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comatosebunny09 · 10 months ago

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first class | sylus

summary: sylus likes to play dangerous games. today, you happen to be his rook piece. warning(s): female anatomy described, explicit language, dirty talk, bodily fluids, exhibitionism, reader's attire is described, profanity, blue balls of the female persuasion, praise kink now playing: devil's advocate - the neighbourhood notes: something i threw in @muvaginger's inbox. i'm sorry for my mind. thank you for reading, lovebugs.

Sylus, but calling you when you’ve just gotten off work.

“Are you home?” he asks, all husky on the other end. He knows you aren’t if the telltale shadow cast by a crow circling overhead is anything to go by.

“Not yet.”

“Well, get there.” Amusement resides in his voice. You have half a mind to tell him off for bossing you around like that. Like you don’t secretly enjoy it.

“Yeah, yeah. On my way.”

You hang up and shove your phone into your pocket. Put your helmet on, throwing your leg over your bike’s seat and settling on the cushion. Start it, the engine purring to life beneath you. After waving goodbye to Tara, you peel off, zipping through the energetic streets of Linkon towards your home.

Inside the lobby, your phone buzzes again. You roll your eyes, shoving your earpiece into your ear as you trudge through the lobby.

“What!” you grate out.

“Moving a little too slow there, kitten.”

If only you could punch him through the phone. You tamp down your anger, switching tactics. “What’s this about, anyway?”

He chuckles low and throaty, the sound of it prickling your brain. “Patience is a virtue.��

You scoff. “You’re one to talk.” Asshole, you add inwardly.

You catch the elevator to the floor where your apartment resides. Slide your key in, easing through the door into your entryway. Barely have time to set your keys down before a sharp rapping snaps your attention to the door.

“Open it,” Sylus orders.

Hesitant, you pivot towards it. Fingers twitch near your hip where your gun’s holstered. Slowly, you reach for the handle, mindful of your steps.

A soft laugh rings in your ear.

“Easy, sweetheart. It’s not an ambush. If I wanted to off you, I would’ve done so by now.”

“I never know with you,” you clip back, turning the doorknob.

After mentally counting to three, you throw the door open and peek outside. Silence and an empty hallway greet you. You glance left and right. Up and down the hall until a large, crimson box catches in your peripheral, seated on your doormat. You fetch it, admiring the black ribbon intricately wrapped around it.

“What’s this?” you query, kicking your door shut once you’re back inside.

“A gift.”

“Another one?”

His tone swims with nonchalance. “What can I say? I enjoy spoiling you rotten.”

You test the weight of the box. Shake it, hearing tissue paper and something heavy stir inside.

“Open it.”

You oblige. Tear the ribbon and top off, eyes curiously raking over the box’s contents. Inside is a long, black trench coat. Beneath that rests a long-sleeved, silk blouse. Deeper still lies a simple miniskirt, and you test its material between your fingers. It all looks and feels incredibly expensive despite its simplicity.

“Put it on,” Sylus instructs through the stillness.

“What? Why?”

“Because you have a train to catch in—” A brief pause. “One hour.”

“What the fuck? A train? An hour? Sylus—”

“Time is ticking, sweetie.”

The phone clicks with his exit.

You throw the clothes onto your couch, scrutinizing them over folded arms, chewing your lip. It’s 50 degrees out. Where the hell does he think you’re going dressed like this? Does he plan to use you as bait or something?

Your phone buzzes again on your coffee table. You fetch it to see a QR code for a train ticket sitting in your inbox.

“Shit,” you hiss, scrambling for your bathroom to shower. He’s serious. There really is no time to spare.

He’d better have a good reason for being so cryptic.

—

“The second to last car,” he husks in your ear. “Meet me there in five.”

Your lips contort into a scowl. You rip your earpiece out, wending through the train’s other passengers to pursue your goal.

In the corners of your vision, the scenery outside the windows eases by. Greenery nestled beneath the snow, somewhere remote. It’s beautiful. You take time to admire the sights before finding your way to the second to last car.

The door slides shut behind you. It’s quiet, save for the occasional rumble of the train upon the tracks. The passengers here are sparse. It’s a luxury cabin, decked with armchairs, faux plants, and an expensive carpet.

You survey the area, spotting an unmistakable thatch of white nestled in the rear seat. Try to mask your giddiness as you make your way towards the back. It’s been a few days since you’ve last seen him.

Wordlessly, he motions to the seat across from him when you venture to his side, wearing that customary smirk. You plop down, folding your arms. Bite back a smile of your own, favoring a frown.

“What’s this all about?”

Sylus leans back in an easy slouch, and the way he manspreads makes your mouth water. He peers down at you from his nose, draping a long arm over the headrest of his seat. His turtleneck and coat do little to disguise the power of his body. The tendons in his neck dance. Jaw flexes. He motions to your lap with a flick of his gaze.

“Touch yourself,” he rasps.

Your eyes grow comically wide. “Excuse me?!” you hiss, mindful of your volume. Look around to ensure no one’s the wiser to your conversation. No hello. No I’ve missed you. No preamble whatsoever.

His smug look doesn’t waver. “Don’t make me repeat myself, sweetheart.” There’s an underlying edge to his voice. One that doesn’t leave room for argument. Still, you contest him.

“Sylus, there are people here!”

That enraged whisper thing you do—it’s endearing.

Sylus’ eyes darken with something sinister. He hasn’t stopped watching you since the moment you sat down. Hasn’t stopped raking his eyes over your honeysuckle thighs, your hips.

“They can watch,” he drawls with an innocent shrug.

“Sylus!”

“Sweetie, I’m not asking.” Though he bears an expression of amusement, you can tell he means business. Consequences typically follow when you don’t heed him. Delicious consequences.

You swallow thickly. Sylus’ silhouette blurs as you survey the car over his shoulder. There are at least three other passengers here, all seated near the door you came through. More than enough distance between you. Your lover bleeds back into focus, his brow raised in challenge.

With a weighted sigh, you shift to make yourself more comfortable. Loosen the tie of your coat, drawing it open whilst easing your hips forward. Hesitantly spread your legs, feeling Sylus’ optics tuned to your every move. Something hot and sticky has already begun to gather in your panties, and your nipples tighten beneath the frail silk of your blouse.

He cutely cocks his head to the side when you hesitate. Eyes narrow. “What’s wrong, sweetie,” he croons all low. You feel it coiling in your stomach. “Scared?”

You cut your eyes to him, mouth drawn into a tight line. Of course you are. You’ve never done anything like this. He’s introduced you to all kinds of things. Uncovered fantasies lurking deep in your mind. Discovered all the erogenous zones on your body you never knew you housed, but—

Exhibitionism is new. Dangerous. And somehow, the thought of it makes you wetter.

“Go on,” he soothes. Encourages, irises dipping into a mysterious shade of garnet.

Your body moves of its own volition, spellbound. Thighs part a little more, hands smoothing over plump flesh. You sigh out, leaning back as you drag your nails over the inner curve of your thighs, bunching your skirt up towards your hips. A little more enthusiastic now, teasing your swollen outer labia with the knuckles of your thumbs.

Sylus’ mouth parts slightly. His gaze flickers downward, entranced by the show and the soft hitch of your breath. He looks back into your eyes, clicking his tongue in discovery. Reaches out a sizable hand, leaning towards you with his elbows digging into the pockets of his knees.

“Panties. Take them off.”

Your tummy sparkles with heat. He quirks a brow. He’s serious. It’s not enough to touch yourself like this in public. He wants you bare and exposed, staining the armchair with your heat.

Without a word, you shimmy out of your underwear. Thin and frill as they slide down your calves, over your ankles to pool at your feet. You compliantly deposit them into his hand. A bitten-off growl brews in his chest. He falls back against his seat, stuffing your panties into his coat’s inner pocket for safekeeping. Signals for you to keep going, fully invested in this game.

You repeat the process from before. And it’s a new sensation now, the crisp air of the train car kissing your sticky pussy. You try to think of other things. Try to distract yourself from the smolder of his gaze and how it makes your body hum and your mind fill with smoke.

You think about his fingers instead of yours, stroking down the slit of your pussy. His fingers rubbing at the hood of your clitoris, drawing it back to stroke your pretty, swollen clit. His thumbs sliding over your nipples, causing your back to arch, his tongue laving at the space behind your ear…

Your hips stutter. You stifle a moan. Sylus slides in and out of focus, your vision fogging around the corners. He chuckles amorously, shifting in his seat. “Don’t stop,” he nurtures, eyes burning like a feverish flame. His dick sits heavy in his slacks, slowly hardening and twitching.

You salivate. Knowing that he’s enjoying this as much as you gradually are—fuck. You bite your lip, propping your leg on the chair’s arm. Spread nice and wide for him, your pussy on full display.

You rut against your fingers, your face screwed up in rapture. Legs quiver each time the pads of your fingers bump your messy clit. You construct a rhythm that’s maddeningly slow and torturous. Feel that sparkling rush lazily pooling between your thighs, but it’s not enough. Wanna be filled and stuffed to the brim with cum.

His cum.

A glimpse at Sylus reveals something that makes you throb. He’s touching himself. Humping into the palm of his hand, hot and weighted through the thick layers of his clothes. Fuck. You pulse.

“Syl,” you sob quietly, wetly, wantonly. “Syl, please—”

“Use your fingers,” he breathes all ragged. “Inside.” Angles his head back until it thumps against the headrest. Doesn’t look away, still rucking his hips up into the heel of his palm like the slow undulation of a wave.

You indulge, circling the pucker of your pussy with your fingers. Steadily work one inside, and you sigh, tossing your head back. Caress your tits with your free hand, plucking your nipples to their peaks as you drive your finger in and out. The lewd, squelching sounds you make as you torture yourself causes your walls to clench down.

Sylus’ voice crackles, pouring through the fizzy haze that’s settled over you.

“One more. You can take one more, can’t you, sweetie?”

You moan at how his voice oozes like warm milk and honey. You’re obedient, gradually adding another, pumping in and out. A thick ring of cream collects around your knuckles. It’s still not enough. Never enough.

“That’s my girl,” he lauds, relief in his timbre. “So good for me. So, so good.”

“Sylus,” you sob, fucking yourself a little faster. Wish it were him instead, filling you up and pumping you with the briny edge of his cum. There’s a warm fluid trickling down your leg. Heat spooling in your tummy.

He greedily ingests the sight of you fucking yourself, groaning hoarsely. You’re so close to spilling over the edge, so close to losing yourself to an orgasm. And you would—

If not for the sound of footfalls nearing your position.

“Shit!” you hiss, snapping your legs shut. Work your skirt into some semblance of neatness, throwing your coat over your legs. Your cheeks and neck are aflame, pulse pounding in your throat, pussy throbbing.

You don’t make eye contact as the gentleman passes, too busy looking at your fingers in your lap. He’s none the wiser to the goings on in your section—or, at least, he acts like he isn’t—as he bows with a small smile, slipping through the door behind. Sylus tracks his every move, and if looks could kill…

Your heart thrums heavily in your ears. You caution a glance at your boyfriend, taking in his flushed cheeks, his heaving chest. He’d thrown his coat over his lap to disguise the monster pressing against the seam of his trousers.

You lock eyes. His lips pull into a scowl as he sits up, pitching himself forward. Cants his head to one side, voice abrasive and low.

“Did I tell you to close your fucking legs?”

A thrill racks through you. It’s rare that he curses, only sullying his tongue when he’s upset or too far gone. It turns your stomach to a primordial ooze. Without warning, Sylus gathers himself up, snatching your wrist along with him.

You stumble like a baby fawn to your feet, gazing into those eyes that dwindle like liquid spilled over burning coals.

