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#new clear lawn chairs
analogrevolution · 1 year
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Our first LP release, HURLY BURLY AND THE VOLCANIC FALLOUT - GIANT ROBOT JETPACK \\ THE NEW CLEAR LAWN CHAIRS - VOTED MOST CHILL IN HIGHSCHOOL is out! It's shipping now. This record means so much to me. It's a split. Double A-Side, two covers. The Chairs' side was recorded in 2014 or 2015 (it's hard to say, Jon says "I'm 19 years old" and "Now I'm 20 years old" in the same song, the lyrics to which were written they day he recorded it.) It is a snapshot of the metro atlanta music scene of that era, an ode to the majesty and shame of Swayze's Venue in Kennesaw, GA.
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It was also one of the first releases Analog Revolution put out as a DIY label, way back when. We released it on cassette and CD. Now it is once again available on cassette, and for the first time on LP. Now, In the time since, Jon of the New Clear Lawn Chairs has gone on to join Michael Cera Palin, which is admittedly a very different jam from Voted Most Chill in Highschool, but you may know him better as their bassist.
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The other A-Side is Hurly Burly and the Volcanic Fallout's Giant Robot Jetpack. It features coverart by Will Dover. It was the first album recorded at the Ellijay Makerspace, shortly before we officially opened to the public. It features the co-founder of Analog Revolution, Ryan Stoyer, on bass, and the current AR person at AR, Violet, on vocals and guitar. You may also know Violet from her work in Doctor Deathray. You may not know that Hurly Burly and the Volcanic Fallout played the Analog Revolution kick-off party. ~10 years ago, before we opened our record store, to coincide with the release of the first issue of our Magazine, Hurly Burly and the Volcanic Fallout played a secret set under a bridge in an abandoned go-kart park in an undisclosed location.
Both of these bands have been with us since the beginning (or before!) and I am so thrilled to be able to bring them both to a wider audience via this Beautiful Volcanic/Nuclear splatter LP (produced by Physical Music Productions in Nashville)
You can get the record now on Bandcamp.
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ajroach42 · 1 year
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I suspect Tumblr will still refuse to embed peertube streams, so you'll have to click through if you want to see the video. I hate that, and I'm starting to resent tumblr for it.
This is the Lo-Fi Stream, recorded on a pair of analog tube cameras from 50 years ago and a single shotgun mic placed in the middle of the room. If you want a hifi version, with multi channel audio and HD, color video, it'll exist eventually in this same channel, but those things take much longer to produce.
Analog Revolution presents:
Crosstalk
The "The New Clear Lawn Chairs" Orchestra
and Hurly Burly and the Volcanic Fallout
live in concert at the Gilmer Arts playhouse.
This is the one year Anniversary show for the Ellijay Makerspace and I couldn't think of a better way to celebrate all we accomplished in our first year. Hurly Burly has been with Analog Revolution from the very first day, and The New Clear Lawn Chairs were featured in the second issue of our magazine. This was the first time I can remember seeing Crosstalk live, but frontwoman Helena has been a part of many of the things that led to the creation of the Ellijay Makerspace over the last ten years.
The show is full of surprises and heart and it made me cry. These are bands that have been performing, in one incarnation or another, for a decade or more, at least two of the bands were founded when their members were in high school. That was a long time ago, but it was really wonderful to be able to get them all back together, in the same room, to shout and share and destroy a giant volcano.
Look for a split LP from HBATVF and TNCLC out in March from Analog Revolution.
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saetoru · 8 months
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imagine being fwbs with gojo n in the middle of folding you like a lawn chair he noses at your cheek n goes “hey do u wanna be my girlfriend?”
✩ ‧₊˚ ✩ BEST OF THE BEST — GOJO SATORU.
contents. fwb! satoru, fem! reader, minors do not interact, unprotected sex, mating press, creampie, non canon compliant (suguru and shoko are ur friend group >:( tyvm), very cheesy ending my b, yes i made a reference to this is where you’re weak, right? sue me, petnames (sweetheart, sweet girl, princess, baby)
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“bet you were waitin’ for this all day, huh sweetheart?” satoru always has a way with words—a very unique, special, and irritating way with words that routinely manages to get under your skin.
you would scoff—in fact, you would call him quite a colorful variation of words if his thick cock wasn’t pressing comfortably against your sweet spot.
so instead, you gasp a quiet, “f-fuck—right there.”
“yeah, i know,” he chuckles, “this is where you need me, huh? where you’re weak?”
you can’t do anything but whimper at that, hands wrapped tightly around him as they claw into his shoulder. he always wears the marks you leave like a good sport too—shows up to the gym in a tank top that shows them off good and well, right for suguru to see them clear as day. you almost block satoru right on the spot when he sends you a selfie in the mirror, showing off the angry marks with a wink following.
it’s a bit of a predicament, fucking your high school friend and not letting anyone know. the idea of shoko and suguru finding out that every other night, satoru is in your bed as his cum leaks out of your abused cunt is enough to make you nauseous—but never nauseous enough not to open the door for him.
the most unfortunate fact you’ve learned in your life is that satoru knows how to fuck—in fact, he knows how to fuck you well enough that you let him come back. it’s a bit shameful, really, the way you let him knock on your door, the way you open it and let him in, the way you actually fuck him and let him sleep in your bed until the morning.
and then (because he’s an asshole) he wakes up, gives you a sly wink, and murmurs i’ll be back soon, yeah? keep that bed warm for me, sweetheart.
“c-close, toru—‘m gonna….gonna—”
“gonna what? cum? already? barely even fucked you yet,” he hums, hooking your leg over his shoulder before all but pressing you in half. you mewl at the way his tip brushes past your folds and splits you in half���deeper this time with the new position. “look at that,” he coos, staring down at the way his cock slips in and out of you, “takin’ me so well, sweet girl. i think you can go a bit longer, don’t you?”
“m-more, more—need—”
“i know, i know,” he grins, “need me to fuck you dumb, don’t you? don’t worry, princess. i’ll give you more.”
his hips snap into you, pelvis rocking against yours as his pre cum and your slick mix, making a mess between your bodies as it coats your skin. you gasp, pulling satoru closer as his head falls to tuck into your shoulder, his labored breaths fanning against the shell of your ear.
“‘s good,” you whine, “f-feels good, toru.”
“yeah? feel that? squeezin’ me so tight, i can barely move,” he groans, letting out a sweet, low sound into your ear that has your spine shivering—you think you could come undone from that, from the sounds he makes as your walls flutter around him.
you think everything about satoru is enough to send you over the edge, from the sound of his voice to that pretty face of his when he spills into you.
you know he’s close—you can feel the slight twitch of his cock as his pace gets sloppier, as his thumb finds your clit and rubs desperate circles into the sensitive nerves, as he practically presses your knees to your shoulders and bullies his throbbing cock deep into your dripping cunt. and you’re close too, head spinning as your eyes flutter shut and your lips part with a broken wail.
“c-close—‘gonna cum, toru,” you gasp, voice coming in labored pants as his breath hitches.
you look perfect like this—like you’re his, like your body was made for him to touch in sinful ways, like it was his cock that was always supposed to fit into you and make you fall apart. his hand grabs yours, and without thinking, both of your fingers interlace.
“baby,” he hums, his nose pressing into your cheek as he kisses the skin softly, “‘m gonna make you mine, yeah? wanna be my girlfriend? my sweet girl? you want it, right?”
you should be shocked—you should stop and ask him what he means, what he’s playing at, what he thinks he’s doing toying with your mind.
instead, you gasp, pulling him closer as your walls spasm around him, back arching and eyes rolling back as the coil in your belly snaps and you cum. hard. harder than he’s ever made you before. does the idea of being his really do that to you? does the idea of being his sweet, precious girl outside of your bed at night really send you hurdling over the edge like that?
evidently, it does—and your high sends him right into his own. like he needs you to fall apart so he can too, like the way he knows you feel good makes him feel good too. maybe he does want you, maybe it’s not a sick joke. the way his voice cracks with a strained call of your name certainly says as much—the way his hand tightens its grip on yours, the way his hips rut desperately as he presses impossibly closer, the way he presses hot, scattered kisses along your cheek and jaw as he groans through his release.
it’s messy. it’s filthy. it’s downright dirty the way satoru fucks his cum into you, letting it drip down your thighs and mark your skin—but it feels like being his.
you think you might want that.
he’s gentle when he finishes—carefully unhooks your legs from his shoulders before running a hand along your thigh and squeezing as he observes the cum dripping between your legs. you huff when he collapses over you, glaring at him as his weight presses onto your form.
“you’re heavy,” you grunt, smacking at his shoulder.
he hums, nose pressing to your jaw as he kisses it. “not moving till you answer me.”
“satoru, don’t joke about—”
“how rude,” he gasps, “you think i would joke while i’m balls deep in—”
“oh my god,” you groan, covering your face with your hands, “please stop talking.”
he grins, chuckling as he shuffles up to bury his face into your neck, pressing a gentle kiss to the skin. “you don’t wanna be my girlfriend? that’s gonna hurt my feelings, y’know.”
satoru has always been like that, wearing an easy grin and plastering that playfulness on like a second skin. you can hear it though—the slight unease in his voice. you can’t fathom letting everyone know that sometimes, you let satoru fuck you…but maybe knowing that sometimes, you hold hands, and maybe kiss, and perhaps snuggle on the couch, and potentially even share a bed to sleep, not just fuck, but sleep—maybe they can know that. 
that doesn’t sound so bad. 
“that depends,” you hum, pretending to think, “how good at being a boyfriend are you?”
“excellent,” he plays along, “best of the best.”
“that’s just big talk. you could be lying for all i know,” you point out—but your fingers slip into his hair, twirling the sweaty strands along your fingers. 
“well, you’ll just have to let me prove i’m a good boyfriend—so that means i have to be your boyfriend. sorry, it’s the only way.”
if satoru hears the giggle you try to hide as you sigh exaggeratedly, he doesn’t mention it, lips pulling into a giddy smile as he pulls his head out of your neck and presses his forehead to yours. your hands cup his cheeks, squeezing gently.
“i guess if this is the only way,” you shake your head theatrically, “you can be my boyfriend. for now.”
“i’m grateful,” he snorts—and then there’s a peck to your lips. one, two, three gentle kisses before he presses a lingering one. it’s sweet, and slow, and just a bit needy as he presses deeper into you. “now i can tell suguru the scratches on my back are yours. he’s been asking a lot.”
leave it to satoru to speak and ruin the moment just by opening his mouth.
“satoru,” you hiss, throwing him a sharp look, “i think you’d be a better boyfriend when your mouth is shut.”
“then i can’t kiss you,” he gasps, “that’s the best part of being my girlfriend.”
and just to prove it, he kisses you again—and maybe, although you hate to admit it, he’s right. it is the best part. 
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i wanna be his girlfriend :(
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erwinsvow · 3 months
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“rafe, i want a soda,” you tell your boyfriend from your comfortable seat, settled under your blanket waiting for the movie to start. rafe’s talking to kelce and topper about something quietly, adjusting his backwards cap and staring straight ahead—at people you recognize as the pogues he’s been terrorizing as of late. you rise from your position, tapping his shoulder to get his attention. kelce and topper stop talking, getting into their chairs when rafe turns to talk to you.
“yes, princess? what now?” 
you should be good—rafe always tell you to keep your nose out of his business stuff, especially when he’s making his rounds at a party trying to sell coke. you usually always comply anyways, not asking questions since the first time and not caring either, as long he swears he’s safe and not doing as much of the stuff as he used to—but this isn’t about his business. you can tell there’s something going on with those pogues and he’s planning something that you want to make him stop.
“movie’s starting. and i want a soda.” 
“kelce, give her your soda,” rafe says, turning back around to finish his conversation, when you interrupt. you shake your head at kelce, who holds the pepsi can in his hand, stopping right as he was about to toss it to you.
“it’s not diet, rafe,” you comment with a sweet smile, hoping you can distract him from whatever he’s trying to talk about with his boys.
“really kid? i think you’ll be fine-”
“please, rafe?” you interrupt again, pouting. he shouldn’t have given up so easily—but your pout is one of those things he can’t resist. 
“pain in my ass, kid, really.” you smile at rafe, thanking him while he grumbles. “you better sit tight and watch this stupid movie after this-”
“popcorn too! do you guys want anything?” you turn, asking kelce and topper.
“all good, thanks princess.” you crinkle your nose and turn back, not really liking it when anyone but rafe addresses you like that—it feels like a joke when they say it.
rafe comes back with your stuff, handing it to you with a roll of his eyes, but you notice he’s smiling when you thank him. you curl up next to him on the same chair, head on his chest trying to watch the movie. you notice he’ll turn to look at kelce and topper, and then the pogues sitting ahead of you. 
each time he starts looking, you try to distract him, bringing your straw or a piece of popcorn up to his mouth, and then he looks down at you instead, with a sweet smile and a kiss to the top of your head. 
you should have guessed it would only work for so long—the two pogue boys get up and the three boys with you rise instantly too. in a desperate attempt to keep him with you, you drop the soda onto the grass and call to your boyfriend before he gets too far.
“rafe, uhm, this spilled so i need a new one-”
“one minute, princess, i’ll be right back-”
“no, rafe, wait-” but he’s gone before you can say or do anything else.
you sit in the lawn chair, too distracted to focus on the movie, worried about what rafe is gonna do to them. it’s only a few minutes later that you hear screaming, and look up to see the entire projector screen aflame. you get up immediately, panicking at the horde of people trying to get away, when you take a step backwards and bump into something hard. you yelp, but familiar hands hold you hard and guide you out back to the parking lot, hands that can only belong to your boyfriend.
you don’t get a clear look at rafe until he parks at tannyhill—a pink and red lesion on his cheek that wasn’t there before. 
“rafe, your face-”
“kid, why d’you think i’m trying to take care of business with these pogues? huh?” you’re silent, not able to compose any kind of answer that would make sense. 
“i-i don’t-”
“exactly. you don’t know. these, these pogues? they’re fuckin’ crazy. they held a gun to top’s head. they set that fire, not carin’ who would get hurt.” he watches you stare at him with big eyes and parted lips, taking in everything he’s saying. he knows it’s a little manipulative, not giving you any context or telling you he caved in pope’s face with a nine-iron. you’re listening, and paying attention, finally. “let you get away with a lot of stuff, kid. don’t make me regret it.” 
like he doesn’t know why you make him go buy soda or try to distract him with a kiss at the beach or at the club. he brushes it aside because he likes to let you think you’re getting away with it.
“have you learned your lesson about interferin’?” you nod eagerly. “good girl. now c’mon.” he takes you upstairs to his bedroom and lets you apologize down on your knees.
“good fuckin’ girl-” is what comes out of rafe’s mouth when you settle infront of him, on your knees, hands unbuckling his belt. he repeats it, but it comes out as a grunt when you take him into your mouth, big, watery eyes staring up at him while you impale your throat with his thick cock. he wipes the tears away with his free hand, the other one gripping your hair while he slides your mouth up and down with his motions.
“that’s right, nothin’ to say now, huh? good girl, don’t worry, i’ll forgive you. you gonna meddle again? hm?” he pulls you off, your mouth letting go with a little pop sound. 
“no, no, never again-”
“good girl,” and he brings your mouth right back.
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redcoralpot · 7 months
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U Malatu - Mike Schmidt x M! Reader
Summary: Mike gets a call back on the ad he had sent out for a new babysitter for Abby. While they were interested in the job, Mike was more than interested in them.
Warnings: NSFW content (masturbation), and mentions of murder.
Word Count: 1.55K
Notes: Consider this a gift for the gay Mike simps!!
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Mike had expected nothing of it, really. He had paid a newspaper company a few dollars to display ads for a babysitter in their daily papers; a last ditch attempt before starting his new job at a local pizzeria. He was working the night shifts, and with his office being in the middle of a highly dangerous, abandoned building, he hesitated in bringing his little sister along. Abby was only ten years old– who knows what she would get into?
So, when his phone rang with a call from an unknown number, Mike immediately answered, “Hello?”
Radio silence from the other end. His mother always had warned him about spam. 
His finger hovered over a red button, ready to end the call, when a noise froze any movement, “Um… are you Mike Schmidt?”
“Yeah, this is him.”
The caller cleared their throat, “Okay, so, I’m calling about a babysitting ad I saw at a local diner; I’m interested. Is it possible for us to meet there to discuss details?”
“Woah, hold on. What’s your name?” Mike questioned, folding his jacket over a chair.
“Don’t worry about it, I’ll meet you outside of Sparky’s at four o’clock. I’m looking forward to it!”
