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#Property ownership tips
soovyclub · 1 year
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6 Tips for New Homeowners - Steps Every New Homeowner Should Take Discover tips for homeowners to help you settle into your new home with smart steps to prepare property owners when moving into a new house and the important things to consider and how to get ready for home maintenance by learning basic DIY skills. https://www.soovy.club/blog/tips-for-new-homeowners-steps-every-new-property-owner-should-take-moving-house
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emiratrealestate · 5 months
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Leading Real Estate Management Company in Dubai | Emirate Real Estate
As the top real estate property management agency in Dubai, Emirate Real Estate offers expert property investment guidance and comprehensive management services. Trust our leading Dubai real estate company for unparalleled expertise.
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universalinfo · 1 year
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Apprehending the Ins and Outs of Building Warranties
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When we invest in a new property, we're not just acquiring bricks and mortar; we're securing a space that embodies our aspirations, comfort, and security. Along with the excitement of owning a fresh piece of real estate comes the responsibility of safeguarding our investment. Amidst the cacophony of contracts, mortgage papers, and house blueprints, one document should be at the forefront of every new homeowner’s mind: the new build warranty. 
Often overlooked, this warranty acts as the invisible shield, defending homeowners from unexpected costs and providing a safety net against constructional oversights. In the world of real estate, it acts like a superhero, working silently in the background to ensure your home remains the sanctuary it was meant to be. Let’s dive deep into understanding what a building warranty is, its importance, and where to procure one.
What Exactly is a Building Warranty?
Stepping into a freshly built or renovated home is akin to opening a brand-new book; everything is pristine and untouched. However, like any new entity, there can be hidden flaws or imperfections that might arise with time. Here's where the new build warranty comes into play. Essentially, a building warranty more popularly termed as a new build warranty, is a protective agreement. 
Offered by warranty providers or builders, its primary function is to cover any defects that might emerge in a newly constructed or transformed property. Think of it as an umbrella on a rainy day; it's an insurance shield guarding homeowners against looming structural storms. Typically, the safety of this umbrella stretches for a decade, ensuring that for ten whole years, homeowners can have the confidence that any covered hitches will be addressed, sparing them unnecessary financial stress.
The Compelling Reasons for a New Build Warranty
Protection Against Defects
Picture this. Two years into your newly constructed dream home, and suddenly, there's a glitch. Perhaps the lights flicker more than they should, or there's an annoying drip from a bathroom pipe. With the new build warranty, errors stemming from the builder's craftsmanship are usually covered. So, those unexpected electrical or plumbing glitches? They're taken care of.
Major Structural Security
Moving past the early years, the new build warranty continues its role as a guardian. Major structural challenges that might arise, whether it's a weakening roof or a compromised foundation, are enveloped under this protective policy.
Financial Safety Net
Let's face it; repairs can dig deep holes in our pockets, especially the extensive ones. But with an active new build warranty, those potential expenses? They're on the house – or more accurately, on the warranty. No need for you to break the bank for covered repairs.
Boosted Property Value
The real estate market thrives on assurance. A home boasting an active new build warranty is akin to a product with a quality assurance tag. It signals reliability, making your property a magnet for potential buyers, looking for both beauty and guarantee.
Unwavering Peace of Mind
The culmination of all these benefits? A serene state of mind. With a new build warranty, there's an intrinsic assurance that your space, your sanctuary, has an added layer of protection against unexpected structural adversaries.
So, Where Can You Get a New Build Warranty?
While many builders offer a new build warranty as part of the home purchase package, there are multiple ways to obtain one:
Directly From Builders: As part of their service, many reputed builders will include a new build warranty in the package. Before purchasing, ensure you check the duration and what it covers.
Warranty Providers: There are specialized companies that provide new-build warranties. If your builder doesn’t offer one, or if you prefer to choose your warranty provider, this is a viable option.
Conversion Warranties: If you’re converting a property, there are specific new-build warranties tailored for conversions. It’s essential to explore these to find the best fit for your project.
Research: Just as you’d research a property before purchasing, it's vital to investigate different new build warranty options. Look at reviews, what's covered, and the duration to make an informed decision.
Navigating the Terms and Conditions
Being shielded by a new build warranty undoubtedly brings a sigh of relief. But, just as a shield needs occasional polishing and understanding, it's imperative to familiarize oneself with the warranty's intricate details. After all, knowledge is power, and in this context, it's the power to ensure optimal protection.
Understanding Coverage: Like any policy or agreement, a new build warranty will have its specifics. Some might cover both minor and major defects, while others might limit their coverage to significant structural issues. The key lies in discerning these differences. Make sure you comprehend the full spectrum of what’s protected and, equally important, what's excluded.
Duration Matters: While many new build warranties often stretch for a decade, the breadth of coverage can change over time. For instance, certain aspects covered in the initial years might not receive the same coverage in the latter part of the decade. Keeping a tab on these timelines ensures you're always in the know.
Maintenance Requirements: Sometimes, the validity of a warranty hinges on periodic maintenance or check-ups. Overlooking these might inadvertently void some protections. Familiarizing oneself with any such prerequisites can be instrumental in preserving the warranty's robustness.
Claim Processes: Heaven forbid you ever face an issue, but should you, it's essential to know the claim process. Some warranties might have specific reporting windows or documentation requirements. A keen understanding of these can expedite any repair or rectification process, ensuring minimal disruptions.
Transferability: If you choose to sell your property during the warranty period, you should determine whether you can transfer the new build warranty to the new owner. This feature not only boosts your property's appeal but also guarantees protection for the new owner.
Conclusion
The world of real estate can be daunting. Between mortgages, property taxes, and maintenance, there’s a lot to consider. For more details on Build Warranty feel free to contact us. However, a new build warranty stands out as a beacon of reassurance. It’s more than just a piece of paper – it's a testament to the quality of the property, a shield against unforeseen expenses, and a tool that can significantly boost your property’s value. When considering your next property, make the new build warranty a top priority. It's not just about owning a space; it's about owning it with confidence and security.
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erika-xero · 2 years
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Beware, the long post incoming. Pro tips for artists who work on commissions!
DISCLAIMER: I do not have, like, a HUGE online following and can’t be called a popular or viral artist, but I do have some experience and I’ve been working as a freelance artist for more that five years, so I could share a few tips on how to work with clients with my fellow artists. Scroll down for the short summary!
First of all, you always need to have your Terms of Service written down in a document that is accessible for your potential clients. And by terms of service I don’t mean a set of rules like “I don’t draw mecha, anthro and N/S/F/W”. There is much more into it, than you may think when you first start drawing commissions.
You’ll need to understand how copyright law/author’s rights in your country works (for example, US copyright or Russian author’s rights, be sure to check your local resources). There are a bunch of sites where you can actually read some legal documents (. I know it might be boring, but TRUST me, you WILL need this knowledge if you choose this career path.
Russia, for example, is plagued with shops selling anime merchandise. The merchandise is usually printed somewhere in the basement of the shop and the shop owners literally rip off other people’s intellectual property. If the artist ask them to remove their IP from the shop the owners usually try to fool them with lies about how the IP works. They will tell you, that you have to register copyright on every single drawing and if you don’t do it anyone can reproduce and sell your artwork. In reality, copyright law in most countries simply doesn’t work this way. Once you create an original work and fix it, take a photograph, write a song or blog entry, paint an artwork, you already are the author and the owner. Yes, there are certain procedures of copyright registration, which is only a step to enhance the protection, but you become an author the very moment you create a piece of art, and no one have a right to take your creation from you. Knowing your rights is essential.
Some of your commissioners may try to scam you too, but most of them might simply not be aware of how copyright law works. I literally had people asking me questions whether or not the character I am commissioned to draw becomes MY intellectual property. I literally had to convince the person (who was legit scared, since the commissioned piece was going to be a first image of his character ever created) otherwise. If you have an idea of the character written down or fixed in any other form such as a collage, a sketch, or a concept art -- the character is yours. Artist may have rights to the image they create, but not the character itself. Your potential commissioner must acknowledge that their characters, settings and etc. is still theirs, while your artwork is yours, if your contract doesn’t state otherwise. You can sell the property rights on your artwork to your commissioner if you want, but it is unnecessary for non-commercial commissions. And I strongly advice you to distinguish the non-commercial commissions from commercial ones and set the different pricing for them. Even if you sell ownership of your artwork to your commissioner, you can not sell the authorship. You will always remain an author of your artwork, thus you still have all the author’s rights stated in the legal documents.
Another thing that is absolutely necessary to be stated in your terms of service is information whether (and when) it is possible to get a refund from you. You absolutely have to write it down: no. refunds. for finished. artworks.
You have already invested time and effort to finish an artwork. The job is done and the money is yours. I’ve heard stories of commissioners demanding refund a few months later after the commission was finished and approved by the commissioners, because, quote “I do not want it anymore”. Commissioning an artist doesn’t work this way, artwork is not an item purchased on shein or aliexpress that can be sent back to the seller. It is not a mass production. It is a unique piece of art. Example: My friend once drew a non-commercial commission for a client who tried to use it commercially later on. She contacted him and reminded of the Terms of Service he agreed with, offering him to pay a fee for commercializing the piece instead of taking him to the court or starting a drama. He declined and suddenly demanded a full refund for that commission via Paypal services. My friend contacted the supports and showed them the entire correspondence with that client. She also stated that the invoice he paid included a link to the Terms and Service he had to agree with if he pays that invoid. The money were returned to her.
However, partial refund can be possible at the certain stage of work. For example, the sketch is done, but something goes horribly wrong. Either the client appeared to be a toxic person, or an artist does not have a required skill to finish the job. I suggest you keep the money for the sketch, but refund the rest of the sum. It might be 50/50 like I suggested to my clients before (when I still could work with Paypal), but it really depends on your choise. I suggest not doing a full refund though for many reasons: not only you make yourself vulnerable, but you also might normalize a practice harmful to other artists this way.
The main reason why full refund when the sketch/line-art are done must not be an option is that some clients may commission other artists with lower prices to finish the job. This brings us to the next important point: you absolutely need to forbid your clients from altering, coloring or overpainting your creation or commission other artists to do so. This also protects your artwork from being cropped, changed with Instagram filters or even being edited into a N/S/F/W image. Speaking of which. If you create adult content, you absolutely need to state that to request such a commission, your commissioner must at least be 18/21 years old (depending on your country). And as for the SFW commissions you also have to state that if someone underage commissions an artwork from you it is automatically supposed that they have a parental concern.
There is also a popular way to scam artist via some payment systems, called I-did-not-receive-a-package. Most of the payment systems automatically suppose that you sell goods which have to be physically delivered via postal services. This is why it is important to state (both in the Terms of Service and the payment invoice itself) that what commissioner is about to receive is a digital good.
And the last, but not the least: don’t forget about alterations and changes the commissioner might want to make on the way. Some people do not understand how difficult it may be to make a major change in the artwork when it is almost finished. Always let your commissioners know that all the major changes are only acceptable at early stages: sketch, line-art, basic coloring. Later on, it is only possible to make the minor ones. I prefer to give my commissioner’s this info in private emails along with the WIPs I send, but you can totally state it in your Terms of Service. I do not limit the changes to five or three per commission, but I really do appreciate it when I get all the necessary feedback in time.
To sum this post up, the info essential for your Terms of Service doc is:
- The information on whether or not your commissions are commercial or non-commercial. If they are non-commercial, is there a way to commercialize them? At what cost?
- The information on author’s and commissioner’s rights;
- The information on whether (and when) refunds are possible;
- The prohibition of coloring, cropping, overpainting and other alterations;
- The information on whether or not you provide the commissioner with some physical goods or with digital goods only;
- Don’t forget about your commissioner’s age! If you work with client who is a minor, a parental consern is required. And no n/s/f/w for underage people!
