#text message tracking
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raddest-laddest · 6 months ago
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ever just get the urge to write everything down?
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gerrysroots · 1 year ago
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Ok disembodied voice trapped in a computer with no way of communicating with the outside world or the other voice that got trapped after you both attempted to escape the Horrors.
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divorceblogger · 2 years ago
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mental illness speedrun
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leonardalphachurch · 6 months ago
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i accidentally did the formatting on an older draft for the secret santa fic so it wasn't fully edited T_T i lost the final edit to the ether but i did go back and fix what i remembered and whatever else i noticed... its just small stuff like grammar and phrasing and making sure character's speech/texting patterns are correct but this is a fic that has to be SO deliberate with the way things are written that its despairing to go back a draft.....
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tardis--dreams · 8 months ago
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Me panicking because i have 9 missed calls and 5 emails talking about my absence and how "a colleague could take over for me" vs. Me knowing it's really not that important no matter how pushy a client is and that on top of it I'm underpaid and have way to much overtime so i shouldn't even care
#i have 14 hours overtime#collected within 2 weeks lol#you know how it's apparently mandatory for companies in germany to have a way track employees working time? yeah we're#the only company in the whole fucking country who doesn't do that (obviously that's not true there's probably plenty more but it's#still not right.) so we don't get paid overtime nor does it get acknowledged in any way#so technically we're not allowed to even it out (which most people try to do anyway because tf do they think they are asking us to work for#free) but I'm dedicated to not collect any more unpaid working hours so i take the liberty to leave work early this week#so today i left at 12pm (and then got home 4 hours later because another person decided to kill themselves by train. they should call me#first. or anyone else taking the train. I'm sure there'd be plenty of volunteers to do the killing if it means not another miserable day#stuck in a disgusting train). and i logged in again at 6pm today to see if i have anything important messages (stupid i know)#and i saw the missed calls and that there had been an email exchange with me in the cc talking about the 'changes' made in one of the#articles and that someone else could do that for me since i couldn't be reached and at first i felt ashamed and scared#but now it's honestly just pissing me off. that asshole can't write emails and communicate requests like normal people can he#he already called me last week about something completely stupid and acts like his matters are the most important shit in the world#fuck you if you can't wait one day you should have sent this a month earlier because i won't stay online everyday#just to see if there might be an 'important' change you want me to make Immediately. bitch.#also missed two calls from my colleague but she didn't send any messages about what she wanted so i asked her because i felt bad for not#being online and turns out she wanted Nothing. just hear how i was. JUST TEXT ME THEN???? I HATE IT HERE FUCK YOU#seriously i don't get paid enough for this to bother me so much. she probably gets 12-15€ more than me per hour#of course she doesn't care about her overtime as much as i do. i get minimum wage which is less than what I'd get if i still worked at uni#as a student assistant so fuck this shit it's really not important or worth it. from now on i'll only put in minimum effort too#sorry got carried away. rant over now i guess#void screams#work stuff
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pareidoleia-echolaleia · 2 years ago
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So some years back I found a tumblr post about cassette recorders and how you can make physical media out of any audio signal.
I thought the concept of this "analog piracy" was cool as fuck! So I did some googling, and found two busted cassette decks in a local thrift stores, along with a stack of old cassettes (some of which I refuse to record over because I will not let your shanties go to waste, Jaap). 90% of the time all the decks need is a belt replacement and a few drops of oil, even if you're not a tinkerer it's very easy to do with some video help I promise.
When I recorded my first tape (a shoddy looking one I was prepared to lose if the machine was somehow not as fixed as I thought it was) I was fucking blown away by the quality??? I just plugged in a phone with spotify and let it do its thing, it was stupid easy. I don't think you're gonna impress any audiophiles with the quality, not that Spotify is anything amazing to begin with, but the fidelity is INSANE.
I seriously urge anyone with a love for old, slightly janky stuff and a hatred for today's endless streaming services and planned obsolescence to see if you can't find yourself a tape deck to fix up.
My eyes have been opened.
