to guide him to the cabinet. 
Ghost pulls the bottle of bourbon from its resting spot, not even bothering with a glass as he pulls off the corked top and takes a hearty swig. 
The burn of the liquid is invigorating, filling Ghost with a quiet simmering fire. 
He takes another drink. And another. 
He walks through the flat in a daze, the amber liquid dulling his senses, sending him even deeper into the haze of his grief. 
Ghost finds himself in front of his dresser, staring at the wooden drawers. 
Taking another drink, he steels himself as he yanks open the top drawer. Rummaging beneath the pile of socks and t-shirts, Ghost digs out the small velvet box. He grips it tight in his hand, the small object groaning in protest as waves of rage and pain overtake Ghost, threatening to pull him under. Hot tears slide down his face, but he doesn’t even notice. 
With a roar he throws the velvet box across the room, the impact fracturing the drywall. Ghost’s knees go out from under him and he crashes to the floor, his heart shattering into a thousand pieces. There would be no repairing this. No amount of time could heal this type of heartbreak. 
You were dead. 
And as far as Ghost was concerned, Simon Riley died with you. 
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ladykailitha · 1 day
Text
Paper Hearts Part 1
Remember how my posting schedule was going to be based on strictly vibes from now on? Yeah this is why. I have three chapters of this completed and only two of most everything else because I hurt my right wrist on Wednesday evening (I think I overextended my elbow and it fucked up the tendons in my wrist, because I've done that before on my arm and it feels like that).
So instead of getting more work done on stuff that is literally paragraphs away from the end of the chapter I'm having to tap into my backlog. Which is what it's for. But it is annoying.
I am also aware it's nearly May, but my muse was never one for sense.
Summary: Hawkins High is selling paper hearts to help raise for senior prom. $3 for red romantic hearts and $1 for pink friendship hearts. Steve hasn't dated anyone since the horrific breakup with Nancy on Halloween and so he decides that he's going to send pink hearts to senior girls who wouldn't normally get any hearts at all. When Eddie hears about this he can't help be intrigued. It goes against his very well curated Munson Doctrine. But as events keep throwing them together, Eddie learns there is more to King Steve then meets the eye.
Also a note: the use of the other's last name when it's their point of view is deliberate. As they get to know each other more, the more first names get used.
****
Steve was staring at the huge sign with a sense of dread. In big pink and white letters on a red background screamed the words:
PAPER HEARTS FOR YOUR VALENTINE $1 FOR PINK FRIENDSHIP HEARTS $3 FOR RED ROMANTIC HEARTS ALL PROCEEDS GO TO CLASS OF 1985 SENIOR BALL
Valentine’s Day. That time of year for lovers and romantics. That used to be him. But not since Nancy broke his heart by breaking up with him for Jonathan Byers.
There would be no paper hearts in locker this year. Not even pink ones. Nancy had well and truly blown up his life and she got to walk away scott free.
He didn’t know what to do anymore. He pinched his nosed and rubbed the end. He wasn’t going to cry in the middle of the fucking main hall of Hawkins High.
Just before he was about to start moving again someone shoulder checked him, sending back to the floor and all his stuff sprawling around it like some fucked flower.
“Watch it, Harrington!” the voice growled as whoever it was sped off down the hall.
Steve didn’t even bother looking to see who it was. It could have been anyone these days. His former friends. Billy and his ilk. Hell, even the nerds and geeks got in on the action lately.
He knelt down to start cleaning it up when someone else kicked his books toward the lockers. He managed to get most of it picked up when he reached for the last notebook. Someone stepped on his hand and ground down, hurting Steve and ripping the cover off the notebook, crinkling the first couple of pages.
He shoved it into his bag and cradled his hand to his chest. He looked at his watch and sighed. Lunch was nearly over and he hadn’t even made it to the cafeteria yet.
There was nothing for it, he had to get to his next class. He walked into the class room just as the bell rang, but instead of heading for his usual spot near the front he made for the back of the class. There were always a few empty seats around Munson. The guy was terrifying on a good day.
And Steve hoped it was a good day.
****
Eddie made to class on time by the skin of his teeth. He slid through door just as the bell rang above his head. He was about to lope over to his usual spot in the back when he stopped dead in his tracks.
He looked up at the front at the deliberately left open seat and back at the seat next to his with a raised eyebrow. He wisely said nothing as he flopped into the torture device known as the chesk. Dair? Whatever the hell it was called where some unspeakable horror thought to combine a desk and a chair.
Eddie glanced sidelong at his new companion. The recently deposed king of Hawkins High sat slumped in his chesk, head down, just staring at its surface as if held the meaning to life the universe and everything.
Which if Harrington asked him, he would have been told forty-two.
He pulled out his notebook and noticed that Harrington did not do the same. Curiouser and curiouser. He pulled out a pencil and settled in to avoid falling to sleep today.
He was taking notes and doing the assignment like he was supposed to when about half way through class the teacher called out to him.
“Mr. Harrington!” she shrieked. “If you are going to be sitting in the back, please have the decency to pay attention in class!”
A couple of kids snickered.
“You were talking about how the Fool is used to lighten the absolutely horrific scene above him of Lady Macbeth as she tries to get blood out of her gown,” he muttered, scratching his cheek with his left hand.
That was when the teacher and Eddie noticed the same thing at the same time.
Harrington was cradling his right hand to his chest.
“Mr. Harrington is there something wrong with your right hand?”
“I accidentally hurt it during lunch,” he said with wince.
The teacher tapped her foot and crossed her arms. “And why didn’t you see the nurse?”
“It happened right before class,” Harrington muttered, “and I didn’t want to be late.”
The teacher huffed and shook her head. “I will give you note for your next teacher, but you will see the nurse after class, am I understood?”
He nodded.
“Mr. Munson,” she cried out, shrill. “If you’ll share your notes with Mr. Harrington after class so he does not fall behind.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
He continued to keep an eye on Harrington throughout the whole class but whenever their English teacher tried to catch him out, she would fail every time.
When the bell rang Eddie started shoving his stuff into his backpack. “You sure you even need my notes, Harrington? That was pretty impressive shit you pulled out of your ass today.”
Harrington just shrugged. “Just because I was paying attention doesn’t mean it won’t bleed out of my ears with all the algebra and chemistry stuff I have later.”
Eddie winced in sympathy. “Yeah, I hear that. What’s your locker number and I’ll just slip a copy of my notes in the slots.”
“323B.”
“They got you on a lower locker?” he asked with a grimace. “That’s jacked up. Even Mr. Super Senior here got a top locker. Does the secretary hate you or some shit?”
Again Harrington shrugged. “I’ve got to go. I’ll catch you later.”
Eddie folded his arms at looked at him. “You’re not going to the nurse’s station, are you?”
This time it was Harrington who winced.
“That’s what I thought,” he huffed. “I’m walking you to said nurse’s station because it could be broken and if you don’t get that looked at, you’ll be in more than just a world of hurt, man. You could fuck up your hand for life and you wouldn’t be able to anything in that hand ever again.”
Steve’s eyes went wide as all color drained from his face.
“Shit.”
Eddie grabbed both of their backpacks and headed for the door. “Yeah, shit.”
Harrington hurried to catch up, hand still cradled to his chest.
“How did you know that could happen to my hand?” he asked softly.
Eddie eyed him sidelong, but the kid wasn’t being an ass. In fact he would say Harrington was being earnest.
“My uncle works at the machinist plant up the road,” Eddie explained. “One of his buddies broke his hand on the machine and refused to get it looked at. Guess how well that worked?”
“Was it the plant’s fault?” Harrington asked. Eddie cocked his head to the side. “That you uncle’s friend got hurt?”
Eddie reared his head back in shock that Harrington would even ask.