- You may also want to include that you can refuse to work on the commission without explanation in case you encounter a toxic client or feel like it might be some sort of scam.
- I also strongly suggest you work with prepay, either full or 50% of total sum, it usually scares off the scammers. I take my prepay after me and my client agree on a rough doodle of an overall composition.
- I also include the black list of the themes: everyting offensive imaginable (sexism, homophobia, transfobia, racism, for N/S/F/W artists it also might be some certain fetishes and etc). Keep your reputation clean!
- Ban N/F/T and blacklist the commissioners who turn your artworks into them anywayss, don’t be shy <3
These are the things that are absolutely necessary but are so rarely seen in artists’ Terms of Service that it makes me sad. Some of these tips really helped me to avoid scams and misunderstandings. I really hope it helps you all!
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ickadori · 1 year
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++ 𝐋𝐀𝐃𝐘 𝐅𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐀
[summary] focalors takes on a rather rambunctious puppy hybrid.
[cws] fem reader -> hybrid reader. tribbing. oral (furina receiving). ownership (hybrids are deemed as pets). overstimulation (furina). unedited.
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Lady Furina had never found the prospect of ‘owning’ a hybrid to be beneficial to her in any way, even when it first became legal to do so in Fontaine and it was all the rave.
Merely stepping onto your front porch for a breath of fresh air granted you the sight of hybrids of all kinds being led around the streets by their owners; cat hybrids, bunny hybrids, dog hybrids, lamb hybrids, hybrids that looked more animal than human and vice versa.
She never let her gaze stray to them, not even when they ogled so shamelessly and tried to grab her attention. She was usually more than happy to indulge her citizens when they so desperately wanted her attention (always the show off) but she deemed hybrids as… less than. She was a God, after all, thee God. A God amongst Gods when compared to the others, and someone of her caliber was above giving mere animals, property, her attention.
But then you had appeared in her courtroom - an overactive dog hybrid without an owner who had been accused of stealing food from the local vendors. It was a case hardly worth her attention, you being the clearly guilty party, the only evidence they needed being the gooey danishes haphazardly crammed into your pockets, but yet she still found herself engaged in the proceedings.
She watched from her perch as you poorly tried to act as your own defense, brazenly denying that the sweets you had stolen were actually stolen. You claimed that you had baked them yourself at home, despite your lack of a home. When the scales had finally tipped against you and the verdict was read, you had hurriedly stuffed the sweets into your mouth before the guards could drag you away, eliciting a chorus of laughter and cheers to ring throughout the room.
You had managed to pique her interest - you were amusing, opposed to other members of your species who served as nothing more than a cute thing on a leash to be shown off. You were rebellious, but not in way that of someone purposefully trying to anger the law - it seemed that you just had poor impulse control, lacked a proper owner to reel you in and quell those bad behaviors…
Furina saw herself fit to be that owner.
-
Furina would never admit that she had bitten off more than she could chew, especially when it came to her being overwhelmed with disciplining a hybrid of all things. A woman of her stature, a God, unable to keep something not too far removed from an animal in check? Preposterous!
“S-Stop it at once!” Her voice is breathy, weak, and it holds none of the finality and confidence that it usually does in the courtroom. Her gaze, usually so firm (yet still often wavering), is clouded now, dazed and heated as she looks up at you from where you have her pinned beneath you, her thighs pushed apart and up as you straddle her sex, your own sex frantically sliding against her own.
“Lady Furina,” you pant, hips desperately bucking against hers, breasts bouncing and swaying with each of your movements. Your clit repeatedly bumps into hers, puffy lips sticky with yours and hers juices. “Lady Furina! ‘S good—you feel so good!”
She gasps, nails clawing at the wooden floor she’s splayed on, and her head weakly shakes from side to side. She can’t count how many times she’s come, nor how many positions you’ve put her in ever since she walked through the front door of your shared home — her mind has been coming and going since you first wrestled her pants down and buried your face between her slender thighs, tongue sloppily lapping at her clit and folds.
Sticky, tacky sounds can be heard as you hump her cunt, pussy lips gliding together, holes drooling and clits kissing. Your clit is hard and twitching over hers, and she keens, lips parting and eyes glossing over.
“Messy… ‘n wet.” Your ears twitch atop your head, nose wrinkling and eyes rolling as your hips begin to move more aggressively, firmer, rougher, cunt dragging against hers. The dustings of white hair on her cunt is slick with the both of your juices, sparkling like a pretty diamond, and a scream gets caught in her throat when you slide your pussy off of hers and drop to your stomach between her thighs, mouth latching onto her as you lap at her dripping hole.
You moan and groan against her, slurping at her cunt and sucking on her clit. Your tongue weaves between her folds, dips into her fluttering hole and rubs against her walls, even travels down her crack and teases at her other hole, eliciting a yelp and a weak pull at your ear until you go back to feasting on her pussy.
You mumble something against her, words muffled due to your lips being suctioned around her clit, and your hands move to grope at her breasts, fingers sinking into the flesh as you squeeze at the small mounds.
You detach from her clit, lips brushing against the sensitive bud as you rasp out, “Come, Lady Furina. Come again—like last time. I wanna taste you.” Your words are fast, slurred together, and suddenly two fingers are pushing into her hole with a lewd squelch, your lips moving back to suck at her clit with vigor.
Furina’s eyes snap shut, hips rocking into your mouth as you rub at her walls, and she lets out broken moans and stuttered gasps as she feels that immense pressure getting ready to release.
Your fingers scissor inside of her, tongue lapping at her clit, and her thighs clamp around your head as a spray of fluids leave her, an excited yip leaving you as she drenches your mouth, chin and cheeks further.
Your fingers pull free from her spasming cunt to instead push past your lips, fluttering eyes focused on her sensitive, overstimulated sex, and Furina lets her head knock back against the floor as she fights for her breath.
She doesn’t even attempt to get up, muscles feeling like jelly, but after a few seconds she begins to wish that she had at least tried, maybe then you wouldn’t have taken her stillness as a sign to once again slot your pussy with hers.
Ever the insatiable mutt..
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ak319 · 1 month
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Yan Princess x fem reader
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(Warnings: Possessive, stalker, betrayal, )
Your name in the story is Deniz
Part I
(Your POV)
"But Clara what we can do is ---with the help of the Mayor perhaps negotiate with them. I think they would agree, I mean that family loves doing charity don't they?"
"Yup, they do, Leo. But not behind the scenes. When the camera is off, they are just another ordinary, rich, money-hungry family." My boss Clara sighed for the umpteenth time and took her glasses off. I sat quietly on the sofa listening to their banter for the past ten minutes.
Our organisation, Redwood High Social Work was now facing what seemed like a dead end regarding the 1 acre of land that was designated to be made into a proper field for sports, not only for Redwood but for Knights High which was affiliated to Redwood and was a school for Special Ed. They really deserve that ground. Every kid deserves a good sport and imagine the numerous events we can have in the field. But somehow everything isn't so easy. We received an email last night which was apparently from the palace! Like THE PALACE! We thought that it was a prank but in the morning the Mayor's secretary sent us one clarifying that yes, it was from the palace. And what it stated was that and I quote
''....the field itself isn't the issue but the forest behind it is the property of the Royal family. God forbid none of us would want anyone harmed if there happens to be any hunting activity taking place. Keeping this in mind, it is therefore requested that your honourable organization reconsider its plans and if any compensation is desired, contact the number XXXX...."
"Just read this posh ass shit. I cannot believe the Mayor ditched us like that." Clara snarled flailing her arms once more making Leo rub his temples. I noticed a few gray hairs on the back of his head. Poor guy really be getting old early due to Clara.
"He didn't ditch us Clara. He did what any person would do, listen to the higher-ups. DUH?!"
"Higher ups?! Seriously Leo? Where were these higher-ups when we officially signed ownership documents and paid for the fucking land levelling equipment?! Do you think they gonna refund me? NO! Even if they do it will be half of the amount. Those were the school's funds LEO! The principal will get chewed on by the parents and in both schools! God....I don't---I can't just wrap my fucking mind around this whole scenario. That forest is literally at the edge of the field. The fences have been already built around 2 years ago. There are no reports of any animal attacks. And it's not like we are not going to monitor our children. Do we look stupid to them?! And I swear Leo and Deniz...they don't own that forest. I checked it a million times. Nobody goes there but oh now they do? Kiss my ass! "
I took a deep breath and put down my laptop down on the table before walking over to her desk.
"Maybe, Leo is right. We can only sort this out via a meeting."
"Meeting with who Deniz? I see only one solution. That is to sue them. Imma sue them, Imma sue the mayor too. Like where is he now? Huh? Did he just use us as some campaign pawns? Did you see his fucking website? WE ARE THERE! BUT NOW LOOK WE DON'T HAVE THE FUCKING GROUND. Imma sue his ass." She ran her hand through her curly black locks in anger. I definitely can understand what she is going through. Frustration. Anger. Sadness. But we all need to think instead of rant.
"I did see it, Clara. But you need to calm down. We need to come up with something solid. And suing the royal family? Can we even do that?" I looked at Leo who shrugged.
"See? We are not making any sense right now. What is done is done. So, I was thinking like---we can use the power of media as well. Why don't I call in Alfie and get your words on the front page tomorrow? He is looking for some hot tips as well these days." Alfie was Clara's cousin and a pretty seasoned journalist too.
"Get my words on what exactly?. We need to-" She breathed in for once before continuing "We need to have a chat with both of these parties first, Deniz. Go and keep reaching the Mayor's office. We will get rid of him first. Leo, go inform Knights about this fuckery but feed them some words of hope as well like 'we are working on it and it will be sorted', gotcha? Also, ask them to keep it to themselves. I don't want any parent drama."
"I already sent e-mails to the Mayor's office. Also what about Ma'am Layla?" I referred to our school's principal.
"I'll explain this to her myself." With that, everybody got to work. Honestly never thought that a degree in Science in Policy could lead to such a problematic job. I thought everything was going to be cookies and rainbows. But meh. People ruin everything. And I mean some assholes and I know exactly who this might be. But I need to be calm and focused right now.
Anyway, why is the Mayor even siding with the Royals --- since when are they interfering in the government?. Just as I was thinking this I got a notification on my phone. YES! An email from Emilia, Mayor Alex's secretary.
It said that Carla is invited to a meeting tomorrow. Mhm. This is good news then. Better go tell her.
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Fast forward to tomorrow, we were heading to the Mayor's abode. Not his office. His home. Which was odd. It was only me, as I was the assistant to the project manager, and Carla herself, the project manager/organization head, and the driver.
"So don't worry about the talking I'll-"
"You will handle it. I know. Just don't use the word sue ten times in a row and we will be good."
"Deniz, come on. Everybody loses their marbles sometimes. Didn't you once break everything in your room just because your food order was cancelled due to rain or something like that?" She whispered to me about my meltdown. My eyes widened in embarrassment, making her laugh.
"I assume you the most humble Carla, never experienced the emotion "hanger". And guess what--I had my movie ready to be played and my pad changed. " I whispered the last part to her as well. "So yeah, my cosy time was ruined. I would wage a war for that."
"Pft. Imagine you being a Queen. You would wage war everyday then."
"Damn right." Although her words brought an uncomfortable feeling and bitter thoughts in my mind making me shiver but I remained composed.
We bantered and went through some points before finally reaching our destination. I said some prayers as I got out of the car wishing that everything goes smoothly and this gets sorted out today. Glancing over at Carla's blank look as she scanned the front door, I could tell she was hoping the same.
Soon the Mayor greeted us in his formal attire and led us to his veranda where someone else was present too. An old man but his poise screamed of experience and wisdom. His eyes seemed to smile when we entered but the rest of his face was stoic. He was introduced to us as Richard, the queen's butler of some sorts. Just great.
The discussion started and it was revealed by "MR. RICHARD" that,
"As a matter of fact that forest is a part of royal treasury but since this---trifle has started, the King has with open heart decided to hand it to your organization, but..."