“Wait–” That was the only thing he could respond with before the line cut out, and his home screen went back to normal.
Suspicious. Maybe he should have gone a different route than dropping the opportunity of watching over a vulnerable child into just anyone’s hands, but it was too late to turn back now. Sparky’s was a public place, at least, so this person would not be able to hurt Mike without getting caught. If he got any weird feelings from them, he’d immediately call it off and go home. 
Mike glanced at the oven clock, ticking away at time like it was nothing. Currently, it was only three, and the drive to the popular diner was only fifteen minutes away. Well, shit. He was too desperate to pass this up, not with the court constantly watching his back. Mike groaned, rubbing the bridge of his nose, dreading his first shift already.
He ended up needing that extra time to get Abby comfortable enough for him to leave, and oh, how stubborn she was. Mike had to carry her over his shoulder just to get her into her bedroom, where she had plenty of sensory toys and items to occupy herself with. Additionally, Mike had put extra care into making sure she had the opposite too, such as noise canceling headphones in case the neighbor decided to mow his lawn again. The last time he saw her, she was huddled up on her desk again, using crayons to draw scribbly pictures of her imaginary friends. Yeah, imaginary. They weren’t real, as much as Abby claimed they were.
By the time he had gotten in the car, started it, and driven to Sparky’s, he was five minutes late. Yet, from his windshield, he could see a man in a quirky uniform sitting outside the main doors. Mike couldn’t see the details of the stranger– he needed to get his eyes checked– but he witnessed them flinch at the sound of his car door slamming. As he approached, the man jumped up with a sparkle in their eye, and held out a hand.
“Mike Schmidt?”
He didn’t shake it, causing the hand to fall awkwardly to your side, “Yeah.”
“Uh, anyways, I saw your ad. The diner hands out a paper full of ads with their menus, you see, and yours caught my eye.”
“You mentioned that.”
The man had a lopsided grin on his face, and you chuckled; the sound sent a spark up Mike’s spine, “Yes, yes I did. I make decent money, but I’m also looking for a bit of a side job too. Babysitting was on the top of my list, ‘cause I love kids.”
“Do you have any actual experience with it?”
“I was a babysitter for my first job in highschool,” he rambled, “my favorite kid was a little boy from a local daycare. His mom said he got diagnosed with autism and she needed extra help taking care of him during the evenings. He was a delight!”
“Why did you stop?”
“Ah, it’s a shame. Fritz, the little guy, was one of the kids that went missing at a pizzeria a while back. His mom was never the same after that, and I felt guilty that I wasn’t there.” You shuffled closer to the doors, shoulders tense.
“A pizzeria?”
You shrugged, “It got shut down soon after that. I guess when a couple of kids disappear into thin air in a restaurant, parents aren’t keen on bringing their children there anymore.”
Mike opened his mouth, ready to ask another question, but you stopped him, “Listen, I gotta go, this was my break. You have my number, right?”
He nodded, and you replied with your pinky and thumb sticking out of a fist, held to your ear. Mike watched as you disappeared into the diner, curiosity and another, more unknown feeling creeping up his chest. He remembered it so well, looking back on it.
-
Nowadays, Abby loves you. Mike could lean on the doorway, and a smile would tug on the corners of his lips as he watched you make shapes with your hands. A light was set in her room specifically for this purpose, as the shadows cast would mimic whole storylines. His little sister would view it in glee; the tales always accompanied by voice acting, your doing. Mike even started, in the back of his mind, to prefer the idea of spending the night like that instead of in front of a collection of security cameras. He observed your hands, how your body moved, your face, and more embarrassingly, your lips.
Mike studied how gentle and sickeningly sweet your voice was when you praised Abby, but also the stern expression that played in your eyes when she misbehaved. You would glance up at him sometimes, the manner still stained, and a heady feeling would slam into his brain. The experience always only lasted a few seconds, when his little sister would grumble again, and you were pulled back towards her. Frankly, there were times when Mike wished you would continue, though he’d never admit it. He pushed it down with everything else.
Alas, that can only work for so long– a man has needs. Those needs surface at the worst possible time, and for Mike, that was on his endless night shift at the pizzeria. He cursed under his breath, feeling his dick straining against his jeans. The feeling of your hand manhandling him out of his own front door was imprinted on his shoulder, even if his uniform vest covered it. Just thinking about it sent a shiver down his spine, and he closed his eyes as his eyebrows scrunched together.
“F-fuck.” He whispered. 
His seat shook as Mike shifted in it, fidgeting, unable to focus on the bright screens on his desk. The more he tried ignoring it, the more depraved thoughts infected his head. A finger trailed up the seam of his pants, his breath hitching, where it finally landed on the button holding it all together. Mike bit his lip and unbuttoned it, a whine escaping him as he palmed himself. 
He imagined it was you that was doing it, your strong palm cupping his crotch as easily as you did a mug at home. He snaked fingers into his boxers, sliding himself out of the top, and rested his forehead against the wood under the cameras. His dick twitched at the movement, and he brushed against the tip. Mike huffed as he slid his hand down, and then up, repeating; spreading precum as it came out. What else could you do with that strength?
Could you manhandle him on his hands and knees? You could, he knew, and you would trail your hands down his body. So very gentle, so very kind, for what you were about to do. You could hold his hips still to prevent him from thrusting up into your hand, as he whimpered in complaint. Sweat dripped down his forehead as he felt the stickiness grow in his hand; you could call him the most pathetic things and he wouldn’t be able to do anything about it. A pet, a slut, a little whore.
Mike let out a quiet moan, “Please…”
He’d face away from you as you thrust your own against his cock, not even earning the privilege to look at you. You would treat him as only a toy to use, whenever, and however you wanted. His ass would be red from how hard your skin slapped against his; the sting only sending down zaps of pleasure. You wouldn’t even bother taking off your own clothes, only his. 
“That’s it, that’s a good boy,” you’d grunt.
That same heady feeling slammed into Mike again, but this time was different– this time it was accompanied by a white flash in front of his eyes. His body seized upwards, drool smearing against the desktop. The guard felt warmth drip down his palm, onto his pants and the floor. For the first time in what felt like forever, he let out a deep, shaky breath. 
The stain was going to be hard to explain.
-
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toji-girl · 3 months
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creepy neighbor | t. fushiguro
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tags: repost + fem reader + male masturbation + he talks to himself and through an orgasm also while calling himself daddy + slight mommy kink I don't know + he wants to knock you up + want to make a part 2 + take this lmaooo
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Toji knows it's wrong to be pressed against his window, his breath fogging up the glass as he watched you prance around your backyard in nothing but short shorts and a shirt that made him ache for you.
Your husband just left to go to work and that's where he'd be for the rest of the day leaving you home alone to care for the house and everything else that needs your attention.
While his green eyes followed your form he took note of the storm that was rolling in and wondered if for a brief moment if he could talk to you about that, anything to hear you say his voice with a giggle.
Sure, he's been to your house a few times, especially over the summer when your shrimp dick of a husband would invite everyone and try his best to BBQ. It was clear as day that you weren't happy, the soft smile that tugged your lips back never reached your dull eyes.
His eyes stayed trained on the curve of your ass each time you bent down, the seam of your shorts pressed against your pussy giving him a view that made his cock throb with want and pure frustration from seeing you fully but maybe the soft pink of your panties.
Sometimes you'd even come out fully naked with the only thing keeping everyone from getting the full look was a bathing suit cover-up, but that still didn't stop your pervert neighbor from jerking off right there and then as you tended to your flowers.
Thoughts of him following after only for you to end up spread out on the picnic table or face down in the dirt with your ass in the air just for him made his sack tighten with the upcoming orgasm, his eyes rolled a little when he tightened his hold each time he reached the tip.
"Daddy is about to cum, open that sweet mouth and beg me for it," He panted to himself wishing you were kneeling in front of him with your tongue hanging out so prettily waiting his gift, just for you.
It was almost as if your mouth was greedily accepting his cock and it made Toji wonder how you liked it. Rough and fast? Sweet and sensual? Or perhaps it was both which is something he could do.
Want him to play with your pussy until your creaming on his fingers or face? He'd do it. Want him to fold you in half and fuck you dumb on a lawn chair? No doubt he would. But something tells him that you wouldn't stray from your husband no matter what happens.
There is a breaking point for everyone and Toji wonders what yours will be, how long can you stay in an unhappy marriage before you're out looking for something new to satisfy your desires? You continued to parade around the yard still half dressed, your tits bouncing with each step.
That was enough to give him the push he needed. "F-fuck, want to see you all round and plump with my baby," his voice came out rough and gravely as he shut his eyes thinking about how you'd look.
It was all nothing but a fantasy that he would never indulge in, breaking up a marriage isn't something he's really interested in but if you'd come crawling over to him maybe he would change his mind.
Hot thick cum splattered on his abs and hand when he reached the top of his high grunting out your name and small pants of mommy followed after. Oh, how he wished you'd lick up his mess for him.
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princessbrunette · 4 months
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jj coming home from work or hanging out with the pogues to see you in the backyard laying on a tanning chair with your tinyyyyyyyy pink string bikini and he just can’t control himself he’s just a man 🤷‍♀️
-🪞
thinking about this but it’s with bsf!jj who you’ve done sexual stuff with maybe one or twice? but you never spoke about it afterwards and he kinda doesn’t know what the two of you are and if you’re ever gonna let him do it again ?? so he’s constantly just on edge w loads of sexual tension and mm !!
⋆˙⟡🥥♡🤍౨ৎ🍥˚˖𓍢ִִ໋
it’s late afternoon when he’s arriving back at the chateau to stay. john b was driving off somewhere following a lead, and pope and kie had gone home for the day so it was just going to be jj. jj and you.
he walks right past you at first, swinging his set of keys round his finger and humming, well — rapping to himself. ice ice baby, you seem to recall? you were in a doze, laying on your front on the lawn on a towel, brain barely picking up on his presence. he’s whistling the chorus as he strolls towards the shack, before noticing you, and doing a full 180 to walk back towards you, the whistling drawing closer.
“w—hey there, pretty lady.” he calls out, pulling his shorts up boyishly as you lift your head, a little sleepy from the amount of time laying out in the sun.
“hi, jayj.” you hum, pushing up onto all fours so you could stretch your back, arching it and letting out a sigh through your nose as you come back to reality. he blinks rapidly like he’s trying to take screenshots of his eyes, gazing over your soft form in your ever so tiny pink bikini.
“what’cha doing out here all alone?” he digs his boot into the grass, differentiating between eyeing you up and looking at the ground like he just couldn’t handle it.
“was just soaking up the sun but i think it’s going behind a cloud now. what time’sit anyway?” your voice is all soft and sleepy and it makes it hard for the blonde to focus, blinking at you a few times before hes realised you’d asked him a question and he jumps into action, pulling up his wrist to theatrically look at his clock.
“it is… just comin’ up on 5– i’m sorry just to… circle back real quick,” he scrunches his nose, drawing a quick circle in the air with his finger pointed up. “i have not seen that bikini before is it — is it new or?” he rests his arm casually against a rogue tree branch standing at the height of his ribs, nearly missing it entirely at first, fingers rubbing below his nose, antsy.
you look down at yourself, taking it upon yourself to adjust the pretty pink triangles on your chest, jostling your tits as you do so, making sure they’re fitted perfectly over you. the act in itself seemed genuinely innocent from your part, but jj’s eyebrows jumped up as he shifted desperately on his feet, clearing his throat — it’s as if his sudden movement were to direct his blood flow to literally anywhere else, diverting it from where it was inevitably headed.
“yeah! it was on sale. d’you like it?” you’re looking up at him with those cutesy doe eyes from where you knelt on your towel and it was taking him everything to control himself. why did he have to be such a guy?
“uh, do i have a working set of eyes? yeah… i love it… takin’ like… mental polaroids here.” he trails off before he says something crazy, swaying on his feet, indulging himself to take another look at the way the two piece clings to your body. you climb to your feet happily, taking your time to pick up your belongings that laid out beside you, your sunglasses, water bottle and phone. once you’d gathered them into your arms, you walk up to jj casually, already smiling.
“so do you wanna help me out of the bikini? or…” your grin grows when you see his jaw drop right there infront of you, holding his gaze for a moment as you walk past him, heading towards the chateau leaving him frozen for a few seconds.
“wh— uh, yes— yes ma’am.” he nods, turning and jogging after you.
⋆˙⟡🥥♡🤍౨ৎ🍥˚˖𓍢ִִ໋
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cameronspecial · 3 months
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Let Me Think About It, Angel
Pairing: Frat!Rafe Cameron x Reader
Warnings: N/A
Pronouns: She/Her
Word Count: 0.4K
Summary: Y/N is a realist and realizes not everything can last forever, asking Rafe a question helps give her some reassurance.
A/N: Inspired by this post.
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Thinking about the future is something Y/N often does. When she is as in love with Rafe as she is, it is kinda a no-brainer. Although she can definitely see herself marrying the man in front of her, there is a side of her that can be pessimistic. It tells her she may get her beautiful wedding, but it doesn’t mean their story gets a happy ending. After all, a wedding isn’t the end of a book, it’s just the start of a new chapter. “If we were to get a divorce, what are three things you would bring with you?” Y/N randomly asks, looking up from her phone to Rafe, who is working on his car. He wipes his hands on the oil-ridden rag and approaches his girlfriend on the lawn chair, “What are you talking about, Angel? We aren’t married yet.” She shrugs. “It’s a hypothetical, Rafe. Pretend that we are, what would you take?” she urges. Rafe sighs, throwing his rag on the grass, “When we are married that would never happen, but let me think about it, Angel.” Her nails play a melody against her phone case and she observes patiently as he seriously thinks about the answer. She isn’t at all offended that he is considering the possibility of their divorce. She put him up to it after all.
He steps forward, clearing his throat and getting her out of the chair so he can sit with her on his lap. “The three things I would take are our kids.” She wants to object to question why he wouldn’t want her to see their kids, except she can see he isn’t finished. “Then Tabitha. Of course, if she hasn’t passed on yet. And the last thing I would take with me in our divorce would be you.” Y/N chuckles with a shake of her head, “That’s not exactly how a divorce works, Rafe.” “Angel, when I put a ring on this finger,” he begins, holding up her left ring finger. “It isn’t coming off unless you are washing your hands or going to sleep. You are mine and I am yours, forever and always. If you don’t know that already, then you are going to have to learn.” The words board on toxic, yet anyone who knows Rafe knows it is how he shows his passion. Whether others understand that or not, Y/N comprehends his words have no threat or danger behind them and her opinion is all that matters. It is a display of his possessiveness and his devotion to her. “Damn, Rafe, I didn’t know you could be so possessive,” she teases. He looks her dead in the eyes, “You are the only thing I want in this world, Angel. And I would be a fool not to do everything I can to stay by your side.” She seals his statement with a smile and a kiss on his lips.
Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming
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hawkinstales · 4 months
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Where I Can't Follow — Eddie Munson x Best Friend Reader
summary: the tale of two best friends, trying to navigate through their unresolve feelings for one another.
author notes: here we go, my first fic. this is a rewrite/redirection of a story I wrote a while ago. I didn't like it very much, feeling like it could be better. I decided to keep it in my drafts until I got my creativity back, and we are back baby. I hope you enjoy the first part of this story, and please let me know what you think.
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He sat in lawn chair — arms crossed, muttering under his breath while his uncle chats with his friends. His argument was strong, but Wayne insisted thirteen was too young to stay home alone, thus dragging him across town to his buddies surprise party.
"You'll have fun, boy. Now quit yapping and get in the damn truck!"
Fun, ha. What a joke! A perfectly good Saturday — wasted. He could be at the arcade, trying to beat the high score in Space Invaders or sneaking into the movies to see the new Dawn of the Dead. Instead, he was stuck here, bored beyond belief.
He groans, loud enough to earn a knowing look from his uncle. He sighs, abandoning all hopes — his eyes close, slouching down in his seat, letting his mind drift away until the world eventually fades.
Eddie was nearly asleep when he heard it — this sweet, joyous, beautiful sound that was music to his ears. He leans up, scanning the yard, lips curving into a boyish grin.
The melody happens again — louder now, closer. The glass door slides open, stealing his attention in time to see you run out the house. His gaze follows you, watching you prance over to the man at the grill. Your father, he presumes.
You wore denim overalls — a baby blue shirt, matching the scrunchie around your wrist and a white cardigan tied at the waist. You were barefoot, and really pretty.