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othellotron9000 · 2 years ago
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*runs into your room and steals your JJ comic* NYEHEHEHEHE
HEY WHAT I DON'T BELIEVE YOU ARE EVEN FINISHED WITH THE OTHER ONE YOU TOOK LAST WEEK 🤨
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laurastacey · 1 year ago
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Sometimes I think maybe my anxiety is getting the better of me and I get kinda paranoid and I'm like "should I be worried about that?" And then I spend any amount of time with a particular cousin and I'm like "oh actually, I don't think I even have a problem"
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kuratm · 2 years ago
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@avaere asked: " hey hey hey ------------ wanna see a coooool trick ? ? ?" but the issue about certain onis , more specifically those under the name of arataki itto , is that while most people are given a chance to answer such questions by the one in charge , he does not wait around . there's an impression to be made , one that requires eye contact as he simply squats down towards the ground , claws digging into the soil between them as he --- you guessed it --- scoops up a portion of brown, dry dirt. there's a smirk lingering on the oni's face as he , dreadfully so , shoves his hand confidently towards his widening mouth. he devours the dirt, rocks crunching between sharp teeth ( determination or idiocy ? ? ? ) as he knows people DIGS ! DAREDEVILS ! for what bigger daredevil than an actual oni would see it as suitable and ... normal enough to consume dirt in order to ... impress someone. it's almost concerning how eager itto is about this achievement. " ------------------------- i can eat anythin' y'ant ! " the rocks smash up against the oni's teeth as he ... swallows some of it ... a hand slapping against his chest proudly ; " ain't --- ain't nothin' arataki itto won't put his mouth on ! ! ! no challenge is great enough ! ! ! " is this ... courting ?
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sayu has come to know a certain, eccentric oni whose presence was grand yet entire personality, well...colorful. it's almost funny how much they contrast each other, with the musician of inazuma having cooler colors, mellower temper and quieter nature whereas him being bright, loud and pompous. was it bothersome? honestly, not at all - she's met far, far worse individuals throughout her experience on the stage - and actually enjoyed this energy. the nation of eternity tended to be quite stuck up with past traditions and refused to move onward alongside other nations of teyvat, so the electro wielder found itto's nature a much needed, fresh air.
however...the same couldn't be said for his strange competitiveness. seeing how much effort he puts was commendable, sure, but sayu quickly understood he didn't think through his actions ... hence why amethyst eyes widened in shock when the way, way taller oni kneels and begins putting dirt in his mouth. what in great seven was he thinking?!
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almost instantly, sayu rushed to him and suddenly grabs his hands and forcibly guides them to toss the remaining dirt off. ❛ i-itto-san, please stop that...! spit it out, now...!!! ❜ she can't remember the last time panic took her over like that, but could you blame her?! first off, this was plain unsanitary and secondly, completely unsafe for him! while fussing over itto, a thought popped in her head: what WAS he trying to pull off, in that very moment? regardless, she'd rather focus on making sure he spat it all out and check if he was alright or not.
the pure irony of the inazuman rock musician, whose career rolls around intense music and deep messages, would be quite the worrywart and wouldn't understand the gist behind itto's...impressive gesture, wasn't it? ❛ hahhh...great seven...come on, i'll get you some water, alright...? ❜ if this was his attempt of courting, then it clearly didn't work.
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vaspider · 5 months ago
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Listen to me. Listen very carefully:
They are trying to wear you out.
They are trying to wear you out, and they own most major social media now, along with many major media outlets. The disinformation machine is cranking along. You are going to have to slow the fuck down and read things before you help them wear out other people, too.
So you just saw a post about a real scary bill, hunh? Republicans want to make it a capital offense to pet dogs and repeal The Sky Is Blue Act of 1793, declaring the new official color of the sky to be squant? Damn, that sounds scary.
Let's go look up this fictitious "Make The Sky Squant Again Act" on GovTracker* & on the official legislative tracker on congress.gov!
Well, let's see... GovTracker estimates it has a 1% chance of even getting out of committee and a 0% chance of being enacted, while congress.gov says this bill has 2 cosponsors who have been in the House and combined total of less than a month. The bill doesn't have any actual text, and it was referred to 5 different committees.
That fictitious bill and a hundred others like it are quite literally not worth your time, and more than that, continuing to wring your hands about it and tell other people about the scary scary squant sky bill only does their work for them. It scares people, it makes them spend time and energy on it, and it wears them out. It is a legislative Gish Gallop, meant to throw so many things at people that we can't keep up.
