#Main Street Retail | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

deliciousangelfestival · 17 days

Text

Love Me A Little

Character: Secretary!Bucky x Female!Reader

Words: 1,539

Summary: "Love me, even just a little." When she uttered those words, they struck Bucky like a bolt of lightning, leaving him utterly bewildered. After all, he was just a secretary—his world and hers seemed galaxies apart.

Main Masterlist || support: Ko-fi

Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️

A/N: Check out the male version of this story - Be Mine.

It was already 1:00 a.m., and the streets lay deserted, easing Bucky's drive. The sleek black Bugatti smoothly entered the apartment basement car park. Just one more turn, and he would find his usual parking spot.

"Screech." The sound of tires screeching echoed in the empty basement.

"Huh?" Bucky's foot instinctively hit the brake as he caught sight of the familiar figure standing in front of his car.

"Y/N?"

It's you. The sole daughter of the Rogers family, the heiress to Starlight Enterprises, a conglomerate spanning oil and gas, telecom, retail, and financial services.

You had fled, prompting the company to dispatch security teams in search of you.

And here you were.

Bucky stepped out of the car. "What are you doing? Don't you realize everyone's been searching for you?"

You scoffed, your tone laced with defiance. "So what? At least everyone will learn that I'm serious. I refuse to marry that guy."

Bucky understood the depth of your frustration. Your family was orchestrating an engagement between you and their business partner. But you vehemently opposed it. He comprehended why; the man they wanted you to marry was notorious—a playboy and a drug addict.

Unable to sway your resolve, Bucky carefully chose his words. "You should go home."

He reached out, gently clasping your hand, his touch pleading, wanting to guide you to safety.

But you recoiled, pushing his hand away. "I don't want to."

Bucky's heart sank, his expression pained. "Your family is worried about you."

Your retort was sharp, cutting. "Are they really? Or are they just afraid of losing their golden ticket?"

A tense silence enveloped them as Bucky grappled with the weight of your words. As the secretary to your brother, Steve, the Vice President, he was privy to the inner workings of wealthy families, aware that most marriages were arranged for business purposes.

Like Steve and Peggy, who defied the odds and found happiness together despite the pressures of their world, you refused to succumb to a loveless marriage.

With teary eyes, you gazed at Bucky, desperation etched in every tear. "I'll tell my parents I'll marry you instead."

Bucky sighed, feeling the weight of your request once more. You had asked him this before, seeking refuge from the loveless future awaiting you. Each time, he had declined.

"Not everything will always go your way," he murmured, his words heavy with resignation. "You've been living in a bubble as Princess Rogers." He paused, unable to bring himself to utter the name of your family's empire. "Now you're facing reality."

You fought back the tears, stung by his harshness. It was the first time Bucky had spoken so coldly to you. "Do you think my feelings for you are fake?"

"My whole life has been arranged from A to Z without my opinion," you continued, your voice trembling with suppressed emotion.

"The only thing I have is my dream of us living happily ever after. Can I at least have that?" Your breaths came in ragged gasps as you struggled to contain your emotions.

"Stop dreaming. Go home," Bucky commanded, his voice firm as he pointed behind you.

'Screech.'

With a screech of tires, a white Mercedes arrived to collect you. It dawned on you that Bucky had already informed the security team of your whereabouts.

As you watched Bucky walk away, a surge of determination washed over you. Clenching your fists, you whispered, "I'll show you."

########

A few days later

The entire Rogers family had gathered for tonight's dinner, including your grandparents, Thomas Rogers, the esteemed founder of the company. Bucky joined the dinner as well, having become one of the company's key figures, seated right beside you.

Despite the gravity of your previous conversation, you seemed to have put it aside, acting as if nothing had happened when you saw Bucky.

The dinner unfolded in its usual extravagant manner, with everyone engaging in polite small talk until dessert was served.

Your grandmother, Anna, broke the silence. "It's wonderful that we could all come together like this. We must discuss our youngest's engagement."

Your mother, Sophia, nodded, her smile gentle. "I met with them four days ago, and we've already ironed out all the details, from the church to the wedding."

Bucky's mind raced. Four days ago? That's precisely when you had gone missing.

Anna's excitement bubbled over. "This wedding will be magnificent. I can hardly contain myself."

But only the two women seemed enthused; your grandfather, Thomas, and your father, Benjamin, remained stoic, while your brother Steve stayed silent.

Then, a sudden sound cut through the air—a sharp "clank" as a fork stabbed into a plate.

All eyes turned to you.

"I don't like it," you stated flatly, your voice cutting through the tension like a knife.

Sophia's hand hesitated mid-air, poised to call the waitress, but froze when she heard her daughter's words.

"I don't like anything," you continued, your voice ringing with defiance. "I don't like that person, the wedding, anything."

"Y/N, stop," Sophia interjected, her tone tinged with frustration. "We've discussed this."

"Discuss?" you retorted bitterly. "Do you mean when you ignore my words?"

Anna's patience wore thin. "Y/N, enough with the tantrum. This concerns the entire family."

You crossed your arms defiantly. "I refuse to marry him."

Anna rose from her seat, ready to reprimand you, but a sharp glance from Thomas halted her in her tracks. Without a word, she sank back down, chastened by her husband silent command.

Thomas fixed you with a steady gaze, the same gaze that had once spoiled you as his beloved granddaughter. "Explain to me the reason why."

"I don't love him," you declared, your voice trembling with emotion. "I love someone else."

A sudden palpitation coursed through Bucky's chest. He sensed the situation spiraling out of control.

"Whose the person you love?" Thomas inquired, his voice firm.

You didn't hesitate. "Bucky."

'Ba-dump'

The room fell into stunned silence, broken only by the rapid thudding of Bucky's heart echoing in his ears, his mind racing as he grappled with the revelation unfolding before him.

Bucky rose hastily, his intention to apologize to the Chairman halted as your hand clasped his, the determination in your eyes stopping him in his tracks. It was the first time he had seen you like this, and it sent a shiver down his spine.

As all eyes turned towards you, you swallowed hard before speaking up. "And I'm pregnant. Bucky is the father."

The room erupted in chaos as Sophia and Anna screamed in unison.

"What?" they exclaimed in disbelief.

"Bucky! How dare you touch my daughter!" Sophia lunged forward, her hand reaching for Bucky's hair, but Benjamin intervened, restraining her.

Bucky opened his mouth to protest and deny the accusation, but the words stuck in his throat. He was taken by surprise, too.

"Silence," Thomas, the Chairman's authoritative voice, cut through the commotion, bringing an abrupt end to the chaos.

He rose from his seat, followed by Benjamin and Steve, their expressions a mix of shock and concern.

Fixing Bucky with a steely gaze, Thomas uttered just two words. "A word."

Bucky swallowed hard, his heart pounding as he replied, "Yes, Sir," bracing himself for the inevitable confrontation.

########

In Benjamin's office, Bucky stood before the three men, the weight of their scrutiny heavy upon him as they remained silent. Finally, Thomas broke the tension with a direct question. "Is everything true?"

Bucky knelt before his boss and friend, his voice steady but his heart pounding. "No, sir. None of it is true. I've never laid a hand on her."

Thomas's expression softened, a flicker of relief crossing his features. "Good."

Bucky let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding, grateful for Thomas's understanding.

But then Benjamin spoke up, his tone contemplative. "Then why don't you like my daughter?"

Bucky's brow furrowed in confusion as he lifted his head to meet Benjamin's gaze.

"She's better off with you than with that spoiled man," Steve interjected, his voice firm.

Benjamin nodded in agreement, his eyes holding a hint of understanding.

Bucky was taken aback. "What?"

Thomas leaned forward, his voice grave. "The wedding arrangement was orchestrated by my wife and Y/N's mother. I'm relieved my granddaughter took a stand today."

Steve clapped Bucky on the shoulder, a mixture of relief and gratitude in his eyes. "I nearly lost my cool when she said she was pregnant. I almost punched you. Thank goodness it was a lie."

Bucky struggled to find words, overwhelmed by the unexpected turn of events.

Steve's tone softened. "Stay with her. I won't allow my sister to marry that man."

As the men continued their discussion, Bucky's mind raced, unable to fully comprehend the depth of their support.

Excusing himself, Bucky closed the door behind him, only to find you waiting for him outside.

Your worried expression melted his defenses as you approached him.

"What did they say?" you asked, searching his eyes for answers.

Bucky hesitated, then shook his head. "Nothing."

You breathed a sigh of relief and pulled him into a tight hug, his body stiffening like a log. Lifting your head to meet his gaze, determination flashed in your eyes.

"I'll make you love me," you vowed softly. "Even just a little."

Join the taglist? 🩷💙🩷

@bagoffeelings

@darkofimagination

@starsofcloud

@cherrybubblebullet

@winterslove1917

@thezombieprostitute

@xcaptain-winterx

@namoreno

@sagebarness

@tenaciousathleteoperatorgarden

@unaxv

@missvelvetsstuff

@kjah97

@hopeful-daydreaming

@freshlemontea

@eat-limes-bitches

@kandis-mom

@scott-loki-barnes

@winters1917

@differenttyphoonwerewolf

@arunabraganza

@ordelixx

@vicmc624

@blackwood-bodecker-housewife

@mostlymarvelgirl

@musicandbooksaremyhappyplace

@buckybarnessimpp

@charmedbysarge

@almosttoopizza

@sapphirebarnes

@daddysfavoritesexkitten

@rebeccapineapple

@cjand10

@pigeonmama

@almosttoopizza

@thesarcasmqueen-22

@cakesandtom

@ficrecsbyellie

@reblogging-all-i-read

Author Note: Hey friends,

If you've been enjoying the content, I've set up a Ko-fi account.

Your support through tips would mean the world and help me keep creating.

Only if you feel like it!

Here's the link: Ko-fi

Thanks a bunch for being fabulous followers!

296 notes · View notes

itneverendshere · 2 days

Text

my heart’s been borrowed and yours has been blue

just a lil something, completely self indulgent and inspired by miranda and steven in s2 of sex & the city 😔🥺

warnings: angst😤; a little fluffy; soft!rafe because i personally LOVE him

you did it without thinking.

it felt as if your body had a mind of its own and while your brain yelled at you to stay put and act normal, your heart simply didn’t allow it. your feet pounded against the street pavement, each step echoing the racing of your heart. you didn’t dare to look back, afraid that if you did, you’d crumble under the weight of your memories with him rushing back. the sound of your breath filled your ears, drowning out the chaos of the main street.

rafe.

the name echoed in your mind like some sort of haunted melody. you didn’t expect to see him, not after so many months without a single glimpse of his perfect face. you’d broken up months ago, you were supposed to be over him. and yet, despite all your attempts, his presence still stirred something within you.

this wasn’t how it was supposed to work out.

you rounded the corner, trying to convince yourself that it was fine. so what if he was back in town? so what if he didn’t call you? so what if you two promised to stay friends and yet…it’s none of your business. you should be thankful.

but seeing him out of the blue, it was like a sucker punch to the gut, except it felt like it came from a hundred directions at once. maybe you just needed a minute to process all of it. maybe a venti latte and some retail therapy would do the trick.

except they didn’t and hours later, here you are, stuck to your couch wondering how the hell you are supposed to step foot outside knowing there’s a possibility you might run into him again.

your brain always goes into overdrive when you think of rafe cameron. and now you’re stuck here, overthinking every little thing. should you text him? would that be too desperate? but what if he's thinking the same thing?

and if he isn’t?

there's a sudden knock on your apartment door, the sound cuts through the haze of your mind, jolting you back to reality. you reluctantly peel yourself off the couch and shuffle over to the door, wondering if that amazon package you ordered this morning is here already.

you glance towards the peephole, debating whether to check who it is or simply ignore it. after a moment of internal deliberation, curiosity wins out, and you approach the door cautiously.

you peer through the peephole, half expecting to see a stranger or maybe the mailman with a package. but to your surprise—it's rafe.

holy fuck.

your breath catches in your throat as you take in his familiar face from up close, a jumble of emotions stirring inside you.

what's he doing here? how did he get your new address? you moved from your parent’s home just a month ago.

for a beat, you’re frozen. no one taught you how to proceed in these kinds of situations, but you are fairly certain letting an ex-boyfriend, the one you’re still in love with, inside your personal space is a big no-no.

should you open the door? pretend you’re not home? smash your head against a wall and pray it knocks you out instantly? before you can even begin to form a plan, there's another knock, this time a little more insistent, as if he knows you’re on the other side.

“i can hear you breathing.”

panic sets in.

summoning whatever fake bravery you have left, you take a deep breath and reluctantly twist the doorknob. with your hands trembling like crazy, you swing the door open, revealing rafe standing there.

you gulp, feeling like your throat's suddenly decided to go on strike “yeah-uh. hi!”

his hands are clutched behind his back and his eyes take turns between your face and the door. there's a slight furrow in his brow, accentuating the sharp angles of his jawline and the curve of his nice cheekbones.

“that was a shitty thing you did. running away from me on the street.”

you feel a crazy amount of guilt wash over you. he’s not wrong. running away like that was cowardly, but did he expect you to run into him with open arms?

“i didn’t run?”

his lips, usually set in a determined line, now quiver ever so slightly, “you ran.”

the weight of what you did hangs over you like a dark cloud. could you have acted any more immaturely?

“well, i wasn’t expecting to see you-“ you manage to blurt out, your voice shaky, “and-and, i-“

“it really hurt my feelings.” rafe's finger points accusingly at his chest, and you feel like you’re about to shrink into the floor under the weight of his disappointment.

you shift uncomfortably under his gaze. you can feel your eyes starting to sting with unshed tears and you use every remaining strength inside you not to cry in front of him. you’ve embarrassed yourself enough.

“i don’t deal very well with ex-boyfriends?”

his expression softens slightly, and he leans his weight against the doorframe, his eyes searching yours.

“hey, sweetheart, this is me.” his hand moves again and he gently places it on his chest, right over his heart, as if trying to convey the sincerity of his words “rafe.”

but he’s not your rafe anymore.

that’s the one thing you want to tell him. you chew on your lower lip wondering if honesty would do you any good right now. if it would erase all these months, weeks, days, hours, without him.

a moment of silence stretches between you, and then, after what feels like an eternity, you finally manage to utter a response.

"yeah..."

rafe's gaze remains fixed on you, “i held you while you were sleeping.”

if you weren’t crying before, you are now. it's like a dam has burst inside you. tears stream down your face like a leaky faucet, nothing strong enough to hold them back. they're not the dainty tears you see in movies, but big, ugly cries that leave your mascara streaked and your nose running.

you try to speak, but all that comes out are choked sobs and sniffles. it's embarrassing, really, how out of control you feel. but you can't help it even as your front neighbor comes into view.

you do quick 180 and bolt back into your apartment, hand pressed against your forehead as if holding it will stop the raging headache you’re about to experience. you don’t have to look back to know rafe’s following you, trailing inside and swiftly closing the door with a soft click.

"i’m sorry," you whisper, your voice barely above a breath. "i’m really sorry. i’m so sorry-“

rafe's hands reach out, his palms open as if he's dealing with a wounded animal.

"hey, it’s okay,” he murmurs, his voice a gentle reassurance, "it's okay.”

“i hadn’t seen you in so long,” you confess, your words tumbling out in a rush, “and i missed you and then i did that shit-“

his hand envelops yours, his touch grounding you. "hey, breathe," he urges softly, “it’s okay.”

tears well up in your eyes again, blurring your vision as you struggle to hold back the sobs threatening to escape. "’m sorry," you choke out, voice breaking with each syllable. "i'm so sorry, rafe."

“it wasn’t that shitty, okay?” rafe's expression softens further, the way it does only for you.

“it was! i’m a shitty person.”

his thumb gently brushes away your tears as he shakes his head slowly. "no, you're not.”

“i am! you would’ve never done something that shitty.”

the nagging feeling that you’ve let him down once again is eating you alive.

he raises an eyebrow, a hint of amusement playing at the corners of his lips. "what do you call showing up here, in your apartment, in the middle of the afternoon and calling you shitty, huh?" he asks, his tone teasing yet affectionate.

you can't help but let out a shaky laugh, “t’s not the same.”

rafe reaches out, gently cupping your face in his palm as he brushes his thumb gently across your cheek. “yeah, it is.”

without even questioning it, you lean into his touch, closing your eyes as your allow yourself to bask in the warmth of his embrace. for the first time in months.