“We aren’t done here, sweetheart,” he promises with a tense jaw. Tugs you from your seat and down the aisle, all the while fishing for something in his pocket. A quick glance reveals a barcode, and a number printed in bold letters on a bit of plastic. A keycard. The sneaky little…

He peers at you over his shoulder as you both maneuver through the throng of passengers in the remaining cars, back towards the front. Your features warm with a smile. Legs tingle.

You weren’t aware that this train had sleeper cars, but you’re grateful to know it does. Your body buzzes with the prospect of what’s to come. He’s not done with you, indeed.

hair down | masterlist | nuisance

#sylus x reader #sylus x you #love and deepspace sylus #lads sylus #sylus #lnds sylus #l&ds sylus #sylus imagine #sylus smut #sylus qin #lnds smut

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fairy-writes · 3 months ago

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I THINK OF YOU (WHEN I THINK ABOUT FOREVER)

Reblogs and Comments are greatly appreciated!!

____________________________________________________________________________

Fandom(s): Solo Leveling

Pairing(s): Min Byung-Gyu x Reader

Baek Yoon-Ho x Reader (platonic)

Word Count: 1.1k

Genre(s)/Tag(s): Gender Neutral!Reader, Reader is Smaller than Byung-Gyu, Established Romantic Relationships, Platonic Relationships (Baek x Reader), Post-Season Two, Baek Yoon-ho is a Good Friend

Notes: Title taken from the song “When I Get There” by P!nk

I’ll just say this now… I have no idea what I’m doing. Like, legitimately, I’m an anime-only watcher and am on… like… chapter six of the manhwa.

____________________________________________________________________________

When you woke up, the other side of the bed was cold.

You curl in on yourself, pulling the blankets closer as you bury your nose in the other pillow.

His smell is starting to fade…

It took a tremendous amount of effort to get yourself out of bed, but you managed to do it.

You even manage to shower and eat something for the first time in days. The hot water cascades down your back, and on autopilot, you shampoo and condition your hair, scrub your body, and even shave. But after your shower, you realize you have used Byung-Gyu’s shampoo, conditioner, and body wash. The scent of peppermint and eucalyptus surrounds you, and as you should’ve guessed, you feel tears pricking the corners of your eyes. But they don’t fall.

They never fall.

The apartment is cold when you step out of the steamy bathroom. Gooseflesh immediately pebbles on your arms and legs as you wrap the towel tighter around your body and head back into the connected bedroom.

The walk-in closet smells of dust as you flick on the lights, and you stare at his side of the closet. T-shirts and button-downs are pressed neatly on their hangers, and his trousers are folded over in his dresser. A very fine layer of dust covers his usually shiny dress shoes.

You rifle through your own dresser and pull out a pair of jeans before pulling a button-down from his side and slipping it over your head. The smell of peppermint and eucalyptus envelopes you. You tuck the hem into your jeans and slip on the first pair of shoes you find on your side of the closet.

Just then, right at five o’clock in the afternoon, there’s a knock at the front door.

Your eyes are heavy with tears as you open the door to find Baek Yoon-Ho standing before you. His eyes soften when he realizes exactly what shirt you have on. Your fist your fingers in the front of the shirt, and wait for him to speak.

“You ready?” He asks, and you nod silently. You grab your wallet and keys and follow the S-Rank Hunter down the stairs of the apartment complex to where his car is waiting.

The car ride is just as silent as you watch the world pass by from the rush hour traffic. Yoon-ho tries to make conversation. He really does. But Byung-Gyu was the one who kept conversations alive. The mere thought of your husband made tears well up, and you sniffed, wiping your nose with a handkerchief you kept in your pocket. But they don’t fall.

They never fall.

Yoon-ho puts his hand on your knee, not in a creepy or perverse way, but in a… comforting way. Like he understood what you were going through. Because he did. Of course, he knew, he was there when Byung-Gyu died.

“We’re almost there,” Yoon-ho reassures you, and you just nod,

“Right.” You mumble, twisting your ring around your finger.

The bar and grill is quiet-ish. There are a few patrons, some at the booths, some at the bar, and some mingling outside on the patio. But you don’t recognize anyone.

Just how you liked it nowadays.

Baek ushers you to a booth while he goes up to the bar to order your food and drinks. You pull your phone from your pocket and turn it on. Your home screen—Byung-Gyu and you when he proposed—stares back at you.

You turn it off and just pick at the peeling QR code on the table to pay the bill when you’re done.

Someone you don’t recognize immediately slips into the booth across from you.

He’s tall, with dark hair and dark eyes, wearing a long coat, a white t-shirt, and dark wash jeans as he studies your solemn expression. He says your name, and your eyes narrow the barest bit.

“Who’s asking?” You snap, and it is then that Yoon-ho comes back, setting a tray of food and drinks on your table.

“Ah, Hunter Sung, you made it.” He says, your eyes darting back to the mysterious man in shock.

So this was the country’s tenth S-Rank…

And—

“You’re the one who saved the hunters on Jeju Island.” You say, almost in awe and with the most emotion that you’d felt in weeks. Sung nods, eyes filled with a flicker of confusion.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t think we’ve met before. Hunter Baek told me your name but nothing else.” He said, and you offered a sad sort of smile,

“Byung-Gyu was my husband.” You say, and his eyes barely widen and fill with recognition.

“I asked them to come. You said you had something for them.” Yoon-ho said, and you frowned,

“What do you mean?” You ask, and Sung reaches into his coat pocket and pulls out an envelope. Your name is written in unfamiliar handwriting that must be his own. He reaches across the table and hands it to you. You open the envelope with tentative hands and tip the contents into your waiting hand.

Only to gasp when it hits your palm.

A ring, just as shiny as the day you put it on Byung-Gyu’s finger, gleamed in the light of the bar. For the umpteenth time that day, you began to cry. Only this time, you couldn’t stop the tears. They dripped down your chin, hot and sticky but very much cathartic.

You dissolved into a sobbing mess, deep, heaving sobs erupting as you tried not to break completely.

Sung looks on in a sort of pity, Yoon-ho rubbing your back.

“I thought this was lost. They said they couldn’t find it.” You choked out, ragged gasps taking up any air you managed to inhale. A lump in your throat made it difficult to breathe around the cries. People were starting to stare, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care about that.

“It was lost in the fight with how he was injured. He wasn’t wearing it when he died.” Sung explained, and you nodded,

“He always took it off for raids.” You said. Sung hummed in response as if this made sense.

“How did you find it?” You ask eventually and slip it on your finger next to your own ring. It was large on your finger, but you didn’t care. You could always find a chain to put it on later. Sung shrugged,

“I have summoning magic. I had one of my summons find it.” He said as if this explained everything.

It didn’t… But you could press Yoon-ho for answers later.

“Thank you… Thank you!” You lunge across the table and wrap your arms around his shoulders, pulling him into the first hug you had initiated since Byung-Gyu died.

He stiffens, but you don’t let up until your tears dry.

And… with the ring on your finger… Byung-Gyu feels just a little closer than before.

Maybe he would even be proud of you.

#min byung gyu x reader #min byung gyu x you #min byung gyu x y/n #min byung-gyu x reader #solo leveling x reader #solo leveling x you #solo leveling x y/n #min byung gyu #min byung-gyu #solo leveling #ore dake level up na ken #fairy writes

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riverofmolecules · 1 year ago

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Based on a @nonsunblob tag, I am trying to turn a question about menu formats into a poll but I think what I really need is ranked choice voting. Because there are so many specifics and what I really want is relative preference.

Anyway, I always take a long time deciding, so I hate having to stand right in front to pick something (this one cafe has their menu on a regular 8.5x11 paper by the register so you can't even stand back and read) but then fast food places now have the menu TV displays flipping between menu sections or even generic videos, so if you don't pick something within five seconds, you have to wait for the menu to come back in ten.

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soon-palestine · 11 months ago

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An interactive evacuation zone map, touted by the Israeli military as an innovation in humanitarian process, was revealed to rely on a subset of an internal Israeli military intelligence database. The US-based software developer who revealed the careless error has determined -> that the database was in use since at least 2022 and was updated through December of 2023.

On Tuesday, July 9th, we discovered an interactive version of the evacuation map while examining a page on the IDF's Arabic-language website accessible via a QR code -> published on an evacuation order leaflet.

The map is divided into "population blocks" an IDF term to refer to the 620 polygons used to divide Gaza into sectors that a user can zoom into and out of.

However each request to the site pulls not only the polygon -> boundaries but the demographic information assigned to that sector, including which families - and how many. members - live there.

𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐄𝐯𝐚𝐜𝐮𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐌𝐚𝐩𝐬:

Evacuation maps have played a central role -> in determining which sectors of Gaza were deemed "safe", but repeated instances of Israeli bombing in "safe" sectors has prompted international bodies to state "nowhere in Gaza is safe"

To determine how these sectors have been affected over time, assess the presence of vital -> civilian infrastructure, and gauge the potential impact on the population following the military's evacuation calls to Gaza City residents, the latest of which was two days ago, our team created a map tied to a database using software known as a "geographic information system” -> With the help of volunteer GIS developers, our map of Gaza included individual layers for hospitals, educational facilities, roads, and municipal boundaries.

This endeavor took an unexpected turn earlier this week when we started to work on -> the layer of "evacuation population blocks"

using a map shared to the Israeli military's Arabic site. Unlike static images, these maps responded interactively to zooming and panning. A software developer suggested that dynamic interaction was possible because the coordinates -> of various "population blocks" were delivered to the browser with each request, potentially retrieving the coordinates of the "population blocks" in real time and overlaying them on the map we were building.

The software developer delved into the webpage's source code -> —a practice involving the inspection of code delivered to every visitor's browser by the website. The source code of every website is publicly available and delivered to visitors on every page request. It functions "under the hood" of the website and can be viewed without -> any specialized tools or form of hacking.

𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐔𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐃𝐚𝐭𝐚

Upon examination, the data retrieved by the dynamic evacuation map included much more than just geographical coordinates. The source code contained a table from an unknown GIS -> database with numerous additional fields labelled in Hebrew.

These fields included population estimates for each block, details of the two largest clans in each block (referred to as “CLAN”), rankings based on unknown criteria -> and timestamps indicating when records were last updated.

Some data terms, such as "manpower_e," were ambiguous for us to interpret, possibly referring to either the number of fighters or the necessary personnel to maintain the area -> Using this information we determined that Block 234, Abu Madin was last updated on 27 April 2022. This suggests that Israel's effort to divide Gaza into 620 "population blocks" began one and a half years before the current Israeli offensive -> Additional modification dates indicate that the military updated data in this field regularly throughout October and November, before formally publishing it on the arabic Israeli military webpage on December 1, 2023.

It appears that the IDF has accidentally published -> a subset of their internal intelligence

GIS database in an effort to impress the world with a novel, humanitarian evacuation aid. It is easier to retrieve a database in its entirety than to write a properly selective query. Such mistakes are common among programmers that lack -> experience, security training, or are simply unwilling or unable to do meet standard data security requirements for a project.

𝐂𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐀𝐝𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐏𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐬 -> In January, Israeli security chiefs proposed a plan for "the day after" where Palestinian clans in the Gaza Strip would temporarily administer the coastal enclave. In this concept, each clan would handle humanitarian aid and resources for their local regions. Israeli assessments of the proposal suggested such a plan would fail due to "lack of will" and retaliation by Hamas against clans willing to collaborate with the army. The plan has since been modified to include Hamas-free “bubbles,” (as reported by the Financial Times) -> where local Palestinians would gradually take over aid distribution responsibilities.