Even calling or messaging your Rep in this case means their staffer has to waste time responding to you and letting you know that Representative Buttzonheads definitely won't support making petting dogs a capital offense, a thing that will never, ever happen regardless.
Staying engaged in this environment is going to require protecting your heart and protecting your energy, yes, but also protecting the energy of others. This is why WWII propaganda posters also included ones taking people to task for spreading panicky rumors and undermining morale.
Do you know why most observant Jews don't eat chicken and dairy together, even though the ban is on red meat and dairy together bc you're not supposed to cook the calf in the milk of its mother?** It's not because we think that chicken might secretly lactate or Just Because. It's because the rabbis decided that if I'm sitting out in public and eating turkey and cheese together, someone might glance at the turkey and mistake it for red meat and think, "oh, well, I know that Spider is a good Jew, there must have been a change, or maybe I can just justify it to myself that if Spider does it, it must be permissible to bend the rules just that much." And I would then be accidentally leading my fellow Jew astray. We are responsible for being even more careful for the sake of others than we are for ourselves.
It's the same principle here. We need to really be careful about the information we are spreading and check things past reading a news site. Is it true? Is it relevant? Is it meaningful? Is the news site one I recognize? Can I find meaningful independent corroboration on another site, which is to say, if I find an article about it on a second site, is it just quoting or rephrasing this site?
Yeah, that is a lot. But that's how we keep them from using us to lead our fellows astray.
*GovTracker is an independent site. They explain their methodology in their About section.
**I cannot say enough how I am not at this time interested in going on a Jewish Side Quest About Dietary Laws on this post. Usually, I love it, but hold off this time, please, y'all. Let's stay on target this once.
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fakeplanetnamek · 3 months ago
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dasniels · 8 months ago
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Don't have to ad much but on this note:
Dear artist on tumblr please remember you can forbid this page from using your stuff for their ai database. It was automatically enabled when rolled out and you have to manually opt out (like sadly with many social media sites). Has to be done for each sideblog individually though.
As they say, fuck around and find out! Or reset if not to your liking.
I don't know who needs to hear this but please please please please please explore the settings. Of your phone, computer, of every app you use. Investigate the UI, toggle some things around and see what happens. You won't break anything irreperably without a confirmation box asking you if you really mean to do that thing. And you can just look up what a setting will do before touching it if you're really worried ok?
Worst case scenario you just have to change the settings back if you don't like what happened but it is so so so important to explore the tools available to you and gain a better understanding for how the stuff you use works.
Even if you already know. Even if you're comfortable with how you use it now. You don't just have to accept whtever experience has been handed to you by default and it's good for you to at least know what's available to you.
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humanjarvis · 4 months ago
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caught in a lie
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synopsis: when you ignore caleb’s calls, he catches you trying to run from the consequences. you make a false promise to appease his anger, not expecting your lie to unravel. but almost immediately, it does.  
tags: based loosely on caleb's "hidden waves" memory, porn with plot, manipulative!caleb x manipulative!reader, brat!reader, mean(ish) dom!caleb, caleb makes out with your cunt for an hour, reader cries, belly bulge, 3 brother mentions but they’re done ironically/out of spite, humiliation, semi-public sex (caleb makes you call and cancel plans with that friend while he fucks you), lines lifted directly from hidden waves in bold pairing: caleb x fem!reader  word count: 3.9k
a/n: love the scene this is based on bc it reminds me of my favorite book from the wattpad era in 300 BC. also this is my first time writing full-on smut and omfg i don't know how people write like 10k of it u guys are wizards. but the response to this will determine how explicitly i write going forward, no pressure
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As the Skyhaven nightscape twinkles around you, you can’t help but feel like you’re forgetting something. 
You’d had a great night: Simone had invited you to a cute café, the owners had given you a free muffin, and the raging storm from this afternoon had dwindled into a drizzle. But still, a sense of foreboding loomed over you, threatening to taint the precious memories you’d made tonight.
“...And next week we can go to this new bar downtown! I heard they have the best drinks, and there’s even a puppy mascot they let walk around and play with guests. Doesn’t that sound fun?” 
“Yeah, sure,” you agree absently, Simone’s words going in one ear and out the other. “I’ll be there.”
