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#well i made it hard on myself but-- first time trying under face lighting? without a reference too lol i tried my best
vintagecandy · 6 months
Note
i'd love to see Jervis in 3B or 2D!
or maybe jonathan crane in 4B?
whatever strikes your fancy! (hope you are doing well!)
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Tick-tock, Gotham.
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its-time-to-write · 11 months
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Ok first of all I love Jamie and I love how you write him.
What about a secret girlfriend or wife that no one knows about who is really smart and they’re discovered but it’s the POV of others. And they’re all shocked that such a smart person is with Jamie.
Like Roy or some team members.
I have a hard time doing other’s POV’s. I’m sorry. This is the best I could do. Thank you so much for requesting!
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island made of faith
You’re a familiar face around Nelson Road long before anyone realizes why.
You suppose people just think you’re friends with somebody else, like how Ted thought you were friends with Sam, Sam thought you were friends with Dani, Dani thought you were friends with Higgins.
Everyone finds out in their own, memorable ways, and by the end of it you just wish you had taken Rebecca up on her offer to post a public service announcement. 
You’re there because you’re dating Jamie, obviously.
How it took everyone so long to figure it out, you don’t know. You think it’s because you’re always talking to everyone that no one notices Jamie’s arm is slung around you in a more-than-friends type of way. I mean, to be fair, Sam slings his arm around you. So does Dani. Richard is constantly flirting with you and so is Bumbercatch, but that’s just how they are, so no one pays attention when Jamie does the same thing and you blush just a little bit deeper than the others.
Maybe they’re just dumb.
Anyway, here are a few of the more unique ways people find out:
Ted finds out because you and Jamie are making out in the parking lot late at night, after everyone else has gone home. He immediately recognizes Jamie’s bright orange shirt and ICON hat, but is unfamiliar with whatever girl he has pressed against his car. Ted isn’t one to shy away from embarrassing one of his kids, so he shouts, “Good night, Jamie!” from across the lot. You both jump and break apart, leaving Ted to see Jamie’s surprised face covered in lipstick smudges and your embarrassed one, illuminated under a light. 
Ted is surprised as well. He didn’t know you were dating Jamie, and he says as much. He says he’s happy for you both, but he still has that same look of surprise. The next day, he assumes you two are trying to be secretive about it, because he doesn’t say anything in front of anyone, and you and Jamie don’t bring it up.
Dani finds out right after Sam, and it’s because he’s showed up at Jamie’s house on a Saturday morning with a large bottle of tequila and taco supplies. Jamie had forgotten about their breakfast taco plans, so you’re not expecting Dani when you open the door in one of Jamie’s t-shirts, hair messy from sleep. 
Dani looks at you, you look at him, and you yell, “Jamie,” without breaking eye contact. Jamie thunders down the stairs, says, “oh shit,” and that’s how you, Jamie, and Dani come to be taking tequila shots at 10:30 in the morning while putting the most outrageous things in between Dani’s homemade tortillas and having the audacity to call them tacos.
You’re not too far into your second taco when Dani points between you and Jamie and says, “It doesn’t make sense, amigo.”
Jamie looks at him. “What do you mean, mate?”
“You and her,” Dani replies, “She has such intelligence, and you’re you.”
A Look flashes across Jamie’s face and Dani hurriedly says, “I mean no offense, Jamie.”
Jamie grins and says, “None taken, muchacho,” and leans over to kiss you. 
Dani ends up passed out on your couch by 1pm.
Higgins finds out two days after Van Damme because Jamie needed a ticket for you. “That’s sweet to look out for her,” Higgins says, “She’s kind of like the team’s sister, isn’t she?”
Jamie lets out a snort. “She sure isn’t my sister.”
Higgins looks up from his computer, surprised.
“She’s my girlfriend,” Jamie clarifies. “That’s why she’s around all the time.”
“Oh!” Higgins replies, “That’s, well, that’s a little bit, well, shocking if I do say so myself.”
Jamie nods once then shakes his head, confused. “Sorry, how d’you mean?”
“Well,” Higgins seems flustered, “she just- I suppose, she’s just incredibly intelligent, and well-educated, and usually girls like that don’t go for star footballers.”
Jamie just looks at him. Higgins shrugs. “You know it’s true, Jamie. Look at her friends and see what types of men they go for.”
Jamie’s just at the point of feeling like absolute shit when Higgins says, “She’s lucky to have you.”
Now Jamie’s really confused, but Higgins continues, “I’ve noticed she smiles a lot more since she started coming around. She isn’t as quiet as she used to be. Rebecca was just saying the other day that she seems more- comfortable. She’s special, you know. Not many women go beyond exteriors to get to a man’s heart the way she does. She knew you had a heart of gold the moment she saw you. Take good care of her, because she’s a keeper.”
Jamie says, “Oh. I will,” because what else does he have to say to that? He’s out the door so he almost misses when Higgins says, “I know you will, Jamie.”
Jamie tells you about it later that night, and, because it’s dark, he doesn’t see you frown.
Other people find out in similarly “interesting” ways. Richard asks you out and then when you say you’re dating Jamie, asks, point-blank, “Why? You are so smart and so beautiful and he is so, comment dit-on,” here he searches for the right word and settles on, “he is so not.”
You wrinkle your nose at him and say, “I’m pretty sure he’s smarter than you,” and then go to find Ted to ask him if he has any food allergies, which is why you’re even in the smelly weight room in the first place.
Roy hears about it from Keeley, and he walks up to you after training while you’re waiting for Jamie to finish showering.
“Why the fuck are you dating Tartt?” he asks, no preamble. By this point, you’re getting pretty annoyed with what people think of Jamie. You make a mental note to murder the next person who reacts like this.
You glare up at Roy. “What’s it to you?”
Roy shrugs. “He’s just a prick. And you’re not. You’re actually fucking smart. You use more words in a sentence than he has in his whole brain.”
“Don’t fucking talk about Jamie like that,” you say, anger radiating off your whole body. You’re shorter than Roy, but you swear you can be scarier. “Say something like that to me again and I will personally wax your eyebrows off.”
Roy takes a step back, hands up in defense. “Oi, look, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hit a fucking nerve. I say shit like that to him all the fucking time. I didn’t mean to set you off.”
He’s sincere, which causes you to deflate a little. You peer behind Roy to see if Jamie’s on his way out yet. He’s not.
“Look,” you say, “everyone has been giving us shit when they find out about me and Jamie. They say something really mean about me being smart and him being dumb, and I’m over it. He’s way smarter than any of you give him credit for, and you all just don’t pay attention because of his accent or his himbo energy or whatever, but I pay attention, and he actually has a fantastic grasp on the difference between academic and conversational language, a distinction many intelligent people cannot make. I just want everyone to back the fuck off.”
Roy says, “Shit,” and then Jamie’s bounding out the doors and you do your best to dispel the previous tension.
Roy looks at you both thoughtfully as Jamie gives you a quick peck and then opens your door. Maybe he and the team are too fucking hard on Jamie, although he’ll never fucking admit it.
You’re slicing carrots a little too violently when Jamie brings it to your attention by saying, “You trying to murder them, love? Pretty sure they’re already dead.” 
You look up from your pile of carrot shreds, pulled from your thoughts. Jamie smiles, the dopey one he does to make you laugh. You barely crack a smile, which wipes the grin off his face. Now he’s concerned.
“What’s wrong, babe? This about the fuckin’ carrots?”
You shake your head. “No. This is not about the fucking carrots.”
“What’s wrong, then?” he asks. “You’re obviously thinking the carrots are something else, so what is it? D’you need me to kick someone’s fucking nuts in? Is it Roy?”
You ask, “Why would it be Roy?” in a tone that states it wasn’t not Roy.
Jamie shrugs. “I dunno, maybe the fact that your face looked like a thundercloud two seconds before I kissed ya, or the fact that his fuckin’ eyebrows were scrunchier than usual.”
That makes you smile for real. “How did you even notice that?”
Jamie smiles back, relieved that you’re no longer hell-bent on chopping the carrots and pretending they’re someone else. “I’m a genius at body-science,” he jokes. “I’m as smart as you, I just hide it better.”
That statement brings back your cloudy face and suddenly you’re ranting about Dani and Higgins, Richard and Roy, and anyone else who made similar comments including (but not limited to) Beard, Bumbercatch, Jan Maas, and a goddamn pub regular who you think is named Baz. 
You’ve finished your knife-waving and put it down safely on the cutting board when Jamie pulls you into his arms and kisses you. It catches you off guard, so you pull back for a moment.
“Want to go upstairs?” he asks.
Incredulity is written across your face. “I say all of that, and you want to go have sex? Please explain your logic.”
Jamie grins. “Babe, they’re gonna think what they’re gonna think. Can’t change it. Been using it to my advantage actually. So, I don’t care. But-” he continues, “I think it’s fucking sexy that you care. Hence, me fucking asking you to go have sex.”
You have to admit, that is a good logical jump. And he used the word hence. Correctly.
You concede and let him pull you away from the carrots.
You’re at Nelson Road again, this time in the locker room. Sex with Jamie be damned (not really) but you still fucking care. It doesn’t help that someone from work commented on your relationship in the same way the Richmond team has, a comment you shut down with something along the lines of inappropriate workplace conversation and I’m technically your boss.
Basically, you’ve had enough. You storm into the locker room and climb on the middle bench.
“Oi!” you shout above the din. The team quiets down almost immediately. “If I hear one more word about Jamie being out of my league, or his intelligence, especially when all of yours is highly questionable, I’m going straight to Ted and I’m telling him what really happened that night at last month’s away game.” You hold up a hand. “And don’t say he won’t believe me, because I know for an absolute fact he will take my word over all of yours any day, especially in this because it makes more sense than that bullshit story you fed him and Beard. Under stand?”
The team nods and mumbles, “Yes ma’am.”
“I cannot hear you,” you return snappishly.
You’re almost deafened by the “Yes ma’am!” they deliver in unison.
“Good,” you say. “Now, since I’ve all got you here, who’s coming for family dinner this Friday?”
Hands go up around the room and Jamie just stands back in awe. How the hell he landed someone like you, he has no idea. But he’s not worried about it. He doesn’t need to know. He’ll let everyone else worry about that.
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barefoothighlander · 1 year
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spillways - panic
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-simon 'ghost' riley x fem!reader
-warnings: mentions of ptsd, angst, bit ooc!ghost
-word count: 1.5k
-summary: after a year of working loosely alongside the 141, you are deployed on your first ground mission. trying to navigate having to work with a team and your lieutenant who seems set on getting a rise out of you.
next chapter fic masterlist
a/n: alright so I'm planning on making this a slow burn, we'll see how long that lasts, I'm trying so hard to be normal about ghost but at the same time I can't so, here you go. :)
I wonder to myself, 
could life ever be sane again?
You thrust yourself awake, alarm bells ringing in your head, something was wrong, something felt off. Faced with the darkness of your bedroom you shift your weight to glance around, nothing out of place, no noises aside from the occasional car alarm, but the buzzing, the buzzing was loud. Your head filled with the buzzing that seemed to have no end and no beginning, turning over you see the time, 3:44 am, staring back at you with that obnoxious, bright red gleam, sighing to yourself 2 hours of sleep isn’t so bad. 
Raising yourself from the bed you’re met with a cold breeze shit, the window was open, striding towards the wall to close it with a loud thud, you hated this apartment, it was old, nothing worked, and the floors creaked under any sort of movement, it didn’t feel like home. You manage the strength to walk to the kitchen and turn on a lamp, growing accustomed to residing in low light, rarely did you ever have your space fully illuminated. You pour yourself a cup of coffee and begin your day, you didn’t have much to do around the apartment considering the only thing on your agenda was to show up to base for deployment, but you still had 4 hours to kill. You occupied yourself with meaningless tasks, tidying the living space even though it had barely anything in it, you had bought the apartment 3 years ago but spent less than 9 months actually living there, it was simply a means of habitat between deployments. Truthfully you don’t know what to do with yourself if you aren’t off in some desert, or mountain range on a mission.
Finally, the clock read 7:15, you figured you had waited an adequate amount of time pacing around the apartment, so you got dressed in some casual clothes that were appropriate for any form of the tactical situation, grabbed your bag and left for the base. You made the drive often enough that it felt like your brain was on autopilot, muscle memory telling you where to turn and when. But you were right, something was off, the buzzing in your head was persistent, and your thoughts ran rampant, usually, you were halfway decent at getting your mind to quiet down, focusing it on whatever task you were assigned, but without some sort of obstacle, you found anxiety begin to bubble in your stomach. You weren’t nervous, not for a standard op, you had run through missions like this a handful of times, and you knew what to expect, what you needed to do, this was something else. Were you nervous to work directly with the 141? You had been assigned a posting with them for a little over a year now, but you never worked with them, only ever as the eye in the sky, providing aid only when deemed necessary, this time you would be on the ground with them, working with them, surviving with them.
Your thoughts occupied your time, and when you reached the base you felt like you had only been driving for 5 minutes. 7:47, enough time to sneak in, you weren’t close with the team, not like how they were with each other, they often invited you to the local pub after a successful mission but you always declined, giving them some excuse along the lines of you being too tired to stay out, most of the time they wouldn’t argue, but you could always feel a gaze staring daggers at the back of your head when you decided to not spend time with them. They meant well, you could tell, but you weren’t looking for another person to ask about your history, or why you joined the force, and you certainly weren’t looking for any sympathy, reducing yourself to a life of seclusion outside deployment.
You made your way to the briefing room, stunned to see that almost everyone was already there, everyone except one person, the only other person who found any sort of comfort in the shadows alongside you, the Ghost. Price waited another few minutes while the guys entertained themselves, recalling a few drunken stories they found amusing, Soap explaining to Gaz why he’s banned from 6 separate pubs in Manchester alone. At 7:56 you saw the door open, and the unmistakable mask breeze in, he was hard to miss, tall and broad, but quiet, always quiet. He found his place near the back of the room, settling himself to lean against a desk.
Turning your attention to Price, trying to focus on the information he was presenting, something about a cartel, and illegal weapons trading in Mexico. You couldn’t focus, not with the buzzing in your head, you tried your best, Ghost noticing the way you constantly adjusted your stance to try to hear Price better. Finally, the brief ended, and you could barely remember a thing the Captain had said aside from “meet at the heli deck 1600 hours.” Inching forward to grab a folder from the table so you could actually study what the assignment was, you felt a strong hand grab your elbow. Glancing up, Ghost was there, invading your space.
“You alright Sargeant?”
“Fine Leuitenent, why?”
“You seem agitated or something” He releases his grip on your elbow as he feels your muscles tense.
“Just tired, didn’t sleep well”
“I know the feeling, go rest, you have time” is all he says, and then he leaves.
You stop for a minute, fiddling with the edges of the folder in your hands, the buzzing is gone is all you can think, as you turn around to catch a glimpse of him, but he’s gone. 
For the first time today, your thoughts are clear, no alarm bells, no buzzing, there’s clarity, and you don’t know why. You chalk it up to the difference in humidity, or atmosphere around the base. But even in the clarity, you can’t sleep, you tried, laying down on your cot for nearly an hour, trying to will your body to rest, but it was useless, it’s hard to rest when you’re always in survival mode. Instead, you decide to take your efforts to the gym on base, choosing to put your thoughts to some use and beat the hell out of a punching bag.
Your knuckles are sore, your legs are cramping up, and you can begin to taste iron in your mouth, but none of these stop you. You continue your assault on the oversized bag of sand, forcing every ounce of energy into your punches and kicks.
“Thought I told you to rest” You didn’t hear him come in, but now, standing directly behind you, he’s hard to miss.
You keep facing away from him, centring the bag in front of you. “Couldn’t, thought my time was better spent here”
“You defied a superior's orders then?”
“A suggestion and an order are different Leuitenent”
“You always talk back? Tsk, that’s bad manners love” he asks, raising his arm to settle the bag in front of you, almost commanding your attention.
You turn to face him, finding his body much closer than you thought, you crane your neck to look into his eyes, they’re shrouded in black paint, his face concealed by the skull. 
“You don’t intimidate me, sir”
“Why not, every other bloke on this base is terrified of me,” he says leaning down a little, enough so that you can feel the warmth of his breath over your cheek.