“i miss you,” you confess, “whenever something happens, i just want to tell you about it.”

“so, tell me.” the tender smile softens the lines on his face, "’m right here.”

you feel a rush of relief, a weight lifting off your chest as if he's just granted you permission to exhale. and yet, tears still well up in your eyes, blurring your vision and spilling over onto your cheeks in hot.

“i have a date.”

a knot forms in the pit of your stomach, tightening with each syllable. your voice quivers with uncertainty, the words tumbling out like stones from a crumbling cliff. you don’t have to look to know your hands are shaking like leaves in a storm. you’re pretty sure if you held them up, they'd look like one of those ridiculous earthquake simulations.

rafe nods, doing his best to stop the cheeky grin growing on his face, as he shakes his head understandingly, “looking forward to it, are ya?”

but you only sob harder.

"hey, hey- sweetheart. it's alright.” he says gently, his voice soothing you better than any depressing song on your playlist, “just jokin’ around.”

but you can't shake off the feeling of shame, the burning embarrassment of admitting to something you wish you hadn't. of letting someone take you out, someone who isn’t rafe, your rafe.

"i just... i thought it would help me move on, y’know?" you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper.

"i get it.” he tries to smile at you again, but it looks sad, and it makes your heart hurt. his hand reaches out to brush away a stray tear from your cheek, “i’m not mad.”

but you are. at you. at him.

the words linger in the back of your mind, gnawing at your insides. you want to scream, to lash out at him for being so understanding, for not fighting for you the way you wish he would.

you push his hands away from your face, your voice cracking. that’s all it seems to do since he walked back into your life ten minutes ago.

"that's it?" you exclaim, "you're just okay with it? with me going on a stupid date with someone else?"

it was like someone had just pulled the rug out from under him, and he didn't know how to stand back up.

rafe’s jaw is set in a firm clench, "i just want you to be happy.”

“but i'm not happy!" you retort, your voice rising in volume as tears continue to stream down your face. "i'm miserable, rafe! and you're just standing there, doing nothing!”

his chest is rising and falling heavily, as if he’s trying to contain himself.

"i'm doing nothing?” he asks so quietly; you take a double take to make sure it’s still him. his eyes flicker with an intensity that sends a shiver down your spine. it feels like staring into a wildfire, all fierce and untamed.

you swallow hard, suddenly feeling the weight of your words crashing down on you. the way rafe looks at you, it’s like he sees right through you.

"i’m here, aren't i? i’m listening, okay? i'm trying to understand."

but his words only fuel the fire of your frustration.

"i need you to tell me that you still care. that you don't want me to go on that date because you want me for yourself."

you could see the anger draining out of him, leaving behind this raw, broken man. he slumps forward, shoulders drooping. his eyes go from blazing with intensity to just... empty. like he just flicked off a light switch behind them.

it’s heartbreaking, honestly, to see him just fizzle out into nothing.

“’course i want you for myself," he whispers, "but i can't force you to choose me. you left me.”

it’s a devastating sight, really. to see someone you love so deeply, someone who’s always been so strong, just fall apart like that. it’s like watching a building crumble to the ground.

and the worst part is, you know you’re the one who caused it. you’re the reason he’s standing there looking so broken, so lost. and you hate yourself for it, hate that you couldn’t be what he needed, hate that you had to go and ruin everything.

“i left because i didn’t feel good enough,” your voice is hoarse from screaming and crying, “not because i stopped loving you.”

for a moment, the silence between you is deafening, stretching on through time. it’s like neither of you knows what to say.

and then, slowly, almost imperceptibly, something shifts in his expression, he looks as if you have hit him.

“i never wanted you to feel that way,” he murmurs, stepping closer to you. “i never wanted you to doubt how much you mean to me.”

his words hang in the air, like they’re carrying the weight of all the things you two never said, all the things you wished you could take back. as if he’s putting it all out there, laying his soul bare for you to see, finally showing you everything he’s been keeping bottled up inside.

“i’m sorry,” he whispers, the words a solemn oath sworn in the quiet of the night. “’m sorry for not being there when you needed me.”

“i’m sorry too,” you choke out. “i’m sorry for pushing you away.”

and then, without another word, without another moment wasted on regrets and what-ifs, you step forward and wrap your arms around him. it’s like coming home after a long time.

and yeah, you might have a shit ton of things and problems to sort through, but rafe cameron is worth that and more.

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron au #rafe cameron fluff #rafe angst #rafe cameron angst #rafe x reader #rafe fic #rafe cameron obx #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron blurb #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron x female reader #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x kook!reader #obx rafe cameron

130 notes · View notes

oneatlatime · 4 months

Text

Lake Laogai

This Lake had better have Appa in it. With little water wings on.

Skipping the commentary as usual.

The Previously On section suggests that a whole lot of plot threads are about to crash into each other. Strap in folks.

Lefty Sokka!

Beat up Sokka quota fulfilled by his sister's critique of his art skills. It's not like he had paper to practice with at the South Pole.

Sometimes I forget that Aang is 12, then he does something like attempt to rescue his pet from a nefarious city-wide conspiracy of silence with lost cat posters.

"Good tea is its own reward." That means no, he isn't paid enough.

Remember what I said in my last post about Iroh bringing too much attention to himself?

"senior executive assistant manager" someone on the writing team has worked retail I see. Nothing like meaningless promotions with no raise attached! It's right up there with employee pizza party.

I have to pause here and point something out. This whole scene with Iroh? This is an adult fantasy. I don't mean dirty, I mean this whole scene was put in specifically to appeal to the adults who got roped in to watching this kids' show by their children. A rich man walks through the door of your shitty retail job, immediately spots your natural greatness, and offers you a much better paying job with unlimited creative freedom and a better house to go with it? Find me a burnt out retail worker who hasn't conjured up this fantasy five times a shift.

And so the plots come crashing back together. This won't end badly.

"patience really pays off" I checked. He waited literally three seconds.

Shout out to Toph in the background playing catch with a ball she can't see. Casual flex of epic proportions.

Remind me never to go to Lake Laogai. Sounds like it's lousy with Ju Dees.

So the Ju Dees don't know about each other? Because she seems honestly confused. Does Ju Dee think she's the only Ju Dee? What happens if two Ju Dees run into each other in the street?

Posters are illegal but I haven't heard a peep about recarving a bunch of fields into a zoo.

This is maybe the second time Aang's blown up over Appa. Frankly he deserves more blow ups about the whole situation.

I don't think knocking down walls will help find Appa, but I applaud Toph's spirit.

They took out a whole wall and then exit by the door anyways. That's funny.

I really hate this guy, but I have to admit that he may be the first truly competent villain of the series.

'The Jasmine Dragon' also lets anyone with half a brain know that you're Fire Nation. Try the Jasmine Badgermole instead.

Zuko really can't catch a break, huh? He wasn't happy being a tea server, but at least he was resting. But every time he gets five minutes to himself, the main plot reappears to drag him back into the action, whether he wants to or not. Although he hasn't figured out that he doesn't want to be dragged back yet.

Every line of dialogue in this scene is a good point. Zuko's right, Iroh's right. The Zuko's right again, then Iroh's right again.

YES YES YES GET HIS ASS

That was satisfying!

I'm not understanding why Sokka is the voice of reason here. Is he incapable of holding a grudge? He's the one that had all the animosity with Jet to begin with. Shouldn't it be Aang who wants to hear him out?

Toph is a living lie detector now? I can't think of an example off the top of my head, but I'm sure that could have come in handy previously. Any other incredibly useful skills we should know about?

Jet is oddly defensive for someone who claims to know he did wrong.

Ever get so excited that your spine malfunctions?

Sokka just has a metre long map in his pocket. Good friend to have in a pinch.

Avatar first! Katara is rude to an old person!

I'm going to have fun with Toph's new ability.

Toph, you have never been more right. It is the worst city ever. You are really shining this episode.

I know this is a serious scene, but I need to point out that Jet's guyliner is on point.

This shot is jarringly out of place. I think it's because it both black and white, and live action. Those have to be real clouds.

So the Blue Spirit can talk after all. Careful, your Zuko is showing.

Wow Zuko is good at sewing. And fast too.

Sokka is having far too much fun with this whole 'prompt Jet's memory' thing. Maybe he does have a bit of a grudge after all.

Katara can reverse brainwashing now too? Everyone's levelling up this episode.

This scene with the planks is a very cool and disorienting visual.

Didn't have 'the gaang breaks into a brainwashing facility' on my ATLA bingo card.

Pretty.

OMIGOD IT'S AP- did Zuko just break the fourth wall?

Everyone always forgets to look up.

So this fight is going to be Toph v. all of the Dai Li while everyone else tries not to get in Toph's way.

That's a boat.

Toph could probably take all these guys out faster if she wasn't having to constantly break off to save everyone else from them.

The Dai Li prancing up walls is a really cool visual. It's very Ty Lee of them.

I love watching her work.

Why don't you let Long Feng escape? He's no longer threatening you, and you're down there to rescue Appa. Just let him go.

The security on Lake Laogai is a joke.

Big words from someone who also had no plan whatsoever at the North Pole.

Zuko knows that Iroh's right. He knows, and that's important. I don't think Iroh is saying anything that Zuko hasn't thought and then hurriedly pretended to have never thought about before. It's why he says 'stop it' rather than being completely confused as to what Iroh is referring to.

Poor Appa's like 'can you have a crisis of self after you free me please?'

'You've chosen your own demise." No. You chose it for him. That's some top tier deflection/victim blaming right there.

Longshot can talk!

That's one hell of a set up and pay off re: Toph's lie detecting abilities.

Poor Jet. A double tragedy: to be likeable only when you're brainwashed, and to dedicate your life to wiping out the Fire Nation yet being killed by the Earth Kingdom.

Hi Appa. It's about time buddy.

Shockingly in character for Appa's first actions to be to single handedly save the Gaang from a threat.

You skip that bastard like a stone.

Everyone go and listen to the sound Appa makes when he spits out Long Feng's shoe. It's delightful.

I am framing this.

And this too.

I can tell there's some shmymbolism here, but it's gone right over my head.

Final Thoughts

Appa is back. The Gaang has Appa back. I have Appa back. Ok. I can relax now. With any luck, this means we can leave Ba Sing Se.

This episode felt like City of Walls and Secrets, Part 2. I think it was a good decision to have a couple of episodes between the two, but I think there would be some tonal whiplash if you binged this section of season 2. Which wouldn't have been a problem for a show designed to air once a week, so it's a moot point.

So Zuko freed Appa from his chains, and presumably pointed him in the direction of a door or something. Or maybe not; Appa has a ridiculously hard head, he could have busted his way out. Either way, Zuko broke the chains. Thanks Zuko!

In season 1, Zuko finds the Avatar the world had lost. In season 2, Zuko finds the Sky Bison the Avatar had lost. So in season 3, Zuko will find something Appa has lost. I wonder what that will be?

Jet being killed by the Earth Kingdom is so deliciously ironic, and tragic, yet very in character for the Earth Kingdom's approach to this war. It's also literally this:

Smellerbee and Longshot have really gotten the short end of the stick over and over this season. They were the only ones to decide to stick with Jet. Presumably they were the only ones who believed that he had had a legitimate change of heart. And they were kind of wrong. They get to Ba Sing Se only for Jet to immediately backslide way past even where he was at his worst in Season 1. He completely discounts and dismisses their legitimate concerns for his methods and his overall health. Then Jet gets arrested and disappears for two (?) weeks. So what do they do now? Get jobs? Steal so they don't starve? Then suddenly Jet's back but he doesn't even remember them. Then suddenly Jet's dead. The whole point of coming to Ba Sing Se just died, in a way that shows very clearly that their desire to help with the war is not welcome at all in the city. So what now? Do they leave and try to fight in the war from outside the walls? Do they settle down and try to forget about the war? Things did spiral completely out of Jet's control once the Dai Li got involved, but you have to admit that he's left his only remaining friends up a creek.

Sokka had some good jokes but was oddly ok with this episode's events. Toph had some great lines and got to shine with a new skill that any writer with half a brain will bring back in future episodes. She felt like the audience substitute this episode, which is usually Sokka's role. Toph was episode MVP for sure. Poor Aang took a bit of a back seat this episode. Zuko finally hit the crisis point, and may well have made his first indisputably correct decision of the series. But, as previous episodes have gone out of their way to show me that Zuko being good always goes badly for Zuko, I'm sure freeing Appa will somehow come back to bite him.

Iroh's question of "who are you? And what do you want?" was Zuko's entire character arc this season. He took a shot at answering the "who are you?" portion in Zuko Alone, and sort of halfway got there before messing up at the end of the episode. As for the "what do you want?" Zuko will tell you (often and repeatedly) that he wants his honour back. But I think he just wants to go home. The thing is, I strongly suspect that the home Zuko wants to return to hasn't existed since his mother left, if it ever existed at all. Which means that while "who are you?" has an answer Zuko can work towards, "what do you want?" has an answer that is kind of impossible. So Zuko is going to have to learn to want something new.

RIP Jet. Your life was fucked to Hell long before you were old enough to try and salvage it. You'll probably be missed by more people than you strictly deserve. War sucks, amirite?

#atla #avatar: the last airbender #avatar the last airbender #lake laogai

155 notes · View notes

therealhousewifeofharrystyles · 9 months

Text

Whatcha Doin' Step Bro

*Part 2*

Read Part 1 Here

Pairing: Harry Styles // Y/N (Step-Sibling EU)

Word Count: ~ 9k words

🔞WARNINGS🔞: adult language, rough smut, degradation, overstimulation, references to a filthy masturbation session, sexual fantasies involving a step sibling, inappropriate touching between step siblings, dom!harry, sub!y/n, cum fetish, oral sex (m & f receiving), unprotected p-in-v

[y/m/n=your middle name; if you don’t have one, you can just ignore it 😊]

You couldn’t stop thinking about it. About the thing. How wet his dick was, how he knew you were there at the doorway, the way he looked at you…and he just…came all over himself. You speed through your neighborhood streets to sink yourself into the realm of retail. It’s meant to be a distraction—a visual diversion to get your mind off of Harry and his dripping cock. But it’s as if a part of your subconscious is holding a marathon of your short-term memory, and the past 15 minutes loops on a suspiciously high-definition projector inside of your brain…

You wake up. Harry isn’t shitting on your day 1st thing in the morning. Life seems livable for an hour or so. You think it’s strange, but you want to savor it while you still can. As if he could sense your state of ease, Harry yells for you from his bedroom. You reluctantly decide to check on him. Being well-mannered, you knock on his door before entering. He responds strangely. Your imagination has brought you to dire conclusions. You open the door, growing concerned for his well-being. Then, boom—you get front-row seats to see your step brother and his stupid, perfect cock, and after his cum finishes shooting out of him like lotion out of a pump, he has the audacity to assume you’d want to sample some.

He’s such a scumbag. What—does he think you’re in some kind of pure taboo, bratty-sis, family strokes, sis-loves-me video?! Not that you ever watch those…or even know what they are…

Who are you kidding—you’ve explored this fantasy in the privacy of your bedroom more times than you can count. Especially since the other day when Harry fingered you in the laundry room and left you before you could cum. You’re still mad about that, by the way. Right after it happened, you bolted for your room where you shut your door behind you, dropped to your knees on the floor, and rubbed at your clit to finish what he’d started. You muffled your moans with your free hand as you rode out your perpetual orgasms. It was pathetic how quickly you’d gotten yourself writhing and humping against your fingers to the sick imagery of your step brother savoring your natural lubricant from his fingers. You’d only ever dreamt of something like that coming to fruition. You’ve been entertaining yourself in this perverse land of daydreams for so long—pretending to be repulsed by your step brother and his malignant vulgarity.

Meanwhile, your thoughts have progressively been plagued by filthy scenarios where you and your step brother participate in extremely inappropriate activities in places where it’s extremely likely for the two of you to get caught. The details aren’t too important…but they do change according to whatever Harry chooses to say and/or do to you each day.