A rare type of pretty — damn near perfection. The kind of pretty that could awaken a young boy's heart, haunts him forever. Infects him, consumes him. It comes to him in your dreams, only to disappear as him wake up. You grow to miss it, crave it, search a thousand lifetimes for it. If you're lucky enough to find it, you pray to all the heavens you never lose it because nothing will ever compare.
His eyes stuck on you, lingering as you skip over to a tree covered in russet leaves. He'd later lean it's an oak tree, and that it was planted by your father when he was a boy. You sit down, legs crossed — back leaned against the rough bark. You open a book, flipping through the pages until you reach one with a folded corner.
Eddie stands to his feet, tongue darting out the side of his mouth. He looks down at his outfit, sweaty palms quick to tuck in his shirt. As Wayne says, a man must always look his best in the presence of a pretty lady.
He swallows his nerves, hyping himself to build up the courage he needs to introduce himself. It's now or never. He walks over to you, standing in front of you — only you're so lost in the book, you don't notice. He takes it as an advantage, noticing every detail even the smallest.
Like the small, faint scar on your forehead, nearly unnoticeable unless someone looks at you — really looks at you. How your eyes shimmer when the light reflects off them at just the right angle. How your brows furrow in concentration sometimes as you read and how you lick the tip of your finger when you turn every page.
"Are you going to tell me your name or just stare at me?"
He froze, eyes wide — cheeks flush pink. He stammers, looking down at his feet as he rubs the back of his neck. "Eddie, I um, I'm Eddie." He clears his throat, unable to look you in the eyes. "What's your name?" He ask, and you tell him yours.
"That's — That's a good name!"
He chews on his bottom lip, swaying on his feet and fidgeting with his jacket sleeve. He's unable to form words, mentally cursing to himself as Eddie just stares at you.
You just giggle, staring up at him through the your lashes. He laughs nervously, the collar of his shirt feeling extremely tight all of a sudden — he fidgets with the oversize ring on his finger.
By some miracle, fate seem to be on his side — his face lights up, catching a glimpse of the title of the book. "Lord of the Rings!" He beams, gesturing to it. "Which are you on?"
"The Two Towers, it's actually my favorite." You respond — voice delicate, looking down at your lap and tucking some of your hair behind your ear.
"That's my favorite, too!"
"Yeah!" You chirp, glancing back up at him. "Would you like to read with me?"
"Hell yeah I would!" Eddie doesn't waste a second, taking a seat next to you. The smile on your face stretches ear to ear, causing your nose to crinkle.
The two of you stayed under that tree for hours, taking turns reading and acting out your favorite parts. "Don't go where I can't follow." Eddie recites, eyes on you.
When reading grew tiresome, you resort to doodling. You challenged each other to a drawing contest — winner gets to draw a tattoo on the other, and that's how Eddie ends up with a daisy drawn on the back of his hand.
He asked you to go easy on him, give him something cool like bats or a dragon, but when you gave him that wicked grin — Eddie knew he was in trouble. He'd groaned, complaining the whole time about how daisies are so not metal.
You even made him hold up the back of his hand when your mother asked to take a picture of the pair of you. Truth is, he absolutely loved it — didn't wash his hands for weeks until eventually the tattoo vanished from his pale skin.
His uncle practically had to drag him out the door and to the truck as Eddie rambles about coming back as soon as he could. "If he won't bring me, I'll steal the truck!"
You stood in the doorway, nodding and laughing at his antics. Waving goodbye, the two of you wore matching smiles and longing in your eyes. Eddie kept his eyes train on the rearview mirror, watching your house disappear in the distance.
When he got home, he rushed to his room — almost knocking down Wayne in the process. He sits on the side of his bed, fingers gliding over the polaroid. Opening his bedside table, he takes out his copy of Lord of the Rings.
Page after page, he flips through the book until he reaches a specific page. "Don't go where I can't follow." He reads, reminiscing — a soft smile on his face, sighing Eddie closes the book.
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hunnylagoon · 19 days
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𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐔𝐧𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐀𝐧𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐥
Chapter One: Be Nice To Me
The Last of Us AU
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I barely remember my own name for I am no longer human enough to have one.
Premise: The flames of the campfire fizzled out entirely while Ellie Williams was unknowingly enduring what was the beginning of the end. Following short after, Ellie begins to develop unnatural tendencies that terrify both her and Joel, leaving the two of them to learn what it means to no longer be human.
Warnings: violence / gore if you squint / upcoming angst / weird ass behaviour
I’ve got boulders on my shoulders, collarbones begin to crack. There is very little left of me and it’s never coming back.
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Jackson was a small town with little to do if you were a teenager, so the seventeen-year-old residents favoured a drive to Cindersnap forest just on the outskirts to chug back beer and complain every little thing that nipped at their minds. The night sky was so clear that you could count every star, and the air was filled with the scent of pine and the earthy aroma of the forest.
These yearly camping trips shifted in nature when Jesse and Dina got together. Ellie appreciated that they would let her tag along with them but she couldn't help the slight bitterness that crept into her thoughts when she watched the two of them whisper and giggle in hushed tones. It was no different around a campfire than in the school cafeteria or the back of her geography class.
Jesse's playlist hummed softly through an old speaker while Dina stood up, plunging her hand into the cooler to pull out a can of the shittiest beer they could find. "Guys, watch," She spoke, calling the attention over to herself before she punctured a small hole into the bottom of the beer can, cracked the top open and chugged. Dina was far from loving the flavour but drank nonetheless until beer dribbled down her chin and onto her bright red hoodie. 
"Was that meant to be impressive?" Ellie asked but she couldn't fight the smile on her face.
"Yeah, because you can out-drink the shotgun queen," Dina sunk back into her foldable lawn chair, voice dripping with sarcasm.
"Who gave you that title?" Jesse looked to his right to face his girlfriend.
"Sarah McKinnon, April twenty-third," She announced, very matter of factly.
"Didn't realize we were carbon dating," Ellie pushed herself off the log she had been perched on for the last hour while she stared across the fire pit at her two friends through flames the colour of tangerine. "Alright, shotgun queen," She teased Dina, grabbing a beer from the cooler and holding her hand out for the pocket knife "I fear this is the day you get dethroned."
She sucked a sharp breath through her teeth, reaching into the pocket of her hoodie for the blade "I fear you are very mistaken."
Jesse raised an eyebrow, smirking. "You sure you can handle it, Williams?"
Ellie shot him a defiant look, popping the can and preparing to pierce it with the pocket knife. As she positioned the knife, the metal gave way too quickly, and the blade slipped past the can, cutting into her palm. "Fuck," She hissed in pain but simply switched the hand holding the beer can, wiping her bloody laceration onto her denim shorts. 
"Jeez," Dina said, a crease forming between her brows as she watched the blood soak into Ellie's shorts "Might wanna back down."
Ellie ignored her and sunk the blade into the can which sprayed its foamy contents into the fire before she quickly stopped the eruption by attaching her lips to the puncture and guzzling it back, tilting her head upwards to the moon. She crushed the empty can in her hand, smiling victoriously. "What do we think?" She asked "New queen?"
"Debatable, one of us cut their hand open and the other is perfectly intact," Dina held out her palm, expectantly "I'm taking away your knife privileges for the night, you are still permitted to drink beer like a regular human."
"Jesse?" Ellie looked toward the drowsy man, he pulled his hood over his head and leaned back with his arms crossed.
"I hate to say it Dina's got a pretty strong argument," 
"Wow," Ellie drew out "Not a shred of honesty around here."
"Please enlighten me," Dina says, leaning forward, elbows propped on her knees "How was butchering yourself better than my perfect chug?"
She was nearly offended that she had to explain herself "Uh, because I'm gonna have a sick ass scar and I cut myself and kept going."
"That was pretty badass," Jesse nodded.
"Yeah, sure," Dina scoffed though her tone was light-hearted "I expect you to write me an apology song for getting blood on my knife but I'll also accept gift cards."
"Too bad I will not be doing either of those things," Ellie wrapped her flannel higher around her body. She held her bleeding hand out in front of her, watching the red liquid pool out and drip down.
Jesse caught onto this small act "Does it hurt?"
"Nah," Ellie looked up at the pair, flyaways had fallen out from her ponytail and framed her freckled face "I should probably call it a night though." She could feel eyes on her as she rose to her feet, awkwardly holding her hand out so she didn't wreck her clothes further. Part of her wanted to stay up until the morning light hung overhead but the more rational half of her brain kindly reminded her that the last time she was tipsy by a fire she lit the cuffs of her pyjama pants on fire and had to endure the jokes to that very day.
"Goodnight," Jesse readjusted in his chair, tugging on his hoodie strings to tighten the hood clinging around his head.
"Night, Els," Dina gave her a little smile, scootching her chair closer to Jesse.
It would've been nice if they thought ahead enough to bring bandaids but alas, Ellie had to pour some water from her plastic bottle over it and let the cut encrust with a scab. Though the campsite was barren that night, usually, she could hear the sounds of families and couples chatting amongst themselves but then it had only been crickets chirping between blades of grass and the distant sound of her two friends laughing.
It wasn't rocket science to remember where they pitched their tents, it was the same every time they visited the sight: right next to the wood-splitting block, a red axe wedged in the center for whoever needed to cut firewood. 
She paused, her senses sharpening. The habitual sounds of crickets and rustling leaves seemed to have stilled. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up as if responding to an unseen presence. Ellie turned her head slowly, scanning the darkness. She couldn't shake the feeling that eyes were on her, watching from the concealment of the trees.
Without waiting another beat, Ellie ducked into her tent, bright yellow and a stark contrast to the black one that Dina and Jesse would be sharing. That was another thing she hadn't been fond of when the couple started dating, they used to share one big tent to simply sleep under the stars but now that they were separated Ellie was still kept awake by the pair's constant flow of conversation.
Ellie didn't bother to change out of her flannel, all she did was take her bloodied shorts off and slip into a pair of clean sweatpants. She wasn't one to be neurotic over what she wore, especially when she was camping and the only ones to behold her were the beedy eyes of animals. 
She lay in her sleeping bag, nestled within the comforting embrace of her tent, a duffle bag propped under her head as a makeshift pillow. The day had been long and filled with hours of roaming around the woods and eating smoked hotdogs by the lake. As the night dragged on, Ellie's weariness grew, her eyelids heavy with exhaustion. Despite her unease, sleep eventually claimed her, and she drifted into a fitful slumber.
It was nearby rustling that had woken her. She heard it then, pounding against the beaten dirt ground, at first Ellie had assumed it to be either Jesse or Dina until she checked her phone and saw the time read two thirty-seven am. Looking at the thin walls of her tent she was searching for the warm surge of light peaking through that signalled her two friends were still at the fire though all that shone was dim moonlight, no sign the pair were even in the vicinity.
A low, menacing snarl, so deep it reverberated through her bones. The sound was close, too close. Her breath hitched, and her heart pounded in her chest. She could barely make out the shape of something moving just beyond the circle of light cast by the moonlight, a hulking shadow blending into the darkness and dancing on the canvas of her tent. 
With the sound of a guttural growl, her heart lurched in her chest. Fear shot through her veins like ice as she realized she was no longer alone in the darkness of her tent. She scrambled to sit up, her hand instinctively reaching for the zipper to flee, but before she could even make a move, a massive weight crashed into her. A muzzle with jagged black rotting gums tore through the yellow polyester tent.
Pain exploded in her thigh as sharp teeth sank into her flesh, tearing through fabric and skin alike. Ellie screamed, her voice drowned out by the ferocious growls of the creature attacking her. She fought back desperately, kicking and flailing, but its grip was unrelenting, its strength overwhelming.
Through the haze of agony and panic, Ellie caught a glimpse of yellow eyes gleaming in the darkness, filled with primal hunger and fury. It was a wolf, its fur matted and stained the colour of a rusted penny with dried and crusted blood, a creature driven by instinct and desperation. It was unsettlingly large, it’s haunches muscular.
It had felt like every part of her leg was torn apart, fangs clamping down in a new spot every time to get a good grasp of its prey. It was like someone was using a dull axe to butcher her, an axe so dull you had to muster up all of your brute force to make an impact and whoever was wielding the axe wasn't a skilled woodsman, their cuts were messy and they never landed in the same spot. Ellie was sure this would be it for her, dead in the Cindersnap forest, her remains never to be found, discarded in her ruin of a tent until animals picked apart her dead carcass. 
Her mind raced, adrenaline coursing through her veins as she fought for her life. She clawed at the ground as the wolf began to drag her away from the tattered wreckage, her nails leaving marks on the ground as cried out. She could feel her strength waning, her vision blurring as darkness threatened to consume her.
Just when she was ready to end her thrashing and let herself be eaten alive, a flurry of movement and shouts echoed from nearby. Through the haze of pain, Ellie heard Jesse and Dina's voices, their cries filled with fear and urgency. They had heard her screams, and now they were screaming themselves. 
Jesse didn't wait another second before he pulled the red axe from the wood-splitting block, he raised it over his head as he had practiced for years of cutting logs and brought it down onto the spine. The wolf let out a yelp, its body contracting, teeth scraping over Ellie's calf as it turned its attention to Jesse. 
He didn't want to take the risk that it would take its turn at him or Dina, so he swung again, hitting it in the neck. Jesse's grip had slipped from the handle, letting the axe sink into the neck, the wolf staggered and whined. It growled low for a few moments that stretched into eternity until its abnormally large body collapsed on the ground over the top of Ellie. She could hear its ragged breath, see the life slipping from its amber eyes as its sanguine blood pooled over her. 
Everyone waited for the animal to go limp but it just writhed there until Jesse used his foot to repeatedly kick the beast until it rolled off Ellie, he pulled the axe out and swung again, this time it fell flaccid, with no more unsteady rise in its chest. Just stillness.
"What the fuck!" Dina shouts, her arms thrown out in front of her in exasperation, eyes pulled wide by the terror before her.
Dina ducked down, hooking one of Ellie's arms around her, urging Jesse to grab his car keys from his bag. In a short amount of time, both of them were on either side of her, supporting Ellie while they practically hauled her to Jesse's truck, leaving everything behind.
Both Dina and Jesse were speaking affirmation into her ears, trying to reassure her that this memory would long pass them but everything just rang in her head, mind going numb. 
She couldn't focus on anything other than the bloody mass that consumed her leg. Long serrated wounds and sunken teeth markings lined all the way up her leg, from the scrapes on her thigh to the flab of flesh on her calf that was being held together only by tendons. She finally released the sob that was building in her throat, it was like every awful thing she had ever felt was seeping through the gaps of her teeth. 
Looking down at her clothes soaked in blood that wasn't one hundred percent hers and clung to her body she saw her future slipping away. The soccer scholarships she had put everything towards gone in the span of the few minutes that it took the wolf to maul her.
They reached the car, and Jesse opened the back door while Dina carefully eased Ellie into the seat, trying to keep pressure on her wounds. Blood stained the seats, but that was the least of their concerns. Jesse jumped into the driver's seat, starting the engine with shaking hands. Dina climbed in beside Ellie, never taking her eyes off her friend and gently caressing her head with wiry hands intended to soothe.
Inside her head, thoughts rang through like bullets, each coming faster and more panicked than the last. She couldn't look at Dina or the street lights gliding past them, it was just Ellie staring at her near mangled leg. She couldn't even hear her heart beat like it was a prisoner to her rib cage. She closed her eyes, clamping them and trying to wake up from this terribly painful nightmare but there it was burned into the forefront of her brain, the wolf with rotten gums and jagged teeth digging into her leg and peering into her head with those loathsome yellow eyes. 
"Ellie?"
Ellie groaned and blinked several times, trying to get her eyes to readjust to the stark light flooding into her bedroom from the hallway. It had been three days since the mauling and Ellie was more than happy to seclude herself so she could avoid those pitiful stares from the public.
Joel stopped in the doorway as his eyes hit the darkness of the room. The first sign that something was really wrong was just how dark it was. There were blankets up over the windows, blocking out any trace of daylight that might be able to bleed its way in. In the blackness, as his eyes adjusted, he could see her in the middle of her bed, blankets pulled to her neck despite the warm weather, facing away from him, staring at nothing.
"Kiddo, are you sure you don't want me to take the day off?" He furrowed his eyebrows, studying the limp figure of his daughter. She had been in the exact same position when he came into her room the night before.
"Yes."
His eyes shifted to the plate of food he had left on her dresser last night before he went back to the dining table to eat his dinner alone. The pasta was untouched, the sauce became gelatinous, and everything in the bowl just stuck together as one thing. With a disgruntled sigh, Joel took the cold bowl of pasta and replaced it with warm French toast and a little side of syrup. "Ellie, you gotta eat something."