As you walk farther down the sidewalk, the vibrant city atmosphere melts away your worries. People of all ages were out splashing in leftover puddles, trying new food stalls, and window shopping in the strip of stores that lit your path. Gradually, you give up on trying to place your unease, surrendering fully to the comfort of the cool night air.
“Hey!” you exclaim, an idea popping into your head. “Do you want to find a photobooth and take some pictures? I want something to remember tonight by.”
“Oh my gosh, absolutely,” Simone responds. “There should be one not too far from here. I went with my brother a few months back! It was really fun.”
At her words, you stop in your tracks. Her enthusiasm is no match for the dread building in your chest. 
Caleb.
Caleb who’d told you to text him when you got to the café, when you were about to leave, and when you were almost home. 
Caleb was what—or who—you were forgetting.
Slowly, you reach your hand into your purse until you feel your phone, digging it out and staring as if it were a venomous animal. Taking a deep breath, you tap the screen awake and immediately lose the air you’d just inhaled. 
7 Unread messages
4 Missed calls
3 New voicemails
Fuck.
“Uh, actually,” you start, chucking the device back into your bag, “I just realized I didn’t bring a brush! There’s no way I can take pictures without fixing my hair—it’s like a bird’s nest up there,” you ramble, giggling nervously. “Can we end the night here?”
“O…kay?” Simone says, clearly confused by the sudden shift in your mood. “Yeah, we can go back now. Your hair looks fine, though.”
Thanking the universe for giving you such an agreeable friend, you walk back to her car, the quickness of your usually unhurried steps betraying your agitation.
He’s gonna kill me, he’s gonna kill me, he’s gonna kill me, you think. 
As the familiar outline of Simone’s car comes into view, she turns to face you. “Do you want a ride to the train station? I told my girlfriend I’d be home at 1:30—I have another hour.”
“Wait!” you cry, throwing your hands out in front of you. She looks at you as if the intensity in your voice is unnecessary. Which is true, because she’s standing a foot away. Quieter this time, you ask, “Would it be okay if I spent the night at your place? Just this once, I promise.” 
“...If you really need to,” she agrees warily. “As long as you don’t mind cat hair.”
When you reach her car, Simone gestures for you to wait as she walks around to the passenger’s side. “I just need to clean up real quick. The granola bar wrappers build up when you’re constantly called in early for emergencies.” 
But when Simone pulls on the door handle, it doesn’t open. “Weird,” she mutters, wiping raindrops onto her jeans. “I swear I unlocked it.” 
She clicks a button on her keys and tries again. Inexplicably, the door still doesn’t budge. “It’s like some force is holding it shut or something,” she says. At that, an alarm sounds in the back of your mind. But before it can reach your consciousness, she continues. “Well, I have a locksmith on speed dial anyway—I’m always losing my keys. But before I call, seriously, are you ok? The way you asked me to stay over….Is there something scary waiting for you at home? Why do you look so worried?”
"It’s probably because I’m home,” the all-too-familiar voice rings out behind you. 
In an instant, your entire body goes rigid. Your now-pounding heart screams at you to run, but you can’t obey without making a scene in front of your friend. 
Plastering a smile on your face, you turn around slowly, as if the longer you took to face him, the more likely he’d be to disappear.  
You had no such luck. Towering over you, umbrella in hand, was Caleb, his normally expressive face a wall of stone. 
Despite his obvious anger, he steps forward to shield you from the downpour and you refrain from taking a step back—against your better judgment.
“Caleb!” you remark, your voice shrill with unease. “What a surprise!”
Ignoring your greeting, Caleb turns his attention to Simone. “Skyhaven isn’t very safe tonight,” he says coolly. “You’d better get home.”
The finality in his words makes it clear: you won’t be joining her. 
“Um, sure,” Simone trails off, wary eyes searching yours. “Will you be alright?”
“...Yes, it’s okay.”
Though your words don’t seem to convince her, Caleb’s penetrating glare does. She quickly walks to the driver’s side and effortlessly pops the door open—surprise, surprise—before jumping in. Giving you one last look, your only chance at salvation drives into the night.
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The ride back to Caleb’s house is silent. You scoot as close as you can to the window beside you, paying no mind to the intensifying patter of rain against the glass. All that you notice is how he grips the steering wheel tight enough for his knuckles to turn white. 