For example—one time, it was late and you’d just arrived back home from a friend’s house. As you tiptoed across the first floor towards the main staircase, you were spooked by the sudden noise of someone clearing their throat in the living room. You froze and whipped your head in the direction where it came from, squinting in the darkness to try and identify any odd shapes or shadows. Then a phone screen lit up to illuminate his face. Harry’s face. Easily startled, you sucked in a gasp and knocked your elbow against the wooden railing. You clutched onto your arm to self-soothe and tried to hold in an echoing yelp. “Ouch…! Harryyy!” You whisper-yelled. Your eyes darted back to him as if he’d been the one to directly cause you harm. He wasn’t even looking at you; rather, he was pretending to be occupied with his device as if he was completely unaware of your presence. Prick. You knew he was up to something.

“Harry!” You hiss, slowly approaching him near the sofa.

That was when he finally acknowledged you by lazily lifting his gaze to travel up your figure, taking his sweet time in doing so. “Oh…you’re home.” His voice was both dull and bitter in its tone. You sensed more tension in the room than usual, and you wondered what sort of fight he was trying to pick at 2 o’clock in the goddamned morning. While you were sleepily making sense of the situation in your head, Harry went ahead and gave you a hefty clue as to why he seemed so peeved.

“So, how’d it go with what’s-his-nuts?” He shut his phone off before reaching beside him and clicking a lamp on. It took a few uncomfortable seconds for your eyes to adjust to the sudden brightness. Due to the unpleasant combination of drowsiness, the lingering sting on your funny-bone, and the overall irritation climbing up your spine from Harry preventing you from going straight to sleep, you answered his stupid question with pure impatience. “His name is Max, and I had a lot of fun, actually.” You ended your statement with a sigh. The sound came off as more of a swooning sigh, but that was completely unintentional. You were just exhausted and you honestly didn’t feel like staying up even later just for your step brother to tease you about a guy you just hung out with. “Ah, I see…” he hummed, staring you and your body down as if it were his property to defend.

Max was just a friend, but Harry wasn’t convinced of that. It certainly didn’t help matters that you’d returned home so late wearing the not-so-conservative outfit you’d chosen to wear.

But you'd only participated in a movie marathon, and you both just lost track of time. Honestly—that was it. Sure, there may be a possibility that Max has a little crush on you. But he’s never tried to make a move on you or cross any boundaries. He’s nothing but a kind, funny, respectful gentleman towards you, and you value his friendship.

Harry has met him in person a few times and he’s always put on this protective older brother persona as some intimidation tactic to make Max nervous whenever he comes over. It’s like he’s a jealous boyfriend or something, except he’s your step brother, and he essentially has no valid reason to act the way he does. Regardless, you still had to put up with the grump and his accusatory attitude after every interaction you have with your friend.

“…Hope you kids at least used protection…” Harry’s expression grew even more resentful, but to his surprise, your face immediately reflected the same. “Wha—what the fuck, Harry?!” You whisper-yelled, stomping all the way towards him with your arms crossed over your middle. The man just propped his leg upon his opposite knee and huffed in disbelief. “Oh, c’mon, Y/N. Don’t play coy w’me. Everyone knows he’s dying to fuck you—”

“—Stop! He is not!”

“Ok. Keep tellin’ y’self that, babe—”

“—Don’t fucking call me that.” You held out an accusatory finger at him.

“Oi, whatever. I just hope he’s got a fresh box of Trojans at his place.” You made a face at him. “Ugh, just shut up, Harry.”

He hummed, dropping his leg down so he could spread his knees wide and sit back against the couch cushion with his hands behind his head. “Hmm…oh, by the way…” He slowly stood to his feet, towering over you as if he were twice your size. You felt the remnants of whatever power or tenacity you had slip from your lips in a tiny whimper as his chest brushed against yours and your nipples perked up at the contact even through the layers of your clothing. You swallowed dryly. The lack of decent moisture in your mouth almost made you choke.

Harry leant down so his lips and stubble tickled your cheek. “…Don’t you ever tell me what I’m allowed to call you. I can speak to you however the fuck I want. You understand me?” His voice was deep and harsh, his accent thick. It only got like that when he was serious. I guess this was one of those times. Your heart sunk to the floor. He carefully pulled away and you were actually quite aroused by his display of dominance…at first.

Your step brother was just trying to get a rise out of you. His method of doing so was really fucking hot and you desperately wanted to be a good girl so he’d reward you later…but that’s not what this was. No. Harry wanted to use your crush on him to his advantage. But guess what? You weren’t gonna let Harry walk all over you. Not when he got to have his fun making his way around the neighborhood with all the desperate housewives and their newly divorced 40-something friends.

He acted like he wanted you—like you were his. Except he was only interested in bedding the local cougars and milfs. You weren't either of those things…i.e.: you weren’t his type. And so why would you want to waste your time sneaking around with your STEP BROTHER, of all people, when he’d just humiliate you and leave you for someone more experienced anyway? It wasn’t worth the pain of rejection nor the embarrassment once mom and dad would eventually find out.

And so, instead of putting on your ‘good girl’ act, you glared at him. “HA! I don’t think so, you asshole. Fuck off!” Your voice was a bit more amplified than intended, but it didn’t seem to stir any commotion upstairs. Phew…

Harry, however, seemed to think you were a ticking time-bomb. Clasping a palm over your mouth as his other hand held the back of your neck over your hair, he shushed you and held you still whilst you struggled against his firm hold with flailing, combative arms. Your eyes were wide, your brows scrunched in frustration, and every muffled whine and grunt only further entertained Harry as he chuckled and held you tighter.

You pried his fingers off your lips just long enough to spit out the words, “L-Let go of m-me…you idiot!”

Harry laughed and replaced his fingers over your mouth where he previously had them. “And what are you gonna do ‘bout it, you little brat?” His lips curved up into a sneer. If you had the energy, you’d pounce right back at Harry and claw at those stupid fucking dimples until they were unrecognizable due to the scratches. Alas, your eyelids were becoming heavier with each blink and you were close to collapsing onto the floor. The two of you just stared at each other for a few dragging moments, quietly contemplating one another’s next move. But lack of energy was getting the best of both of you. Harry’s grip was weakening and your legs were wobbly.

You used the last ounce of oomph you had left to shut your step brother up for the night. Shuffling your feet, you nudged Harry backwards until he fell back onto his plush chair. You then stood right in between his spread legs, leaned down until your face was level with his—your hands on either one of his knees, slowly sliding up his meaty thighs and gently squeezing and raking your smooth nails up and down his sweatpant-clad legs. You never took your eyes off of him, but he allowed his eyes to drift down to your heaving tits which threatened to spill out of your tube top and bra, and then downwards to watch as your dainty fingertips and thumbs dared to graze his growing bulge. You fluttered your long, wispy eyelashes—your eyes dreamy and sleepy, but intoxicating nonetheless—and the words that flowed from your delicious, pink tongue into Harry’s entranced ears escaped your lips like they were silk ribbons caught in the breeze.

“Fine, Harry. Maybe I did let Max fuck me tonight…” Bluffing. Harry’s jaw tightened and you could see how hard he was clenching his teeth by how his veins by his temples were more visible. A smile was tugging on the corners of your mouth, but you didn’t want to blow it. So you continued, “…But I think what really got him going was when I told him I’m on birth control…” You grinned as your words drained the remaining seafoam green from his irises to make more room for his expansive pupils. Harry’s lips separated and his chest was rising and falling quickly. “…And you know what, I can’t really blame him…” you paused and reached your hand up to his head, gently combing your fingers through his soft, already-tousled curls. His hands were twitching and straining on the chair’s armrests. Then, dipping your head next to his ear and lowering to a whisper, you said, “…I like it raw.”

Harry huffed through his nose and smacked his head back against the cushion of his chair before he softly breathed out, “Fuck me…”

After that night, you’d conjured up a new fantasy where it would’ve been you and Harry curled up on the couch watching a movie marathon. Except in this scenario, you imagined sharing a blanket where all you wore was a skimpy little night dress as Harry spooned you from behind to keep you warm. And then, once you’d finally started dozing off in his arms, he’d lift the hem up and slowly glide himself back and forth against your pussy lips, coating himself with your dampness before eventually pushing inside of you so that you could also keep him warm. After all, it’s only fair that you share with your big brother.

.・゜゜・・゜゜・．.・゜゜・・゜゜・．.・゜゜・・゜゜・．.・゜゜

Harry’s shameless display of sin and indecency, jerking his dick off while you watched, left you with nothing but your soaked underwear, pulsing clit, and of course, questions. Was all that cum…for you? Your heart quickens as you rewind time in your mind for the thousandth time to admire your memory of Harry in his state of arousal. You think back further to how things had escalated to that point. You still can’t believe it. Harry had really yelled out for you just so you could be in the room when he…Jesus Christ! And what were you going to do once you got back home?! How could you act like nothing ever happened when you’d not only been denied an orgasm the other day, but then forced to watch Harry pleasure himself—to what seemed to have been you. Also, what was he hoping would come out of all this, anyway? No pun intended. What if you had a friend over and both of you had been at his door?! Ugh, nevermind. He would’ve loved having a bigger audience for his cocksure production.

Strangely enough, you feel both embarrassed yet incredibly powerful at the same time. Thinking over the specifics in your head pushes you to the conclusion that all of that cum had been for you. And, god, he asked you if you wanted to taste it. What if you’d actually accepted? Just a little taste, you think to yourself. Your mouth salivates as you imagine your lips wrapped around Harry’s sticky fingers and your tongue licking them clean—just like they had back in that laundry room; except your taste buds would only detect him. You envision your step brother holding your hair back so that you can lap up the remainder that had landed onto his laurels and all the way up to his butterfly tattoo. He made such a big mess of himself. If he put on the show just for you, why shouldn’t you give him the basic courtesy of cleaning him up afterwards? You catch yourself pouting at the realization that all of his delicious cum had gone to waste. What a shame. If only you’d been more grateful. He just wanted to share—GAH! NO, Y/N! That’s your STEP-BROTHER! Yeah, watching him bust one out as his hungry eyes devour you through his orgasm…well, that’s pretty fucked up as it is! He’s played plenty of pranks on you in the past. Surely, you can just pass this off as another one…? Yeah, right! You’d never be able to look him in the eye ever again. You wouldn’t be able to open his goddamn bedroom door ever again! At least not without picturing him laying back against his bed frame, his eyes all soft and sleepy, his hair messy and stuck to his forehead…and his big hand sliding up and down his lubed-up cock…then that hot, white fluid squirted out from his tip over and over again until his balls were drained.

Harry’s orgasm didn't just look intense, it most-definitely was. You knew it because his toes curled and flexed, his balls tightened, he almost choked on the air in his throat, and his legs were shaking by the time cum was shooting out of him. Every stroke was so deliberate and strategic. His fist would tighten around the head of his shaft and twist, and you saw how that made his hips thrust up off of the bed in reflex. The size of his load was impressive, and it raises your body temperature to fantasize how it’d feel to have it pumping inside of you. You remember studying him and memorizing each movement as if you were preparing yourself for a future occasion where it would be your hands doing all the stroking…but you keep having to tell yourself that you and Harry could never let things get that far. You’ll just use these mental notes on some other guy later, maybe Max? Nevertheless, that shocking performance of self-pleasure will be burned into your memory forever. You’re certain of it.

You wish you were disgusted. You should be. You shouldn’t have enjoyed it so much, but your body refused to react negatively to witnessing your step brother perform such lewd acts on himself. Honestly, all you want to do now is go home to the privacy of your bedroom and do the same to yourself. To use the events from earlier as your inspiration. Doctors recommend masturbation for stress relief all the time, don’t they? A therapist, however, would definitely have a problem with you fantasizing about fucking your step brother. After all, it’s not exactly the most conventional family dynamic.

Whatever, it doesn’t even matter. What matters is that seeing Harry masturbating had awakened something animalistic inside of you that you never knew was there in the first place. You didn’t know how much you wanted a—nay—wanted Harry’s big, thick, drippy, heavy, gorgeous cock to empty hot loads of cum so deep inside of you that it wouldn’t come out until a day later. Well, you didn’t know how badly you wanted him to specifically stuff your cunt full of his seed until right now.

As you walk out of the store with your shopping bag and receipt, you feel your phone buzz in your purse. You assume it must be your dad or step-mom checking in to see how things are at home. Lifting the screen up to your face, you’re immediately proven incorrect. The notification is not from your parents, but rather from Harry. You’re met with the contact photo of him paired with his message that reads:

“where u go, baby sis? 💔”

You scoff at his patronizing and just slide your phone back into your purse so you can continue browsing the shops. You couldn’t successfully distract yourself from Harry if you were texting him…it’s not like you’ve been thinking about him and his beautiful dick nonstop since you first left the house or anything…

*grumble-grumble*

Amidst all of your depraved sexual fantasies and your attempts to reject your physical attraction to Harry, you’d forgotten to feed yourself.

Yet another reason why you should’ve taken his offer, your inner monologue teases. You just scrunch your nose at your own thoughts, and then you remember you have leftover pasta from last night in the fridge. The growl in your tummy only intensifies from the anticipation of eating the cheese-filled noodles for lunch. A vibration goes off in your purse, but you ignore it. You’re feeling extra irritated now that you’ve realized how hungry and horny you are. It’s a lethal combination.

You make the desperate choice of buying an overpriced orange cream-sicle to hold you over for a bit—you actually started to feel lightheaded for a minute, there. As you’re sitting on a bench and sucking on the citrus sweetness, you take your phone out once again. There are more texts from Harry:

--12:30pm

“Miss u🥺👉👈” —12:39pm

“R u mad at me?”—12:45pm

“So u hate me n u want me 2 die😣” —1:07pm

Goddamnit. You huff a breath out your nostrils before sending a quick response.

“Go play with your foreskin, loser.” — read 1:07pm

You flip your phone face-down on top of your lap and continue to slurp on your ice cream. A couple minutes later, another buzz alerts you to check your notifications. Surprise—it’s Harry.

“That’s not very nice >:| besides, u know I already did that today🙄”—1:12pm

“How could I forget? I’ve been scarred for life thanks to you and your sorry excuse for a penis.”—1:13pm

“I think u accidentally sent that to me…I’ll send it to Max and let him know ur thinking of him😌”—1:15pm

You grunt and shove your phone back into your purse. Suddenly, you come to realize that your overwhelming desire/disdain for your step brother combined with your aggressive famishment has given you the necessary amount of confidence to return home and face the idiot without giving a flying fuck about the fact that you watched him bust a nut.

Of all people, Harry should be the one who’s embarrassed to look you in the eye after what he did. Why should you feel exposed when it was his bare cock and balls that were revealed to you in their entirety. Granted, Harry is quite gifted…but that’s beside the point!!! The point is that you are starving and you want those leftovers NOW! Harry can go fuck himself—Alone, this time!!!

.・゜゜・・゜゜・．.・゜゜・・゜゜・．.・゜゜・・゜゜・．.・゜゜

Once you pull up to your house, the only thing on your mind is that bowl of rich, buttery alfredo tortellini you’ve hidden in one of the vegetable drawers of the fridge. Diamonds are a girl’s best friend? Nah. Carbs are the ultimate ride-or-die when you’ve got mixed feelings about a guy. It doesn’t matter how many calories it is. You deserve it! You’ve had a long morning, and it was time for a tasty reward, goddamnit!

You open the door and slip your shoes off before making your merry way towards the kitchen, bags in-hand. The rich aroma of garlic and cheese dances its way into your nostrils and your heart immediately sinks. Your legs scurry themselves at a cartoonish speed towards the room where the smell is wafting out of. The kitchen island slows you down to a stop, your feet sliding against the hardwood floor. You drop your purse and shopping bag with a *clink* and a *plap*. You stand in place with your little hands balled into fists at your sides as you practically burn holes into your step brother’s face. He’s sitting atop one of the counter stools that’s placed opposite of you. Wearing only a pair of Calvin Klein boxer briefs and his cross necklace, you see the irony as remarkably twisted. Especially since he used his hand with the cross tattoo to perform such unholy deeds to himself.

Wonder what God thought about today’s Sunday morning semen brought to you by Harry ‘wanna taste?’ Styles, you fume internally.

Not only does it look as if he’s just gotten out of the shower, his hair damp and extra curly, and his tan skin a little dewy. But he’s sitting right in front of you, eating your leftover pasta—fresh out of the oven in its foil container, it seems. Your lunch that you’d been craving so desperately has been unfairly stolen from you. Harry just looks at you with his elbows resting on the marble and stabs into another steaming tortellino with his fork before swirling it around in the air, blowing on it, and popping it straight into his mouth—his teeth scraping against the fork in the process.