You press your lips to his covered ear, making sure he hears you loud and clear.
“I see right through the mask,” you say, as you pull yourself back to stare into his dark eyes, and for a moment, you swear you see the telltale signs of a smile from the crinkles that form beside his eyes.
“I’ll see you on deck Sargeant” is all he says, striding away from you and down the hallway.
You stand there, breathless, you’ve never spoken to anyone that way, let alone a superior officer, but you won’t let him scare you, at the end of the day he’s just another man, made of flesh and bone, he bleeds the same colour as the rest of them.
You return to your shacks to rinse off whatever sweat you worked up. Stepping out and checking the time, 3:30, shit, how long was I in the shower for. Quickly gathering your necessary equipment for travel you make your way to the deck, only to be greeted by the loud whirring of helicopter blades, and the booming laughter of one Soap Mactavish.
“Ye ready for some fun lass?” Soap asks placing a firm hand on your shoulder.
Before you get the chance to respond Ghost once again appears out of nowhere.
“No time to waste, get packed in”
Soap glances at you but your eyes are set firm on the Leuitenent, while little feelings of anger begin to form in your chest. Removing his hand from your shoulder, Soap steps into the heli and seats himself next to some of the other guys. You situate yourself near the back of the carrier, far enough that no one would attempt to make conversation with you. To your dismay, Ghost plants himself directly next to you, close enough that your knees are forced to touch. You’re willing him to move, and he doesn’t spare a glance in your direction. 
This is gonna be a long ride.
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the-fiction-witch · 3 months
Text
Good Morning
Media The Artful Dodger
Character Jack Dawkins
Couple Jack X Reader
Rating Smut
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I did my best to be as hushed as I could. I ambled up the wooden stairs of the hospital. I bounced across the steps to ensure I evaded the floorboards that would creak. The last thing I wanted was to awaken the patients already in misery in the ward below, clung to the love of sleep as it would force their pain to be numb for a few hours, or the nurses who work hard bustling about every day to ensure the work completed. They needed their sleep. I didn't want to wake them. Or the doctors who all had such harsh work to rest from the day before and would have even more to do today.
I hustled but made sure to remain silent as I reached the little brown dusty door before I took the knob in hand. I gave the doorknob a gradual twist to the right. I made sure to stop before it was completely open and would click, but ensured it had turned so that the pin would be drawn back enough to open the door. All without the doorknob creating a single sound. Such would be impossible on the first try, but this was far from my first try. It went off without a hitch, allowing me to push the door open slowly and carefully without provoking the door to whine or the coats on the back to swish or bang against it.
As I stepped in, I avoided the floorboards I knew would creak. The moment I was far enough inside, I took the doorknob on this side of the door in hand, keeping it in my grip as I released my hand on the outside. This kept the doorknob from springing back the pin which would make a sound. I carefully pushed the door back into its frame the only sound was a slight sound of pushed air as the door replaced it and the air came through the small gaps in the wood, I carefully turned the doorknob slowly until the pin was back keeping the door shut and the tension released so it would not make a single sound.
I turned and looked into the room cluttered with books, clothes and other such clutter, the early morning sun cascading in through the frosted windows at the end of the room. The body in the bed blissfully sleeping. I smiled and headed over making sure to be as quiet as I could as soon as I was close enough I perched myself on the little metal-framed bed, seeing the sweet well washed blue blanket on top of the white covers, the body within mostly concealed but a single thin arm, his hand tucked under the pillow and his fluffy dirty blonde head. His face nuzzled into the pillow to try and avoid the morning light. His body turned slightly to the side as if he had bundled himself into a ball in his sleep, He was still and silent his gentle breaths the only sound with a slight wheeze every so often, his eyes closed gently without apprehension yet for this waking world.
I grinned and moved my hand up to his hair, I caressed his soft blonde locks. I hummed my little tune as he began to softly stir stiffening his face from the light and the mere concept of the morning. I giggled and stroked his soft, warm cheek which caused him to stir a little more, his body seemed to notice my hand and he moved his head into my touch like a cat being pet, in time his mouth found the side of my palm, and he kissed it softly. I smiled and rubbed my thumb across his cheekbone as I hummed my tune almost lulling him to sleep like a lullaby.
He groaned and grumbled turning his body over to face the wall, trying to escape the responsibilities of the day and cling to his dreams. I shook my head a little and returned to my feet, I unbuttoned my dress letting it fall and pool on the floor, I untied my corset and let it fall to the floor too leaving me in my underdress. I made sure to be quiet as I pulled up the covers and climbed into the warm soft bed, he shifted a little feeling the weight of me added to his bed but I moved close, I wrapped my arms around his torso my hands on his warm bare chest, I rested my cheek against his back close to his shoulder.
He let out a long peaceful sigh to feel himself in my arms, he wriggled a little but not away from me, back towards me adjusting himself back so we could be closer and he could be held tighter like a sweet little spoon.
I giggled and gave his shoulder a gentle kiss softly stroking his chest and stomach with my hands. We lay like this for a good while the sun rising higher and brighter as time went on all of which threatened to force him from his cozy sleepy state. 
He turned over to face me his eyes still closed, he came up close and nuzzled into my neck, he wrapped his arms tightly around my waist. I smiled and wrapped my own around him too my hands in his locks, I wrapped my fingers around his hair and kissed his forehead. For a while, we just lay like this very cosy, and comfy together. He lay so happily that the only sounds of sweet fumbles and grumbles in a sleepy state, after a good while his hand moved after it lay on my waist, I didn't mind and just held him close until his hand began to creep up my body taking a soft grip of my breast though my underdress.
I chuckled but didn't argue with him, allowing him his fun, as he groped and fondled my breast squeezing and squishing it, pressing and shaking it, compressing and massaging it, the only sound coming from him some low moans and grumbles of enjoyment. I smiled and kissed his forehead as he plaid with my breast slowly but surely getting more aggressive as he got hungrier and more flooded with his desires. 
He began to kiss my neck softly and gently pressing a trail of kisses down to my underdress where his hand rested, He tugged down my underdress to expose my bare breast and continued his kiss down my chest and breast slightly biting as he kissed, until he reached my nipple. He clamped his lips around my nipple and swirled his tongue to harden it continuing his circles as he gently sucked, I didn't bother to stop him he was happy and I admit it felt very nice to see him be so attentive, his hand of course left my breast and moved to my ass giving it a firm slap making me jump a little.
He gave my ass a few firms slaps as he sucked before his hand stroked my thigh moving it around his hip and slipping his hand between my legs, his fingers made short work of pushing up my underdress and he stroked my mound before giving my clit a merciless rub I did my best not to moan. Still, he just kept rubbing until he forced a moan out of me, as soon as I moaned he pulled back from my breast and kissed my lips with a firey passion, I happily kissed back already excited even if I was amused that he was yet to open his eyes. 
His hand moved so he could thrust his index and middle finger inside me making me gasp he used this as a perfect example to add tongue into our kiss, which I happily smiled into and began to battle with him, He thrusted his fingers slowly at first his thumb rubbing on my clit I did my best not to moan but it was very hard to keep quiet his groans into our kisses only fueled us more, I slipped my hand down and began to stroke his already hard erection which made him moan loudly pulling away to kiss my neck.
He pulled his hand away and kissed down my chest, flicking my nipple with his tongue as he kissed down my underdress moving me onto my back as he reached my clit, he kissed and sucked my clit mercilessly his fingers slipping back inside me. I moaned trying my best not to be loud feeling the bubbles of pleasure curling my toes and digging my nails into the sheets, my head rolled back onto the pillow. His other hand came up and squeezed on my breast twisting and tugging on my nipple making me moan loudly. 
I tugged him up by his hair, he moved pulling his hand away and kissing my neck. He tugged up my underdress to my waist, He smirked and quickly wrapped his legs around my waist slipping inside me, He groaned and moaned loudly as soon as he grabbed my hips and thrusted fast and hard.
I began to scream pulling his lips to my own and kissing him with passion and adrenaline, once he got to a very steady pace his hands left my hips to grab my breast making me giggle a little his other hand on my clit rubbing mercilessly as he thrusted both of us moaning and groaning until my body began to shake and I tightened my legs around him as I knew how close I was, which only made him smirk with a sly smile getting faster and more merciless until I hit my orgasm grabbing his face and biting his shoulder as I felt the pleasure flood from my head to my toes and back again, 
I gasped as I collapsed against the bed feeling him keep going letting me ride it out as long as possible, until he buried his head in my neck and his hips bucking like crazy as he buried himself inside me with a long groan before he pulled out and collapsed on the bed beside me as we gasped and tried to get ourselves straight after all that. 
"Good Morning Jack ..." I gasped with a wide smile,
"Good Morning Y/n," he smiled back intertwining his fingers with my own. 
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cloudy-em · 9 months
Text
Hotel - Emily Prentiss x Fem!Reader (smut)
DO NOT INTERACT IF UNDER 18
warnings: mention of toys, fem reader w/ fem anatomy, pillow humping, mild voyeurism/exhibitionism(?), oral (reader receiving), praise, mild degradation, light smacking (thighs, ass), mommy kink. i think that's it?
Being in love with your coworker is not easy. I’m constantly hiding, fearful of her or our other coworkers finding out. What’s even less easy is hiding how turned on you are when you have to room with her.
Emily was wearing that stupidly tight red tank top today, which shouldn't have been enough to get me flustered, but it was. What made my panties begin to feel particularly damp, however, was watching her flirt with an unsub from the other side of the glass. Watching how she pushed out her chest a bit more, twirled her hair, and used her silky voice to imply a fun night made me unable to focus, imagining what it would be like if she was flirting with me instead.
So here I am, in our shared hotel room trying to act casual as Emily freshens up so she can go down to the hotel bar and get drinks with JJ and Penny.
“You sure you don't want to come with?” she asks, walking out of the bathroom to grab her shoes.
“No, but thanks, Em. I’m just really tired. Think I’ll take a shower and relax,” I replied, shrugging.
“Well, alright, but if you change your mind you can always come join us! We’ll probably be down there for at least 2 hours,” she smiles at me and I smile back at her, watching as she closes the door behind her. I wait a few beats.
There’s absolutely no way I’m making it through the night without taking care of myself, and she made it really easy for me to be able to do that. She’ll never even know.
I’m in no rush, so I take my time. I pull my shirt off, gently massaging my boobs through my bra before freeing them and squeezing them more. I pinch my nipples softly, enough to send just a small spark through my spine, sighing in contentment. Running my nails up and down my stomach and hips, I realize just how desperate I am as I shiver. I stand up off the bed, pulling my pants down as well as my panties. I pause for a second looking at the wet patch in the lace, embarrassed despite no one being around. How can I really be that wet when Emily doesn't even try to make me?
Laying back on the bed, I start gently, squeezing my thighs, putting a light amount of pressure just above my clit. I move a finger down, collect some lubricant and move it up, circling my clit slowly with minimal pressure. Instinctively, I reach my other hand out on the bed beside me, reaching for my vibrator. But this is a work trip, so I didn't bring it. Who brings sex toys with them on work trips?
I sigh, realizing I’m gonna have to go back to what I did before I finally had the courage to get my first toy.
I grab two of the pillows, placing them in a stack to help prop my body up so I can get a good angle. Gripping the top pillow, I straddle the pile and guide my cunt to the corner, grinding down. It feels so good, although I miss my usual dildo and hitachi wand combo, it’s good. I grind down again, this time harder; more desperate. Oh yes, this will do just fine to relieve myself. I continue humping the pillow, my hips bucking forward for stimulation. My left hand grips the headboard, my right keeping the pillows steady so I can keep fucking myself at the right angle. I try to keep quiet, but it’s hard when I’ve been so pent up all day. I let my moans out, whiny and desperate, and a few utterances of Emily’s name.
“I thought you were tired?”
I jump, turning to face the door. Shit. Emily’s back and she just caught me humping a pillow, my pussy completely visible. I’m desperate to hide myself under the covers but she steps forward.
“No, no,” she says. “You know, I just came back up to grab a jacket, but this is much better than my margarita.”
I look at her, wide-eyed, still trying to process. She sits on the bed next to me and reaches a hand out to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear, cupping my flushed cheeks.
“It’s okay, baby,” she reassures softly. “We all have needs. What were you thinking about, huh?”
I shift in an embarrassed manner, “I was thinking about you.” My whispered confession feels like I shouted it.
“Aww, you were? You're so cute. Let’s see what we can do to help you.” She pulls the sheets away from my body, revealing my breasts to her. She lets out a groan, groping both of them.
“You have the most beautiful fucking tits, baby,” she says, moving to bite my tits. She starts sucking my nipples, and I moan loudly. Emily pulls away.
“You aren't allowed to stay quiet, you know? You make the cutest noises, and I need to hear them,” she says. She pulls the sheets the rest of the way down, my body on full display for her. My thighs are pressed together, and she gently smacks my right thigh to get them to move apart. I spread my legs slightly, and she cups my pussy.
“Aww, you're so wet, aren't you?” I nod as she presses the heel of her palm on my clit. She kisses my cheek and pulls her hand away.
“Show me what you were doing.”
I waste no time in climbing back up to straddle the pillows and she gets up, standing behind me to watch as I hump the pillow desperately.
I moan every time the pillow fabric pulls against my clit, and I can feel my cunt leaking on the pillows. I close my eyes, grinding faster, the pleasure growing.
“Mommy,” I let out without even realizing it until I hear Emily chuckling behind me.
“Who would have ever thought that you’d have a mommy kink? You seem so vanilla, but I know,” she leans down next to me to whisper in my ear. “You're my dirty slut, aren't you? You're mommy’s whore?” I nod, moving my hips faster.
“Say it.”
“Yes, mommy, I’m your slut! I’m your whore,” I moan out, hips stuttering. “I’m so close, mommy, please!”
“Stop.”
I whine, but stop moving my hips anway. She pulls me to the end of the bed, facing each other, and kisses me deeply. She pulls away, smirking as she kneels down and spreads my legs.
“Oh baby,” she practically moans. “You have the prettiest pussy.” Without hesitation, she presses her mouth to my pussy, licking wherever she can. She circles my hole with her tongue, moving it back up to flick against my clit.
“Mommy please!”
She continues eating me like a starving woman, sucking and kissing my clit. She can tell how close I am as she makes out with my pussy.
“I’m gonna cum,” I warn her, hips bucking. She wraps her lips around my clit and sucks hard, making me orgasm so hard that I get dizzy for a second. She continues licking me, claiming she’s cleaning me up. I shiver as I come down from my orgasm. When she’s done, she kisses me once more. She stands up and my eyes follow her. She begins pulling her pants off, and I question her.
“You didn't think I was done with you, did you?”
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simpleeshea · 2 months
Text
On the clock!
C!Wilbur x Gn! Reader
<Previous Chapter Next chapter>
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Chapter 8
It’s okay, I’m a cheap date.
Tw: alcohol
"So then hold me."
He said this and my mind drew a blank. Wilbur’s watery eyes watched as a breath caught itself in my throat latching onto the inner-workings of my skin like tiny knives, desperate to not be released. I watched as his arms awkwardly motioned open. He was letting me in, he was allowing himself to be vulnerable toward me. And not just in an emotionally vulnerable way. No. Wilbur was standing just a few feet away with his arms shakily outstretched offering to let me.
I hesitated. I hesitated and I hated myself for it. Wilbur’s arms fell flat to his side but just as they did I took quick steps and wrapped my arms around him. It wasn’t my first time hugging him today, but this time it was different. This time Wilbur had offered himself up to me instead of it being a spontaneous act on my part as a way to cheer him up. This was Wilbur actively saying with his actions that he wanted to let me help him, to let me be there for him. His body was taut under my arms before he released a breath and relaxed into the hug, bringing his arms around my body as well to hug me back. He was cold, so cold. It was no wonder to me now as to why he always wears his giant coat. My head pressed hard against his chest, holding him close as a way to say that I would never let him go... never let him fall down the path he had once before. Wilbur was not a lost cause. Even if he stopped believing in himself long ago, I will never stop trying to hold him up, never stop my belief that he can be better, that he is better than who he was before.
"Wilbur?" I asked with a voice muffled into his chest.
