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asterdisaster06 · 8 months

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i love you, ain't that the worst thing you've ever heard?

ghost x reader [exes], slight soap x reader [mostly platonic], platonic 141 x reader

1. 2. 3.

summary > "Don't trust people like me. I will hurt you in the most beautiful and intoxicating ways so that you can never go back to your normal life without my ghost following you."

...

"If you always put yourself before others, one day you'll look behind and see that you're all alone."

...

Simon "Ghost" Riley had fucked up. Massively. He had pushed you away because he was scared of losing you to the life he lived. He didn't want to see you go down the same path and lose that beautiful intoxicating spark that you always carried in your eye. And now he didn't even recognize you. Not after you had done so much work to fulfill yourself, changing the person he once knew. You had successfully climbed the ranks of the 141 Taskforce and was now crowned the second lieutenant of the team. However, you can't dodge the piercing looks that Simon sends you every now and then. You can't pretend forever.

warnings > simon riley is alluded to be a bit of a dick in this chapter

a/n > reader cenetred. author has family issues so will be found family-ing this shit. author has no military knowledge so don’t crucify me. also have no idea how long it takes to officially become a Lieutenant but we’re going with around 5 years - shortened from 7+ because us readers are smart and can go to college. it’s very much just poetic feels, but I promise the angst with Simon directly comes eventually. He’s kind of a dick tbh but that’s cause he’s emotionally repressed. i’m romanticising this because i’ve lived through similar and wish this was how it ended lmao

ao3

Simon Riley was the bane of your existence. His very being pissed you off to no end, and it wasn’t unwarranted. That anger had once been crippling sorrow and grief over what you had lost. The anger had begun as a small seed, planted in the harsh words he growled at you through gritted teeth that night. The same words that you hissed back in his face. But eventually you had managed to move on from the love of your life. Managed to move on after weeks spent with tear stained pillows and the stuffed animal he had won you once hugged to your chest. You would’ve shoved that thing in the back of your closet, but you figured you shouldn’t take your anger out on the poor thing.

Thinking of him still makes you wince like hitting your shin against a table leg, but less so. It’s faded to a simple bruise on your heart that still aches from time to time. A phantom pain for the ghost that still haunts you. Like smoke in the wind. You still fear whispering his name at night as if his spirit will come back to haunt you. You still have the keys to his apartment in your bedside drawer. You still remember where he keeps his spoons. Sometimes you wonder how many cups of tea you’ve wasted from pouring them down the drain after realising you’re still stuck in the habit of making two.

However, you know it’s for the best that you’ve parted ways. It reminds you a little of a moment in your life with him, ironically. There was this one time that you had managed to drag Simon to the beach as a small celebration for him and were out swimming as the sun had set. He only stuck his toes into the water as you swam out until you couldn’t reach the bottom. He had told you he wouldn’t save you, and you shouted back in response that you didn’t need saving. You almost want to thank him now for saying that he’d let you drown. Thank him for teaching you that you never needed saving. Not from him anyways.

It was this exact night that had led to the complete and utter dismantling of your relationship with one Simon Riley. Recalling it stings like sand in the wind against your bare legs. The kind of pelting pain that leaves no visible marks but hurts nonetheless. It steals the breath from your lungs and puts a stone in your heart.

You were so happy, so very happy. And you thought that Simon would be too. Especially for you. You broke the news to him as you were laying there on the beach that you wanted to join the military. You wanted to continue that it was because you had looked up to him so very much and wanted to do good just like he did. Even if he didn’t exactly believe he was. Before you could do so though, he had blown up on you. Completely. It was a complete shift from the Simon you thought you had known. You shudder to recall exactly what he had said, but it escalated enough for one of you to call it off.

It had gone silent after those words were uttered.

Complete silence.

You had refused to let the tears fall until you had grabbed your shit and booked a flight back to your home town. The airport bathroom had offered a greater sympathy than he had ever given you. He never even called you. You think that’s what hurts the most. That you didn’t mean enough to him to even try and work this out. You expected better from him. You truly did.

“I can’t fucking believe how bloody stupid you would have to be to do that.”

Nonetheless, you picked yourself up and signed up for the military with your family and friends supporting your every move. Your every breath. You learned to defend yourself, learned to love yourself. You had gotten around here and there, but nobody ever truly measured up to Simon. Sometimes you wonder what would’ve happened if you two had met when you were already in the military, but you always shut down those what if thoughts quite quickly. No use dwelling on something that could never be.

“This is a big fucking mistake, love.”

You rose the ranks quickly, using your spite to your advantage. Every man that reminded you of Simon always made you fight even harder. You had always told a half truth when someone asked why you wanted to join. Not the story of pain and bitterness, but the one of hope and admiration of an old friend. It made you want to throw up after the third time of giving that response, so eventually you simply changed the subject when someone asked. You didn’t even spill your past when you were blackout drunk; it being too painful even then. You drowned your sorrows in liquor and nicotine, going out with your top tier squad every Friday. Sometimes when it came to a close and you were left with the quiet of your own deafening thoughts you went outside to smoke a pack of Simon’s favourite cigarettes. A weakness that you hated yourself for.

"You are no saint, and you are no saviour either. You're just lying to yourself."

Those words ring out in your mind every time you fail to save someone. A fellow soldier or a civilian, it doesn’t matter. Self doubt creeps up on you, smothering you in its grasp. Your hands remain stained with their blood, no matter how much you scrub your skin raw in the shower. You hear their screams ring out in your brain at night, piercing the thin veil of fitful sleep that you’ve resigned yourself to after you had lost the warmth of your other half that used to hold you tight at night. Your eyes had lost their brightness, though you can’t say it’s exactly correlated to the loss of the victims. You couldn’t prove Simon right in that aspect. Not after you’ve come this far.

"Anything would be better than this!"

You wanted to believe that so badly, but your heart longed for this career almost as much as it did him. You took pride in those you had saved; albeit still haunted by those you could not. The abilities you had earned your right to were presented proudly through tactical patches displayed on your uniform - chest candy as he would’ve called it. But if he couldn’t support you through this, you didn’t know how to trust him for future endeavours. The lack of apologies simply cemented your decision and mindset.

"Why would somebody do this on purpose?"

It’s a question whose full answer still eludes you to this day. All you know is that you felt homesick for this life before even experiencing it. It’s the ache in your bones and has been carved into your ribs so you may feel the torment and euphoria all at once when your heart slams against the cage that keeps it safe. Contained.

It’s these thoughts that occupy your mind on the plane trip to the infamous compound that houses the 141 Taskforce. Anxiety pierces your nerves, sending what little food you had that morning tumbling around your stomach. Forgetting your meds this morning was likely the worst thing that you could have possibly done. Except for completely ghosting this experience. How odd it is to be haunted by someone still alive. Someone who has no idea if you’re still breathing, let alone travelling to your very location at that moment.

There was no logical reason for you to turn this collaboration down; in fact, in any other circumstances you would be proud of rising so far that you were sent to this facility. Except for the fact that it was this facility. The very one that your ex who has tormented you through night a day for years. You hadn’t spoken a word of his name to anyone after the first month following the breakup. You wanted a life where your friends didn’t even know his name, let alone his significance. He didn’t deserve that. He didn’t deserve to be a part of your life anymore.

You repeat this mantra to yourself as you realise you’re finally landing.

Shit.

That syllable is the only thing bouncing around your head as you’re greeted by John Price. The John Price. Alone, you notice. You had heard bits and pieces of Ghost’s team, but mostly of either Soap’s shenanigans or Price’s rulings over him. You swallow harshly and shake the hand of the powerful Captain. The very same one that had no idea that one of his subordinate’s had been your previous lover. And you planned to keep it that way at all costs.

“Welcome to the base Lieutenant, I’ve heard great things about you and your stealth skills on the battlefield,” Price spoke, shaking your hand firmly.

Lieutenant. You had always loved the sound of that word in front of Simon’s name, and had similarly always wondered how it would sound in front of yours. It brought a sense of satisfaction rushing through your veins, and yet at the same time it brought you to your knees from nausea. It reminded you too much of him.

“There was the callsign ‘Angel’ in the details Laswell sent over. Would you say that still suits you?” Price says, almost amused.

Angel. You had never intended for it to be ever spoken to you again considering its connotations with a nickname Simon had always called you. His little angel. He claimed that you were sent down from the heavens to save the sinners; although, you had never considered him one until the breakup.

How you had gained this callsign is a story that makes you want to shake like a wet dog. Shake the memory off until it vanishes from your grasp. When you were simply doing your job and slowly climbing the ranks through your initial trade training, you had this sergeant that had taken a liking to you. Much to your chagrin. He had started every conversation with the classic pickup line about you falling from heaven. It was pure torment that you had to endure for almost a full year; a year in which the nickname stuck. Nobody was willing to do anything about it, and you weren’t willing to cause a fuss by tattling on your - at the time - superior. It ended up following you out of that academy into your career.

Although, you had quickly earned the added benefit of having ‘Angel of Death’ be your full callsign after you had proven your covert operation skills - effectively wiping out an entire compound by yourself with none the wiser. Safe to say that mission was a success. The name now had something to do with your actual skills instead of your physical appearance and led you to cringe at the honorific less and less.

“I don’t think I’d be able to answer to anything else, Sir,” You answer, wincing at the mention of your callsign nonetheless.

He sends you a questioning look at your small recoil, but brushes it off in favour of moving onto a general tour of the area. It was a sizable facility with many accommodations that made you almost smile with anticipation of taking advantage of all of them. I mean, you even got your own personal shower with your room. Who is going to complain about that?

“So, that’s basically it,” Price finishes up the tour in his office. “I know you already signed off with Laswell on your contract, but just for the record, may I have you sign a few documents here in this folder? Feel free to take your time going through them.”

You overlooked the folder, noticing what little details you had shared throughout your career being asked to be confirmed by your penmanship. It makes you give a shallow smile at the memories you’ve contracted through your experiences. Some less than savoury, but many you wouldn’t give up for the world. You were looking forward to catching up with your friends back at your old base once you were settled in, but until then you scratched pen against paper.

You had finally completed signing on all the lines, getting a little tired at being told ‘here, here, and here’ over and over again. Your eyes burned with exhaustion, not quite realising how much your anxiety had taken out of you. Your hands had a small leftover tremor plaguing them as you handed the pen back to Price, but you felt better. Significantly better.

“I can tell you’re tired, so I’ll lead you to your quarters and let you rest there for tonight,” Price says, sending you a small quirk of his lips.

“Thank you, Captain,” You reply, sending a tired yet appreciative look in his direction.

“Oh, please, call me Price. If you know Kate as well as she says you do, you’ve earned that at the least,” He laughs.