"Okay." She had been saying that for the last three days, agreeing with whatever Joel asked of her without actually doing it. This included showering, her auburn hair was greasy and unkept in a ponytail. The gauze wrapped around her leg and tucked beneath the splint was beginning to smell like vinegar.  "I mean it," He said firmly "It doesn't gotta be this breakfast, you can go downstairs and get something from the fridge or ask Dina to bring some takeout, maybe Tommy and Maria could come over and cook ya something. Some sunlight wouldn't hurt either."
"Okay," Ellie repeated, voice mellow. Had there been another source of noise in the room Joel wouldn't have heard her at all.
The animosity simmers for a minute while Joel regards her with fretful eyes "Is it the painkillers?" He asked "Or the antibiotics? We can try a smaller dosage."
The figure on the bed looks lifeless, had she not spoken to him moments prior, Joel would've assumed the worst. She only been released from the hospital the morning before and she had spent her entire time back home staring at her wall like a blood-sniffing shark.
"I can't sleep," She said, voice flat. "I'm so tired and I can't sleep."
"Do you want me to grab some melatonin?" 
"No."
"Maybe if you got out of bed for a bit it would tire you out."
"Please just go away."
Joel pressed his lips into a thin line, lowering his chin in the slightest "I'm gonna head out now, just thought I'd come to say hi," He waited a moment for Ellie to respond then waited another, accepting the stillness he spoke again "I'll be home at three, maybe we can cook dinner together."
"I just want to sleep."
"Alright," He turned "I'll let ya sleep."
It had been seventy-six hours since Ellie last slept, a moment before she was dragged out of her tent and chewed up like gum between a heavy jaw. She had spent the first two days gazing up at the obscenely bright hospital ceiling, the lights burned her retinas but she couldn't look away. 
In the hospital, she had refused to eat when the nurses insisted she had thrown up her guts and they decided that a drip feed would be mandatory. If only she could sleep or drink. The insomnia was worse than the thirst. It was driving her mad. It had been days, full, entire days since she had slept.
 She was afraid to look in the mirror or at the camera of her phone because she had an idea of the gaunt face that would be looking back at her and the vague idea mortified her. 
On the fourth night from the mauling, something had begun to seethe inside of Ellie, she shot up, drenched in sweat. Her body felt as if it were on fire, a searing heat coursing through her veins. She threw off her blankets in a desperate attempt to cool down, but the air in her room was no relief. The heat radiating through her body was so intense it felt like there were bugs crawling beneath her skin, burrowing and laying their eggs before they chewed their way out. 
She stumbled out of bed, her legs shaky and weak, barely supporting her weight. Her skin felt raw and tender, the sensation unbearable. Instinctively, she began to scratch, her nails digging into her arms, trying to soothe the burning that seemed to radiate from within. The throbbing pain from her leg had been subdued by the fire burning beneath her skin.
Ellie began to scrape the skin on her forearms, followed by her neck, torso and legs, everything was stinging with this scolding sensation. She had gashed at her skin frantically, twisting her body and clawing at it in an attempt to make it stop, all that this did was turn her skin red and leave nail marks across it. 
Summoning all her strength, Ellie crawled to the bathroom. She pulled herself up to the sink, using the counter for support, and then, with determination for this to end, she stumbled into the shower.
She turned the handle to the coldest setting and, without a second thought, stepped under the icy spray, fully clothed. The shock of the cold water took her breath away, but it also brought immediate relief. The burning sensation began to fade as the cold water soaked through her clothes, cooling her fevered skin.
Ellie leaned against the tiled wall, letting the cold water wash over her. Her breath came in ragged gasps, but she felt her body temperature slowly beginning to drop. The pain and burning subsided to a dull ache, and for the first time in what felt like hours, she could think clearly. 
Without meaning to she let out a choked cry, hands running down her face while she looked down at her body. The splint was now soaked with ice water and the red scratch marks covering almost every inch of bare skin visible. 
Ellie stood there, her mind foggy and overwhelmed by the fever. She had no idea what was happening to her body, why it was betraying her in such a painful way. The room spun around her, shadows dancing on the walls, and she fought to stay conscious, fearing what might happen if she let go. Suddenly the concept of sleep was feeling very frightening.
On the fifth night, Ellie had hobbled her way down the stairs, splint dragging behind her after Joel had told her he was worried and went to bed. She was driving herself insane, she could hear her own heartbeat and the wet squelch of her blinking pounding in her ears.
Her thoughts often returned to the shotgun in the shed. She craved death in the same way she used to crave a Gatorade at a track meet. She was loyal to her numbness like a penny in the pocket of a priest. 
She hadn't before thought about killing herself, not until she had been kept awake for five days by the image of glowing amber eyes ripping her apart. Something was most definitely wrong with her body. She knew the very second she looked in the mirror, past her baggy clothes her collarbones had jutted out and her ribcage was prominent beneath freckled skin. How her spine grated against everything she laid across would have almost any other person in a ward.
Joel's casual steps in the hallway had morphed in her ears to the sound of heavy boots stomping on sheets of metal. The night was preferable to the day when children would run through the streets and throw water balloons at each other on neighbours' lawns. Each screeching laugh she heard brought her closer to hammering nails into her ears just so she could avoid those little sounds.
It didn't help that she could smell everything too. Joel's morning coffee was usually the scent that kept her awake staring at the ceiling followed by all of his wallflowers which she had taken the liberty of unplugging and hiding in the shed next to the shotgun. She had also sniffed out her almost ancient body sprays from middle school and thrown them out, it had taken her minutes to source out the smell that was burning in her nose.
What brought her downstairs that night had been her appetite, intense and sinking. She was sure hunger would have killed her. Five days of an empty stomach that rejected everything she put into it ended with a brief shaking moment where she was filled with an insatiable craving that hit her all at once like a thousand knives to the gut.  
During one of Joel's daily checkups, he informed her that he bought ribeye steaks and suggested they have a mini barbeque with Tommy and Maria but Ellie did little more than sink further into the mattress where she had rotted. It was clear with every passing second that something was deeply wrong with Ellie at first she chalked it up to side effects from all the anti-biotics and painkillers and insisted to Joel that was the only issue but with her smell and hearing overwhelmingly strong she was sure the problem was something more unnatural. 
The moon hung low in the night sky, casting a silvery light through the kitchen window. Ellie stood at the stove, the sizzle of the steak in the cast-iron skillet filling the quiet house. The aroma of searing meat was intoxicating, stirring a deep, hunger within her. She tried to ignore the gnawing craving that had plagued her since the transformation, but tonight it was particularly strong.
The house was quiet, but her senses, now heightened beyond the norm, picked up the smallest sounds. She could hear the soft creak of the house settling, the distant hum of a car engine on the road, and something else—something closer.
Her ears twitched at the faint sound of soft footsteps outside. She focused, and the noise became clearer. Tiny, deliberate steps on the wooden porch, accompanied by a rapid, almost fluttering heartbeat. A cat.
On the patio, she could hear the neighbour's overweight calico cat, Fudge. He favoured the Miller household on the nights the Andersons fell asleep before letting him inside. She could hear his little paws padding up the wooden steps and then find his perch on the rails of the patio that Joel renovated himself, they were sturdy enough to support the pudgy cat. 
She turned her attention to meticulously seasoning the steak, her movements precise and controlled, a desperate attempt to hold on to the rational part of her. As the meat cooked, she watched it intently, the marbling of fat melting into the rich, red flesh. The scents were overwhelming, and she swallowed hard, trying to maintain her composure. She stood right in front of it, counting down the seconds she had to cook it.
Compared to Joel, Ellie was awful at cooking meat. He prided himself on his barbeque skills, one of his most valued possessions was his meat smoker and the thoughts of warm July days, sitting on the back porch and eating whatever Joel had cooked made her eyes gloss over with craving. 
After a few minutes, Ellie flipped the steak, listening to the satisfying crackle as it hit the hot pan. Her mouth watered, and her senses were alive with the sounds and smells of cooking. She focused on the task, grounding herself in the familiar routine, hoping it would keep the feeling at bay.
Once the steak was perfectly cooked to a rare finish, she plated it carefully, adding a simple garnish of herbs for no other reason besides she thought it looked fancy. She carried the plate to the dining table, her steps measured and deliberate. She wanted to eat like she used to, to enjoy a meal with dignity and grace, but the primal hunger was a constant, roaring presence in the back of her mind.
Ellie sat down, taking a deep breath to steady herself. She cut the first piece of steak, the juices running onto the plate, and brought it to her lips. The taste was incredible, a burst of flavour that seemed to ignite every nerve in her body. She closed her eyes, savouring it, trying to hold on to this semblance of normalcy.
But with each bite, the hunger grew stronger. It was a living thing, a beast clawing its way to the surface. Her hands trembled as she cut another piece, the silverware clinking loudly against the plate. Her entire body shook as she raised another piece to her mouth, eyes focused on the slab of meat with an untamed desire. 
Unable to resist any longer, Ellie dropped the fork and knife. She reached for the steak with her bare hands, the warm meat pulsing in her grip. She brought it to her mouth, tearing into it with a ferocity that shocked her. Juices ran down her chin, and she barely noticed, lost in the primal act of feeding.
She devoured the steak, her senses overwhelmed by the taste, the texture, and the sheer satisfaction of fulfilling her deepest hunger. It was messy, undignified, and utterly freeing.
When the steak was gone, Ellie sat back, her breathing heavy, her hands and face smeared with the remnants of her meal, juices from her bloody steak dripping down her arms and chin. She bordered between a mix of shame and relief.
Ellie stared down at her empty plate. She was sick. Sick with the hole in her stomach that screamed at her for more, slowly it began to grow.
She rose from the table, her movements now driven by instinct rather than conscious thought. Crossing the kitchen, she opened the refrigerator door, the cold air washing over her. Her eyes scanned the contents hungrily. There, in the pull out meat drawer, were several packets of lunch meat. She grabbed the first one, ripping it open with ease. It was roast beef, and she shoved slices into her mouth, barely chewing before swallowing. The taste was salty, a little too salty yet she still choked it back.
Next, she pulled out a packet of pepperoni, her fingers working frantically to tear it open. The rich, spicy scent hit her nose, making her mouth water. She devoured the entire pack in seconds, the flavours bursting on her tongue, she discarded the plastic packaging on the floor. She reached for more, tearing through packages of ham and turkey, ripping them open effortlessly with her teeth, the cold cuts vanishing almost as quickly as she could open them.
But even after consuming all the lunch meat, she wasn't near satiated. Her gaze fell upon a package of raw chicken breasts. A part of her recoiled at the thought, but the urge overrode any hesitation. She snatched the package, ripping it open, the raw meat cool and slick in her hands. She brought a piece to her mouth, hesitating only for a moment before biting into it. The taste was different, raw and unseasoned, it was delicious.
Ellie ate piece after piece, the raw chicken disappearing into her ravenous maw. She didn't understand the compulsion, the gnawing hunger that drove her to this. The raw meat was smooth and slippery against her teeth, leaving a small coating of gel on her lips. The sensation was alien and unnerving, yet she couldn't stop herself from biting down.
When the last piece was gone, she stood in the dim light of the open refrigerator, her breathing ragged, as she stared at the empty meat drawer. 
She walked to the sink and began to wash her hands and face, the cold water a shock against her skin, grounding her once more in the reality of her situation. She watched as the water ran red, the remnants of her raw feast swirling down the drain. When she was clean, she dried her hands and looked at her reflection in the kitchen window, the moonlight casting her features in a pale glow. The mess she had made, juice from animal carcasses dribbling down her chin and her pale green eyes seemingly brighter than ever. 
Ellie wanted to be terrified by her actions but the truth was that it was the leading cause for her to finally fall asleep when her head hit the pillow. It was also the reason why she woke up the next morning feeling amazing. 
She was up even before Joel. After wrapping her splint in a plastic bag to keep it dry, she stepped into the shower, letting warm water run over her skin. The last few days she felt too weak to even carry her own weight and now she could see the muscle of her skin like she had just gone for a run and they were still burning.
Closing her eyes she gently washed away at the grease of her scalp with her head and shoulders shampoo and scrubbed at her skin with body wash until the smell of the previous night's binge was gone completely. 
For a few minutes, she felt almost at peace until she stepped out of the shower and wrapped herself in a towel. Last night's rampage had been undeniably weird but she kept coming up with new excuses for her behaviour. With extensive googling she found out she wasn't the only one to crave meat so intensely, it was a symptom of malnutrition and while she knew that couldn't be it she tried to accept the coverup to repeat to herself. 
Using her forearm, she wiped the steam from the mirror. She looked at her reflection, expecting to see the familiar face she'd always known. But something was different. She leaned closer, frowning at the sight of her eyes, which seemed to have strange, golden flecks over her usually pale green iris. Shaking her head, she dismissed it as a trick of the light.
She grabbed her toothbrush and toothpaste, eager to complete her morning routine. As she squeezed the toothpaste onto the brush, she caught a glimpse of her teeth in the mirror. She paused, her heart skipping a beat. Her teeth looked sharper and more prominent.
Ellie dropped the toothbrush into the sink, her eyebrows furrowed as she brought unsteady hands up to her mouth. She ran her fingers over her teeth, feeling the unmistakable points of her canines, now lengthened into fangs. It wasn't real, it couldn't be. Maybe her teeth had always looked like that. She pressed her finger into the canine until it drew blood. 
A wave of panic washed over her. She opened her mouth wider, examining the fangs from different angles. They were not the teeth of a human—they were the teeth of a predator. 
It felt like her blood had run cold. Maybe she was turning into a vampire, she remembered watching those corny series about teen girls sprouting fangs and drinking blood. There were werewolves, she had been bitten by a feral beast and barely escaped with her life. 
She never even believed in myths and legends, it felt all too ridiculous to even consider the possibility. 
Ellie hurriedly pulled on clean clothes, the shock of seeing her fangs still reverberating through her mind. Determined, she went downstairs and perched herself at the dining table. She sat hunched over with her phone out in front of her, an absurd amount of unanswered texts that she didn't plan on responding to. Her fingers hesitated over the keyboard. What was she even looking for? Strange teeth growth? Uncontrollable hunger?
She took a deep breath and started with a simple search: 'sudden appearance of fangs'
The results were varied and mostly unhelpful—articles on dental anomalies, vampire fiction, fang cosmetic procedures, teeth shaving, and clickbait about dental surgery gone wrong. Ellie scrolled past these, her frustration mounting. 
She tried another search: 'uncontrollable hunger for raw meat'
This search yielded more unusual results. Articles about rare medical conditions and eating disorders that favoured odd cravings. But also folklore and myths about creatures that fed on raw flesh. She clicked on a few links, her eyes scanning quickly over the text.
One phrase kept popping up: 'lycanthropy.' Her heart pounded as she typed the word into the search bar.
Pages upon pages of information about werewolves appeared. She read through them, her disbelief battling with the mounting evidence. Accounts of transformations triggered by bites, the phases of the moon influencing behaviour, the insatiable hunger for raw meat—all of it sounded disturbingly familiar.
She stumbled onto forums full of people discussing what they would do if they were a werewolf, how they transformed and who would they kill. There were others posting about their favourite horror movies based on werewolves, an entire article about Remus Lupin. She hesitated, then searched for 'werewolf bite symptoms' There wasn't anything useful that she had read. 
All she had were three of dozens of symptoms. Ellie didn't have weird hair growth, super strength, claws, or abnormal aggression. Typing in werewolves onto Google she was met with a subreddit full of discussion. Ellie began writing out her issue, ready to air her weird behaviour to equally weird strangers on the internet who might offer up some answers. 
astronautical: I think I might be a werewolf- Okay, I know I sound really fucking stupid saying that but please just listen to me. Last week I was on a camping trip and was pulled out of my tent and mauled by a wolf, the first three days in the hospital they had to drip feed me because I wouldn't eat and when I got home it was more or less the same. I didn't sleep since the attack until last night after I binge-ate raw meat and dead ass when I woke up my canines were fangs. A couple nights ago I had a weird hot flash kinda thing but I'm far from menopause, it was like my skin was on fire. My hearing and smell is crazy strong, like I can hear the heartbeat of my neighbour's cat. Can someone please tell me if they have experience with werewolf stuff or if there's another medical issue this could point to? I'm not crazy, I swear. 
xHexical: honestly sounds like rabies 
hunnylagoon: bro thinks they're teen wolf 
cocoah00ves: This could be purely psychological. A lot of times animal attacks can cause trauma even if you don't realize it. PTSD can put you on edge which could be why you're hearing and sense of smell seem to be very strong, trouble sleeping and lack of appetite are other symptoms. If you really restricted food for a few days then your body was likely suffering from iron deficiency and was telling you to eat meat. The heat flash could've been caused by your injury and enunciated by your mental state. As for the canines, hallucination, your teeth are not as sharp as you think they are. 
zylez: Mate you have rabies 
aggravating_olive_38: I wish this was real bc it would be sick asf
littlethought63: This that girl from Wyoming? 
schumber: You mentioned a lack of sleep and that might be causing you to spiral a bit. Take some sleeping pills and mellow out. 
dazednaware: I think it's a PTSD response :( try therapy 
     mcwhoremick-responding to dazednaware: try getting some dick you dumb cunt
          dazednaware-responding to mcwhoremick: ???
multifandomtrash258: friendly reminder this subreddit is intended for discussion of werewolves, not fictional stories or roleplay accounts
With an exasperated groan, Ellie turned her phone off and put it face down on the table just as she heard Joel thumping down the stairs. She felt like her brain had rotten entirely, there was no way she had seriously considered that she was a werewolf.