"Hmm?" he mused softly, seeming for once completely at ease even though I could hear the small cracking of his voice through his soft and barely perceivable tears.
"What do you say we get out of here?"
He took a small step back but his hands trailed down from my back to hold my elbows. I assumed he did this just so he could still feel the warmth and comfort of my hold as my hands still rested softly on the dips of his waist.
It was at this moment I looked up into his sad brown eyes. They were watering over with salty tears, a few already stained to his cheek. Without thinking I reached up with my hand and wiped his cheek, letting my hand rest on his cold skin for a bit longer before bringing it back to his waist.
"Yeah, I would like that."
I hadn't really put much thought into where we would go. It was just a spontaneous ask. An ask because I knew the headachingly lit lights and whirling sounds of the gas station were far from what Wilbur needed right now. I was far from what Wilbur needed right now. But I would have to suffice. I was hesitant to ask my next question, not because I was embarrassed by my lifestyle but more because I didn't want to make Wilbur uncomfortable, but I still went forward with the question. "We could go back to my place?" Wilbur blinked once at my offer, a small tear trickling down his face as he did. "I know you said getting drunk twice in one work week was a bad idea... but I think you're worth the exception. At least just this once," I tried to laugh halfheartedly.
Slowly a small smile began to form on his lips as he wiped his eyes with his sleeve. "That sounds wonderful," his voice was a bit stronger now, still though, I could hear the pain in the back of his throat as if he ached to scream to the world about his apathy.
My face lit up. I wasn't terribly excited about showing off my small apartment but I knew that Wilbur of all people would never judge me for my state of living.
--
After I finally made it to the apartment complex with Wilbur tailing behind me, I got out of my beat-up truck and slammed the door hard to make sure it shut all the way before locking it. Wilbur had parked right beside me. His car wasn't anything special either, but it at least looked to be in better condition than mine. I turned and looked at Wilbur as I led him up the stairs, "Sooo..." I hesitated.
"Sooo?" he asked.
"You're gonna have to stand outside for just a second before I let you in so I can make sure it's clean." And before you ask, yes, yes I did clean before leaving. But I was in a hurry to leave when Wilbur asked me to come in and help, which means I left my clothes from before work scattered on the floor.
"Oh okay, that's alright," it was clear to see he felt awkward, which I planned to fix as soon as I could.
I stepped inside right after unlocking my apartment door and quickly scooped the clothes off of the floor and threw them into my hamper. After that, I tossed on a new shirt and pants that weren't stained with an assortment of slushie flavors and then quickly brushed out my hair. "Work air," I rolled my eyes and scoffed before quickly rushing to open the door for Wilbur. His eyes locked onto me as I huffed slightly being out of breath from just running around. "Say hello to my mojo dojo casa house," I joked slightly, not even sure if he would get the reference.
He laughed slightly under his breath, I still wasn't certain if he got the joke and cursed myself for saying something that stupid.
"The Barbie movie was really good," he said adding to the conversation. A breath of relief fell from my mouth as he said that, I suddenly felt a lot better about my joke. Wilbur was good at that: unknowingly taking my anxieties and tossing them in the trash.
"Yeah!" I perked up with a smile as I went into my small kitchen and reached up into a small cabinet reaching for a bottle of cheap wine. "You can sit wherever," I quickly motioned to around the room before continuing on to say, "I actually sobbed watching Barbie, though."
Wilbur nodded and watched as I poured wine into a glass for him and I. "I can see why, it's a lighthearted movie that still brings forth a serious message."
A small warm smile crept up onto my face, pleasantly delighted that he understood. Green flag. I handed him his glass to which he smiled and thanked me before taking a small swig of the red liquid. His brows contorted as he smacked his lips together. "It's shit isn't it?" I laughed and he nodded.
"Yeah, that's bad," he said as he tried to get the taste out of his mouth, "really bad."
I laughed more at his reaction, seeing as he was so repulsed by the red liquid. I lifted my glass to my lips taking a big swallow of it and squinting hard as it burned its way down my throat and chest. I shook my head and gagged. "You're wrong," I wanted to cry, "It's terrible." I sat the glass down and listened to Wilbur snicker in the background and take another drink of the horrible liquid. I turned and gave Wilbur a hard side-eye, to which he only laughed more, nearly spitting out his drink at the look I sent his way.
"How much is the alcohol content in this?" he asked, staring down at the fermented drink as he swirled it around.
"About thirty percent, I think, maybe twenty-five. I'm not too for certain but it's pretty old... and not like the aged kind of old."
Wilbur shook his head as he took another drink, to no one's surprise, it was still bad. "How long have you had that?" his voice sounded disgusted as he asked.
"Since I moved out," I answered quite plainly before taking a small and agonized sip.
"And how long ago was that?"
"You don't even wanna know," my lips formed into a smirk until my eyes focused on the fact that Wilbur was still in his gas station uniform, which was known for having an itchy collar. "Do you want something to change into?" I asked.
"Uhm," Wilbur looked down at his clothes as if he hadn't even noticed, "Yeah sure, if you have something. If not then don't worry about it."
I shrugged, not sure myself if I did have anything that could fit that beanstalk of a man. "Let me look right quick." I sat my drink down on the table and stood up to go look inside my closet. Wilbur's eyes followed as he took another pained sip and I dug around through my small collection of clothes. Suddenly my eyes locked on something that looked big enough. My face lit up in excitement before quickly shoving all of my other clothes out of the way to reveal the hoodie. But slowly as I realized just whose the hoodie was my eyes dimmed. I pulled it off the hanger anyway and tossed it to Wil.
"Oh, so you do have something," Wilbur said slightly surprised.
"That tends to happen when people leave shit at your house," I shrugged trying to ignore the pressure that was forming in my chest. Quickly, I picked my glass back up and drank up the remaining liquid to cancel out the pressure in my chest with a new kind of burn. Wilbur glanced at the hoodie for a moment before taking off his shirt. I watched dumbfounded for a second before covering my eyes with my hand. Wilbur didn't seem to notice or care for my reaction. My mind went numb, and it wasn't because 'Oh mY gOsH, I jUsT sAw HiM sHIrTlEsS', No. It was, oh my gosh, I just saw him shirtless and he has a giant scar in his lower stomach. I felt my stomach sink in a deep sickness. I could feel the whirling of burning liquid deep in my gut just waiting for the perfect moment to come back out of my throat. Wilbur tossed the hoodie over his head and slipped his long arms inside. I bit my lip to try to keep it from quivering as I saw the hoodie. It had been in that closet for god knows how long just collecting dust. I almost burned it after everything that had happened… but I refused to be one of those crazy psycho ex partners even if I am just a bit crazy . Wilbur looked over at as if he seemed to wanted to say something but he was holding himself back. Finally he said, “You have any cigarettes by chance?” I knew that wasn’t what he was originally going to say. Wilbur never hesitated to ask me for a smoke, especially considering how often I bum off of him.
I looked around the room before remembering that I smoked my last one. “No…” my voice trailed off before I remembered something and quickly stood up. I was surprised by how dizzy I felt for a moment but ignored it as I ran over to my paint-chipped nightstand and rummaged through the drawer before pulling out a small device.
I took a quick hit from the cool grape flavored nic-stick as I liked to call it before tossing it over to him. “I have this though.”
Wilbur’s eyes seemed to slowly light up, I could tell the alcohol was starting to hit him too. “Rightttt, from when you tried to switch over.” He laughed, “That didn’t last long.”
“Yeah I hated having to charge it,” I said shaking my head before going to sit back down at my small table and pouring another glass of shit wine.
“Really? In surprised it’s alive then,” he said before tossing it back over to me as I took a long hit from the device only for it to not work.
“You jinxed it…” my voice pouted as I slapped the vape down on the table.
Wilbur laughed wholeheartedly, it was a pleasant change to the tears from earlier today. A groan fell from my mouth as I got up to find a charger and plug it in. My mind was hazy and it felt like an animation with missing frames. “Hey y/n,” Wilbur asked catching my attention. I turned my heavy head toward him as I felt the charger click into place inside the device.
“Yeah, Wilbur?”
“Do you think I could ever actually apologize to Tommy?”
I sat for a second on the bed and looked at him as he sat at the table. He was tipsy, I could see it very clearly despite the rest of my vision being far from clear. I sighed softly before saying, “Wilbur… do you think you think you can?”
He seemed taken aback by the question, as if he hadn’t expected the tables to turn on him. “Well I-“ he paused, searching the room as if it could give him the answer. “I don’t… I don’t know.”
“I don’t think you can.”
“What?” his words fell softly and brokenly.
“I know that you can, Wilbur,” I beamed at my own cheesiness and Wilbur could tell I was trying to make him smile. “Of course you can, maybe not nowwww… but you will, eventually.” I shrugged taking the vape off of the charger for a moment to get a good hit in before tossing it across the room hoping Wilbur could catch it in his dizzying state. And he didn’t. But thankfully it fell on the carpeted part of the floor to which he picked it up.
Wilbur in his hazy state bent over to pick up the small purple device and bring it to his lips. "Thanks, Y/n," he said in a whisper as smoke came rolling out from his lips.
I nodded before standing up and walking over to sit across from Wilbur at the table. I threw my head back with glass in hand, taking a big drink feeling as it burned its way down. I shook my head disapprovingly of the taste. "We should play a game," I say simply, feeling bored.
"Like what?" Wilbur said with thick a thick voice.
"I dunnoooo," I drawled, "Just a game."
Wilbur took another long hit from the vape before sliding it across the table back over to me. I felt my head grow heavy so I slumped it onto the table just barely peeking up at the fluffy-haired man through my arms. A random thought popped into my head, it was only just for a moment, but just a moment was enough for my far from sober state to blurt it aloud. "You're eyes are so pretty."
Completely forgetting about my game question Wilbur looked down at me with a strange look on his face only for it to slowly turn into a smirk. "Really?" his voice was heavy, we were both clearly drunk at this point. "What else?"
"Pardon?" I asked genuinely lost.
Wilbur smirked, standing up slowly from his chair and coming behind me. I felt a chill tingle in my spine as he stood there for a moment before he slowly bent forward his chest pressingly slightly against my back leaving my breath to be caught in my throat. My eyes went wide as I felt him against me until I saw his hand snake over and grab the vape sitting right in front of me on the table. He just wanted the nic-stick, was the conclusion I came to, but as he leaned back with vape in hand he asked again, "What else do you think about me?"
I turned in my chair giving him a confused look as he only seemed to smirk wider before putting the device to his lips and blowing out smoke from his nose. I turned back and took another drink of wine, knowing that it was a need in this moment. My glass hit the table with a small thud as I sat it down. My mind was far too hazy to think about anything at all and it only got worse as Wilbur's hand moved to rest on my shoulder from behind me. His arm reached around with vape in hand, he held the device to my mouth and despite the uneasiness I felt, I still sucked in the metallic vapor and felt as it slowly rushed to my brain. It felt as though he was trying to get me nic high and drunk so he could hear exactly everything I thought about him. "Am I being interrogated?" I said hazily.
Wilbur chuckled deeply, "No. Just curious."
"mmmm," I mused, taking the vape from him and hopping up to throw it back on the charger in my bed. His eyes watched each step I took. "So you want to know what else I think?"
He nodded, taking what remained in my wine glass and gulping it down quickly.
"Well, what do you want to know?"
Wilbur shrugged, "Anything at all," he went on further to say, "I want to know how your pretty little head sees me."
I could feel the heat rise to my face even though I wasn't even too sure it was a compliment in my state. My eyes slowly trailed to stare at the wall while my brain wandered in deep thought. "I think you're really tall," I said confidently. "Fuckin' beanstalk," I mumbled.
Wilbur's brows rose and his eyes went wide before falling back to a resting position and his lips forming into a smirk. Slowly he approached the bed and sat down beside me, reaching over his hand just barely grazing my upper thigh as he leaned over in close again to reach for the device on the charger. "What was that last part," he whispered lowly as he reached in and as he pulled away he finished by saying, "I didn't quite catch it."
I stared at him, my head was throbbing and the room felt like it was spinning. In this state I didn't give too shits... maybe that was why I enjoyed being drunk so much, I could speak my mind and I didn't worry so much about what others thought. I leaned into his ear and whispered, "I said...FUCKIN' BEANSTALK" the last few words were yelled into his ear. I leaned backward in a fit of laughter, laying back on my pillow as I giggled and Wilbur grumbled about me yelling in his ear.
He shot me a dirty look before giving me a quick slap to the arm.
"Owwww," I pouted.
"You're fine," he huffed out angrily. I gave him a side-eyed look before crossing my arms and turning away from him. He stared at me as I looked away from him, staring indignantly at the boring wall. "You're so beautiful." I blinked once before his hand snaked over to cup my cheek and turn it to face him. "You deserve to know that," he said softly. "Sometimes I don't think you realize the effect you have on others."
"What-" I stared at him in confusion, bringing my hand to his on my cheek and moving it down to hold it in my lap, "What do you mean?"
He offered me a warm smile, "You try to act like you have all of your shit together all of the time... You smile and laugh, trying to make sure everyone else is happy before worrying about yourself. You're so genuine... I think that's what I really like about you, Y/n."
I was completely and utterly lost. HUH?! ME? Genuine??? I laughed, "Wilbur you do realize you know like nothing about me? I can't bring myself to share with you who I actually am... You're-" I paused shaking my head in crazed laughter, "You're so much stronger than I am. You've gone through so much. So much! Way worse than I have and you can still share it with me- with the world."
Wilbur's face morphed into a frown, "But you still have the strength to smile... to make me smile," he said drunkenly. "I wasn't," he gave a small exhale, fumbling with his hands in his lap. He blinked hard before saying, "I wasn't happy before you came into my life. When I'm at work, I feel as though I'm the happiest I've been in a long time... and it's all because of you."
I was gobsmacked... and a little upset knowing I probably wouldn't remember much of this conversation in the morning. My body was swaying and my head spinning, "Wilbur I-"
"You don't have to say anything," he said with a warm smile cutting me off as he spoke, "You just needed to know."
----
To this day I can't recall much else from that night. Even most of that was just how I assume my brain filled in the gaps, what I had come to believe as truth to what had happened that night. The only thing I know for a fact is that I woke up with Wilbur beside me in bed, cuddled up next to my frame.
A/N
Rip to my icy grape nic stick, she will be missed.
Anywhore, I'm alive. After a bit of health issues, I'm back and working again.
15 notes · View notes
plentyoffandoms · 3 days
Note
If you feel like it i was hoping to request a Eric Draven x fem reader fic inspired by the song Falling Slowly by Glen Hansard?
Falling for You
Eric Draven x f/Reader
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Main Masterlist ♡ Miscellaneous Movies Masterlist
Just like all my other stories, this has not been proofread, but please enjoy.
Warnings: stalking behaviour. Mentions of death & murder but nothing graphic, along with a woman being assaulted, but once again, nothing graphic.
Gifs & photos do not belong to me. 1st gif @hypnoticvamp
Requested by anonymous. Hope you like it. Sorry it took so long. I am not back at work & no longer on vacation.
WC: 758
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I don't know you, but I want you
All the more for that
Words fall through me and always fool me
And I can't react
I remember when I first saw her. I was high above the city, like I usually am, but for some reason, she caught my eye.
I saw her struggling with the two bags of groceries in her hands as she tried to unlock what I could assume was her front door. She lived above a pizza place.
I was about to leave when I saw the light turn on in her living room. I watched as she put her groceries away.
I have no idea how long I stayed there, watching as she did this, but the moment she sat down on her couch, I decided to leave and never come back.
And games that never amount
To more than they're meant
Will play themselves out
I went back to the same ledge for the third time this week, lying to myself that there was one man here that I still needed to find so that way I can finally be at peace after that happened with Shelly and I.
But there was no other man that I needed to find. I knew I got them all.
As I look at this still nameless woman, I tried to see if she was in any way similar to Shelly, but I could not see any.
But why am I so drawn to her?
Take this sinking boat and point it home
We've still got time
Raise your hopeful voice, you have a choice
You've made it now
I forced myself to stay away, knowing that she would be better off without me. That anyone one close to me will most likely die a brutal death, and I could not lose someone else.
Not even her, who has no idea that I even exist. I even know her name and have watched her one too many nights, making sure she got home okay from going out with her friends.