You flush red, letting out a bashful grin at that. It was true that you had run into Kate a few times before realising what a big part she played in your field of work. Most of the time at the coffee shop where you held a part-time job while attending the military academy. However, the time you had sat across from her and her wife after getting stood up really sealed the deal. You being introduced as the ‘person that actually gets our coffee right’ which gave you all a good laugh. They had comforted you once you opened up about why you were at a fancy dinner alone, they welcomed you into their open arms, and that was that. The topic ended up on what you were studying for, and it all came out into the open. The silent conversation those two had with their eyes before opening up had almost made you shit yourself before Kate explained.

You had tried to stay slightly distant after figuring out exactly what she did for a living, but she had shut that down real quick - saying that if anyone had dared to call you a nepo-baby that they wouldn’t live to tell the tale. You really hoped she was exaggerating.

Back in the present, you were letting out a laugh at Price’s words before there was a knock at the door. Your heart dropped to your stomach, making your breath stumble before completely halting. In your heart, you knew who it was before Price even told him to let himself in. The gruff voice saying he didn’t expect Price to have company so late made you feel like a deer in headlights, unable to move as their untimely demise stares them right in the face.

Except this time around, this deer had broken through the freeze reaction long ago. You had learned and adapted, unwilling to relive being frozen as Simon yelled in your face yet again. You couldn’t face the shame quite yet, not unprompted at least.

You quickly turned away from your initial reaction of turning to the door. You mouth goodbye to Price and nod in respect; hoping that he would forgive you for abandoning his office without any notice. You kept your eyes to the floor, feeling his eyes staring holes through you, burning your skin like a bullet wound.

You had changed a lot throughout the years, more so in preparation for being moved here. You weren’t going to turn down this once in a lifetime opportunity just because of a silly disagreement over half a decade ago. You remember staring at a face you barely recognize today while gripping the porcelain off white sink in your shared bathroom. Past you taking actions to change your hair into something that ended up being the new normal. You had taken a page out of Ghost’s book and invested in DIY-ing a personalised mask that resembled a bird with tinted glass shielding your eyes from anyone that could recognize you simply off that. You actually had quite a few - each one for a different occasion.

Nonetheless, the mask you currently wore, its only purpose that you cared about right now was hiding your identity. Simon didn’t immediately react, so you took that as a good sign. You wouldn’t be surprised if he was simply concealing his emotions, but you had a feeling that wasn’t the case. You peruse the halls, not entirely sure how to get to your room. You had a vague idea, but backtracking made it a little more difficult. Especially since you were more concerned with conversing with Price than memorising the exact layout.

You take a turn around a corner, immediately bumping into someone with a familiar face, your eyes betraying your displeasure as you wordlessly stared into the Scots eyes.

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fandom-entertainer · 8 months

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"Sleeping Prank"

Animator vs Animation Fluff Short Story (752 words)

Another usual day on Alan’s desktop.

Blue was making new potions, Red and Ruben occasionally getting in the way and causing a bit of mayhem, Yellow was testing out a new contraption of his, much to Green’s dismay as the test subject. Finally, there was Second.

The orange stickfigure, once an outsider, had found a place alongside the others. All five of them have become near inseparable, almost as though they were family. Who would've guessed?

Seems the stick figure had grown a bit too comfortable though. Second was prone to falling asleep almost anywhere that he deemed comfortable. Whether that be because the others would have parties and raves at three in the morning… as much as it irked Second, he’d become accustomed to it.

Though it left him sleeping in the daytime, this being one of those times. While the others were being their usual energetic selfs, he had fallen asleep on a blue and white beach chair, almost in a deep slumber. Open and vulnerable… this could not end well.

And with four, mischievous siblings like the color gang? It definitely would not end well.

Green, after having dealt with Yellow’s contraption, noticed the unusually deep sleep that Second was in, his snores even louder than usual. He walked over to the orange stick, bending down a bit and beginning to prod at Second’s cheek.

No reaction.

So, Green moved on to patting Second’s head, again, no reaction. By the time Green had gone onto more… aggressive methods, Red had noticed the chaos and looked over at the duo. Once the green stick noticed the youngest brother, he wasted no time in showing him what he had found.

A quick bap on the face and a gasp from Red, the only reaction being a small grunt as Second’s hand now hung over his eyes. Green watched Red as he walked over, along with Yellow who had heard the ruckus. The trio stood over the oldest, still unsure what to do.

Do they wake Second or let him sleep?

Seems that the answer to that question would come sooner, rather than later, as Blue had walked over to them. Red and Yellow caught him up to their newest discovery while Green slipped away.

It wasn't long before he had come back with a pack of markers and shaving cream.

The other’s eyes lit up, wasting no time in grabbing a marker as they began to draw on Second’s face… well, as best as you could on a hollow head.

Red drew a sword right on Second’s cheek while Blue had drawn a swirl on both sides of his face. Yellow measured Second’s head, writing the numbers down in inches. Green had taken a different approach, making a swirl of whipping cream atop Second’s head like a little hat.

Their fun would soon come to an end when they felt Second squirm and yawn, rubbing his face from sleep with his hands. They scattered, some hid and others acted as though they did nothing wrong. That didn't stop the soft giggles and laughs that could occasionally escape them.

Second gave them all weird looks, tilting his head as he stretched, still completely oblivious to what his other brothers had done as he walked past them into their shared home. A few minutes, almost half an hour, passed before their prank came to light.

Second ran back out of the house, his movements frantic and upset as he continuously pointed at the group and his face, especially his face. How did he find out?

…a small mishap with Blue’s cauldron.

Blue grabbed his head, shocked as he ran upstairs to his room. The water that was once in the pot had spilled onto the floor.

Second had gone upstairs to get another refill of water for his stash, catching something peculiar in the reflection of the cauldron before noticing that the odd figure was him!

Everyone had gotten even by the end, well, after Blue and chased Second whilst the orange stickfigure chased the others. No matter how many pranks the gang would play on him, Second could never stay mad at the quartet. They were his family and he cared for them. This prank was all in good fun, he even ended up laughing about it by the end of the day.

This group meant a lot to him. He knew that they cared about him just as much as he did and, in the end, isn't that all that matters?

If you liked this one-shot, feel free to check my Carrd! I'm open for commissions! Hope you liked reading this and have a wonderful day!

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sasukesun · 5 months

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Are you the strongest because you are gojo satoru or are you gojo saturo because you are the strongest? I never understood why geto said that to gojo, can you explain to me? Did he want to give gojo a reality check?

getou is frustrated and questioning gojou’s identity here. the idea behind this quote is basically “did you become the strongest because of the person you are or is it the person you are that made you the strongest?”, is there a power bestowed upon gojou outside of his control that makes him the strongest or did gojou willingly choose to become the strongest? it’s a matter if gojou has autonomy or not, if he is defined by his strength or not. and it’s quite painful of getou to say that, because he was the only one to treat gojou by “satoru”, to bring him down to earth, while everybody only admired him and put him in a pedestal. it’s betrayal in a way and it’s ironic how getou calls on gojou’s arrogance in this moment, when gojou genuinely wanted to understand what was going on. but again, getou was depressed and frustrated.

you have to understand that getou wasn’t only affected by riko’s death itself, or how he experienced firsthand the “ugliness” of humanity, but also because he wasn’t able to do anything when it happened. at the beach we see him worried about gojou exhausting himself by sleep deprivation and letting infinity on nonstop, at the doors of jujutsu school we see getou thanking gojou for his hard work, at tengen’s barrier we see getou watching riko die right in front of him, we see toji saying he killed gojou and then at the cult we see gojou telling him “you’re late, suguru”. getou not only had to deal with the inability to save riko, but he spent at least some time having to deal with gojou’s death, with the guilt and grief of it, until he found out that gojou learned how to use reverse cursed technique and wasn’t actually dead. but imagine the trauma and helplessness he felt. getou joins the jujutsu world in high school and the special grade title is already assigned to him, he is put in a position of “the strongest” with and by the boy that, unlike him, was born in this world and whose birth changed its balance. it’s obvious where gojou’s arrogance came from, but getou’s isn’t hard to see either, he must have felt special, and still, even with all of that, he wasn’t able to save riko (or gojou) or kill toji, who wasn’t even a sorcerer (mind you that getou had a kind of “paternalistic” prejudice against non sorcerers, but it was toji that used the word “monkey” the first time in the manga).

getou’s depression has a lot of layers, a lot of reasons and both the manga and anime had great ways to portray that.

gojou got toji’s blessing, getou got toji’s curse, literally and figuratively. gojou was able to get his enlightenment because of toji, throughout heaven and earth, i alone am the honoured one. getou got from toji the idea that humans were “monkeys”.

gojou’s lightness vs getou’s heaviness.

red repels, blue pulls in. gojou distances himself from the world, quite literally as well since his perfected infinity makes him untouchable. getou shuts down and is eaten from the inside, plus his technique is about absorbing and curses are human’s negative emotions, he literally swallows the worst of humanity to keep them safe.

and it’s quite interesting how after gojou becomes the strongest, the curses get stronger too, and they both are sent on missions by themselves, so getou ingests stronger curses, he essentially gets stronger, but he still feels left behind and isolated, because there is still a distance between him and gojou, because he wasn’t able to move on from what happened, because he was at the top and yet couldn’t do anything, because, because, because.

(that’s why i said in another ask that when i see gojou talking about loneliness, about his desire of no one to be alone again, i don’t think he is only referring to himself, but to getou too).

but yeah, that’s just me explaining one layer of getou’s depression and where his asshole move on gojou came from.

#ask #anonymous #jjk asks

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frostythefrostedfox · 8 months

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Sonic was idly tapping his foot as he stood by a glass table with an ominous bottle filled with a strange liquid, labelled "Drink me"

"Should I?..." He asks to himself as he ponders his options, and so far they are not many, that small door in front of him isn't going to open by itself, the other doors are locked and the only answer seems to be the bottle

"One more try wouldn't hurt, right?" He thought to himself before going door by door again, locked door after locked door until one of them creaked, it was unlocked. Finally something, did he missed this door when he was checking them before? Maybe, there are so many that is almost impossible to keep track of which ones he tried and which ones he didn't.

Taking a peek inside the door and it was nothing but darkness, pure straight up darkness, although the inside of the room smelled like sea breeze and it felt warm; Sonic leaned against the door to take a sniff out of it a couple times, if his eyes weren't able to guide him, maybe his nose would, and so he dared to take a step inside... And inmediately fall into an endless pit of void, nothingness and darkness.

The blue hedgehog just snored as he slept peacefully by the shore.