As this plan is to be initially implemented in Beit Hanoun and Beit Lahia. Al-Atatrah Area and Beit Hanoun, we have analyzed the information in the database assigned to those three areas -> Israeli army classified the Al-Atatrah area as region 1741, although there are only 620 'blocks' on the map. The registered population was listed as 949, last updated by the IDF on October 9th. We assume this represents an estimate by the IDF of current residents as of Oct 9th. Residents of Al-Atatrah were among the first to evacuate following the initial bombardment on October 7th and 8th and were not given a formal notification to evacuate. The Israeli military noted that the Abo Halima family comprised 54% of the block’s population -> In area west of the town Beit Hanoun, Israel had desginated the Almasri clan as the largest in the sector, consisting 18% of the block's population. Second largest was the Hamad family, with11% of the block's population. This area were also associated with rankings, however -> without the criteria used to determine the ranking, these numbers are difficult to interpret.

𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐚𝐥?

Although some of the data were inadvertently truncated during publication, posing challenges for comprehensive -> interpretation, this database provides a valuable window into the Israeli military's perspective on Gaza.

For one, it prompts questions into why the military had already partitioned Gaza into 620 population blocks a year an a half before October 7th -> This suggests an early inclination to implement a governance policy where clans would assume authoritative roles, as well as detailed population surveillance. Tracking dense populations in the chaos of urban warfare is a difficult task -> It may be that the QR code on the evacuation map actively collects the locations of people who scan it, allowing the IDF to collect real-time data on Palestinians in Gaza as they attempt to find safety.

END

#palestine #gaza #free palestine

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bellyyearner · 9 months ago

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Feedist Kinktober 2024 Day 3: Date Night

Word Count: 1320

Thank you to @fatguarddog for the theme list!

Feedee POV, large feedee x thin feeder, GN feedee x femme feeder, tight clothes, social setting, stuffing, belly noises

As you both are walking up the stairs you can feel your belly wobbling beneath the strained fabric of your button up, your pants were a struggle to put on and you already know you're at risk of popping the button before dinner even starts. You turn your gaze to your wife and she just looks so elegant, her lithe body adorned with a flowy knee length crimson dress, hugging her upper curves while obscuring her lower, dark brown hair cresting the tops of her shoulders. The smell of the restaurant permeates both of your noses but one of you is clearly more drawn to it than the other. Despite the extra effort of hauling the almost 200lbs of pure fat you've added to your frame you're quite thankful most of it went to your fattened middle, makes going up stairs easier as you don't have to try too hard to balance.

When you both reach the top of the stairs you step to the side and take a short breather. After a moment your partner looks up to you with beaming eyes and a wide smile

"Alright sweetie.. are you ready to have some fun?" ;)

"You know it babe"

"Good, lets go celebrate this right"

You both walk to the receptionist, they check your reservation and guide you on over to the booth your wife booked, a fact you learned less than an hour ago which explained why she was so restrictive with your meals today. "Restrictive" as in a normal day of eating for a normal sized person. She slides into her side of the booth with ease to watch the show, as you bend your knees to slide on in. Ass barely against the seat and you can feel the table digging in to your gut already, but your belly is doughy enough to not have issues sucking it in and sliding the rest of the way through.

You pull out your phone to scan the QR code on the table but as soon as you try she puts her hand over your phone and lightly pushes it to the table.

"I'll be handling this tonight sweet heart. Just be a good pig and wait a few minutes as I get us situated, get comfy you're gonna need it"

Your heart flutters as you shake your head, unable to form a proper reply. The squeeze from the table against your fattened gut is causing the rumbling to begin, an angry belly demanding to be filled letting out a roar, your wife just chuckles in response as she peruses the menu.

After the minutes pass she sets her phone down and presses the button next to the QR code, a server comes by moments later, you now realize that the kitchen door is only a mere 20 feet away. Something she definitely knew before hand.

"What can we get started for you both?"

"Hey yeah we'll get a Sea Food pallet, a Caesar salad, 2 brisket specials , 2 margaritas, and 2 glasses of water to start"

"Sounds good, I'll get those drinks out for you now, the food will be coming out in about 10 minutes"

With that your server walked to the kitchen and returned shortly after with the margaritas and water. The both of you engage in conversation and sharing memories while you wait for the plates to arrive. The margaritas went quickly so your wife presses the button again and orders another 2. The food comes out with the drinks and it smells so enticing. Unsure where to start you look to her and she greets you with hungry eyes

"Well? What are you waiting for baby? Pick up that fork and get to work, I've got big plans for you tonight"

Obediently you grab your fork and start on the brisket, the tender meat falling apart so softly in your mouth, infused with the southern flavors you've grown so accustomed to. Quickly you get sucked into your own little world, pushing more and more of the juicy meat past your lips between sips of your margarita. By the time you finish the first plate your angry gut has been replaced with a greedy one, leaning back a bit you caress your love handles to your belly button beneath the table. You feel the tip of her heel poke your fupa and you look down back at her, her head resting atop her hands as she quietly says "Good job sweetie, but that's just the start, nows not the time for a break"

Your crotch grows hot as you stifle a burp, she presses the tip of her heel into your gut deeper this time as she stares you down with greedy eyes, forcing a little more gas to come up. You taste the brisket on your breath before she says "Was the brisket good piggy? Go ahead, I didn't order this one for me anyways" she inches the plate towards you, eyes locked onto your lardy middle spilling onto the table. She presses the button on the table again as you tear into the meat once more, barely even registering her placing another drink order when the server comes by. Juicy meat with intense flavor sliding down your throat and falling into the abyss that she owns and maintains very well.

As soon as the 2nd plate was cleared the server had returned with cocktails and took away the 2 plates you already cleared. You notice your wife has just been sipping her drink and taking slow bites of her salad this whole time

"Are you not gonna have any of the seafood babe?"

"Not at all, sure it's meant to be shared but... I'm enjoying making you look like a complete and utter fat ass"

You blush hard, looking her over and taking in her thin form, the contrast between you is undeniable. Sure the booth is somewhat secluded but you know damn well your server has probably already alerted the kitchen staff to the obese pig they're cooking for. It wouldn't be a surprise if a couple of them had peeked through the window on the kitchen door to see the gargantuan size of who their feeding.

The thought quickly fades though as your wife picks up a shrimp and presses it to your lips, instinctively you open up and lean in, forgetting all about decency as you do so. With subtle words of encouragement and more of her heels poking and probing your belly the sea food pallet slowly but surely disappears. By this point your gut is pressing against the table hard. The buttons above the table are stretched tight, making the fabric between them take the shape of ovals. You're stifling burps as the gas in your belly shifts and the food churns.

A small break occurs and the two of you just enjoy each other's company, talks of when to take pto next, where you should go on vacation, what shows and books you've been wanting to watch/read. She presses the button again without acknowledging it and the conversation keeps going, once your server arrives your wife orders a parfait, a sundae, and a whole chocolate cake to go. As the server walks off your wife turns to you and rather curtly says

"The parfait is mine fatty. It may look good and tasty but you're not touching it" a smile crest her lips and she laughs, you join her as well before saying

"Don't worry about that, a sundae is just what I need, besides I doubt that cake is for tomorrow"

"Of course not, as soon as our desserts are gone, you're gonna squeeze your way out of that booth you've eaten yourself stuck into, we'll head home, and I'll have you face down in that cake as soon as we're upstairs"

She leans over the table and beckons you closer, with a whisper she says

"I'll be making you my bitch tonight sweetheart, the lube, strap on, and towels are already laid out, happy anniversary piggy"

#feedist kinktober #violet stories #feedist kinktober 2024 #feeding kink #feedee encouragement #feedism writing #feedee feeder #fat belly #fat piggy #feedee pov #feedee story

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digitalemenu · 2 years ago

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How Does QR Table Ordering System Improves Dining Experience?

Learn about restaurant table QR code and get the best restaurant table QR code built with a vendor. Access the best QR menu restaurant now.

#QR code table ordering #QR ordering system #QR code ordering system

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cellythefloshie · 1 year ago

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;; Tainted Love 500 Follower Celebration

Summary: The stars seem to align for the first time when you and Ross Colton meet up for drinks while the Colorado Avalanche are in town. But it's a dangerous game you're playing because the spark is still there and is hard to ignore even with the both of you being spoken for. Kinks & Tropes: CHEATING (putting this in all caps because I want to make sure it's clear. It is a very prominent theme in this fic), alcohol consumption, car sex, unprotected sex, no forms of contraception used, pull-out method, dirty talk Word Count: 4.5k+

I've got to get away from the pain you drive into the heart of me.

The cold, caught somewhere between a fall and winter wind, reddened your cheeks more than blush ever could. It stung as you walked through the quiet streets; you head down and the collar of your jacket popped in a desperate attempt to stay home. It was late, the only life seen in the bars and restaurants on either side of you as you passed. The streets were empty, the bustle of traffic long forgotten. The only vehicle was a single cab picking up patrons or dropping them off. There were still four hours until closing time.

This, usually, was late enough for you to crawl into bed. You'd throw on a Netflix show, or listen to an audio book until you fell asleep. But you made plans. With your boyfriend out of town, you shouldn't have, but you did.

You felt like you had to, because this might have been the only opportunity you had to see Ross.

In town for one night only, and with his curfew broadened just because they had granted him more time to spend with his family, you couldn't say no. You never had said no to him either. The two of you shared a connection like you couldn't describe. Ever since you had first met on a dating app after one casual swipe in the right direction, you had clicked.

And even after the first date didn't work out, the encounter lasted no more than 5 minutes. You still kept in touch. You would get the occasional check in text. But beyond that, the two of you had gone your separate ways.

You had your boyfriend, and months later he had his girl. And your respective relationships remained unbroken, fully committed. But in time, even after months of not speaking to one another, you always ended up in each other's messages. Just to catch up, nothing more, always innocent - or at least, that was what you told yourselves.

And that's what meeting up in a bar you'd never been to would be. Just catching up over a drink. Nothing more.��

That was what you told yourself when you stopped at the front door, her head tipping back to look up at the dimly lit sign. Your body quivered with a shaky breath.

Nerves? No. Ross never made you nervous.

You knew what you were feeling, but you couldn't admit it to yourself. It was wrong. Yet, you did it anyway.

You were greeted with a gust of warmth, a smile spreading over your face as you entered the busy bar. Bodies crowded around the bar top, music blared, and each television was broadcasting one sports event or another.

Finding a table near the back, the broadcast talking about tomorrow's Devil's game was a welcome distraction. You watched it as you draped your jacket over the back of your chair, and as you glanced over the menu, you had pulled up on your phone with the help of the QR code stuck on the tabletop. It was a distraction more than anything. You almost always ordered the same drink, no matter where you went. You just wanted to look busy until Ross arrived.

He announced his arrival discretely to not draw the attention of the surrounding people. He did it simply by speaking your name as his hand caressed over the small of your back in a featherlight touch.

Your smile was too wide as you answered him, “Ross.”

Without thought, you stood up from your seat and threw your arms around him in a brief embrace. And he returned it, the strength of his arms wrapping around you and pulling you close. And for a moment, the two of you just stood there - just long enough to enjoy his embrace, but not long enough for it to be awkward. Then, your limbs fell away from him so naturally as you perched yourself back up on your chair.

From there, you admired him as he rounded the table to sit across from you. Ross was over dressed in every sense of the word. He wore a white button down, your eyes drawn to the black buttons that trailed down his chest, and he shrugged off his sports coat, the color one you couldn't quite make out under the dim multi-color lights of what you deemed a dive bar.

He draped the coat over the back of his chair, and his eyes that were bright with his smile found you.

“I'm a bit over dressed, huh?” His question laced with a chuckle as he sat.

You nodded. “Just a bit.”

“Just came from dinner with the family,” he explained, as if you needed one. You weren't going to complain. He looked good in a suit. There were worse things you could get stuck looking at.

“How was it? They must have been excited to see you.”

And that was how the conversation began. So effortlessly, so naturally, as you moved from one topic to the next. His family, yours, how he had settled into Colorado, his girlfriend, your boyfriend. You talked about it all over a drink that quickly led to two.