You feel that your skin is red hot and your hands are shaking. Your jaw is clenched, your teeth grinding together in frustration. This man has no goddamn shame. None whatsoever. Just when you’re about to give him hell, he’s sliding your shopping bag towards himself with his foot and is digging through your new purchases. “Oooh! What do we have here?” Harry hums mischievously.

Your eyes widen. You jump at him and you practically claw at his snooping hands like a feral cat. What you just bought at the mall was none of Harry’s business! Wasn’t it enough that he was consuming your food right in front of you?! “Give me that!” You yell, internally debating whether or not it would be helpful to use your teeth as a weapon in this situation. You decide against it for both of your sakes. You don’t want Harry to think you’re giving him a hickey—you know he’d use that against you in any way he could.

In the end, you aren’t strong enough to fight him off, and he yanks out the first thing he finds and holds it up above your head to an unreachable height(for you). If you were 10, you would try jumping for it, but you’re in your 20’s and you have a set of tits that unfortunately obey the laws of physics. The last thing Harry needs is your boobs bouncing in his face at the same time as he’s dangling your new pair of red, lacy, crotchless panties from his finger. And so you huff and back away with your arms crossed, reluctantly accepting your fate. Harry, now standing like a building beside you, lowers the piece of lingerie to his eye level so he can study them closely. He smirks devilishly once he discovers the special opening.

“Y/N-Y/M/N!” He clutches at the pearls around his throat mockingly with his other hand and gasps. If you rolled your eyes any harder, they would roll out of their sockets. You’re completely out of patience at this point. You’ve dealt with quite enough in the past 72 hours, and you could use a fucking break.

Just when you thought you’d gotten the final nail in the coffin, Harry swaps the underwear in the bag for a different item. Something bigger. Something that has discreet enough packaging to be mostly disguised, but the logo on the front of the box somewhat gives away what it is…

“Oooh! What’s Tracy’s Dog?” He grins, shaking the ominous black box next to his ear. “How ‘bout we have a lil’ look-see, hm?”

You sigh, “Harry…please.” He looks at you and smirks again. He seems to be amused by your new toy, but you’re not in the mood for his shenanigans right now. These were meant to be private items that no one except you were to have known about. It’s ruined when your step-brother is in on the secret, because now it’ll just be an on-going joke that he’ll never let you live down until something better(worse) takes its place. This is the worst day ever. You can’t wait until classes start again in the fall so you can spend as much time away from that pest of a man as possible without your step-mom feeling offended by your constant absence. Your go-to excuse would be studying—and even if you weren’t busy with school, you’d find something to study if anyone in your family caught word that you had free time. You can’t fucking wait to get out of this house.

Harry lifts the cover off of the box to reveal its contents. A neon pink vibrator—with some…extra advantages, as well. He chuckles and picks up the manual, reading out, “Clit-sucking g-spot vibrator…woah, that sounds like a good time!”

Your eyes narrow at the man, hiding that you’re suddenly aware that he’s only wearing his underwear and that he’s also sporting a little bit of a semi. However, you’re trying your damned hardest not to look directly at it. It’s peeking out from the edge of your peripherals. In the process of fighting against temptation, your mind reverts back to a couple hours prior…when Harry’s hair was wet with sweat. His skin was shiny and glossy, but not nearly as reflective and oiled up as his erection. The sounds keep echoing through your ears. Shlick, shlick, shlick. Your step brother shamelessly voiced his ecstasy to you as you stood in the doorway and admired him in a stunned silence. When you abandoned Harry in his post-orgasm haze, you’d initially planned upon seeking an innocent distraction to entertain your erotically fiendish train-of-thought—anything that would help get your mind off of what you’d just witnessed. That plan failed once you’d arrived at the mall and found yourself exploring the shelves inside Adult World. An employee there recommended the Tracy’s Dog toy that you bought and told you that it would “change your life.”

Desperate for anything that would occupy your time for the next several days stuck in the house with Harry, you yanked your credit card out to pay for it. The nice cashier then threw in a complimentary pair of crotchless panties and you were sent on your way. Your previous plan to seek an innocent distraction morphed into purchasing a g-spot vibrator that also had a clit-sucker on the opposite end—and in your mind, the new ‘plan’ was to go home, wash the new toy, charge the toy whilst convincing Harry to go see a movie with his friends or some shit…you’d play with the new toy until it “changed your life” and then you’d end your activities with the leftover tortellini. It sounded like a great night.

It’s too bad Harry had to go and fuck it all up for you right off the bat. Now, you’re no longer sexually frustrated—you’re furious. You’ve had quite enough. Snatching the box from his hands, you shove at his bare chest and whine, “Harryyy!” He stumbles backwards a step or so, not expecting you to get physical with him. “Oi, ‘the fuck’s your problem?” His brows crease, him obviously puzzled by your sudden outburst. You’re upset, but you’re just as surprised at yourself as he is. You’ve never really pushed Harry before. Sure, you two are siblings—step siblings, but for the short time that you’ve lived in the same household, the two of you have always stuck to the verbal-type of quarreling.

In a way, even though he’s twice as strong as you are and you hardly used any force on him with that shove, you now almost want to apologize. But then you remember that you’re not in the wrong here. Harry is.

“My problem? You wanna know what my problem is, Harry?!” You raise your voice for emphasis. “You’re my fucking problem!” You start to step away towards the stairs, but you stop for a moment just to add, “And put that thing away, would you?! For Christ’s sake…” As you say this, you point to his crotch. Harry looks down and his hands smack over the front of his underwear to poorly cover his full-on boner which its unsheathed head was actually threatening to poke out from the waistband of the briefs. His cheeks flush a dark shade of pink as if he’s embarrassed, but you find it ridiculous that a mostly-concealed stiffy makes him blush when he’d had no problem performing as your personal little camboy just a few hours earlier.

You take your bag and purse and run up the stairs to your bedroom before slamming the door closed. At this moment, you wish your door could lock. Alas, you have to make-do trusting that your perverted step brother won’t barge in on you changing, or worse…

.・゜゜・・゜゜・．.・゜゜・・゜゜・．.・゜゜・・゜゜・．.・゜゜

It’s been one day since the thing happened, and tensions have finally dissipated somewhat between you and Harry. You’re still not happy with him—for several reasons—but he hasn’t added anything more to the list, which you see as a silver lining. He’d actually ordered from your favorite Italian place and replaced your leftover tortellini with a fresh new order of it. To ensure that you wouldn’t worry about him repeating his offense from yesterday, he ordered two entrees for himself so that he’d have plenty of food left over and wouldn’t have any reason to touch yours.

You’re honestly delighted by Harry’s kind gesture. It’s unexpected, for sure. But a welcome surprise, regardless. After the two of you finish eating, you insist upon doing the dishes. It’s not like there’s much for you to do, but you want to make it known to him that you’re appreciative of his olive branch offering.

You’ve been in the kitchen for a while now—probably around 30 minutes—just cleaning out the fridge, dusting, scrubbing the counters, all that junk. You don’t know how much time has passed until the sun has finally set and you need to flick the lights on to see what you’re doing. You’re just about finished, washing your hands in the sink, when you feel a pair of hands grip around your squishy hips. “Sup, lil sis.” A voice hums deeply against the shell of your ear. The combination of unanticipated touch and sound makes you instinctually jump. “AHHH! Harry!” You gasp. You grab a towel to dry your hands and then you turn around to face him. A stupid smirk covers his stupid, cocky face. And yet you can’t help that tingling warmth that burns down your abdomen and zings its way straight to your sensitive clit.

You haven’t seen this smirk since he unboxed your magical clit-sucking vibrator contraption. It’s still in its box under your bed—charging, of course—because you’ve wanted to try it out when you have the house to yourself. You have the tendency to say some dirty things out loud when you touch yourself, and so you’d really like for Harry to be as far away from you as possible…even though you know he’s exactly who you’ll be thinking about, anyway…

This was so bad.

All you want right now is to jump up onto the counter and tug Harry in by his hair until his head is trapped between your thighs. The ache is killing you. Your step brother, of all people, is the one man you want to rail you against every surface in this goddamn house. You don’t care if the neighbors see. You don’t care if your parents find out. You just want your step brother’s cum. It’s yours. He’s made that clear to you. His cum is all for you. All for his pretty little step sis.

As you stand trapped with your bum pressed against the sink, his hands on either side of you, Harry speaks to you once more. “How’d it taste?”

You gulp at his words and hesitate. What’s he talking about? You never got to—ohh! He means…dinner…damn, your brain was really fucked.

“G-good, thank you.” Your voice ends with a nervous giggle. His eyes scan down your body before nodding and running a hand through his hair. “Hmm. I’m glad. M’sorry, again, by the way…” He bites on the inside of his lip shyly, looking genuinely apologetic for making you upset. You give him a forgiving smile and rub his upper arm and shoulder with one of your hands. “It’s ok. It’s my fault, too…” You humor him. “…I should really learn how to share with my big brother...” As your fingers caress and squeeze onto his muscular bicep, you blink your eyes up at him in faux-innocence. Harry’s lips part and his nostrils flare.

Your touch, no matter how light or seemingly harmless, has a serious effect on the man. You can reckon because simply grazing your fingers down his taught, tatted skin past the sleeve of his shirt—making prolonged, direct contact—has triggered his feral reflexes. Without a moment of delay, he’s flipped you around, pressed you face down against the countertop, and has your wrists held in one of his hands at the small of your back. He nudges your legs apart with his knees so that his other hand can slide in between them. 4 of his fingers massage up and down your covered slit in a swirling motion, applying more pressure when he knows he’s reached your clit. You’re just stuck in his grasp, your ass wiggling and grinding against his hand as you moan and beg. “Mmhh…Please, Harry…so good…feels so fucking good…oh my god!”

You feel him squeeze your clothed clit with his thumb and forefinger as he speaks against your ear, “Ooh, yeah? You like it when your step brother touches you like this?” Then he releases you before spanking you on your pussy and then rubbing it with his fingers again afterwards.

“F-fuck—yes! I love it,” you gasp.

Harry yanks you up by your hair, one hand holding your ponytail while the other still has your wrists manually bound. “I knew it. Knew you were holding out f’me.” He drags you stumbling over to the couch in the living room and positions you onto all fours atop the cushions. Now properly situated for him, you turn your head back to look at him. You can feel how dark your eyes have gotten by how narrowed your focus is—all you see is Harry.

Keeping eye contact with you, he smooths his palms up and down your ass. Your leggings are thin enough for him to squeeze at the fleshiness of which he immediately takes advantage of. You moan, shaking your ass and hips back to further entice him. “Shit…” he pants out. You giggle and do it again which in turn earns you a hard spank onto your right ass cheek. You immediately stop your taunting. Harry grabs you by your hair, wrapping it around his fist and pulling you up to his chest with one swift yank. “We’re not just playing around anymore, Y/N…” Harry grunts in your ear. With his opposite hand, he gropes onto one of your breasts causing you to whine and arch your back at his unforgiving, heavy touch. He doesn’t seem to be concerned with the possibility of leaving marks and bruises all over your body. And you aren’t either. You’re enjoying this. Your desperate, throbbing cunt is aching for more of your step brother’s touch. It’s sick. It’s depraved. Your friends, parents, distant relatives—they’d be disgusted if they saw what was about to transpire between two step siblings.

Your thoughts on the matter?

Let them fucking watch.

Harry releases you and you drop down onto your hands. With quick and reckless fingers, he pulls your leggings over the swell of your ass, tugging back and forth to get them down your thighs to reveal your new red, lacy, crotchless thong. Your pussy lips glisten with arousal. Harry chuckles to himself once he’s rid you of your pants and smooths his hands up and down your bare ass. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this…” He admits with a hard slap against your right ass cheek. You face forward and blush to yourself, too shy to openly share the same truth. Although, you assume you’re making it pretty obvious to him that the feeling is mutual. “…When I fingered you a few days ago, I was so close to just fucking you right there against the machines…so close, Y/N.”

Before you can even make an attempt at a delayed response, he’s dipping his face between your legs and licking a fat stripe up your slit, stealing your wet arousal onto his tongue for his own selfish quench. You suck in a shaky breath and giggle, wiggling your ass back against his face. He groans and spanks you on your left cheek, then the right, then the left, then both at the same time, and then he grabs at your hips and pulls you closer towards him as he shoves his mouth and nose deeper into your drippy cunt and slurps you up. “Oh my god!” You choke out as you struggle to find something to solidly grip onto.

Harry pushes his sweatpants and boxer briefs down, his solid cock already weeping with precum and begging for a wet hole to fuck. His face is still buried between your legs when you take a peek at him from down below, your head upside down, and you see his package in all its beauty. You’re so ready to take him inside you, but you need to take care of something first. You whine, “W-wait, Harry, wait!”

He halts, pulls himself out from the comfort of your squishy thighs, then returns your gaze with his confused one. “What?” He slurs, his voice wet and drooly.

You shift your body so that you’re completely facing him now. “C-can I…?” Your thighs instinctively squeeze together before the words can even come out of you, and you let out a pathetic whimper. Harry licks his lips and wipes his chin with the back of his hand. “Can you…what?” His brow quirks up.

You don’t know if it’s a good time to ask this, but you’ve already started asking, so you might as well finish. You doubt he’ll refuse…but you also worry that you won’t get fucked if he grants you this request. What if this moment is the only chance for your desperate needs to be met?!

“Can I have a taste? J-just a lil’ one?” Your eyes flicker down to his bouncing erection that he’s now caught onto and is slowly stroking.

Silence. All except for the soft, wet rubbing sound coming from Harry carefully jerking his own cock whilst you’re sitting pretty on your knees with your hands laced together behind you.

You sigh and bow your head, attempting to hide behind your ponytail due to feeling embarrassed to have given such a silly request. But you know better than to sulk and complain after not getting your way. So you use your cuteness to guilt him instead.

“Please, Harry?” You’re really playing it up. Tears have actually welled up in your eyes to add to your act.

Harry blinks several times as if he had just been stuck staring into space for a moment. He’s dumbfounded, never having any woman beg to suck his dick before in his entire life. It’s a welcome surprise, and he shakes his head with a slight grin tugging on his lips as he responds to you. “Fuck yes, you can...go ‘head, love… sorry…fuckin’ hell…”

You practically jump up and happily clap your hands together, smiling stupidly at your success. Of course you realize that he’d only been floating around in his own little world when you asked the first time, and it wasn’t at all that he was refusing to grant your wish. Regardless, you feel that Harry can’t resist you when you beg. Looks like you’ll have to use this power against him forever.

You take his flushed dick in your hand, replacing his, and slowly pump him a couple of times before lowering your face down to its level. You keep your eyes on Harry’s as you stick your tongue out and flick it against the exposed tip, tasting the small bead of precum that was leaking from it. It’s salty. Musky. It’s Harry. You moan, nursing onto the tip with strengthening suction as if to be begging for just one more drop. He hisses and grabs onto your ponytail once again. You release your lips from him with a pop, giggling due to the knowledge that you’ve finally got a hold on this man. Then you begin swirling your tongue around the entire tip before wrapping your lips around it and sucking once again, but gently and sloppily this time, drooling and dousing his cock with your spit. Then you softly drag your glossy mouth up and down the underside of his cock like it’s a melty ice cream cone. Harry swears under his breath and takes his phone out of his pocket. He slides his thumb over the screen, opens the camera app and he clicks the record button. Your eyes flicker up towards the lens and you smile before sticking your tongue out flat and smacking Harry’s cock down onto it several times.

You’ve never been recorded doing such lewd things before, but you trust Harry. You know how protective Harry is over you, so there’s no way in hell he’d let anyone see something that’s only meant for him. This is just a dirty little secret that you’ll always share as step siblings. You guess it’s something that’s bringing you closer together. Or maybe you’re both just sick and disgusting.

You then hold onto the base of him with both hands and dribble a good amount of spit down onto him. Your fingers smear it all over his shaft until he’s completely covered, and you begin pumping him with one of your dainty hands as best as you can. You beam up at the camera and to Harry again, biting your lip, and you bow your head back down to lick all the way up from his balls to his slit. Harry pets his hand through the long, silky hair of your ponytail. The gesture feels loving and kind. You love the thought that he’ll save this video on his phone to watch later. You love to think about him thinking about you. And so you want to make a show out of this as much as you can before Harry can’t take it any longer and makes you stop.