Eventually some water goes up Sonic's nose and wakes him up from his slumber

"Man, that sure was a crazy..." He paused mid sentence as he looked around, he thought he had woken up from his previous 'dream', the one about that crazy hallways he was in, but this wasn't the place he fell asleep at, he was holding a book and he was in a tree by Tails' workshop, but now he had no book, this wasn't a tree and Tails certainly doesn't lives by a beach.

He quickly stands up and tries to collect himself "I.. Uh... What?"

Sonic starts to wander around the small island he is at, starting by walking straight forward, a bunch of trees could be seen in the distance so maybe someone lived nearby?

Eventually his walk became a stroll and then it became a full speed run, but the trees never seemed to come closer, he could tell he was getting farther from the beach, but he kept running on sand, as if the trees were moving away from him at the same speed he was running towards them, he suddenly stopped and decided to run the opposite way, as a way to make sure it wasn't his mind playing tricks on him.

After a couple seconds he found himself by the same patch of beach that he had waken up at, it still had some of his figure imprint on the sand and everything. How was that possible? He was running for at least five minutes, how come he never got far from the beach? He was running in a straigt line, he should be miles away of the beach by now.

Sonic scratched his head, this place sure was weird, maybe he would have better luck exploring the shoreline, which he did.

It wasn't long until he found what seems to be a wrecked ship, but there weren't any other ships around, it doesn't even seems like there was anyone living on this island, so why would a ship come this close to land? Maybe it was drifted ashore from somewhere else?

Sonic decided to get closer to the wreckage to investigate a bit, maybe he would find something useful, or at least a clue to where he is now and how to get back if it wasn't too much to ask.

"Huh? Is that... elevator music?" He wondered as he peeked inside the ship's remains, not only that but he also caught glimpses of different types of poolwear and pool related equipment, like a noodle floater and some swimming goggles "What is all of that doing here? And where is the music coming from" He continued to ponder, and before long his own curiosity got the best of him and he decided to investigate further by getting inside the ship's wooden body.

He took a foot inside, lowered his head so he wouldn't hit it with the top and then put the other foot inside; the insides of the ship were filled with pool related paraphernalia... Towels, swimming caps, goggles, different animal floaters... Was someone using the wreckage as a storage unit? And more importantly, where was that music coming from.

Sonic continued to investigate the ship, looking for the source of the music, after venturing deep into the hull, he found himself in complete darkness again, he tried to turn back to where he came from, but after taking a couple steps he found himself... elsewhere?

What?

"How did the... It was... What?" Sonic turned around himself a couple times as he scratches his head, he leans against a wall so he can try and retrace his steps.

"Okay so... I fell thru that door... Then i was at that beach, I found the ship, I got inside and when i tried to get out I came out thru a door... What?" Sonic said out loud, trying to make sense of the whole trip he just had in less than an hour, he turned his head to the right, where the door he walked out of was still open, just adding more to his confusion.

The blue hedgehog walked around the place for a little bit, all he could see on the windows was a light shade of red and orange, a sunset, which was a different time than when he was at the beach, as things were far darker in there... Did he really spent that much time "Travelling" or was time flowing backwards here?.

He continued to explore the place he found himself in, he could still hear the music he heard inside the ship, expcet now it was crisp and clear, or at least as clear as those cheap speakers hanging from the corners of the room could make it, in front of him was a pool, lit by lights so he could see the bottom; he certainly wasn't a fan of pools or other deep bodies of water but after all he had been thru, he could just take his shoes off and sit by it.

And so he did, he took his shoes off and left them where they wouldn't get wet before sitting by the edge of the pool, looking down at it as he did so, he wasn't sure if the pool really was THAT deep or it was his mind making it seem so... Everything just looks huge when you're 3 feet tall; so he decided to get a grip of the metal ladder that you usually use to get in and out of the pool, he took a deep breath as he dipped his feet inside the water, which was surprisingly warmer than he expected it to be, maybe inside pools weren't as bad as he originally though, as scarily deep as they could be.

He let his entire body relax, even closed his eyes for a bit, taking a small nap.

After waking up he got up from his seat and went to look for a towel but after a couple steps on the floor he realized that his feet weren't wet, he didn't even left a single drop on the ground after getting off the pool, this place sure was strange.

Sonic shrugged, at this point this was the most normal thing he had found so far, he grabbed his shoes and wore them again so he could continue his "adventure", if it could even be called that.

The hedgehog walks thru that open door that has been ominously open this entire time, but instead of going back where he came from, the ship, he walks inside a hotel hallway, filled with sounds of people walking and moving around, sure it was a busy hotel, or at least it sounded like one, because he couldn't see a single soul, he was alone there

"Oh great, another hallway... Funny, really funny" He said as he kept wallking around, except that this time he found a door open to his left, which he promptly entered.

A bar?

"This is interesting..." Sonic thought to himself as he walked around the place, the place still sounded busy, the clicking of glasses, the steps of shoes on the floor, the moving of chairs, the leather stretching as people sits down and stands...

He looks around the room to find the same speakers as in the pool, but they are playing a completely different song than before, he gets closer to one of the corners so he can listen to it a lot better

"Huh... I have heard that song before somewhere... What was it..." He continued to think of the name of the song, Sonic is 99.99% sure he had heard this song before, but he can't point a finger where, but it just sounds so familiar. He takes a seat in the bar as he thinks about it, he doesn't his eyes from the speaker for a second as he does so "Eyes... Eyes something... Ugh..."

Eventually his thinking is interrupted by the sound of a glass being put on his table "Huh?" He reacted as he looks around the room, who brought this to him? There was nobody but him there, he continued to hear steps around, but that was just ambience music right? It wasn't like there was invisible people all walking around him, right... Right?

Sonic looked at the contents of the drink for a solid minute before taking the glass on his hand and shaking it a little, it looks like a normal drink except it is dark brown, it looked like whiskey, although he discarded that option as soon as he smelled it, it didn't smelled like alcohol or anything of the sorts, it smelled sweet, like cake, but also a bit roasted, like turkey.

The hedgehog took a deep breath and closed his eyes before taking the entire contents of the glass in a single chug, he almost spitted it back but managed to swallow the entirety of it, it certainly didn't tasted like it smelled, not like that was a bad thing, but it certainly caught him off guard.

"Toasted almonds? That's and odd flavour fo---" Eventually it clicked inside him, he looked back at the speaker "Goodbye Almond Eyes, that's the song, but I don't remember it sounding like that..." He said.

Why would that song be playing in a place like this? Sure it was a good song but not exactly a popular one, and this version is even less known...

Eventually the sounds of the bar started to die down, the walking became more sparse and the clicking of the glasses did as well, Sonic understood that was his cue to leave the bar, as if the place was giving him a warning of sorts that he shouldn't stay longer than intended on any given location.

He simply stood from his chair, looked at the empty glass once again "Interesting flavour..." He repeated before walking towards the same door he came in, and just like the other times, he found himself in a different place, but this one he had been in before, it was the same hallway that he was originally in. Was this just a trick of this weird place he found himself in? Was that just something he imagined? Did he just fell asleep as he was thinking about how to proceed?

Only one thing was clear

Something inside him was reassuring him that drinking that ominous "Drink me" bottle wouldn't bring him any harm.

And so he did.

Wonderland Sonic belongs to @kittydoremi

#sonic the hedgehog #sonic #3d #3dtumblr #sth #sonic au #sonic alice in wonderland #fanfic #writing

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yeehawbvby · 2 years

Text

Falling Away With You | Ch. 15*

Sebastian x F!Reader and M. Rasmodius x F!Reader

Rating: Mature/Explicit

Chapter Summary: You finally meet Leah!! Also, IT'S CLOBBERIN' TIME. (picture some fireworks, maybe some sick guitar riff blaring, party streamers, maybe some confetti...)

Author’s Note: Word count go BRRRRRRRRRR. (almost 7k!!!)

Table of Contents + Work Summary

Check it out on ao3!

Prev | Next

I finally finished the farm’s “blueprints,” after several weeks of trying and failing to get ‘em done. Didn’t get to try growing those parsnips — definitely will next spring — but I can at least get some corn or something to experiment with. Probably gonna be a lot of trial and error, with the severe lack of farming experience that I have. I just have to clear a few more trees before I feel confident that debris won’t fall onto and ruin the crops.

It’s still early in the day, and I really don’t want to get back to chopping yet. I could just hire Robin to give me a hand with that, no? I’m sure if I let her keep the wood, she’d help. Maybe.

Either way, I’m gonna procrastinate by going exploring today.

I’ve only ever been up to the mountains and into the main parts of town, so I have no idea what the woods past Marnie’s ranch are like other than the path that led us all to the Flower Dance.

After gearing up accordingly, I trek south, ready for adventure... or something. I doubt it’ll be that eventful, but let me dream, damnit!

Once I pass Marnie’s farm, I notice another home hidden between some trees and bushes. It’s a cute, small cabin, just like the ones you see in fairy tales. There’s a small vegetable garden next to it, and a basket of berries sitting near the river just ahead, alongside a sketchpad and a blanket. Those look like the type of fruits that can be found around the town — whoever lives there must’ve foraged them themself. I’m super curious about its resident(s), but don’t wanna be a creep by waiting around until they come back.

I weave my way through the trees to the right of the river, and spot a tower atop the hill. Despite its immense height, it’s well hidden by the foliage of the area.

It’s got medieval vibes, and it’s kinda creepy, but in the best way. It’s made of mossy stone, covered in vines and cracks that indicate old age, and there are some tiny white flowers growing through the crevices. I’m too much of a baby to go investigate that alone, at least for now… but something feels familiar about it. I have to quite literally urge my body in the opposite direction, to avoid making a beeline into possible danger.

Walking further south, I find out that this whole area is placed on the edge of the cliff. Below it is a long-unused beach, unfortunately covered in littered garbage. I wonder if it connects to the community beach… kinda hard to tell from up here. Maybe I’ll clean it up a bit if I can figure out how to get down there. I plop myself at the edge of the land, opting to take a small water break and bask in the scenery.

God it is so fucking hot outside.

I peer around, and the only other noticeable features near me are an abandoned yellow house, and a real chunky tanuki, minding his own business by the entrance to the sewers. Fucking hell, I’ve never seen one of those around here.

We lock eyes, and although I should be scared, I give the big guy a smile. Animals are friends. If I die being mauled by a tanuki, I guess that’s ok. There are worse ways to go, right?

Fortunately, he doesn’t approach me. He simply goes back to munching on whatever he’s holding. I squint to get a better look — Is that… a whole platter of pepper poppers? I understand that it coulda been rummaged from a garbage, but like, how did he find a plate?