Once you finished sucking back nothing more than melted ice cubes from the bottom of your glass, you were cursing yourself for being such a lightweight. You could feel the buzz of alcohol coursing through you. The jitters in your hands, and the racing of your heart in your chest. One drink more and your brain would have fogged, but there wouldn't be another.

It was late, and Ross was already asking for the bill.

He paid it in full.

“Thank you, you didn't have to do that,” you said as you stood up from your seat. Thankfully, you didn't waver on your feet.

“You can cover it next time,” he said in such a way you believed him.

But you knew there wouldn't be a next time. He would be flying back to Colorado after the game, and he had a girlfriend. You had a boyfriend. It couldn't happen again. It shouldn't.

Together, you shrugged on your coats in the first awkward silence of the evening. Was this where you should say goodbye? Should you let him go on ahead and order yourself some water?

“Let me walk you to your car?” Ross’ voice cut through the silence. He had made up your mind for you.

You nodded. “Yeah, sure. That'd be great.”

Keeping your head down, you left the bar together. Ross’ frame leading the way through the crowd that was now dwindling. It would be closing time soon.

Stepping out into the cold air, you took in a sharp exhale. Its harshness almost left you light headed - or maybe that was the alcohol.

You should have drunk some water.

“I'm parked just up this way,” you told him and began the walk along the sidewalk with a casual stride.

You walked together, your arms bumping up against one another with each casual stride. The contact left a soft smile on your lips, your gaze rising to look at him out of the corner of your eye. His hands had dipped into his pockets, and his collar popped to keep himself from the cold. And you stared for a moment, admiring how the city light reflected off his features. And how it ignited his too-perfect smile when he caught you staring.

“You look amazing tonight,” his voice cut through the silent street, sending goosebumps to rise on your skin.

Your smile tugged a little tighter at your cheeks.

He shouldn't be giving you a compliment like that. You shouldn't have liked hearing them. But you didn't stop them.

“Thanks, but I feel a little underdressed.”

Ross’ smile split wider, and a laugh erupted from his lips as he threw his head back. It was a laugh so comforting, so familiar, that it warmed your entire body as you came to stand in the empty parking lot where your vehicle sat alone.

“This is me,” you gestured to the mid size SUV with the lazy sway of your arm.

“Well,” he sighed out almost hesitantly, “it was really nice seeing you-”

You nodded slowly. “Yeah. Yeah it was.”

For a moment, the two of you just stood there, smiles on your faces and your eyes fixated on one another. Unmoving. Not quite wanting to leave.

Then, he was stepping forward, his arms encasing you in his embraces, and your arms winding around him in return. Your cheek rested against his chest, his warmth radiating to you as he held you. You stood there, your eyes shutting for a moment as you relished in the feeling of him. The feeling of his arms wrapped around your body. The feeling of his hands on your back, and one dipping down. Down to where your ass peeked out from the edge of your jacket. There he gave it a gentle squeeze, and you could feel his gentle exhale as your own was trapped in your own chest.

He shouldn't have touched you like that.

You shouldn't have let him.

And you shouldn't have liked it.

Drawing back slowly, you tilted your head back to look up at him. And Ross was looking back down at you. His bright eyes were half closed in a dreamy gaze and the corners of his smile had gone soft, leaving his lips slightly parted as he let out each exhale.

It washed over your face in a blossom of heat, and smelt of the sweet alcohol on his tongue. Ross’ face was so close to yours you could practically taste it–no, you just wanted to.

“Good luck tomorrow,” you muttered out a quiet goodbye, your limbs not ready to recoil away from his body yet.

“You should come, I can get you a ticket,” he offered, his words a breath into your hair that ignited your skin as he spoke.

“I might take you up on it,” you told him, but you wouldn't.

“I'll see you soon,” Ross sighed, his words igniting your skin as he spoke.

Yeah, sure you will. Was what you wanted to say. To mock him with those words and a hint of a laugh. Because you knew how this would go. You would go home tonight, and Ross would go back to the hotel room. He would ask if you made it home safe, and you would answer. But then you wouldn't hear from him for days, weeks, maybe months until you crossed his mind again, or he was left with the lonely opportunity to message you.

Instead, you said nothing, and you smiled a soft, tired smile.

It was then his hands fell away from you, his touch trailed down your curves, ghosting over the peaks of your hips before you were void of his touch, his warmth, and left numb by his absence.

So suddenly you felt cold, empty as you stood there in the parking lot. Your head spun, your eyes shutting tight as you tried to process a single thought. But there, as you sought for reason, for logic, there was only action.

Your arm lurched out before you could stop it, and your hand found what it was looking for as fingers wrapped around Ross’ wrist and dragged down to coast over his palm. Your fingers traced over each crease slowly until you could feel his fingers so close to slipping away, but then his hand captured your hand in return.

The sudden grasp of your hands together had his body recoiling into your own. There was a moment of tension in your arms before Ross stepped back into his place in front of you. Then, he took another step, forcing you to step back again and again until you were trapped between his body and your car door. He didn’t say a word, and neither did you. You didn’t have to. You could see all of what he wanted to say in the look of his eyes and how they searched yours so desperately for what you wanted from him.

But what was it that you wanted?

You said your goodbyes, yet it didn’t feel like enough. It never did, and that was probably why you so desperately clung to any kind of relationship with him. To fill and satisfy a void your boyfriend left in you, but also in hope that one day have the satisfaction of being with him the way you always thought you might but never could be.

You had always run to Ross in a sense, especially during hardships. He knew you better than most, and he knew more of your secrets than anyone - and you were the same for him. Through tears and through laughter, the love you shared was unique. Unlike any other. Tainted. So close to friendship, but there would always be more.

And for the first time, it truly felt like you could finally cross those lines together. With his girlfriend back in Colorado, and your boyfriend away on business, it almost felt like fate that the two of you were left alone in New Jersey together.

His girlfriend didn’t know you existed, but you knew about her.

Your boyfriend didn’t know he existed, but Ross knew about him.

The two of you knew every little detail of each other's lives with your partners and helped each other through problems in your relationships that no one else seemed to understand. And it all seemed to be for nothing as you stood there in the night just waiting, hoping that he would kiss you.

You held your breath as Ross’ hand came up to stroke over your cheek. His touch was so warm, so gentle, that it left your every thought melting from your brain. You held no worry, only anticipation that coiled in the depths of your stomach and left your limbs to tremble. All you could focus on was his fingertips and how they traced every angle of your cheek, down over your jaw, and finally to your lips that quivered with an uneven breath.

It left your chest aching as you held the softened gaze of his eyes as they moved in as he closed the distance between you. You managed a single jagged breath before it was stolen from you, the warmth of his mouth all consuming as the kiss started in what was the careful brush of his lips against your own.

Then, it was like a dam broke.

There was no innocence in how Ross kissed you. His teeth moved hungrily against you, mouth open, and tongues gliding along one another before teeth clashed and desperate inhales were taken before you both dove further into self indulgence. It left you dizzy, your body pressed firmly back into the dirty door of your car. There, Ross knocked your legs just a single step apart and wedged a single leg between yours. You could feel him against the inside of each of your thighs, and so close to their apex. With just the single tilt of your hips, you could have ground yourself against him. Instead, you fumbled in your coat pockets for your keys.

Your fingers moved over the buttons blindly in your pocket, moving over one button and then the other until the lights flickered and you heard the locks disengage. The loud thud was like the gunshot at the beginning of a race. You couldn’t move your hands fast enough, and neither could he as you both reached for the same door handle, his hand gripped your, gripping it and pulling open. It sent you stumbling away from the door and into his body that helped you into the backseat of your car.

It was a spacious SUV. One you had slept in the back seat of on a road trip years ago. It wasn’t the most comfortable, but it was what you had, so it would do. You crawled up the length of the bench seats, giving Ross room to climb in behind you - but there was no space left between you when you heard the door shut firmly behind him.

His hands were quick to find your body, his grasp so firm on your hips to draw you back into him. Your bodies were a knotted mess as you tried to get situated in the back, the driver’s side seat digging into your front, then your side, and finally your back as you threw your leg over his to straddle him. With his warmth back between your thighs, you stripped off your coat to try to ignore just how hot he made you. Tossing it aside, your hands were freed to explore. Your hands found his body, your touch stroking over the angles of his own face as you kissed him, tasted him.

You were sure you had kissed him once before, but it had been so long you had forgotten the taste he left on your tongue. It was intoxicating, coaxing a moan up your lips as your hands found their place to rest knotted in the dark wisps of his hair. You toyed with the locks that would threaten to curl if they were only a little longer, as his hands trailed down the curves of your body. Ross caressed just under your breast, his thumb curiously reaching up and grazed just shy of your pert nipple that was pressing into the inside of your bra with the desperation of wanting to be touched. Then, his hands dipped lower over the circle of your waist, the rushed movement wrinkling the fabric, leaving the small of your back exposed.

Touching your skin was like adding gasoline to an already raging fire. It sent Ross’ lips wandering from yours as his fingers stroked your soft, exposed flesh. His kiss traveled down over your chin, tickled your neck, and found your collarbone with a playful nip. It sent your heart racing.

He knew you would like that.

But you had to be careful.

“No marks,” you breathed out, your eyes shutting as you tried to ignore why that had to be.

“Yeah,” he breathed out quickly, “yeah, got it.”

With your exchange, it brought you both to a pause. Your chests heaved for breath, and your eyes seemed to look at everything except at each other. A decision needed to be made. You could stop before things could get any more complicated, or Ross could take off your shirt as he so desperately seemed to want to as his hand dragged along its delicate hem.

You bit your lower lip firmly as you tried to look out the already fogged window. You could see the rainbow of colors that were the city lights shining through each drip of condensation. Focusing on a single droplet, you followed it down to the edge of the window and took a breath that escaped you with a sigh.

You knew what you wanted to do, but before you could say anything, Ross’ voice filled the air, “We don’t have to-”

Your head snapped to look in his direction. “You don’t want to?”

“That’s not what I'm saying,” he answered slowly, his teeth biting his own lip as his eyes fixated on yours.

You knew what he was getting at. You were nervous, hesitant, but you knew you wanted this. You just needed the assurance that he wanted you as badly as you wanted him.

“Ross…” you breathed out his name. It was the very beginning of the thought that threatened the very tip of your tongue, and that was left strangled in your throat as you felt Ross grip the swells of your hips.

He held you firm in each hand, and with that hold, he guided you back and forth over his lap. Your hips angled instantly, grinding your needy core over the expense of his lap. You moved to and fro with his moments, and quivered at the feeling of his stiff cock beneath the thick seam of your jeans.

“Do you want me to stop?” he asked you, his words slow and clear. He knew what he wanted, but he needed to hear it from you, too. Ross needed you to make the decision on your own, and to hear it from your own lips, even if he had already made up his mind for himself.

“I-” you gasped out, your heart beating up into your ears like drums. It pulsed through your body, right through to your core that throbbed against the stiff outline of his cock.

You should have told him to stop.

You should have pulled your coat back on and sent him on his way.

But you didn’t.

“Don’t you dare,” you answered him after a moment, your voice stern, “just,” you took in a long inhale, “let’s be quick - unbutton your pants.”

Your bodies strained in the tight place as you both fought close quarters to undo your pants. You leaned back against the driver's seat to try to get the angle just right to work your jeans down, while Ross pressed down onto his heels and lifted his hips up high to work his hands just low enough for his cock to spring free.

And while his pants rested around his knees, and that’s all he needed to do to be ready for you, you struggled. You let out a frustrated huff as the head of the driver’s seat dug into your back, and your arms fought the tight denim down your hips. The awkwardness left you slipping. Ross’ hand was quick to catch you before you could fall awkwardly onto him and his stiff cock that was so exposed, hard and ready for you to take him.