“No, man,” he said shaking his head. “He was goofing off, being a dick. Uncle Wayne always said that if you knock on every door asking for the devil, one day he’s gonna answer.”
“What happens when the devil comes looking for you?” Harrington muttered to himself and Eddie couldn’t help but wonder what this kid had seen.
Because he knows haunted. And Harrington looks like he has an attic full of ghosts.
Once they got to the nurse’s station Eddie waited for him. When the other boy came out he asked how it went.
“She says it doesn’t feel broken,” he huffed. “But that if it doesn’t improve over the weekend after icing at least three times a day, to come back on Monday and she’ll order an x-ray.”
Eddie nodded. “Right. See you around, Harrington.”
He had barely turned around when Harrington called out to him. “Wait!”
Eddie turned back around to have a piece of paper shoved into his hand. “I got the nurse to excuse us both.”
And before he could even reply the other boy was tearing off down the hall as if the devil himself was chasing him.
And after that comment he’d heard, Eddie couldn’t be sure he wasn’t.
****
Steve was curled up on his bed, icing his hand, staring up at the ceiling, and wondering where the fuck his life had gone so wrong.
Okay so he could answer that one, actually. Demogorgon ate his girlfriend’s best friend while in his backyard. While him and said girlfriend were having sex for the first time.
Yeah... that was all kinds of fucked up.
He still couldn’t believe that Nancy sided with Jonathan about him taking pictures of their first time.
So now Valentine’s Day was two week away and he was dateless, friendless, and unpopular. He wished he could just be called a loner. But a loner was cool and Steve wasn’t even that anymore.
He just had to make until the end of may and then he could graduate, leaving this town in his rearview mirror for good.
Steve knew that he would have to struggle through this fucking holiday and Senior prom then it would be smooth sailing from there.
He had all this money that he would normally spend on his girlfriends, but now he didn’t even have that. He supposed he could blow it all on beer and weed and then he could enjoy the weekend for a change.
Steve sat up suddenly, the ice pack falling from his hand to hit the floor with sploosh!
Now that was an idea.
He still had one thing in the school that was nonpareil and that was gossip. In fact, it was easier to hear all the dirty little secrets because no one cared if he was standing there.
A smile spread over his face.
That could actually work. It would be a great way to spend his allowance and it would be fun.
He got up and put the ice pack back in the freezer. He couldn’t do anything about it right then but once his hand was better he would formulate his little plan.
Steve was suddenly excited for the first time since he dropped Dustin off at the middle school’s Snow Ball.
He was going to make this holiday fun even if he had to manufacture the fun himself.
****
Eddie was pissed. A little at himself, but mostly at how Harrington was being treated.
He had to sit through lunch and listen a bunch of stupid jocks brag about stomping on Harrington’s hand when he was trying to pick up his stuff off the floor in the hallway yesterday.
They had been hoping for an actual break, but the asshole thought he’d only bruised it.
The reason Eddie was a little mad at himself for this was because he was the one that had shoulder checked Harrington. He had only been trying to get the guy out of his daze. Not send his shit flying.
And then to have someone deliberately stepping on his hand. Fuck. Not even Hagan ever went that far.
Stev–Harrington didn’t deserve that kind of bullying. No one did.
But he could see the twisted sort of appeal, though. And fuck if that didn’t make his stomach turn.
To see the deposed king and want to mock that? Want to dig the hurt in as deep as he could? To drive home the lesson that popularity was fleeting and that existence was a curse?
Yeah, Eddie could see the appeal.
But he wouldn’t. He might make fun of literally everyone and everything but his own interests, but to make turn that into actual cruelty? That was were he drew the line in the sand.
He went home feeling sick to his stomach. And of course Wayne picked up on it immediately.
He jutted his chin at the chicken and rice on Eddie plate that he had only merely pushed around with his fork.
“What’s got you so twisted around the bend?”
Eddie put his fork down and hid his mouth with his clasped hands, elbows on the table.
“I fucked up today,” he murmured. “I didn’t mean for it to go as it did.”
“What did you do?”
So Eddie told him. “I wasn’t trying to hurt him, but he got hurt anyway.”
“That does sound pretty bad,” Wayne agreed. “And as you say, you were trying to help only for it to go very awry. And since you didn’t about it until after the fact you couldn’t apologize and that’s what’s eating you up inside.”
Eddie nodded around his fists, his lower lip quivering.
“You’ll just have to find a way to apologize on Monday,” Wayne said wisely.
Eddie sighed. It was the best he could do. It wasn’t as though he could call the guy up or show up at his house. The first because he didn’t have the guy’s number and the second because he’d get the cops called on him so fast by the neighbors.
It would just have to wait until Monday.
****
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vibraniumavenger · 18 hours
Text
Collision
TW/CW: Car accident, injuries.
Pairing: Evan Buckley x Diaz!Reader
You smiled to yourself as you walked beside Christopher, your nephew. You had watched him in the morning while your brother was working, and Carla was attending an appointment. You didn’t mind though, you absolutely adored him, and he enjoyed spending time with you. 
You had an hour to kill before dropping him off to Carla, and heading off to work yourself, so you decided to swing by the station to have lunch with the team. It was quiet when you arrived, indicating the team were on a call. You took it upon yourself to make lunch for everybody, knowing it would be a relief to them when they got back. Chris was sat at the table on his tablet, in a world of his own, allowing you to focus on the food. You couldn’t help but smile to yourself as the sound of the shutters opening filled the station followed by heavy boots thudding against the floor as each firefighter jumped out of the truck. The footsteps got closer, the faint smell of smoke mixed with a familiar aftershave filled your nostrils and you instinctively lean back into the body that is now behind you as arms snake around your waist. “Isn’t this a nice surprise?” 
You turn towards the voice, and smile, “Apparently, I can’t seem to stay away.” You lean up to kiss Buck, causing Chris to pull a disgusted face. This seemed to amuse Buck, and he kissed you again. Eddie appeared in the kitchen, and made his way over to his son, visibly happy to see him. “Come on guys, get a room.” You rolled your eyes playfully at your brothers comment, and pulled away from Buck. 
You dished up the food for the team and took a seat, eager to hear about the call they had just been on. You listened intently as you ate, your complete focus on Buck as he spoke passionately about the call. Your heart warmed as you watched his face light up, he loved how much you genuinely enjoyed hearing about the calls, and how his day had gone. Chimney was the next to speak up, “It was a good call, except the part where Buck was playing hero and nearly got himself killed.” Bucks eyes widened and he turned to look at Chimney, giving him a look that immediately stopped him talking. Chimney, trying to help, began speaking again, “Don’t worry, it’s nothing out of the ordinary. It wasn’t any more dangerous than a simple call, the risk is always there. Besides, it was probably one of the safer times Buck tried to save the day, you should’ve seen him on the call last week.” 
“Chim, stop talking.” Buck, who was now visibly on the spot, turned to face you. He studied your face, working out how to approach this. He opened his mouth to reassure you, but you beat him to it, “I thought we spoke about this…” Buck knew you understood that no day was guaranteed, and that saving people on calls was something he would always try to do, even if it put him at risk. He also knew that he had a habit of jumping the gun and putting himself in dangerous situations without thinking it through. “I’m sorry…” 
You checked your watch, and stood up. “I just wish you’d be more careful, Buck.” Chris stood up and hugged Eddie goodbye, and you did the same. “Later bro.” You said goodbye to the team and walked back to the car with Chris by your side. The breeze hit you, and you took a deep breath. Maybe you were overreacting, maybe not but you just needed a moment. You helped Chris into the car and got in yourself, turning on the radio. The short ride to Carlas mostly consisted of Chris laughing as you sang along to the music, and the occasional conversation when Chris wasn’t overly engrossed in his phone. Carla was there to greet you when you pulled up on her drive, Chris was extremely excited and practically jumped out of the car to hug her. Carla gave you a hug, “Y/N, it’s so good to see you!” You smiled and hugged back, “It’s been a while, huh? Life has been hectic.” Carla laughs at this, “You’re telling me, your brother told me all about you and Buck. Moving in together? That’s a big step!” 