He’s looking off to the Gem Sea, content as ever, so I mirror his actions, my gaze eventually trailing up to the clouds. Nothing dark, which is a change of pace from the weather lately, but it’s no clear skies either.

I didn’t take my phone with me, in an attempt to ~be one with nature~ or whatever, but I forgot how bored I get with my own thoughts. At least when I wasn’t on meds for my mental health, I'd had something going on in this thick skull of mine. Usually sad, because obviously, but still. Blah blah blah, rather feel pain than not feel anything, etcetera.

As if Yoba themself heard my subconscious complaints, I hear a small “hello?” coming from behind me. When I turn around, I see no other than the friggin’ goddess Leah herself. She’s so fucking pretty. Her cropped tee fits her just right, and her overalls and boots just look so natural on her… like she belongs in some cute farmwear of sorts.

Oh my god, please stay cool, (y/n).

I shake my head a bit once I realized I zoned out on her — the faint blush, lopsided smile, and furrowed brows being an indicator that she caught me simping — before shyly waving back to her.

“Leah, right?”

“Mhm,” she proudly hums. “It’s about time we had a chance to properly meet!”

Her voice is like honey: thick and smooth and soothing, yet with a light rasp, as though her words are being crystallized by her vocal chords.

“I’ve been meaning to say hi, but never really had the chance,” I admit, sheepishly rubbing the back of my neck.

Once she’s closer, I pat the ground next to me with a subtle eyebrow wiggle, hoping my invitation to hang around is clear. She grins and obliges, placing the basket of herbs she was holding on the dirt beside her.

“No worries. I’m sure taking over that old farm has been pretty hectic for you.”

“Tell me about it,” I groan. “I’ve been working so hard, yet I’ve barely scratched the surface of what needs to be done.”

“God, I feel that.”

“Oh yeah? What do you do?”

“I’m an artist,” Leah responds. She almost looks embarrassed to say it. “Not a successful one, but I’m scraping by.”

“That’s sick, though! I’d love to see your stuff.”

“It has its perks, but ‘starving artists’ are the stereotype for a reason,” she says, shrugging. After a beat she goes, “Y-you wanna come take a look at some of my work? My house isn’t far. I’m sure you passed it on the way down here.”

“Hell yeah, let’s do it!” I think to myself how obvious it is now that the super aesthetic cottage I’d passed is hers. It’s so fitting for her. While getting up, I spot the tanuki from the corner of my eye. “Do you know what’s up with that fella over there?”

“Oh, he is great.” Her eyes sparkle as she continues, “I came across him while foraging last spring, when I first got here. He was still small, so I practically raised him from then on, with Marnie’s help of course. You probably know how she gets with animals.”

I nod when she looks to me for confirmation. I’ve been hearing a faint sound of something tumbling along the ground since we started walking, and I just noticed now that it was a stone Leah’s been kicking along.

“He’s a friendly lad,” Leah beams, “I named him Tony! Tony the Trash Bear.”

I laugh at the name, “I get the trash bear part, but why Tony?”

She shrugs. “I just think he looks like a Tony. Doesn’t he look like a Tony?”

Eyeballing him, I see exactly what she means. “Totally looks like a Tony.”

“Thank you!” She rolls her eyes, “My friend Elliot thought he looked more like a Remington.”

“That’s so… proper.”

“Too proper.”

“Far too proper... But, a good middle name, maybe?”

Leah beams. “Oh my god, you’re so right!”

She surely seems strong and confident, but has a clear softer and more nerdy – maybe even nervous? – side that’s absolutely adorable to discover. I wonder if she’s just like this with strangers. Maybe some more self-assurance comes once she gets to know a person. Or, maybe she’s just great at presenting herself to be a fearless, rustic queen. Maybe I’ll find out the truth someday…

For fuck’s sake. I sound like an alien trying to discover how humans work for the first time.

Getting to Leah’s house from our spot took less time than I’d expected, being that she guided me through a bit of a shortcut I hadn’t noticed earlier: A bunch of wooden platforms strung across the small islands within the river, supposedly put there by Robin. When we arrive at the destination, Leah scoops up the berries, book and blanket in her front yard, bringing them indoors with us.

Upon stepping inside her abode, I’m wafted with the scent of freshly cut timber, and what smells like a soup. God, I’m hungry.

There’s crumpled papers and splatters of various colored paints littering the wooden floorboards, and her walls are lined with both finished and unfinished paintings. Off-centered to the west side of the room is a wooden figure of sorts that stands about as tall as Leah is. The whole place is exactly how you’d expect an artist in the middle of a forest’s cottage to look.

“Sorry about the mess,” she apologizes, “It’s hard to keep a studio tidy when it’s this small.”

“Don’t worry about it! It’s cozy in here.”

I want to ask what she’s cooking, but don’t want to intrude too much — luckily, she heads to the right, waving me to follow along into the small kitchen. Leah turns on the sink to rinse dirt off the herbs she had with her, opens a slow cooker, and begins plucking, ripping and crumbling some leaves into the mixture below her.

“My mom mailed me her old Crock Pot the other day, and it is so rad. Have you ever used one of these things?”

I nod eagerly. “I miss having mine so much. I sold it before coming here so I’d have less transport, but when I was in Zuzu, I’d leave it running while I was at work almost every day.”

“It’s so good for that sort of thing!” she replies. Such a mundane adult topic, being hyped over kitchen appliances… but she’s gleaming with an infectious, childlike excitement. “I didn’t realize you were from the city too. I moved here from there about…” she thinks for a short moment, before it dawns on her, “A year ago this month, actually!”

“Oh, seriously? Which area?”

She grinds some black pepper in as she answers, “My ex and I rented a place together Uptown. It was a bit too bustling for me, but she was covering most of our rent, so I shouldn’t complain.”

“No, I totally get you. My office was there, it felt like a fucking war zone coming and going.” I roll my eyes as she knowingly chuckles.

We continue to reminisce on our crappy times in the city as Leah adds some new spices to her food and gets started on cleanup. She didn’t always live in the city, having moved there from East Scarp in her late teens for art school. Missed the countryside the whole time she was gone, which makes total sense. I could never see her as a city gal.

Leah grabs a clean spoon from a nearby drawer and dips it into her concoction, giving it a taste. She moans at the flavor, naturally bringing a blush to my face. She still hasn’t looked up, and is dipping her spoon back down for more, so I don’t think she’ll notice it — that is, until I’m met with the spoon coming towards me, and an excited “You absolutely have to try this! Are you allergic to anything?”

I’ve gotten better with people since moving to the valley, but my timid habits still creep through sometimes. The idea of some really cool and pretty lady who I barely know, reaching out to try and feed me, is bringing out those old jitters.

I shyly shake my head “no” and take the spoon from her, hoping she doesn’t mind that I rejected her more… direct approach. Holy moly this stuff is good. I don’t even notice the heat on my cheeks anymore as I melt away alongside the spices, veggies, and legumes in my mouth, accidentally mirroring Leah’s earlier reaction.

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” she winks, taking back the utensil. I slowly, firmly nod my response.

If she saw me blush, she does me a favor by not commenting on it. I notice some red on her cheeks too, but chalk it up to the heat from standing over the hot stew.

“I’ve been trying to perfect this recipe all week, I think I’ve finally got it down.” I nod in agreement, she lowers the device to a lighter simmer, and she directs me into the other room.

“C’mon, I’ll show ya some of what ya came here for.” Leah carries herself towards the wooden sculpture, giving it a hearty pat when she arrives. “Honestly, I’m in kind of a rut. This is all I’m doing at the moment… It’s not much, but it’s getting there.”

Closing the gap between myself and the sculpture, I reach up a hand and look towards Leah, seeking permission to touch the art. After a sparkly-eyed look of appreciation and nod from her, I run my fingers along the grain, amazed at how smoothly she’s carved each bend in the piece.

The wood’s been stripped in most spots, leaving its age visible to all. The divots and rings within the lumber tell a story as old as time, one that no human can quite understand. I can’t really understand the form she’s carved out either — it’s a bit abstract — but I’m sure there’s more meaning to it than what meets the eye.

“It’s beautiful,” I mutter. Smiling in her direction, I’m met with her gaze, paired by a gigantic grin plastered across her face.

“I’m glad you think so,” she admits, “I was starting to lose hope on this damn thing. My ex was never too supportive of my art, and nobody out here really gets it either, so it’s nice to— shit I’m sorry, I don’t know why I’m rambling.” She laughs, but refuses to meet my eyes.

“You could, like, hold an art show or something,” I suggest. “I’m sure the locals would be more supportive if they could see more of your stuff.”

Leah looks at her sculpture, seemingly in thought. “That might not be a bad idea…”

With a little more encouragement, Leah decides to go and talk to Lewis about the concept right away — “Before I chicken out,” she declared. First, she packs up a small tupperware of her stew, and insists I take it.

_________________

I shamelessly whip out a spoon from my kitchen and dig into Leah’s cooking as soon as I enter my farmhouse. I grab my phone off its charger and take a seat on the bed, right next to Cannoli, who’s sound asleep. I’d planned on scrolling through social media for a bit, still not really being in the mood to be productive.

Fortunately, it seems I’ll be having more exciting plans, as long as I’m not too late!

Sebastian > yo

Sebastian > Victor’s on his way to visit, and we were planning on playing some Solarian Chronicles but Sam isn’t around to be our 3rd

Sebastian > you in?

He sent that over an hour ago. I wouldn’t blame him for not waiting up.

< sorry, just saw that

< what time?

Sebastian > be here at 3ish?

< okヽ(´▽｀)/

I have this binder full of OC’s that I’ve designed over the years. Started it when I was, like, 12, and I’ve kept it going ever since. I dig it out of the box it was in, underneath my bed — it’s just filled with miscellaneous shit that I couldn’t really store anywhere else — hoping I have some for Solarian that aren’t too embarrassing.

I flip through, and pick out one character sheet for each class, just in case. I usually like being a healer, but I don’t want to step on anyone’s toes.

I opt to head out with more than enough time to spare, making up for that by taking the long way to Seb’s house. If I go into town and up past the community center, I’ll have some new scenery to look at instead of the usual forest around me.

When I get to Seb’s, Robin isn’t around, but Maru makes eye contact with me from her lab. She’s a nice girl, but way too smart for easy conversation. I give a quick wave in response to her’s, and escape right down to the basement.

It sounds quiet… too quiet. Maybe that Victor guy isn’t here yet.

I knock, ya know, as one does.

And almost immediately, Seb opens the door and quite literally pulls me inside, prompting a squeak.

After quickly shoving the door shut behind us, he nudges me back against it and hungrily chases after my lips. This is super unexpected, but I happily go along with it. I’d very obviously be lying if I said I wasn’t enjoying the hell out of this.