When you pull into his driveway and exit the car, he walks closely behind you, preventing any more last-minute escape attempts. His imposing presence follows you inside and all the way to his bedroom. 
When you both cross the threshold, the air thickens with tension as you stand in silence, unmoving. 
“Well, goodnight!” you call when you can’t take it anymore. But before you can take one step, Caleb swings the door shut with his Evol. Huh, you think. Doors must be his speciality tonight.
“Where do you think you could possibly be going after the night you gave me?” he asks, steely voice cutting through your thoughts.
“Listen—” you start, but he cuts you off. 
“You ordered coffee three times. Burst out into laughter I could hear from outside six times. And yet, you somehow managed to check your phone zero times.”
“If you’d just given me more time, I was going to—”
“You were going to what? Because here’s what I think would have happened: If I hadn’t picked you up, you would’ve gone to your friend’s place, right? Then, you’d message me with an apology. Oh, throw in a cute emoji as the cherry on top,” he snorts. 
“With that done, you’d put your phone away and curl up into a ball to sleep. You wouldn’t even dare to check my response. You’d wait it out and believe I wouldn’t be upset. And once I’m away on a mission or somethin’...you would sneak back into the house and pretend nothing happened. Tell me,” he challenges you. “Am I wrong?”
He wasn’t wrong. He was never wrong—not about your habits, at least. 
“Okay, okay, I get it,” you snap. “I thought you said you were ‘done playing games’? You don't have to act so big brother-y all the time.”
Clearly, that was the wrong thing to say. Caleb’s head rears back, his eyes going wide in incredulity before he scoffs. 
Alright, you sigh, time to turn on the waterworks. 
Taking a deep breath, you force tears into your eyes. “Caleb,” you begin, “I really didn’t mean to ignore you. I was just having so much fun. S-someone brought their puppy to the café and I got distracted.” The café hadn’t allowed pets, but you needed all the sympathy you could get. You’d have to thank Simone for telling you about that new bar later. “I won’t do it again. I won’t even go out at night anymore—promise.”
As he takes in your pitiful expression, you see Caleb’s resolve start to crack, the twitch in his right eye giving away how much he wants to console you. Maintaining your pout, you internally grin like a Cheshire cat. He could never say no to you. He could never le—
Your phone rings.
You thought you’d turned it off in the car, but your fucking phone rings. Right when you have him where you want him. 
The shrill tone sucks the air out of the room, and with it, any hope for your escape.
“Answer it. Speaker.” His voice leaves no room for argument.
Visibly shaken, you fish your phone out of your bag and accept the call. “H-hello?”
“Hey Y/N, it’s Simone. I’m calling to check on you—that guy who took you home was kinda scary. I just wanted to make sure he didn’t do anything. Are you okay?”
At the insinuation that he’d ever harm you, Caleb’s face turns thunderous, his jaw clenching so hard you’re afraid it’ll snap. 
“No, no, I’m fine,” you reassure her. “Thanks for worrying though, that’s really sweet,” you add, your eyes darting up and immediately back down after meeting Caleb’s glower. 
“That’s great, I really was worried,” she says, relief evident in her voice. “Well, before you hang up, are we still on for same time next week at the bar I mentio—”
You hang up as soon as she reveals your plans, throwing your phone so abruptly it bounces off the chair where your purse sits and onto the carpet. But it was too late. There was no sweet-talking the irate scowl off of Caleb’s face. You’d lied. 
Like a deer in headlights, you stand frozen and helpless as Caleb stalks toward you. 
“You almost had me,” he chuckles darkly, squishing your cheeks between one hand. “And I bet you knew it, too. Remind me to thank Simone for being such a good friend later.”
His grip tightens when you try to respond, and he pulls your face closer to his instead. “I think I’ve had enough of you talking for now. No point in hearing it if you’re just gonna lie to me again.”
With uncanny speed, he lifts you by your legs and tosses you onto the mattress. When you attempt to sit up, hoping to crawl away, he captures both of your wrists in his hand and claims your lips in a bruising kiss. 
“Don’t talk.” A kiss. “Don’t move.” Another. “Don’t do anything I don’t tell you to do, and I might not chain you to this bed.” You’re so distracted by his final kiss—the exclamation point—that you barely register when he yanks your loose pants down, baring your cotton panties to him. 