“I got it,” Ross’ words were a rushed promise, his hands gripping the fabric and pulling them down your legs until they rested on the floor of the car with your shoes - but your panties they remained. You watched as Ross admired them for a moment. The simple pale colored lace that looked gray in the darkness.

Your core clenched as his finger toyed with them, pushing and tugging at the fabric as he lured you back in close to him. And when you were a mere breath away, his finger dipped beneath the fabric and dragged along your slick core, if only just to tease you as he pulled the damned fabric to the side.

“I wish I could enjoy you, the way you deserve to be enjoyed,” Ross hummed out, his hand guiding you forward to hover above the very tip of his cock.

You nearly quivered at his words. Many times, he had told you how he would fuck you. How he would enjoy tasting your sweet cunt on his tongue before leaving you moaning as you took his cock like the slut girl you were. But there was no time for those luxuries.

Angling yourself over his cock, you took hold of it in your cold hand carefully. The hiss that left his lips left your grinning, but it was him that was left with the last laugh as he thrust up into your wet cunt, leaving you overtaken by a pathetic whimper that came with the feeling of taking his cock inside you for the very first time.

“You like that?” Ross asked you in a whisper, his hands remaining firm on your hips to guide him along his cock with the slow roll of your hips.

You nodded feebly, your mouth opening to tell him just how good his cock felt, only to unleash a moan instead.

“Look at you,” his grin grew, “so pretty as you take my cock, and taking it so well you don’t even have the words to tell me - and you’ve always been so good with your words,” he purred, “such a shame really.”

Ross reached up with his hand, his fingers stroking over your lips as you were left on the verge of another moan. One you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of having just yet.

“I like when you tell me what a dirty slut you are,” his thumb tugged at your lower lip playfully as he thrust up hard into your cunt, coaxing that moan you had choked back into the depth of your throat, “but you sure do have a pretty moan.”

Your core clenched around his cock at the compliment, your hands lurching forward to grip at the leather head rest behind him.

“Shut up,” you spoke through grit teeth.

“Oh?” he raised a brow up, his heels digging into the floor again and thrusting so deep your body couldn’t physically take him any further. “You don’t like when I talk dirty to you?”

Your core clenched again, then you gasped, “no, I-”

You moaned again, your entire body reverberating with the sound.

“You’re so close, I can fucking feel how desperate you are on my cock.” Ross didn’t bite his tongue. He liked to see you so close to the verge of pleasure, practically melting in front of him, and your cunt flexing around him.

With weak legs, you met every single thrust, but it wasn’t enough. Not for him and not for you, either.

Ross gripped the fleas of your ass firm in both hands and used it as leverage as he lifted you up and guided you to lay out on the leather seats all without leaving the warm wet embrace of your cunt. With you sprawled out, Ross gripped your hips and guided your legs to wrap around his hips just right. Every thrust made you tingle, made you moan, and soon your toes were curling, your body near recoiling with pleasure. Yet, he thrust through each wave, through every flex of your core, sending his eyes rolling back in his own pleasure.

“I’m close,” he choked out, your heart suddenly racing with panic.

“Pull out,” you told him, voice stern, “I’m not, fuck I’m not on the pill. Pull out.”

“What?” he seemed shocked, his cock still buried deep inside you for a thrust, then another before he pulled out and found the warm embrace of his own hand.

You lay there, panting, legs still quivering, as he worked himself through his climax. His face softened, his body arching over you as he painted the inside of your thighs and the leather seats with his cum.

“Should have given me a heads up,” he panted out after a moment.

“Would it have changed anything?” You countered.

His head shook, “no, but I would have gotten you to suck me off or something-”

“You wish,” you shoved him playfully, “now, get your pants back on.”

Ross settled back into the seat the two of you had started in, but you remained laying there for a moment. You were seeing stars as you stared up at the ceiling, your one hand dipping between your legs and swiping over your cunt to make sure there had been no accidents before you put your panties back into place. Then, each of your moments had to be deliberate. The cum on the inside of your thighs had already begun to dry, but the cum on the seats was still hot and sticky. You couldn’t risk getting it on any of your clothes. It would have to be something you had to clean up before you got home, but first, you had to say your goodbyes.

You pulled your pants up slowly in silence, then your shoes before you heard the door open and the cold night air infiltrated the car. It sent a shiver coursing through you, your hands desperately reaching for your coat as you slipped out of the car behind him.

“Are you good to drive home?” Ross asked slowly, his hands in his pocket.

You nodded. “Yeah, I’m good.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah.”

“Message me when you get in?”

You looked to your empty driver seat, “yeah, just-” you sighed gently knowing you would be going back to the apartment you shared with your boyfriend even if it was empty for the next week, “don’t be surprised if you’re blocked in the morning when you try to message me.”

Ross’ feature faltered into a frown. “Regretting me already?”

Your heart sank. You didn’t know how to feel, or how you would feel in the morning when you had the night to fully comprehend the choices you had made.

“Regret you? Nah, never.” You gave him a reassuring smile as you stepped in, your hands on his chest as you pressed up to give him a goodnight kiss. It was a soft, gentle kiss, one that had you pulling back like the gentle rise and fall of waves until he pulled you back in with both hands and kissed you deeply, making sure that you left with the taste of him on your lips.

Then, you got into the driver's seat of your car, and brought the engine to life with the turn of your key. It reeked of sex, of cum, but it was nothing a good wash and a new air freshener couldn’t mask - but even then as you sat there, your eyes fixed on Ross as he stood there in the parking lot, watching you leave, you barely noticed the smell. No, the heavy feeling in your chest was too distracting. This time really felt like a goodbye. And not just a goodbye for now, but a goodbye forever.

#ross colton #ross colton fanfic #colorado avalanche #hockey rpf #hockey smut #nhl rpf #nhl fanfiction #nhl fanfic #fanfic #hockey imagines #;;500 #reader insert #ross colon x reader

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nimblermortal · 5 months ago

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@icryyoumercy @hello-delicious-tea

This is a first draft, jetlagged thing and needs. Rework to give the forceful personalities more input. But I think you will enjoy anyway.

Lays of the Hearth Fire, modern AU: Buru Tovo gets a phone and is using it to ruin his younger cousins' lives.

It was well known in Solaara that Secretary of State Mdang would not tolerate emoluments of any kind, so when he took his Buru Tovo to his favorite hot pot restaurant, the waiters made them wait ten minutes for a table and promptly abandoned them there. Buru Tovo watched as Cliopher, without breaking his explanation, pulled up the menu from the QR code and passed it over to him. It occurred to Cliopher belatedly that Buru Tovo might not know how to use a touch screen – he had certainly never seen him operate a phone – but by the time he finished his sentence Buru Tovo seemed to have figured out how to scroll.

He pointed at what he wanted and told Cliopher, and Cliopher sighed a little at the technical ineptitude of the older generation, took his phone back, entered the order, and paid. He thought little of it at the time; he was far more concerned with ensuring Buru Tovo was comfortable, and as little disappointed by Cliopher’s life in Solaara as he could be.

He’d really just been hoping Buru Tovo would enjoy the whole prawns.

---

Some months and far too many sudden jet trips later, Cliopher found himself sitting in Gorjo City with Fitzroy, across the table from Buru Tovo at a restaurant that wasn’t Esha’s. It wasn’t that Esha would disapprove, she happily acknowledged the joy of good junk food, but he suspected she would have some feelings about his taking the Last Emperor of Astandalas to a fry shop. Even a good fry shop. Even the one Buru Tovo sat at to play dominoes when he was in Gorjo City.

He was watching Buru Tovo quietly and politely grill Fitzroy on his aptitude and Islander when he heard what was unmistakably the sound of a Grindr notification. He glanced at Fitzroy, whose hand reached toward his pocket and stilled again; not his. Well and good, except that in the next lull of conversation Buru Tovo pulled a phone out of his grass skirt and, with the air of the very old, swirled his finger several inches from the screen before distinctly swiping right and putting the phone away again as if nothing had happened.

Cliopher wondered briefly if his Buru Tovo’s husband – Vou’a – knew that Buru Tovo was swiping right on hookup apps, and decided this was none of his business. It was, after all, far more surprising that Buru Tovo knew how to use a phone. He had not, to Cliopher’s knowledge, handled money until he had come to visit Cliopher in Solaara. Cliopher was fairly certain that if Buru Tovo had suddenly gotten money somewhere, purchased a phone, and obtained a phone plan, someone in the family would have mentioned it.

He wouldn’t have mentioned it to Buru Tovo, except that there was a TV playing the news in the corner of the restaurant. Buru Tovo sat facing it, and when they heard Prince Rufus’s voice describing the latest legislation he was taking a stand against, Cliopher sighed involuntarily.

Buru Tovo shook his head disapprovingly. “That man,” he said, in tones of agreement, “does not understand the give and the take.”

Fitzroy coughed around his sandwich. Cliopher reached over and gave him a few hearty pats on the back, which seemed to help.

And he wouldn’t have commented on that except his cousin Faila was at the next table, and she caught the motion of Cliopher whacking Fitzroy’s back and said, “Why, it’s Cousin Kip! You look fine in those fancy clothes. Is Tovo making inappropriate comments about politicians again?”

“Again?” Cliopher echoed. He looked at Buru Tovo, tongue caught. Look. Listen. Questions later.

But Buru Tovo was in a forthcoming mood. He shook his head sadly. “Spent some extra time in Solaara after you left,” he said. “Those politicians, eh, very handsome young men, but disappointing.”

Cliopher was not sure he was prepared to grant Buru Tovo either the handsome or the young part of that description, though he had certainly had his share of disappointments.

Faila rolled her eyes, a gesture so redolent of their shared youth when she was starting at the puppet theater that Cliopher was struck with a sudden bout of déjà vu.

“Ever since he got back from Solaara he’s inseparable from that thing,” she complained. “We told him it’s not healthy, but he’s completely addicted to it. As bad as my granddaughter.”

Some people, Kip was reminded, had grandchildren. He restrained his sigh. The Grindr notification chimed again.

“It’s a good way to meet people,” Buru Tovo said blandly. “I am making friends with princes all over the world.”

“Friends,” Faila repeated sarcastically. “Princes. Half of them are real politicians, and the other half claim that if he just wires them money they’ll send him twice as much in return.”

“He doesn’t send them -” Cliopher began. Pig butchering scams were one of the problems he’d been glad to leave in Aioru’s hands.

“Of course not,” Buru Tovo said. “Couldn’t figure out the wiring nonsense. I just give them the bank information.”

Fitzroy, who had read Cliopher’s report on the pig butchering at least, looked appalled. He had agreed on the priority Cliopher had assigned the problem, and so on their not having gotten round to it before handing the government over to Aioru. Cliopher had been glad, when Fitzroy – his Radiance that was – left to find his heir, that at least he knew not to answer the pig butchering ledes. It was one less thing to worry about. Had been one less thing to worry about.

“You just give them the -” Cliopher began, a second time.

“Bah. I’m not using it,” said Buru Tovo, inarguably. He didn’t use money, after all. Cliopher could see the logic. If there was anything in the account – if the account existed in the first place – someone ought to get use out of it. And the stipend had, after all, in part, been Cliopher’s attempt at an answer to the problem of scams. No one could be entirely taken in if they could always count on having something to live on. “They all seem worried when they look at it anyway. Keep telling me to take the stipend again.”

“All?” Fitzroy inquired mildly, his eyes dancing. Fitzroy could not be trusted with family matters.

“Maybe you can talk him out of it,” Faila said, gathering her things. “I’m done trying.”

“Young people don’t know how to live without all these modern gadgets,” Buru Tovo said, waving his phone. “I tell them how to start fires, find food on the islands, get their passports back from their supervisors…”

Cliopher blinked. “You’re being tanà. To scammers.”