"Wow," Joel said, one hand up his gray t-shirt and scratching his back "You're up."
"Yeah," She tried for a smile but it still came across as melancholic, it was hardly a smile just lips pressed together in a thin line that carried the ghost of one.
"Well-uh, ya' want breakfast?" He asks in a beeline for the coffee maker, pulling out a mug from the cupboard which reads 'Worlds greatest farter (I mean father)' Ellie thought the corniness of it was hilarious and gifted it to him just a month earlier on Father's Day.
"Sure, if you make bacon." 
Joel was a little taken aback that she was finally accepting the invitation to breakfast. He was shocked that she even had an appetite albeit thankful "Sure, kid." He left his mug beneath the coffee maker, as he waited for it to fill he went into the fridge to retrieve the bacon. He opened the fridge, his brow furrowing in confusion as he scanned the shelves. "Ellie, where did that chicken go?"
Ellie's heart skipped a beat, panic rising in her chest. She hadn't thought about the consequences of her meat-eating binge the night before. "Um, yeah, I got pretty hungry last night," She kept her voice as nonchalant as possible. 
"You ate all of it?" His eyebrows furrowed slightly, newly mourning the loss of his forty-dollar pack of chicken. 
"Yup," She was just thankful he hadn't noticed the missing steak and lack of lunch meat. 
 "I'm glad you're eating but Jesus Christ girl," he muttered "Next time don't eat us outta house and home."
Joel expertly flipped the bacon in the skillet, the sizzle of fat hitting the hot surface and filling the kitchen with a mouthwatering aroma. The savoury scent drifted through the air, tempting Ellie's senses as she watched her father work his culinary magic. The smell of the bacon worked to conceal the stench of coffee that Ellie despised. "How many pieces do you want?" He asked her.
She craned her neck up to look at the bacon frying on the pan "Whatever's left."
His brows shot up, wrinkled creases forming on his head. This wasn't the first time Ellie had some odd eating tendencies, when they had first met and she was still in the foster system, she felt too out of place to eat. Once again when she was fourteen and starting high school, she lost all appetite, only picking apart her meals and leaving almost a full plate. Had she not starved herself for five days, Joel would've said something other than "Alright."
As soon as the bacon was cooked to crispy perfection, Joel transferred it to a plate lined with paper towels to drain. He turned to the stove, cracking eggs into the same skillet, the eggs sizzling in the bacon grease. He slid slices of bread into the toaster, the anticipation of a delicious breakfast filling the kitchen.
Ellie's stomach growled impatiently as she watched the food being prepared. The hunger that had plagued her for days now surged back with a vengeance, the scent of the bacon driving her wild with craving. She tried to resist, tried to focus on the eggs and toast that would make a complete breakfast, but her attention was fixated on the plate of bacon. "What are gonna do this summer?" Joel asked. She had intended to work her job at the movie theatre and plan the rest of the summer around that but with her leg torn up she couldn't possibly stand for hours on end, she could hardly walk. 
"I dunno," When Joel placed the plate of bacon on the table, Ellie's restraint snapped. Without a word, she lunged forward, snatching a piece of bacon and devouring it in a single bite. She barely registered the hot grease burning her lips as she reached for another piece, and then another.
Joel watched in surprise as Ellie wolfed down the bacon with alarming speed, barely pausing to chew before reaching for more. He opened his mouth to speak, concern etched on his face, but Ellie ignored him, her focus solely on the plate of meat before her. "Maybe pick up a new hobby?"
The eggs finished cooking, and Joel plated them alongside the toast, but Ellie barely spared them a glance. Her attention was consumed by the bacon, her hunger driving her to eat faster and faster, as if afraid it would disappear if she slowed down.
By the time Joel sat down across from her, his own plate in hand, Ellie had already polished off nearly half of the bacon. She barely acknowledged him as he began to eat, her eyes fixed on the remaining strips of meat.
Joel watched her with growing concern, the realization dawning on him that something wasn't right. "Ellie, slow down," he said, voice firm. "You're going to make yourself sick."
"Sorry," She halfheartedly spoke through a mouthful. 
"Christ," He muttered under his breath, taking a long swig of coffee "What's the plan for today?"
She shrugged "Sleep, I guess." 
He wished Ellie would do anything other than lay in bed and wilt away. Even if she just sat on the porch, he would be grateful.  "You should invite Dina over, she's been wanting to see you."
"Yeah, I know," Ellie's damp hair clung around her neck while she reached forward for more bacon. 
"Are you two fighting?"
"No."
"So what's going on?"
"Nothing, I just feel like shit and want to be alone." 
"Okay," he pressed his lips into a thin line, bringing his mug to his lips while he watched Ellie devour the rest of the bacon, paying no mind to the eggs or the toast. She finished her meal with a large glass of water that she chugged back in mere seconds before plopping herself on the couch and scrolling on her phone. 
As glad as he was to see that his daughter had finally showered and eaten, he had that deep lingering feeling in his gut that something had shifted inside of her. He feared that she wouldn't be the same without soccer or prospects on the horizon. 
While Joel was at work, Ellie had the bright idea of watching werewolf movies to gain some kind of grasp on whatever was happening. She refused to believe it was purely psychological and she was making all of this up in her head.
She started with the classics, fast-forwarding through the filler parts and scrutinizing the beginning when they were bitten and then the transformation. She chewed on a piece of jerky canines separating it with ease, wondering how much of what she was seeing was based on myth and how much might hold a kernel of truth.
Ellie had intended for these movies to be research for her condition, however, she had gotten distracted while watching Twilight and spiralled through the saga. If she really was a werewolf, were there vampires? What about witches? 
Were vampires like Dracula or Edward Cullen? Maybe there was a wide variety of them. It was also a strong possibility that she was suffering from something else like the continuous comments beneath her post suggested.
Rabies didn't click in her head, she had been given a shot almost immediately upon entering the hospital or so she was told. Nothing could rationalize, she was feral at night and that was a fact that she couldn't link to anything aside from insomnia which wasn't known for making people eat raw meat. 
Abruptly she turned the TV off, her thoughts proving to be too overwhelming. She chose to opt for another one of the suggestions under her post, take some sleeping pills and mellow out. It was at three pm Ellie took five sleeping pills and headed to the bathroom to brush her teeth.
Ellie closed the door softly behind her, flicking on the light switch. The harsh brightness of the bathroom light made her squint momentarily, but she forced herself to face the mirror. The reflection staring back at her was both familiar and disturbingly alien.
Ellie parted her lips, feeling her stomach churn with anxiety. She carefully pulled back her upper lip, revealing the source of her dread—her canines were no longer the small, nondescript teeth they had always been. Instead, they had elongated into sharp, pointed fangs, glistening ominously under the bathroom light. It wasn't a hallucination. They were growing even longer than they were that morning.
She turned her head from side to side, examining them from different angles. Her fingers trembled as she touched the tips of her fangs, feeling their razor-sharp edges. It was undeniable; these were not the teeth of a human. 
Tears welled up in her eyes as she grappled with the reality of her transformation. She closed her mouth, trying to make her fangs less noticeable, but the sensation of them pressing against her lower lip was impossible to ignore. 
-
She had successfully slept for seven hours. The moment she woke she had forgotten about her reality until she mistakingly bit her tongue, the taste of iron flooded her mouth and she wanted to cry all over again. 
Ellie lay in bed, her heightened senses picking up the smallest sounds around her. The house was quiet, but outside, she could hear the faint, delicate footsteps of a cat on the porch. The sound was unmistakable: soft pads against the wooden boards, a rapid, fluttering heartbeat. The primal hunger, which she had fought so hard to suppress, flared up once more.
She tried to resist, gripping the sheets tightly. Fudge sat on the spot on the patio that he always favoured. Ellie's hands pressed firmly into her ears as she dug her face into her pillow, trying to ignore the sound of the Anderson's cat stretching and the ravenous knawing inside of her. 
Once again, she was lying in bed and contemplating her own death. She needed whatever this was to go away as fast as possible. She thought she could keep it to herself so she wouldn't have to concern Joel but every passing second her mind flung between crying while she confessed or putting a shotgun in her mouth and pulling the trigger.
Ellie dragged herself out of bed, and moved down the hallway, her eyes lingering on Joel's bedroom door, slightly ajar, he was fast asleep inside. There was a hunger within her, she needed to eat something or she would chew through her own hand.
Back in the kitchen like the night before, there was nothing left for her in the fridge. Ellie moved to the freezer, where more meat awaited. She ripped open a package of chicken breasts, the frozen flesh burning her hands, but she didn't care. She gnawed at them, the icy texture a strange contrast to any other thing she'd consumed. She continued through the freezer, consuming everything she could find: pork chops, sausages, a roast that she chewed on like an animal.
Her fingers claw at the frozen packages of meat. She tore into packs of ground beef and pork chops, barely waiting for them to thaw. The coldness of the meat did little to dampen her fervour. Each bite was a temporary reprieve from the hunger, but it was never enough. Like a nicotine patch, it hardly worked then it was over. 
As the last of the meat disappeared, Ellie stood in the wreckage of her binge, her stomach churning with the mass of food she had consumed. Yet, the carnal hunger persisted, more powerful and demanding than ever. She felt a surge of desperation, a hankering that could not be satisfied by the lifeless offerings of the freezer.
She needed something fresh.
Her heightened senses picked up the faint sound of a heartbeat, the shuffle of tiny paws against the floorboards. Ellie moved to the door, her senses locked onto the cat outside. As she stepped onto the porch, the cat froze, its eyes wide and reflective in the moonlight. It sensed the danger, but it was too late. Ellie's vision sharpened, her hearing intensified, and her muscles coiled like springs. She could hear the Fudge's rapid heartbeat, see the minute twitch of his whiskers, and smell his fear.
Before the cat could react, Ellie lunged. She was fast, much faster than any human could be. Her hands, flexing, grabbed the cat with unerring precision. Fudge yowled, a high-pitched scream of terror, but the sound was cut short as Ellie's teeth sank into its flesh. Warm blood filled her mouth, and the taste sent a shiver of satisfaction through her body.
She tore into the cat with a ferocity that frightened her, the human part of her horrified by what she was doing, yet unable to stop. Ellie was a passenger in her own body. She devoured the cat quickly, the small body offering little resistance as she consumed it entirely, bones crunching under her powerful jaws.
When the last piece was gone, Ellie sat back on her heels, blood dripping from her mouth and hands, her breath coming in ragged gasps. The hunger was finally sated, but the reality of what she had done crashed down on her with overwhelming force. She looked around, dazed, the remnants of the cat scattered around her. The porch was now a scene of carnage.
Tears filled her eyes as she stumbled back inside, slamming the door shut behind her. She rushed to the sink, scrubbing her hands and face frantically, trying to wash away the evidence of her actions. The cold water stung her skin, but it did little to cleanse the horror she felt inside.
Ellie braced herself against the sink, her body shaking with sobs. She had lost control, given in to the craving, and now she was left with the consequences. The taste of blood lingered in her mouth, a bitter reminder of what she had become. Upstairs she could hear Joel shuffling and quickly moved to the sink to wash the blood off her. It was futile, it had covered the bottom half of her face and sunken into her T-shirt and grey sweatshirts.
When Joel reached the bottom of the staircase and saw the numerous empty packets of meat strewn across the kitchen along with the seventeen-year-old frantically wiping at her skin with a dirty dishcloth. Ellie knew Joel was behind her, she could hear his quickened heartbeat. Never had she felt so terrified, she couldn't face Joel and let him see what had soaked into her clothes, all she could do was let out a strangled sound that bordered between a scream and sob. 
"Ellie?" Joel inched closer, one hand gently landing on her shoulder. She dug her face into her collarbone, trying to prolong the inevitable until Joel used his free hand to face her toward him. He staggered back. Joel's eyes widened as he took in the scene before him—the sanguine covering Ellie, the bloodlust burning in her eyes. His voice was barely above a whisper as he spoke, his words heavy with disbelief.  "What the hell did you do?" 
That was how Ellie Williams spent the first week of her last summer. 
3 new messages
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noahson_tickets: Hey
noahson_tickets: You aren't crazy
noahson_tickets: Werewolves are real
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fairydvsts-blog · 10 months
Text
𝐢 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐲 𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧
JJ Maybank x fem!reader
"i love you" in Taylor Swift's lyrics masterlist
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summary; your husband gives JJ a maintenence job at your vacation house and you spend all summer crushing over your hot new employee
warnings; characters are aged up (both characters are in their mid/late 20's), cheating, SMUT, dirty talk, some neck grabbing, female masturbation, overstimulation, squirting, praising, p in v, unprotected sex. I feel like this shit is LONG af!
a/n; english isn't my first language, so you might find mistakes; I'm open to constructive criticism. Enjoy!
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It was a very warm afternoon in Outer Banks. The sky was completely clear —there wasn't a single cloud in sight— and the sun was shining brighter than ever, but that was not what had gotten you all hot and bothered.
JJ Maybank, the new maintenance guy, was.
As you were lounging on the deck chair beside the pool, holding some random book you weren't paying attention to in your hands, you couldn't take your eyes off him. Being a hundred per cent honest, it had been that way since your husband hired him a few weeks ago. Luckily for you, neither of them seemed to have noticed yet.
You felt guilty for being attracted to him, though. You had been married for two years, and you were supposed to be in love with your husband, not craving other man's touch. But you couldn't help it. There was something about JJ that was drawing you like a moth to the flame; maybe it was his gorgeous blue eyes, his silky blonde hair, or his ripped muscles, or maybe it was all of them together, either way, you had managed to suppress your feelings for what felt like ages in order to not ruin your wonderful —but really boring— marriage.
Little did you know that your self-control was about to go to shit.
You had tried to focus on your reading for several minutes, and to date, you had failed miserably. Your mind kept going back to earlier that day, when JJ had brushed past you in the hallway, remembering how you had looked right into his alluring eyes, wishing for him to push you against the wall and to fuck you right there and then. You had to cross your legs at the thought, feeling your bikini bottom getting wetter by the second.
It was wrong and forbidden, you knew it, but in some way, that made it more exciting.
You stared at him through your sunglasses, mesmerised by the way his sweaty golden muscles glistened under the sun rays as he mowed the lawn. You were so busy imagining how his wet skin would feel against your own that you hadn't noticed the furtive looks he was giving you.
Your mouth almost watered when you saw him grabbing the hem of his sleeveless t-shirt to take it off. He threw it on the floor next to him and then he reached for the garden hose soaking himself with it to cool off. He ran his big hands through his blonde locks to accommodate his hair after that; the veins of his arms on display for you to see.
You swore you saw it all happening in slowmo. The little smirk that appeared in his face just seconds later while he shortly glanced at you gave you butterflies.
You realised something: he was doing it on purpose.
And, oh lord, that just made you want him even more. You were so horny that, for a moment, you thought you were about to literally combust in the spot.
Without giving it a second thought, you gave into the desires you had been repressing for weeks now.
You dropped your book instantly, grabbing the strings that held your blue bikini top in place to untie them. Your top dropped, leaving you exposed in front of a man that was not your husband, but you couldn't care less about that fact. His eyes widened because of the scene occurring before him, but he didn't look away at any moment, mesmerised by the sight of the woman of his dreams pouring tanning oil over her almost naked body.
He had to be delirious, right? The heat was making him delusional, that must be it.
Whether it was true or not, the boner forming in his trousers was pretty real so he picked up his t-shirt, using it to cover himself before he started walking towards the back door of the house. He had to leave before he did something stupid, like accidentally fucking his boss' wife while he was away on some business trip.
"I have finished for the day, Mrs. Ross. Do yo need something else before I go?" he asked in his way out.