You take his cock and wet it a bit with some extra saliva before bobbing your head up and down, letting it slide against your tongue over and over again slowly. Eventually, this starts to get a little messy, but nothing too bad. Your spit is just leaking a little from the corners of your mouth. However, you decide to kick it up a notch and take him deeper. You bob your head on him so that the head of his cock nudges your throat several times in a row until you are forced to let go and are gasping for air. Drool is dripping from your chin, your cheeks and lashes are wet with tears, and your eyes are clouded with pure lust as you stare up at Harry as he half-assedly points his phone camera at you and gawks at the sight before him simultaneously. His eyebrows are furrowed and his mouth is gaped. This has been much more than just a little taste by this point. It doesn’t seem as though either of you could give a shit, as both of your minds are completely empty and neither one has hesitated or slowed down.

You finish the ‘performance’ by slapping your cheeks with Harry’s dick, still staring up at him as you do, and he twitches in your hand. The power you hold over him causes your sticky arousal to drip down your thighs and you end up rubbing them together to hold yourself over. Harry ends the recording, tosses his phone onto the carpet, and tugs on the back of his t-shirt, pulling it off. You resume your previous position on all fours. Your ass is stuck up high and perfectly accessible for him as he aligns himself up with your core. He rubs himself up and down your pussy to coat himself with your drippy essence. “I’m gonna fuck this cunt whenever and wherever I want…can’t be wasting my cock on any other slag…it should only go in here.” As he pronounces the last word, he pushes himself inside you all in one thrust. Your body arches in retaliation and you grasp onto the couch cushions with your shaky fingers. Harry wastes no time to let you adjust to his size and stretches you out by aggressively smacking his hips against your ass without mercy. It’s like you’ve been thrown into the middle of a race and it’s impossible to keep up. Your body is pounded into the couch until your knees fail to support you and you’re being yanked up to lean over the couch’s arm by your hair so that Harry can continuously bottom out until his balls slap perfectly against your clit with every plunge. And Harry’s not a silent ‘lover’ by any means. He’s proudly announcing his pleasure to every brick of this house to hear. You also learn how degrading his mouth can get as he continuously steals more and more of your innocence.

“Shit…your body was designed f’me, y’know that? Just f’me…just for your step brother to use as his little cocksleeve…” he seethes into your ear after having shoved his entire length into you and pausing for you to flutter and tremble from your insides out.

Your cunt is insanely wet, and you can feel that you’ve completely soaked through the cushions already.

(You’ll have to figure out how to handle that later…)

It’s as if Harry’s cock makes your hole splash every time it enters it. You’ve gotten to the point where you don’t know how much time has gone by, you can hardly breathe, and you honestly can’t tell whether or not you’ve basically just been orgasming over and over for the past several minutes straight. He’s pounding into your cervix so hard that it’s painful and you’re starting to whimper helplessly. Thank God your cats have chosen to mind their own business this time and are upstairs sleeping, because they’d probably develop some sort of innate hatred towards Harry after witnessing something of which, to the uncorrupted eyes of a domesticated animal, definitely looks violent in a bad way. What a time that would be trying to explain to your parents why your cats have been defending you with their very lives, triggered by even the smallest glance from your step brother. If this ever happens again, you’ll need to make sure it’s done in guaranteed-complete privacy.

You can feel hot tears streaming down your face from the force of Harry’s thrusts that have bruised his cock head against your cervix, but you don’t want any of it to stop. “Fuck, baby. Love it when you squeeze me like tha’…” he groans, gripping tightly onto your fleshy hips and lifting them up each time he slams his lower half into you. The atmosphere is tainted with the mixture of your sexes. The only consistent sounds are your gasping breaths and the *slap-slap-slap* of your jiggling ass clapping against Harry’s pelvis.

As you’re leant over the couch armrest, the carpet tickles your out-stretched fingertips and you feel braindead. Your thoughts are nonexistent—the only matter you can internally comprehend is satisfying the man connected to you. All you want is his cum; you want to be filled to the brim with it. You want to be overflowing with your step brother’s sticky seed so that you both can watch it drip out of your fertile cunt once he eventually has to pull out of you.

His thrusts are now becoming stuttered and shallow, losing their original relentless rhythm. You choke on a wet gasp as you feel your step brother’s rough hands grip onto your ass before harshly spanking it. Harry drags out a growling groan and pulls you back up to his chest by your ponytail, then wraps his other hand around your throat, still fucking you on his cock. You hold onto the arm that’s holding you up by your neck as he seethes into your ear, “I was gonna cum all over your pretty face, my pet…” *slap-slap-slap* “…But now I think…” *slap-slap* “…I’ll fill up this tight little pussy, instead…” You moan loudly, your head falling back to rest against Harry’s shoulder as he continues to sloppily pound into your slick hole. He bites your ear and slides his choking hand down to your loosely-covered breasts to tease and grope them during your final moments of intimacy. He flicks your nipples with both of his thumbs as you both reach the highest peak together—you having reached it for the upteenth time this session. Harry cries out, his hands now completely circled around your torso and holding you down onto his squirting cock. You’re rocking your hips forwards and backwards, your internal walls pulsing and milking him of every last drop until he’s shaking from overstimulation. Still having one left in you, you reach your hand down between your legs and circle your clit, swiveling atop of Harry’s un-softening cock. He shakily guides you by your hips, whimpering and gasping at the intensity he’s feeling in his extremely sensitive organ. Shockingly, as you’re fucking yourself to another orgasm on his cock, you feel a couple more small jets of cum shoot out inside of you; and as you look back at Harry, he’s a sweaty, whiny, weak, mess of a boy who’s been milked of all he’s got. You giggle, grinning victoriously at him before clenching your cunt and pulling off of him—attempting to keep all his cum inside of you. Some of it drips out, but you shove it back inside with your fingers. Harry watches with glossy eyes, rosy cheeks, and baited breath.

You steal his boxer briefs off of his calves and slip them on over your crotchless panties. Harry is laying back against the couch cushions, his glistening cock throbbing and slowly softening against his abdomen. Before you scamper upstairs to change your sweaty clothes, you give Harry one last goodnight present.

You grab your phone from the coffee table and click record. Then, you kneel down onto the floor between Harry’s legs, pointing the camera at his nude and spent form. You giggle to yourself and take his cock in your free hand. The camera picks up Harry’s face as he jumps, his eyes widening and his abdomen tightening in defense. You flip to the front camera to record yourself as you lick the remnants of both you and Harry combined off of his still-stiff dick, and you make sure to swirl your tongue around the tip before giving it a good suck—releasing him with a *pop*.

“Ahhh, fuck!” He whines.

You end the recording and kiss his swollen erection tenderly, making him squirm and giggle. You smile at his newly-expressed vulnerability. Harry realizes his mistake and straightens his posture. “Hm…uh…send that to me later, yeah?”

You smirk at him. “Sure thing, loser.” With that, you stand up and take off up the stairs with your phone.

.・゜゜・・゜゜・．.・゜゜・・゜゜・．.・゜゜・・゜゜・．.・゜゜

Sorry for the long wait, everybody! I hope you liked it!

Please follow, like, and reblog - and let me know if you want more of this kind of content! My requests & my inbox are always open! Hope everyone has a lovely week! ❤ xoxo,

༺♥༻❀༺♥༻ Regan ༺♥༻❀༺♥༻

195 notes · View notes

famousinuniverse · 1 month

Text

Bahnhofstrasse Street, Zürich, Switzerland: Bahnhofstrasse is Zürich's main downtown street and one of the world's most expensive and exclusive shopping avenues. In 2011, a study named Bahnhofstrasse the most expensive street for retail property in Europe, and the third most expensive worldwide. In 2016, the street ranked ninth. Wikipedia

#Bahnhofstrasse Street #Zürich #Switzerland

60 notes · View notes

joshsindigostreak · 4 months

Text

I See Hell in Your Eyes

Chapter Seven

“Our hearts are wrong.”

Josh Kiszka x Vampire!Reader

Authors Note: A CHRISTMAS MIRACLE!!! So sorry for the delays y’all working retail around the holidays is absolute Hell. Enjoy this little chapter before we begin the new year with the *real* plot of this little universe. Buckle up.

Word Count: 4778

Warnings: Violence, death, mentions of past abuse (but it is very brief and not dwelled on), SMUT at the end but nothing too graphic or crazy.

The emotions you felt as Josh drove the both of you to the location Jake texted him were conflicting. Part of you was annoyed that you didn’t get to curl up in your bed with your hunter after that shower, another part of you loved how cozy you felt in his car; hand secured on your thigh. But another part of you, the loudest part, was reminding you of your reality. If Jake was telling the truth, and he indeed caught whomever in the act, that would mean Josh would be one step closer in closing his case. The hypotheticals of what would happen after that case was closed taunted you. The only reason he showed up in your city was to find the Vampire in question and get rid of them. Once that happened, there would be nothing tying him to the city anymore. He could pack all of his things in the very Jeep you were sitting in, and drive back west with his family. He could go back to his everyday life, get assigned another “job” and take off for the next adventure.

But what about you?

Josh could feel the muscles in your thigh tensing as you battled your own thoughts, and his thumb rubbed circles into your skin. He glanced over at you curiously, wishing he could know what you were thinking. You were absently staring out the window, brows furrowing every other minute as if you were arguing with yourself. He too, was a little miffed your little rendezvous at your apartment was cut short due to his twin.

“Hey,” he broke the silence, his voice soft, “where do you keep going, over there?”

You shook your head slightly, braving a smile at him, “nowhere…just tired.”

He wasn’t fully convinced, but didn’t want to argue, “well, after we finish seeing Jake’s little show-and-tell we can go back to your place and you can show me how cozy that bed nook of yours is before sunrise…”

Your mouth tilted up into a smirk, “are you becoming nocturnal for me, Boy Scout?”

This caught him off guard, was he? He let out a breath through his nose and disguised it with a chuckle. He squeezed your thigh again, smiling as he felt the muscles in your leg relax.

It didn’t take long to reach the street corner Jake had texted Josh; a narrow side street with one way traffic. You looked around to see how many people were on the street, and were relieved when it was practically deserted at this time of night. As Josh parked next to the curb, a very impatient looking Jake stepped out from an alley between the two main buildings on the block.

“Took you long enough,” he said, rolling his eyes as you exited the vehicle.

“We’re here, aren’t we?”

Jake opened his mouth to argue more, but stopped and huffed out, “just…come on.” He turned on his heel to lead the two of you back into the alley he had just come from. It was fairly empty as far as alley’s go, but what hit you as you followed Jake was the smell of human blood. The scent was so strong you quickly pinpointed it to be O Positive, and that there was a lot of it. Your gums itched at the smell, and you were thankful you had topped yourself off with a blood bag before you left your apartment. Josh had volunteered to help you, but you refused as you still felt it was too soon since the incident at the Den.

The scene that unfolded before you, as Jake led you further down the alley, shouldn’t have shocked you as much as it did, but it stopped you in your tracks. Leaning up against the brick wall was a man appearing to be in his forties, maybe late thirties, with a substantial wound on the side of his neck. Blood was pouring out of him quickly, staining his clothes and starting to puddle next to him. CiCi was crouched down next to him, mumbling what you thought were spells under her breath, trying to heal him. The man didn’t have much time at all, but the only thing to give him a chance was if he drank some of your blood.

Shaking off your nerves, and trying to control how you felt around that much blood, you quickly moved around Jake and crouched down on the other side of him. With a brief look at your hunter, you bit down onto the flesh of your wrist, breaking the skin over the veins and tendons. CiCi backed out of the way, realizing what you were doing. Quickly but gently you took the man's jaw into your hand and pried his mouth open. He was barely conscious, but he was able to barely open his eyes in confusion.

“Trust me you’ll thank me later,” you explained as you curled your hand into a fist, allowing the blood to drip from your wrist into his mouth. The man tried to fight it at first but as soon as the coppery liquid hit his tongue, he lifted his mouth higher to get closer to you. It was a little known secret that Vampire blood was a delicacy among humans. Not only for its healing properties, but because it was the downer of all downers. Supposedly it put humans into such a relaxed state, time would almost slow down for them. Because of this, it was highly addictive, but you didn’t have much of a choice.

“What happened?” Josh questioned.

“We were walking back to the car from-” Jake started, but Josh cut him off.

“Please tell me he took you to dinner,” he gave a pointed look at CiCi.

The witch gave the older twin an exasperated look, “yes he did. It was lovely.”

You were still giving the man blood but you were curious, “where did you go?”

“That little Italian restaurant around the corner? ‘Casa Oliva’?”

Your eyebrows shot up, “oh I’ve heard good things about that place!”

“Can we focus here?” Jake interjected.

You turned back to the man, seeing that your blood was slowly working to heal his gaping wound. The man started to stir as he healed and you kept your other hand on his shoulder to keep him still. The last thing you needed was for him to bolt without getting Persuaded to forget any of this happened. As soon as his neck fully closed, you took your wrist away from his mouth and let it heal itself at your side.

Looking him in the eyes, your Persuasion dripped from your voice, “tell me what happened.”

He focused entirely on you as he spoke, “I was walking home…and I kept feeling like I was being followed, but every time I turned around no one was there. The next thing I knew, I was dragged back here and he was…biting me…she tried to get him off of me but…,” the man's voice gave out slightly.

“What did they look like?”

“Young…I think…it was pretty dark? She kept telling him he was taking too much, too fast, but he wasn’t listening.”

You nodded and looked back at Jake and Josh over your shoulder. Before you could voice your assumptions, an old friend's familiar pleading echoed in the alley.

“Ethan no, we have to go home, I have bags for you there,” the sound of heels scraping on pavement was harsh, and clear she was trying to hold him back. It was just what you feared, and suspected. But you needed to get this human out of harm's way.

You locked eyes with him again, “go home and forget any of this happened. Don’t question the blood on your clothes, just throw them out. Nothing out of the ordinary happened tonight.” The man looked a little dazed but nodded, and you helped him up quickly. He stumbled slightly as he exited the alley, but you were sure he’d be ok the closer he got to his home.

Jake looked at you skeptically, “that's it?”

“Trust me he’ll be-”

Before you could finish, the lumbering steps of Ethan got even closer to the group, and you squared your shoulders in preparation. He emerged from the other end of the alley, with a frantic Monica trying her best to pull him in the other direction. His mouth and neck were covered in blood, and showed just how ravenous he had been while feeding. Behind you, Jake pulled out two stakes out of his inner jacket pocket, quickly handing one to his twin. CiCi stood up from her crouched position and took her place next to Jake.

Monica recognized you instantly and the relief on her face was evident even from a distance, “it's ok! I’m just taking him home!”

Ethan looked down at the ground where the human once was and his features twisted angrily at you, “what did you do?”

You scoffed, “I would ask you the same question but its all over your fucking neck and clothes.”

“I wasn’t done with him.”

Monica tugged even harder on his arm, her own Vampiric strength failing her against him, “yes you were and we were going home…”

“Enough,” he shouted and pushed her off of him, sending her backwards a few feet. He turned back and saw Josh behind you, his eyes shining with curiosity, “I guess it's ok…he’ll do...”

“The fuck you will,” knowing exactly what he was wanting to do, you met him halfway and tried to shove him against the brick wall closest to you. Your age worked in your favor, as being over three centuries older than Ethan meant you were far stronger than him. But true bloodlust is a powerful thing, and it was obvious that was Ethan’s problem. He shoved you off of him, sending you to the ground, before running right for Josh. He tackled him to the ground quickly, happening way too fast for anyone else to properly react.

Josh was using all the strength he had to keep Ethan from nipping at his neck, and he tried to roll him over to gain control but was unsuccessful. He managed to wedge the hand that was holding the stake flat against his own chest, using Ethan’s distracted state to his advantage. With one last forceful push, the hunter was able to flip the stake up and directly into the center of Ethans chest. A shocked look overcame the Vampire’s features, and the familiar yellow tinge invaded the white of his eyes, and his skin turned an ashy gray. Ethan’s death rattle wasn’t any different from the other Vampire’s Josh had slain, but part of him couldn’t help but feel sorry for the bastard. Once he was fully limp Josh shoved him off of him, dusting himself off.

You breezed past the dead Vampire and instantly had your hunter’s face in your hands, checking all over for any scratches or injuries. His neck was unharmed, which flooded your body with relief that Ethan never actually sank his teeth in him. Josh’s expression was calm in a way you had never seen before, as if what just happened didn’t phase him.