When he spots the wet patch spreading through the middle, he moans, shifting to push his nose into your center. The deep inhales he takes seem to calm him down, and his voice loses some of its earlier edge when he murmurs, “Can’t believe you were keepin’ her from me tonight. Look at how much she missed me.”
He demonstrates by pressing an open-mouthed kiss to your panties, tasting you as you leak harder under his tongue. The whimper you let out falls on deaf ears as you remember his command: Don’t talk. 
Licking a stripe up your clothed folds, Caleb sighs into you in contentment. “Gonna see her in a second,” he breathes. “Just can’t give her too much at once, or she’ll get greedy.” 
He’s too far gone, you think, closing your eyes in preparation of what’s to come. But nothing prepares you for the way the seemingly sedated Caleb rips your panties open at the seam, exposing your hot skin to the cool air. 
With no hesitation, he plants a long kiss onto your core, his lips smacking against the fat of your outer folds. Covering your skin with a flurry of pecks, he moans into you, his intermittent licks becoming sloppy, appreciative kisses. 
Caleb was making out with your cunt like your brain wasn't in the room, kissing it like he hadn’t seen it in years. The sensations and lewd squelches make your arousal unbearable, but when you try to grind into his mouth—to get him to do something more—he pushes your hips into the mattress. 
“Don’t interrupt us,” he mumbles, lips still latched onto your unspread cunt. Heat rushing to your cheeks, you flop your head back down, defeated as the man ignores you to have his heartfelt reunion with your core. 
An agonizing few minutes later, you feel him press a last hard kiss against your skin before finally spreading your soaked folds. “Can’t believe you ever thought you could hide from me,” he growls, eyes sparkling. “I’ll show you you can’t. Make you never want to again.”
Slowly, he licks up and down your wetness, teasing his tongue around your entrance. You try to relax during his ministrations, knowing he won’t give you what you want this early, but he catches you off guard when he buries his tongue into your weeping, sputtering hole. 
A strangled moan escapes you as he fucks you with his tongue, twisting, turning, and circling himself inside you. 
One pulse has your walls flexing with desperation, and Caleb pulls back slightly when he feels you tighten around him. “Look at that, I think she’s kissin’ me back,” he coos, a string of his saliva refusing to part from your quivering cunt. 
Spurred on by the whine you give him, he flashes you a wicked grin before diving back in, plunging his tongue in and out at a punishing pace. 
All the while, he studiously avoids where you need him most, licking and kissing everywhere but your twitching clit—neglecting it like you did him earlier in the night.
Suddenly, he lifts his head up, flashing you a quick smirk. “You know,” he starts, licking his glistening lips. “When you were givin’ me all those crocodile tears and cryin’ about puppies earlier, you never did say sorry for trying to run. How about now, hmm?” he asks, pressing a wet kiss to your center. “You sorry?”
You pant out an incoherent moan, and he nips at your clit—the first time he’s touched it all night. Ignoring your squeal, he gives you another kiss. “I don’t know what that means. Try again.” 
You go to speak again, but Caleb suddenly rubs his nose against your clit, your resulting gasp sending your back shooting off the bed. He swiftly slams you back down with his Evol, giving you another nip. “Just two words, baby. You can do that for me, yeah? Two words, loud and clear. Want to know you mean it.”
You don’t know what it is—the last strands of your pride clinging on for dear life, your stupor after being toyed with for almost an hour, or pure stubbornness—but you can’t bring yourself to say it. With a whimper, you clamp your mouth shut, staring at the ceiling in rebellion. 
“Hmmm,” he hums, looking up at you briefly. Before you can even process it, Caleb covers your clit with his mouth and sucks, simultaneously groaning into you. The combined sensations set your nerves on fire, and you come in his mouth with a prolonged cry. 
“I’m sorry!” you wail, the tears in your eyes genuine this time. As Caleb laps up your release, chants of “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m—oh—I’m sorry,” fall through your lips, your earlier defiance reduced to blubbering submission. “Should’ve checked my phone and called you back, I’m so sorry.” 
You’ve apologized ten times over, it feels, but he won’t let up. He suckles you until it aches, and there’s nothing you can do but lie there and sob as his Evol keeps you pinned down. When he’s finally had his fill, he presses a reverent thank-you kiss to your cunt before crawling up your body, nestling in between your thighs. 