The only noises in the room are our heavy, uneven breathing, and the sound of our lips smacking together. When his tongue swirls around mine, I feel like I could fucking faint. Yoba, I’m already worked up. I take his face in my palms and push back a little, desperately needing oxygen.

“Hi,” I laugh.

“Hey,” he lilts, sounding completely unaffected. That bastard.

We stand there for a sec, our eyes roaming the other’s face as we both catch our breath. I giggle, he smirks, and I throw my belongings onto the couch, not wanting to lose sight of the view. I reach my face back up to his to close the gap once more — the only acceptable time to not be looking at the beautiful man in front of me.

His hands roam down to the outsides of my lower thighs, and he cups and squeezes around them, hinting for me to jump. I oblige, and wrap his legs around his torso while he repositions into a better grip, pressing my back against the door with his whole body.

“Vic’s train doesn’t get here ‘til like 4,” he utters between kisses, “I hope y’don’t mind.”

I smile against him, “Felt greedy for my time, huh?”

“Well,” his lips trail down to my neck. “You’ve been harder to resist with every passing day.” He bites lightly, earning a moan in response. I feel him smile against my skin, before kissing it better and lifting his head to meet my eyes. “So if you don’t mind, (y/n),” he kisses the corner of my mouth before pulling back again. “I want to feel, and kiss, and taste every single inch of you while we finally have the time.”

Shit, I think to myself, feeling goosebumps coat my body. I just know I either look like I’m in shock, or like I’m about to unravel from his words alone. Maybe both? Fuck, the basement feels hot today.

“Please,” Seb adds. He grins, widely, his beautiful eyes glimmering with innocent hope.

Completely contradictory to the matter at hand.

I chuckle and shake my head, blushing madly, and rub my thumbs across his cheeks. “Such a gentleman.”

“Is that a yes?”

“Impatient, too,” I tease.

He rolls his eyes and dips back down to my lips, kissing me roughly for a few moments.

“I refuse to take this any further…” He lightly wraps a hand around my neck, lips brushing mine as he speaks. I tighten my thighs around him to help hold myself up. “…until I know that you want this.”

Seb presses his forehead to my own, his eyes boring into mine as he closes his hand just a bit more. I mewl softly at the sensation, closing my eyes to prevent any further embarrassment from creeping up on me.

“Seb, please.” God, I sound like such a loser.

I lower one of my hands from around his shoulders and clasp the wrist that he's holding to my neck, using it to push more of his weight onto myself. I open my eyes, but they only trail as high as his mouth — the smirk he’s wearing is enough to indicate that I can’t do eye contact right now. No way in hell.

“Please what?” He feigns innocence as he eeever so slightly grinds against me. I shudder out a weak breath.

Then, I groan, frustrated, and struggling to formulate full sentences apparently.

“Just fuck me already,” I whimper, forcing myself to meet his eyes.

“Naughty little thing,” he smugly stabs before rushing back to my lips. I don’t mourn the lost opportunity of a jab back at him. There are more important things to be doing right now.

Without separating our kiss, his hand moves from the front of my neck to the back of my head as he carries me away from the door. When we get to his bed, he lets us fall together to the mattress, his body still slotted between my legs.

Seb pins my hands above me to absolutely ravage my neck and collarbone in love bites without interruption. My right mind is telling me to make him stop, so that I don’t have to waste as much makeup covering it up. The adrenaline coursing through me and heat spreading to my lower body are screaming at me to let him keep going though.

I mentally thank myself for wearing a skirt today as he releases my wrists and hikes it up, allowing himself access to my panties. They’re plain — just some black cotton with white stitching along the edges — but at least they’re not ugly.

Without removing my underwear, Seb slips his fingers under the part of the waistband that’s hugging my hips. I think he’s just testing the waters, until he roughly grips a fistful of my soft flesh in each hand, kneading my sides. I instinctively follow his touch, rutting my hips against him, only stopping when he forcefully holds them down.

“Nuh-uh,” he sings.

“You’re no fun,” I rebuttal.

As if out of spite, he scoots back and tugs me towards the edge of the bed. He then moves his dominant hand from my hip and pushes my panties aside.

“Yeah?” he questions, lightly grazing my clit, and then way too easily sliding a finger inside of me. My eyes roll back at the sensation as I choke down a moan. “Looks to me like you’re having a blast.”

“D-don’t ruin this, nerd,” I pathetically stutter out.

By the time our mouths have met again, he’s already sliding in a second finger. “Fuck,” I breathe out. He’s driving me completely insane. I whisper and curse Seb’s name against his lips, my eyes screwed shut.

“Doesn’t sound like I’m ruining anything.”

As I lose myself in bliss, he lowers himself down to directly face my core. His breath on my inner thigh is the only indicator that slaps me into reality again.

I look down through dazed eyelids, watching the hand that was holding me down stray to my thigh, and eventually out of view. In the process, Seb continues working his magic, peppering open-mouthed kisses everywhere but where I want him. His fingers are still pumping away in me, although they’re stuttering a bit now.

The next thing to rush my senses is the sound of Seb’s belt unclasping and his zipper being undone. Feeling flushed with embarrassment, but also like I’m going to melt into a puddle on his sheets if I keep watching, I lay down fully and cover my face with my arm. As if to reel my attention back to him, Seb finally puts his mouth to use. He slowly — so painfully slowly — swipes his tongue from my entrance to my nub, eliciting a guttural whine from my fucking soul that’s only muffled by my arm.

As his tongue dances around me, he satisfactorily hums. The occasional purr as he studies my reactions reverberates through my body, making it harder to maintain a… decent? composure as he works his fingers into my sweet spot. I need him badly, but when I try to tell him that it comes out a jumbled mess.

“I, fuck, I nee—,” I desperately try to plea for what I’m craving as I lean onto my elbows. “Sebash— ahh, fuck!”

Seb knows exactly what I want, and I can tell by the heated, smug gaze he’s boring into me. Everything about this is so hot. His absurdly beautiful face between my legs is possibly the greatest thing I’ll ever lay my eyes on. A genuine work of art.

He chuckles against me, and I notice that the other hand still isn’t in sight, but it’s definitely moving. ..

Holy shit, he’s touching himself while touching me, isn’t he?

That’s so cool!

I try to ground myself by weaving a fist into his hair, originally planning on pulling him away so I could use my words. To tell him how badly I want him to just stuff the cock he’s touching inside of me until I can’t think straight. But, the slight moment of added pressure sends a chill down my spine that I can’t resist, and I press him down harder, trying to make as close contact with Seb’s fingers and mouth as I possibly can.

Subconsciously grinding my hips onto him, I grip the sheet with my free hand and let my head and eyes roll back while my spine arches, my little death hitting me like a fucking train. I’m not sure what nonsense I’m sputtering, but it’s enough to signal him to finish the job. On the come down, I simply lay limp. Breathing heavily. Having just had the best orgasm of my life, courtesy of the sexiest person I’ve ever met in my life.

With a cute, swift kiss to the lips he’s been tending to, he comes back up to meet my face, kissing those lips too. God… I’ll never get tired of all the kissing we do, no doubt. But there’s something far more exciting about tasting myself in a kiss from someone who I’m this head over heels for.

I assume his dick is out, so I trail my dominant hand down from his neck to his covered chest, and finally to his exposed groin. He just barely pulls away from the kiss, his smile ghosting just above my lips.

I still have yet to see him without pants on, so I had no idea how groomed or un-groomed he is down there. Feels smooth, but a little prickly in some spots. Must’ve been a rushed shave, or maybe a day-old one. Or maybe he just needs a new razor. I don’t go for the gold yet, just teasing my fingers around the general area first.

“Fuck, dude,” he laughs. Sounds breathy. Good.

“What’s up?”

“Don’t play dumb,” he playfully commands. “Tease…”

I look down between us, curiosity getting the best of me. For fucks sake he is huge. Long? Sure, but I already knew that from the picture he sent me. But Yoba, he’s packing width-wise too.

Without clasping my hand around him just yet, I softly touch around the base, right where it connects to his body. I can’t help but admire him, the whole damn thing is as pretty as he is. That’s definitely a rare find: an attractive dick.

I must’ve gasped audibly, or stared too long, or done something embarrassing, because Seb softly and menacingly sings my name to grab my attention back. Feeling myself blush, I meet his eyes. I wrap my hand around him, fingertips just barely out of reach of one another, holy shit. Is he even going to fit? He inhales sharply through swollen lips.

A stupid thought comes to mind. “Heheh.”

“Hm?” he questions, sucking in his bottom lip.

“I get why you’re so cocky now.” I’m hilarious.

“Wow, I hated that.” Booooo.

“Oh, you know I’m funny.”

I remove my hand to gather some of the wetness from myself, utilizing it to glide my fist along Seb’s shaft more smoothly. I’m tempted to look down again, wanting to see what my hand looks like wrapped around him, but my eyes don’t dare to leave his face.

His cheeks have been tickled pink by my touch, his pupils are blown wide, I can feel the unevenness of his breath against my lips. I’m totally bewitched. I find the sensitive vein just below his tip and lightly rub my thumb against it, and Seb hums with pleasure in response. Holy shit he’s so hot.

I nudge his shoulders a bit, prompting him to lay down, which he quickly obliges to. I’m about to lean down to return the favor he gave me a few moments ago, but he pulls me atop him instead.

The moment I’m straddling him, Seb begins lifting my skirt off of me. I let him, taking my top off just after. His hands wander from my hips-upward, eventually stopping just outside of my boobs.

Before he can get permission to feel — which would be redundant because of fucking course he can, he can touch me in any way he wants at this point — I remove my bra. I don’t have the nads to make eye contact, being more exposed to him than I’ve ever been, but I coax his hands to my breasts, yearning to know what his hands feel like around them.

Seb takes the back of my neck in one hand and pulls me down, forcing me to look him in the eyes as he kneads me. I kiss him hard to overpower my nerves, and because I’m just desperate for more of him. He goes right for my nipples in response, pinching and twirling them between his fingertips. I know some people don’t have much feeling in that region, and I thank Yoba above that I wasn’t cursed in such a way, because this feels so fucking good.

I grind my clothed core against his cock, teasingly humming, and studying his reaction beneath lazy eyelids. He tilts his head back, whispers a curse, and halts my hips again.

“Take those off,” he orders.

Without leaving my spot, I follow Seb’s instructions, finagling my underwear out of the way. It’s far less than graceful, but I don’t care. Once I’m fully undressed, I don’t fully lower myself straight away. I tug at the waistband of his pants and boxers instead. He’s exposed, but I want to see all of him.

“You too.”

“Yes ma’am.”