I would be near her, with no face paint on, hearing her talking about how she feels like she is always being watched.
Her friends said she should call the cops, which made me almost roll my eyes, as what could those fuckers do?
They are under so many thumbs, even though they have a hard time trying to figure out who they can arrest and who they can not.
"I don't know. I don't feel weirded out or anything. It is probably just my imagination." Was all she said before she took a sip of her drink.
Falling slowly, eyes that know me
And I can't go back
And moods that take me and erase me
And I'm painted black
After staying away from her for a mere two nights, I saw her taking her usual route home from work, but she was not alone.
Two men were following behind her. Much to close for my comfort, but she didn't know that they were there.
She was listening to her cassette tape, most likely Nirvana or Aerosmith, two of her favourite bands.
I watched as they got closer and closer to her, until finally, one of them decided to push her into the wall and grind themselves against her. A scream fell from her mouth.
But the next sounds that could be heard throughout the alley were the sounds of the two men screaming for their own lives, as they begged for me not to take them.
But I did. I knew if I didn't, they would just come back for her or attack another woman.
Well, you have suffered enough
And warred with yourself
It's time that you won
I was about to leave her there, not wanting her to see my face when I felt her hand on my arm. I didn't look at her, keeping my face down, with my hair covering my face.
"Please, let me see your face. I want to see the man who saved my life."
"Any decent person would have come in to help." I told her, still not looking at her.
"Yes, you did. Please let me know your name, see your face,anything."
I fought with myself if I wanted her to know my name, but she placed her hand on my chin as she stood in front of me. I looked into her eyes as she looked into mine.
She told me her name and gave me a soft smile.
"My name is Eric."
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sublimecatgalaxy · 2 years
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i love your work !! can you maybe write something with billy? like maybe the reader acted the whole day like a brat, teasing billy and now he gets to punish her and fuck the attitude out of her?😩
I like this... it's very hard for me to write super dom characters considering I, myself, have dominated every partner I've ever had 🤪
Fun fact about me that you didn't need to know😭😂 also not proofread cuz my head is pounding.
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First it was my hand resting on his thigh while he was driving us to school.
It was purely wholesome, that is until he glanced between my eyes and my fingers that scratched at the seam of his tight denim jeans. I hadn't realized what I had done had gotten his attention, enough for him to get beeped at by the guy behind us because we stalled too long at a red light.
Secondly, it was the fleeting glances that I was intentionally giving him every time we'd share a class or pass each other in the hall. I had promised Max that we'd try to be less gross in school, less all over each other but looking at him from afar- it was a sin to not be on him.
He also made a promise to Max that, since his life was almost lost at Starcourt mall over the summer, that he would try his best to prioritize things now that Neil was out of the picture and he was given a second chance. But that also meant not being late to class and not letting his girlfriend- me- make him late to history because she wanted to go down on him in the bathroom.
He was fuming and hard as a rock that whole class and I knew that I was going to be in for it the minute we were alone. But it's so hard to not get that reaction out of him when I know that I'm so damn good at it.
"You're really testing my patience, doll." Billy huffs, tossing his coat down onto his bed as I click the lock shut, gaining his attention. He smirks and looks down to where my hand rests on the doorknob, knowing in his mind that I had planned all of this.
"I'm just touchy today." I shrug, clasping my hands behind my back as I slowly step up to him, my chin tilting to gaze into his dark, murky eyes. He tuts, reaching up to cup my cheek but I don't let myself get fooled by his gentleness, knowing that it's all a facade. He lowers his face down to mine, his head tilting menacingly with a smirk.
"Get on the bed and strip."
A moment passes, my lips parting in shock, not expecting him to be so forward but after the shit I've put him through, it's well deserved. Making my way over to his bed, I strip from my clothes as he watches, his tongue sweeping out over his lips.
Without another word, he flips me onto all fours, sweeping my arms out from under me so my cheeks falls flat onto his mattress. I let out a small huff, tilting my chin to look back from him as he gropes my ass.
"You gonna behave now?" He asks, slapping his hand against the sensitive skin of my ass, a squeal escaping my lips and I nod quickly, pushing my hips back into him. I can feel how hard he is, how badly he wants me- just as much as I want him. "Startin' to think you wanted this. Acted like a slut all day just for me- just to get my attention, huh?" He asks breathlessly and I can hear him fiddling with his belt and I can practically taste the stretch of him sliding inside of me.
"Just wanted your attention." I whisper, gripping onto the sheets as he slides his tip against my slit before sliding into me, taking me completely off guard. I gasp and splutter out a moan, whimpering pathetically as he chuckles behind me.
"Well, you've got it, and I'm not gonna be nice."
-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o- Taglist: @bubblebuttwade @rafelover2405 @leslienjazzy @sorceresss @grxnde-dwt @alex–awesome–22 @bunnietoof @niyamar1e @serialghost @plantlungs @geniusohn @akaliltimmytim @lilaalouuxx @xshariex @elliotsbeigeguitar @elle4404 @lelieja @srhxpci @joselyn001 @taysirene @spinkspanther @thedivineuphoria @peter-maximoffs @tsukishimawhore @poohkie90 @szlaco @distantsighs @nstyles4299 @wolflover384 @givemefoodandlovesstuff @vane2828 @yeswhatever33 @amirrahfranson @vvaalleennttiinna @f-mu @yaspillz @jeyramarie @skylievin@abbybarnes17 @jointherebellion215 @visiondaddy @steezysimfinds @its-ya-gay-boi-luigi
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snowangeldotmp3 · 1 year
Text
'to the market'
(hello again, this is from another prompt requested by @fishwear ! i challenged myself to do all three prompts, so here's another! sorry it took so long heh, but i hope you enjoy, and thanks again for the prompt!)
32. markets x ronance - they go antiquing. nancy is obsessed with trying to hunt down valuables. she’s got her little antique pocket guide in her hands furiously checking stamps on china sets. meanwhile robin is having the time of her life to track down the ugliest, kitsch trinket in the whole store so she can annoy (amuse) nancy by displaying it proudly in their living room.
Robin was not a stranger to the many multitudes of Nancy Wheeler. After everything, nothing really surprised her about Nancy. Priss and a massive nerd. Badass and made Robin get rid of the spiders. Gorgeous and a gunslinger.
Serious Antiquing Nancy Wheeler, though, was something Robin can safely say she never expected.
Though it was quickly becoming her favorite.
It was adorable, the way Nancy was so passionate about it. And Robin had to admit, it was kind of fun.
(Mostly because Robin enjoys finding the most radioactive item in the antique store, keeping her own record of whatever she finds—Nancy refuses to let her bring it home—but that’s not the important part.)
What is important, is that Robin can say without a doubt, that antique malls were Nancy Wheeler’s favorite place in the world.
And specifically, the antique mall that was closest to their apartment. They’d been all over Boston, but nothing came close to this one. It was enormous, and Robin often found it hard to keep up with Nancy, who always had an open edition of Picker’s Pocket Guide and meticulously searched through every antique tea cup she could find. Robin’s job was usually to either hold Nancy’s guidebook, or use the black-light flashlight to search for radioactivity.
Which is the case for today. Nancy’s got her eye on another antique tea set, one that she’s been hunting for months now, bound and determined to find the damn things if it’s the last thing she does.
The stalls have changed since the last time they’d been there, new antiques (which is Robin’s favorite oxymoron now) from countless vendors all trying to get rid of all their old junk. Everything from dolls (creepy with a capital C) to paintings, old comics, and small clocks that Robin knows without a doubt have radium painted on the dial.
She is thankful, too, that it’s at least warm inside. The cold in Boston decided to have an extra bite to it today, and Robin maintains that they should’ve stopped for hot cocoa.
Nancy’s got her guidebook opened to the page she needs, hair tied up in a messy bun, bag thrown over her shoulder, and, most surprisingly, her glasses perched on her nose. It’s adorable. Nancy’s face scrunches up in thought, tongue darting out as she frantically writes something down in her book. She looks like a librarian, turtleneck under her lavender Emerson sweater and long skirt with pockets (Nancy’s favorite). She’s even tied her hair up with a matching lavender scrunchie.
Believe it or not, this is Nancy’s most casual look. She rarely wears her glasses out, but desperate times and all.
(It’s Robin’s favorite look. She only ever sees her this relaxed at home, and Robin’s mentally kicking herself for not bringing her Polaroid to get a picture of Nancy like this, in her element. Maybe some other time.)
“So,” Robin says, walking a half step behind Nancy to the first stall, “what teacup are we looking for? Is it even a teacup? Or is it another saucer?”
Nancy rolls her eyes as they find the wall of fine china. She searches for something in her tote, pushing her glasses up as they slide down her nose. “It’s a teacup this time, Robbie, I promise.” Nancy fishes a pen out of her bag, and then hands the book and pen to Robin with a small smile. “Hold this while I check the stamps on these? Please?”
And well, Robin can’t tell her ‘no’ when she’s got that spark in her eyes and that small, almost shy, smile.
Robin hums, tapping Nancy’s pen against her chin. “Well, I guess… since you asked so nicely.”
Nancy’s grin widens, stepping closer to give Robin a quick peck on her cheek. “Thank you,” she singsongs.
Robins rolls her eyes fondly as her face reddens. “Yeah, yeah. Anything for you, Nance.”
***
She should’ve expected that they’d be here all day. After all, Nancy was on a mission, and if it’s one thing Robin’s learned about being with Nancy, once she’s on a mission, she’s practically unstoppable.
Nancy had, after about an hour, released Robin to look at whatever she wanted, while Nancy continued to look at near-identical teacups. Though, Robin would’ve gladly stood there for another hour or two while Nancy searched for this mysterious cup.
Robin strolls down the stretch of stalls that are behind glass. Glassware, all with a faint greenish tint. Bingo.
Robin grabs the black-light from her jacket pocket, flicking it on and pointing it to the various bowls and vases, beaming the moment the stall lights up like a Christmas tree.
She steps closer, face close to the glass, but not too close. All this uranium glass in one spot is enough to create a hotspot.
One item in particular glows brighter than the others; a small bedside clock, shining a specific shade of radium green and for a moment, she really wishes Dustin were here with his Geiger counter, just to see how radioactive it is.
If Robin had to guess, the answer would be: extremely, given how bright the green is compared to the others.
She takes a cautious step back, away from the radioactive hotspot, taking out her own small notebook and jotting down the antique clock in her version of Nancy’s pocket guide and writes: Clock, Westclox, Big Ben. Radium. January 1989. Extremely radioactive.
Putting her notebook, pencil, and flashlight back into her pocket, Robin continues her stroll around the giant antique mall.
And then she spots it.
Like a cartoon, the clouds disappear just enough; the sun shining down on it, revealing itself in a holy light.
A stuffed opossum, wearing tiny sunglasses, holding a guitar in his tiny opossum paws.
Robin strides over to it and snatches it up, racing back to Nancy.
Nancy bumps into her halfway, eyebrows raised at Robin’s excited demeanor.
“Oh, hey Nance,” Robin says, a little out of breath, “didn’t see you there.” She shifts from foot to foot unconsciously, holding the stuffed opossum behind her back.
Nancy folds her arms over her chest, eyes narrowing. “What do you have?”
Robin smiles. Nancy does not. Robin shows her the taxidermied opossum. “Nance, we have to take him home.”
“Absolutely not,” Nancy says, making a face. “Where would we even put him? The living room? The bedroom? I’m not sleeping in the same room as that.” She points at it, face twisted in disgust.
Robin pouts, if only a little, to make a point. “Please, Nance?” She begs, watching Nancy’s resolve crack, if only for a second. “I’ve already named him. Plus, I know the perfect spot for him! You won’t have to worry about him in our room, pinkie swear.”
Nancy’s face softens, another crack in her resolve, and Robin knows she’s won. Nancy huffs, pinching her the bridge of her nose. “Fine. But only if you help me look for this stupid cup again.”
“Deal,” Robin beams, “thank you, Nance,” she mimics Nancy’s singsong voice from earlier. She leans down, planting a kiss to Nancy’s cheek, reveling in the way pink dusts across her cheekbones.
“Yeah, yeah,” Nancy mutters, taking Robin’s free hand and intertwining it with her own. “Anything for you, Rob.”
***
“It’s perfect!”
“It’s hideous.”
Robin gasps, “He is not! He’s charming. He brings the room together!”
“I still can’t believe I let you bring that thing into our apartment.” Nancy wrinkles her nose, leaning further into Robin as they sit on the couch, sipping hot cocoa and taking in the marvel that is the guitar playing opossum in their living room.
“Believe it, babe. Besides, if not for me and Franklin here, you wouldn’t have found your precious cup.” Robin nods to the teacup, now preciously displayed on one of Nancy’s shelves, and crosses her arms, grinning smugly at Nancy,
Nancy rolls her eyes, lightly swatting Robin’s chest. “Shut up, Buckley.”
“Make me, Wheeler,” she teases, poking at Nancy’s shoulder. “I’d do it again, though. Help you get your special cups, it’s just so cute. I’ve seen you run a gaggle of newspaper nerds before, but I don’t know Nance, I think you could make it as a professional antique collector.” Robin pauses, considering, “Is that even a real thing? It could be. You could be the first.”
Nancy giggles into her cocoa. “I’m glad you say that, actually, Robbie, because there’s this one teacup that would match this one really well and I think—”
Robin groans, unable to think about fine china any more than she already has, but she meant what she said. She’d do it again. Just to see that brilliant look on Nancy’s face.
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sweetestlamb · 2 years
Text
Another Bad Idea
Summary: Cha-young tries to get over Vincenzo by getting under someone else. It goes as well as you would expect.
Author's note: What am I even doing here honestly😩😭 someone liked my fic "Bad Idea" today and I started reading it again myself because I missed chayenzo and then I suddenly got this urge to write this....smutty filth instead of doing anything remotely reproductive. I loved how sweet this couple was in the show but honestly low key I kinda wanted them to be psychos in love and rip each other apart (romantically) so I wrote this.
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Ultimately she's the one to ruin their arrangement. She's never been able to resist temptation and at first she tries to convince herself that once was enough, she'd gotten it out of her system.
Except when he loosens his tie in the office and it's just them- another late night trying to find dirt on Babel's corruption- she can't help but watch the motion and think about how much she wishes that she was the one taking off his tie. She wanted to remove his tie with her teeth and then swallow him whole.
"See something you want?"
His voice had been mocking, teasing just like the little shit he had proved to be.
But he wasn't wrong, although she knew that any kind of real feelings just weren't allowed between them, fucking was different. Why did it need to be a one night stand when they both knew what they'd signed up for? They could fuck without crossing the line.
So in lieu of a verbal reply she walked over to the office door closed the door with an emphatic click before turning to face him.
"I have some thoughts I wouldn't mind you knocking out real good and hard."
His eyes glinted dangerously in the awful yellow lighting and as soon as he moved she was moving too, racing around a table to meet him half way. He tugged her roughly into his arms and she went willingly, gasping as he palmed her ass and pulled her into a bruising kiss that made her head spin.
He took her from behind right there on the table, his tie stuffed in her mouth barely smothering her moans the wet sound of them fucking loud in the quiet of the room.
She limped home with a satisfied grin on her face.
It's easy, having sex with Vincenzo. Usually she's the one to initiate but there are times when he stares at her so hard it feels like he's willing her clothes off her body.
It's easy because it means nothing.
Until that's not true any longer.
She's never been able to leave well enough alone. So of course she starts to see meaning in his little actions.
Holding her purse.
Bringing her coffee.
Sitting beside her on the couch because she struggles to fall asleep alone after the break in.
Sharing stories about her late father.
Sharing stories about his lost mother.
Coffee dates in the morning and drinks in the evening.
Soon they're hanging out, simply enjoying each other's company far more than they are doing the horizontal tango and she should have stopped it before things flew out of her control.
Before she ruined everything.
She groans loudly uncaring of the neighbors-they should be used to this by now- as he rocks into her slowly, they're face to face her legs wrapped around his waist and his hands tangled in her own. Tonight is different, neither are frantic or crazed each movement of his hips makes her exhale as she's drawn closer to her climax. Her third one tonight, he was such an overachiever in bed.