“Aw, none of that, now,” he coos, wiping under your eyes. “I forgive you, alright? I forgive you for getting distracted, baby.” Still crying, you nod frantically, leaning into his gentle touch. “But if you ever run from me again, whoever you’re with won’t like what happens when I catch you,” he promises, pressing a kiss to your lips and then your forehead before plunging into you. 
Though his pace is relentless, your walls draw him in, his earlier date with your cunt letting you take his thick length with ease. 
When the pressure builds and you shy away from his brutal thrusts, he turns your chin toward him, pressing an ironically chaste kiss to your mouth. “No running, remember?” 
As you hurtle toward your release, he leans close, kissing you briefly before speaking into your lips. “The next time you wanna ignore me—next time you wanna hide from me and lie to me sayin’ you’ll be good from now on—I want you to think of this, to think of me right here,” he murmurs, palming his cock through your belly. You squeal at the foreign feeling, but he only adds more force, and you think you’re about to pass out.   
“My baby,” he chides. “Loves to act out but she can’t handle the consequences.” While he speaks, he folds your left leg up, pushing it to your chest so he can penetrate you deeper.
“Please, Caleb!” you beg, the new angle making stars float across your vision. As your body rocks with the force of his strokes, you cry, “I said I was sorry!” 
“Mm, you did,” he nods, absorbing a tear on your cheek with a kiss. “But I don’t think you really are. Not yet.”
Without warning, he pulls out of you and flips you onto your stomach before sliding back in. Resuming his thrusts, he uses his Evol to pick your forgotten phone up off the floor. “Call her back. Speaker,” he orders. 
At first, you're flustered into hesitation, but as he holds the phone ahead of you and taps through your history to do it himself, you pull yourself together. “Wait,” you wail. “Wait. I’ll do it.”
You do it.
When Simone picks up, Caleb shows you mercy by decreasing his pace so the sound of slick skin colliding doesn’t travel through the phone. 
“Hey Y/N, what’s up? Is it about earlier? …Did something happen?” she asks in concern.
Frantically, you twist your head to look up at Caleb, not knowing what to say. 
Leisurely, he folds forward over you, his chest flush with your spine so he can whisper in your ear. Throughout his dramatics, your time to respond without raising suspicion wanes, and you grow more desperate by the second.
“Hi Simone,” Caleb finally whispers, pressing kisses to your ear in time with his languid strokes.
“H-hi Simone,” you repeat louder, a slight tremble in your voice.
“I just wanted to say thanks again for checking in. That guy, the one from earlier—he can be so mean sometimes,” Caleb murmurs, pouting his lips in ridicule. 
“I just wanted…wanted to say thanks again for checking in. The guy from earlier—hah—can be so mean sometimes,” you echo, breathless from the impact of Caleb’s hips rocking into yours.
“Can we reschedule our plans for next week? My big brother’s,” he emphasizes, mocking your earlier jab with two deep thrusts, “coming home, and he really misses me.” As he feeds you lines, the taunts in his words break through the softness of his whispers. 
As softly as you dare to, you whimper for him, hoping it’s enough for him to end his torture.
But as the phone screen goes black from inactivity, you see his smirking reflection looming over your humiliated one. The only way out is by appeasing him. 
“C-can we reschedule our plans for next week? My…my friend—” 
As soon as the word leaves your mouth, Caleb lifts off of you slightly, landing a harsh smack on your ass.
“Y/N? What was that noise? Are you alright?”
“Yes,” you all but moan as he bites your neck, reprimanding you further for breaking his script. 
“My friend is visiting next week, and he really misses me,” you finish, waiting with bated breath for her—and Caleb’s—reactions. 
“Oh…sure, Y/N. That’s fine with me. That’s a lot better than I was expecting, you sounded like you were in trouble for a second.” Caleb smirks against your ear. “Just let me know when you want to reschedule.”
“Sounds good,” you breathe as Caleb’s thrusts return to a faster pace. “I-I gotta go, I’ll see you later!” you rush, almost squealing as you end the call. 
For the nth time that night, you want to burst into tears. “I can’t believe you just did that,” you whine, your voice mixing with the renewed slaps of skin on skin. 