“We were practically living together anyway, and if I’m being honest, Eddie is probably just relieved to have his couch back. I was starting to get on his nerves.” You explained to Carla, and she chuckled. “Well, I wish you all the best. I’m gonna get Chris inside, and I’ll let you run off to work. It was lovely seeing you.” You hug Chris goodbye and bid farewell to Carla before getting into your car and beginning your journey to your place of work. In front of you, the amber light turned to red and you stopped. You could see that traffic was beginning to build up on the other side of the junction, and you didn’t want to be late. You sighed, and made the decision to take an alternate route, so when the light turned green, you indicated and pulled out to begin taking your turning. You let out a sudden gasp before you could even properly register the car coming towards you. All you could do was attempt to brace for the impact, and so you did. 
A loud crunching sound surrounded you, followed by the feeling of being thrown as your car was barrelled into. You closed your eyes tightly, scared of what was next. You didn’t have the courage to open them again until the car steadied. The first thing you could see was the airbag in front of you, despite not feeling it deploy moments before. You could smell the burning of the tyres, outside of the car, you could hear the panicked voices of bystanders, but all you could focus on was the blood that was now spread across your arms, unsure of where it was actually coming from. You weren’t in pain, at least you couldn’t feel any in that moment. Is that what shock feels like? You couldn’t think, but your eyes got heavy and you fought your hardest not to succumb to the darkness. 
Back at the station, the call was only just coming in. The alarm blared throughout the station, alerting the team to the call. They were quick to jump into action, grabbing their gear and piling themselves into their assigned trucks. Eddie and Buck sat beside each other, speaking casually between themselves about what had happened earlier. “Just give her some time, she’ll come around. For her, two of the people she loves most are at risk everyday, you’ve gotta imagine it can’t be easy. It’s a risky job as it is, and when you put yourself into riskier situations without needing to, it decreases the chance of making it home at the end. She’s scared. Just talk to her.” Eddie attempted to reassure Buck, who was feeling terrible. He couldn’t shake the image of your face from his mind, the face that showed disappointment in his actions. Before Buck could respond, the truck halted and the team jumped out, ready to give help where needed. Buck stopped in his tracks as an all too familiar car was crushed before him. He tried not to panic, hoping that his suspicions were wrong. His eyes flicked to the number plate and his heart stopped. His feet were moving before his mind could catch up. He shouted your name, drawing Eddies attention. It took Eddie a few seconds to process what was happening. You had not long left the station, it couldn’t possibly be you. Right?
Buck arrived to your car first, nausea washed over him as he caught sight of your injured body. “Y/N? Hey, it’s me. I’m here.” You weren’t completely aware of what was happening, your eyes opened with a struggle. Your movements were weak as you turned your head to look at him. “Buck?” You spoke quietly, not completely aware of the situation at hand. “Don’t move, try and keep still.” He tried to remain as calm as he could, he didn’t want to scare you any more, he was terrified himself. Eddie ran right over to the car, his heart racing as he feared what he would find. His first instinct was to check the back seat, relief finally washing over him as he saw no sign of Christopher. Still, he needed to make sure, “Y/N, was Chris in the car?” 
You shook your head, “Carlas.” Eddie felt a weight off his shoulders, knowing his son was safe. The weight soon came back when he saw the condition you were in. Your eyes rolled back, and you fell into unconsciousness. Bobby was running the scene, assigning Hen and Chim to medically assist you, and he grabbed the gear to support Buck and Eddie in freeing you from the car. Buck didn’t want to let go of your hand, but he knew he had to in order to get you out sooner. The team worked tirelessly, ensuring to be as careful as possible. Bobby handed the halligan to Buck, “Buck, you focus on getting the doors open. Diaz, grab the saw and be on standby.” 
Buck groaned as he tried to pry the doors open, with no results, “Roofs too dented Cap, I can’t get it open.” Bobby nodded, and turned to Eddie, “Saws it is. Get in there Diaz, Buck, you too.” The roof was off in no time, Hen and Chim jumped straight in and equipped you with a neck brace, and got the back board in place to move you. Hen checked your vitals quickly, trying to make sure you were steady enough to be moved. “I’ve got a faint pulse, we gotta move.” They moved you out of you car quickly, and transferred you to the ambulance. “Trauma to the abdomen, possible internal bleeding. I’ll let the hospital know we’re en route.” Buck jumps into the back of the ambulance with Chimney, and instantly takes your hand in his. Hen places herself into the drivers seat, putting the ambulance into 911 mode and begins the journey as fast as she can to the nearest hospital. 
Buck hated seeing you like this. He was filled with anxiety, the nausea constantly there as he studied your visible injuries. His heart sank with every second that went by, the more he thought about you laying there almost lifeless, expecting you to flatline any second now. “I’m sorry baby, we can’t leave things like this. I need you to get through this so I can apologise to you. I know I’m not the easiest person to love, and I also know that I’m the biggest pain in the ass, but I love you, and I need you. Please.” Buck sobbed as he held your hand tighter. Time seemed to be going extremely slow for Buck, yet moments later Hen was pulling up at the hospital. You were rushed in, Hen spewed all your information to the nurses as you were wheeled in and handed over. Buck, Hen and Chimney stood there as you were wheeled out of sight. One of the nurses stopped Buck from running after you, and he sat defeated in the waiting room. The rest of the team arrived soon after, Eddies face was similar to Bucks. Eddie spoke first, “Any update?” The lack of response from Buck had him on edge, fearing the worst. Luckily, Chimney filled the silence. “There’s no update, but no news it almost always good news.” 
Eddie placed his hand on Bucks shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze before sitting down next to him. “How’re you holding up?” Buck didn’t look up, instead he kept his head in his hands. He couldn’t respond, he couldn’t trust his voice not to give out. His leg bounced anxiously, and despite not talking, his feelings were painfully obvious. Eddie could empathise, he knew exactly what was going through Bucks mind. It was happening to him too, but he concealed it as much as he could, knowing Buck needed him. “You know, each time we’re sat in these chairs, it never gets easier. You don’t have to talk, I get it. I think you should know that I’m right here for you, I understand. Y/N is going to be okay, that I have no doubt about. She’s my sister, and us Diaz’s, we don’t back down. We fight.” Eddie continues talking, and he’s not sure whether he’s trying to convince Buck or himself. 
A few hours go by, and the team are waiting as patiently as they can for an update. Maddie had arrived some time ago, and was sat with Buck. She was not only there to support her brother, but also her brothers girlfriend, who Maddie had claimed as her best friend shortly after meeting her. Bobby hands a coffee to Buck and Eddie, who hadn’t moved from their seats since arriving. This changed moments later as a nurse approached, making them stand. Buck felt as if his legs were going to give way any second. The nurse cleared her throat, “She’s stable. She’s incredibly lucky to have made it out with the injuries she did, it could’ve been a lot worse. She’s awake, if you’d like to go see her.” 
Buck didn’t stick around to hear whatever else the nurse had to say, he darted through the corridor until he got to your room. He stopped to take a deep breath, and stepped inside. He was scared to look at you, all he could picture was you covered in blood still. His head shot up as he heard a voice, your voice to be exact, “Buck?” 
He was by your bedside in a blink of an eye, taking your hand in his. His eyes wandered over your body, taking in each of your injuries. His heart broke a little more with each one. He finally looked you in the eyes, and that’s when it hit him. His eyes filled up with tears, “Y/N…”
“Hey, don’t cry. I’m fine, see. I’m right here.” You gave his hand a squeeze, trying to give him the reassurance he needed. Buck took a seat close to your bed, your hand in his and against his lips. You move your hand up to his cheek and wipe his tears, Buck practically melted into your touch. “I really thought I had lost you.” 