All of three of us leaned and waited for the next words out of his mouth. God , he spoke so slow.
"only when Princess Kade returns back from Harvard." My heart dropped.
"And why is that?" Carla's blurted out, in favor of mine and Alex's curiosity.
"Because it is accorded in her name. Her property , her signatures." He spoke looking directly at Carla.
Alex sighed, "Well, this is still a good start. When will she be back?"
"In a month or so, sir. But don't worry, the field will be handed to you as soon as she arrives. She doesn't hesitate when it comes to her duties," Richard eyed me and I held his gaze as fiercely as I could.
That was the moment when my doubts were confirmed and hardened. I know exactly who is behind this and why. But for now, I think Carla's smile means a call for celebration.
════∘◦❁◦∘════
(Your POV)
I stepped into my apartment and took a long shower which I had been desiring all day. But at the back of my mind I had a feeling that my feelings of anger and frustration instead of subsiding were about to explode more and that is what happened when I sat down on my sofa with my phone. A call from an unknown number. I picked it up but didn't say anything waiting for the other side to speak.
"Hello? Deniz?"
"Fuck you, Kade! FUCK YOU AND YOUR FAMILY! YOU RICH SNOBBY BASTARD! YOU CREEP! WHY CAN'T YOU LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE! You have dug your claws EVERYWHERE HAVEN'T YOU!? How low can you go? Huh?! PATHETIC!"
"Listen, please. I beg you to listen. If you are so keen to figure out that I did it, why don't you see WHY I did it?! Even these curses that you oh so charmingly bestowed upon me right now, you wouldn't do it Deniz if I hadn't done something, because you don't consider me even worthy of your hate Deniz. And here I am, begging for an ounce of affection-
"I didn't ask you to beg!" Her words don't ever miss a chance to rile me up. Why can't this delusional woman just leave me alone?
"You study at Harvard for God's sake yet you cannot--decipher the meaning of a simple word called NO. Why can't you accept-
"I WON'T ACCEPT IT! EVER!. BECAUSE IT'S BASELESS! Absolutely baseless! I refuse to accept it because I know deep down you don't mean-" She took a deep breath before continuing and I could also hear the sound of wind in the background. Almost as if something was hitting a hard surface and I instantly remembered. 'Yeah of course how did I forget she is using a fucking payphone ever since I blocked all her numbers.' How did I even manage to make her go to these lengths? Should I even blame myself? My therapist said no. Yeah. No Deniz, this isn't your fault. Don't you dare take it upon yourself for the crazy stunts of this bastard princess. Should I blame that whole match? That day, that event, that night?
It happened when I was in high school, part of the girl's cricket team in Southampton. After a match against another school and my striking performance as an outclass bowler, being responsible for taking out 3, star batswomen of the rival team, a girl from the audience approached me. Tall, reeking of elegance and mystery. My team captain, Reece whom I was standing beside at the time with some other teammates seemed to know the Princess as we would come to know later on. They both met through mutual acquaintances at a basketball match and were now very close friends. One thing to mention is that I had a thing for Reece due to her caring, charming and dominating presence on the field. I mean come on, she was quite a looker too with her sharp features and those green calculating eyes, her height, and golden brown hair which she kept mostly in a man bun. I always felt shy for no reason when we all would work out in the school gym and she would always come to scold my posture or cause my already pounding heart to nearly blast out of my chest helping me with her muscled arms and hands. LIKE WOMAN SORRY IF I AIN'T AS BUILT AS YOU! I wanted to scream "Hey! Stop treating me as a baby or if am weaker" But man come on, deep down I loved her care and touch. Can you blame my ass? Anyway, I digress. Back to that "After Match Moment".
Reece introduced her as a longtime childhood buddy and kept her background mostly vague and we were already exhausted after the match so didn't pay any heed anyway but mostly all of the team recognized her as the princess of the fucking land that we were standing on. Even though I was drenched in sweat and overwhelmed by the crowd — mostly parents and teachers and now a fucking princess standing in front, I still noticed Kade's lingering gaze on me. At the time, it was somewhat off-putting, but I decided to let it go. Little did I know how I would be drawn into such a heartless game, not only by Kade but also by Reece. I had trusted Reece as a mentor and a friend, and I even harboured a special affection for her that I never disclosed to anyone or dared to confess to her. Reece was the type of person who had many admirers, and my own insecurities made me feel like I could never compete. She could have anyone she wanted, so I focused on my studies and cricket instead.
After the meeting with Kade, Reece initiated plans for an outing which was very rare for her to do so. It was something Hana did, our wicketkeeper as she was the cheery one, the sunshine and the glue of the team. Others didn't seem to notice Reece's sudden change in demeanour, but I did as whenever we went to Reece's house or somewhere out, she seemed to avoid me in a way that is difficult to describe. Like she would be talking to me but not looking at me?. Also, Kade seemed to always show up and eventually became part of our friend group. Thank God she wouldn't stare at me as she did that night but still lingered around me. I always felt strange when we played cricket in front of her and even with her. She always was eager to ball herself when I used to bat and Reece let her do it first , every time. Kade once fixed my posture when I was batting. Like, excuse me?? I am a professional here. I know how to bat. Are you fucking kidding me?! I wanted to smash the bat on her head. Everyone except Reece thought that it was condescending for her to do that. And the fact that she touched me while doing it.
Bruh.
I too lost my shit at that time and did tell her politely that I know how to bat to which she apologised with a smile and backed off.
Reece straight up once "little sister zoned me" in front of everyone at her cabin during a BBQ and both she and Kade laughed as if it was the funniest shit they ever heard.
What shocked me most was Reece's behaviour few days after that. She really took the role of 'big sister' too seriously. She paid extra attention to me as if babying me and often I would find goodie bags in my locker or doorstep after practices and matches. I was...honestly just fed up. Like what fucking drugs are you on , Captain? First, you ignore me and then--this? Calling me and making me your sister? Giving me gifts? Like it took me so much to bury my feelings about her and she is "platonically love-bombing" me?
One day I had enough and texted her respectfully that I don't want all of this attention and I just wanted to be treated like a teammate as before. And asked her if she---likes me by any chance and she is doing all this to impress me. (Which is the one I hoped at that time of my youth and dumbassery that she would agree with and confess her feelings) Fate had other plans and hell broke loose when she rang me and informed me.
'Look, it's me giving you all that stuff but I ain't the one buying 'em', Dizzy. It's Kade, well she likes you and um--so ever since she told me about her crush on you, she sends me these to give em to you- and Dizzy---I can't say no to my friend ....who is also royalty. You should try to understand. She really really likes you. Trust me. She's a bit--aloof when it comes to expressing it. Especially since it's you." She chuckled lightly. "Honestly, you here made a princess scared of you, be proud of yourself...cuz Kade ain't easy to intimidate.."
That was when my whole world collapsed. So all of this ---bullshit--confusion--and- God...
After that, I confronted Kade face to face as Reece called her to school one day. She remained steadfast and pleaded to give her a chance but I was deep in anger and felt played. Not to forget the fact that dating a fucking royalty was not the thing I was even imagining at that point at 17 years old. Informing your parents you are dating a princess.....nah.
After that, I focused on my studies and game not talking to Reece other than when I had to about the match. I stopped hanging out with her. I hated her. She didn't care anyway as I would later find out from another teammate that Reece looked at me as not her sister but SISTER-IN-FUCKING-LAW! LIKE WOMAN?! During my absence and one of their "Chill Nights", Kade had made it clear to her in front of other teammates that Reece would be her best woman at OUR WEDDING!? Do you get the level of craziness?! THESE TWO WERE MANIACS! Thank God, I graduated somehow and Kade hadn't appeared in my life after the argument with her and neither did her gifts. I also broke off contact with Reece's ass and even rarely talked with other players but they were honestly more supportive and understood my side. However, Kade and Reece's sis-romance was off the charts. Just go marry each other, weirdos.
Fast forward to a few years and voila, Kade is back and more persistent than ever. Even Reece messaged me on instagram that I should get hitched with her as it's better for my future for which I retorted.
'Um, focus on your life, Reece. Heard you've got a league coming up' Yes, she is a national player now. FML. That was my dream too but I am grateful I ain't because she would be playing alongside me. Eugh!
'Also I can make decisions for myself and I don't appreciate people trying to coax me into anything I don't want to do, you know that very well. Match against the Kent Lionesses, 30 sept, 2013? Yes, didn't wanna do a spin, didn't do it and gave u a good 4 wickets. While Tanya was forcing me to do fast bowl. So please, get the fantasy of me being your BFF's wife out of your head.'
She indeed was unhappy but left me on seen after saying you are missing out on a great woman and a great life.
Right. Fuck you too.
Still fast forward to now and Kade is still looking for ways to connect with me and re-enter my life or trying to RUIN the one I have by creating such circumstances which all link back to her. I have blocked so many numbers of her that now she uses payphones.
I need a break.
Back to reality. Oh , she still is rambling.
"Kade?"
The line goes silent. Good, now is my time.
"Bye." And I cut the call and powered off my phone. I immediately sent a text via laptop to Carla that I needed a prolonged leave as I was leaving for my (homeland/town). The perks of having a nice boss is that she agreed and didn't even pry much and soon I booked a flight and got ready to pack.
My mind however kept swirling with other notions. For example, what will happen if I say yes to Kade? What If I just never come back and consult all of this bullshit from the start with my family and come up with a plan to start an undercover life.
My body is so exhausted by the memories and anxiety that i just collapse on the bed and make a mental note to think over this during the flight.
Part II
(AUTHOR'S NOTE: Guys, I wanted to make it clear that I just don't like using (Y/N) in stories as I just hate typing it so I will be mostly naming you, the readers ♡. Yes you , my little family of 10 😭. I would like to know your opinion. Do hang around for further parts. Kade Emsworth's side coming up soon. )
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monratarot · 3 months
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Tarot tips and tricks - Fear indicators
Please like and reblog if you find this information useful! 🌸🎀💕
//don’t claim it as your own and/or repost it on other platforms//
Fear is a natural, instinctual response to a perceived threat or danger. It can manifest as a feeling of unease, stress, or anxiety, and is often accompanied by physical symptoms such as increased heart rate, trembling, and sweating.
Fear can serve as a protective mechanism, alerting us to potential dangers and prompting us to take action to keep ourselves safe.
However, when fear becomes excessive or irrational, it can be debilitating and interfere with daily life. It is important to recognize and address fears in a healthy way, through self-reflection, seeking support from others, and practicing coping strategies to manage and overcome them.
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The Moon card in tarot represents illusion, fear, and the subconscious mind. When it comes to questions about home ownership, drawing the Moon card can indicate potential hidden issues or uncertainties surrounding a property or the buying process. This card encourages you to look beneath the surface and pay attention to your intuition when navigating through the home buying process. It's a reminder to do thorough research, ask the right questions, and seek clarity to avoid potential pitfalls or misunderstandings.
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
The Tower card in tarot is often associated with sudden change, disruption, and upheaval. In the context of questions about home ownership, drawing The Tower may suggest unexpected challenges or major changes in your living situation or real estate plans. Reversed, The Tower can indicate a less severe or avoided disaster, highlighting that the fears and anxieties you have may be exaggerated or unfounded. It serves as a reminder to approach your home buying decisions with a clear mind, address any underlying fears or concerns, and be open to adapting to unexpected changes that may arise in the process.
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
The Nine of Swords in tarot signifies anxiety, worry, and mental anguish. When related to home ownership, drawing this card may indicate overwhelming concerns or fears related to the buying process, financial obligations, or potential problems with a property. This card serves as a reminder to address your fears and anxieties, seek support or guidance when needed, and approach the situation with a clear and rational mindset to alleviate unnecessary stress and concerns.