There's ringing in her ears as she succumbs to him and they've done this enough for her to know that he wasn't far behind her, gripping her thighs too tightly and thrusting just a bit too hard.
And as he's panting deep swallows of jagged breath into her neck she says, "Are you still leaving after we're done taking down Babel?"
She doesn't mean to. Definitely not here and not now but it's been on her mind. Each second that they spend in each other's company, she starts to.... imagine a world where they could be together.
Not just for sex. But really together.
His eyes widen as he stares at her, for the first time she sees fear in those cold eyes. He looks like he's staring at the barrel of a gun instead of his casual sex buddy.
He pulls out of her too quickly, she winces at the discomfort but remains perfectly still waiting for his reaction.
Watches him turn away, now sitting on the edge of his bed and she can see his answer in the rigid line of his shoulder before he ever speaks a word but nonetheless he answers her question, her real question.
"I don't think we should do this anymore." And then he tugs on his boxers and leaves her to her thoughts.
She doesn't cry. That would be too pathetic but the crack that formed when her mother passed and then her father grows larger, deeper and aches painfully.
It hurts to stay in the bed where they've been intimate so often but leaving and seeing him would hurt even more so she stays, blinking at the ceiling forcing red hot tears not to fall.
----------
He's never been good at sharing, too possessive of everything that he holds dear to share that with another. That included his clothes, his cars, his position in life and then he started to realize that it was extending to one particular person in his life.
She was an enigma to him, seemingly heartless and money hungry at first and while he cursed her for it secretly he admired it because it was real and authentic, the world was a cut throat piece of shit and good people hardly stayed that way for long.
But her father's dead seemed to melt away the facade she'd been cultivating. And he could see the scared little girl underneath the quirky too loud too attractive too everything lawyer.
It's too easy being around her. He doesn't realize that they've traversed passed colleagues and people who occasionally fuck each other's brains out until it's too late and he's wiping her tears as she cries drunkenly over drinks and fried meats.
His dick is still wet as he tells her they need to stop doing this and means it. This is not what he had came here to accomplish and he was the last thing she needed in this fucked up world, he couldn't make her happy didn't even know if he could be happy so it was right to let her go before things became even worst.
She was confusing carnal and emotional desires. He wasn't boyfriend material, it was laughable to even consider. He was nothing but an orphan and a murderer. She should aim for higher than someone like him.
But he still expects a battle. For her to give him the icy glares and scathing comments.
He's left waiting.
Cha-young is the picture of professionalism, easily moving back into their relationship before either of them knew what the other tasted like. He never catches her staring even though he can barely keep his eyes off of her, it's as if he dreamt the entire thing and there was nothing unusual between them to begin with.
This continues for weeks and he accepts that he was right, there were never any feelings involved and she had just been confused and time was the only thing necessary for her to realize her mistake.
They continue to fight Babel, suffering unimaginable losses and wins.
Everything is has it should be.
Then she starts showing up with makeup, nothing too noticeable but he notices because he's always looking at her.
Dark liner ringing those eyes.
Deep wine lipstick coating that mouth. A mouth that has devastated him until he was quaking in her arms.
He doesn't question her, has no right to even he knows that.
He hears the scrape of her chair, one wobbly wheel on the floor and tries to discreetly watch her walk away. Fights the urge to groan as she tosses her head back and scoops her thick hair up into a messy bun, her soft nape now on full display.
She leaves the room in a pantsuit, much like he's used to seeing her wear but returns in a dress that makes his mouth dry and his hands twitch.
It's short and tight, fitting around her slim body perfectly hugging the dip of her thin waist and the light curve out of her hip. And while the dress is sexy in an unassuming way, mostly because she's a gorgeous woman who would look good in anything, there is no skin showing she's completely covered up and he thanks all deities for that. But then she strides over to her desk and turns her back retrieving her jacket and phone and that's when almost forgets to breathe.
Her naked back stares him in the eyes.
A split that starts from the top of her spine and stops just above her tailbone.
He wants to bound across the room and lick a line down her spine, watch the goose pimples raise on that delicious delicate skin and hear those breathy broken gasps as he tugs the offending dress off her body and lets his tongue travel down, down further.
Then it disappears behind her coat. And he slams back to reality and her assessing eye, she stares at him for a moment too long before that placid smile he's tired of seeing thrown his way returns to her face.
"I'm going to head out first. Good work today. Oh and I won't be in tomorrow."
She never takes any days off. He had thought he was a workaholic until he met her. He tries his hardest to keep his voice level, "Did something happen? Are you okay?"
What was she doing and why hadn't she told him about her plans? He almost feels betrayed that something could be happening in her life that he doesn't know about. They were always the other's confidant.
"Oh it's nothing serious. I just need a personal day to sort some things out."
He should just leave it alone, she's being vague and it's frustrating but she doesn't owe him anything he knows that but he still hears himself say, "What things, tell me!" He hears the anger and command in his voice and unlike everyone else he's encountered who cower in the face of his ire, she gets ignited too instead her own rage burning in her eyes.
"Do I have to answer to you now?" She bites out, snatching her purse and rushing to the door her hair cascading from the precarious bun she placed it in.
"Stop being stubborn. I'm just worried about you." He calls it to her retreating back.
She scoffs at him, too many emotions washing over her face nearly impossible for him to pinpoint them all.
"Well don't. I'll be someone else's problem tonight."
And then she's gone and he almost wishes that she had slammed the door instead of quietly shutting it.
He goes home.
Because it's not his business, she is not his business. He should happily let her be someone else's problem.
But it doesn't take much to pull up her social media and see her posts, she's bright eyed in all her videos dancing chaotically with a drink in her hand and then he almost drops his voice when he hears an unfamiliar voice in the background.
"Damn babe. You look so hot tonight. Come home with me."
And then the video cuts off and he's left sitting alone in his living room with only murderous rage to keep him company.
He's dressed- all black head to toe- and out the door before he can think about what he's doing.
------------
She has no idea where her date went and honestly she doesn't even care. It was clear that he wanted to fuck her and that was all she needed, to reclaim her body and stop the dreams about a certain Italian that she shouldn't be thinking about.
They were done and his little fit in the office today meant nothing. He was a control freak, and she knew that her suddenly disappearing would try him wild merely because he liked knowing what she was doing. It was pathetic but it made her feel for a second that he actually cared about her. It was fake but she didn't care.
She dances harder as the music switches to something she's never heard before, a soulful voice crooning in English and while she doesn't understand the words the rhythm speaks clearly.
And it feels so good (and that's what takes me highhhhh...) your love it keeps me aliveeeee.....
The energy in the room is hypnotizing and as she feels a large hand wrapping around her waist she doesn't fight the embrace, allowing herself to be pulled until her back is pressed firmly against a solid chest.
"You're the sexiest woman in this room. I couldn't stay away, I hope you don't mind."
His voice is nice, she ignores the voice in her head that says it's not deep enough or stilted enough.
She tosses her hair over her shoulder to get a good look at her new companion's face and she's content with him, he has a square jaw and thin lips but more importantly he doesn't remind her of anyone and she only feels a mild attraction to him.
He's safe. And she needs that more than ever now.
"No. I don't mind at all. Dance with me?"
He nods eagerly and she loses herself in the music, grinding her ass into the mild sway of his hips and when he grips her waist she has to force out the face that flashes in her mind.
No. I won't think about him. I don't care about him.
Thankfully her partner doesn't notice her mind wandering and he's gasping behind her, pulling her tighter against his body and she can feel his cock suddenly right there on her ass cheek, can feel how riled up she's making him and how utterly unaffected she is by him in return.
But she had no plans of stopping, she still had an itch and surely he could scratch it even if he couldn't completely sate it. She had to do it to prove to herself that she was fine. Even if she didn't enjoy it, just being able to do it was enough. She needed to be in control.
Alcohol would make it easier, she just needed more alcohol so she could let this stranger screw her brains out and forget about the one who wanted nothing to do with her.
"Get me a drink." She commands, dipping her body low before teasingly dragging her ass back up his body in a clear promise.
He immediately gets the message, fondling her before rushing away to obey her in the hopes that she'll make good on her promise.
She feels hot and sweaty, so she reaches behind herself to grip her hair a second time today pulling the wet tresses away from her overheated neck sighing as the cool air hits her skin.
She's lost in her own world, so she misses the sudden chatter around her. Women and men parting around her as a new predator enters the fray, she's dancing with her arms still holding her hair above her head when she feels a little touch on her neck, just a gentle brush but it sparks like static and makes her jump, spinning around to face her intruder.
---------
He spots her right away, dancing alone in the middle of the floor completely unencumbered by the eyes watching her with lust, envy and jealousy.
He's never seen her like this. Never knew that she could be so intentionally sexy. So seductive.
Her movements are fluid, more sensual than he expects from her on the dance floor. Her hands are in constant motion, smoothing over her breasts, hugging her hips, lifting and dropping her hair and it's pure torture to watch her touch herself when the hands on her body should be his.
And then his vision flares red when someone approaches her and to his disgust she welcomes the interruption. Allows someone else touch her and rub their body against her, he growls as she thrusts her pert little ass against a stranger's crotch and lets him hump her like a fucking dog in heat.
He starts moving, pushing people who get in his way and others start to take notice of him, jumping out of his war path. Women reach out to touch him but he swats their hands away, too focused to be deterred for even a minute.
By the time he gets there she's alone again but the image of someone else touching what's his is still burned in his mind.
He reaches out to touch her, scared of the unbridled rush of jealousy and anger that are warring inside of him.
Instantly she jolts at his touch, as if his touch is unwelcomed but that bastard's wasn't. He wants to knock all the other man's teeth out and make him regret ever touching his woman.
"What? What are you doing here?" She has to shout to be heard above the music.
He stares her down instead of replying, annoyed with her drunk stagger and how red her cheeks are. Secretly he doesn't want to admit that he's terrified about what would have happened if he didn't follow her here tonight.
"Who the fuck was that?" He ignores her question, instead firing off one of his own.
She bristles at his tone, glaring right back into his eyes before turning on her heel and walking away.
He is too flabbergasted to move but then she starts to disappear into the crowd and he refuses to let her out of his sight. He takes huge strides, closing the distance between them in four large steps. He decides against grabbing her wrist and intercepts her escape, stepping in front of her.
"You!" She points right in his face, "Shouldn't be here. I don't need a babysitter so just leave me alone."
He doesn't back down, squaring his shoulders and stepping into her space until he can feel her breath and the heat radiating from her body.
"You are the one who shouldn't be here. Who the hell were you letting touch you? I'll kill him."
It's scary how badly he means every word, he wants to kill anyone who has ever looked at her with ill intention, yearns to gauge their eyes out with a rusty spoon.
"That's the guy I'm going to let fuck me tonight! You won't do anything to him, just mind your business!"
He stares at her in full wonder. And then it fades to indescribable rage. He could burn this club to the ground right here and now and it still wouldn't be enough.
"What the fuck did you just say to me? I dare you to say that again." He trembles from all the fury building up inside, hovering above her with a dark sneer twisting his lips.
She has no sense of self preservation. Grins at him.
Grins. Like they are having a nice chat.
"You heard me. I found your replacement. So you can go away. I don't need you anymore."
The words are like slaps in the face, she was discarding him for a nameless quick fuck.
It hurt. It's hard not to grab at his chest and see if his heart is even still beating.
And then the very asshole who couldn't keep his hands to himself returns, happy and eager with a drink in his hand and she shoots him this coy little smile his way as if they have a secret and he can't handle it. He decks the other man so hard that he collapses with a single blow, the drinks flying in the air before crashing to the floor in a sticky mess.
He hardly fights the bouncer as he's removed from the establishment, thrown out on his ass and banned from ever returning.
He stays on the ground. His knuckles bruised but not bleeding. He wants to make them bleed. He needs the pain.
"You had no right to punch him."
He lifts his head and her anger about this insignificant asshole reignites his own rage.
"Are you that hungry for a fuck? Are you that fucking thirsty for it?"
"Yes! I'm that hungry! I want to someone to fuck me blind so I won't think about my father or Babel or yo--!!"
She slams her hand over her mouth, shoving the words back into her throat but it's too late. He already knows what she was going to say.
"Me. You don't want to think about me."
"No I don't! You said we should stop this, you pushed me away. You did all that so why are you here pretending you give a shit about what I do or who I fuck? What does any of it have to do with you?"
The words explode from her chest, even the persistent thumping from the club isn't enough to block her exclamation.
He watches her in surprise, that only builds as she suddenly starts to cry before brutally swiping away the tears and shoving past him.
He watches her leave in disbelief.
Why was she crying? She shouldn't be crying over him. It didn't make any sense unless she..... unless this was more than sex. Unless her asking that question was more than her accidentally blurring the lines.
It wasn't the first time she asked him that. But it was the scariest time because he couldn't answer her. Knew exactly what he was supposed to say but looking at her sleepy sated face he forgot all the reasons why they shouldn't be together.
So he did push her away. It was what was best for both of them or so he convinced himself because he was just a criminal and she deserved more. So why was he here fighting her and attacking men for touching her?
What the fuck am I doing?
When he blinks back to reality she's already halfway across the parking lot, climbing into her car and he races after her she was in no condition to drive.
"Hey! You're too drunk to drive!"
He grabs the driver's door before she can close it and returns her glare.
"I'm fine. Just mind your busin--"
"You are my business."
She gapes at him and he stares back unflinching, who was he kidding? It was hardly too late. Putting distance between them did nothing but make him want her more.
"No. No, I'm not. Let go of my door." She pulls the handle but he's stronger and eventually she gives up with an annoyed sigh. He crouches down, needing to see her eyes when he says this.
"I was wrong."
She stills, staring out the windshield. Not daring to look at him.
"I'm.... sorry."
That makes her look at him. Her face scrunching up again and he can't bare to see it so he reaches out to cup her face and pull her closer to him, kissing the tears that fall down her cheeks.
Without warning he tugs her up out of her seat, sitting down himself before pulling her into his lap.
She tucks her face into his neck and he caresses the naked skin that peeks out the back of her dress, in broad rough strokes. He preens when she starts to melt into his hold but then she pushes away from him, bringing them face to face again.
"I didn't mean to. I tried to stop myself from....I thought if I did it with someone else I could free myself from my feelings for you."
"...... Would you have gone through with it?" It's a dumb question to ask because the fire is finally settling and her answer could possibly set him off again but he has to know, just how close had she come.
She stares him right in the eye with no shame.
"I would have done it."
He wants to go back and rip that bastard apart.
"Stop. I would have done it and thought of you the entire time and hated myself. It wouldn't have meant anything."
Logically he knows that she's right, he has had sex with countless women and not even remembered their name the next day but it still kills him that he almost pushed her to the edge, because he was too scared to admit his feelings.
But deeper beneath that self blame he's angry at her. For daring to look at anyone else, letting them touch her and even dream of fucking her. He's so angry he could.....
He picks her up unceremoniously and dumps her into the backseat, climbing out of the car feeling like a wild animal on the prowl even more so as she stares up at him, quivering in place.
He yanks the door open and pounces on her, biting at her neck with unforgiving teeth.
"You were going to let him do this? Touch what's mine?"
She moans loudly as he pinches her nipple through the thick material of her dress, rougher than he's ever been with her.
"I'm not you-"
He cuts her off with a hard bite, teeth sinking into her neck so hard that he knows that it'll leave a mark. It'll be a gentle reminder to others that she was off limits.
"Shhhhh don't piss me off." He whispers into her skin and she huffs but lifts up her ass when he sneaks a hand under her dress and tugs at the flimsy material.
"Fuck!" She cries, scrambling as he shoves a finger inside of her as far as it'll go and then pulls it out only to penetrate her again with a punishing force.
She claws and tries to get away from him but his other hand is firm on her hips, holding her in place as he pistons his fingers inside of her clenching pussy.
"Where are you going? We're just getting started."
She swallows hard at the devilish look on his face.
-------
She feels delirious from the pleasure rushing through her blood streams.
She'd never had anyone dismantle her the way he was doing right now, ignoring her argument that they would get caught he'd yanked her legs in the air and began hungrily feasting on her body, tonguing into her wet folds, biting at the junction between thigh and groin, and speaking filthy words right into her abused hole.