He tried to keep the interaction between the two of you entirely profesional and he even resisted looking at your naked breasts. It was the hardest thing he had done in his entire life, though, because since he had started working for your husband, you were the first thing that crossed his mind when he woke up and the last thing he thought of before going to sleep.
But you knew professionalism had flew out of the window after the show you just put.
"Actually, could you rub some oil on my back?" you asked with a playful smile.
You gave him no time to answer and you handed him the tanning oil bottle, turning around after he took it, leaving him completely speechless. He gulped, his eyes looking directly at your ass, only covered by a really tiny thong, and he knew he was done for.
Leaning over you, he purred the oil on your back. When his hands touched you to spread it over your skin, you closed your eyes and almost moaned like a hormonal teenager. He gently massaged your shoulders, then your waist area and finally he reached your lower back, giving you goosebumps.
When you thought that he was over and that he was going to pull away, he surprised you by grabbing the oil bottle one more time, purring it over your legs. He started massaging your calves, moving up slowly, until he reached your upper thighs and a small moan escaped your lips; it had been too long since the last time you had sex with your husband and you felt like you could come untouched.
He leaned in, you felt his hot breath in your ear and he murmured, "You wouldn't believe how many times I have fantasised about touching you like this, Mrs. Ross."
One of his hands grabbed your ass cheek under your bikini bottom while he started placing wet kisses on your neck, making you whimper again. He had to stop, though, when you turned around to face him; he froze at the thought of you changing your mind about what was about to happen, but when you caressed his cheek and placed a gentle kiss on his neck, next to his ear, all of his fears vanished.
"And you wouldn't believe how many times I've touched myself, wishing it was your fingers instead of mine, Mr. Maybank," you whispered looking right into his blue eyes.
"Fuck."
He grabbed your neck and brought you closer to him, your mouths were so close that they lightly brushed over each other. You felt his breath becoming faster and your heart started pounding like crazy when you saw him licking his lips while looking closely at yours, but you forced yourself to pull away from his touch.
"Someone could be watching us, we should get inside," you suggested.
The last thing you wanted was your husband finding out about you and JJ. This was a one time thing, just to get him out of your system. After that, you would go back to being the perfect loving wife your husband deserved.
He nodded, agreeing with you, and helped you getting up. He reached for his t-shirt to cover your naked form with it before grabbing your hand and taking you inside.
"Be quiet," you asked, while the both of you sneaked around the massive house, trying to avoid your nosy housemaid.
You made it to your bedroom successfully and as soon as both of you were inside, JJ pushed you against the door, locking it.
"Can I kiss you?" he questioned, pressing his body against yours.
"Yes, please."
He didn't waste any more time, finally crushing your lips together. The kiss was heated, messy, hungry. His hands sneaked under your clothes to grab your waist with need, pulling you even closer to him. You felt frantic as you wrapped your hands around his neck, kissing him back like you were drowning and he was air.
His tongue slipped between your lips. completely devouring your mouth while one of his hands gripped your neck to keep your head pinned against the door; you broke the kiss, whimpering in his mouth because of the action and he kept his forehead against yours, looking into your eyes as both of you tried to steady your breathing.
"Why don't you show me how you touch yourself when you think about me, baby?" he whispered.
Your heart skip a beat after hearing the words he spoke; you had never done something like that before, yet you nodded, making him smile. He kissed you gently before taking off your —his— shirt and then, only wearing your bikini thong, you moved towards the bed, where you sat.
You placed your feet over the edge of the mattress, spreading your legs, and leaned on your elbow to make yourself comfortable. His eyes never left your body, analysing every inch of your exposed skin.
"You're beautiful," he complimented you, which encouraged you to move your hand down your belly until it disappeared under your last piece of clothing.
You panted when you felt your fingertips brushing your needy pussy for the first time, biting your lip right after. Your cheeks flushed when JJ squeezed his cock over his pants while hearing and looking at you; seeing him so into it motivated you to keep going.
Your fingers started rubbing circles over your swollen clit, slowly at first, but you were so turned on that soon you sped up your movements. You were soaked and even the lightest touch sent sparks of pleasure across your entire body. A small moan escaped your lips when you traced your entrance with two fingers, slipping them inside for a second before taking them out again.
"Take this off, baby, I wanna see you," he pleaded, kneeling between your legs on the bed and grabbing the straps of the bikini.
Yo nodded, pulling your hand out of if and lifting your hips so he could take the thong off. He moaned at the sight of your glistening cunt and placed his hands over your knees to further separate your thighs.
Under his attentive gaze, you pushed your middle and ring finger inside of your pussy, curving them so you could reach that spot in the front that made you see stars with each thrust. You made sure to rub your clit with the palm of your hand, too.
"That's it, princess, you're doing so good for me," he praised you, moving one of his hands up your leg until it reached your chest, where he started touching your breasts, "Wish those where my fingers, baby."
You moaned because of his words as he unfastened his belt with his free hand, unbuttoning his trousers right after. He reached for the waistband of the pants, pulling it down so his underwear was in sight. You gasped when you were able to see the outline of his dick under his boxers; your mouth watered at how big he was.
You added a third finger, desperate for cumming; your arousal was dripping all over the bedding, making a mess.
"I'm so fucking horny for you, JJ," you told him, calling him by his name for the first time, "I'm going to cum."
You couldn't even remember the last time that you had fingered yourself so hard. Or the last time that you had been so fucking wet. He smiled, lowering his hand to touch your clit with his rough thumb, making you moan repeatedly.
You felt the familiar tingling in your lower belly, your breathing hitched and before you could stop it, you were coming harder than ever. Your muscles tightened and your legs started shaking uncontrollably. Overwhelmed by such a strong orgasm, you took out your fingers, trying to close your legs to soothe the sensation, but JJ wouldn't let you do so. Instead, he replaced your fingers with his own and he kept fucking you with them through your orgasm.
"JJ, please, stop, it's to much! Baby... Oh fuck!" you moaned, grinding your hips against his hand despite the overstimulation.
"I know you have another one in you, princess," he said, working his fingers harder and faster inside of you, "C'mon, be a good girl and cum for me."
He placed his free hand over your pelvis, putting pressure there, while he curved his fingers in his direction. In less than thirty seconds he had you coming undone again. Your vision went blank as your entire body trembled and you squirted all over him, crying out his name like a prayer.
It took you a few minutes to recover from the most explosive orgasm of your life, realising you had completely soaked everything. JJ laid down next to you the whole time and didn't stop caressing you for a second while he whispered sweet things to your ear.
You turned to look at him with the biggest smile and you said, "I didn't know I could do that."
The blonde laughed softly, burying his face on the crook of your neck, where he started placing wet kisses while his hand went to rub your pussy again, collecting your squirt to lick it off his fingers with a lustful look in his eyes.
"If I were your husband, I'd make sure you squirted every fucking day of my life, baby." Your cheeks flushed.
You bit your lip, pushing him so he was laying on his back and straddled him, grinding your wet cunt over his clothed dick; he was so hard that he thought he was gonna cum in his pants at the sight of your naked body dry humping his cock.
"Fuck me, JJ, please," you almost begged, still turned on in spite of having come twice already.
"Wait, I have to grabb a condom." He tried to stand up, but you grabbed his neck and pushed him back on the bed, stopping him.
"You don't have to wear one. I'm on the pill and I'm clean," you explained, tracing his abs with the tip of your fingers.
"I'm clean too," he promised, you lifted your hips with a smirk covering your face.
"I trust you," you said.
You helped him getting out of his clothes and your eyes widened when you finally saw his naked cock bounce back against his stomach. He was really, really big. Much bigger than your husband for sure.
You grabbed his dick on your hand, making him moan, and you stroked him a few times before brushing his swollen red tip between your folds.
"Oh my God," he groaned, his head falling back against the mattress.
You repeated the action one last time before you began to lower your hips slowly, shoving his dick inside of your pussy. You moaned at the stretch, placing your hand over his broad chest to steady yourself, and you started bouncing on his cock, trying to find a rhythm that both of you liked. When you saw him frowning and breathing fast, you knew you had found it.
Whimpering, you asked him, "Does this feel good, J?"
"Yes, so fucking good, baby." He gasped, grabbing your hips to help you ride him.
His own hips started thrusting upwards, trying to match your pace, and you couldn't help but moan when he hit the right spot again. You tightened your muscles around his dick on purpose to make him feel as good as he had made you feel before; you smiled when he cried out, pounding into you harder.
"I'm not gonna last if you keep doing that, baby," he admitted.
His hair was stuck into his forehead due to the sweat, covering his eyes a little bit, so you caressed his face and took it out of the way so that he could see you better
"Want you to come inside me, J," you asked for, "Want to feel you filling my pussy."
"Oh fuck, baby, you're so hot...I'm close," his statement encouraged you to start bouncing faster on his cock.
You whimpered when one of his hands made its way to your pussy and began to stroke your clit. You wanted, no, needed to cum again, so you took his other hand and placed it over one of your tits, which he squeezed and started playing with. At the same time, you leaned over him and placed wet kisses all over his chest, feeling his abs tightening under your palm just seconds later, announcing his orgasm.
He became a hot moaning mess under you while you kept riding him through his climax, but his thumb never left your clit as he rode it out, taking you down the cliff with him after a few seconds; your pussy clenched and your eyes rolled back due to the sensation. He sat up, kissing you one last time before he pulled out. You could feel his sticky cum come out of your pussy as you laid down next to him. JJ cuddled you, putting his head over your chest.
"I think..I think you have become my new addiction, Mrs. Ross," he confessed.
You smiled briefly before placing a soft kiss on his forehead.
"I can see you being my addiction, too, Mr. Maybank."
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babybatss-blog · 14 days
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A REUNION LIKE NO OTHER
totk!link x f!reader, 2600 words
authors note: Buckle in, it’s a long one! I went against the poll and wrote both the first and second voted pieces WHOOPS. Anyways, took a lot of creative liberties here due to my strong ass baby fever atm hope we enjoy :)
cw: reader is pregnant and married to Link, One used of Y/n.
summary: When your husband goes missing, you're determined to find him no matter what.
Things are never ordinary with your husband Link. Afterall, he is the hero of Hyrule, but from the moment he appeared bloody and battered on your doorstep things have never been normal. You followed him across the reaches of the world to save the society you love, settled in Hateno village together and eventually married there. You even fell pregnant with his child and was happier than ever. That was, until he disappeared.
Your husband was gone on another expedition with the Princess, yet this time he was more reluctant due to your impending birth date. You assured him you would be fine, giving him a sweet kiss on his forehead. Your charming husband, always so compassionate till the end.
Three days later you are knitting some baby mittens when a strong rumble knocks the cottage. Shrieks are heard from the village and birds erupt from the luscious trees, as a sturdy stag leaps out of the brush to gallop on your front lawn. Chaos ensues, but you have no reason to focus on the absurdities. Clutching your heavy belly as you burst indoors, you hide under the table for cover. The cottage still rumbles violently underfoot, but all you can think about is your husband and unborn baby. You can’t live without them, you just can’t.
But the earthquake is gone as fast as it came, and the small quaint town is quiet once again. Deep breath in, deep breath out. You’re safe, you’re fine and everything is normal. But of course, you can’t get up. You struggle and twist, trying to get up but you just cannot seem to. Going against the growing embarrassment in your mind, you call for help. After two hours or so of incessant yelling, Dantz the local farmer appears at your doorstep.
“Ma’am, are you alright?” He asks, after promptly helping you up. “Was that an earthquake?” you ask, expecting a nod or affirmation in response but instead, you are faced with an empty, almost regretful face. “What was it Dantz?” A long silence ensues, as he looks at his shoes, seemingly searching for an answer in their mud and holes.  
Finally, he looks up, meeting your eyes with an intensity and fear you have never seen before in the once solemn man. “The castle it… It floated…” Surely he’s joking right? Because Link just went there with Zelda and- “Link…” You realise, the emotions hitting you like a brigade. “What about him?” “He was at the castle with the princess! Are you sure that’s what happened?” He nods, and your heart sinks. “Yes, I’m sure. I was hunting up in the mountains when it rose, I had a view as clear as day. I swear the thing just lifted up, with the evil smoke joining it and the heavens opening up above. But he must be fine, he is the sworn hero of our land after all.”
Tears swell in your eyes. What does this mean? You’re no stranger to your husband’s strength and talent, but you can’t help but fear the worst in this situation. A few of the village women burst through the doors, surely knowing of your distress with the situation. “Oh sweetheart…” One empathises, sitting you onto a chair and wiping away the now gushing tears on your face as the other sends the man to find out more news. You were never really close to the people of the village, as you were in a strange in-between age and kept yourself in a quiet haven with Link. But in this moment, they felt like mothers to you, reassuring you and keeping you and the baby safe.
The next couple of days were agonisingly slow, with no news of Link or Zelda’s whereabouts. The women assured you that it’s because they are still exploring, but you had the wits to know otherwise. When Link had to go on the mission, he swore he would be back as soon as possible. “I’ll be safe, I promise.” He said, sadness in his deep blue eyes despite your assurance you will be fine.
But now you may never be fine. No one will let you leave the house, pampering you with food and gifts just like Link used to do. Whenever they come to visit you the first thing they say is “no news” because they know that what’s on your mind. So, when you gain wind of a group of people from the village going to Hyrule field to begin a search you leapt at the chance to join them, just wanting to find your husband and return to normality once again.
No one stopped you. You may be nine months pregnant, but you are still the woman who aided Link in his journey and have a piercing stare that could scare a bear into defeat. A complex woman you are, sweet but strong, empathetic but harsh. So, packed onto carriages with others hoping to find Link and supplies to set up a temporary camp your journey begins, just praying for his return to be soon. You’ve heard about falling rocks, sinkholes leading to the unknown and the resurrection of Ganon’s monsters, but it wasn’t until you laid your own eyes on them that it became real.
Multiple bokoblins and some sort of monstrosity lead bokoblin interrupted your journey, causing a few men to become injured. One of these unfortunate men fell into a satanic dark goop, which caused him severe immobility. You pray to Hylia that Link will know how to fix this once he comes back.
And there it was, the castle in all it’s infernal glory. As the others set up the camp, you sit starstruck at the sight above you. Not that you could help anyways, with a human growing inside you. Deep down, you already know what you are faced with. This is a great evil, worse than ever before and ever will be. If Link couldn’t prevent this, you fear no one can.
Although you desperately want to stay hopeful, the week following your arrival shows no light at the end of the tunnel. You can barely sleep, gathering information from those around you on all the recorded sightings of Zelda. No Link though. A chef at the lookout tells you that perhaps it’s just a coincidence no one has seen your husband, although you’re not so sure. He’s strong, so strong in fact that if he was alive, he would be with you right now. But he’s not, instead you are on your own praying for his arrival.
Two weeks have now passed, and you sit in the bunker where everyone sleeps at the dead of night. So many of your new friends have become sick from this substance you now call gloom, it seems as if an apocalypse is upon you. Purah has been making towers to survey the lands easier, which you hope sheds a new light on your expedition. If it doesn’t, you don’t know what to do with yourself. Staring at the goddess statue, you have nothing left to do but pray.
“Oh goddess Hylia, please grant me your blessing to find my husband. Our child will join us any day now, and I do not what them to live without him. Without knowing his smile, his voice or his warmth is something I would never wish on our child. What kind of mother would I be if I willingly raised a child in the pits of hell such as this? Please grant this grace to my child, if not to me.” Tears now stream down your weak face, such desperation you have never felt before this moment. You tried to stay quiet in your prayers, but at this point you just give up, wailing and choking on the force of emotion. A crowd soon surrounds you, failing to sooth your despair, but all it does it make things worse. If Link were here, he could calm you down. In fact, if Link were here none of this would have even happened, and you would be safe and sound at home. You are now filled with intense rage at this fact, because in the end he has left you all alone. How could he? He promised, he promised, he promised, he-
Thick wet liquid drips onto the floor, and your hyperventilation subsidies. Oh no… You’re giving birth! Another woman beside you also connects the dots, and jumps into action effortlessly. “Quick, get the nurse, she’s giving birth!” She says, as you pant at the pushing sensation that overcomes you. A couple of men lead your staggering body over to a bed, where you lie down. “Link…” You call, somehow expecting him to appear at your side. But he doesn’t, your alone, with no husband here to aid you…
You push and you scream and you kick, just wanting this Hylia forsaken thing to get out of you. Someone grabs your hand to soothe you, but you soon push them away. It’s no use, you feel as if you are dying, your insides splitting and spilling forth. Strings of curses leave your mouth as the final wave of pain subsides about three hours later, and is replaced by the piercing screams of a newborn baby.