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
Five of Pentacles in tarot often represents financial hardship, feeling left out in the cold, or struggling with material lack. When it comes to home ownership, drawing this card could suggest concerns about affordability, potential financial challenges, or worries about not being able to meet financial obligations related to buying or maintaining a home. This card encourages you to take a closer look at your financial situation, seek support or advice if necessary, and make informed and practical decisions to ensure stability and security in your housing endeavours.
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
Drawing the Fool card in reverse can symbolize hesitation, fear of the unknown, or an unwillingness to take risks. In the context of home buying, this card might suggest feeling uncertain about making a bold move or being hesitant to take a leap of faith into a new living situation. The reversed Fool card reminds you that while caution is important, sometimes taking calculated risks can lead to valuable opportunities and growth. It encourages you to reevaluate your fears, trust in your instincts, and consider the potential benefits of stepping into the unknown when it comes to housing choices.
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
The Ten of Swords in tarot often signifies a sense of betrayal, loss, or reaching a point of completion or finality. In the context of home buying, drawing this card could indicate fears of financial ruin, concerns about making a poor investment, or anxieties related to the end of a housing situation or agreement. It may suggest a fear of failure or the potential for a challenging outcome in your housing endeavours. This card reminds you to acknowledge your worries and anxieties about endings or difficult transitions, but also to recognize that sometimes closure or letting go of the old can pave the way for new beginnings and opportunities.
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melodygatesauthor · 1 year
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Belonging
Santiago Garcia X f!Reader
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Not Beta Read - Requested By @pimosworld
Kinks - First Time + Claiming/Ownership
Summary:
You and Santi decide to take the next step in your relationship, and that includes a verbal contract.
Tags/Warnings:
NSFW, innocence kink, bdsm themes, express consent, loss of virginity (f), pet names, sex, smut, pwp, p in v creampie, dom santi, sub reader, Dom/sub relationship
Word Count: 951
“You sure about this sweetheart? This is all about consent, I need you to tell me.” Santi said, nuzzling into the nape of your neck and leaving soft kisses along your skin.
“Yes, Santi, I already told you I’m ready for-”
He picked his head up and looked into your eyes, “I know you’re ready for me to take you, but are you ready for me to own you.”
You gulped. When you’d learned about Santiago’s tastes in the bedroom, you hadn’t thought it would be that big of a deal. ‘I’m into the dom sub lifestyle, I hope that’s not a deal breaker’. It wasn’t. You could handle some handcuffs and a little edging. Besides, the idea of Santi being a strong, dominant man was exciting to you. It was more than that though, at least for you two it would be.
He wanted to own you, like you were his property. It was all consensual, of course, and there was no real legal obligation, but you would belong to him. He would be the one in complete control in the bedroom, always dictating the way you play, and you were okay with that. You were inexperienced, and you trusted Santi with every part of you. Of course you would consent to being his and whatever that would entail.
“I’m ready to be yours, Santi,” you said breathlessly from underneath him.
He kissed you deeply, “good. I’m going to go real nice and easy on you since it’s your first time okay? But next time we’re going to go a little further.” You felt the drag of his precum soaked head against your inner thigh as he brought it to your entrance. “When we’re together, you’ll call me sir, and you’re going to be my good little girl, right?”
You gasped when you felt the tip of his fat throbbing cock pressing through your intact hole. You grabbed his arms and dug your nails into his biceps. He let out a soft laugh, leaning down to kiss you again. He was so big, in every sense of the word. You felt like a fragile thing, like if he was a little too rough with you he might split you in half.
“A big part of this is communication, so if you need a break or need me to stop, you just need to tell me alright?” He rested his forehead on yours. You hummed and nodded. “Use your words little girl.”
“Y-yes, sir,” the words rolled off your tongue so naturally, and you liked it.
“Good, that’s really good baby.”
He cupped the back of your head with one hand, and grabbed your hip with the other. Slowly, he slid forward, moving at such a gentle pace that he could feel when your hymen gave out to his large size. You let out a cry, leaning up and grabbing onto him tightly, holding on as though your life depended on it.
“It’s okay, you’re okay, sh.” He held you in return, but he didn’t stop sliding forward, “don’t forget to tell me if it’s too much, okay sweetheart?”
You felt yourself starting to cry, and you choked on the words you tried to say. He let you back onto the pillows, your arms finally loosening around him. He gave you a comforting and affectionate smile. He was fully in now, hips pressed flush against you, cock fully sheathed within your wet and fluttering core.
“Such a sweet little girl, I’m very proud of you for taking me so well baby.”
You whimpered and hiccupped through the tears, “t-thank you, sir.”
He started pulling back, feeling the way your now swollen hole latched on to his girth. He shuddered, you were almost too tight. He felt a swell in his chest at you calling him sir, just like he’d asked. You were perfect, so obedient and willing to be his, and his alone.
“You’re perfect sweetheart, you’re doing such a good job. So fuckin’ tight though. Gotta loosen you up some more okay?”
He rolled forward again, and once more he was met with your pretty little cries. You were so precious, taking him like that despite the agony he knew you felt. He knew it hurt, the pain was easy to see, etched into every expression you made. He kissed you, whispering sweet words against your lips about how strong you were for being able to handle his size, and how beautiful you looked while you did it. 
“You might not be able to come on my cock this time baby, I know it probably hurts way too much. You’ve been such a good little girl, I’ll make sure I take care of you in other ways alright?” He pressed his lips to your cheek.
“Yes, sir. Thank you,” you whined into another deep kiss.
Santi continued to glide back and forth over your walls, filling the room with the creaking of the bed and the sounds of your whimpering sobs. You felt him get harder inside of you after several minutes, and it stung, stretching you out just a little wider. You held onto him tight.
“I’m going to fill you with everything I have okay, and you’re going to-you’re gonna take it like a good little girl, you’re gonna-fuck-ahh.”
Santi fulfilled his promise and pumped your cunt full of his seed, claiming you in more ways than one on that night. It was all new to you, this feeling of security; your sexual gratification in the hands of someone else completely, but you welcomed it, and you couldn’t imagine it with anyone else. Santi made you feel safe, and gave you that sense of belonging that you craved.
Santiago Garcia Masterlist
Triple Frontier Masterlist
Melody's 1k Celebration Masterlist
Melody's 1k Celebration Post
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jacksprostate · 8 months
Text
It happens in Paper Street. Tyler is still gone. The building is oozing with monkeys, but on the upper floors where Tyler and I sleep, I am alone.
I am not alone.
There is two of me. I don't have a twin.
If there's two of me, then there might be two of Tyler.
Tyler would probably think killing myself to monopolize him and his clone is a step closer to bottom.
If there's not two Tylers, I have to kill him anyway.
All of this becomes clear to me in the time it takes for my clone to stare at me and shake his head and get his shit together.
I play it cool. I am so ZEN, he will not realize when I reach over to crush his windpipe.
I say, hey. This is weird.
"Yeah," he says, and my voice is way too loud coming from him. I don't like it. He needs to shut the fuck up. "Is Tyler here?"
I ask him, do you think Tyler would know why the universe broke? I ask him like he's asked me if Tyler would like to take a nice little shopping trip through the local designer stores and pay off the companies' tax breaks by giving hundreds to their check out charity.
I think Tyler would know why the universe broke, of course. He'd be the one to break it. Maybe this is another one of Tyler's little tests. This new version of me seems less certain of that fact, more like he's looking for his daddy's coattails, and now I really can't wait to punch his teeth out of his skull. He doesn't have the hole in his cheek, and I can see him watching it wink when I talk. He looks like a jealous rat.
We must both be Joe's Clenching Bowels.
I ask him, do you think we're different? Maybe there's a butterfly effect. Parallel universes. There has to be a reason he's so pathetic.
"I'm sure we are," he says, like he's telling his boss about sawing cross tips into bullets. Touching.
How'd you meet Tyler?
"On the plane. He gave me his number. Called him after my condo blew up."
I smile. I met him on a nude beach. He gave me his number. I called him after my condo blew up. Every word after nude turns my copy's face a bit ruddy, little tectonic nudges to the ring of fire.
"What were you doing on a nude beach?" he spits. "Gargling your boss's balls?"
Watching Tyler. Naked and sweaty, muscles flexing as he pulled around driftwood and pilings to sit in his own hand of perfection. I know I sound like a priest that wants to keep God for himself. I am.
"You're a fag," he says.
I think of my birthmark on my foot. I think of Tyler. I think of Marla. I think of how stupid this version of me is, to pretend he wouldn't get on his knees just for the chance of a taste of Tyler. Is that not how he got the kiss I can see on his hand? His Tyler must have had to lower his standards.
Best not to accuse others of things you're guilty of, I say. I'm willing to face any number of uncomfortable truths if it will get rid of him, I realize.
He's flustered. "No, no, it's not —" he waves his hands. "It's not like that with me and him. No."
Yes it is. It's not love as in caring, sure.
I step closer.
It's property as in ownership.
This must be why Tyler likes it. I see myself wither like a guy kicked in the balls on the first night he attends fight club.
I could be over that table every night for Tyler, I say. You would just be jealous. Just like you're jealous of Marla. Of that one pretty kid you probably pummeled into the ground too. Or did you not even have the balls for that?
Eliminate the competition. Face the truth only to drive it deeper into this jammed copy of myself. Win Tyler's affections. I have already seen the bones in my yard, I can tell, he has not.
One of us is committed. I pull my human sacrifices out of my pocket, throw them at him. One of us wants this. I get in his stupid face.
It's not you.
He swings at me, I'm fighting to the death.
"Tyler isn't here, is he?" he taunts me.
"Tyler left you."
"He doesn't want you anymore."
All things true, but maybe not once I kill you.
I am the abandoned dog, performing tricks so its owner will come home. I am myself, calling my father and telling him about graduating college, like it means fuck all to him. I am myself, pushing onto that next step on his list, anyway. Tyler's my new list, and he wants murder. I've known it. I'll face it.
He gets me in a headlock, hits me over and over, opening up that hole in my cheek. I go limp, drag him down, flip him over myself and grab his throat. I slam his head into the ground. It's soft, moldy wood, not concrete, so I have to start squeezing, instead.
Death will commence in five.
Five, four.
He's gasping, slamming his palm into my nose, breaking it over and over.
Four, three.
Three, two.
His body is shaking under mine. Seizing. He has the primordial strength of a man about to die, and I have the primordial strength of a man about to live.
Death will commence in two.
His eyes are rolling back. I can feel his throat giving in.
No more chance for breaths. It crumbles beneath my hands like the ribcage of a hummingbird.
No chances for evacuation.
Death commences.
Now.
On the upper floors of Paper Street, I am alone.
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borathae · 2 years
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↳ Index [Day 07 - Shower Sex]
Pairing: sub!Namjoon x soft dom!Reader
Kinks: male masturbation in the shower, getting walked in on, handjob, edging, cumplay, spit, some dirty talk, good boy kink, praises, sweet aftercare
Wordcount: 2.3k
a/n: subby Namjoon can be something so personal, uff. Enjoy besties 🖤
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The water has steamed up the mirrors by now, leaving behind a foggy imprint on the glass and windows as well. The humidity lies heavy in the air, breathing is hard, the scent of his shower gel fills up the small room. 
“Fuck”, Namjoon presses out, eyes squeezed shut and shoulders heaving up and down quickly. His left hand is propped against the wet shower tiles. The water is hot, running down his back and soaking his hair. It has gotten so long these days, now hanging into his face and eyes in thick, heavy strands. 
He knows that he has to be quick. Not long anymore and you will be back. He has to finish before that. Oh, if only it didn’t feel so fucking good. He doesn’t want it to stop.
“Fucking shit, right there”, he moans, squeezing his long fingers around the throbbing tip of his cock. The veins on his shaft feel swollen under his fingers, pulsating each time he runs his punishing hand over it. He is so sensitive. So goddamn sensitive.