“I’m right here, I’m not going anywhere. I need to apologise for my reaction earlier, that could’ve been our last conversation earlier and left without saying goodbye, or telling you how much I love you.” 
Buck shook his head, “You have nothing to apologise for, I’m the one that owes you an apology. I’m sorry that I’m not more careful when I’m out on a call, I shouldn’t be that reckless. I’m sorry that I can’t promise to walk through that door every night, safe and unscathed. I can appreciate how you feel now, and I promise I’ll try my hardest to be more careful. I love you, and I don’t want you ever feeling anything close to what I’ve felt today.” You wince as you sit up, making Buck panic. You push through the pain, and pull Buck to you. “Come here.” He stands from his chair and leans down to kiss you quickly. He carefully moves your hair from your face, ensuring he doesn’t touch any of your cuts or bruises. 
“I love you too, and even though I’m petrified that you won’t make it home one day, I trust that you’ll try everything in your power to make sure you do. I’m proud of you, Evan.” As you spoke, Buck smiled to himself. A sense of relief washed over him. Before he could respond, you continued. “So… does this mean I can finally get a new car now?” 
Buck chuckled, “You’re a pain in the ass, Diaz.” 
“Takes one to know one, Buck.”
A/N: So, I think I rewrote this like 10 times. Its been a while since I've done any writing, so please bare with me while I figure out my writing style again. Any criticism is welcome, I appreciate the feedback.
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upontherisers · 2 days
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in the cold spring
a/n: i'm in a writing mood recently! disclaimer: i haven't read mota or on a wing and a prayer yet so i do not know anything about jack kidd's life beside what is available on the 100th bomb group's website, so consider some details ~exaggerated for dramatic effect~. title is from ml burch's "i feel like giving you things" and this fic is about neither the cold or the spring, but it fits.
Goddamn Air Exec. 
Jack says goddamn Air Exec from the moment Bucky tells him that Hughlin recommended him, through two rounds of meetings with Harding—call me Chick—and Bowman—call me Red, through moving into the ops barracks, through shaking a thousand hands, and through getting a desk. Goddamn Air Exec. Goddamn Egan, goddamn Hughlin, and goddamn Air Exec.
His crew, his fort, and his dignity all because Bucky purposely flunked out of the tower. And Buck vouched for him! Goddamn Cleven and goddamn Air Exec. All of his training out the window for a desk in a corner office. He can’t even see the runway through the blinds, just the backroads of East Anglia and occasionally the Land Army girls and their cows. Five hundred hours of flight school for a desk in a corner office and a secretary.
“A secretary?” he asks as Harding points at a small station outside Jack’s newly-labeled office.
Chick nods. “Yes, Lieutenant Keene.” He looks around the busy floor, eventually settling on who he’s searching for. “There she is… Hazel!”
A head pops up from the mass of moving bodies and paper and a woman quickly makes her way across the room, weaving through the crowd with practiced ease. As she approaches, she’s smiling with a brightness that goes all the way to her warm, round brown eyes, hand outstretched for another yet another handshake. Goddamn Air Exec, but he’s less bitter about it.
“Jack, I assume you’ve met Lieutenant Keene—”
“Hazel, I insist.” Her grip is firm and as warm as her eyes.
They met the few times when he had to go to Bucky’s office—his office now—and she was waiting at her station outside. He remembers her as polite but busy, inoffensively curt. Not one of the staff who blathers away, overly chipper and overly interested in the reason for his visit, but also not one of the ones who snaps at him to sit and wait and then ignores him like he’s the reason they’re losing the war. Hazel’s friendly and effective, a good temperament for a C.O. He wonders why she’s in here and not up in the air.
“Good to see you again.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“Jack, I insist.”
Her smile widens just so, and he has a feeling that they’re going to work well together.
She turns to Chick and nods to where she came from. “Last of the after actions for the 418th—” Jack pretends that doesn't hurt to hear. He should’ve been up there with his boys. Goddamn Air Exec. “—I’ll have ‘em to Sheila in fifteen, and I’ll be at my desk after that, in case you need anythin’.”
It takes him a moment to realize she’s speaking to him, and he mumbles an ‘of course’ at his shoes. He’s a man who gets waited on now; it would take some time to get used to. She departs with another smile and heads back into the fray.
As Chick leads Jack around the rest of the space, showing him charts and maps and a million other semi-familiar faces, he remains acutely aware of Hazel. She’s speaking to a WAC as they go over some maps, marking here and there, her encouraging smile no doubt prompting stellar work from the younger girl. He’s reminded of Ev, the way his friend’s genial countenance can turn a boring day kicking around the hard stand into a respite and a rough flight home from a mission into a night at a comedy club.
Then he misses his friends—Ev, Dougie, Crosby and the man the navigator has become since getting kicked off of the Crash Wagon. He misses hearing DeMarco and Cleven bicker as they climb into their fort, that damn dog never far behind as Lemmons likes to sneak him out onto the hard stand. He misses the feeling of sitting in his seat and the controls roaring to life under his fingers as he hears his crew get ready at their guns. He misses looking out the window to see Ginny settling into her cockpit to his right, grinning like it’s Christmas morning and popping her gum into her headset receiver to set off Knick Knack at her navigator’s seat.
He even misses Bucky and his plane-to-plane chatter, always vigilant, always watching out for his squadron, his group, and the rest of the wing. He misses the man Bucky can be in the air as opposed to the faux-apologetic fast-talker that landed Jack at a desk in the first place. Goddamn Air Exec.
But then he comes back to Hazel and the scrunch of her nose as she stretches her arms above her head with a yawn. She slumps back onto the desk she’s sitting on, looking around the room curiously before meeting Jack’s eyes and nodding. He nods back before Chick drags him off to some new wonder.
She’s at her desk in fifteen minutes like she told him she would be and sticks her head into his office with a smile. She smiles a lot. “I’m back. Holler if you need anything.”
By the time he can look up from the file he’s puzzling over, she breezes back to her desk and immediately busies herself at her typewriter.
He doesn’t know what to do with her. The other C.O.’s have their secretaries do the standard—take memos, keep their schedules, make coffees—but that seems insulting. She’s here to win a war; he wasn’t going to send her scrambling for sugar. On the other hand, it’s insulting not to utilize her, as sharp and reliable as she is. His father would find her a task and a ring, which he had with his last three secretaries. Jack had no intention of using his rank like that. He’ll find something for Hazel to do. It just has to be the right thing.
And he searches for too long, it seems, because after three days of greeting her when he arrives in the morning and occasionally asking her where certain stationery was stored, she steps into his office post-lunch and plops down in the chair in front of his desk with a sigh. Her eyebrows raise and she wears a bemused smile as she folds her hands in her lap. She reminds him of Bucky for a moment.
“Was it something I said?”
He shakes his head. He’d been hoping she wouldn’t notice his lack of engagement, or perhaps would lean into not having much on her plate. “I’ve never had a secretary before.”
“Most men haven’t.” She leans forward and starts picking at a chip in the wood of his desk. “Your job is my job, too.”
“You seem busy enough.” She does. Every time he looks out into the hall, she’s up to something, whether it’s at her desk, in the filing cabinets along the walls behind her, or somewhere on the ops floor. She knows what she’s doing; he’s the one who’s lost.
Her mouth purses. “Not for long. I’ll be done with the backlog Bucky left by EOD.”
“I’m sorry he left so much—”
Her exaggerated eye roll surprises him. “That’s the point, Jack. It’s too much work for any one man.”
Goddamn Air Exec.