He — also ungracefully, might I add — kicks off his bottoms, as I help him remove his tee. I trace the barely-there abs on his tummy with my fingers while I hover over him. I wonder if he works out when he’s not coding or whatever. Oo! He doesn’t have any new scars, at least that I can see, which I smile at.

“So fucking beautiful,” he mutters, snapping me out of my trance and sliding his hands up and down my form.

I’m flustered by the sudden attention put on me. Seb practically worshiping my body is making me painfully aware that I, in fact, exist. I don’t really know how to respond, and my innate reaction is to laugh nervously and turn my head to the side. As if that’ll hide me and my bare body adequately. I see Seb tilt his head a little from the corner of my eye.

“I mean it, (y/n),” he whispers, gently pulling my upper body down onto him, our faces just barely separated.

“You,” he removes a hand, and I feel him rub his tip against my cunt. I whimper at the contact, still overly sensitive from before.

“Are so,” he nudges himself just barely inside of me, forcing a deep breath from us both.

“Perfect,” he shakily growls, as he lowers my hips down onto him. Slow enough that I can adjust to his size, but not too slow.

Mother of Yoba.

I’m shocked he fit inside in one snug squeeze, but I couldn’t be more satisfied with it. I ride him slowly for the first few pumps, getting myself familiar with what I’m working with here. Then halfway back down, I stop moving, feeling my hips tighten. Fuck, already? I subconsciously grimace as I continue stuttering my way down.

“Everything ok?” Seb asks in a hushed tone.

“Yeah. Uh, I’m actually not like…” I take a sec to think of the best words for this. “Super… mobile when it comes to this.” I stuff my face in the crook of his neck to hide my shame. I can’t believe a ridiculously sexy guy is inside of me, and I can’t even throw it back for him. Feels like such a wasted opportunity…

Plus, he’s fucking laughing. Yoba kill me now.

“Fuck you,” I mumble into him.

“Already working on that,” he chuckles. I’m fully lowered now, doing nothing more than cockwarming at this point, but I’m too nervous to move again. “Hey.”

I groan in response. I feel his hands move from my body to my warm cheeks, and he pulls.

Looking into his eyes as my own are threatening tears, I notice that he seems cool as a cucumber. Doesn’t help my raging insecurities one bit. But then, without any warning other than some slight repositioning of our bodies courtesy of Seb’s hips, he pulls out almost all the way and immediately rams himself up into me, full force.

“Ahh!~” My eyes widen, still staring into his as I moan, loudly. The tears that were forming from prior embarrassment escape my ducts with the new sensation.

Keeping one hand on my cheek, Seb lowers the other down to my butt, propping me up in a comfortable, kneeled squat as he continues thrusting. He keeps it there for support.

“Just lemme take care of you then, ok?” he asks, although it comes out as more of a statement.

I can barely process his words, simply nodding before resting my forehead on his.

“Are you comfortable?”

I nod, a desperate “Fuck, yes” escaping my lips to reassure him. I think that he tries to respond, but it comes out as more of a growl instead.

Clearly not planning on slowing down unless I say the words myself, Seb continues to fuck into me hard. My knuckles whiten as I grip the sheets on either side of him for dear life, barely able to fathom how… enlightening of an experience this is. The sound of his hips slapping my ass is embarrassingly loud but Yoba I do not care about that right now. I never knew I could feel so full.

“Fuck, Seb, you’re so big,” I strain out. “S-so fucking good.”

“And you’re taking it so well,” he praises after slipping out a cocky laugh. “You’re such a good girl for me,” he murmurs, tugging my hair so that I meet his eyes.

I didn’t even notice that my head had drooped back down to his shoulder at some point. A whimper slips out of me as I listen to his sweet words, struggling to keep my eyes from rolling back shut. A few wordless moments pass before Seb slows to a halt, and taps his knuckles against my ass.

“Lay on your back.”

I do as he says, like a good girl. I’m a little upset to have the previous position taken away, as it was pure fucking bliss, but I’m excited for the change of pace. Once I’m in a comfortable spot against the mattress, I urge him down to me, feeling needy for his lips. He indulges. Like a good boy.

Not seeming to want to break away from the kiss just yet, he grinds his dick along my folds. I reach down, desperate for more, pressing him closer to me to cover more surface. I take further control of the situation, gripping him fully and caressing his tip on my clit.

We moan in unison, but Seb is the one to deliberately break away from my mouth so he could let it all out. Music to my fucking ears. A shit-eating grin plasters me as I giggle with pride, but a hauntingly beautiful glare from my partner shuts me up.

He props my ankles up on his shoulders and slams back inside of me, all in one fluid motion that comes so suddenly. I shout, surprised by the sudden contact to a new angle, and he strongly cups a palm over my mouth.

Sporting an evil grin, Seb leans down, hovering his face over mine while pounding into me. My unnatural flexibility might be the direct cause of why my joints are so rickety at the ripe ol’ age of 26, but god it comes in handy sometimes. I’m basically folded in half.

“What’s so funny, darling?”

I shake my head as if to wordlessly answer “nothing, oh my god, just keep doing exactly what you’re doing.” I roll my eyes back with a stifled mewl, intoxicated by the 180-switch from soft dom to completely taking control of me.

“Thought so,” he lilts.

Seeming to take note of my reactions, Seb strengthens his grip in the hand on my hip, nails digging in hard enough to leave marks for sure. I laugh again under his hand, this time with hysterical pleasure. And oh my god, he loves this. He’s cracked the code. He knows damn well that his dominance over me is something I welcome, and the pride he feels as he succeeds to indulge me is written across his features.

As he straightens back up, he removes his palm, only to replace it with a forefinger curled under my chin and his thumb against my lips. Gazing up at him with clouded vision, I open my mouth and he slips the finger in, allowing me to suck and moan around it. He looks absolutely thrilled.

“Oh, that’s so hot, holy shit.” He’s keeping his composure well, but I can see in his brows that this is breaking him.

My next orgasm is rapidly approaching, and if his stiffening cock inside of me says anything, so is his. “M’gonna cum,” I gasp around his finger. He moves it out of the way, cupping my cheek sweetly instead as I beg him not to stop.

Seb chuckles at my desperate pleas, but I don’t even care. Too blissed out. He opts to comfort me while I tighten around him, “I’m not stopping baby, I’ve got you.”

My back arches as I accidentally claw at his torso, gripping onto anything I can. Feeling like I’ll float away if I don’t. I can tell by the soreness in my throat that I’m being loud, but all my ears can hone in on is the soft, satisfied “Mmmmfuck, that’s my fucking girl” that Seb murmurs to me. As if his reassurance is my green light, I absolutely crumble beneath him.

“S-shit, get on your knees?” he grunts just after I finish.

A sighed “mhm” is all I can manage. I thought you’d never ask, I think to myself as I promptly kneel onto the dark rug below his bed. His own hand is doing all the work as he grips some of my hair for support, so I simply open wide, push my boobs together with my arms, and try to look pretty. Well, as pretty as I can, being sweaty and out of breath from my own climax.

It must’ve worked, because—

“Fuuucking hell, (y/n),” he moans, his warmth landing mostly on my tongue as he rolls his head back and spews out some more curses. Some of it gets on my cheeks and chest, but that’s fine by me.

It’s like I’ve been personally baptized by Yoba. And Yoba is Sebastian’s cock.

I swallow once he’s finished, lean forward to kiss his well-worked thighs, and pick myself up. My legs don’t know how to move, so I promptly fling myself back down onto the bed.

“Holy shit,” I mumble, staring at the ceiling while he searches for a rag. He flicks on the light in the attached bathroom, and I hear the water run. Guess he found one.

God, I could die right now. I’ve never been positively railed like that in my life. I close my eyes and just wait patiently for Seb to come back, hoping I don’t fall asleep. Hoping I can get my shit together by the time Victor gets here.

“I’m glad I could deliver,” he muses, laying beside me to help me clean up. Leaning into his touch, I just nod. He presses a kiss to my forehead.

“I’m gonna go out on a whim here, and admit that I never doubted you.” I tell him. “In terms of like… you know. Fucking.” Obviously.

“So supportive.”

“Yeah, whatever, ya wad.” I curl up beside him, and he wraps an arm around me. I let out a deep sigh. “How much time ‘til Victor gets here?”

“Already thinking about other guys?”

“Sebastian I swear to fuck—“

“Not long.” He grins as he's cutting me off. “We should probably start trying to look presentable. I told him we’d pick him up.”

Ugh. I just nod, planting a smooch on his wrist before standing up. I make my first attempt post-fuck to walk. I think I’m managing, until I hear snickering behind me.

“What, Seb?”

“You're looking a little wobbly.”

Knowing he's right, I flip him off, before continuing my endeavor of pretending I didn’t just get fucked out of my mind.

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razorsharpteeth · 9 months

Text

TIMING: A few years prior. PARTIES: Samir & Pat LOCATION: Jacksonville, FL SUMMARY: The newspaper at Samir's work bears headlines of two murdered tourists. He's normal about it. CONTENT WARNINGS: Mentions of murder.

FLORIDA RIPPER STRIKES AGAIN: TWO TOURISTS FOUND DEAD.

JACKSONVILLE — The bodies of two honeymooners were found on the shore this morning by a local fisherman. “Looked like someone had gone to town on them. This freak’s gotta go,” he said, before going on to describe the ripped states of their bodies poking out of the sand. Local authorities have no answers yet.

Bex and Dawn were a newly married couple exploring the Keys on their honeymoon. The pair went missing the night before their planned departure a week ago and had not been seen since. Their bodies were found on the shore after winds blew the sand they’d been buried under away …

Samir shut the newspaper with force, hands clammy as he tried to neatly fold it and return it to its rightful place in the breakroom. Nausea took a hold of him as he shoved his chair back, a tremor spreading from his hands to his stomach to his lips.

It had happened again. It had happened in the Keys, it had happened in West Palm Beach, it would happen if he went further north. What would they call him then? Would he still be the Florida Ripper when he ditched his state? Clammy hands ran through his hair, then over his face. He needed something cool, so turned to the drink machine and used a few of his last dollars to buy a can of coke.

Pressing that against his temple, he wondered for the umpteenth time if his DNA would match that of the wolf inside. He thought of the deaths that hadn’t been written off as murders, but rather as animal attacks. He wondered what was more accurate. Murder by man or animal.

The door creaked open, one of his colleagues slipping in the break room. “Alright?” Pat saluted, offering Samir a grin before seeing his slack and sweaty face. He looked like a melting wax figure, desperately pressing a cool tin can against his head. “Shit. Like, are you alright?”