“You can get there, Namjoon”, he tells himself, “think of her. Fuck. Just her. All of her”, he croaks, knees buckling as a wave of hot pleasure rushes through him. His cock throbs heavy in his hand, his balls feel so fucking tight, “Madam, oh Madam”, he moans, thinking of you. 
He thinks of how it feels to be with you, to have you on top of him, to have you take his pleasure into your hands and make his orgasms yours. Your property, your thing. Yours. His highs are yours and Namjoon knows that if you caught him jerking off like that, you’d be disappointed. He takes that ownership from you and he feels like the biggest traitor doing it.
The thought turns him on so much, the possibility of you walking in on him makes him almost want to scream into his arm. He doesn’t. Instead he tightens the grip around his heavy cock and quickens the movements. 
He is leaking like crazy. He had to use his spit in the beginning, covering his own hand with it to touch himself. He long stopped needing it, leaking his own lubrication. Constant and never ending, his translucent pleasure is seeping out of him and dripping onto the tiled floor. Namjoon can’t distinguish the droplets from the drops of water, but quite frankly he doesn’t care. All he cares about is getting off. Quick, fast and good. 
You’re still not home, still busy with your grocery shopping. It was your turn this week and you said your goodbye with a sweet kiss on his lips and a promise of his favourite meal later. And Namjoon thought you looked fucking beautiful. So goddamn beautiful that all he could think about as he waited for you to return was you and how beautiful you’d look as you played with his body. And it made him ache. Oh, ache so terribly much that he had to flee into the shower and touch himself. His cock was hard in an instant, laying heavy in his trembling hand and sending bolts of angry pleasure through his veins. 
“Madam…feels so good”, he moans, imagining his hand to be yours. You are always so gentle with how you touch him. Gentle but at the same time so cruel. You don’t go as rough as he does, you go slow. Oh, so slow. So goddamn slow that Namjoon always feels like crying before you even as much as consider releasing him of the pressure in his stomach. 
Namjoon feels like such a traitor, because right now he doesn’t want to go slow. He wants to go fast, hard, rough. Angry. He wants to jerk his cock to the point where he has to grind his teeth and fuck the air. He wants to touch himself to the point where simple droplets of water hitting his skin make him want to fucking burst. 
“A-ah”, Namjoon moans shakily, knees buckling again and forcing his body to almost collide with the wall. He stops himself before he can, arching his back and resting his forehead against his bend arm, “holy fuck, urgh, fuck. That’s the spot”, he growls, grinding his teeth. He is massaging his frenulum, using his thumb for it. The spot feels as hot as fire, burning up in pleasure and filling his veins with electricity. His entire lower body feels it. Hot and burning. Fuck, seriously, he’s burning up. The water’s so hot too, making him sweat even now that he is under it. 
He knows what that means. He’s going to fucking cum. And it’s going to feel so goddamn good. 
Namjoon speeds up his hand, feeling the muscles in his arm protesting for a break. He ignores it, fights through the pain. He has to cum. That’s all he has to do. He has to cum. 
“A-ah please”, he gets out, voice slightly pitched in bliss, “please god, please”, he is so used to begging you that even now when alone he can’t stop himself from begging. Namjoon feels weak-kneed at the realisation that you trained him so well that begging for his release comes as such instinct to him.
“Please what, huh?” 
Namjoon freezes up, ripping open his eyes just in time to watch two hands dance their way to the front of his torso. The touch feels like electricity. A kiss to his back follows then soft boobs squish themselves against it.
You are back. He has been caught. 
Namjoon gulps, squeezing the base of his cock to force the orgasm down again even if that makes him ache.
“Now do you wanna tell me what you are doing here?” you ask him, playing with the faint happy trail running down his tummy. 
“I, I”, Namjoon gets out, feeling lost for words. His heart is racing like crazy. He is so excitedly nervous.
“Is my good boy acting up, hm?” you taunt, burying your fingers in his neatly trimmed pubes to give them a soft tug.
His cock throbs in reaction, aching for your touch. Namjoon has to squeeze himself tighter, furrowing his brows.
“I didn’t, uhm, I-I wasn’t. I didn’t know you’d be back already”, he stutters. 
You click your tongue, “oh Joonie”, you say, dancing your fingers down along his groin, "that’s not how I trained you, is it?"
“I’m sorry”, he says without hesitation, “please don’t be mad.”
“Mad?” the chuckle you let out makes his skin prickle, “dear, I’m not mad. Just disappointed. Didn’t you promise me to be such a good boy while I’m gone?” 
“Yes, but- ah!” Namjoon forgets everything he wanted to say, knees truly wobbling and head tilting back as your hand wraps itself around his cock. 
He lets his own slip from it, gripping the wall as strongly as possible. 
“Ah, p-please, ah”, he moans loudly, keeping his lips parted afterwards as closing them would require too much power, which he currently doesn’t possess. You are touching him and it feels like actual heaven. 
“Please what, Joonie? Use your words”, you taunt, rolling your wrist as you feel up his entire length. 
“Don’t stop.”
“Now tell me why I shouldn’t”, you say, doing the unthinkable and letting go of him. 
Namjoon squirms, falling deeper into your arms as the agony of a denied orgasm washes over him. Your touch brought him close so fast and now it’s gone again. Oh, Namjoon is suffering the consequences of his own actions. He knows that if he hadn’t acted up, you wouldn’t have to edge him right now. 
“Please Madam”, he begs, touching your wrist in an attempt to sway your heart.  
You wrap your fingers around him again, going fast and calculated. You want him to know that today, he won’t get any mercy from you, caressing his tensing tummy as you do.
“Oh g-god”, Namjoon gets out, holding onto your arm which you have so tightly wrapped around his waist. He is whimpering so much, his normally deep voice is just slightly pitched. It suits him, makes him sound like the cute, little good boy that he actually was. 
You trail kisses along his spine, eyes closed in the pleasure of being so close to him. Truth be told, you were planning on asking him if he wanted to play later. What better way to really get into the mood then by finding him wet, naked, panting and with his hand around his cock in your shower. Truly, there was no ounce of hesitation in you on whether or not you should join him. You want this man like crazy.
Namjoon twitches in your hand, covering your fingers in a nice layer of precum. The slip becomes easier for just a few seconds then the water washes it away again, beginning the game of touch and reaction anew. It’s your favourite game to play, especially when the outcome is Namjoon whimpering about how close he’s getting. Again. 
You release his cock, dancing your hand down to his balls to squeeze them softly. They feel so swollen and plump between your fingers, throbbing desperately now that you are denying them so cruelly. 
“Please”, Namjoon begs, chasing you with desperate hips. 
“You know why I have to do this to you, don’t you, Joonie?” you ask him, tracing his tummy with nothing but your fingernails. 
“Yes, yes I do. Please Madam please”, he pleads, “I’m really, really sorry.”
“Yeah? You are?” you ask him, wrapping your hand around his sensitive cock. You go fast and rough again, not wanting to waste any time. You are in no mood to grant him any kind of mercy today, you need him to shake and writhe just for you. 
“Yes”, he gets out, “so s-sorry, ah Madam”, he moans, hands falling back against the shower tiles now that standing up straight is so difficult. He forces his eyes open, staring at his cock with blown out pupils. Now that he sees the movement to the sensations, he swears he could bust right here and now. He keens for you, bucking into your hand and revealing himself that way. 
Your touch ceases to exist. 
“Fuck darling, please”, he lets out, laughing not because he is happy but because he is suffering so much that he has to laugh through the pain, “please not again”, he pleads, fucking the air weakly. His cock is dripping so much, looking so swollen now that is standing so edged and desperate. Water runs down along his shaft, dripping onto the floor. 
“You’re so much fun, Joonie”, you say, hugging his middle and kissing his back. 
“Please back”, he begs, “please, need it so bad.”
“Mhhm, handsome”, you sigh, kissing his shoulder blade and wrapping your hand back around his desperate cock. 
He whimpers, furrowing his brows. You start off slow, but begin jacking him off fast soon. The wetness of his desperation and the water makes the nastiest squelching sounds as you run your skilled hand over his swollen cock. 
“Please don’t edge me anymore”, he mewls, “please I-I’ll be good, just don’t edge me anymore please.”
“Yeah? You’ll be good?” you ask him, speeding up. Your arm hugs him tighter, your lips dance over his shoulder, your teeth tickle his skin as you nibble on him softly, “you’ll be my good boy from now on?” 
“Yes, good boy. I’ll be a good boy”, Namjoon promises, nodding his head vigorously, “please don’t edge me anymore, please oh god so close, please.”
“It’s so cute, you’re close. You’re so cute when you’re sensitive”, you praise him, massaging his frenulum because you know he fucking loves that shit. 
Namjoon curls in on himself, hands falling to shower valve and head falling against them. Like this his butt is grinding right against your crotch and his back creates the prettiest of arches. 
“Please don’t stop, please. I can’t take it anymore p-please”, he keens, fucking into your hand with desperate movements. 
“I’m not gonna let go”, you promise, “go on, be my good boy and let go”, you order, twisting your hand around his tip and throwing him over the edge. 
Namjoon tries and fails to moan your name, croaking out your first syllable before falling silent and squeaking for air. His cock throbs angrily, covering the shower tiles in his creamy cum. It runs down along the ridges of the tiles, covering the floor as well. 
“That’s it baby, that’s it”, you encourage him, jerking him off through his shakes, “cum for me. Such a good boy, you look so pretty when you cum.”
Namjoon mewls and keens, writhing in your hold. His voice sounds desperate, nervous even. 
“Madam”, he croaks, fleeing your touch to no avail. 
“Hush, it’s okay. I know it’s a lot, but I have to make sure you remember to be good”, you say, jerking him through his burning overstimulation. 
“God, oh god, oh god”, Namjoon chants, “god please.”
“Almost there sweetie, almost there”, you soothe him, giving him three more jerks before finally letting go of him. You hug his waist, running your soil hand up and down his torso, “good job, you’re already done.”
“Oh my god”, Namjoon gets out, turning in your arms just to fall against you in a tight hug. His face is nuzzled into your neck, his arms are so strong around you, “thank you so much. I'm dead."
“You’re so cute. Come on, why don’t we step outta this shower, dry up and then cuddle in bed?” you suggest, caressing his back. 
“Yeah, but only if I can thank you properly”, he says, pulling your hips into him. His cock is still terribly hard, now rubbing against your tummy. 
“I can’t say no to that tempting offer, can I?” you say, tilting your head just to beam at him.
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hockey-fics · 1 year
Text
Next Summer ~ Brock Boeser 
Summary: The summers spent at your family’s cabin were some of your favourite memories. When you return as an adult you discover that maybe not everything from the past was really left in the past. 
Word Count: ~5,300
Warnings: Drinking, implied smut (I guess, but it’s very fleeting and vague)
Traditions didn’t hold a huge place in your life growing up. Every Christmas you bounced from one relative’s home to another. Thanksgiving dinners almost never looked the same. Cousins and aunts and uncles would come and go, years of family dinners and holiday gatherings would go by before you would see them again. 
But there was always one thing that you looked forward to each and every year. Every summer, for two and a half months, you would drive down from your home in the suburbs to the cabin on the lake. You would get to forget about school and homework and bedtimes. You would spend all day out in the summer sun, sticky with sunscreen and bug spray. 
Your family wasn’t the only one. Each of those cabins along that shoreline would come alive. The quiet beaches would fill with children, adults on decks drinking a few hours before it became socially acceptable anywhere else. Dark nights would be brightened by campfires and beams from unsteady flashlights, held onto by kids who should have been in bed long ago. 
There was a sense of peace that was brought on by that property. Time moved slower, everyone seemed happier, things felt easier. But as time went on you started spending less and less time out there. You went away to university. You became busy with internships and jobs and leases that didn’t end for the few months of summer. 