“I’m fine, sweetheart, I’ve been through worse,” he whispered to you as his hands slid around and under your shirt, feeling the skin of your lower back. The implication of his words didn’t exactly comfort you, but you were glad that he seemed alright as your thumbs gently rubbed circles on the hinges of his jaw.

Jake looked at the two of you, not knowing how to feel watching a Vampire comforting his twin after another one had just tried to kill him. Josh was right, they had faced far more in their lives, but he still didn’t like how close that was.

A distraught Monica scrambled over to her lover’s corpse. Clutching his shirt and sobbing into his impaled chest. She looked up and over at you and Josh, eyes red with tears, “you…your Human Companion was a fucking hunter?”

You whipped your head around at her, “Monica I-”

“They’d have you Meet the Sun for that, you know that right?” She sniffed, tone flat and emotionless. “Leading one of them into a Den, and letting him kill one of us?”

You shook your head, “Ethan was dangerous, Monica and you kn-”

“HE DIDN’T HAVE TO KILL HIM!” she shrieked, letting go of his shirt.

“He didn’t have a choice, he was out of control,” you reasoned.

Monica wasn’t having it, and before any of you could react she lunged at Josh herself, but this time it was Jake that got between them first. It was almost graceful in the way he stepped between them, stake in hand and pointed at Monica. She was so overcome with rage she wasn’t paying attention, and quite literally ran into the stake herself, the wood plunging into her chest easily. Her shocked gasp was the last noise she made before crumbling to the ground.

Your eyes burned, hating that it ended this way. Monica’s biggest crime was being so lonely she turned the first person who gave her an ounce of attention. But Vampires like Ethan aren’t meant to exist. They’re not built for this life. This was why Dimitri was so selective in who got turned.

“We umm…we need to get rid of their bodies…,” you wobbled out.

“The sun will be up soon, I can take them out of town to burn,” Jake suggested.

Josh nodded in agreement, “need some help?”

Jake looked down at his watch and shook his head, “no we can handle it. The sun will be up in a couple hours, wouldn’t want you out too late…”

Josh opened his mouth to make a smart ass reply, but CiCi reached out and touched his arm, “it's fine, I promise.”

You gave one last look at Monica’s corpse before following Josh out of the alley, wanting to get back to your place as soon as possible.

~!~

You didn’t fully relax until the door to your apartment was firmly locked shut. Josh followed you into your living room as you collapsed onto your couch, worried about how quiet you had been since the alley. He sat down next to you and gathered you in his arms, feeling a little out of his depth with what had just happened. He always prided himself in his emotional intelligence, but there were layers to this situation that he, as a human, didn’t fully understand.

As soon as you felt his strong arms wrap around your shoulders, you buried your face into his neck, inhaling his scent. His entire presence was a comfort to you now, a plot twist you never saw coming.

“I’m sorry about Monica…I know she was your friend…,” he said carefully.

You sniffed sadly, “she should’ve known better…she was over one hundred years old. But it's always a gamble when you turn someone. Not every human can handle a second life. There’s a reason we’re so selective in who we turn. Vampire’s like Ethan aren’t an isolated incident, as you, a hunter, would know. Anyone who comes out of the first decade of being a Vampire, even partially well adjusted, is lucky, honestly.” He nodded, gently resting his cheek on the top of your head. “Looking back, it’s amazing I even survived those first few years…”

“Was it that bad,” he asked softly.

“My Maker wasn’t…he was hands-on in all the wrong ways,” your voice sounded far off, as if you were drifting back into memories you weren’t fond of. Josh’s entire body stiffened at the implication, and heat started radiating from his hands, causing you to sit up quickly, “no…not like that…it’s just, he didn’t actually teach me how to be a Vampire. He’d parade me around, showing me how to find humans, how to manipulate them into feeding on them, but that was it. He didn’t teach me control, in fact he wasn’t interested in that at all. He liked things…messy, and when you’re that young and new, you don’t know any better. It’s so easy to get swept up into the “cool” parts of Vampirism that you fail to think about the less than glamorous parts. The shitty thing is, Ethan had a Maker who wanted to show him all the right things, how to live properly, how to blend in with society…but he just wasn’t cut out for any of it.”

He hated the way your eyes looked so sad and distant, with tears threatening to bubble up at any moment. His mind revisited his plans to find your Maker and force him to Meet the Sun himself, but he shook the thoughts away and focused entirely on you. In the time he had known you, you had never looked small in your body language. You always had a presence about you that filled an entire room, with a smile to match. But now? Now you looked tiny on your couch, head hung low as you rubbed your nose, feet tucked underneath you. It struck him that you hadn’t even called him Boy Scout in hours. He glanced up at the clock you had hanging on the wall, noting the time.

Softly, he reached over to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear before offering, “hey, how much blood did you give that man?”

You leaned into his touch and shrugged, “I’m not sure I was just focusing on closing that wound in his neck. Why?”

His expression softened, “Just…do you need a pick-me-up after that? How does blood loss affect Vampires?”

Your eyes met his, suddenly feeling rather vulnerable under his gaze, “I heal pretty fast.”

“That wasn’t what I asked.”

Your lower lip disappeared between your teeth, and you remembered that the one bag you had downed before going back out had been the last bag in your fridge. Your hunter's heartbeat was growing louder in your head, and your gums started to itch. But no, it still felt too soon since the Den. Human fragility was the least of your concern, but when it came to the brown eyed man sitting on your couch, you couldn’t help but keep it in the back of your mind at all times.

Shaking your head, “it's still too soon, I’ll be alright until tomorrow-”

“I’m a lot tougher than you think, Sweetheart.”

You stared at him, eyes looking him up and down, mulling it over. He was right, he was tougher than he let on, but you were just scared of hurting him.

“Fine. But not a lot,” you relented shifting on the couch.

He smiled at you, already anticipating the feeling of your fangs buried in his skin. Your own expression brightened as he pulled you into his lap. You adjusted your position until you were firmly straddling him, and he reached up and grazed his thumb against the side of your mouth.

“Take what you need,” he all but whispered. The way he spoke to you sent chills down your spine, and caused your eyes to darken. Instinctively you leaned forward and nuzzled his neck, the scent of his gorgeous blood overwhelming your senses. You planted an open mouthed kiss on his neck, feeling his pulse underneath your lips. He shivered slightly underneath you, his hands flexing against your hips. You stilled, your breath fanning against his skin. He gave you one more squeeze before his thumbs started rubbing circles into your skin, letting you know he was ready. Your eyes fluttered shut as your fangs extended from your gums and locked into place. Unable to hold back any longer you surged forward, piercing his skin in expertise. A moan rattled out of his mouth, and he threw his head back as best he could. You smiled against his skin as you took your first pull. This time both of you moaned as his blood flooded your mouth. That citrusy tang hit your tongue first, then the vanilla snuck in, nearly taking over. There was something so bright about his blood, a flavor profile that was so uniquely him. It took all of your self control to not gulp him down.

He was practically writhing underneath you, loving every second of it. Any pain from the bite was eclipsed by the sheer pleasure that coursed through his system. He pulled you down harder onto his lap, desperate for some kind of friction. He didn’t care how needy he acted or sounded, if you were the cause he couldn’t help it. The feeling was heightened when he felt some stray blood trail down his neck. He could never get enough of his Vampire.

~!~

Twenty miles north, give or take, a hunter and his Witch were placing the bodies of two dead Vampires in a shallow pit he had dug minutes prior. The sky was getting lighter and lighter as the sun raced to the horizon, and their task of disposing of the bodies would be complete. Jake had been silent for most of the trip, trying to digest the absolute shit show the last two days had been for him.

CiCi knew what was bothering him, and carefully said, “stop over thinking, he was fine.”

He turned to her, “this time. He doesn’t realize just how vulnerable he is walking around like her glorified juice box.”

“It’s a lot more between them and you know it.” Jake scoffed and tried to turn back to the horizon, but CiCi’s hand caught his chin and turned him back to her, “you can’t deny how he was looking at her the entire time.”

“That’s what scares me. I know him, he never does anything halfway, I can tell he’s all in on…whatever they have…and I also know that it’ll be me to pick up the pieces should it blow up in his face,” his eyes burned into hers.

“He could probably say the same thing about you, my love.”

“You’re not-”

“...exactly human either, am I? I still haven’t met your parents because of it.”

“I just don’t see how it's going to work for them. She seems…alright but I don’t trust her.”

“Maybe this means you’re going to have to trust Josh. He didn’t even hesitate to put down that one,” she gestured to the corpse in the pit before her.

Before Jake could counter, the sun breached the horizon, its golden rays spreading across the field. Within minutes, the two corpses were engulfed in flames, the putrid smell filling the air. He reached into his inner jacket pocket, and pulled out a small cigar. It was a habit he started years ago, when he and Josh started going out on their own to hunt. He crouched down in front of the flames, leaning forward to light it before standing back up wrapping his arm around his Witch’s waist.

“It's so morbid that you do that.”

“You like it though,” he said, smirking at her.

She tried glaring at him, but her own muscles failed her as a smile slowly spread across her face. It didn’t take long for the bodies to be turned into ashes, and the two of them filled the pit back in to leave no trace. In Jake’s mind, the one good thing about Vampires was how easy it was to dispose of them. As long as you had the sun, the rest was easy. The sun was a hunter’s best friend, and one of the few constants Jake could rely on.

~!~

But as the trail of clothes leading to your bedroom suggested, your own hunter’s feelings towards the sun weren’t the same anymore. The two of you were safely tucked into your bed nook, curtains tightly shut and the wall sconces inside were turned on, giving a warm glow to the little nest. He had you underneath him, slowly and deeply pistoning his hips into yours. He was leaning on one elbow next to your head, while the other hand was tucked under your ass, gripping your cheek to get you as close to him as possible. His lips never left your skin, peppering kisses all over your face and neck, occasionally nipping at your flesh with his teeth. Your own arms were wrapped around his back, digging your nails into his muscles whenever he’d hit a particular spot deep inside you. This time with him was different. It was slower, more relaxed, as if he wanted to make a point to take his time with you.

A lot was weighing on his mind but he didn’t want you to pick up on it. The case he had been working on the last few months was officially closed, and therefore his initial reason for even being in your city was over with. Now that he had you, he didn’t want to leave, and he didn’t know how to break it to Jake. He wasn’t going to ask you to uproot your life and go back with him, especially now that he knew just how much you loved it here. But right now, he was shoving all those thoughts into a corner of his mind so he could properly focus on you. He was committing every sigh, moan, and cry of his name to memory. The way the slick heat of your walls gripped him, how your ankles locked together perfectly on his back, the way your hands gripped his hair as your lips devoured him. All of it was finding a permanent place in his brain.

You were doing much of the same, mesmerized by your lover above you. The birds and ambient street noise was filtering into your room as the world woke up. But the light from your wall sconces were casting a warm glow around Josh, nearly giving him a halo of light. It was rare that you genuinely missed the sun itself, as you had a difficult relationship with the wretched thing. But being wrapped up with Josh was probably the closest you had ever been to gentle daylight in the three centuries you had been alive.

His brows furrowed together in concern when he saw your eyes well up with stubborn tears, “you ok?”

You sniffed, willing your tears to stay in your eyes, “never better, Boy Scout.”

He smiled and captured your lips with his, speeding up his movements. It wasn’t long before you were both crying out, reaching your highs together.

Before you could even think about getting up, Josh was slowly detangling his limbs from yours to carefully pull back the curtain to gauge where the sun was in your room. Thankfully your nook was positioned in a way that kept it out of direct light, but he still barely gave himself enough room to slide out of bed and quickly shut the curtain behind him. You giggled at his attentiveness and listened to his footsteps sprint around the room as he shut your other curtains, blocking out the sun. The curtain to your bed slowly opened, revealing your smirking hunter.

After round two in the shower, you were back in your bed cuddled up with Josh. Sleep overtook you both, and the rest of the day was spent wrapped up in each other’s arms.

However, the peaceful slumber was interrupted by someone pounding on your door. Groggily you sat up at the sound, and looked at the time on your phone and the weather widget on the home screen. A low temperature and a crescent moon greeted you, letting you know the sun was fully down and it was safe.

Josh stirred behind you, “what’s going on…?”

“I don’t know…wait here.” You threw open the curtain as the pounding happened again, this time a little louder. Quickly you grabbed some clothes from your drawer across the room and dressed as you made your way down the hall.

Not being satisfied with how you answered that, Josh dressed himself as well and followed you to the door. You peered through the peephole before letting out a shaky breath and opening the door.

Two men in black suits were standing on the other side, sternly staring at you both.

In a cool voice, one of them said, “Mr. Nikolou requests your presence at his manor this evening, and he apologizes for the sudden call. He also wanted to inform you that this matter was very urgent, and that he would have a driver ready for you.”

“Sweetheart…what is it?”

The fear and anxiety bubbled up in your throat as you turned around to Josh, “Dimitri wants to see us…”

To be continued…

Tag List: @dannyandthekiszkas , @gretasmokerising , @sinners-go-to-drink-the-wine , @wideminded-dreamer , @runwayblues , @wildbluesorbit , @llightmyllovee , @rhythm-of-space , @sacredthefran , @writingcold , @alwaysonthemend , @wetkleenex-gvf , @josh-iamyour-mama , @lightsofthe-living-gvf , @gvfcinema , @sacredthethreadgvf , @losfacedevil , @jakekiszkasbuttsweat , @shutupdevvie , @hearts-hunger , @gretavanfleetposts , @ascendingtostardust , @mackalah , @andromeda-raine-gvf , @jake-kiszkas-smirk , @gracev0609 , @sacredjake , @earthlysorrows , @gvfpal , @myownparadise96 , @itsafullmoon , @gvfmelbourne , @twistedmelodies , @that-witchy-pan , @gold-mines-melting

#josh kiszka #josh kiszka x reader #josh gvf #greta van fleet #I see hell in your eyes #enemies to lovers #slow burn #my fics #🩸🖤

66 notes · View notes

am-i-the-asshole-official · 7 months

Note

AITA if I flipped off a customer?

Some background: I’ve recently started taking the bus to and from work. The area I work (retail) in is known pretty widely to be the city’s unofficial Red Light District, and there are a lot of full service sex workers walking along the main street at basically any time of day. If you are a femme-presenting person walking in that area, it’s highly likely that you’ll be mistaken for a SWer unless you take specific steps to avoid it. This is mostly a safety issue rather than one around how I’m perceived; I’ve had people pull up behind me to try and pick me up if my demeanor isn’t off putting enough.

Now the story: I (f, 28) was waiting at my bus stop after walking the two-ish blocks between my job and the stop. I was dressed in such a way that most ppl could likely tell I wasn’t a SWer, but I’d had a couple people honk/whistle at me regardless—of course some of this could be categorized as “regular” street harassment, but the nature of the area often makes people more brazen overall, so the reasoning is generally moot.

Here’s where I may be the asshole: when I was waiting at my stop, someone got my attention from a car across the street (can’t remember if they honked or whistled but I’m sure they didn’t use any actual words). I looked up to determine if it was directed at me, and indeed the person inside was waving at me, so I responded as I always do when someone on that street tries to get my attention, with a swift and firm middle finger. The person inside sort of kept waving, but they were also already driving off as the light had turned.

What I realized after a few hours of being home was that, based on where I was and the direction that person was driving, it’s highly likely that the person waving was someone I actually know from my job. Most of my customers are regulars, and we often see each other around the city.

Obviously I would feel terrible if this were the case, and of course I can’t know for sure unless a customer comes in and tells me that I flipped them off. I’m not holding any actual guilt about this unless that happens. So basically what I’m asking is: am I the asshole for automatically flipping off people who try to get my attention from their cars, even if it’s possible that they’re people I know?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

61 notes · View notes

davestone13-blog · 3 months

Text

Make it better, Roosevelt Island: Main Street Retail

A dull or dreary commercial street can be discouraging for both businesses and customers. There’s no question that Main Street retail on Roosevelt Island fits that description. But in the interest of improving underused community assets, we have some suggestions. There are many creative and effective ways to brighten things up and inject some vibrancy. Below are some of them, categorized by…

View On WordPress

0 notes

ukrfeminism · 4 months

Text

Women can buy period pants for £2 cheaper than current prices after the government abolished a tax on the product.