“But that’s why you got me. We’re a team… so,” she raps his desk twice, “put me in, Coach.”
He wants to say something, to have an important Air Exec order or some example for her to follow, but as he looks into her expectant face, he comes up short. He hasn’t eaten yet today, but he’d shoot himself in the foot before he ever made her go to the mess for him. She reads him like a book, which only further rankles his sense of command.
“Well, what’s all this?” She spreads her hands over the papers in front of her.
“Interrogation logs, new crew files—” He points at a pile Chick’s aide had delivered that morning. “I need to get those back to Harding as soon as I sign them.”
“Sign ‘em now and I’ll run ‘em over.”
“No.” This is exactly what he’s been avoiding, assigning her utter tedium. 
She pushes the papers toward him. “C’mon.”
He blinks at her before opening the file. It’s some report or inventory request, or both or neither, which he has no idea why he has to sign, but he’ll do it because that’s job along with waiting around and going to briefings and briefings about briefings. Not even a week in and he was ready to crawl out of his skin or at least out the window. Chick denied both his requests to fly so he’s truly stuck in this office for who knows how long. Goddamn Air Exec.
Two signatures, three, four, five—Hazel points to hidden dotted lines, flipping through the pages without a second glance, and Jack can’t help but feel like she’s tying his shoes. That probably flew with Bucky, but it wouldn’t with him. They gave him the promotion because they knew he could do the job well and he agreed. This is something he could be good at. A team of subordinates was a perk of the job, expected for a man of such a station, and he’s grateful that folks were will to help out, but he’d grown up watching secretaries turn from aides to mother-wives and he doesn’t want that for anyone, especially a gal as nice as Hazel. He’ll find something for her to do.
He signs the last page and closes the file as Hazel stands, hand outstretched. Pausing for a moment, he doesn’t pass it over quite yet. “I don’t want you being my errand girl.”
She reaches across the desk and plucks the file from him. “It’s my job.”
She turns on a graceful heel and heads out across the floor, making it to Harding’s office and back before he could find it in him to stop staring at her confident, unaffronted gait. Bright laughter—the brightest he’s ever heard—bubbles out of her as she tucks her skirt under her thighs and takes a seat at her desk.
“You could’ve signed three more reports in the time that took me. Now I’m gonna have to wait for you.” She tsked. “Wastin’ both our time.”
She’s tying his shoes again and that lights a fire under his ass for the rest of the day. He clears the files that had accumulated on his desk plus two rounds of parts inventory from the hard stand and he gets a memo off to London requesting more birds. He feels satisfied by the time he flicks off the light and gathers his jacket and coat. It sure wasn’t flying, but it felt like making a difference all the time. He didn’t know he could do that from behind a desk.
It takes some soul-searching, but he manages to light his own fire for the rest of the week. He maintains his composure through the worst of it, a long fog delay that had half his pilots climbing into the tower to beg him for clearance, a ‘misplaced’ delivery of Mae Wests that somehow ended up with the 418th before they came to ops, and another declined request to fly from Harding. Goddamn Air Exec. 
The job gets easier each day, especially with Hazel right outside the door. It does feel more like a team than subordination as they move around each other, trading reports and memos without having to speak. Still, she’s a few steps ahead of him—coming through the door before he can call her to pick up a file, finding this or that form before he can realize he’s misplaced it—but he’s determined to catch up. He comes in early on Saturday and has the summarized after action reports in Chick’s office before Hazel’s arrived for the day. It’s a good feeling when her eyes go wide in surprise and her cheery mouth finds its usual smile.
“Well, I suppose we’re even now.”
“No,” he shakes his head, “not even close.”
If they’re really going to be a team, he’s going to even the playing field. No more having her play governess. Neither of them are here to clean up after someone else.
That evening, Hazel is leaning into Chick’s doorway as Jack leaves for the day, chatting with Sheila. 
He mumbles a ‘pardon me’ as he passes and her face lifts at the sight of him. “Major Kidd! We were just talkin’ about you.”
“You were?” he asks as they fall into lockstep on their way out. 
“We were sayin’ how nice it is to have an Air Exec who knows what he’s doin’.”
“Bucky tried his best.” He’s lying.
She knows it and she snorts. “He was fun to have around, certainly.”
It’s quiet as they walk. The flights have stopped for the day and if he strains his ears he’d be able to hear the crews working away on the hard stand, but there’s no need for that now. That’s another thing he’s learning—when he’s doing the job and when he’s not. With the warm evening air and the blazing sunset in front of them, he’s grateful for the time off the clock.
He looks at Hazel and is struck by the sight. The light washes her dark cherrywood skin in a velvet glow, sending shadows of her lashes and her nose across her face. He’s suddenly jealous of Bucky and he doesn't know why. She catches his eye and smiles. Blanching, he clears his throat and stares at the ground. His boots are the cleanest they’ve been since he’s been in England now that he’s out of the grease and dust of the planes. Goddamn Air Exec.
They’re nearly at the ops barracks when he realizes that he doesn’t know where she’s going. Does she live in the barracks? Is she one of the girls who’s at a billet in town? Why doesn’t he know? Shouldn’t he know? She’s never in the mess and is so rarely at the Silver Wings. He wonders what she does with her time. He realizes he doesn’t know much about her at all, not her hometown, her family, where she was before the Air Force. The Oberlin pennant on the wall in his office had prompted her to ask into his life, but that’s because she’s always where he is, but he’s never where she is. He wants to be.
“Where’re you headed?”
She comes to a stop. “Home.”
“Where’s that?”
Her wry smile makes his heart skip a beat as she turns down the path leading toward the enlisted barracks. “Good evening, Major.” She never calls him that.
“Some of us’ll be at the pub tonight—Chick, Red, Bucky… it’d be good to see you.” He takes a half-step toward her so as not to yell the offer, maybe she’ll take it if he’s gentle. Part of him hopes she’ll say yes. He wants time with her outside of keeping the group on its feet, just an hour to hear her laugh, to ask her where she gets that charming accent from, to ask her for a dance. Part of him hopes she’ll give him one more good smile and walk away, that she’ll remind him there are rules, lines to be maintained. He’s not going to become his father.
“Good evening,” she repeats and he watches her go. He doesn’t have time to dwell on the ache in his chest as Cros yells at him from across the way. He’ll have his night and she’ll have hers.
He’s not sure if he should apologize for being out of turn when he sees her next, clear the air and make it clear that he’s not… he isn’t going to be that man. He reasons to himself that wants to know her as a teammate, in the same way he’d come to know the members of his crew. It’s what any good leader does. There’s a short speech ready to go when he enters HQ Monday morning after seeing the forts off.
She greets him as politely as she always has, but he gets the feeling he probably wouldn’t be able to tell if she’s upset. Her cards are meticulously close to her chest while she learns about the people around her. It’d be a good quality in a C.O. He thinks of all the women he’d just sent to Norway—Ginny, Vera, Amelie, Suzanne. Hazel would fit right in.
There’s a small box on his desk, no sender address upon investigation. “Hazel?”
“Yeah?” she asks as she gets up from her desk.
“Do you know who this is from?” He’s popping open one end with his letter opener.
“Oh, well,” she starts, folding her arms and leaning against the doorframe, “it’s from my momma” Her inflection is that of an embarrassed and entertained daughter. 
A swath of white silk flutters to the floor and he picks it up. It’s a scarf decorated with rows of small and large flowers. From… from her mother?
“I—I, uh, I wrote her about you and she insisted on sending it. Bucky got one, too, when he started.”
He couldn’t recall Bucky ever wearing a scarf. “What’d he do with it?”
She scoffs. “God knows. I don’t think he remembers getting it. It was one of his… one of his mornings.”
“Hungover?”
“Still drunk.”