But eventually the property lost the interest of your parents. With no children at home, familiar friends who once had cabins up there selling them off, the time and energy and money to take care of it no longer seemed to be worth it. You yourself hadn’t been there in a couple years, though the memories were as vivid as always. So when the option of them gifting the property to you came up it took little consideration for you to say yes. 
After packing your car full of essentials you headed up to the cabin shortly after the exchange of ownership. When you pull up to the familiar cabin there’s a sense of ease that washes over you, even now that you had a truckload of responsibility to go with coming up here. 
Hoping out of the car you bring everything inside, the memories flooding in. After putting your groceries in the kitchen, sheets on the bed, and pulling the patio couch cushions out you head out onto the deck to enjoy the fresh air and slight breeze rolling in off the lake. 
A few minutes after flopping down onto the patio furniture you’re greeted by a big white dog, tail wagging crazily as he stares up at you. 
“Hey buddy,” you say, reaching over and scratching him behind the ear. “Where did you come from?”
“Milo.”
Tipping your head up you look in the direction of the man calling for who you would guess to be the dog that was standing in front of you. Standing up you walk towards the edge of your deck, the dog following after you, nose nudging at your hand. “I think-,” you begin, freezing when you notice who was standing in the yard next to you. “Oh my god,” you laugh, hurrying down the stairs. “You’re still around, hey?”
You grew up with Brock. At least for two months of the year every summer. You were the same age and his family owned the property next door. The crush you had on Brock spanned from early in your life right up till the last summer you spent together right after high school graduation. 
“Holy shit,” Brock comments, shaking his head. He has his arms around you as soon as you’re close enough for him to reach you. “Of course I’m still around, I’m out here every summer. You’re the one who vanished.”
Pulling back you look up at Brock, shaking your head. “Sorry, we don’t all have an off-season.”
“I guess you’ve got a point,” Brock chuckles. “Just out here for the weekend then?”
“I don’t really know what I’m doing,” you admit. “The place is mine now and I work remotely so I guess I could be out here as long as I want but I don’t know, it feels weird to think about being here that long again.”
“Yours, hey?” Brock states, glancing behind you at the house. “Are your parents okay?”
“Oh, yeah,” you assure him. “Just not as interested in getting drunk on the lake everyday of the summer anymore.”
Brock laughs, glancing out at the lake before turning his attention back to you. “Well I’m glad it’s yours now, wouldn’t want to see anyone else here.”
You couldn’t deny the way he still managed to fill your stomach with butterflies, even all these years. “Me too,” you say, voice quiet. Glancing down you pet the dog again that had still not left your side. 
“I see you’ve met Milo,” Brock comments, glancing over his shoulder and pointing to the second dog that was laying under the shade of a tree. “That one’s Coolie.”
“They’re very cute,” you tell him, smiling down at Milo. “How long are you up here for?”
Brock shrugs, like time didn’t mean anything to him. “Till sometime in August.”
“So I guess we have plenty of time to catch up then.”
“Absolutely,” Brock says with a smile. “You want to come over for a drink or something?”
“I’d be down for a drink.”
You follow Brock across the yard and onto the deck, accepting the can of cider he offers before sitting down on the soft cushions of one of the patio cushions. “So, what’s new in your life?”
Brock shrugs, flopping down onto the patio sectional, Milo joining him seconds later. “Not too much, I guess. Just been in Vancouver for the last while playing for the Canucks.”
You can’t help but laugh at his comment. “Well I know that much, can’t exactly stay under the radar as a professional athlete.”
“I guess,” Brock chuckles. “What about you though, you seem to be staying under the radar pretty well.”
“Gotta keep a little mystery…or my life just isn’t that exciting, I don’t know. I got my degree, moved back to Minnesota and now I’m just working from home…living the life, really,” you joke. 
“I can’t imagine you not making life exciting.”
Rolling your eyes playfully you take a sip of your drink. “Why’s that? Because I used to steal my parent’s alcohol and try to convince everyone to go swimming in the middle of the night?”
“Well that was pretty exciting back then,” Brock laughs. 
“Are you out here alone?” you ask, looking towards the cabin. It was pretty quiet for anyone else to be here but you almost couldn’t imagine Brock ever being alone. 
“Yeah, for now,” Brock nods. “My, um, my mom doesn’t really come up very much anymore.”
“Right,” you say quietly. You hadn’t talked to Brock in a very long time, but that didn’t mean you didn’t know anything about his life, including his father. 
“I have a few friends coming up in a few days though,” Brock tells you, his inflection rising, an obvious attempt to change the topic. 
“Uh oh,” you joke with a playful smile. “Sounds like trouble.”
“Hey, now, I’ve never been trouble,” Brock defends, laughing under his breath. 
“I don’t know about that one,” you tease. 
The two of you sit on Brock’s deck, drink after drink as you exchanged stories from the nearly 10 years since the last time you saw each other. You didn’t even realize how long had passed or how late it had gotten till the sun was beginning to set and you realized your mind was hazy from the alcohol. 
“I guess I should get going, don’t want to overstay my welcome,” you say, finishing off the last of the drink you had in your hand. 
“You never could,” Brock tells you, taking the empty can from your hand as you stand up. “But I won’t hold you here either.”
“I appreciate that,” you laugh, glancing back to your cabin. “I should probably go figure out dinner though.”
“Fair enough,” Brock chuckles. “See you tomorrow?”
“I’m sure you will,” you tell him, heading down the steps of the deck and back over to your own house. 
After making yourself a late dinner you head to bed, your mind unable to think of much more than Brock. It was clear that your feelings for him hadn’t entirely disappeared. But eventually you manage to clear your mind enough to fall asleep, sleeping peacefully through the night till the sun shining through the blinds in your room wakes you up. 
You make yourself some breakfast before dragging your laptop out onto the deck with your mug of coffee to get some work done for the day. It’s not long before your attention is broken by the sound of Brock’s voice, calling after his dogs as they run out the door and towards the lake. 
Smiling you watch the dogs for a few minutes as they splash around in the shallow water of the lake. When you look away from them you see Brock looking in your direction, raising his hand in a friendly wave. 
“Morning,” you call to him, sitting up straighter to look over the edge of the patio railing as Brock comes closer. 
“How was your first night back out here?”
“It was great,” you tell him. “Do you want some coffee?”
Brock’s eyes shift to your laptop before looking back at you. “I don’t want to interrupt you if you’re working.”
Shrugging you push yourself away from the table to stand up. “I’ve been missing the interruptions you get working in an office anyway,” you tell him with a smile. “Do you want anything in it?”
“Some cream if you have it.” Brock makes his way up the steps of the deck, sitting down at the table across from you as you return with a mug of coffee for him. “Got any plans for after work?”
“Not really,” you tell him, sitting back down and looking over your laptop at him. 
“I just bought a couple stand-up paddle boards a few weeks ago. Would you want to come test them out with me?”
“As long as you promise not to laugh at me when I fall off.”
“I promise,” Brock chuckles. “You can get back to your work if you want, I don’t want to distract you.”
“Hard not to be distracted by you,” you tell him, a playful smile on your lips. 
“Well I’m always happy to be your distraction.”
After Brock finishes his coffee he heads back to his own place, giving you a chance to actually get some uninterrupted work time in. It’s nearly 5 when you wrap up everything you had to finish for the day. Changing out of the pyjamas you had spent the better half of the day in you tug a pair of shorts over a bikini, heading across the yard to Brock’s place. 
With the garage door wide open you step into it, watching Brock doing kettlebell swings. 
“Enjoying the view?” Brock asks, looking at you through the mirror when he finishes up his set. 
“Well I can’t say I’m not enjoying it,” you tell him, glancing around the garage turned gym. “This is pretty impressive, I remember when this place was filled with bikes and beach toys.”
Brock turns around to face you, wiping a layer of sweat from his forehead. “I needed to have something out here to train if I want to spend this long out here.”
“Makes sense. Well, I can get out of here to stop distracting you, when did you want to go out on the paddle boards?”
“I’m just finishing up here, I’ll probably go have a shower before we head out.”
“Do I get to enjoy that view too?” you joke. 
Brock chuckles, reaching down to pick up the kettlebell again. “I wouldn’t stop you.”
Shaking your head you take a step out of the garage. “I’ll meet you down at the beach when you’re ready.”
“Okay, see you in a bit,” Brock says as you head out of the garage. 
Finding a beach towel you head out onto the end of the dock that was connected to your yard, laying it out and shimmying out of your shorts. Laying down on your stomach you rest your head on your arms, enjoying the way the sun felt like a warm blanket cloaked over your body. 
It’s not long before you hear Brock calling your name and you roll onto your back, looking down to the end of the dock. 
“Ready to go?” Brock calls. 
Collecting your things from the dock you hurry down to meet Brock, following him to grab the paddle boards before heading to the edge of the lake. The water is surprisingly warm for July and you climb onto your paddle board with a shocking amount of ease. 
After steadying yourself the two of you begin to paddle along the shoreline, your conversation falling to quick comments here and there as you focus intensely on keeping yourself upright. By the time you make it back to the section of the lake in front of your house you’re more than ready to follow Brock’s lead and sit down on the board, floating easily on the still water. 
“You’re pretty good at this,” Brock tells you. 
Your legs are crossed in front of you, arms behind you on the board as you lean back into them. “Guess my balance is better than I expected.”
“I’m kind of disappointed I didn’t get to see you fall in.”
“Oh, you want to see me get wet?” you joke.
“I-I, that’t…well, I mean, I-,” Brock stammers, shaking his head as he gives up on his sentence. 
“I’ll take that as a yes,” you tease, giggling as you stretch your legs out in front of you. “What are your plans for tonight?”
Brock hesitates for a second, eyes narrowing. “Are you hinting at something?”
It takes you a moment to realize what was going on, reaching down and running your hand through the lake to splash Brock. “No,” you laugh, shaking your head. “I was going to see if you wanted to come over for dinner.”
“Oh,” Brock laughs, eyes diverting down to the surface of the lake, cheeks flushing red. “Yeah, dinner sounds great.”
After putting the paddle boards away you and Brock head over to your place, digging through the kitchen to try to figure out what to make for dinner. You hadn’t really thought through your plan, inviting Brock over before you even know what you would make for dinner. 
“You’ve been in the fridge for awhile,” Brock comments, sitting at the bar counter on the other side of the kitchen, watching you curiously. 
Sighing you turn around, shutting the door behind you. “I don’t actually know what to make,” you admit. 
“I can tell,” Brock laughs. “What are the options?”
“Whatever is in the fridge,” you tell him, gesturing to it. 
Brock slides off the stool, walking across the kitchen to pull the fridge open. His eyes scan the shelves for a few minutes before slowly turning towards you. “Do you need me to go to the grocery store for you tomorrow or something?”
Rolling your eyes you push yourself between Brock and the fridge, your back pressing against him as you join him in staring into the nearly empty fridge. “Look, I know it’s bad but I didn’t plan to stay more than a night or two.”
“And were you planning on only eating eggs and spinach for three days?”
“Maybe,” you hum. “I didn’t plan to have dinner guests I would need to impress.”
“You don’t need to impress me,” Brock whispers, his hands falling to your hips. “Now will you agree to come have dinner at my place instead?”
Your mind tunes in to the feeling of Brock’s hands on your body, your heart hammering heavily in your chest. While you were so caught up in your thoughts you realized you hadn’t answered the question within a length of time that was even remotely normal. “Uh, yeah, sure, that sounds good.”
Brock steps back, his hands falling from your hips and leaving your body longing for more. Sighing to yourself you fish a bottle of wine out from otherwise bare fridge, hurrying after Brock. 
It’s not long before you’re standing next to Brock, a glass of white wine in your hand while you watch him barbecue a couple steaks. “Was inviting me over just a scheme to get me to feel bad for you and cook you dinner?”