As of Monday, retailers including supermarkets Marks & Spencer and Tesco, as well as clothing shop Primark, have promised to pass on the savings (worth 16%) to customers.

It follows a campaign by retailers, women’s groups and environmentalists. Other period products such as sanitary pads and tampons have been exempt since 2021.

Women will save on average up to £2 on period pants, the government said. The pledge to scrap the tax was made by the chancellor, Jeremy Hunt, in the autumn statement.

In August, retailers including Marks & Spencer and the brand Wuka were among about 50 signatories of a letter to the Treasury which urged the government to remove VAT on period pants.

In the letter, they pledged to pass on any tax cut straight to customers “so they feel the benefit of the cost-saving immediately”.

Period pants are increasingly popular, and are now on sale from major high street brands, offering a sustainable alternative to single-use products such as tampons. The pants contain a highly absorbent lining and can be used in place of sanitary pads. They can be washed and reused, just like ordinary pants. Campaigners said that removing taxation would make them more affordable.

Period pants were not covered in the 2021 law change in which the “tampon tax” on period products was removed. This is because they were classed as “garments” and therefore considered exempt.

The letter from retailers in August said that period pants “have the power to reduce plastic pollution and waste”, and could save people money in the long term. They said: “One of the main barriers to switching to period pants is the cost.”

The financial secretary to the Treasury, Nigel Huddleston, said the change was a “victory for women” and for those who had “helped raise awareness” of the importance of this product.

VAT is paid at 20% on most products, except for some items such as books children’s clothing and most food.

Victoria McKenzie-Gould, the corporate affairs director at Marks & Spencer, said the company was “thrilled” with the decision.

“Nearly 25% of women cite cost as a barrier to using period pants so we know the new legislation that comes into effect from today will make a big difference to women’s budgets across the UK.”

The savings for women are subject to the VAT cut being passed on, with retailers pledging to play their part.

Laura Coryton, a tampon tax campaigner and founder of social enterprise Sex Ed Matters, said: “Ending the tax on period underwear will make a huge difference, particularly given skyrocketing levels of period poverty across the UK.”

#articles #health

30 notes · View notes

monstersinthecosmos · 4 months

Note

Okay so like your fics about Armand pegging Daniel are my Roman Empire and Armand just shows up with the strap right. But I GOTTA KNOW what was Armand’s experience like shopping for that item, how many stores did he go to, did he do research, did he ask the clerks weirdo questions??? How did he settle on the item, did he deliberate over realistic veiny dildos vs simple colorful silicone???

Inquiring minds need your headcanons!!! 🥸

fdfjhsDGA what an honor omg

So!!!!!!! Pardon this obnoxious little break down of where this shows up in my fics but I have some behind the scenes knowledge I can share that I carried between stories LOL. Okay so there are 4 fics that revolve around the first time they used a strap on, and the idea is planted in my FIRST FIC ON AO3 Moon Above, Sun Below where it’s literally just the last paragraph of the fic, they’re taking a walk, Armand sees a sex shop, and he’s like OMG!!!!! :D

Down Below is the DIRECT sequel to that moment, it picks up with Daniel’s POV immediately knowing that Armand IS going to be asking weirdo questions! And he’s like, oh my christ I can’t do this lol, and he goes to wait outside.

The cashier asked me if I knew what to do with them. He told me to be ‘Safe, Sane, & Consensual.’ It was on a sign at the register.” Daniel chuckled a little. “Why did he say this to me?”

LIKE WHO KNOWS WHAT ALL HE FUCKIN TALKED ABOUT IN THERE, I just always imagined him doing his Armand thing, wanting to catalog everything and learn everything and see and touch everything. The answer is yes, he did ask a million questions, yes, the cashier was a little freaked out, because even when we all like to say that no one can be weird in NYC, I think Armand was very fucking weird and uncanny in a way that actually did stick out to people.

And then the MAIN EVENT if you will is The Lotus Eater/Dust of the Saturn which contain the alternate POVs of the same scene. In The Lotus Eater, I tried to create a timeline and imply that this is one of Armand’s Things for a while that he’s interested in, like he wants to go to different shops and see things and buy things. They play with cuffs and restraints earlier in the fic because Armand wanted to play with them, and then later on Armand wants to WATCH ALL THE PORN, and he gets the strap on idea from seeing how Daniel reacts to it when they watch a video, so he goes out to find one.

I don’t think I said so in the fics but I imagined that Armand wanted to find one that was like the one in the video, so there was possibly a very odd Armand-eseque interrogation of the retail worker. LOL. Probably him describing it in an Armand way and the guy is like “……. Uh????????????? You mean a dildo? Like a black dildo? Okay?”

I wish I still had my notes and stuff because I know I had a few photos I had used for reference to describe it and I can’t find them now. I do know that I searched like 1980s sex toys/dildos/strap-ons pretty extensively because I wanted to make it historically accurate. I looked up pictures of sex shops to get an idea of how different they are from today and what the selection was like. I also had been looking up vintage lesbian porn to see strap ons because I was curious how the harness technology was different, like if they looked different, if they were sturdy, if they seemed weird and floppy, etc. So if I recall, the one I described in the fic was just like one I’d seen in an actual porno LOL, and so I want to submit that idea forward to say that Armand was trying to find one like the one int he video.

It says this in The Lotus Eater, too:

The man at the register wanted to see Armand’s ID to make sure he was old enough before engaging in conversation. He explained how to affix the implement to the harness, and told Armand how he should “start with something smaller” and tell his “girlfriend” to be “careful” the first few times. But no, no, the size is fine, don’t worry, we’re experienced, it isn’t a problem, thank you, no thank you we don’t need condoms, yes I’m sure.

Cause like does ARMAND KNOW THAT HE ASKS WEIRDO QUESTIONS?? Did that guy think Armand was the weirdest customer he had all week and Armand didn’t even register it? Lol. This is, after all!!!, a story about Armand re-entering human society and learning how to People.

So yeah I like to think he was picky, but he was looking for the one in the video, which is the one I saw in a video LOL and also that like, from my research at the time I don’t think sex shops were like the glittery COCK EMPORIUMS of today, so like some of these decisions like what color it was or how veiny it was might have not really been a huge decision because there might not have been a huge selection. And I think like, in this situation in particular, even though Armand has been trolling Daniel for a while and fucking with him, I think this is one of the big moments for them (in the Usherverse anyway lol) when he starts like being a little more serious about his feelings and seeing Daniel in a new way, and curious about how this will feel for himself as well, so I don’t think it was appropriate to go with like a monster dong or ones with bumps or anything wild like that, I think he went simple. They got into all the other weird ones later! :D

Here's some photos from the early 80s I found that helped me make all these decisions and sculpt my mental images, for your Devil's Minion needs!

Also these links have some really cool photos of SEEDY RAUNCHY 80S NYC that I think about constantly and tbh maybe I've exposed a plot hole that HOW DID ARMAND HANGOUT IN NEW YORK AT ALL WITHOUT SEEING THIS BECAUSE THEY WERE EVERYWHERE but we'll pretend he was so hyperfocused on Daniel & his own lil hobbies that he had tunnel vision lol don't @ me

#!!!!! :D #stuff i wrote #the usher #armand/daniel

25 notes · View notes

thedisablednaturalist · 7 months

Text

People should get reimbursed for commute time

If it takes someone over an hour to get tk work, that should be part of their pay.

Many people have to commute long distances/through areas of slow traffic because they cannot afford to live closer to their workplace. This is also why work from home is a big thing.

If corporations want people to return to their offices, they need to make it appealing enough. I'm not going to fight through traffic for 2 hrs in my free time just to sit at a computer all day, when I could just stay home and don't waste that time.

Corporations would be forced to invest in local affordable housing, perhaps even affording housing credits. They would need to invest in local infrastructure (which in the US is falling to pieces) and improve public transport in their area (faster commute -> less cost to the company, less cars on road -> traffic moves faster, employees without cars would still be able to get to work). Also people would be less stressed and actually take the time to drive safely because they wouldn't feel the need to rush. It would make companies actually take an interest in how their workers get to work and investing in local communities.

I live sort of near DC. We have a HUGE amount of workers commuting into the city and its surrounding cities. Retail workers also have to commute to these cities and suburbs because they cannot afford to live in those areas. My boyfriend commutes an hour to his part time job at a kennel in a rich town. A lot of people live in the more affordable, lower income, far away areas in the nearby states because housing prices in my area are fucking insane. I knew someone who commuted 2+ hours to work and 2+ hours back. There are people who drive even more than that.

And where do these employees have to live? Food deserts. Crumbling infastructure. No parks, no walkability, no public transport, bare bones everything. Only the cities which only the few can afford have basic infrastructure. And even the people living there have to commute to OTHER even richer areas. There's a ton of places where housing developments have just been shoved and are surrounded by nothing but farms. There's nothing local to do, so everyone goes to the closest town and city. It's also why you see a lot of older towns have abandoned main streets. Why have your business cater to the 100 people who live there when you can be in a city with thousands?

There has been some recent interest in paid commute times. 1 2 especially with corporations trying to get workers to go back to the office. Personally, I love working in my office because having a separate space outside my home helps me keep work and home separate and allows me to focus easier since I'm not in "home mode". I don't have room for an office in my parents house so working from home kinda sucks rn even though it would help a lot since I'm disabled. But it is nice being physically near my coworkers, even if it gets annoying sometimes. Also many jobs involve fieldwork (like mine!) which can't be done remotely anyway!

There would be incentive for corporations to keep their employees close AND provide more remote work options for those living farther away. As well as matching pay to fit rent/housing prices in the area (or vice versa).

Also there needs to be something done about corporations having their entire workforce sourced from another country entirely, working for pennies. But that's an even more complicated situation that I don't have experience in.

#long post #its 6am rant time #its so much more sustainable to have people live and work in the same communities #so many resources are spent on commute #i like my drive because it gives me time to wake up and i like just sitting n focusing for a bit #but my commute is also pretty easy since I am going away from the city towards the lower income areas #on the other direction it is backed up completely most days #we drive a lot during work to bc we visit different restoration sites and we get paid for those driving times!#it all comes down to corporations not giving a shit about their employees lives #pls dont try n dox me there are a ton of areas near DC like mine #so its harder than you'd think #but yea ive seen some crazy fucking traffic and commute times #corporations should invest in their communities instead of acting like fucking parasites #remote work #return to office #commute #labor rights #id love if sustainable city experts n economists chimed in #sustainability #sustainable cities #local economy #community

39 notes · View notes

time4resus-blog · 1 year

Text

Bri’s Dream Job

Chapter 1

For most people work conjures up images of an office building, a kitchen, or a retail space. Most of us aren't gifted the opportunity to do what we really like for a living. For Bri life was a bit different. She hadn't always known what she wanted to do with her life, but she'd been lucky enough to find her dream job a few years ago. She showered and prepared for the day, selecting a front closure lace bra, button up shirt and a short skirt. Her office was in her finished basement, an area that she'd had purpose built for her with all of the items that she'd need. She walked over to a computer and opened the program she wanted. She tinkered with a few variables and once the program was complete, she selected "start." As she sat down on a sofa, she felt dizzy and lightheaded. Her vision began to fray at the edges and darkness crept in. She tried hard to fight the dizziness, but it was getting worse. Her breathing was becoming ragged, and she could feel a weight pressing on her chest, like someone had parked a car where it didn't belong. She struggled for breath, her breasts heaving as she sucked in air. She had enough time to reach her phone and send an emergency alert before she slumped forward onto the floor.

*** Bret and Jason were starting on the first stretch of a 72-hour rotation and were in a drive thru for breakfast when the call came across the radio. "Ambo 23 respond to 1337 Lincolnshire Ave, person in medical distress. Dispatch lost contact with caller." They pulled out of line and hit the lights as they raced around the building. Traffic wasn't exactly light during the morning rush, but the address was only one and a half miles away. Bret dodged traffic as he maneuvered the ambulance downside streets. When they arrived, they found a two-story home standing by itself, no neighbors for quite some distance. They pulled up the long driveway and parked. Jason hopped out and grabbed the bags and piled them on the stretcher. Together they lowered it and jogged up to the door. It wasn't open but the door was unlocked. "EMS, is anyone here?" Jason called out as they walked inside. "Where the hell are they?" Bret radioed back to dispatch. "Ambo 23 to main. Do we have a location on our patient?" "Ambo 23, patient could be in the basement. Garbled speech at the end of the call could have been basement." They left the stretcher at the top of the stairs and took their bags downstairs. When they reached the bottom of the landing they saw her, sprawled face down on the floor. Bret placed his fingers against her neck and checked for a pulse while Jason unpacked the basics. "No pulse, we need to move her now." They rolled her onto her back, her long hair covering her face. Bret checked again for a pulse but couldn't find one. "Starting compressions." His hands found her chest and he placed them between her breasts. "One... Two... Three..." As Bret began CPR Jason swept the hair from her face. Her lips had turned pale, and her eyes were half lidded. He placed a mouth barrier over her lips, tilted her head back, and started rescue breathing. "Come on, come back." "Let's get her on a monitor Jason." Bret said between compressions. His voice shuddered as he continued pumping for her failed heart. Jason pulled a set of electrodes out of a pouch and attached leads to them. When Bret paused, he ripped her shirt. Buttons flew as the fabric parted. The lace bra and supple breasts caught both men's attention. Jason barely paused as he placed the leads. Bret placed his hands back on her chest. He had to part her breasts to get his hands back into position. Her chest bowed as he used his strength to replace the beating of her heart. He looked at her desk and saw her name plaque. "Come on Bri, breathe for me! Come back!!"

#resus #cpr

74 notes · View notes

certifiedlovergirlsstuff · 2 years

Text

a new chapter

summary: a new year has arrived in Hawkins, Indiana. I shall show you different months and interactions that our Byers sibling will be having. we will watch as she goes through the ups and downs of dealing with this new trauma. will she eventually come to terms and slowly start to recover and process everything?

WC: 4.1K

warnings: depression, ED mention

A/N: ALL THE STORIES CAN BE FOUND UNDER THE TAG- The Byers Harrington Story-

this is where i’m gonna be a bit worried about my writing because it’s fully just my imagination working at whatever speed it can. i’m not sure how many of these in betweens i’m gonna do, i want to try and do a couple for each month. i already have the last in between planned and after that one it will lead into season2. i hope everyone enjoys these little stories.

previous chapter next chapter

January 5, 1984

“Mom, do you think you can get me a job here?” you asked while picking a lollipop from the display rack.

Joyce was organizing items behind the counter, and you were sitting on the checkout counter at Mendel’s. You were a bit bored at home so you felt like following Joyce for the next few hours of work.

It’s only been about three months since you quit, sorry, since you were fired from Lenny’s pizza. It was nice to have a break from working, focus on school, and you can freely be depressed in your room. Your sleeping was still not great, even with the weed you would buy from Eddie, but it didn’t help all the time. You were also on a tolerance break right now so you didn’t get too used to the drug and its effects. Plus, you didn’t want Joyce to find out, she was starting to get suspicious of your behavior, “Honey, did you get sprayed by a skunk?”

Anyway, you’ve enjoyed not working and all that, but you need to sum up all the money you can get your grubby hands on. You aren’t a big spender anyway, but still, you want to save up money for the future. Five months of paychecks, two a month, $3.75 an hour, it’s not a lot in the long run. You would look in the paper and check if anyone was hiring, see if something caught your eye. You may be a little desperate for a job, but you still have standards. You didn’t want to work in food again, you’re kinda worried about Carol or Tommy H showing up wherever you're working and making a scene. You thought retail would be the next best thing, always good to have different job variations.

“I don’t know honey, business isn’t exactly busy,” Joyce huffed from the ground where she was sitting.

“I know, but I’m just asking for a part-time job. Maybe I’ll get a second job when summer comes around,” you looked around the empty general store while the two of you were having this conversation.

Joyce stood from her seat behind the counter and looked over your hunched figure on the counter. You were sucking on the lollipop and just staring out the glass windows and looking out to the empty main street. You looked to the different stores that might be hiring. Sally’s Sugars and Sweets Bakery, Johnson’s Formal Attire, Hawkin’s Post, etc.

None of them caught your interest as you scanned the store signs. You sighed, maybe you could see if the library needs attendants, maybe City Hall could use interns or something. Maybe you could be a newspaper girl, Jonathan does that on the weekends.