"Look at this wet pussy, all of this is mine. Every drop was made for my tongue. You were made for my fingers, my tongue, my cock."
This shouldn't turn her on this neanderthal like display but at least to herself she can admit that she loves it, loved seeing him jealous because she was looking at someone else. Shivers had run up her spine as she watched him punch someone for daring to touch her, she had no intention of fucking anyone else but this was payback for all the times he ignored her question and pretended that this wasn't more than sex. 
He's fucked up but so is she.
"Then fuck me already. Show me who I belong to."
He noses at her clit, groaning into her quivering center twisting the fingers that he has lodged deep inside of her before reappearing with a wolf like grin.
She lowers her legs to the side and raises to meet him. His face is wet because of her and she can't resist tugging him closer and licking her flavor from his lips.
"You're filthy." He says with an air of reverence that almost makes her laugh.
"You love it."
And then they're kissing, all tongue and teeth she pries his mouth open and sucks his tongue into her mouth.
It had been weeks since they last kissed, she was starved for him.
She distracts him with the kiss as she reaches down to his zipper, dragging the metal down and slipping her hand into his expensive boxers.
"If my pussy is yours, then this is mine."
She strokes him from root tip, using the precum that has collected there to smooth the way and he groans into her mouth, biting at her lip then soothing the pain with his tongue.
"I need to be inside you now. I've been thinking about this since I saw you in that dress earlier today."
She clamors into his lap in the tight space of the backseat, rearranging them until his cock is at her entrance and she's gazing down at him like he's the center of her universe.
"Vincenzo?"
She whispers his name, feeling his bulbous head pushing past her resistance as he sinks deeper into her body. She whimpers at the intrusion, he's bigger than she's used to but the burn is welcome, she wants to feel every inch of him penetrating her, breaking her.
"Shit!....yes?"
She holds his face as she sinks the rest of the way, her wet folds opening up around him before he bottoms out with a loud groan and a smack to her ass.
"Stay with me."
He freezes at her plea but she doesn't give him a chance to respond, planting her knees and lifting up before dropping back down onto his waiting cock that sinks even deeper than before, the loud smack bouncing off the car walls.
"Stay with me. Don't leave me. I need you. I need you . Stay. Stay."
He wraps his arms around her back pulling her ever closer, while thrusting up to meet her downward pushes. He pulls her in his tight embrace, warming her heart even as he fucks her so hard that her teeth grind.
"Not going anywhere. This pussy is mine, your heart is mine. You, are mine. I never leave mine behind."
She cries at out a particularly hard thrust that sends her flying up before he grips her hips and crashes them back together, she can feel the car shaking and hear voices outside wondering what's going on but she doesn't care.
She loses the ability to speak, dissolving into squeaks and loud pants as she feels her body tightening in anticipation.
"Fuck! You're too tight. I'm about to pass out. Your greedy little hole is eating me whole."
She nods eagerly in his lap, too fucked out to argue with anything he has to say.
She's limp in his arms, allowing him to thrusts into her and pull her down to meet him in hard pounds. She's so close.....just a little more.
"Yes! Right there! I'm so close!"
"Open your eyes. I want to see you when you come on my cock."
She can't and then his fingers are there prying her eyes open and she can't see anything because they're rolling into the back of her head and everything is bright, hazy and she's coming harder than she ever has in her life. She can barely hear him in the background.
"Shit! Fuck! You're squeezing me so tight, I can't hold on. Fuck! Ugh!"
-----------
"I can't believe you didn't wear a condom. I can't believe I didn't notice. Are we actually crazy?"
He can't focus not with his come leaking out of her and onto the poor seat. He knows that cleaning it is not going to be cheap but right now it's so worth it.
"Are you serious! Stop looking at it like some creep!" She slams his arm, hard and that gets his attention finally.
"I lost my head there a bit. I couldn't think straight."
She sighs, picking her panties up from the floor and grimacing as she slides them back on.
"Ugh, so cold. I need a shower, now."
He can't agree more, but at the same time he wants to keep her just like this, covered in his come and leaking his seed.
"Things are going to get worst before they get better." He knows that she's knows he's talking about Babel and this fight they've signed up for. "Are you sure you can handle me? Once you're mine I'm never going to let you go."
He's never been good at sharing and he doesn't want to get good, not with this. Not with her.
"Is that supposed to scare me away?"
Honestly. Yes, the drive to possess her was always there just under his skin. And it would make him crazier, if anyone ever hurt her they wouldn't live long enough to regret the day.
"I'm not scared of you Vincenzo. I'm yours because I chose to be so and now you're mine too. Everyone else should be scared."
There was a time that he feared that being with him would poison her, taint her goodness but watching that evil grin spread across her lips he realizes that her darkness was already there, just below the surface.
And it doesn't scare him either.
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queenjunoking · 1 year
Text
Wolf Taming 62
CW: Non-con - asphyxiation - pain - implied body horror
I wanted her to stop touching me.
Briar had been silent since Bridget walked away. She just stood behind me while she hummed and brushed my hair. I wanted to smack her hands away, but the drug was still paralyzing my muscles. I could do nothing but look forward and look at myself in the mirror. Looking like some kind of doll Briar was dressing up. I hated wearing bright colors like this.
“I can recognize you’re upset.” Briar’s voice wasn’t condescending. That would have been  better. It was the voice of a doctor trying to talk to me. I remember the tone well enough for the one session I had with a therapist on campus when I was in college. I hated how it sounded. “It must be strange to be like this. Ragdoll was your invention, regardless of whether you discovered it by accident or not. No one thinks they’ll be on the receiving end of something like that.”
“Maybe you ought to try it.” I made eye contact with her in the mirror and glared at her. It fell a bit short when she hit another snag in my hair and I flinched. “Would shut you up for a few minutes at least.”
“It’s cute that you think you can be threatening right now. Maybe you were the big scary breaker to the victims you tortured in your custom made room, but right now all I can see in the mirror is a cute girl in a pretty yellow dress.” She leaned down so her face was right next to mine and smiled. “A pretty girl who is completely helpless to do anything by herself. Ragdoll is pretty amazing, isn’t it? I could just walk out that door and come back in two days and you’ll still be here. Probably sitting in a puddle. Flora would probably be upset if you ruined one of her chairs though.”
I knew enough to recognize a threat when I heard one. The contract required that I get breaks. I’d get plenty of those if I was just left here a few days on my own. It would probably be an easier time than being actively tortured, but days without food and water while being left alone with my thoughts was also its own kind of torture.
I was spared having to answer by a knock at the door. Briar gave my hair a few more strokes with the brush before she put it down and went to answer the door. I couldn’t see the hallway from here, but I could heard them.
“Miss Briar, I have fetched the wheelchair.” There was a weird pause before Bridget kept talking. “This was the one the staff said would be best?”
“Thank you Bridget.” I wear the two walk back towards me, the wheelchair coming into view as well.
It was oddly plush. The cushions looked comfortable, something I had a hard time believing that Rayne or Flora would bother getting. There were straps on the arm and footrests. They were most likely there to make sure a slave that was being taken somewhere couldn't try to run. 
“Alright, Zoe.” Briar set the wheelchair to the side and walked up to me. “Let's go for a walk.”
I did my best to stay calm as she picked me up again. She carefully placed a hand under my legs and back and transferred me over to the wheelchair. Despite my inability to run, Briar placed my feet on the foot rests and tightened the straps. She didn’t bother with my hands though, she folded them in my lap instead.
“There, now you’re sitting pretty and your feet won’t bounce off the foot rest if we hit a bump.” She smiled at me before moving behind the wheelchair. “Bridget, wait in that chair.”
“Yes, Miss Briar.” Without hesitation Bridget sat back down in her chair and started to stare off into space.
Briar turned off the lights as she left, leaving Bridget sitting in darkness. It didn’t seem likely that she’d care though.
Briar wheeled me through the house, trying to find the best route to get me to the first floor. Eventually she gave up and carefully brought me and the wheelchair down the stairs step by step. My hands had bounced to the side on the way down the stairs, something Briar unfortunately noticed and quickly put me back to the way I was.
A maid saw us walking towards the garden and quickly went to the door to open it. Briar nodded in acknowledgement to her. It was probably the most acknowledgement a slave got in this house. Being acknowledged meant you were on Rayne and Flora’s radar, something none of them wanted.
As much as I hated Flora, even I couldn’t deny her garden was beautiful. True to her name she had a green thumb and had a strange way of getting plants to grow in the most adverse of conditions. Her special rose “statues” proved that. Men and women strapped in various kinds of bondage with thorny rose vines growing around them. Seeing some of the flower placements could only leave me to assume the true extent of these art pieces. It was a sickening thought.
“Not much for the decor, but the flowers are nice, aren’t they?” Briar said as she aimlessly pushed me along the garden path.
“Yeah, lovely.” I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. I really didn't want to be in any space that Flora designed. “We went outside. Are we done?”
“You rarely take the time to smell the flowers, Zoey.” Briar said as we stopped next to a bench. “I’ve seen you work yourself until you collapsed on many occasions. You aren’t being whipped. You’re not being alone in the dark with your own thoughts.” She walked around to the front of the wheelchair, crossed her arms, and looked down at me. “Why not just enjoy the moment and be thankful I’m not doing anything to you?”
“Don’t give me that bullshit.” I growled, trying my best to look up at her. It wasn’t easy without control of my neck. “I’m here because of you. You’re currently pissing me off. Currently my problems are because of you!”
“I’m sorry, Zoey. You’re adorable, but sometimes I think you really are an idiot.” Briar sighed as she fished something out of her pocket.
“What the fuck does that me-?”
My words were cut off as Briar quickly shot her hand out and pressed her thumb and middle finger to my cheeks. It held my mouth open mid-sentence. I couldn’t even bite down on her fingers, I’d have to bite through my cheek to do so.
“What I’m saying, Zoe.” Briar said as I watched her reach towards my mouth with her other hand. “Is that virtually all your problems are self-inflicted.”
I felt something touch my tongue and she finally let go. I tried to scrape it off, but it was like goo stuck to my tongue.
“You’re surprisingly childish, Zoey. For many reasons really. But the one thing I learned about you when you lived as a breaker at the auction house is that you have a very limited palate when it comes to food.” Briar shrugged as she sat down on the bench in front of me. She showed me the thing she had fished out of her pocket. It looked like one of those tiny boxes you got breath strips in. “You ate a lot of simple things. You always avoided anything spicy.”
Almost on cue I felt my mouth beginning to burn. A tingle at first, but then it continued to get more and more unbearable.
“The hellfire’s kiss was never really the kind of spicy for enjoying though. It’s the kind of spice only meant to hurt.” She shook the tiny red container. “I found someone who had made them into these breath strip things. It’s so much more compact and easy to carry than those spray bottles. I didn’t want to have to use it. I wanted to just go for a nice walk through the garden. But you had to keep doing the same thing you always do and make things difficult.”
I couldn’t stop myself from hyperventilating. I could take the whippings if I had too. Sleep deprivation was nothing I had never inadvertently done to myself. Most things I was sure I could stand. I had no way to brace myself against the burning in my mouth. It kept getting worse. It quickly spread from my tongue, to my entire mouth, to my throat when salvia dripped back down.
“Zoey, sweetie, you’re drooling.” Briar sighed dramatically as she pulled out a napkin and wiped away the spit. “It would be a shame if you ruined your dress.”
“Fuck you!” I finally screamed. I desperately tried to get my limbs to agree with me. To let me move. To do anything to stop it.
“Oh, Zoey.” Briar shook her head. “Screaming and cursing are such childish responses. Even your victims were capable of asking for help. You obviously didn’t give it to them, but they asked.”
I watched as she pulled a tiny spray bottle out of her pocket. She leaned forward, opened my left hand, put the bottle in it and then sat back again. She didn’t look smug. She looked at me the way I imagined a scientist would a mouse when studying its behavior.
“You think you can do everything yourself? That’s some elixir. A few sprays in your mouth will stop that burn pretty quickly. A lot of your victims begged for the same thing. They just wanted that burning to stop. I bet it's still getting worse as we speak. Now you’re experiencing the same thing. The only difference between you and them is that I gave you the bottle.” That neutral look finally turned into a smirk. “So why aren’t you using it?”
She was right, it was getting worse. I could feel it in my lungs. Every breath hurt. The screams always told me how effective the spray was to use on the slaves I was breaking. Their screams undersold how much it truly burned.
“Please.” My throat ached as I said it. My throat felt like a desert. It felt like it was ripping apart as I talked.
“Hm? What was that Zoey?”
“Please!” I was struggling to breathe.
Briar leaned forward and grabbed the bottle of elixir from my hand. “Open your mouth, Zoe.”
The relief was almost instant. It felt like a cool breeze wafting across my tongue. It coated my mouth. I felt it rush into my lungs when I breathed in, quelling their fire.
I had tried so hard since I got here to play the game. I suffered through Flora’s stupid birthday party and everything that brought. I agreed to their damn terms to help me. I ended the career of another stupid breaker. Suffered through a whipping by Rayne.
But this was what finally brought me to tears. That made me beg. A damn breath strip put on my tongue while we sat in the garden.
“Good girl, Zoey.” Briar said, putting the cap back on the elixir bottle. “See how much better life is when you ask me for help instead of thinking you can do things for yourself?”
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navar44 · 2 years
Text
A Chance to Talk
A bit of writing based on @aaytaro-gt ‘s Inktober prompt list.
Day 19 - Vampire
Oops, another sequel: Hunted
==
Dear journal,
It's been four months since I last dug you up to leave an entry. I’m sorry I didn’t warn you in advance, I just didn’t want those three pyromaniacs to find you and burn you to a crisp.
I don’t know what I’d do without this method of… venting.
Well, where to start? Since my last entry, most of those hunters have dwindled down to nothing. The only constant threats are the pyromaniac archers and the two on horseback.
I hate those burning bastards with a burning passion, last time I almost
Words are smudged and scratched out
I buried you here when they last showed up, and I’m glad they didn’t try and dig you up or anything. The spot was pretty obvious! Still, I haven’t seen those three in weeks, so I figured I should come get you.
And something happened the other night? It's hard to understand really, my mind felt fuzzy for a bit afterwards and I just want to get this written down before I forget.
So, I was camping on the western edge of the highlands, as far from the village in the pass as I could be. I didn’t want them to see the smoke from my fire, it would be a dead giveaway, and I needed the warmth.
Winters here have been getting colder and colder, and while my blankets have kept me warm so far these past years, they’re getting a bit worn down now.
I miss warm blankets.
Anyway, as I was sitting there, staring at my fire, one of the tiny people wandered into my camp. I didn’t spot him at first, but his pale skin and pitch-black clothes gave him away once my mind stopped wandering.
He was a ways away, about five or so inches tall, but I could still feel his gaze. His eyes were… hypnotizing? It's hard to say. That's about when my mind started to get a little hazy.
But I thought to myself “what if they have wizards now, is he casting a spell on me?”, so I started to stand up, trying to pry my eyes off of his gaze when suddenly he just appeared, inches from my face.
I could make out every feature of his face, with him that close to my eyes. That said, I don’t remember much. His hand was on the bridge of my nose, and we had a staring contest. 
That's basically the last coherent memory I have of that weird fellow, I wonder what
“I suppose I must have seemed quite strange, hmm?”
~
I jumped, dropping both my journal and pen on the ground as I scrambled away from the voice that had been directly in my ear.
My eyes scanned the darkening woods around the clearing I’d made a while back, but…
“Sorry for frightening you. I assure you; I mean no harm.” The voice said into my ear once again, and I whipped my head to the side, finally spotting the strange, pale man from the other night on my shoulder.
My breath caught in my throat, heart hammering in my chest. How had I not heard him? Or felt him? What-
“Allow me to start over, miss giantess.” His voice had an accent I couldn’t place, and I mulled that over in my panicking mind as he floated off my shoulder and onto the forest floor.
I simply stared at him with wide eyes, frozen in place. He stood on my journal, looking up at me before bowing curtly. “I am Lord Dakar, administrator of the northern baronies under King Klandest of the Larindar Union of Kingdoms.”
He- this Dakar- straightened up once again, looking me in the eyes. Unlike that other night, I didn’t feel dizzy or light-headed from his gaze, just unnerved. 