“I wish I was that calculated.” Bringing your glass to your lips you take a small sip, gravitating a little closer to Brock. “I like how this worked out though.”
“Yeah, I’m sure you do,” Brock teases, reaching over and wrapping his arm around your waist, tugging you into his side. 
You let out a shaky breath, fingers clutching tighter onto your wine glass. With your heart racing you try to act natural, like your stomach wasn’t absolutely alive with butterflies, like your thoughts weren’t racing a million miles an hour about nothing but Brock. 
“You okay?” Brock asks, the smirk on his face was enough to tell you that he knew exactly what he was doing to you. 
“Fuck off,” you laugh, shaking your head. “You’re so used to this aren’t you?”
“What do you mean?” Brock laughs, eyebrows furrowed as he looks away from the barbecue to turn his attention to you. 
“Tall, handsome hockey player who can get women to absolutely fall apart like it’s nothing,” you tease. 
“I’m not that tall,” Brock comments, pulling the steak off the barbecue. 
“Oh, but you know how handsome you are.” 
Brock gives you a simple shrug, chuckling as he picks up the plate of steak, letting you go to head back inside. Rolling your eyes you follow Brock back into the house, refilling your wine glass before leaning against the counter. 
“I’m actually surprised you don’t have a girlfriend,” you comment, watching Brock plate up the steak and salad the two of you had made earlier. 
“Why’s that?” Brock asks, setting the plates down on the table next to the large window that overlooks the lake. 
“I just told you why outside, you just want to hear me talk about how great you are,” you joke, sitting down at the table across from Brock. 
“Well I could say the same thing about you,” Brock retorts, switching the conversation around onto you. 
“Because I’m a tall, handsome hockey player?” you joke, taking another drink from your wine. 
Brock shakes his head with a breath of laughter. “Seriously, weren’t you with someone for quite awhile?” 
Nodding slowly you inhale deeply, polishing off what was left in your glass of wine. 
“That bad, hey?” Brock asks, reaching for the bottle of wine to refill your glass. 
“No…I mean, yeah, I guess, I don’t know,” you sigh, picking up your newly refilled glass. “We were together for three years in university.”
Brock nods, taking a bite of his dinner, evidently waiting for you to continue to fill in the details of your vague story. 
“It wasn’t a big deal,” you assure him with a breath of laughter. “I’m just glad it ended when it did.”
“For what it’s worth I’m pretty glad it ended as well.”
Scoffing you raise your eyebrows, shaking your head. “Why?” you ask, already well aware of why. 
“Well I don’t think I’d get to be sitting here having dinner with you right now if you were still with him.”
Tipping your head to the side you gaze across the table, a soft smile on your lips. “Does that mean there’s something more than friendly happening here, Brock?”
“I’ve had some more than friendly thoughts,” Brock admits. 
You can feel your cheeks reddening, looking down at the table. “Oh,” you mutter. 
“Sorry, I, was that too much or-.”
“No, no,” you interrupt, breathing out a nervous laugh. “Just, um, been awhile since I’ve flirted with anyone.”
“There’s no way that’s true.”
“Yes it is,” you exclaim, laughing quietly. “I honestly don’t meet a lot of new people and I don’t usually make it a habit of flirting with my friends.”
“I’m glad you made an exception.”
Laughing softly you pick up your glass of wine, taking another sip, enjoying the warm buzz the alcohol was filling you with. “Me too,” you whisper as you set it down, gazing over at Brock. 
Finally you two finish the dinner that had been nearly forgotten amidst the conversation. After the dishes are done you head out onto the deck to continue your conversation. Before long the sun is set and the bottle of wine is empty. After another goodbye that you know won’t be for long you head back to your own house, falling asleep easily to the sound of the waves crashing onto the shore through the open window. 
The next few days leading up to the weekend feel busier than any days you had in a long time. After work you would join Brock for some activity or another. A trip into town to properly stock your fridge. An evening on the boat. More paddle boarding and kayaking and even partaking in a couple sessions in Brock’s home gym. 
And before you knew it you had finished up your work from the week, time seeming to be flying by now that you were spending it with Brock. 
Friday night. You hadn’t expected your Fridays to remain as exciting after leaving the city. But you also didn’t expect to be spending it with Brock and a handful of his friends. 
“Still impressed with your Spikeball skills, to be honest,” Jack says, standing next to you by the fire, a bottle of beer in his hand. You had spent the afternoon fighting to keep up in many competitive rounds of Spikeball on the beach, something you did better than even you had expected you would do. 
“I’m kind of offended by how much you underestimated me,” you laugh. Lifting your red solo cup filled with tequila and grapefruit soda wincing at the flavour, the ratio of tequila to mixer so off it would make a bartender cry. 
“Sorry, I promise I won’t do it again,” Jack chuckles. “I’ll make sure we’re always on the same team from now on.”
“Good,” you say, extending your hand to shake his on the agreement. “We can be a power duo.”
“Power couple,” Jack comments with a smirk. 
Rolling your eyes playfully you take another gulp of your drink. “Pretty bold of you.”
“What can I say? I’m a bold guy.”
Before you can get another comment in you feel a hand run along your lower back, stopping on your waist. With a slight flinch you turn your head, body relaxing when you realize it was Brock, though you were still a little surprised by the physical contact. Brock places his fingers under your chin, tipping your head back so you were looking up at him. You don’t even have time to process what’s happening before he’s pressing a soft and quick kiss to your lips. 
“H-hi,” you stammer, voice soft as your cheeks redden. “What, um, what’s going on?”
“Just coming to check on you,” Brock whispers. 
“Shit, sorry man,” Jack mutters to Brock, nervous eyes shifting back to the fire you were all standing around. 
“Don’t worry about it,” Brock tells him dismissively. “Want to come with me to get another drink?” Brock asks you. 
With a quick nod you let Brock take your hand in his, guiding you around the fire and up into the quiet cabin. 
“Okay, what the fuck was that, Brock?” you exclaim, now in the privacy of the kitchen. 
“I-,” Brock begins, shaking his head. “Have I been reading this wrong? I thought…I thought…haven’t we been flirting since you got here?”
“I mean, yes,” you exhale. “But what the fuck was that? Why’d you choose that moment to kiss me?”
“I’m sorry,” Brock mumbles, swallowing heavily. “But you two were flirting and I didn’t want to lose you and I-.”
“I wasn’t flirting with him.” Stepping closer you reach up, your hands on either side of Brock’s face. “You have to trust that I would never do anything with your friends.” Rolling forward onto your toes you lean closer to Brock, your lips brushing against his. “Okay?”
“Okay,” Brock mutters before kissing you again. It’s longer this time, your lips moving with his as you wrap one arm around his shoulders. Brock runs one hand around your back, tugging your body closer as his tongue brushes against yours. He’s pushing you against the kitchen counter a second later, your head spinning with the mix of overwhelming emotions and the effects of the tequila. 
A strangled moan emanates from your throat just before you hear the crashing of the cabin door closing. Pulling back from Brock you stare up at him with a guilty smile, as if you were still just a couple teenagers sneaking around at the summer cabin. 
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt,” Sam declares, taking a step back towards the door. 
“No, no, you’re good,” you assure him. “We were just, um, about to head back out.”
“Were we?” Brock asks, voice quiet as he places his hands on your hips, pulling your back into his chest. 
With a quiet giggle you tip your head back, looking up at Brock. “We can pick his back up later,” you assure him. 
Back outside you let Brock pull you onto his lap on one of the chairs around the fire. You knew it was some drunken, misplaced desire to exert the fact that there was indeed something happening between the two of you that was more than just friendly. 
The rest of the night is spent in loud conversations, rambunctious laughter echoing off the still lake. By the time the night is over and people begin trickling off to head inside you’re more than ready to have some time alone with Brock.
“I’m going to head home now, want to walk over there with me?” you ask Brock before standing up.
“Yeah, of course,” Brock replies taking your hand and walking back to your cabin. 
Inside you take Brock’s other hand, tugging him closer. “Do you want to spend the night here?” 
“Yes,” Brock replies quickly before pressing his lips to yours again, kissing you with an eagerness that you quickly matched. 
Before long the two of you had stumbled your way up to your room, the silence of the cabin being interrupted by the sounds of your moans.
Laying breathlessly next to Brock, your body flushed and tired, you can’t help but begin to worry about the implications of the situation. Was this just because you were both drunk? Did he really have feelings for you or was this all just because of the alcohol? 
After tugging some pyjamas on and using the bathroom you crawl back into bed with Brock, resting your head on his shoulder, arm over his chest. “Can I ask you something?” 
“Of course,” Brock hums, running his fingers along your back. 
“Do you, um…was this, I just,” you stammer, finally pulling yourself away from him, sitting up and staring across the dark room at the slice of moonlight that was shining on the wall through the curtains. “Was this just a meaningless hook-up? Because I actually have feelings for you,” you admit. 
You feel Brock run his hand along your back, fingers curling around your waist as he tugs you back to lay next to him. “No, it wasn’t,” he assures you, kissing your temple before you settle in next to him. “I was so into you when we were growing up. Every summer since high school I’ve hoped you would show up again.”
“I don’t believe you,” you giggle. “I had the biggest crush on you back then, you can’t steal my story,” you tease. 
“Back then?” 
Rolling your eyes you reach over and take his hand, squeezing it gently. “Still do.”
“Good,” Brock chuckles. 
And just like that the two of you fall into a comfortable silence that quickly turns to a deep sleep. After that first night together the two of you grew closer, no longer just spending the days together but the nights as well. 
Every morning you would wake up next to Brock, often going for a walk with the dogs before you would have breakfast together. Then you would spend the majority of the day working at your place. After you were done your work for the day you would head over and join Brock for dinner. 
For the next month and a half everything felt easy and fun. The daily stress you normally felt when you were back at your apartment had almost dissipated entirely. You grew closer and closer with Brock, falling more and more for him with each passing day. Time had begun to slip by faster and faster, till the majority of the summer was now in the past and you were getting closer and closer to the day where the cabins would be shuttered as everyone returned to the real world. 
Laying on your couch you stare out through the large window at the sheets of rain pouring from the sky. The summer was coming to an end whether you wanted to admit it or not and the grey sky was doing its part to remind you of that. Brock’s car was already packed, his place was tidied and ready for his departure. 
You have your head on Brock’s chest, your arm draped over his stomach. He’s running his hand along your back and with each passing second you begin growing closer to tears. You didn’t want to admit how much it felt like your chest was being ripped apart.
Sniffling quietly you try to blink away the tears in your eyes before Brock could notice. But you weren’t as secretive as you had hoped. “Are you okay?” Brock whispers.
Nodding you lift your head from his chest, wiping at your eyes. “Yeah, it’s stupid.”
“I’m sure it’s not,” Brock assures you, waiting for you to go on.
“I just don’t want this to end,” you admit. “I don’t want you to leave.”
“I don’t either.” Brock wraps his arms around you, pulling you closer. “I’m sorry.”
“Why are you apologizing?” you mumble, shuffling in your seat to face him. Taking one of Brock’s hands in yours you give it a quick squeeze, glossy eyes staring across the small distance between you and Brock. 
“Because I never meant to hurt you.” Brock reaches over, brushing away a few of the tears that had spilled from your eyes onto your cheeks. 
“You didn’t mean to hurt me, Brock. I know you didn’t,” you assure him with a quick sniffle, eyes gazing down at your interlocked fingers. “I would rather be hurt now than to never have had this summer with you.”
Brock leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. “I just wish we had more time.”
“Me too,” you whisper, lifting your eyes to look back up at him. “Maybe we can next summer.”
Brock nods slowly, pushing a piece of your hair behind your ear. “Next summer,” he echoes as a tear slides down your cheek no longer caring enough to wipe them away, no longer fighting the sadness in your heart. Because the pain was going to happen whether you wanted it or not. But maybe, just maybe, the promise of next summer would be enough to help you deal with the sadness. 