“Honey, why don’t you just use this time to focus on yourself? You look like you could use it.”

“What does that mean?” you replied a bit timidly.

“Well I- I’m just saying you should spend time with your friends. You know, Steve sometimes calls for you.”

That got your head perked up. You already knew this information, but something in Joyce’s voice got your interest. The way she said Steve’s name and how he calls for you, no one else, just you in the Byers’ household, she was playing coy. Also, you could tell she was warming up to Steve and his new presence around the house and with you, Will also didn’t seem to mind, Jonathan though… “I know, it’s just sometimes I end up third wheeling him and Nancy, also Jonathan doesn’t like Steve, so I try to keep them separated from each other.”

“I know honey. What about that girl from school? Jonathan tells me that you’re together during lunch and after school sometimes.”

Robin. The two of you have been getting a little closer after your first study session. At first, you still tried to keep your distance a little, worried if you get attached to her, she’ll be dragged into this terrible predicament. But then her bright smiles and chipper attitude started to crack at the brick wall you placed around your heart, and each day the two of you hung out, a new crack would form in the wall. Eventually, you just gave up the cold facade and welcomed her in openly, but still trying to refrain from mentioning anything to do with the Upside Down and all that stuff.

“I’m- I’m just nervous. What if she’s just a school friend?” “School friend? What?” “You know, someone you hang out with only at school. It’s a line you don’t want to cross ‘cause some people are completely different outside of school, like a whole new personality.”

Joyce was looking at you like you were a bit crazy with this whole “school friends” explanation.

Her brows were furrowed with the crease in the middle, her head cocked to the side and her lips were puckered. She was leaning a hip against the counter while her hands rested in the pockets of her work shirt.

Her hair was longer now, her bangs more grown out and the ends of her hair now touched her shoulders. She looked healthier, a bit happier after just these past few months. That twinkle in her eyes was back, it may still be a bit dulled, but it was shining again. That’s all that mattered.

You on the other hand. Your hair was disheveled most days or just thrown into a pony or low bun to tame the rat's nest. Your clothes were rumpled and mismatched, but not in your usual way, more in a ‘throwing on the first piece of clothing that you grabbed off the floor because you couldn’t bother putting in effort’ way. Your skin was growing ghostly white from not going outside unless needed, like school, or walking into the woods so you could smoke freely. The bags under your eyes were growing and the dark circles were starting to look like someone punched your eyes in a fight. You’ve probably lost some weight, your appetite comes and goes, sometimes you could eat three meals a day, or sometimes you would just eat breakfast and just chug water the rest of the day.

Joyce removed a hand from a pocket and gently tucked loose strands of hair behind your ear. Anytime she did the action you felt like a child like you were pulled back in time. It felt like she was protecting you from the outside world, wanting to keep you safe and wrapped tightly in bubble wrap. Like she wasn’t witnessing her daughter slowly destroy her body and mind because of something horrific that no one should ever experience. Like you weren’t staring into the eyes of the woman who birthed and raised you with such hollow emotions tucked behind your corneas.

No, the simple motion of the hair being tucked behind your ear brought dreams and childhood innocents.

“Honey, I just want to make sure that you’re okay. I don’t want to push you to do something that you don’t feel comfortable with, but I just want to see you happy. That’s all a mother could ask of her children after all.”

You felt yourself getting choked up, “I know mom,” you whispered.

The both of you are just gazing at each other with tears growing, but not yet falling over. It felt like a switch of who was taking care of who, when Will was missing it was you and Jonathan worried over Joyce and watching as she was slipping. But now you were slowly losing a hold on yourself and Joyce was trying to show that she was here for you. You know Jonathan and Will would also be there for you, but you tried to keep this side of yourself hidden from them, you don’t want them to worry about you.

“You know, you’re the best mom anyone could ask for,” you sniffled.

Joyce gave a slight chuckle at that, “coming from you, that’s the best compliment I could ever hear.”

The both of you just shared in choked giggles until the bell from above the door signaled a customer. You hopped off the counter and stared over the top of the small aisles to try and see who entered the store. With a quick look outside the windows, you were able to see the beige Hawkins Police truck before you saw the mystery person.

“Hi Hopper,” Joyce exclaimed.

You turned in the direction that Joyce was looking and saw as Hopper walked closer to the counter the both of you have been at for the past hour and a half. He held his hat in his hands and gave both of you a welcoming smile, “Hello Byers.”

“Everything good at the station Hopper?” you asked, making polite conversation.

“You know Hawkins, pretty quiet.”

“Right.”

You all knew that wasn’t true, but at least you weren’t the only one choosing to be a little delusional about everything.

Hopper hit your arm with his hat in a playful gesture and grinned at you, “actually I have something that you might like back.”

Your eyes widened and you stood a bit taller. You completely forgot about the rifle. Nancy took Lonnie’s revolver for herself and you had other stuff clouding your mind that you just forgot the rifle you took from the shed. Not like you planned on going hunting or whatever, but at least with the rifle back home you knew there was some protection for the four of you.

“I checked your house to see if anyone was home to take it, but all of you are out.”

“Well, I was planning to head home soon, if you give me a ride I’ll take it.”

Hopper looked from you to Joyce behind you and gave her a ‘is that okay?’ look. You turned to see what her response would be, well you already knew, “yeah, that’s fine. I don’t want her riding out too late anyway.”

Hopper nodded his head. You looked between the two adults and noticed the looks they shared, mostly Hopper’s gaze. It peeked a bit of curiosity inside of you, but you weren’t one to meddle in other people’s business.

“How’s Will doing?” Hopper spoke after a cough.

“Um, he’s- he’s okay. He seems like he’s getting back to his normal self,” Joyce supplied.

You wanted to interject and say something, like how sometimes you could hear Will’s cries through the walls late at night when you couldn’t sleep and no one else should be awake. Or how sometimes the two of you run into each other in the kitchen and the both of you would just eat cereal at the table together. Sometimes when you couldn’t sleep you would go outside in the backyard and lay down on the grass and just stare at the stars, and sometimes Will would end up joining you. You two had each other in the dead of night when everyone else had peaceful dreams, the two of you had nightmares that sunk into your skin making it hard to fall back asleep.

“(Y/n), honey, are you ready to leave?”

You blinked a few times and realized you zoned off for a moment as Joyce and Hopper continued their conversation. You turned to Joyce and her expression was blinking like a sign showing that she was worried about you. You then make a glance at Hopper and he looked just as concerned.

“Yeah, sorry. I’ll see you later mom.”

“See ya, honey.”

…

You and Hopper drove in silence for a while. Neither of you not knowing what type of topic of conversation the other would be interested in. The radio was playing some AC/DC song, something as background noise. Hopper had the windows done just a crack allowing for the cool late winter air into the truck, it felt refreshing.

You noticed the way that Hopper was tapping his fingers against the wheel, either in rhythm with the song or just a mindless motion, you didn’t know. He was rubbing his free hand across his facial hair and then went back to rest it against the windowsill. While you sat in your seat you were twiddling with your fingers in your lap and looking out the window, watching as the trees and buildings whizzed past the moving vehicle.

“Hey, um…I know I probably sound like a broken record, but, are you okay? You’ve just seemed a bit out of it lately.”

You look away from the moving scenery and over to Hopper. He took a glance your way when you didn’t say anything right away and you noted the way his brows furrowed just a little in the middle and the concern pooling in his warm eyes. You were debating in your head if you should tell the truth. When people have been asking if you’re okay, you mostly just say “I’m fine” and they would just accept the answer. But you weren’t fine, and you did want to talk to someone about it, but you didn’t want to add any extra concern to anyone, and it’s not like you can go to a therapist.

You let out a sigh and looked to Hopper’s side profile, “if I tell you, can you not tell my mom?”

You noticed the way Hopper’s mouth opened a bit like he was gonna say something before the thoughts formed, “ah…Why- why would you not want me to tell your mom?”

“Well, she’s already worried about Will, and she does notice that I’m a little different now, but I don’t want her to know the extent of it.”

It was silent, you allowed Hopper to think about what you said. You want to talk about this stuff with someone you trust, someone who won’t judge you. You know your family wouldn’t judge you for anything, you and Steve were still getting used to your new friendship, you and Nancy were friendly but…eh, and it’s not like you could dump this stuff on the kids. Hopper was the only adult other than Joyce that you trusted.

When the truck pulled up to the house and Hopper shut the engine off, you turned to him. He was rubbing his facial hair again and then turned his attention to your waiting gaze.

“Let’s talk in the house.”

You felt a tiny smile on your lips.

The both of you slammed the doors close and Hopper grabbed the rifle from his trunk. With your keys, you unlocked the door and walked to the kitchen. You started to pull out stuff to make a sandwich and grabbed a coke from the fridge.

“You want anything to eat, I could make a sandwich or something?”

You called out to Hopper who was still in the living room. You didn’t hear a verbal response so you looked up and saw as he walked into the kitchen and just sat at the little table.

“I’m fine, (Y/n).”

You just nodded and when you finished making your sandwich you put everything back and sat in the seat across from Hopper. The air was slowly building in tension, the tension mostly coming from you because you were suddenly deciding if this was a bad idea.

Hopper speaking broke through your loud decision-making thoughts, “what’s going on (Y/n)?”

You kept your head down and just stared at the sandwich you made and tapped your nails on the plate or the table. Running your teeth along your bottom lip you looked at Hopper, he was leaning forward and had his arms on the table with his hands clasped together. His hat was also off, it allowed for you to stare freely at his face.

“Well, I-I…you know how me, Jonathan, and Nancy along with Steve went up against the Demogorgon?”

“I do, also I remember telling you and Jonathan not to do that.”

You just gave a cheeky smile at the comment, “well you can thank Nancy for bringing the idea back.”

“Anyway, so I’ve been having these nightmares, and this was before the attack. I had one the night we went looking for the monster the first time.”

“The first time?” Hopper questioned.

“Yeah, we went into the woods. I know it probably wasn’t the smartest idea, but we’re dumb kids.”

Hopper breathed a laugh at the statement. It made you smile for a moment.

“So these nightmares, how bad are they?” Hopper asked after a few seconds.

“Umm, on a scale of 1-10 I would say that they sit around 10 for 10.”

Hopper gave a solemn nodding at your answer.

You continued to just stare at the sandwich, you don’t even know why you made it, you had no appetite while talking about this. You just huffed a sigh out through your nose.

“Do…Do you want to talk about what happens? In your dre-nightmares.”

You were hesitant, but after a few seconds, you gave a timid nod to Hopper. He didn’t say anything or move closer to you, he let you take your time in formulating your thoughts and kept a good distance so you didn’t feel suffocated.

“It’s kinda always the same format, someone else and I are running away from the monster, and then it would get to them first. It was like it was taunting me, enjoying that I was witnessing it rip this person to shreds and I would just freeze from fear and stare as the life drained from their eyes. And then when it was satisfied it would drop their body onto the floor and stalk towards me as I was shaking and coward against the wall or in a corner. It would lean in close with its flowered face and open allowing for me to stare at the rows of teeth within and then it would get me, but that’s when I wake up. And I’m a cold sweat and shaking when I wake up and I wouldn’t be able to go back to bed. I would be up until my body just collapses from exhaustion.”

The tension in the air you felt earlier dissipated and all you felt now was a form of exhaustion but it wasn’t in the air or from Hopper, it was you. Just talking about them made your body feel like it was running laps without stopping until your legs just gave out. You heard the creaking of the chair and looked at Hopper who now moved to the seat next to you instead of across from you.

“Do you take any sleeping pills to try and sleep?”

‘Weed’ you answered in your head, “yea, they worked for a little, but it still wouldn’t help,” you half lied out loud.

“If you could, well want really, could you tell me who is usually running with you?”

You hesitated a bit in this part. Yeah, it would be fine if you said Joyce or Jonathan, but mentioning Steve or Hopper, to Hopper, you weren’t sure if it would be weird for him. You don’t know how Hopper would feel if you just said ‘hey sometimes I dream that you get eaten by a monster and I can’t do anything but watch’ you don’t want to scare him off, but he asked and you need to talk.

“Sometimes it’s Jonathan, especially how I remember the scene that played out in the house. Where it pinned him down and stood over him, drooling like he was dinner. Other times it’s Joyce, but not often luckily. Um, for this next one could you not mention it to anyone, like at all?”

Hopper looked a bit worried and confused but nodded his head.

“Sometimes- Sometimes the person I’m with is Steve. And as we’re running he’s always protecting me and that’s how he got killed and I can’t even do anything.”

“Harrington? Why- Are you two close or something?”

“It's a- It's a new development you could say,” you muttered.

“Is there anyone else in these scenarios? You seem a bit hesitant.”

You turned your gaze on Hopper and tried to see if this silent answering of just your eyes could answer his question. It seemed he understood, but not exactly, so you cleared your throat and said, “actually the only other person in these scenarios is…its-its you, Hopper. I sometimes watch you get ripped apart before my eyes.”

Hopper looked taken aback by this information you laid out for him. You just told Chief Hopper, a man who you didn’t converse with before this crazy government stuff, that sometimes you watch him get killed. Maybe your subconscious was trying to say something, maybe you were starting to latch onto Hopper because he was the only older male figure in your life at the moment. A.K.A, daddy issues.

“Hey,” Hopper quietly said, he tapped your hand on the table to draw your attention.

You kept your head tilted low so you looked up a bit with your brows raising. You were gnawing on your bottom lip anxiously because you weren’t sure what he was going to say. You weren’t trying to overstep any boundaries, you didn’t want Hopper to stop checking in with your family because of your disturbing nightmares.

“These are just nightmares, dreams. They aren’t real.”

Real, it felt weird, but you had to mention this detail, “Hopper, I know this sounds crazy, but sometimes when I do have dreams they manifest in some way or another. When I first dreamt of being chased by the Demogorgon I pictured it with the flowering head and rows of teeth, I didn’t even know what it looked like, Nancy didn’t even describe it to me. And another dream, Steve was in it and he was giving me a gift, a piece of jewelry, and for Christmas, he said a similar line from the dream and gave me a ring. It’s not like I think I’m psychic or whatever, but with these dreams or nightmares, I get worried that they’ll come true somehow.”

Your body started to lightly tremble and your vision was blurring around the edges, the tears were coming. Distracted by your anxious state you didn’t pay attention to Hopper and his actions. All you felt was the slight shift in the air from his movement, heard the chair move and his feet taking steps. Then you felt his hands on your upper arms moving you into a standing position, and then he pulled you into a hug. It took you by surprise for a moment, but then your arms moved into action and you wrapped them around Hopper’s waist, and just lightly, barely anything, you clenched some of his uniform into your fingers and held on.

One hand moved to the back of your head to keep you pressed against his chest and the other was resting high on your back and was moving between your shoulder blades in a comforting motion. You felt the hard pressure of his chin soon resting on the crown of your head. The tears kept slipping from your closed eyes, but it wasn’t because of your nightmares. No, it was because, for the first time, you felt like you had a father. The only time Lonnie ever touched you was to give you an undeserving beating, whether it was because of a stupid accident or cause he was drunk, he never even gave you even one hug you could remember.

Hopper, a man who mostly kept to himself, a man who somehow became a welcoming presence in your life, and a man who could have just ignored your paranoid and tired behavior. Hopper was someone who was comforting you because he knew you trusted him and just needed someone to listen and just be there for you.

“Hey, it’s gonna be okay.”

He whispered these kind reassurances into your hair and with each one spoken, you lessened in your shaking and your tears were drying. Soon when all you had was tear streaks and a few hiccups escaping from your mouth you loosened in the holding of Hopper’s arms. He moved his hands back to your upper arms and leaned back to look you in the face.

“Thanks, Hopper, I really needed that.”

He gave you a reassuring smile and rubbed his thumbs over your clothed arms, “anytime kid.”

“I’m here for you whenever you need me.”

-------------

taglist: @heartyhope / @preciousbabypeter / @dessmxsworld / @piper3113 / @animiacorn / @burn1ngw00d / @drxwstxrkxy / @m-rae23 / @noisyeggsmoneystatesman / @yournan69 / @thats-s0-ravenn / @ameliabs-world / @mayonesavegana / @gracella0709 / @gengen64 / @alecmores / @choclate32 / @stvrdustalexx

#The Byers Harrington Story #stranger things reader insert #stranger things self inster #reader insert #strangers things byers!reader

213 notes · View notes