“It’s a girl!” The nurse exclaims, which is followed by the ruckus applause of the landing members. You were never one to thirst for attention, and now is no exception, as you anxiously await holding your daughter in your arms. As the nurse is cleaning up, she asks what the babies name will be. “Navi. Link has always loved that name, it seems only fair that’s who she is.”
Baby Navi overtakes your life, almost causing you to forget why you gave birth so far from home and without Link. You don’t forget it though, because every moment you look to your side or call his name he isn’t there, and grief over takes your body. A month has gone by, and no one will let you join the search. Therefore, you spend most days sitting with Navi outside of Lookout Landing telling her about her father.
“He has blonde hair and blue eyes, just like you. They sparkle when he laughs like yours too, but he doesn’t scream nearly as much as you do. In fact, he’s quite the opposite. He’s a quiet man, but if you’re lucky he’ll tell you a story about his travels. I’m sure he will tell you everything soon, he won’t shut up once he gets to know you.” The sweet girl laughs, acting as if she understands what you are saying. At only a month old, she already is so cheerful and loud. You wish Link was here to see her.
You get lost in this thought, looking up at the castle. If only they let you join them, you could find him, surely. Although, they don’t have to let you do anything. If there is one think your husband taught you, it’s to do what makes you happy. Despite his great responsibility, Link found joy and determination in the littlest things. He would go on impromptu expeditions and quests, even if it made him seem insane because that’s what he like doing. Helping others, and having fun.
So why do you have to listen to them? You go inside to the camp and stride over to nurse who has been helping you with Navi. “Are you able to babysit for a second? I just want to go on a little walk.” You ask, a sweet smile plastered on your face. She graciously agrees, thus giving you a moment to yourself. Trekking up the hilled path of the castle, you go over in your mind exactly where he may be. If he was underground and the castle lifted up, would he still be underground or was he taken up in the ruckus? It’s most likely that he is underground, but he does often climb up to peaks to survey the land.
“Ma’am, what are you doing here?” Hoz, the leader of the expedition asks, with a group of men in tow. “Oh, I’m just here to help. And no, you needn’t worry about me. I’m perfectly fine to join you” You rebut, giving them no time to argue with you. “Are you, sure? I wouldn’t want you getting hurt, and neither would our hero Link.” “No, I’m fine. I know the most about Link, I even travelled with him. I am the most equipped to search.” “Okay then, if you insist. Well, we are all splitting up into different areas to cover more ground. Why don’t you go with my team to the east?”
You go with the group to the designated spot, leaving no time for pleasantries. Once you stop on an out perch, you deliver the needed instructions. “Okay men, here’s what’s going to happen. Five people are going to go to that section, five there and the rest with me. I think Link climbed to the top of the castle to get a view, and we may find some clues there. Otherwise, checking the armour room may be a good idea. If he’s been inside there will be some weapons missing. Any questions?” You scan your eyes across the group, but no one seems to be paying attention. Instead, their eyes seem to be lying behind you, with a bewildered look on their faces.
Rolling your eyes, you turn around. You should have just gone on your own, instead of with these boys who just want to- behind you stands a man, short in stature but with long blonde hair and sparkling blue eyes piercing your soul. They swell with tears, a soft smile on his pink lips.
“Y/n.” The man says, who could only be your husband. You ponder the idea that he is merely a figment of your imagination, but once he says your name everything crashes down. Blinded by his face you sprint forward, as he runs towards you also. You throw your complete weight onto the man who stumbles backwards, but he doesn't seem to care as he laughs and you cry, spinning you around and around.
Finally he puts you down, eyes stuck on yours and the largest smile on his face. “Oh Link I was so worried! I had the baby and I missed you so so much!” “You, you had the baby?” He asks, stepping back to look at your stomach. You nod furiously. “She’s a girl.”
“Navi?” He asks, already knowing the name which causes another nod in response. Your just so happy, you don’t even notice the crowd forming around you. You grab his arm, looking down at your gorgeous husband to see…
“Link!!” You jump back, shocked by the sight of a green warped arm on his body. He nods, looking down also. “We were attacked. I don’t know where Zelda got to, but she teleported away and I woke up with this strange arm.” You look back up at his eyes. They’re full of regret and remorse, as if he somehow failed a mission from long ago. You know he didn’t fail though, because he tried so hard to keep both her and everyone safe.
It doesn’t matter though, because he is here with you. Your family is reunited, in a reunion like no other.
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prettybearbutch · 1 year
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butch/femme/butch fantasy 🤠🌾
I'm thinking about an all-dyke classic country bonfire.
A radio playing, the smell of marshmallows roasting, beer bottles clinking as they're passed around the circle. A couple of butches are wrestling a little ways away, dirty shirts bunching up to reveal bare skin, their laughter drifting through the smoke.
I'm new in town, and really just know the hosts- a sweet butch/femme couple that I met at the local bar on one of my first nights. They invited me over to their property tonight to meet their friends, promising I'd get a taste of the community.
The pair make perfect hosts- splitting up to make sure the guests are taken care of ("Can I get'ya another beer?" "Here hun, let me take your plate"), exchanging quick kisses whenever they pass by each other. When a slow song comes on the radio, they join a few other pairs starting to dance, arms looping around necks and hands settling on waists.
I can't keep my eyes off of the two- I stare as one of their hands slides from her waist to her ass for a quick grope, the way they both laugh as she playfully swats their hand away. The butch's eyes move from their femme to me, and they smirk when they notice where my gaze had been. They whisper something in her ear- even from the distance, I can see the flush in her cheeks and her eager nod. They tilt her chin up, lips meeting in a slow, filthy kiss.
The two put on a show just for me- her hands are on their waist, riding up the hem of their shirt an inch or two to reveal the bare skin of their torso. Their knee slots ever so slightly between her thighs, the fabric of her sundress moving easily to accommodate. I take a swig from my bottle, trying to seem unaffected, but the way my cheeks heat up and my fingers dig into my thighs betray me.
Pretty soon, pairs and groups start to branch off, disappearing into the woods, the barn, various corners around the property. I feel the need to make myself useful, so I offer to start cleaning things up. Especially with such nice hosts, it's only fair, they deserve to sit for a bit and enjoy the dwindling fire. After dropping off a bag of trash at their driveway (and taking a few moments to try and clear my head), I make my way back to the fire, stopping in my tracks at the sight waiting for me.
The two are in a lawn chair, angled just enough towards the fire for their features to be visible. She's sitting in their lap, back to chest, legs spread over the top of their jeans. They have one hand on her stomach, holding her in place- the other is drawing slow circles over the thin fabric of her dress, draped between her legs. She sees me first- her eyes lidded, a hungry smile, her head tilted back to give her butch easy access to her throat. They don't even open their eyes to look at me- lips still pressed to her neck when they start to speak.
"She hasn't been able to stop thinking about this, you know," they murmur, as I make my way closer. They lift the hem of her dress, revealing her cunt, dripping wet. It catches the dying light of the fire behind me and I immediately get to my knees. "A new, handsome stranger in town." Their fingers trace over her pussy, not hard enough to please, but enough to make her shiver. Their eyes open, looking down into mine. The same hungry smile on their lips. "Such a sweet one, too. We knew we wanted to have you the minute we met you."
"Isn't that right, darlin'?" She nods, a whimper catching in her throat as they spread her pussy with two fingers. I'm inches away, the air smells like sweat and sex and ash and woodsmoke, and I feel heady with it.
"So. What're you waiting for?"
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heavyhitterheaux · 3 months
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The Mighty Fall
Molly's Tale as told by @snows-blog-of-fiction
Heaux Tales of Jack Harlow
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Nothing in life is ever easy, is it? It reels you in, gets you all excited for the end result, and just when things are *really* starting to get good, it’s snatched out of your reach, like a toy on the top shelf. I, for one, should have taken better caution. I should have known the perfect relationship with the hottest new rapper in the game - all six-foot-three of a curly-haired, freckled, blue-eyed Southern gentleman who had a smile to light even the darkest days - would eventually come to a screeching halt. I just didn’t realize it would take six months to do so. 
*Come Home The Kids Miss You* has been released. I was at the release party, ready to interview Jack for my media journalism final. I had to impress. I had to make sure the questions weren’t repetitive from every other interview. And most importantly, I had to look my very best. I don’t get starstruck, let alone have celebrity crushes. But something about him was extremely magnetic. Was it the looks? The flirty vibes? Or maybe it was the mystery. 
For as big as he was, he sure did hide a lot. “Right this way,” his manager, Neelam, led me to the VIP room. As we passed the invitees, I couldn’t help but take in their expressions of shock and envy, as if they were all thinking the same thing: “why is *she* VIP and not me?” One woman’s glance captured my attention. It was a mix of concern and pity, like she knew something I didn’t. Opening the doors of the VIP room, my heart caught in my throat as I gazed at the man who would eventually destroy my life. He wore all black, complete with sunglasses, which were removed upon my entry, and a toothpick hanging out of his mouth. 
The table in front of him had bottles of Sprite and Pellegrino, and the entire room smelled of cologne with a hint of weed. 
This is where innocent girls come to die
 “Evening, Mr. Harlow,” I extended my hand for a shake, and he accepted it
. “Call me Jack,” he grinned widely. “Or call me yours. Whichever you’d prefer.” 
Goddamn, those eyes
 Even if I looked away, I could feel them on me. I cleared my throat, maintaining my composure. I wasn’t going to fold that easily.
 “Do you try that pickup line on everyone?” 
“Only the very special ones,” he murmured lustily.
 Was that a wink?
“This is an interview, not a date.” 
“Well, we better make the interview quick, then. And if we’re both lucky, we can still make a date happen.” 
That’s where I folded like a damn lawn chair. To be frank, I’m not sure if the interview even happened. Everything was such a blur. Each time he’d open his mouth, I just fell deeper, like he had physically cast a trance that caused me to stutter and stumble. 
Who am I? Why am I falling so easily? Why can’t I snap out of it? 
But even so, I wasn’t about to complain about the night taking a turn. He ditched his own party to take me for a drive. Normally I’d have 911 on speed dial if a man I barely knew was driving us to the parking lot of an abandoned store, but him… I trusted him. I trusted him enough to consent to us fucking in his backseat. 
My first time
He drove me back to my apartment a while after we talked and got to know each other, and handed me a slip of paper on my way out. “Call me, Molly,” he blew me a kiss as I stood in disbelief.
 The couple of months that followed were nothing short of a whirlwind. He was here, there, and everywhere but Louisville, as he was filming White Men Can’t Jump and doing international festival appearances. Still, he made sure to call and FaceTime me every day. Our relationship was blooming, but I couldn’t tell anybody, as a requirement of the NDA. Even when he invited me to go on tour with him that fall, I couldn’t talk about it. But I couldn’t say no. And then we went to Europe. If this man was inviting me to Europe, for a whole damn month, then we were secure. It was all going the way it was supposed to. Until the day after the tour had wrapped.
It was 8:30 am, and I awoke before him. Normally I’d get straight up to begin my morning routine, but today, I was in no rush. We’d been going and going for the whole month - the past several months, really - and today was our “us” day before we were set to fly home.
We had a dinner reservation that evening, after a day of sightseeing and shopping. He did owe me a new Prada bag, too. But something in my head was bothering me. I wanted to brush it off as me just overthinking like I tended to do, but it seemed like more than just that. Something in my gut had convinced me that this day was going to start and end horrifically, and there was nothing I could do to prevent it. It had all been going according to plan, but I guess the Good Lord always has a bigger plan. 
My thoughts were interrupted by the sounds of Jack stirring awake. He rolled over and placed a cold hand on my thigh, making me jump a little. 
“Morning, baby,” he rasped. God, his morning voice was enough to make my knees buckle. Enough to get me wet, as if we hadn’t fucked four damn times in a row the night before.
 “Morning,” I held his hand. 
“Why are you so cold?” 
“It’s chilly in here,” he wrapped himself around my legs, closing his eyes again. 
“That’s cause you only ever sleep in a tank top,” I giggled. 
“Maybe if you had another layer, you wouldn’t be so damn freezing.” His only response was a couple of snores, before he jerked himself awake again. 
“Were you saying something?” 
“Boy,” I laughed out loud, and he did, too.
 “Why don’t you get in the shower? That might wake you up.” 
“Mmmph, can’t I just stay here?” his eyes were threatening to close again.
 “Well, you could, but you also smell. Go wash up, baby.” 
“Fiiine.” He grabbed a pair of boxers and sweats before heading into the bathroom, as I flipped on the TV, trying to find something mindless to play in the background while I checked social media. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Jack’s phone light up, and my curiosity got the best of me as I read what text he had received. 
Xiomara ❤️‍🔥🤞🏻: “Good morning on your end babyyy I’ll see you soon 😘” 
*Excuse the fuck out of me?* I already knew his passcode, so I typed it in to do a little digging. Come to find out, this Xiomara woman was his fucking wife. The mother of his children. And clearly not an important asset to him considering she’d been so hidden from everyone who interviewed and interacted with him at all.
 Digging a little deeper, I discovered even more gut-punches. Not only was he married with children and failed to tell me, but I was also the side bitch to Vanessa, Grace, Alyssa, Jessica, Mariah, Brie, Gabrielle, Tahira, Noelle… the names just kept coming. Each of them saying the same thing.
 “Can’t wait to see you soon pookie 😋” 
“When are you coming back? I miss your dick.” 
“Love you! Text me when you wake up!” 
And he’d send them all the same response: “You n me forever baby. Love u. ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥” 
This motherfucker… I allowed myself to be heated for one more minute before taking some deep breaths, then screenshotting the messages like crazy. Once I captured what I needed, I sent the photos from his phone to my phone, where I then saved each one in a private folder. I heard Jack step out of the shower, so I went back and deleted the screenshots from his camera roll. He didn’t like anyone but himself touching his phone, and besides, I had all the evidence I needed to do the next step. He emerged from the bathroom, a towel around his hips, but this time I wasn’t mesmerized by the sight of his dripping wet abs. 
“Baby, what’s wrong?” he noticed my solemn expression.
 First of all, I’m not your damn baby, so jot that down.
 “I just got a call from work.” “They know you’re still on PTO, right?”
“Yeah, but…” I faked a catch in my throat. 
“They need me to come back early. Turns out they fucked up and didn’t realize my time off was supposed to end yesterday.” 
“Oh, damn. Seriously?” 
By his tone, he knew I was plotting something, but he didn’t say anything.
“Yes. They said I’m not in trouble, but I just need to get back to Louisville right away.” I got up and started packing a bag. 
“I’m sorry, Jack. I didn’t want it to end like this.”
 Double meaning.
“Don’t be sorry, babe,” he said. “You just pack your bags, and I’ll drive you to the airport. But don’t worry, I’ll be back on Saturday and we can pick up where we left off.”
 Don’t count on it.
“Thanks for understanding.” 
As we piled into the car Jack rented, I pulled out my phone from the passenger seat and got right back to work. I loaded up the screenshots I had saved, then sent a message to both Deuxmoi and TMZ. 
”This may be hard to believe, but I’m Jack Harlow’s girlfriend. Or, at least, I assumed I was. Come to find out, however, I’m just one of many side pieces he likes to drag around and rap about, as I’ll show you here. We all know he’s a private man, but does he have to be so private that he hides away a literal wife and children? Ladies, beware, for nothing can ever be what it seems.”
 Send.
 “Here we are,” Jack announced once we pulled up to the gate. 
“Want me to wait with you inside?” 
“No, I’ll be okay,” I smiled half-heartedly. 
“I’ll text you when I’m back in the states.” 
“Fly safe,” he leaned in for a kiss. 
“I love you.” The most sour kiss I’d ever tasted from that man’s lips.
It didn’t take long for my little message to make its rounds. I’d only been in the airport for less than an hour when I got one last text from Jack: 
“What the fuck did you do?” 
Deuxmoi had a new post on their story. 
TMZ had published an entire article.
 Stan Twitter was going off the rails. 
#JackHarlowIsOverParty was the biggest trending topic worldwide.
 “What needed to be done. Bye now!” As my flight was called to board, I blocked his number. I sat waiting for takeoff and blocked his Instagram and Twitter. The flight crew gave their safety instructions and I muted his music on Spotify and deleted all traces of him on my phone. The plane rose into the air, and I settled back into my seat with no remorse, feeling sorry for all the girls he made those empty promises to. 
So fatal. So tragic. And oh, so preventable. 
Didn’t anyone tell his actions have consequences?