Closing distance, she takes the scarf from him gently and tosses it around his shoulders. She’s so near now as she starts tying it and he can look at her while she concentrates, her eyes glittering with that hope that never seems to fade. Does her mother have the same eyes? The same round apples of her cheeks, the lovely point of her chin? And her perfume, the faint hint of roses he occasionally gets during the day now in full force as she works. He feels flush and he doesn’t know what to do with his hands or where to put his eyes or what to say. A woman who’d only heard about him in letters sent her daughter to war and is sending him beautiful scarves. That’s the kind of woman who would raise Hazel.
“I always tell her that this is unnecessary, that y’all have mommas of your own to fuss over ya,” she says as she adjusts the knot at his neck and smoothes her hands over his shoulders.
“I—I don’t,” he stammers out. 
Her eyes widen and he hates the kick in his chest. “Oh, I’m—I’m so sorry, Jack, I had no idea.”
He waves her off but can’t quite find the words. There’s a yearning suddenly, one he left in the dark years ago, and he doesn’t know what’ll come out if he tries to name it. Hazel puts a comforting hand on his arm and looks at him sympathetically. “Well, I’ll tell my momma to keep sending scarves… only if—if you wouldn’t mind.”
“I could use a few more of these,” he says, glancing down at the knot at his neck. He probably looks ridiculous wearing it without the rest of his flight gear, but the accomplished smile on Hazel’s face is worth it. He’ll bear all the stares in the world if it keeps her smiling. 
She gives him one more once over before returning to her desk. “It’s a good color on you.”
“Matches my eyes?”
“Something like that.” She winks. 
His stomach flips; he thinks of his father and three weddings. 
“Oh,” she calls, “you can keep it on.”
He raises an interested eyebrow.
“The Telergma mission, you’re going. Chick sent authorization this morning.”
Three days later, Ev’s the only one who comments on Jack’s new gear after they finally get the all-clear for engine start.
“That from Franny?” his co-pilot asks. It’s a good guess; his sister would send something like it. 
“Lieutenant Keene’s mother sent it.”
Ev scoffs with a shake of his head. “Your secretary’s mother is sending you scarves? Goddamn Air Exec.”
Yeah, Jack thinks, smirking out the window and sitting a little taller. Goddamn Air Exec.
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twstthing · 1 day
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[Bake Bread] 1/2
Minecraft Single Player! Yuu AU
Summary: Yuu baked(?) bread for Azul.
Yuu has insanely fast-growing wheat on their farm located at Ramshackle grounds. Azul has been so, so shifty about wanting to own the property, but he has continuously and fabulously failed at acquiring it.
But what kind of business man is Azul to give up on such an opportunity? Wheat can take up to 2/3rds of the year to grow, but the wheat this abnormal student plants takes approximately 1 and a half days to be completely grown! Not only that, it is beautifully, so beautifully consistent in its quality.
Yes, sure, there are PLENTY of magic agriculture brands that sell amazingly consistent produce, but this wheat? This wheat is terrifyingly accurate to the industry standard. Azul had to confirm to his two associates that no, he was in fact not tripping balls ("You are MALDING over overrated grass, Azul. You sound just like Jade.")
Just to confirm that he wasn't insane, he had gotten his hands on some legally obtained samples of the wheat (He politely asked for a bundle of wheat from Yuu with a contract where he promised to not commercialize nor generate defamation/slander associated with Yuurmom because of the wheat.) and had Jade take it to his Science Club to study it.
Even according to that Heartsyabul Clover, he was thoroughly impressed at the remarkably consistent quality of the wheat.
Trey had kindly indulged Jade's questions about the wheat, explaining one of the most business-booming, profit-generating, game-breaking facts about this produce
This wheat does not expire.
It doesn't expire? Are you kidding? No preservatives, no drying processes, no water rot, none? None at all?
As Clover explains, "Uhh, yeah. It doesn't go bad even when carried around for months. Yuu gifted me some, but I don't exactly know how to process wheat into flour, so it's been sitting in the pantry for some time now. I've been wanting to put it to use though, so this week I'll be meeting with Deuce, Epel, and Jack to help me process it."
So yeah, Azul is definitely NOT crazy for losing his mind over this farm that Yuu has going on. If he can have Yuu make a contract with him to exclusively sell their harvests to Mostro Lounge, he'd be booming! Fast crops, no preservatives, no need to watch for shelf life, do you even understand what kind of miracle crop this student has?!
When Azul comes knocking at Yuu's door once more, he is greeted with the expected presence of the Ramshackle Housewarden, but also a basket of... Flatly stacked pixelated bread?
"Why, Yuu, I wasn't aware you enjoy my company so much!"
"Come in. Bread, eat."
Azul is slightly surprised by the sudden hospitality, but accepts it to see if he can further his advances in getting his hands on those crops.
Upon being seated in the common room, Yuu takes one of the breads from the basket and begins to eat it in their really loud and strange way. Crumbs are flying everywhere, yet not one speck actually makes it onto the couch or floor. Azul wishes he could forget the way Yuu tried to eat the food at Mostro Lounge for the first time.
Jade sets the plate down, and gives a simple smile, "Please enjoy your food." Deuce and Ace usher various forms of a curt "Thanks." before digging in, but Yuu continues to stare at the plate in front of them. Ace raises an eyebrow, but before he got to make a snarky comment, Yuu grabs their Sirloin Steak with Mushroom Sauce and Stir-Fried Vegetables with their bare hand and proceeds to begin ripping at it.
Ripping is not a strong enough word to describe their eating process, Yuu's mouth was barely open yet there were steak shreds and mushroom sauce flying everywhere. The two little card soldiers were trying to fend themselves from the food splatter onslaught, Jade was collapsed to his knees trying to hold in his laughter, Floyd dropped the food he was supposed to serve in opt of releasing howling laughter, and Azul felt like crawling into a ditch.
.. Maybe this was a more prominent memory for Azul than he initially thought.
But! Azul has persisted through worse, really strange eating mannerisms do not compare to the Leech's impulsive personalities. Therefore, this is nothing.
"So, Housewarden, how do you fare? I can see that this place has recently been cleaned well, was that your doing?"
The sounds of disconcertingly loud bread munching fill the room for a solid 4 seconds. Yuu is staring straight at Azul, and Azul stares back. Azul dully notes that their pupils are square-shaped. He's aware of slit eyes and horizontally slit eyes, as evidenced by goat beastfolk, but he's unsure if a person with square pupils is simply born like that or had an extreme cosmetic surgery.
Yuu audibly gulps and burps after finishing their loaf, the bread vanishing from their hand with the blink of an eye.
There are a lot of things running through Azul's mind right now, but his goal was not forgotten. Get closer with Yuu, get that wheat, make business boom. Thus, he slightly extends his hand out to the basket of pixelated bread that is stacked upon each other like cards, "Mind if I have some?"
Yuu nods, so Azul reaches out with his gloved hand to take one of the reasonably sized hard-as-rock pixelated loaves of bread.
He goes in with two hands to rip the bread in half, but finds that it is rock solid. Of course it is. It is a physical slab of a pixelated graphic of a loaf of bread. Azul feels a bit stupid. ("Of course you are, normie! You should've expected that!")
Despite the failed first attempt, Azul tries to rip at it once more with more force. Fingertips pressed into the slab, he pulls his arms away from each other horizontally in a final attempt.
rrrip
Rip? Azul looks at the now split pieces of bread in his hands, and the previous rock-solid pixelated graphic has turned into actual bread.
Azul blinks. He looks at the basket of bread, and the pixel graphic was still there stacked neatly. Bringing his arms back, he observes the bread in his hands that looks to be an ordinary, warm, freshly baked loaf of bread that bore no resemblance to what he initially held in his hands prior to tearing it.
"You ever eat bread before?"