Buru Tovo was abruptly more serious. “If someone comes to the tanà for answers, he does not get turned away.”

“So they’re. Wontok?” Cliopher asked, several things clicking together in his head.

Buru Tovo huffed. “Don’t have to be Islander to come to the tanà for help,” he said. “You taught me that.”

His phone dinged again. He picked it up, scowled, swiped left; then made an impressed face, nodding, and swiped authoritatively – if still in the most geriatric fashion Cliopher could imagine.

“Palace guard training them up well these days,” Buru Tovo commented, and spun his phone round for Fitzroy to take a look.

#theory and chalk #I'm not tagging this because it's still in first draft stage #my vendetta against restaurants with QR code menus is not present in the fic but it is present in my life #evil evil places especially when they don't tell you ahead of time that you need a QR code reader thingummy

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buffetlicious · 1 year ago

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Saw the advertisement on television promoting the bundle deal of three dishes by Tun Xiang Hokkien Delights (豚香福建馆). Thought that it was a good deal plus the fact I have not been to the place yet. Dragged mum along to Northpoint City mall on a hot weekend afternoon since I couldn't possibly finish the set meal alone.

Upon seated, the wait staff informed us that you can scan the QR code on the table to access the digital menu plus order. Placed ordered for the Bundled Deal (S$28.80++) consisting of the Signature Hokkien Mee, Iberico Pork Fried Beancurd and White Pepper Collagen Pig Stomach Soup.

The Signature Hokkien Mee (招牌黑猪福建面) came with a mixture of yellow noodles and bee hoon (rice vermicelli) served over banana leaf. At a glance, one can spot prawns, squids, matchstick sized pork and plenty of deep-fried pork lards soaked in the gravy. While the overall taste is decent, the flavour profile of the prawn is not pronounced enough like they didn’t use enough prawn heads and shells to render out the prawn oil.

Both of us enjoyed the Iberico Pork Fried Beancurd (酥炸黑猪酿卜) a lot. The minced pork is well seasoned and stuffed into fried bean curd puffs before going into hot oil. The puff outside is crispy while the meat is juicy. Remember to dip the whole thing into the sweet thick sauce for the complete package before devouring it.

Was reminded that the White Pepper Collagen Pig Stomach Soup (胶原胡椒猪肚汤) is hot when it was served. It came with thinly sliced Iberico pork, tripe, fish maw and garnished with coriander and chilli. Taking a sip of the soup, I can detect the stickiness of the collagen on the lips and the spiciness of peppercorns though I would have enjoyed a stronger peppery taste. Both the tripe and pork were tender enough but the fish maw needs a longer cooking time to get to the softer texture I preferred.

While I enjoyed the meal, mum is a lot harder to please. She claims that the noodles look like last night leftover and other than the fried bean curd, I don’t think she like the other two dishes.

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bukicoochie · 5 months ago

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Checkpoint

LEVEL 1 — STAGE 01

w.c — 2.7k

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“Flamecrest, flamecrest…”

Aether mutters to himself, fingers gliding through the keyboard as he searches the internet for details of the pizza place. He squinted his eyes, readjusting his glasses against the glaring white light of the screen.

“Let’s see… Flamecrest Pizza House, located by Children of Echoes, Natlan… that’s over six thousand— ‘delivers anywhere (yes, anywhere, even Snezhnaya)’?” The blond’s brows furrowed in confusion at the information displayed on the ad. “Takes what, days—?”

Aether spotted a glaring, ‘in under an hour!’ on the weirdly glittery online advertisement.

“… No way.”

He looked skeptically at his phone as he clicked a link redirecting him to a website where he could detail his order and whatnot. Deciding on a simple classic meat, he input his address and the likes. Under the payment method, he rolled his eyes and spotted his sister walking into the living room unsuspectingly,

“Lumine, you owe me a couple of mora. Let me use your e-wallet.”

“… I just walked in??” Lumine looked irritated, still taking out her phone.

“Don’t care, let me use it for pizza.”

“Stingy. I want some.”

Lumine showed him a QR code, now less bothered and simply bored. After scanning, Aether smiled and ordered.

“Call me over when it’s here.” Lumine waved off before going to her room. Aether was left with his thoughts, somewhat left in anticipation.

‘Maybe (Name) would be the one to deliver it? After all, she seemed to always be in a rush with the rollerblades…’

Aether rushed to the couch facing the door, lightly fidgeting with his shirt as he waited in sheer anticipation. After about twenty minutes of his eyes flickering to his phone’s weather app and the door, he leaned back to try and relax.

As soon as the first knock came, he was already by the door and opening it. He was instantly met with dark green and amber eyes, stoically looking back.

“… Oh.” Aether bore a poker face.

“Classic meat for… Lumine?” Kinich presented the box to Aether, who accepted it dejectedly.

“You don’t look like a (Name)…” The blond grumbled, mostly to himself. Kinich hums. “You don’t look like a Lumine either.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to say that. I was… kind of expecting someone else to deliver.” Aether scratched his head sheepishly, feeling a bit silly at his previous tone. Kinich shook his head.

“(Name)? Well, yes. She’s in charge of most deliveries. Just specifically not this one.”

“Specifically?”

“Yup. Saw the information provided and asked me to do it instead, in exchange for five deliveries. Weird. Never was that picky with who she’d deliver for.” The male shrugged.

“Saw the info…?” Aether was confused. “Er… did she ever say why?”

“Nope.”

“Would you think it’d be creepy if I asked you for her number or for you to give her my number?”

“Yeah.”

“…” Aether could do nothing but sigh in defeat. “Alright, alright. Thank you for the delivery.”

“You’re welcome… Lumine.”

Kinich quickly took his leave before even seeing the bewildered look on Aether’s face. He closed the door and practically tossed the box on the table, sulking on the couch.

After a few hours, Aether woke up on the couch. Looking to the right, light from the streetlight came in with the pizza box missing from the table. The blond grumbled, messing with his hair a bit to wake himself up.

“… Ugh, I need to go outside.”

Putting on a sweater, he gathered his hair into a high ponytail instead of the usual braid and left. Pressing on his phone as he walked, it was about a quarter before eight pm. Aether just surveyed his surroundings.

A cold breeze blew by, causing him to shiver. He looked around and saw a small cafe exuding a comfortable atmosphere. Entering, Aether was pleased by the warm temperature inside. Ordering a latte, Aether looked around for a seat and saw the familiar (h/c)-hair by a booth near the exit. Gathering his bearings, the blond carefully approached the lone (Name).

“… Can I sit with you?”

(Name) looked up from her warm beverage to see a familiar blond, thinly veiled embarrassment present on his expression. She nods, smiling back while gesturing to the seat across.

“Not going to run away on me again at least, right?”

“Ah… of course.” Aether chuckled as he sat down on the plush seat. “Sorry about that. I was just…embarrassed.”

“Don’t be. I thought it was kind of cute. Ask people if they’re real often?”

(Name) looked to be having a well deserved jest from his actions, Aether noted. Kind of deserved, but still. The blond only sighed.

“I wasn’t thinking. Forget about it, please—“

“I understand.” (Name) chuckled, taking a sip of her drink. Aether paused at the reply. “Understand how? You know about it?”

“Yeah. Kind of my fault, sorry man.”

“You fault…that you appear in my dreams a lot?”

“You just have this… really convenient subspace highway running through your head.” (Name) points to the male’s forehead, the other hand on her beverage. Aether blinked twice, subtly tilting his head. “… huh?”

“It’s…” (Name) sighs. “Just… think of it as your dreamscape being a quick, traffic-less road that gives me the ability to travel shorter.”

“What, you just cross other people’s minds without trouble?”

“Mostly yours, but somewhat.”

“You're confusing.” Aether narrowed his eyes. ‘Does that mean she can read minds—‘

“No, I can’t read minds by the way,”

Aether flinched in pure disbelief, backing into the cushioned booth instinctively. (Name) laughs.

“I’m kidding, by the way. Your face just… kinda makes you easy to read.” The (h/c)-haired female took another sip to warm herself up as a waiter came to put Aether’s latte on the table. Aether takes the coffee and holds it between his palms to warm his hands.

“So me asking if you were real was totally justified.”

“Yup.” (Name) hums. “Sorry about that. It just makes it really convenient to travel from Natlan to here. Especially since I work delivering pizzas for people here.”

“No worries.” Aether took the time to look carefully at the female’s features. “I just… thought I was either hallucinating or dreaming when I first saw you outside a dream ‘cause you know. I mostly see you in my dreams rushing somewhere.”

“Yeah.” (Name) looks up and hums, smiling. “Hey, your hair looks better that way.”

Aether smiled back, albeit a tad bashfully. “Thank you. I mostly keep it in a braid.”

“Seems like your go-to. You always have a braid in most of the dreams I see you in.” (Name) placed down the now mostly empty cup, sighing. “Looks like I’m heading home now.”

“Already?” Aether felt his stomach drop. “I um, want to…go out sometime?”

“Like in a date way or what?” (Name) seemed to take delight in the nervous exterior of the male, his cheeks tinted red in a soft flush.

“It doesn’t need to be, just…” Aether pressed his lips together before smiling and tucking loose hair to the side of his face. “I don’t know… I think you’d be fun to hang out with.”

Being met with a lack of reply, the blond lightly fidgeted with his warm take-out cup. “I mean, like, I don’t think I’ve seen you around here before and thought maybe you could use some help navigating the city? It’s um, just you have a nice voice and you—“

“Sounds fun.” (Name) interrupted the start of Aether’s prattling, not seeming to mind. “Wanna go right now?”

Aether looked ecstatic before coughing to make it less obvious on his face. He stood up. “I— yes. C-can I buy you a drink? So we both have something warm to drink while we walk around.”

(Name) nods, standing up as well. “I’d like that.”

“So you’ve lived here before, moved away, then came back? And we even went to the same high school?”

A thin layer of snow crunched between their boots as Aether couldn’t help but regret not putting on a thicker layer of clothing before going on this walk. How the hell would he have known it would snow tonight?

(Name) hums in response to his questions.

“Well, yeah. I mean, we at least must’ve crossed each other’s paths at least once.” (Name) removed her gloves and offered it to Aether. The blond shook his head, to which (Name) snickered at.

“Dude, I can see you shivering. Just take it at least. My hoodie’s thicker.”

Muttering out a statement of gratitude, Aether accepted the gloves and held his cheeks. Lingering heat from the gloves made his heart thump quicker.

“Still, I think I’d at least remember you. Even try to befriend you. You seem cool from first glance already.”

“Eh, I wasn’t much back then.” (Name) drank from the chosen beverage Aether had bought for her. “You look somewhat familiar to me, if that helps?”

“Somewhat…” Aether jokingly sulked. “By the way, why did you move away?”

“Family stuff. Kind of moved around a lot, honestly. Then I just chose to move here again.”

“Wait, like actually here? I thought you were from Natlan since you worked there.”

“I moved here, applied to a job that takes a long time to get from here as a joke and got the job.” (Name) sighed. “I mean, pays well. And thanks to your mindscape, it’s doable.”

Aether deadpans at the (h/c)-haired female, who only laughed at the face. “Hey, it’s fun to skate around!”

Having approached a deserted playground, (Name) tugs Aether to the direction of the swings. Dusting away some snow that gathered on the seats, she took a seat on one while the blond took the other. With both drinks gone by now, (Name) rubbed her hands together from the lingering cold touch of the snow.

“See, I told you.” Aether removed the gloves and presented his palms. “Give it here.”

(Name) places her hands between Aether’s, the chains holding the swings creaking as she turns her body. Aether moved his hands lower to lose contact before a small fire erupts, hovering over his hands and under (Name)’s.

“You have a pyro vision? Cool.” (Name) looked pleased by the warmth. Aether chuckled. “It’s complicated.”