Dakar cleared his throat. “I understand that you have been alone here for some time, but I mean you no harm.”
He waved a hand at the forest. “Two weeks ago I received word that some giant creature had attacked and injured a party of the Hunter’s guild. After some investigation, I learned that they have been after you for a few years now, and that was the first time you had fought back.”
My heart still hammered in my chest, a blush rushing to my ears. I hadn’t even meant to hurt that pyromaniac, I just knocked him aside with my foot when he ran at my bag with that torch…
The Lord waved a hand. “Do not look so ashamed, those three are fools who thought they could hide the truth from me. The truth being that you are not the “creature” or “monster” that they sold to others to justify hunting you; you are a person trapped by your fearsome size.”
“I only had to ask around the village for a day before I found a few hunters who had given up their hunt, one of whom told me that you rescued him, and advised me of the situation.”
His eyes returned to mine, locking on for a moment before softening. “I do apologize for the other evening. I knew you did not speak our language, so I peered into your thoughts to learn yours. You have a sturdy mind, hence your discomfort when I overpowered you.”
He bowed again. “Again, my apologies.”
A few seconds of silence passed as I stared at him, my mind just attempting to process a conversation again after so many months. He read my mind? What?
Dakar cleared his throat, raising a brow. “While I understand you have not held a proper conversation since your arrival, I would appreciate it if you would say something.”
“Adriana.” I practically spit out before sputtering. I bit my lips a moment as the little lord waited patiently.
“My name is Adriana.”
“A pleasure to meet your acquaintance, Miss Adriana. I’m sure you have questions, and I will do my best to answer them.”
I blinked, my heart finally steadying down after racing in my chest for the past few seconds. What questions did I have? Many, many questions; too many to count, let alone ask in a reasonable amount of time.
I’d start simple then.
“Why is- why were they after me? Why were they hunting me?”
Lord Dakar sighed, nodding. “An understandable question. To put it simply, the party that had called in an injury, demanding I bring you down myself, had thought of using you to make a name for themselves.”
“You are quite large, and they thought that they could… I’m not sure the saying passes into your tongue, but they thought they could ‘carve their name from your hide’, so to speak.”
He smiled reassuringly up at her. “Those three are currently in my custody, and will be on trial for several accounts of attempted murder and arson.”
I nodded slowly, taking the info in. It was those three then, that had put me through hell these past few years…
Still, I had an answer, but that just raised more questions. How could four people make a call like that? Where did the others come from? What is this “Hunters guild”?
I settled on a different question that had burned my mind when the Lord started talking to me, pushing the others to the side for now. “How did you read my mind? How are you speaking English?”
He chuckled, baring his teeth in a humorous, sharp, smile. “Miss giantess, I am a vampire! I can do many things.”
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Text
The whisperer: Part 10 (Wally Clark Fic)
I heard a gentle knocking on my door and groaned. Connor knew better than to knock on my door when I had a migraine which meant that it was one of my ghosties. Yes I understand that I told them to come and visit me with their tokens and especially if I was sick but I certainly didn’t think it was going to be the next day nor did I think it would be when I had a migraine. I was going to have to figure out a way to signal to them when I had a migraine.
“Mo? You in here? Dawn said she didn’t see you come to school and got worried.” Dear Jesus please anyone but Wally because the last thing I need right now is trying to get myself off because I have a migraine. “I think she forgot she can come and check on you with the headband.”
“m under here.” I mumbled and very weakly raised the blanket so he could see that I was nestled under all the covers. He took off his shoes and pulled the blanket back before scooting in next to me like he had been doing it for years. Not that I was complaining but sir where do you get the confidence to do that.
“Jesus Mo you look like shit.” His chin was resting on top of my head so he could whisper it and I could still hear him. I let out a bitter laugh.
“Gee Wally you really do know how to woo girls don’t you?” I smacked his arm and he caught my wrist in heist hand while he slid his body down so his mouth was right by my ear. Hopefully he couldn’t feel my pulse pick up in my wrist.
“I could absolutely woo you if I was trying, I probably do it without trying.” And I swear I must be hallucinating things with my migraine because it felt almost as if he had traced the shell of my ear with his tongue. “Why arent you at school?”
“I’ve got a migraine, which is weird because I haven’t had one since I officially met all of the spirits.” I looked up and saw Wally had a frown on his face. “ What is it?”
“There’s a new girl, Maddie. She showed up last night but she’s different. She doesn’t remember how she died.” Well I supposed most ghosts do remember how they died maybe she got hit in the head and that’s how she died. I didn’t want to think about it too hard because hearing Wally say some other girls name was mildly irritating and I didn’t like that feeling considering I had no right to feel that way.
“Tell me a story.” I’m pretty sure I caught both of us off guard but I didn’t really care. I didn’t want him to talk about Maddie anymore and I was sleepy and liked the sound of Wally’s voice.
“What kind of story do you want me to tell?” His mouth had gone back to resting by my ear and his fingertips glided effortlessly from my shoulder down my arm to my hip. Fuck I was going to moan out loud if he kept doing that but that was probably his plan. Maybe Wally was just a flirt, it’s not like he had shown actual interest.
“Tell me one about you, I don’t have any preferences.” He chuckled a little bit and continued stroking my side and it felt so fucking good. All I had to do was take his hand and move it a couple of inches and he would be touching my pussy. But I didn’t have the courage, and he was waiting for me to make the first move.
“Well there’s one in particular I want to tell you but now isn’t the right time. Nor are you well enough to hear it. Do you know about how I died?” Well damn Wally way to kill a semi sexual mood. I shook my head no and scooted closer to him throwing my leg over his hip.
“Are you going to tell me?” He squeezed my hip roughly before resuming his rubbing and gave me a light smile.
“It was my senior year homecoming, I had hurt my knee and coach wanted me to sit the rest of the game out. But as my mom liked to remind me being on the bench didn’t earn scholarships. I really didn’t think it was in my best interest to go back into the game either but she made heckle coach until he put me back on the field, but I never came back off the field of that game. My neck was broken during a tackle play, died on the field.” I didn’t even realize I was crying until Wally was wiping my tears away, I looked up at him and he was crying a little too. “Are you going to tell me how you can see and talk to me now, an apparently cuddle me?” I instantly stiffened and tried to get away from him but he held me tight and I couldn’t wiggle myself away. “I figured you knew exactly how you could but didn’t want to share because it was probably traumatic with how hostile you were acting, and I was right.”
“That’s fucked up Wally, you what show up when I don’t feel good, tell me about your death and then hope I’ll tell you something really fucked up about my life?” His grip on me lessened and I felt him about to get up and leave. “Wally wait, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that I know that’s not why you’re here.” he got comfortable and pulled me so half of me was laying on his chest.
“While I do have some selfish reasons for coming by myself to check on you no I didn’t come here to guilt you into telling me something you aren’t ready to talk about yet.” I looked up at him and his eyes were darker than I had ever seen them before.
“What did you come here for then? Besides to make sure I wasn’t dead?” I stuck my tongue out at him and I sure as hell wasn’t expecting him to catch it with his teeth and suck on it.
Fuck. Me. Now.
“To see you blush like you are now, I can’t do that in front of everyone. Charly and Dawn would kill me, you’re like Dawns favorite person. Rhonda would probably just laugh.” Yeah she probably would. “I gotta get back before they come looking for me too. You get some sleep Mo.” He winked and then he was gone.
He knew damn well I would not be sleeping now.
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moosekateer13 · 2 years
Text
Chapter 14: Beast
1 month later…
Hill Country House
Austin Texas
Padalecki Household
No sign of Jared after so many restless nights. We are trying every resource possible. Family and friends are helping with the search. As well as our P.I. and the police. I am doing my best to hold down the fort at home but taking care of  5 kids under 10 is no easy feat. Sam is holding it together better than the other kids. He's always been the more level-headed one. Isa is taking it the hardest. She's been having nightmares every night and has been sleeping in our bed.
My phone rings and it's the P.I. calling. I hope this time she has some good news.
"We've got a location in Cooladdi, Australia. You stay put, the FBI is on it." Marquise said.
I didn't have time to get a word in. She hung up before I could.
Like heck I am staying here, I think to myself as I rummage through my closet. Like my character Julie, I picked up some weapon/bulletproof clothes. I drop my kids off at my in-laws. Then I take a flight out to Australia. It's more inconspicuous to take a business flight out than our own plane.
19 hrs later…
Cooladdi, Australia
One gruelling 19 hr flight and 1 hr bus ride later, I finally made it into the town.
This town gives me the creeps; it's a ghost town. Lifeless and creepy, just like him, I guess.
The sound of music interrupts my thoughts, and I hesitantly make my way toward the old gymnasium. My stomach lurches at the sight of the room being decorated like a prom. My nauseousness increases even further when I see him. Rodney and I lock eyes for the first time in years. Time has not been kind to him. He looks like a strung-out addict. Dark circles around those once vibrant blue eyes and yellowed teeth. Not to mention his clothes are way too tight and slightly ripped. 
"Well, there's my bride. Tell you what, you agree to marry me and I'll let Jared out of the hotel I have him locked up in." Rodney said.
"I'd rather jump off a bridge than let your lips touch mine." I sneered.
His demeanour changes as he charges at me. After all that training from that stunt work, I easily dodge him and he lands hard on his face. A sickening crack echoes throughout the empty gym. Rodney is out like a light. I bolt out of there and lock the door. Now it's time to go to the hotel I passed by on my way here.
My heart leaps at the sight of Jared. He is worn out, but at least he's not too badly hurt. I quickly check his pulse, which wakes him up. "Jen," Jared groggily said.
"Shh honey, save your strength. We've got to get you to a hospital." I replied as I helped him towards the door.
The FBI has finally arrived. I see they've got Rodney in custody.
Jensen is there as well silently scolding me for going alone.
Jared gets checked out of the local hospital except for being slightly dehydrated and malnourished. He's okay, thank God for that. The doctor wants him to stay a few days. Despite the hospital's protest, Jared insists on me snuggling up in his arms on the bed. He's holding on to me so tight like he's afraid I'll disappear. It's a comfort to both of us to be wrapped up in each other after the gruelling month without each other. I can't wait to get him home to our family.
Chapter 15:
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Koben’s Return Home (It Is A Home Now)
I
These last few days have felt like no more than a few hours. I didn’t even think to ask Brayli if it was alright to stay at her apartment for this long, and she hasn’t brought the subject up either. Still, I’ve had enough time to heal, and I’d hate to make her late for work tomorrow – it’s about time I packed up my things and headed home. We can always visit, or holo-chat, or leave each other messages. Maybe I can even host her at my place, if she’d like to see the dunes.
‘I’ve had a wonderful time, but with all of my things here, your apartment is starting to feel rather small. I should take them back home, and considering how hard some of these would be to replace, I should probably stay with them too.’ That sounds like you’re never planning to leave. ‘Oh, but – I don’t need to watch them all the time. I’ll come to visit, of course; you know that my work schedule is flexible.’ That gentle smile, same as always.
‘Don’t worry sugar, I getcha. Y’ain’t gotta justify needing some alone time. I know I can be a lot sometimes.’ ‘You’re exactly as much as I want.’ For all she’s done for me, the least I owe her is to tell her exactly how much she means to me, every opportunity I get.
‘Thanks, sugar. Though, next time you show up at my door – try to do it conscious, okay?’ She always knows how to make my worries feel like they’re nothing at all. ‘I’ll try my best. Considering that and the bounty hunter incident, I must look pretty bad at my job.’ ‘Nah. I know how someone who’s bad at your job looks sugar.’ ‘Which is?’ ‘Through a cybereye, if they’re lucky.’ If one of my squadmates made that joke I’d have just rolled my eyes, but I can’t help laughing at it from her.
‘Oh, yeah, one last thing sugar; I made you something.’ ‘When did you manage that? We’ve barely spent an hour apart since I arrived.’ ‘I made it last week. I – well, I kinda figured I wouldn’t see you again, so I wanted something to remind myself of you.’ She really is too good for me. I can almost feel tears welling up just hearing her say that. ‘I see. I never would have thought to do something like that, but I’d love to see it.’ ‘Yeah, I put it away to not ruin the surprise, lemme go grab it real quick.’
This isn’t like her usual sculptures. Her art certainly isn’t anything I’d see in an Imperial gallery, but it communicates its subject adequately. This just looks like a sheet of off colour glass shards glued together on a stand. ‘I appreciate it, the fact that you made it, and that you want me to have it means more to me than I can describe – but I don’t really know what it is.’ ‘Here sugar, hold it up facing the wall.’ Oh. It’s beautiful.
‘Even under that big suit of yours, I could tell you really seemed to be enjoying the sunset on our first date. It obviously doesn’t look quite as majestic, but-’ I can’t possibly do anything but kiss her after she made me something so beautiful. She made it out of love; broke off a little piece of herself for me to keep forever, and that makes it her best work. I’ll have to find a way to do the same for her some day. Maybe I should take up carving, I keep my knife plenty sharp.
‘I love it. I love you. Thank you so much for making it. I’ll put up a shelf under the window so I can see the light shine through it every night.’ ‘No problem sugar. Anyway, last sun’s going down – you should probably get going.’ If we said everything we wanted to I don’t think I’d ever get to leave. There’ll be time to later. We have all the time in the galaxy now. ‘Agreed, call me when you’re off work tomorrow.’
Barely have enough room for all these things in my speeder. For not having a license, Jaxon drives pretty well. Can’t see any damage that couldn’t be explained by regular desert sands scraping across it. I’m sure Brayli has opinions on how to keep one in good working order, and it would certainly be a benefit to know – I should ask her some time.
Still not used to driving across these dunes without my helmet on. On the one hand, it’s nice to see what they look like without that pinkish tinge of the visor – on the other, all this dry wind in my eyes is horrible. Definitely not a fan of open topped vehicles. I should buy some goggles, but for now I’ll just wear the helmet the rest of the way.
Feels different to wear it now, thinking on it. Isn’t as comfortable as it used to be, but I’ve felt more comfortable with it off lately – guess I’m finally growing out of it. Wistful sentimentality aside, it still offers very good protection; and my line of work requires that. Maybe that repaint I’ve been thinking of will help.
Back at the house. It looks just like I left it: empty. Easy to get everything put back into place, especially with how little space it all takes up. At least I have one thing to help fill it, and it almost reaches the window if I put it on the trunk. Good enough for now. I’ve never really paid much mind to how my living quarters looked before. I guess that’s what makes somewhere home.
II
For as nice as it was to cuddle her to sleep, Brayli’s bed didn’t do me any favours. Good to spend the night in mine. If I could get her waking up in it with me, that would be ideal – wouldn’t want to put her through the commute to work though. I tentatively own as much of the area around this house as I bother to claim, so we could just build a speeder garage out here, but then she’d probably have no customers. I should talk to her about this some time.
Have enough credits for the foreseeable future, so I can spend the day on more menial tasks. Already got my armour patched up at her place, but I’ve been too busy to check my messages lately. Brayli sent me a lot last week. One every day. We’re together again, no reason to listen to them; it’d just be hurting myself over nothing, and I’m sick of doing that.
Oh! Those reinforced doors and windows finally arrived, perfect. No more shutters blowing open late at night, and I can’t imagine anyone getting through these without waking me up. If customizing your house makes it home, then I guess I’m still most at home in a fortress. Waiting for pickup, but I should call ahead just so I can make sure they’re waiting for me on arrival.
‘Herbo’s Home Hardware, whaddaya need?’ ‘I’m calling about an order for a steel reinforced door, lock, and shutter set. I received a message that they were ready for pickup a few days ago, but I was too busy at the time. My apologies.’ ‘Hey no problem lady, half the time we only find out a customer won’t be picking up when we see their name in the obits.’ He’s laughing, but given how violent things seem to be around here I’m not sure that was a joke. On the other hand, I am a bounty killer, so my perspective might be skewed.
‘I’m realizing I don’t have a speeder truck to pick them up with. Is there any way I could rent one?’ ‘We deliver for a fee.’ They’re civilians, but I really don’t want to leave any more of a paper trail than I already have. Better to never need these upgrades in the first place if I can manage it. ‘No, that’s unnecessary. I can pick them up myself, unload them, then return the truck.’