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kiss-theggoat · 11 months
Note
Catch me stretching out in the middle of the forest in a patch of grass. Full-on stretching like a cat before just going limp. Because fuck it- we’re in nature- no one out here and the grass is nice.
Jason just stairing and thinking ‘Ma... What the heck is that?’
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A/N: Jason my sweet boy 🥹 thanks for the request and I hope you like this!
Sweet Stranger
Jason Voorhees x Reader
Word Count: 1k
Summary: You decided to relax away from the camp you and your friends set up, enjoying the grass and cool breeze. You weren’t aware you had an observer.
TW: Canon typical violence, Stalking, Jason is repressed, Mommy issues
You sighed, listening to your drunk friends yell and cause issues in this peaceful old camp. It was barely 5 PM, and all of them were blacked out already, stumbling on the dock, dangerously close to the water. The dread in your stomach was growing, watching Jen’s feet teeter on the edge, you knew if she fell in, she wouldn’t be okay.
You didn’t want to come in the first place. In all honesty, you were a little sketched out by all of the rumors about this place. Camp Crystal Lake was renowned in your little community, known for its hulking creature that killed any intruder on the property. You stayed sober because of this rumor, and because you didn’t want to be sloppy and embarrassing, like your friends.
The cool damp grass was calling your name as you stared into the distance, away from the chaos and the noise. Your knees cracked as you stood from your low lawn chair, grabbing your flip flops from the dock beneath you, sliding them on as you walked away. No one noticed as you left.
The grass tickled your knees as you strode threw it, leaving dew on your hot skin. The sun was nice, but the lake looked so enticing at this moment, you didn’t want to go over there with your friends. The grass was cooling you down, but not enough to satiate you.
You ran your hand over the blades, the coolness enticing you. When you were far enough away to not hear them anymore, you decided, even though you knew it’d make you itchy, to plop down in the center of the grass. Bugs and all. Finally a moment of peace and relaxation, looking up at the blue sky, white clouds moving past you. You closed your eyes, a deep breath bringing in the sweet scent of the trees and flowers around you.
Unbeknownst to you, the man from the legend was true. And there he stood, large hand braving his body against the large tree he hid behind. What he saw in the clearing by his lake was someone different. Someone who wasn’t partaking in the debauchery, someone respecting and appreciating what his camp had to offer. He heard a squeal, turning to see the source of the noise. A girl being lifted by her juiced up boyfriend, and tossed into his lake. Jason knew you were different. Instead of screaming and drinking and having sex, you lay in the grass, a serene look settled on your face. Jason knew you were like him.
He heard the same comforting voice of his mother, the one that directed him to get rid of the intruders and protect the camp, but he knew he wouldn’t be able to kill you. Your pretty skin shined in the sunlight, sticky with sweat in a way that Jason admired. He had a whole new set of feelings that he’d never felt before deep in his gut, feelings that forced him to ignore his instincts.
‘Jason….get rid of them!’ The hissing voice of his mother rang in his head. He had to pull his eyes off of you to walk towards your friends, machete gripped tight and neck veins bulging with anger.
After a while of laying in the cool grass, you’d noticed a suspicious silence down by the dock. You stood up, concern lining your face as you quickly walked over. You didn’t see any movement, didn’t hear any yelling, nothing. Your flip flop splashed, strange, you’re far from the water. Looking down, to your horror, red surrounded your toes in a menacing pool.
“Oh my god…” you whispered, keeping your head on a swivel, heart pounding and hands trembling. A sloshing sound caused you to whip around, facing the lake. You stood in horror as a huge, muscular man emerged from the water, blood and murkiness flowing down his neck beside the chains that jingled as he walked. You began to back up, too scared to take your eyes off of him. He was easily a foot taller than you, muscles bulging through the tattered army green jacket he wore. The machete he gripped was caked in blood, both old and new, now rinsed with dirty lake water and decorated with a string of some sort of plant. As he completely emerged, his boots slammed into the mud, the mere size of him was enough to make you feel helpless. He was no doubt stronger and faster than you, there was nothing you could do.
“It’s true.” You said quickly, not knowing what to do. You were in shock. “The legend…”
Jason listened to you. There was a legend about him? He stood still, ignoring the nagging from his mother. ‘Jason, take care of it!’ She hissed, getting angrier the longer that he stood still, but he couldn’t kill you. He dropped his machete in the mud, adding to the stains and diseases on that thing. You two stood, staring at each other in silence. His head tilted down as he turned to the side, walking away from you.
You began to feel bad for the man. In the legend, he was just protecting his land, and maybe that’s why he isn’t killing you. You weren’t being obnoxious. Jason’s mother was screaming in his head, calling him a bad boy and making him upset. He frowned behind his mask, feeling like a coward and a failure.
“Wait!” Jason perked up, hearing your pretty voice talk to him. He stopped and slowly turned around. Just seeing you made him feel better. You looked up at him with big eyes, probably making a huge mistake, but you couldn’t stop yourself.
“Don’t go.”
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sweetandgentlecreature · 11 months
Text
Sweet Tooth
Author’s Note: Hope you’re hungry for a third helping of Somethin’ Sweet! This one’s my favorite so far, so let me know what you think. Don’t worry, the next one’s gonna bring the heat, so stay tuned. Enjoy! ❤️
Summary: Summertime in Texas isn’t for the faint of heart, but neither is Merrin. AKA: Sy needs a cold shower.
Pairing: Captain Syverson x Female OC 
Warnings: Adult language and suggestive situations. Two idiots in love.  I am an adult, and due to the nature of this content, all works created by me will be rated for those 18 years and older. Minors, DNI.
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Merrin was melting. Sure, maybe some of it was more figurative than physical, but as a transplant from Coroado fighting to make it through her first Texan summer, she was almost positively dying. She learned quickly that, around here, air conditioning wasn’t a luxury; it was a necessity. The humidity rivaled even the most expensive conditioner in her arsenal, so leaving her hair down was out of the question. Her thighs stuck to every pickup truck bench seat, every plastic lawn chair, and every diner booth they came into contact with. She’d gotten pretty good at the ole peel-and-shimmy to wiggle her way out again, but there’s just no graceful way to do that on date night. Underboob sweat. Ass sweat. Eyebrow sweat? She didn’t even know that was a thing, until now. At work, she hid in the walk-in freezer as often as she could, and cussed every time the front door chimed with each new patron that walked in. 
Right on cue, when those stupid little bells rang again, Merrin sighed. She imagined ripping them down from their place above the door and pitching them clear out into the middle of the street, but only for a moment. “Gotta pay the bills,” she reminded herself, and closed the heavy door behind her again. Daydreaming in the ice vault would have to wait. 
Afternoons in the bakery were always slow. Stealing a quick glance at her reflection in the glass on the front of the oven, she dusted off the front of her apron and pushed through the swinging doors to get behind the counter. “Hello! How can I– Well, shit.”  
His laugh came from somewhere deep in his gut as he leaned against the bar beside the bakecase. 
“Well hello to you too, darlin’. Expectin’ somebody else? Must’a been waitin’ on yer other boyfriend, huh.” 
Sy crossed one ankle over the other and smiled. It was rare for him to get a day off, so today was a nice change of pace. The only problem was that he just couldn’t sit still. The yard needed mowing, the old fence at the edge of the property line needed mending, and the tree that had fallen on it needed split. By lunch time, he couldn’t bear to stay away any longer. After a quick shower and a shave (just a trim. Gotta keep his woman’s seat warm, ya know), he made his way to her. That cocky son of a bitch knew exactly what power he held over her, coming in here looking like that, and he played it to his advantage every single time. Damn him.
Merrin rolled her eyes at him and laughed. Clayton’s always been nothing but trouble, yet he seemed especially mischievous this afternoon. The poor bastard never did have a very good poker face. 
“You’re not my boyfriend, Sy. You haven’t even been a boy in a very long time.” 
If the saying goes “not to toot his own horn,” Clayton Syverson had a train whistle. Back in the day, his reputation with the ladies preceded him. Sy was just as perplexed as he was fascinated by Merrin. He’d never met a woman quite like her. She had a good head on her shoulders, and the kindest heart he’d ever seen. Nobody was a stranger for long, at least in her eyes. So fuckin’ smart, smarter than he’d ever be, with both book smarts and common sense to boot. Effortlessly funny in a way that almost made him jealous. Soft in all the right places, both physically and emotionally. Feminine, yet not too delicate. And that body. Jesus Christ. The things he’d do to her, if ever given the chance…
But that’s the thing about Merrin. She knew it just as well as he did. From the moment they met, she’d been keeping him at arm’s length. Sure, the attraction was there, as was the chemistry. Sy’s a fuckin’ dreamboat, and she’d have to be blind not to see that. Merrin’s not afraid of much, but the uncertainty of where he’ll be in just two month’s time…She wasn’t sure if she could cope with that. So instead of opening herself up to him, instead of giving in and just enjoying what time they did have together, Merrin had decided that they could just be friends. Just friends. That was reasonable enough to ask, wasn’t it?  Men and women could be just friends, and only friends…couldn’t they? According to Sy, it seemed that just wasn’t the case. Maybe it was unfounded optimism, or just plain stupidity. Maybe it was just that he wouldn’t hear it. Either way, Sy wasn’t ready to give up on her yet. What she hadn’t anticipated, though, was just how ridiculously stubborn Sy could be. Stubborn as a fuckin’ mule, and Merrin was the one stuck shoveling shit. 
“Boyfriend? Did I say boyfriend? I’m sorry, sugar. What I meant to say was boy-friend. Ya know…a friend that’s a boy.” Crossing his arms over his broad chest, he gave her a playful wink. “A man-friend, if ya’d like.”
“You’re full of it today, aren’t ya, Big Guy?”
She saw it as clear as day, the way her words got the wheels turning behind that darkening gaze of his. No, but you could be. How dare he, the sinful fuck. The thought of being full of something made Merrin’s face burn a bright shade of embarrassed pink, and she turned quickly to distract herself by pretending to fold takeout boxes instead. “What do you want, Sy?”
“Well, see’s as yer not too busy, I was hopin’ ta steal ya away fer a bit. Got somethin’ ta show ya.” Sy looked down at his nailbeds as he spoke and picked at his cuticles. When he met her eyes again, he grinned. “That’s the thing ‘bout bein’ yer own boss, right? Get ta’ make yer own hours.” 
It was a tempting thought, closing up shop and disappearing for a little while. She hadn’t seen a customer in the last two hours, so…what’s the hurt in closing a little early? He had her wrapped around his finger, and she knew it. Defeated, she sighed and shelved the rest of the boxes. 
“Alright. Let me go close up in the back, and I’ll meet you ‘round front.” 
Sy felt victorious, as he watched her loosen the tie from around her waist and hung the apron on a hook by the door. Excited fingers drummed on the countertop in a quick victory dance. He smiled and fished the keys from the pocket of his jeans. “You got it, doll. Take yer time.” 
__
They rode together in the pickup with the windows rolled down, letting the radio compete with the roar of the wind as paved highway turned into an old gravel road. Merrin hadn’t made it out quite this far before, so she had no clue as to where he was taking her. Could’ve been to some of his old stomping grounds. Could’ve been out to the woods to hide her body, never to be found again. There was no way to tell the difference. Gravel let way for a dirt path a little further down the road, and soon enough, Sy was pulling off down a hill and into a grass lot filled with cars. He parked in an empty spot between two other trucks and turned off the ignition. Live music echoed down through the open field, as did the sounds of laughter and jovial excitement.
“I didn’t know the fair was in town!” 
Merrin felt lighter than air. She hadn’t been to a carnival since she was a kid. The smells of deep-fried-everything wafted in through her window and made her stomach growl. If there was one thing that Texas was good at, it was food. Sy cracked a smile and grabbed his wallet from the dash, stuffing it away into the back pocket of his faded Wranglers for safe keeping. 
“Tonight’s on me, babydoll. Whatever ya want, alright?” 
He hopped out of the truck and came around to the other side to help her down again. Merrin landed on her feet with a soft little grunt. She wasn’t quite built to climb in and out of that beast with grace. Dusting away a spattering of flour from her tight jeans, she almost wished she’d had the chance to go home and change. She did her best with what she had, all hulled up in the bathroom in the back of the shop, huddled over a hand mirror with a hairbrush and some mascara from the bottom of her purse. The thought made her shake her head. Jesus, Mer. It’s not a date. Right?
__
Sy led her through the maze of vehicles and off to the ticket booth.  Merrin wasn’t much for roller coasters or anything too steep, so they settled for the bumper cars and some carnival games instead. When he got tired of her kicking his ass, which was really just him letting her win, it was time to eat. Everything looked so good, and there was plenty to choose from, so they each got a little bit of it all to share. Sitting across from one another at an empty picnic table, Merrin groaned as she took a bite from a barbecued rib. When she looked up from her plate, Sy had stopped altogether. His mouth hung open just a bit and his eyes were wide. It made her giggle and blush, and she covered her mouth with the back of her hand as she chewed. “What? Is there something on my face?” 
Sy grinned as he sat back to watch her. He felt a little silly, bein’ so jealous of a piece of meat. He’d do anything to make her eyes roll to the back of her head like that. Down, boy, he scolded himself. Don’t wanna spook her. Merrin read him like a book, shook her head and scoffed in distaste. She punctuated it with a kick to the shin from beneath the table. “Perv.”
He gasped, feigning surprise, and sat up a little straighter. The napkin that was tucked so carefully into the collar of his t-shirt fell into his lap. “What was that for?!” Sy wiped his hands down the front of his pants and sucked his teeth at her. “Ain’t no way ta’ be treatin’ the man who bought you those ribs.” 
“Is that so?” Merrin arched a perfect brow and accepted his jest as a challenge. If he wanted to be a pain in the ass about it, then so be it. Two could play at that game. She let her eyes flutter closed and let another soft little moan of pleasure escape from deep within. Licking her parted lips, Merrin groaned as she took another bite. She laid it on thick, writhing around in her seat as she polished off the rest of the meat from the bone, then licked her fingers clean, one by one. By the time she was finished putting on a show, she looked up at him again and chuckled. His face was beet red, from the tops of his ears and clear down his neck. A vein stuck out at his temple. He was fighting for his life, and she grinned as she watched him squirm. “Thank you, baby. They were great.”
Sy groaned lowly. He let out a deep breath as he decompressed, ragged and strained. If that’s how she acted over some smoked meat, he couldn’t wait to watch her unravel over some homemade brisket, some cheap wine, and a good, hard dicking. Until then, he’s a dead man walking.
“Lord have mercy.”
__
The horizon was painted in shades of pink and orange as the last few rays of light shone against the clouds. A cool breeze blew through the lowlands of the fairgrounds and sent the heat of the day dissipating along with the sun. Merrin and Sy sat on the tailgate of the tuck and watched as the fireflies dipped and danced through the treeline. Merrin let her feet swing freely from where they hung off of the end of the bed, humming softly to the band as they played. Sy was stretched out behind her, belly full and eyes getting heavy as he reclined back to rest against his elbows. Though she couldn’t see him, Merrin could feel the way his gaze lingered on her. Nice and slow, as if to memorize every curve and curl, every thread in her work shirt and every seam in her jeans. Goosebumps spread down her arms and a chill ran down her spine. Every nerve in her body was ablaze for him, until she just couldn’t take it anymore. There was no turning back now. She was too far gone.
“Damnit, Clay.”
In an instant, she was on him, grabbing a fistful of that faded Metallica shirt and tugging him into her. Sy let out a grunt of surprise, but quickly fell into line. He tasted sweet, like the banana split they’d shared just moments before, like the sticky chocolate syrup and whipped cream, but with a hint of something deeper. Something strong and addictive. Something that had her coming back for more. She wanted to savor this moment, to bottle it up, save it for a rainy day, but she just couldn’t make herself stop. She kissed him, and he kissed her, and she kissed him again until the burn for breath broke their embrace. 
Her hands trembled when she finally let him go, chest heaving and achy as she fought for each breath of fresh air. That’s when she saw it. That beautiful little speckle of brown hidden amongst the ocean of blue in his eye. Merrin couldn’t believe she hadn’t noticed it before. Visions of little curly headed babies running around in the yard raced through her mind. They’d have her nose, her lips and sweet little smile, but it was their eyes that had her attention. They were as deep and as vast as the eastern Texas sky, each with their own constellations of honey brown mixed in. They were perfect in every way. They were his. 
Merrin cleared her throat before she spoke again. “White flag. I surrender.” She could feel the rumble of laughter in his chest beneath her, as he reached up to sweep away a loose strand of hair from her face and tuck it behind her ear. 
“Oh, darlin,” Sy smirked. “You never stood a chance.”
__
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