“… Seriously though, you look really really familiar.”

Aether looks up to find (Name) already looking at him intensely. He backed away by a miniscule distance, feeling the heat crawl back up his cheeks.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Maybe you were the cool one who didn't notice me.” (Name) winked, removing the serious and slightly romantic atmosphere between them. Aether snorted, freezing up as (Name) laughed at him.

“Hey—!”

The two’s short banter was interrupted by a strong, snow-filled breeze blowing against them. The fire on Aether’s palms diminished as they both shielded themselves from the snow.

“Yikes, it’s picking up now.”

Aether nods at the remark as he looks around. Crap, they were pretty far from his home. And most shops were closing by now.

“We need to go back before it gets worse.” (Name) stood up and pulled Aether up from the swing seat. “You live near?”

“Y-yup!”

“Liar. Close your eyes for me, yeah?”

Aether does as ordered, yelping as an arm hooked under his knees and behind his back, picking him up. With two loud clicks below, Aether could feel the cold nipping at his body as the wind rushed past. (Name) was skating, carrying him as the speed increased.

“Door, door… gonna need to use your head for this one, Aether. I’ll be quick.”

The sound of tires echoed through the blond’s head as he began to picture a… wooden door? Coming closer and closer. The knob twisted before (Name) grunts. Next thing he knew, they both crashed on a carpeted floor. Aether finally opens his eyes.

(Name) stood up, wobbling and closing the door behind her. Tapping on the heels of her shoes, the tires of the rollerblades retracted. She took off her shoes and donned on some slippers.

“Sorry for the bad landing. Make yourself at home.”

(Name) helped him up and dusted off some snow that gathered on Aether’s sweater and hair.

“…”

Aether looked up and brushed away some snow gathered on (Name)’s hair and clothing as well. Golden yellow eyes meet (e/c) ones, to which the female smiled at.

“The snow’s really picking up… would you like to stay the night? I don’t like having to send others out at such a bad weather.”

“If you don’t mind.”

“Not at all.”

Something furry curls around Aether’s leg. Both looked down to see a white persian cat, purring.

“Oh, kaede… I have two cats, by the way. Hope you don’t mind.”

(Name) stepped back, leaving the intimate scene for now. “Coffee, tea, or hot chocolate?”

“You—r t-tea, thank you.” Aether gripped his arm to divert his embarrassment. (Name) raised a brow. “Really?”

“…Yeah, why?”

“Dunno… you seem more like a hot chocolate or coffee kind of guy. Then again, it’s night…”

“Hot…chocolate.” Aether chuckled sheepishly. “Um, sorry. I panicked.”

(Name) looked amused, nodding as she disappeared into another room. The blond’s eyes lingered on the doorway before he sunk into the couch.

“Your tea? What the hell…?!” Aether buried his face on the pillow. “This is so lame!”

After about a minute or so of sulking and wishing the couch would swallow him whole, Aether’s phone vibrated. Taking it out, he saw a message from Lumine asking where he’d gone. After sending her a message that he’d be gone for the night, he went back to facing a pillow.

Next thing he knew, a thick blanket was laid on his body, causing him to sit up and look at the female. (Name) held two cups of hot chocolate, melting marshmallows on top of the brown expanse.

“Kind of thought you passed out on me, honestly.”

“No, just wallowing.” Aether adjusted the blanket and scooted over to provide some space. He reached out for a cup and took a sip, sighing in relief at the warmth. (Name) sat down beside him with her own cup.

Aether scooted closer, laying the blanket on them both. (Name) leaned against him, sighing.

“This is nice.”

“Yeah.”

Aether could barely focus, having taken multiple sips and nearly burning his tongue to remind himself that he wasn’t dreaming. (Name) remained in the same position for a while longer before reaching out to the table and grabbing the remote, turning on the television.

Mindless noise from a drama movie went in on one ear and out the other for Aether as he leaned back comfortably.

“Sorry. I didn’t know the weather would pick up this quickly tonight.”

“Don’t be. I didn’t either, yet I still suggested we go out tonight.” (Name) assured, taking a sip of the hot drink. “Look on the bright side though, not the worst date I’ve ever been on.”

“Hah…” Aether let out a short laugh. “How low is the bar, exactly?”

“Ahem. This was actually pretty fun.” (Name) avoided the question and chuckled, looking to the side to meet Aether’s eyes. “For a date-slash-doesn’t-need-to-be-a-date, just-a-hang-out thing.”

Neither backed away at the surprisingly small distance. (E/c) eyes returned the same intensity that made Aether’s heart palpitate. Television and drinks forgotten, (Name) hums.

“… Sorry, do you want me to back away?”

“No. Do you want to back away?”

“No.”

“Good.”

As the noises from the television blurred, Aether found himself leaning in. Seeing the signal, (Name) does the same until their lips meet. Using his free hand, Aether cups the female’s cheeks to stabilize. With closed eyes, slight twinkling was heard around the both of them until they eventually pulled away. Neither of them looked elsewhere.

“Sparks…” Aether murmurs. (Name) blinked once. Then twice, then shifts her gaze at the small sparks hovering around them. She looked… less dazed and more confused.

“… Sparks? What…?”

“You… didn’t feel it too?” Aether’s expression drops, expression bearing semblance to a kicked puppy.

“No no. I… felt something but…” She reached out to one of the twinkling lights, dissipating as soon as she touched it. “Sparks are real?”

The two moved away from each other as (Name) clutched the cup and Aether leaned close in concern. “What’s wrong?”

“… Nothing’s wrong. I just thought people… were joking with me with these sparks fly crap. It’s my first time actually feeling it for myself, you know?” She looked sheepish. “Man, I owe so many people apologies.”

“Is that a bad thing?” Aether waited with baited breath for the response. Much to his relief, (Name) shook her head.

“No, no. It’s… good. Really good.”

“Would you maybe…wanna kiss again?”

#checkpointae #genshin impact #aether #aether au #genshin au #genshin modern au #genshin aether #aether x reader #aether x you #genshin #genshin fic #—akibuki

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seenoversundown · 1 year ago

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Sparrow Of the Dawn : Chapter 2

Warnings: Drinking, Self deprecating humor, otherwise fluff - unfortunately comedic themes.

Word Count: 3.7k

Summary : Sam unfortunately finds himself in not so meet cute with Willa. Hopeful that he doesn't cross her path again; the world works in mysterious ways and not always in your favor.

Author's Note: I was too excited for you to meet Willa officially, and want you to love her as much as I do! The official posting schedule for Sparrow of The Dawn will be on Sundays. Things are only beginning for these two and boy does it get GOOOD. 💜

You’re So Vain - Carly Simon “You’re so vain You probably think this song is about you”

Honestly speaking, I don’t even know why I’m here. Dating is not something that is hugely important to me. I like my independence too much and really there is nothing a man can do for me that I can’t already do for myself. I said what I said. But Katie swore up and down that this guy, Jeff, was a good guy, and I needed to get out of the house. Or, at least, I thought I wanted to get out of the house until this morning.

My roommate Quinn has been going through a terrible, messy breakup with a complete ASS of a man. It’s their first break-up I’m going through with them; even though we met in college a few years ago, they’ve never really dated much. In my attempt to cheer them up, though they don’t seem like they really need it, I went to the farmers market to grab them some flowers and ran into another complete ASS of a man. It has left me feeling a bit hopeless regarding the male species.

So anyway, here I am.. At a bar.. On a first date. He clearly put a lot of effort into this. He didn’t bother to get out of the car when he came to pick me up, didn’t open the front door when we got here, and he’s wearing a Celtics jersey over a white t-shirt and Timberlands. Not exactly my type, but I'm trying hard not to let my shitty day sour my mood and attempt to give him the benefit of the doubt. I, however, wore a short black sleeveless dress with a high neck, a black leather blazer jacket, tights, and ankle boots because I was trying to impress him. Like I said, the difference in effort is astounding.

After getting our IDs checked by the tall, curly-headed bouncer, we settle into a booth toward the back, looking over the paper menu at the drink specials. I’m surprised there isn’t a QR code menu here. I heard the owner of this place was fairly young, and most places nowadays use QR codes over regular menus.

“What are you going to get?” I ask Jeff, trying to make conversation. He’s busy looking at his phone instead.

“Huh?” not even bothering to look up at me, “Oh, uhm, I’ll probably just get a bud light or something.”

Riiiiight, okay. I really should have stayed home. I let out a huff of air, resting my chin against my hand. Bored with lack of conversation and an underwhelming date, I take to people-watching. There’s so much life in this bar tonight, such a stark contrast to the man sitting across from me. People in their costumes, brightly colored wigs, all adorning smiles and laughing loudly. The red hue from the neon lights and colorful display of the jukebox only added to the atmosphere. Carly Simon sings to me through the speakers. I close my eyes, listening to her words, I always loved this song. I wonder if he’d even notice if I left and weaseled my way into one of these stranger’s tables instead. No, probably not.

“So, do you want a beer or something?” Jeff asks plainly.

“Yeah, I’ll just have one of whatever you’re having.” I don’t even like beer that much. I’m more of a rum kind of gal. Something tells me he wants to be here as much as I do and doesn’t actually care what I’d like to drink.

“Okay, I’ll be right back.” I give him a small smile as he gets up and heads toward the bar to place our order. At least he’s starting a tab for us; I can count that as a win.

My eyes scan the bar once more, searching for a form of entertainment, when I spot him behind the bar, standing next to a shorter man with a mustache who looks eerily similar to him. The guy from the flower truck. They’re both staring at me, but only one of them has the decency to look away when I make eye contact, and it's not the flower guy. What the ever-loving fuck is he doing here? Does he work here? There’s no way he’s the owner. No way. Right? I avert my gaze as Jeff returns with two bottles of Bud Light, sliding me one across the table. I internally sigh, knowing this date is going to drag.

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Maybe if I squint, my ears will start to focus and listen to what Jeff is actually saying. I have no idea what he’s been going on about, but I swear it’s been half an hour, and I’ve retained nothing. Is he talking about sports? His job? A hobby?

“I think they’ll probably end up making a trade,” he says, his phone still in his hand.

Literally no fucking idea. It's not like he’s taken any interest in me or made any attempt to make this conversation anything other than one-sided. I opt to search for him again, curiosity taking its hold on my eyes.

“You guys all set?” Flower truck guy says, right behind me. It startles me so bad I jump a little, causing me to knock over my half-drunk beer.

“Shit,” I say, standing up and trying to find some napkins, “I’m so sorry.” God, can this night get any worse?

“Oh fucks sake,” Jeff says just as it spills onto his lap. “Are you kidding me?” All he does is glare at me with his hands up, helpless. Yes. Yes, it can get worse, apparently.

Flower truck guy sets down the towel previously stored in his back pocket and starts to wipe up my mess. Great, I’ve spilled my drink on my date, and as boring as he is, I still wanted to make a good impression, and the guy who took all the irises I wanted to get for Quinn is now cleaning up my mess. I can’t believe how much of a disaster this is right now.

“Katie didn’t say you were so fucking clumsy,” his annoyed tone is like knives against my brain.

“It was an accident, Jeff,” I say, throwing him back some attitude.

He takes the towel right from Flower Boy's hand and starts to try to clean himself up. In realizing it's a bit too wet from mopping up the table he tosses it back to him.

“God, girls,” he rolls his eyes and elbows Flower Boy, “amiright?”

“Yeahhh, don’t bring me into that commentary, champ.” Flower boy raises his eyebrows. Jeff scoffs at him and turns, heading toward, what I can assume is the bathroom.

I sit back down in my chair and rest my head in my hands. “Good god,” I say aloud, mostly to myself. I can count on two hands how many times I’ve thought about the fact that I should have stayed home. Next time, I’ll trust my gut. It’s damn near never led me astray.

“What a winner you got there, dagger fingers.”