A nod. “Yeah, the fuck’s telling you that I’m not?” Samir’s eyes flashed up, anxiety twisting into something more manageable. Anger was ever-present and poorly suppressed, especially in a moment of apparent weakness. He bristled. “It’s just hot out, yeah? Bitch-ass humidity. Can’t catch a break.”

He tried not to look at the newspaper, which appeared to have not been touched. The headline was screaming at him from his periphery, but he kept his eyes trained on Pat for a moment, as if challenging him to say something. To give him an excuse to go off. What did it matter, anyway? He’d have to get out of town soon enough, find another place to do the same shitty work. Soon enough, he’d never see Pat or think of him again.

The other just held up his hands. “Relax, man.” Samir watched him sit down at the round table, fingers reaching for the paper. His stomach lurched. A drop of sweat ran down his back and he found himself straightening, fingers pressing in the can but not strong enough to do any damage. The monster inside would break it.

“Well, hey, gotta go. Break’s over. See you ‘round.” Exiting the breakroom before Pat could comment on Florida’s own local serial killer, Samir found himself outside in the humid, blaring sun. Steps were taken with haste, though none of it alleviated the tension that made his chest grow tighter, tighter, tighter. Not even throwing the can against a wall and watching it explode was enough to leash the rage inside.

#solo.

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thinplacesradio · 1 year

Photo

a black-sand beach, dark blue frothy-waved ocean, hazy fog. the image is distorted by green and pink VCR static. white text reads:

[018] THE CALF. A CALLER RELAYS A DREAM. THE HOST GOES TO THE SEA.

listen here, or anywhere you find your podcasts. transcript under the cut:

[static, radio tuning]

[Traveling Sales Rep: Don’t touch that dial! We’ll be right back, after these short messages.] [static, radio tuning]

[click]

Hello and welcome to Thin Places Radio. I’m your host,

and it is the middle of the night. But don’t worry. You’re not alone.

[Thin Places theme] [ocean sounds]

I’m coming to you small from my studio, which is what I like to call this rocky, small-stoned beach at the shore of an unending ocean, at the edge of the world. I took the train as far as I could, and I let my feet take me from there. I thought it would be leading me to something. But it’s just the sea, and I can’t even see it in front of me. I know it’s there by the great heaviness of the dark, and by the sound of the waves.

I respect the ocean, violent with life, filled to the brim with undrinkable water. And, I respect her even more at night. In the absence of sight, just one thing remains: the knowledge that I am a single drop of life here, in the presence of an alien god, and that she could take me away and no one would even know that it had happened. No one, perhaps, except you.

So… what is Thin Places Radio? Well, you can call in about anything strange that you’ve got going on in your life - feelings, omens, premonitions, hauntings.

Did you spot something a little too familiar while scrolling through the apps?

Are you bringing a dream into your waking hours?

Are you interrogating your opinions about mushrooms?

Call in, get it off your chest. Lines are open.

[click] [voicemail:]

Hi, first time caller. Love your show. Just so amazing. But I had a… really disturbing dream the other night. I was getting into my vehicle, and in the passenger seat, there was a football shaped object wrapped up in, in fabric. and I, uh, picked it up, and when I unwrapped it, it was a small cow head. Um. It was alive. It was looking at me and blinking. It had brown fur and a white diamond patch between its big innocent brown eyes. It made no noise though, except for breathing out its nose and moving its mouth trying to taste my shirt with its tongue. It was no blood around the neck area. There was not even any gore present. It was smoothed over fur like the rest of it. At one point I sit down - or, I sit it down on the grass to see if it would eat. And it immediately tried to do so, but couldn't swallow the chewed up grass. That's all really all I could remember of the dream. I decided to write all of it down just to see if I could figure it out. And I think that the dead bovine head - or the undead bovine head - still alive, small, detached from its body, feeling helplessness when seeing it. Feeling an urge to help the poor creature. I wanted to protect it. Feeling like it was a lost cause, but feeling guilty for thinking those thoughts. I know it'll never live, with or without my help. But I found it in a vehicle all wrapped up. I thought it was cute. Like I could be friends with it. Like I wanted to protect it from harm. I knew no one would understand if they saw me with it. They would want me to throw it away. Did I feel ashamed for wanting to be friends with something or someone - anyone - so badly that I would call an undead animal head a friend? Cuz I - I don't know. That's wrong, but I did it anyway. Because I saw something doomed and felt like I could save it. Is this my subconscious telling me… what to fix in my life? Or am I reading too much into this? It was only a dream though. I just thought I'd tell you these things and see what you thought about it. Thanks.

[click]

Thank you for sharing this beautiful, vivid dream, caller. It feels like I was in it with you. You aren’t reading too much into it, but I wonder if you’re reading the right thing. You read shame, feeling like you had to fix your life. But you described a miracle.

[searching music]

Here’s what I heard: You saw something strange and impossible and frightening and precious, and you tried to care for it. You tried to help, you empathized, and you wanted to protect it. What is so shameful about finding friendship in an unlikely place? What is wrong about trying to save something doomed? It’s undead, which means it’s still alive. Just a different kind of life. That’s beautiful, too. And even if it doesn’t live, is its life less valuable because it is short and bizarre? Is your kindness wasted? Of course not. It never is, no matter how it feels. No matter how it turns out.

[click] [bubbles] [sounds of a creature moving in the deep]

“Can you pull in Leviathan with a fishhook, or tie down its tongue with a rope?

Can you put a cord through its nose or pierce its jaw with a hook?

Will it keep begging you for mercy? Will it speak to you with gentle words?

If you lay a hand on it, you will remember the struggle and never do it again!

"I will not fail to speak of Leviathan’s limbs, its strength and its graceful form.

Who can strip off its outer coat? Who can penetrate its double coat of armor?

Who dares open the doors of its mouth, ringed about with fearsome teeth?

Its back has rows of shields tightly sealed together;

each is so close to the next that no air can pass between.

Its snorting throws out flashes of light; its eyes are like the rays of dawn.

Flames stream from its mouth; sparks of fire shoot out.

Smoke pours from its nostrils as from a boiling pot over burning reeds.

Iron it treats like straw and bronze like rotten wood.

Arrows do not make it flee; slingstones are like chaff to it.

It makes the depths churn like a boiling caldron and stirs up the sea like a pot of ointment.

It leaves a glistening wake behind it; one would think the deep had white hair.

Nothing on earth is its equal - a creature without fear.

It looks down on all that are haughty; it is king over all that are proud.”

[click] [ocean sounds]

I was hoping there would be a big answer here at the brink, but there's only a small one: a child used to come here with her family. She collected shell fragments and screamed at how cold the water was and forgot to put on sunscreen. She's standing here now, still. Much changed. But still looking out into the same expanse, even if she can't see it. Even if she'll never see the sun again.

[click]

Thank you for listening, callers, and thank you for calling, listeners. I hope you feel a little bit lighter. I know I do. As always, our number is 717.382.8093. That’s 717.382.8093. Until next time. I’ll be here.

[static] [Traveling Sales Rep: visit us at the - diner just off -] [Various Garbled Voices: the - road - provides - the - road - provides -]

Thin Places Radio is a podcast written by Kristen O’Neal and produced by Kaitlin Bruder. The voice of Your Host is Kristen O’Neal.

Tonight’s voicemail was left for us by Timothy. Editing and sound design are by Kaitlin Bruder, and the music tracks you heard in tonight’s episode are: the Thin Places theme, by Miles Morkri, and Umeed by RANA. If you have a question to ask, a story to tell, or a suggestion for the host, give us a call at ‪(717) 382-8093‬. The lines are always open.

[Thin Places Theme outro]

#thin places radio #tpr #plot episode #dreams #caller: timothy #podcast #episodes #018 #the calf #fiction podcast #audio drama #liminal #surreal #thin places #we're back! sorry for the break but thank you for the mic!

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strangerays · 10 months

Text

more excerpts! (week of 7/10/2023)

after I wrote a surprise scene (which revealed to me a lot that I didn't know about Ray) the words just started to flow out of me. so I said "why not? I'll roll with that!" And! I've managed to add about 4k words to my book this week! I wanted to share some of that here ^-^

These scenes follow Ray after she leaves a birthday party. She's having a bit of a breakdown because she's just made a discovery, which must be kept a secret in order to protect her best friend.

By the time I started to pull myself out of the water, it felt like hours had passed. Tangles of my hair clung to my face and dripped cold water over my shoulders, down my hips. Sand like mud swallowed my feet. No stars shone. Clouds hid the moon. I couldn’t tell whether I had been crying. When I rubbed my eyes, my fingers were red with cold. A riled breeze made me shiver, pushing me up, onto the sand. A cry of laughter erupted further down the beach. Reaching for my clothes, I eyed the group of kids through the waves of cattails. The girls stood in water that looked like it was glowing green in the moonlight. Their hair was wet because they had been swimming too. The boys stood on top of rocks slippery with sea-spit. They were all laughing at each other. I looked away. My eyes burned from the salt and the dark. I pulled my shirt on backwards over my wet body. When I was dressed, I rode my bike far past them, listening to frogs and the slap of an animal slinking deep underneath the water. Mothouse was already closed, and Kath had gone home. I sat down on the bench outside and pulled my shoes off. My socks were wet. Chewing hard on my lip, I threw them in the trash can beside the bench. I didn’t know what I was doing – I just knew I didn’t want to go home. There was so much inside me, so much that I never wanted to bring it home. Bubbling. Boiling. Threatening to spill. I needed to find a place to put it.

“Ray?” With a start, I whirled around. I hadn’t realized I was standing so near Butternut Brook until I saw her, then I realized the marshy smell all around me, and the chirrup of crickets. Jude was standing at the edge of her driveway, looking at me as though I had crawled out of the brook. She was wearing a pair of Stranger Things pajama pants. “Your clothes are wet,” she said. “Have you been swimming?” I couldn’t tell if she was really there or not. Somehow, she always managed to be there when I needed her. Without asking for her. Her hair was wavy like she’d been bundled in a blanket for hours. Neither of us were wearing shoes or socks. It was a peculiar night. “Yeah.” She left her driveway, stepping closer to me. Behind her shoulder, all the lights inside the one-story house were shut off. I wondered whether she was home alone, or she stayed up late, like Lonan and I. Boxes were piled on the doorstep. “You’re shivering,” she said. Her voice sounded sleepy, like she hadn’t spoken a word for hours. “How long have you been out here? I thought you were going to a party.” My lip trembled. “I wanted to go home.” “But you’re all the way out here.” My eyes filled with tears. Jude pressed her lips together into a nervous smile. “You’re crying.” My bike fell to the ground. Instead of catching it, Jude’s hands found my waist, pulling me into a tight embrace. She was shorter than me, so she buried her head in my shoulder, and I put my chin in her hair. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I just… want to… stop.” I was sobbing. Jude didn’t let me go until I stopped.