‘What, were you planning to install them yourself too? You know you already paid for the work, right? No refunds, by the way.’ That would be difficult, I never took structural engineering. How do I phrase this request without being too obvious?
‘Can I ask that your men ride in the back of the truck with the merchandise while I drive, then I’ll return them the same way?’ This is getting convoluted. ‘Okay lady, I think I’m starting to pick up what you’re putting down. You’re one of those discrete types, right?’ ‘Correct.’ I should have figured they’d have accommodations for underworld customers around here.
‘Right, gotcha – say no more. Yeah it’s an extra fee, but you can have the work done by droids. They drive out, do the job, come back, we wipe their memory banks. No muss, no fuss.’ Can hardly ask for more discretion than that, short of destroying the droids; and I don’t think that would be good for my professional reputation.
‘That sounds perfect, how much is that extra fee?’ ‘A thousand credits.’ Of course, borderline extortion. The original charge was only three hundred. I suppose it’s a fair price to pay for peace of mind. ‘I accept. When would you like the payment?’
‘Just leave the credits in the truck and plug in an address, they’ll drive there and do the work. You don’t even need to be home.’ I don’t like the sound of unsupervised droids, not looking to get two timed again.
‘I’d prefer to drive them here and supervise their work.’ ‘Suit yourself lady, doesn’t matter to me. I just work the front counter.’ Their chain of command has a very weak link. ‘In that case, I should be there within half an hour. Goodbye.’
While I’m thinking of customizing this place, I am starting to miss the crowded, lived in feel of Brayli’s apartment. I’d reign it in a fair amount, bumping into things in the dark wasn’t any fun, but just being able to stare from wall to ceiling to floor in almost every direction from the center of the room feels...hollow, now that I know what other options there are. I should buy some furniture while I’m out.
III
This place is, well, it’s what’s available I suppose. Used to bigger depots and warehouses for this sort of thing, but I guess I’m not done tempering my expectations for a planet this far out. ‘Hey there, you picking up the doors?’ ‘I am. Before I do, I’d like to see if you have a few other items I need.’ ‘Course, no rush, take your time.’
I just realized: everything I ordered is stainless steel, that’ll be corroded beyond recognition within a year. Need to paint them, but not sure what colour I should use. Freshly painted doors would also probably look out of place next to the aging stone, which means that would need painting too. I should call Brayli, ask her what she’d like.
Never actually called her while she was in the shop before. I don’t think she’ll mind, but I do hope she’s free to talk. ‘Hey sugar, what’s up?’ ‘I’m sorry to bother you while you’re at work, are you available for an involved conversation right now?’ I know that mechanical work can be very intensive.
‘Sure, you caught me during some diagnostic tests. What’d you want to talk about?’ Usually mechanics would shoo me away during diagnostic work – said they needed to focus. Maybe she’s just that good. ‘I need to buy paint for my new doors to keep them from corroding, and I think that would make them look out of place without also painting the rest of the exterior. I wanted your opinion on what colours you think I should buy.’
‘Aww, sugar – I’m flattered. I’m not much of a painter though.’ ‘Really? I figured with your work in speeders you’d have some opinions.’ The other thing mechanics always used to do was complain about the aesthetics of Imperial vehicles. I always thought they looked fine.
‘I’ve got some time, we can brainstorm. What’re you hoping for, what colors do you like?’ That’s a good question. The exterior does serve a practical purpose – it’d be good for it to blend in with the surrounding sands to make it harder to spot from a distance or during an overhead scan. The inside I could really do anything with.
‘I just figured out the exterior, I’m going to go with a sandy colour. Talking to you about it did help though, so thank you for that. The inside I don’t have very strong opinions on. What would you like?’ Maybe we could paint it up like an ocean, remind her of home.
‘Aww, well, it’s your place sugar, I wouldn’t want to be making decisions for you.’ She doesn’t seem to realize how much she factors into these decisions. ‘I want it to be your place too some day, or at least to have you come over and enjoy it with me sometimes.’
‘Wow, really? I mean, that’s really sweet sugar, don’t get me wrong – but I kinda figured you liked having your own little space to go back to.’ Experiencing her home made me realize just how little there was to mine. I want nothing more than to welcome her into it.
‘Spending the last two days with you made me realize just how empty my life was, and my home is a part of that. I want you to help me fill it in – that ornament was a start, but if there’s anything I can do to make you feel more welcome in it; please tell me.’
I hope that didn’t come across too strong. I mean, I know how much we talked and cuddled and all that stuff, but- she’s smiling even wider than usual. She understands. ‘Well, if that’s the case sugar – and I know this is maybe a bit cliche – but maybe some ocean blues? Dark floor, medium walls, light ceiling?’
That sounds beautiful. ‘I’d love to. I was only expecting to have to do one colour though, this is sounding like a two person job.’ It’d make a lovely excuse for a date, and to show her my place for the first time.
‘I guess it does, sugar. Pick up the paint, we can do it on my next day off.’ Maybe I should hold off on the other decorations until after we’ve painted. I don’t exactly have anywhere to put them other than directly onto the sand or in my speeder. I can still do some looking around, see if anything speaks to me.
‘Oh, while we’re talking; I was hoping to see you tonight. I’ve already gotten settled in back home, and without work, my schedule is very open.’ I hope she doesn’t mind how much I want to see her. She’s laughing, so it doesn’t seem like it.
‘Sure thing, drop by tonight. We can think of something to do. Gotta go now, tests are wrapping up; which means I’ve gotta get back to actual work. Bye sugar.’ Maybe we can finally get around to that holovid, I think I’ve gotten used to her enough that I can focus on something other than her when we’re in the same room. Now, back to shopping.
IV
Got the paint – interior and exterior – loaded in with the droids, alongside a doormat. I’d been getting tired of tracking sand in, and “Live Laugh Love” is a concise summation of everything I’ve been forbidden from doing for so long. Having a reminder every time I come home should really help.
There were plenty of other trinkets; a little Hoth snowglobe, a physical calendar with small, furred native fauna from a variety of planets, and a charming framed picture of a Twi’lek family. Not sure why that specific family was chosen, but they look nice enough. Maybe once the painting is done I’ll see about buying them.
The droids seem more rudimentary than I was originally expecting, I don’t think they’d be capable of spying on me even if I weren’t watching them. Still, best not to take any chances. Glad they let me rent painting equipment, I don’t exactly have a lot of storage space to accrue miscellaneous tools. Maybe I should see about having a shed built some day.
Here we are. Flick the droids on, and according to the instructions; just give them a command and watch them work. ‘I need this door and these shutters installed on that house.’ Do they even have the dexterity to accomplish something like that? They each only seem to have one manipulator, and they’re so small that I’d half expect their three legs to break if they tried to lift the door – but I guess that’s why there’s so many of them. Guess I’ll just have to see.
Wow, they must have some serious custom programming to work so well in concert like that. Maybe that surcharge isn’t even a simple matter of extortion, but covering the potential replacement cost of these things if they get damaged. I suppose I can start bringing the paint in while they work.
These cans can just go in the corner. They certainly don’t help the place feel more lived in – now it looks even more like a storage facility, but that’ll all be over once Brayli and I get it painted. Maybe I should buy some snacks for when she comes over, surprise her with a nice lunch out on the sand.
I should have bought one of those picnic blankets. I’ll bet sitting on hot sand for an extended period would really dry out her skin. Even I probably wouldn’t find it too comfortable unless I was armoured, and that would likely dampen the romance. I can just use my blanket, shake it out thoroughly before bringing it back in. Not fancy, but it’ll do.
I should also probably give the inside a thorough cleaning too. I know it’s already cleaner than she keeps her place, but the old shutters let sand blow in from time to time. That’ll be a thing of the past once these droids are done. I should go check up on their work.
Solid work, consistent pace, navigating the sand well. A lot more effective than I was expecting, I really underestimated them. Door’s already installed, I can start painting that. Start with the brush, see how much I can cover – use the little cans of spray paint for everything else. Simple, menial work.
It’s nice to do something productive with my hands that isn’t violent. I’ve tried to pick up hobbies before, but they just always make me feel restless. Like I’m wasting my time when I could be accomplishing something. Spending time with Brayli doesn’t make me feel that way though. Every second feels well spent with her.
I spent longer than I should have in the store, the heat’s picking up. I’ve never had to worry about it before, the armour is UV sealed, but I might actually get burned. Adapting to the elements is certainly more difficult without the full technological backing of The Empire, but it’s kind of nice. Within a week of setting up shop, anywhere they designated became another stock template base, same as any other.
Seeing the dunes ebb and flow like this is pretty. I didn’t notice them before, but they’re different heights than they were when I moved in. Some of the old sand blows away, some new sand blows in to replace it. Constantly changing, even in just three short weeks. Wish it wouldn’t pile up against the house, but there’s hardly any use trying to sweep sand – even the best Troopers never managed to win that battle.
Getting the hang of this now. Might need to wash my clothes after this though, managed to splatter some paint at the beginning. Seems like the droids are taking a bit longer with the windows, but that gives me time to catch up. This shouldn’t take too long.
V
Wow. It came out great. The paint is just the right shade to blend in with the sand. Dried quickly too, maybe the desert heat helped with that. The droids are done too, so I suppose all that’s left is to give it all a test. Door first, obviously – it’s the most direct path of approach.
Lock glides well, don’t need to fiddle with it like the old one. Key turns easily, and it can take my full weight trivially. Can’t imagine anything short of a rancor bursting through this. Well, of course someone with the right tools could manage it, but I think even a typical breaching charge would only barely get the job done. Shutters next.
Paint made them stick slightly, but after the first few movements they glide like a dream. Shut firmly, don’t open to jostling. Can’t exactly test how well they’ll handle the wind, but they look like they’re designed not to catch it nearly as much as the old ones. Overall, completely satisfied.
Even if the inside is still undecorated, this makes it feel like home. Not just a normal home, my home. Built to weather a thousand storms and hold up to a thousand blaster shots. Just like me. Not only that, but with sensible decisions taking the surroundings into consideration.
I always found ways that the copy and paste base design could be improved, but the officers always said it wasn’t worth the effort. Now that’s my decision to make, and I made it exactly right. I live here, I call the shots. Maybe I should put in a back patio to watch the sunset. I can think about that later – right now I can just take it all in.
What’s this tugging at my pant leg? Oh, right, I do need to get these droids back. Okay, when I get back from that; then I can take it all in. ‘Put the old shutters and door in the back of the truck.’ Hopefully they’ll take all this off my hands, not like I have any use for it.
VI
Can’t believe how complicated it was to get the old parts taken off my hands, that took hours. At least now I know where the recycling center is, and to call ahead. On the bright side, all that took so long that Brayli should be off work. Should I tell her about the renovations, or save it as one big surprise when she finally comes out to visit? I think I’ll let it all hit her at once.
Three quick knocks at her door. No response. She must be in the refresher, that’s fine. I can wait for her. Never really took the time to look at the surrounding complex, I suppose this gives me the chance. It’s decent. Not great, but not in noticeable disrepair. Some spots could do with new paint.
‘Brayli, it’s me – Koben. Could you get the door?’ Still no response. That isn’t like her. Maybe she was so tired after work she took a nap? I should ask her for a key some time. The door is unlocked. That’s definitely not like her, but with how eager I was to see her – maybe she left it open for me figuring I wouldn’t arrive too long after her.
No. Something happened here. The apartment is smashed up, and that’s her blaster lying in the middle of the room. Scorch marks on the walls – light, set to stun. A robbery? In broad daylight? This neighbourhood isn’t that bad. ‘Brayli! Are you in here? It’s me – Koben! You’re safe now.’ The droid’s been swept off the counter, and that datapad looks too new to be from around here. It looks Imperial.
‘Greetings Tarani.’ That voice. ‘I had my men take the liberty of leaving this datapad somewhere prominent enough that even you could find it.’ It can’t be him. ‘Begrudgingly, I must congratulate you for escaping from Huxley Padova.’ How did he find me? ‘I was certain he would kill you, but it appears that you are tougher than even I accounted for.’ Did he spend this long looking?
‘Thus, I have been forced to go after someone with far less fight in them: your girlfriend. How absurd, to see you go native like this. Even as I defeat you, you find a way to undermine my dignity.’ It’s been thirteen fucking years. ‘You will find my ship at the coordinates left on this datapad. That is not an order, or a recommendation, it is a fact – because I know you.’ He held a grudge this long?
‘You will come to rescue your, I’m not even going to dignify whatever you two have with the term – her – and then my compliment of Stormtroopers will kill you.’ He was barred from ever holding rank again, how does he have Stormtroopers? ‘Signing off: Bounty Acquisition Agent Anton Blackmire.’
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mxreece · 3 months
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Ashes To Ash's (1)
Oh hello, Dear Reader has come to visit I see. Well, as you've come to me, it seems that I will have to tell you a story.
Oh don't make that face, you know that I'm only kidding haha.
What would you like to read today? Perhaps a love story? Or how about a story from another world? Maybe the other world is even this one haha.
Oh you have a story you want to- ah, but that's not a story Dear Reader, that's the setting. Well, if you insist on the story book then who am I to argue. Let's see what we can find there today.
Ahem.
This story sees the world being changed irreparably one day in mid June. On that day people gained magic abilities in order to fight the hordes of monsters pouring from the open wounds in space and time, doors that led to other worlds.
The magic that was given was often grand in that age, and this was for the sake of the species survival you see. As time went on the grand magics of huge flame bursts and ice spears because rare, however, the powers settled in more people and became more specialized for the sake of the species development. Some people who would have gotten fire magic before would now instead get the ability heat metal, a somewhat useless power for a combatant, sure, but the man became a smith and a welder in the end.
As more gates between worlds opened, and as more people with powers sought to to claim and conquer the worlds on the other side, it was clear that war had been declared. Many people fought and lost their lives, even more thought that the gates had now become part of life and should not be closed for good, and in the end there was a winner.
It was not this world that won.
Dear Reader, you and I both dislike the chosen one narrative, do we not? Sadly it seems, however, that we both have gotten somewhat attached to this doomed world. Ah. What to do, what to do.
There was a man who was born into this world near the 50th anniversary of the first wounds opening. He lived a boring life and died young. His power would have been useful for the cause, hm. What do you say? Maybe we can indulge and choose someone this time, haha, I think I know the perfect way to motivate him. Keep up and follow me, Dear Reader!
[Another terrible morning had come and gone while the worlds greatest liar once again stayed curled up under his heavy covers. With no school, no job, no good family to speak of, was it any surprise that he was once again hiding in bed even after hours of being awake?]
I rolled over towards the unnatural light and- what?
[Of course the lack of a job was a recent development. He had been fired for talking back to the boss who everyone hated and was made out as an example.]
What the fuck is that thing?! I pulled myself up and looked around in the dark. No one was there, but the window kept updating anyways.
"What are you?! Some stalkers magic or what?!"
[Getting a new job wouldn't be too hard, though. There were the contacts he had from coworkers and friends, and if nothing else he could even try to solo a low ranked gate under the table.]
"What the hell are you talking about?" I swatted at the window, hoping to kill it.
[Oh, but that wasn't a good idea.]
Pain shot through my spine and into my brain and eyes in seconds. I knew the sensation from before and fuck it hurt. Pictures and voices were streaming into my head so fast and without control that it felt like years had passed before it finally subsided.
[He laid there, breathing heavily, trying to understand what kind of ability could cause both the window and the painful memories.]
"Shut up"
[He was almost too focused on recovering to realize just what he had just experienced, and learned.]
"Be quiet"
[But he could no longer ignore what the being behind the window had given him; a way that could perhaps control his own powers.]
"I am in control"
[Maybe he could even make some easy cash and finally move into a larger place with a proper kitchen as well from all the loot.]
I rolled over and went back to scrolling social media, deciding to ignore the window for now and be prepared for an attack. It followed me when I left bed, dutifully described the low-key lunch at five, and would not leave for even a second.
I slept lightly that night. And the night after that. And many nights forward until my body collapsed, and even after that the apartment seemed no worse for ware when I woke up.
Never once did it fail to propose taking hunter jobs during this time. If I talked about money or the space limitations of my house the thing would try to lure me into taking a hunting contract.
Is this my only option?
[Viktor thought as he leaned closer to the Narrator.]
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