I lift my head then and glare at him for the second time that day. Dagger fingers? I don’t care how unsuccessful my date is going or how much of a douchebag he just was. I will not let this man get the better of me again. I take a deep breath in through my nose, trying to calm down.

“Would you be happy if you just got a drink spilled on you? No, I don’t suppose you would be.” I try to lay the snark on thick.

He looks around confused, “Last time I checked..Yeah,” he shakes his head up and down aggressively, “Yeah, I do work in a bar. Do you have any idea how often that occurs?” It's my turn to scoff. “You really shouldn’t defend that guy. He’s a dick. He brings all his dates here. He was literally here two days ago with a different girl. Sorry to be the bearer of bad news.” He reaches for the discarded towel and walks off.

Oh, this guy. The fucking audacity of this guy. Who the hell does he think he is? I immediately grab my pocketbook and jacket and stalk after him, following his footsteps all the way to the counter where he’s handing the shorter guy from earlier the tray and towel he had been holding.

“Do you know what your fucking problem is?” I huff out, jabbing him in the chest with my finger. You call my fingers daggers, and I’ll use them as such. I set my purse on the counter to my right and slip on my jacket.

Mustache man lets out a loud laugh, “Oh sweetheart, you don’t even know the half of it.”

“Uhm.. Ow?” he says, rubbing at his shoulder. “And you, shut up. I wanna know exactly what my problem is. This should be good.” He crosses his arms against his chest. Waiting. In my flurry of anger, I hadn’t exactly worked out what his problem actually is. Just that he seems fucking arrogant and has been a thorn in my side one too many times today. “She doesn’t even know me. She’s just accosted me, twice in one day, in fact, and is now making assumptions based on nothing. Thanks for that, by the way, I don’t know how I got to be so lucky.” he finishes.

I can see the surprised look on Jake’s face in my periphery. “Aww,” I place my hand on my chest, “cute of you to talk about me already. I’ll tell you, I am a bit surprised, though, considering you think you’re the only person to walk the planet. It’s like the whole world revolves around you. Flower Boy’s world, and we're all just livin’ in it." I emphasize my sentiment with a dramatic roll of my eyes.

Another howl of laughter escapes the peanut gallery to my right. Flower Boy rubs his fingers across his chin, eyes narrowing on me. “Yeah, I’m clearly the problem here. But it’s not my date that’s sneaking out the front door and leaving me with the bill, now is it, Babydoll ?” He raises his eyebrows toward the entrance. As I follow his line of sight toward the door, I just make out the back of Jeff’s head as it closes behind him. Wonderful. I turn back around, and my eyes land on the smirk resting on his lips. If he wasn’t so cocky in this moment, I might appreciate that smirk. The thought alone only serves to fuel my anger.

“Hey,” Jake says, tapping the bar rapidly to get our attention, effectively drawing my gaze away from his lips, “Listen, I would love to listen to you humble Sammy boy here. But you’re slowly entertaining the entire bar. Either talk it out quietly or go get some fresh air… Please.”

I pause to glance around at the eyes trained on us. A wave of embarrassment washes over me. Taking that opportunity to dig through my bag, I pull out a twenty-dollar bill and slam it onto the counter, looking Sammy Boy directly in the eyes. “Thanks for the amazing hospitality, Jake. I’ll make sure to give you a 5-star review. You deserve it, dealing with this schmuck.”

As I exit, I pull out my phone and step to the side, trying to order myself an Uber now that I’ve been abandoned. I swear to god, Katie is never going to hear the end of this when I see her next. I tap through the app and hit another extraordinary stroke of luck today. There are no drivers available. The heavy creek of the front door opens, and Flower Noy.. Sammy pops his head out. There is nowhere for me to hide, fuck.

As he approaches me, he has his hands up in mock surrender. “Look, why don’t you just have a seat at the bar? We’ll get a replacement drink.. On the house, you can just hang out for a bit.” He then reaches into his back pocket and pulls out my twenty from earlier and hands it to me. I snatch it from him with a bit more force than I intend. Why is he being nice to me now? And why is it so irritating?

My phone vibrates in my hand, and I swipe the notification. A driver has picked up my ride, oh thank god.

“I’d rather rot in hell, actually.” I regret the words as soon as they're out of my mouth. I regret them even more when I dare to look him in the face. I may not like him, but it's not his fault my date was an asshole. He’s just the unfortunate person to continually be on the receiving end of.. Well me. I can feel the will to stay angry start to dissipate as the guilt takes over; I’m more tired and ready for this day to be over than anything right now.

Sammy just sighs loudly, mumbling under his breath, “Not sure why I even bother,” before disappearing back inside. Ugh.

When the Uber arrives, I slide my phone back into my purse and hop into the back seat. Thankfully, my driver is a man of few words, in lieu of conversation, I instead let the words of ‘Crimson and Clover’ dance around my ears.

“When she comes walking over

Now I've been waitin' to show her

Crimson and clover”

I lean my head back against the headrest, my emotions hitting a breaking point. I really can’t remember the last time I suffered such a series of unfortunate events. Finally boiling over, a single tear spills from my eye. Wiping it away quickly, I shake my head. You do not cry. I tell myself. You do not cry.

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I shut the front door to my apartment and lean against it. The highest, feral scream escapes my mouth, and I slink down, sitting on my heels. I hear Quinn’s footsteps and a quick shut of their bedroom door before I see them round the corner. The heavy thuds running to my aid.

“Jesus fucking Christ, are you okay?” They say exasperatedly, hanging on to their bedroom doorway. “You’d have thought you were being murdered with a scream like that.”

“If I lay down on the floor, can you just drop something heavy on my skull and put me out of my misery?” I look over to them, displeasure written all over my face. They make their way into the living room sitting on the couch and propping their feet up on the coffee table.

“I take it the date didn’t go well?” My only response is a glare. “Do we need a therapy session then?”

“How much time do you have?” I frown.

They take their phone out of their back pocket, tapping a few times. “Yeah, my schedule is clear tonight.” Sending me a small smile.

“I just.. Urrrrrgh,” I stand in a huff, shrugging off my jacket and discarding it next to my purse on the floor. “I definitely should have never left the house today. Period. At all. For anything.” I whine. Taking a moment to unzip my boots and kick them off, adding to my pile, and finally sliding my feet into my comfy slippers.

“Firstly, there was that whole guy and the flowers I told you about this morning, right?” The sounds of my slippers scuff against the hardwood floor as I pace back and forth. “Then that date Katie set me up on, Jeff? Boring as hell. I mean, he immediately gave me ehh vibes when he couldn’t be bothered to come meet me at the door, but.. Whatever. I gave him the benefit of the doubt.” I dramatically wave my arms around. “Because I’m trying to be nice and not close myself off. We get to the bar, he can’t be bothered to look up from his fucking phone at all. Then, guess who I see there? AT the bar?”

“.. who?” Quinn inquires

“The fricken GUY from the flower truck! The world is too small, I swear to GOD. ANYWAY.” I run my hands down my face. “So Jeff finally decides he wants to speak actual words to me. Does he ask me any questions about myself? NO, he just rants about I dont know, only god knows what because I couldn’t fucking tell you. Flower guy sneaks up behind me to check on our table because I guess he works there or something, and he scares the SHIT out of me, and I spill my drink.. Where? ALL over Jeff's lap. It was sooooo cute.” I drop my arms to my sides, and my hands smack against my thighs. The sound reverberates through the open room. When I look back at Quinn, they’re staring at their bedroom door. Weird but okay.

“I’ve pretty much prayed to the cosmic universe to swallow me up at this point in the evening but then what happens? Arrogant Flower Boy decides to sass me about my date, so I yelled at him. His brother behind the bar was cackling, listening to the whole thing, and then he basically kicked me out. Well.. he told us to shut up or fight outside essentially. And then flower boy.. I don’t know, tried to make amends or something and offered me a drink on the house, and I kinda told him to eat shit...” I push my lips out and give Quinn an innocent side eye, ready for them to read me for filth. “.. and poked him.. Again.” I add, finally. One could say I didn’t handle the course of events correctly today. One could even say that I was a tad bit more rude than necessary. One could say that, not me but… ya know, one could.

“So,” They pause, “how cute is Flower Boy?”

“I mean, he’s got a really great smile. Even if he only uses his mouth to talk shit – Hey. Wait.” I hold up my pointer finger. “Out of everything I've said to you, that's where you ended up?”

“I mean, I’m not going to say you spent more time talking about him than your date.. But you spent more time talking about him than your date, Wills.” they glance down at their phone.

I cannot help but defend myself. “That’s because he is single handedly the most annoying person I have come across in the last like.. Month.”

A ding comes from their bedroom, and I look towards their door with my eyebrows raised. If their phone is in their hand..

They clear their throat, “Sure, so did you want solutions, or did you need to yell?” They rush out, “Because if it’s solutions, we have a bat in the closet, and I have some knitting needles in my room. Bricks out front by the porch, whatever you need.” They let out a chuckle.

Putting a finger to my chin, feigning deep thought, I reply, “That’s not a half-bad idea, Quinny, you may need to put that on the back burner. I do feel a bit better now that I’ve word-vomited some of that out. Thank God I never have to see him again, though.”

“Happy to be obliged, madam. You know I'm always here for whatever you need. Venting or violence, I’ll be there,” They stand and take a bow. “However, I do think you’d feel a lot better with a pamper session. Ya know, face washed, mask applied, those weird little eye patches you put on.” Shooing me a little bit and heading toward their bedroom.

I curtsey in return, “You’re right, thank you, my liege. If you’ll excuse me, I shall retire to my bedchambers for the evening. Because this bitch is tired.”

“Goodnight, Winslow,” they call back to me from their bedroom doorway.

“Goodnight, Quinndolyn Christie.” I giggle.

“That is Ser Quinndolyn Christie to you.”

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I run a makeup remover wipe over my face, taking off my makeup from my failed date. Finding the smallest bit of solace in my nighttime routine and ‘me’ time, Quinn suggested. And you know, they were right. I do feel a bit better wiping off my makeup. I splash some water on my face, creating a slick base for my cleanser. As it foams on my face, I think back to my evening. Honestly, what a mess.

I hear Quinn giggle and shuffling. That’s weird?

Then I hear a loud thud.

I turn and feel around for the door handle, eyes closed so I don’t get my face wash in them. That would hurt like a bitch.

“Hey Quinn, you okay?” I call out.

“Huh? What?”

“I heard a noise.” trying not to get too many of the water droplets falling off my elbows on to the floor below me.

“It was just the knitting needles I was talking about earlier. Was just prepping them for battle. Make sure they were at the ready.” They giggle again.

“It sounded a bit heavier than a knitting needle.”

“Are you sure you’re not hearing things? You should get your ears checked.”

“Okay keep your secrets then.” feeling my way blindly back to my bathroom to wash off my face.

As I apply my various serums and moisturizers, my thoughts find their way back to Sam. Sam. No. Not gunna go there.

I start whispering to myself, “I bet he doesn’t even need to do all this stuff. Stupid, perfect skin on his stupid, perfect face. Probably only uses bar soap. And it’s probably the same bar of soap he uses to wash his ASS.” Yes, that’s it, talking out loud to yourself is completely normal, Willa. Please keep going. I groan internally. “Ridiculous freckles on his ridiculous cheeks bet he’s never heard of SPF specifically for the face. What he should be doing is investing in an exfoliant for his stupidly perfect but chapped lips.”

Woah, now, Willa. What the fuck?? No. Go to bed.

I stare at myself in a mirror for a long minute before I rush to turn off the light and jump into bed. I settle in and wait for the soft plush of my blankets to lull me to sleep.

When I wake up, I look over at my clock. It’s 3:15 a.m., and my first thought is Sam.

Fuck.

<- Chapter One Chapter Three ->

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