I also tried writing a chapter in Jude's perspective! Still not sure if I'm gonna keep it (I haven't finished it lmao) but since I have one from Lonan's perspective, I figured it couldn't hurt to try writing another character. I suck at making their voices different but that's totally ok in this draft right now!! I just wanted to get the idea down.

Ray was so eager to keep secrets. She gathered everything close to her and refused to let go, until they rotted. And, even when the things she loved had lost their luster, she protected them. It really annoyed me in a way, that some people were so fortunate to hold their lives in their hands like that. It made me want to stick around her, to help her protect those things she was so afraid of losing. It was late, and I didn’t have anything else to do. Even if I did, I was sure I would have chosen her the same.

That's all for now! I hope you enjoyed these snippets as much as I enjoyed writing them <3

#also on my agenda are renaming the book and cleaning up the middle of the story!#i fear the middle may turn out so boring lmao #im definetly going to find some time to write after work tomorrow evening and then at least have the morning free on sunday #im really excited about all this time ive had to write recently! getting closer to the story again has made me feel really complete again #<3 #anyways! good luck with all your own writing endeavors :)#nothing in particular and everything

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nuggets-and-french-fries · 1 year

Text

~Taron Egerton: Buzzing Attraction.

Summer…

The season of abundant bright sunshine. Hot sandy beaches, ice-cold treats and barbeques with friends and family. Swimming in the ocean, fishing and collecting rocks and other fun treasures one comes across during beach trips.

It was also the season of gentle sea breezes, swarms of seagulls, fish and chips, walks along the pier, sun bathing and picnics in the park or in the safety of your back yard. If you were feeling really adventurous and a tad frisky though, you could even say that it was the season of new found love and naughty activities with your new neighbors. That’s what it was for y/n and the hottie next door.

Y/n had just moved into the empty house next to Taron’s and while he’d normally go over and introduce himself or offer to help carry heavy boxes, he was just getting back into the routine of being home in Wales as he had been overseas filming his new swashbuckling movie, The Adventures of Anne Bonny, in which he portrayed pirate, Calico Jack.

Taron was tired to say the least and when he woke up that morning to see such a beautiful bright sunny sky, he decided that a day in the backyard with Nelly was needed. He ordered himself some food, grabbed a few beers and treats for Nelly before heading outside in just his shorts to soak up the weather.

Y/n on the other hand had been bathing in the sun for the last half an hour in her new black bikini. She had never really had the confidence to buy swim suits like that but with this fresh start, she figured that she’d try it and if she was being honest, it made her feel quite sexy. Sexier than the slime she was dating before she moved to Aber.

She was really loving to be in a town where community really mattered. Where everyone knew everyone and looked after one another. The locals were great and would often tell stories of people in the town. One of which, she had already heard many of. Her new neighbor. Upon hearing these stories, she knew being civil with him was the way to go, because she still wanted to be careful. Mind you, she didn’t really trust anybody yet. That would come in it’s own time. She couldn’t lie though; he was incredibly good looking and had the most adorable sassy dog.

Speaking of the sassy ball of fluff and fur, she was busy swimming after the ball Taron had thrown into the pool for her to catch. Fetch was her favorite game and when she could, she would always try and initiate a game or two with whoever gave her attention, which most of the time was Taron’s two young sisters, Rosie and Mari.

Y/n could hear Taron talking to Nelly and it made her smile. He sounded like a good guy. Nelly of course would bark back as though answering him.

She was just about to say something to him when out of nowhere, the stupid bee that had been bothering y/n earlier, returned. This time though, it was out for revenge after y/n swatted at it. It landed right on her inner thigh. Y/n had heard that if you stayed as still as you could, the bees etc. wouldn’t sting you. She tried this but the bastard ignored that and stung her anyway.

Y/n let out a yelp and jumped from her lounge chair in attempt to get the stinging sensation to dissipate. It didn’t. It only intensified.

“What happened?” Taron asked as he jumped the fence and rushed to her aid.

Y/n stopped her over reactive movements and just stared at him. What the hell was he doing?

He helped y/n over to the lounge chair she had been sitting on previously and began examining her body for any harm; and without thinking, this included completely removing her swimming bottoms, which normally y/n would say something about, but she was honestly too flabbergasted to register what was going on.

“Bee sting.” Was all that y/n managed to squeak out as she continued to watch him and what he was doing.

Meanwhile, Nelly was looking at her human through the fence and if she could, she would have rolled her eyes at his overdramatic action of jumping over the fence. The four-legged animal let out a sound similar to a scoff and went back to retrieving her ball from the pool, letting a splash follow in her wake.

While Taron was examining her, y/n tried to keep her moans to herself. His hands felt good against her skin and his fingers -which were very close to her core- felt better than she could have imagined. It was only when Taron noticed how quiet she was, that he realized what he had done. His stomach dropped. Not only had he jumped the fence and invaded her property, but he had also just invaded her personal space and violated her. His hands fell from her, and he moved back. Y/n was disappointed at the lack of contact.

“I’m so sorry.” He said quickly, making y/n nod slowly.

What was she supposed to say? Was she supposed to get mad like anyone would and had the right to or was she supposed to tell him to keep going because it felt so good to be touched that way.

Oh no, instead, all that came out was a moan that she had been supressing.

Taron’s brows rose in amusement and y/n blushed a deep Scarlett. I guess getting mad at him like her brain wanted was out of the question. Stupid hormones.

Y/n cleared her throat and smirked at him.

“I was going to yell at you for that, but I guess you caught me.” She replied through an embarrassed chuckle.

“Felt that good did it?” Taron asked, taking a leap of faith with the seduction and teasing in his tone of voice.

“Honestly?” Y/n asked, biting her lip a little for effect.

Taron nodded.

Y/n motioned for him to come closer with her finger and he slowly inched forward, placing his hands on the arm rests either side of her body, essentially trapping her in place.

“I want to see what that tongue of yours can do.” She teased, running her fingers along his arm tenderly, sending shivers not only down his spine, but hers as well. She was never like this, but she was too turned on to care.

Taron smirked down at her and watched as she subtly licked her lower lip in anticipation.

“Is that so?” He teased.

Y/n watched him with hungry eyes as she nodded slowly, letting out a small yet low hum.

“Yes.” She replied softly, bringing her hands up to remove the sunglasses he was wearing. She wanted to see his eyes. She wanted to look into them as she felt his tongue in places it shouldn’t be.

“Spread your legs.” He whispered before lowering his face to hers, silently asking for a kiss.

Y/n tilted her head back a little more, inviting his lips to grace hers in a tender yet erotically passionate dance. One that left y/n feeling electrified, heady and wanted. One that neither she nor Taron had ever experienced in their lives. One that left her feeling breathless and warm at the same time.

Taron was the one to break the kiss and the look in y/n’s eye told him all that he needed to know. She was hooked on him as much as he was to her.

He smiled at her and moved down to situate himself between her legs. The place he had been before with concern for her but now, he was down there with nothing but lust and a deep yearning for her.

“Ready?” He asked, wanting to make sure she was ok with his actions this time.

Y/n locked eyes with him and nodded, giving him a reassuring smile.

“Yes.” She replied, a giddiness in her tone.

Taron took note of the tone and winked at her, making her blush once more. She couldn’t wait any longer. She wanted him. No, she needed him.

Y/n watched as he inched closer to her core and when she felt his breath fan across her clit, she shuddered. He glanced up at her and saw that infatuation was written all over her face. It made him feel attractive, more than he ever had.

“Holy fuck.” Y/n gasped as she felt the tip of his tongue barely graze over her clit. Her body arched into him, trying to feel more.

Taron smiled against her as he swirled his tongue around her clit with more pressure. Y/n moaned out and grasped on to the arm rest, in an attempt to steady herself.

Never before had she felt this amount of pleasure course through her veins. Y/n had known some pretty good cunnilingus in her time, but this was unlike anything she had ever experienced before. It was pure ecstasy, and she didn’t know what else to do other than grip the arm rests as she attempted to catch her breath, but it was damn near impossible as she felt his tongue enter her.

“Oh god.” She moaned out.

Taron pulled away enough to look up at her.

“Keep going.” Y/n said, harsher than she meant to. The amusement in Taron’s eyes made her smile down at him. He was enjoying this and frankly, so was she.

“On one condition.” Taron replied.

“What?” She questioned.

“Go out with me.” He answered as he let his fingers graze over her pussy ever so lightly. Y/n moaned and bit her lower lip.

“Give me an orgasm out of this world and I will.” She bartered, desperate for a release. One he was currently delaying.

“You got yourself a deal.” Taron mumbled against her dripping pussy.

As he inserted his middle finger into her, y/n threw her head back and moaned even louder than she had been. Taron moved to suck on her clit as he added his ring finger into her. He began pumping his fingers in and out of her; slow at first and then as fast as his arm would let him.

The sensation of his fingers inside her, stretching her out and the suction he had over her clit had y/n writhing in rapture. Her body felt as though it was on fire with all the stimulation it was receiving.

Y/n was too in her own world to realize just how close she was. Taron though, he could feel her pulsing around his fingers, and this gave him the indication that she was so close, so, he moved his fingers even faster and gave one last good suck before she was writhing on the lounge chair. Her body on overdrive as she squirted. Something she had never done during sex of any kind.

Taron watched in awe at the scene in front of him. Sure he had been told that he had a talent in the oral sex area but to see the effects of it play out in front of him had his body pulsing with the need for his own release. He tried to stop it, but it was no use. His cock twitched in his shorts and left him shuddering as his own orgasm rushed through him.

“I can’t move.” Y/n said, barely able to form the words.

Taron wanted to reply but he was too busy going through his own climax to do so.

Y/n opened her eyes and saw the pleasure on his face. She giggled lazily to herself as she watched him come back down.

“Wow, I’ve never done that before.” Y/n said after a minute or two.

Taron opened his eyes and looked at her with question.

“I’ve never made a guy cum without touching him.” She admitted, smiling at him. It was Taron’s turn to blush a deep Scarlett.

“It’s hot.” She told him, boosting his confidence (and ego) a little bit.

“Yeah?” He asked, looking down at his crotch.

“Oh yeah.” She replied.

They looked at each other and smirked.

“So, how about we get cleaned up and go on that date?” Y/n suggested, making Taron nod.

“Just promise me one thing.” Y/n said.

“What’s that?” He replied.

“Use the front door when you leave.” She teased as she stood on her still shaky legs and walked into the house with a breathless Taron following behind her.

Yeah, Summer was the season for many things, hot backyard sex being one of them.

===

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