Azul nearly whips his head up to look at Yuu, who's unconcerning gaze never left him.
Pushing up his glasses, Azul speaks, "I assure you I know of bread, Housewarden. I was simply wondering.."
There are a lot of questions Azul wants to ask, those related and unrelated to the current situation, but he pulls through and selects a question that would give him more insight to the Housewarden's stranger properties.
"I was thinking about how you made this. It's still fresh and warm after all. I didn't know the oven in here was operable, no offense to you and your skilled craftsmanship."
Yuu shrugs, "Just 3 wheat, bread made."
Azul blinks.
"Do you mean 3 pounds of wheat? That's quite a lot of crop to process."
"No. 3 wheat makes 1 bread."
Azul Ashengrotto is one of the youngest genius businessmen to enter the world. His thorough work and sound words carry his reputation as smoothly as sea currents, letting all know of his benevolence and charm. However, such skill was not born from nothing. The young man had persisted through harder times, fought his way to the top, wrangling only the best of deals and people to keep his position rising, an experienced businessman as he is no stranger to challenge.
However, interacting with this abnormal Housewarden has somehow managed to shake the reality and logic of such a esteemed man more than thrice.
".. Do you mind explaining what that means, Housewarden? I feel that you might be referring to a unit of measurement from your home, which I'm unfortunately not familiar with."
Continued in part 2
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Text
The Secret Portal, Draft One
The people have spoken. Here's my school project I wrote when I was 10.
At fifteen pages, it was the longest in the class by far! (Our minimum requirement was two pages, which most barely reached)
I also got a 100% on it!
Instead of the regular taglist for TSP, tagging the people I tagged in the original poll -- @gracehosborn @illarian-rambling @mk-writes-stuff @elsie-writes @mysticstarlightduck @little-peril-stories @buffythevampirelover @willtheweaver @eccaiia @winterandwords @thepeculiarbird @televisionjester @finchwrites @theeccentricraven @awritingcaitlin @sleepywriter00 @dyrewrites @somethingclevermahogony @writeintrees @thebejeweledwatercat @theelfauthor @cadotoast @space-writes @sunset-a-story
Can't believe I have to put a warning on this, but--
CW: children are threatened with a firearm but don't worry no one gets hurt and they aren't even that scared; brief Harry Potter reference
Word count: 2.3k
Est. reading time: 7-11 minutes
The following is transcribed exactly as written, save for my use of multi-colored text, which I'm not gonna waste my time adding in.
****
~“Come on, Aurora!” I shouted to my friend, Aurora Flité, who wasn't moving from her seat at school. “Alexia, the bell hasn’t…” she started RRRIIINNNGGG!!! “Oh, wait! ‘The bell hasn’t rang yet’!” I joked. Aurora sighed, shook her head, and pushed herself up saying, “Ha, ha, ha!” “Bye Mrs. Kat!” we called. “Oh, wait Alexia,” Mrs. Kat, my teacher, called. “I found this.” She handed me my metal detector. “I found it on the floor. It said, ‘Redinés’ on it, so, I guessed it was yours.” “Thanks.” I said. “Bye, girls!” she called after us. We walk out of Little Rock Elementary. The beautiful blanket of May flowers stretched out all the way… to my house. <3 I sighed. Nothing was better than… “AAAHHH!!!” I whirled around. Aurora had disappeared! I moved the grass where she had been standing. A rock. A metal rock? I stood up, confused. I put my bag down, next to Aurora’s (which she probably dropped) and felt the rock with my hand. “AAAHHH!!!” I screamed.
EVERYTHING WENT BLACK
************
~I opened my eyes. Was I lying in snow? I forced myself up. Wait… it wasn't snow… it was… CLOUDS?!?!?!?! OK. I am dreaming. I thought.I pinched my self. OW! No, wasn't dreaming. “Aurora! Aurora!!! I called. NO ANSWER. Then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw a house. I crossed my fingers and hoped this was the right house. I knocked on the door and waited... and waited... and waited... and waited… and soon, I started to walk away when an elderly woman opened the door. “Hello!” she said, cheerfully. “Hihaveyouseenagirlwithblackishbrownredhair?” I blurted out. “Herhairflowsuptoherwaist.” “Wha...OH! Yeah, I’ve seen her. She went that way.” the woman said, pointing to her right. I ===zoomed off! “Oh! And watch out for my pet, Bobby!” I thought Bobby was a very hyper puppy that could trample me but, I had to continue my search. I soon found her upside down tangled in vines. I charged towards her. “HEADS UP!” I warned. I pulled on the vines. “AAHH!” she screamed. “umph!” she said as she hit the ground. I brushed the hair out of my eyes, when suddenly… “RRRROOOOAAAARRRR!!!!” We both whirled around. A dragon!! “Run for it, Aurora!” I breathed. We charged towards the house and banged on the door. “LET US IN!!” we shouted. “DRAGON ALERT!” “Come in girls!” the woman said, cheerfully. “Oh, and you too, Bobby!” “BOBBY?!” Aurora said weakly, and fainted... RIGHT ON TOP OF ME.
****
Aurora woke up a few minutes later and found me in the living room. “Where am I?” “The lady’s, Lizzy’s, house.” “Oh, yeah right.” We heard a clatter in the kitchen. We figured it was Lizzy or Bobby, but when we walked in a boy about 16 years old, was standing there. “Hey, you must be Alexia and Aurora! I’m George.” When I shook his hand, he seemed strong, but he didn’t look strong. “Hi,” a voice said behind us. A 17-18ish years old girl was smiling at us. “I’m Carly.” Suddenly, we heard laughter in the other room. We ran towards the noise. We found them in Lizzy’s bedroom. Lizzy and her husband were on the bed. “Oh, Aurora and Alexia, right?” he said. “I’m Theodore Majg. But you can call me Ted.” Suddenly, we heard a knock at the door.” “I’ll get it.” Lizzy sang, as she ran to get the door. “Alexia! Aurora! Someone’s here to see you!” she called a minute later. For US? HERE?! We ran towards the door. A man was there. He wore a very big black hat that covered his face. He also wore a long, black cape. There was only one thing I knew: We didn’t know this guy. The man in black pulled out a gun. A GUN! “Show me the treasure or everyone DIES!” What treasure??? I thought Aurora was about to faint when she said, “OK. we don’t know who you are or what treasure, but if you tell us, we might be able to help.” I thought the man was probably FURIOUS. Instead, he said, “Well, it’s what you call… a metal detector.”
****
~I couldn’t move. He wanted something that was in my pocket! “Um… about that...uh…” the words sounded as fake as they were. “It’s in Lizzy room!” Aurora and I ran in the other room. “I need to hide this!” I yanked out the “treasure”. “Why does he want this?” Aurora asked me. “The portal. The portal brought us here. In Cloud City!” (I named it Cloud City since we were in the clouds.) “The portal is metal. I explained. “I think he wants to use the metal detector to find the portal, destroy it, and keep us from going back to Arkansas!” Aurora looked bewildered. Suddenly, she snatched the metal detector out of my hands and jumped off the bed. “We still havn’t found it!” she shouted. Then, she THREW open the dresser drawer JAMMED the metal detector in, and SLAMMED the drawer shut! “Uhhh!” she grunted as loud as she could. “We just CAN’T find it!” she groaned. Wow! My BFF is a WONDERFUL actor. We went back out into the living room. “I’m sorry, sir. But we can’t find it. You can come back another day.” I said. “TOMORROW!” he shouted. When he left, I felt like fainting myself.
****
~That night, I couldn’t sleep a wink. I closed my eyes, trying to go to sleep. My mind was only focused on the metal detector. I thought of a safe place for it, out of the house. Then… I drifted… away….