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midnightkens · 2 months
Text
massive tws for SA (implied, not described) and DV
The darkness has never felt more oppressive.
Ken draws the sheets to his chest and shudders. He can just barely make out the shape of his fingers clutching the comforter like a lifeline. Are they really his? Ken stretches his hand in front of him. The large palms and long fingers look like his, but surely it must be his brain playing a cruel trick on him. These fingers, this hand…They no longer feel like his. Ken waits for someone to burst through the door, snatch them and claim them as theirs.
But someone’s already done that, hasn’t he? The man snores next to him, completely unbothered. What’s he dreaming about? Ken wonders. The evening’s events play in his mind, a constant rewind that he can’t turn off. Patrick’s probably thinking about it, too, though for different reasons.
They always view things differently, Ken and Patrick. Never able to agree on anything, constantly bickering. Ken’s always unreasonable. Unwilling to compromise, always running his mouth.
“You’re so beautiful like this.” Patrick caresses his jaw, and Ken squeezes his eyes shut. Maybe if he stays quiet, it’ll all be over. “So quiet. It’s not like you. I think we should do this more often.”
Bile burns his throat. Ken swallows it and blinks tears away. When he first came alive, Ken struggled with his new body. The skin was rougher, muscles slowly disappeared, his hair changed shades. The body he’d inhabited for six decades was no longer his. It belonged to a stranger. It took months for the feeling to fade, for him to feel at home in his own body.
When he became Real, it’d been his own choice. He hadn’t thought the consequences through, but there was an element of control. It was a choice he’d deliberately made, and this new body belonged solely to him. He carved it into something he was proud of, a healthy, athletic body, and it was his home.
Was.
He refuses to close his eyes. The hot breath huffs against his clammy skin, smirking, branding him like he’s owned. Hands pin his wrists to the bed, and there’s laughter, cruel, sadistic laughter that only rings louder as Ken begins to cry.
“Stop it.” Ken pinches the skin - is it his? He doesn’t know - and the memory stops. There’s a burning sensation somewhere. He knows where, but if he pays attention to it, he’ll throw up. The body that he’d been so proud of mere hours before no longer belonged to him. Patrick made that abundantly clear. But Patrick’s been making it clear, hasn’t he? Doesn’t he take control with every hit, slap, and punch? The bruises would fade, leaving Ken under the illusion that his body was his, and his alone.
In one fell swoop, the illusion was shattered.
The dirt spreads under his skin. It thrums from the crown of his head to the tips of his toes, a taunting, cruel vibration that reminds him that he’s been tainted. Marked. Everyone will look at him and know exactly what happened.
The shower is boiling hot. Ken embraces it and scrubs furiously at his skin. Maybe if he burns his skin, no one will be able to see. The skin will peel away and heal anew, and no one would have to know that it was ever tainted to begin with. But maybe, he thinks, just maybe they’ll know anyway. He’s a Ken, and Kens never get what they want. No housing, nowhere to store their clothes, and Ken gasps as another brutal realization hits him.
From the moment of his creation, his body was never his. He may have taken some control when he chopped off his hair and changed his name all those years ago, but even then, he’d been the property of Mattel. There was always some brand of ownership on him, first from Mattel, and now from the hands of someone who claimed to love him. Someone who loved him wouldn’t put their hands on him or do their best to make him cry. They wouldn’t make him perform their silly show when he was in too much pain to function.
They wouldn’t take what wasn’t theirs.
But then again, that’s all Patrick’s done. Any scrap of self-worth? Long gone. Confidence? Shattered. Of course his body would be the last thing! The one thing that was never his to begin with, ripped out from underneath him.
If you tell anyone, I’ll tell them you hit me.
Why are you so upset? Don’t act like you didn’t enjoy it. I know you did.
He didn’t. I didn’t, I didn’t, I fucking didn’t. He pounds his fist against the shower wall, blinking furiously. His face is wet. From tears, or the shower? He doesn’t know. He doesn’t care. A clamps a hand over his mouth to muffle the howl of misery fighting to come out. It burns in his chest, and for a moment, Ken thinks he’d welcome being engulfed in flames. It would be better than this, right?
Hours later, he plops into a kitchen chair, nursing a mug of coffee. He rubs his eyes, gritty with exhaustion but unable to sleep. Patrick finally stumbles out of the bedroom, and Ken fixes his eyes on the mug. It shakes in his hands.
“Morning, gorgeous.” Patrick kisses his temple, and Ken smothers the urge to shove him to the floor. Morning, gorgeous. Like nothing even happened. “You okay? You look like shit.”
“Fine.” Ken whispers. His jacket hides his blistering skin. “Just didn’t sleep well.”
Life is all about performances, isn’t it? Ken’s about to give everyone the greatest performance they’ve ever seen. At the end of the day, he’s just Ken.
And no one cares enough about Kens to scratch beneath the surface
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yanderes-galore · 2 years
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Yandere Strom king please Concept💗
Alright! Using some tips from @queenofdiscord to get him more in character compared to last time! They have great ideas :)
I am also pulling from the prompt and concept I wrote previously for him. Darling is assumed to be a pony.
Yandere! Storm King Concept
Pairing: Romantic
Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Kidnapping, Sadism, Violence, Murder, Possessive behavior, Deception, Manipulation, Punishment, Ownership, Degrading behavior, Jealousy, Darling is treated like a pet, Branding, Dark content obviously, Isolation.
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Storm King is a tyrant who wants to be feared and abuses his power.
He'd be Possessive, Manipulative, Deceptive, Forceful, Sadistic, Teasing, and overall just horrid towards his darling.
He would see his darling as below him.
A pet or property.
He isn't the most caring individual.
Even less so towards a pony who's whole society is based on a stuffy concept such as friendship and unity.
Storm King is also incredibly temperamental.
He's cruel and doesn't care who gets hurt.
Storm King would brand his darling with his symbol in somewhere visible.
Such as the chest, flank, or face for example....
He'd also cover you in gear covered in his aesthetic.
You'll always be wearing a muzzle and harness connected to a lead for him to hold.
Without it you may look too cute for him.
You have to be feared to be his pet.
Storm King will isolate his darling.
If he hasn't decided to kill Tempest, she's only allowed limited contact with you.
You having friends would take away your attention.
He happens to want all of it.
Storm King will also blame you for things.
Usually when you have an outburst or he decides to execute some poor soul for being too close to you.
He'll say he killed them because of you.
All in an attempt to break your spirit and make you more compliant.
As he's so possessive, he gets jealous.
The reason he isolates you, brands you, does you up in his colors...
It's because he wants to show everyone just who you belong to.
He doesn't like your independence and instead wants you to rely on him.
He's a tyrannical king, of course he wants you to need him.
A king is no king without creatures to rule.
He'd take you to his throne room and hold you, stroking your mane with such a cheerful tone.
It's a facade, obviously, if he was actually nice he would never brand you as his.
He's manipulative because of the amount of lies he tells you to make you follow him.
Even before he muzzles you, he lies to you just enough for your trust.
Then cages you then and there.
Remorse? Nowhere to be seen.
He murders, kidnaps, and torments you to obey him.
Why would he have remorse?
He forces you to do a lot.
To worship him, to bow before him, honestly the fact he leads you by a leash is forceful enough.
He's also very teasing.
He'll tease you about your situation, how you look with the gear on, and anything else he feels like.
He finds your emotions fun to play with.
Your tears, your anger, your forced smiles... he loves them all.
All because they're his.
Everything about you is his.
Storm King is not all that affectionate.
He murders in front of you, he blames you for it...
Affection is a rare sight.
Although if he's feeling particularly happy, it's possible.
He'll pat your head, he'll squeeze your much smaller body, he'll nuzzle his face into your coat if he removes the head gear just enough.
These moments don't last long but they are a relief.
When you're sent to sleep, Storm King puts you in a cage.
Be loyal enough and you make get a room.
Escape is nearly impossible.
Every pony in Canterlot is enslaved and the area is crawling with his minions.
You would never get far.
Even if you did somehow, he'd have his forces search for you throughout the land.
He'll find you, you can't hide from him.
When you're finally caught and dragged back, punishment is in order.
This can range from starvation, injury, or plain old isolation for days on end.
You're lucky he adores you too much to kill you.
Even if you'd prefer it.
"Wow, you thought escape was possible? How cute! Now, let's fix that...."
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avaantares · 2 years
Text
I wrote a long response to a blue-checkmark drama post, but between the time I clicked "reblog" and the time I finished typing, OP apparently turned off reblogs for that post. So GUESS WHAT, y'all get my diatribe anyway. (Sorry; I know most of you aren't the problem. But I did actual math, so I don't want it to go to waste.)
---
The old axiom still applies:
If social media is free to use, it's because YOU are the product.
What that means, for the adage-averse, is this: Sites and services that appear to be fully free to users (Facebook, Twitter, TikTok, Google, et al.) are collecting your personal data and selling it to advertisers to pay for the (in some cases) hundreds of millions of dollars it costs to run such sites.
Tumblr doesn't do this. Tumblr hasn't done it, despite a monthly deficit of literally millions of dollars, which is why it's repeatedly been sold at a massive loss to new owners.
To give you actual numbers: Yahoo! acquired Tumblr in 2010 at a cost of $1.1 billion. After taking enormous losses, they later sold it to Verizon for an undisclosed amount. After trying (and failing) for two years to make the site pay for itself, Verizon sold it to Automattic (its current owners) for just $3 million. [Source]
For those who don't math, that means Tumblr's market value dropped by $1,097,000,000 in just nine years, or (averaged out) devalued by approximately $10 million per month. In short, nobody is looking at this as a worthwhile investment to hang onto long-term.
So why didn't it make money for its various owners, despite promising user statistics and a then-unheard-of initial sale price to Yahoo? Precisely because it wasn't leveraging your data to offset its running costs. The algorithm-free advertising format simply isn't viable for a site this big, which requires massive amounts of data storage and bandwidth (all those multimedia options you love cost a fortune on the back end). While there is a modicum of value for companies to hold a loss-generating property for tax purposes (which is pretty much what Verizon did with the site during its ownership), there is a finite period to reap those tax benefits. More relevant to us, if the site's only purpose is to show a loss on paper, there's little incentive for the owner to improve the service or keep its user base happy. We, the users, get thrown under the bus.
So how did Tumblr, under Automattic, try to run as a free site that didn't harvest user data? Tumblr served ads to try to generate revenue. But users complained about the ads. So Tumblr offered ad-free subscriptions at a very reasonable introductory rate of $3.33/month. But users complained about the subscriptions ("It's always been free! Other sites are free! Capitalism is evil!") and refused to pay. So Tumblr offered post-Blazing and tipping and physical merchandise and a variety of other optional features, most recently dashboard horse games and parody blue checkmarks, and instead of seeing these as a desperate attempt to stop the site from hemorrhaging money opportunity to support their online community, users just keep screaming about the moral failings of corporations that charge money for literally anything and insist that "we must keep this site unprofitable at all costs!"
Guys. Sites like this cost millions of dollars -- sometimes tens of millions -- to maintain each month. With the influx of new users from Twitter and elsewhere, that number is only going to increase as server load and bandwidth increase. And because of its history of losing value on a jaw-dropping scale, there will not be another company waiting to take ownership if Automattic decides to stop throwing money into the blue fires of this hellsite. If Tumblr is unprofitable for long enough, it will shut down. Period.
So either chill the $%#@*& out about the blue checkmarks or whatever, or pony up the monthly subscription fee yourself to help support the site. At the very least, stop attacking those who choose to give something back in exchange for the service they receive. Because they're the only reason this site has lasted as long as it has.
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meika-kuna · 11 days
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Essential Steps for Successfully Selling Land by Owner: A Comprehensive Guide
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