****
~When I woke up the next morning, I had a weird feeling in the pit of my stomach that the metal detector was gone. I was about to say, “Aurora! Get up!” When suddenly… BOOP! BOOP! BOOP! BOOP! I screamed. Aurora screamed. We both rolled off the couches, which was where we were sleeping. Oh, by the way, that was Ted’s alarm clock. “Aurora,” I said. “I think we should check the drawer for the You-Know-What.” “Why do we ne-” But I was already running into the room. She sighed, and ran after me. She found me digging though Lizzy’s drawer. “Not here.” I told her. “Oh no!” Aurora exclaimed. “He broke in!” “Check the back door.” I ordered. She ran to the back door. I zoomed to the front. “Locked!” Aurora called. “Same here!” I called back. “Girls!” Lizzy’s voice called come here!” Aurora and I ran towards her voice. We found her in the kitchen sitting down on a chair. “Sit there,” Lizzy pointed to 2 seats in front of her. “You’re 10, right?” We nodded. Uh-oh. I knew what was coming. “Your parents found out when they were your age. You 2--like your family, and every one in this house--have…” Oh my gosh!!! I gave Aurora the Don’t Even Think About Fainting! look. She nodded. “...magical...abilities.”
****
~I knew it. Aurora--thankfully--didn’t faint. Whew! “Like what?” Aurora asked. “Well,” Lizzy said. “I can see through walls.” Our mouths fell open. “For example,” Lizzy went on “Ted is naked and in the shower.” Aurora looked like she was about to puke. “What’s mine?” she asked. “Well,” Lizzy stated, “Yours Aurora, is… Oh! Yeah! You can read minds!” Aurora’s face lit up. “COOL!” Oh my gosh! This is freaky! I thought. “Alexia,” Aurora said looking at me. “You are thinking Oh my gosh. This is freaky! Correct?” I nodded. My mouth was still open. “What’s mine?” I asked, even though I knew what the answer probably was. “Alexia, yours is transportation. You can transport objects, people, and animals to different places.”
****
~Wow! I knew it. I looked at Aurora’s glasses, closed my eyes, and focused on the table POP! I opened my eyes, and looked at the table. The glasses were there. Aurora started to reach for her glasses. I grinned. POP! They were on her lap. POP! They were on my head. POP! They were on her face. “Not funny!” Aurora looked annoyed, but she was biting her lip trying not to laugh. She then turned to Lizzy. “How close do I have to be to read minds?” she asked. “15 yards.” Lizzy answered. “I thought Aurora was done with questions, but, oh no! “You said everyone in this house had abilities! What’s Ted’s? What’s George’s? What’s Carly’s?” Lizzy sighed. “Wel, Ted has super-hearing for a mile. George has super-strenght. And Carly can pick up a pencial with her mind, and write something she’s working on sketching with her mind.” After ALL of that, I REALLY thought Aurora would be done with questions (expecialy if she could read minds) but, she wasn't. “Cool! You also said our families have abilities. What’s Mom’s? What’s Dad’s? What’s Robert’s? What’s Marie-Sue’s? What’s Julian’s? What’s Mrs. Redinés’? What’s Mr. Redinés’? What’s Kelly’s?” Oh my gosh, HOW CAN 1 GIRL HAVE THAT MANY QUESTIONS!? But Lizzy didn’t seem to mind. “Your mom can make things appear out of thin air. Your dad can embarass enemies. Robert can make his voice super loud and it can be heard for 3 miles when he taps his chest. Marie Sue can talk to animals. Tamara has X-Ray vision. And Julian can turn into animals.” Lizzy then turned to me. “Your mom can turn invisible. Your dad has a photographic memory. A Kelly can get in a full conversation ½ klm away.” OMG!!! This was waaaaay to much for me to handle. I absoultely positivley wanted to faint. But then it hit me. The metal detector was gone because of me! I didn’t even know where it was! Ding-Dong! Oh no! The man in black was here!! Wait! I can transport things! My mind focused on the metal detector. POP! The metal detector was safe. For now, at least. I ran towards the door. “Lizzy,” I whispered. “Do you know him?” I pointed to the door. “Take off his hat, Alexia.” I focused on his hat. POP! The hat was next to Ted (who had came out of the shower.) “How did this…” I gave him the Cut It Out! look. He nodded. “Now?” I asked Lizzy. She pushed her curly, gray hair out of her eyes and said, “Yes. He is an evil sorcerer named Warlock LV.” All of a sudden, I remembered Lizzy’s own words: “You can transport objects, people, and animals.” People. I can transport people. BAM! BAM! BAM! My mind focused on Warlock LV. POP! He was 0.6 klm away from us. “I heard a splash.” Ted said suddenly. “He’s at the pool.” I looked at him in surprise. But then I remembered that he could hear a mile away, and 0.6 klm is a mile. I ran into the living room. About a minute later, I had Lizzy, Ted, Aurora, George, and Carly living room with me. (I’d transported them) “I have a plan.” I said.
****
I tied my hair in braids to keep the hair--brown-mess off my shoulder. I made sure my scarlett dress was straight. I fumbled with my glasses. Even though it was my plan, I was REALLY nervous. Aurora and Ted were at the front of the house, waiting to hear him. (“Him” is Warlock LV.) Finally, “I hear him!” Ted called out. That was Carly’s cue. She made out 15-yard mark by picking up a chalk with her mind, drew a line and wrote: Don’t cross this line! Or else! And that’s exactly what we meant.
****
“I know what he’s thinking!” Aurora blurted out a few minutes later. “He’s thinking: ‘Don’t Cross This LINE! Or else! Ha! Stupid kids!’.” Wow. “Lizzy!” I called. “Remember the alarm!” A few minutes later, we heard… ERRRH! That meant Lizzy saw Warlock LV, and that was also George’s cue. He literally busted down the door, ran down the block, and threw Warlock LV up! This was my chance. My mind focused on him and I transported him far away. (I don’t even know where!) “We did it!” we shouted. Then Aurora tapped me on the shoulder. “Alexia, where is the metal detector?” I smiled. “Come on!” I walked into the kitchen, and pointed to the cookie jar on top of the refridgerator. I looked at Aurora. Her mouth was hanging open. I smiled, transported the metal detector down, and walked to the door. “Bye,” we called. “Bye, bye!” they called back. When Aurora and I stepped outside, we heard a roar. “Bye, Bobby!” we waved and it seemed like he waved back.
****
“I found it!” We had just reached the portal. I had been using the metal detector to find it. “I’ll go first.” Aurora said. She took a deep breath, stepped in, and disappeared. I looked around 1 last time. I told myself I can come back anytime. I sighed, closed my eyes, took one step, and fell back to Earth…
****
FLOP! I was back on Earth. I looked up., Aurora was standing there. I forced myself up, and looked at the school, 3:00PM?! But… I looked at the date on my watch, May 15, 2013!? No time had passed since we left. “Let’s… go...home.” I said.
****
I was exhausted! “Hi, Alexia!” my little sister, Kelly, said. She looked happy to see me. Something clicked. Kelly’s best friend, Nellie, had powers too. Nellie once looked like she was floating. I ran to the phone and saw my mom disappear into thin air. And then, my dad started to recite the entire 1st chapter of the 7th Harry Potter book, word for word! I grabbed the phone, dialed Aurora’s numbered and told her to bring Julian and Tamara.
****
On the way to the school, while Julian, Kelly, and Nellie were ahead of us, Tamara, Aurora, and I were talking about our powers. Tamara, Aurora, and I all agreed that Nellie’s magical ability was floating. All of a sudden… “AAAHHH!!!” We looked up. Julian and Nellie were looking down at the portal. “Wait for us, Kelly!” they shouted and jumped after her…………
And
I
knew
exactly
what
was
about
to
happen.
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puppyboypatrick · 2 months
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is it safe to wear a binder at a concert. real question
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