Chuckling, Caleb lifts off of you, his sudden absence from your cunt making you shudder. In an instant, he flips you over so you’re face-to-face before entering you again. 
“Technically, you just did that,” he smirks, his thrusts now lazy and sporadic. “I don’t remember pressing ‘call.’” His matter-of-fact tone is teasing, but you knew that if you hadn’t canceled on Simone, he’d have made good on his earlier threat. He always does. 
As you open your mouth to retort, Caleb’s face grows serious, and all your neurons responsible for making witty comebacks seem to atrophy at once. 
Caleb leans down, light bites on your throat punctuating his confession. “I can’t stop at wanting you not to run from me anymore. I want you to stay with me. To choose to, for as long as we live, for the next hundred years.” 
“But what if…” you trail off, but he understands what you’d been implying. 
At that, his eyes darken. Rutting into you with renewed fervor, he grasps your chin tightly, holding you captive in his gaze. “You’ll be around for however many years I’m alive and kicking,” he growls. And you believe him. 
Nerves alight, mind numb, and core throbbing from your impending climax, you nod as much as his iron grip allows you to. “I’ll stay,” you whisper, kissing his thumb near your lip. “Wanna stay—with you.” 
Letting out a strangled huff, Caleb surges forward, his lips meeting yours in a searing kiss. He bites your bottom lip as he presses down on your stomach once again, and you careen over the edge, feeling the hot spurts of his release intensify the flood inside your cunt. 
With a shuttering groan, Caleb collapses to your left, immediately closing the space between you with a hug. You stay like that for a while, your sore body curled into his arms as you face each other on the bed. 
“You okay?” he asks quietly, rubbing circles into your hip. “I know it was a bit much.”
“Forgive you,” you mumble into his chest. “Felt good.”
He chuckles, tapping your nose twice. “You shouldn’t forgive me so easily. Or else I’ll want to keep testing your limits.” 
When you fall asleep in his warm embrace, Caleb looks down at you intently, trying to brand the visual into any part of his commandeered mind that’d take it. Daring to disrupt the image, he gently untangles your bodies, lifting you before laying you back down on top of him. 
At peace for the first time that night, Caleb looks out the window, smiling to himself. The rain has stopped.
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sunni-stuff · 9 months ago
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You who's studying abroad in the UK where you have a one night stand with Ghost at a bar; it's a special night for the soldiers and he gets lucky after making you laugh by telling a shitty joke thanks to the liquid confidence in you. You ask his name, and he tells you there's no need — that you'd forget by the end of the night.
Taking you back home, there was no time wasted. The man practically has you seeing stars. He pumps you full of cum, whispers absolute filth in your ears and leaves bruises on your thighs by the time it's all over. He at least cleans you up, gives you proper aftercare before disappearing while your still fucked out of your mind.
Anyways, a great night. perfect 10/10, you have a story to tell your girls. So, your life continues on track as normal, right?
Wrong!
You dream of him. You have countless dreams of him. They were graphic reenactments of that night. His stubble rubbing against your cheek, his lust-filled eyes burning into yours even in the darkness. And oh, his voice - deep and confident - the very reason why you were drawn to him in the first place.
He creeps into your dreams every single night without fail, so much so that it frustrates you. surely not because you were soaking wet afterwards, no, no, it was only because he was so annoying! Surely it wasn't because you’d end up pumping your fingers in and out your soaked cunt for hours in hopes of recreating that mindblowing orgasm he'd given you only to fail each time.
After your 10th failed attempt to cum, you crack asking the friend who took you out to the bar in the first place if she knew who the soldier was and she claims her boyfriend does. You've met Kyle before, he's a handsome man with dreamy eyes and a gentleman's demeanor.
Kyle tells you he'd pass the word back to his lieutenant, but he's a busy man who doesn't stay in one place. There's no guarantee he'd even respond.
Lucky you, screwing a lieutenant who probably doesn't remember who you are or won't have the time to find out.
The waiting game painfully starts all while the dreams continue. Each torturous night leaves you more and more agitated than before. By the 4th night, you already embraced the restlessness sure to come when the vibration of your phone changes everything.
Directly on the home screen was a text from an unknown number. There was no name, but you had a feeling who it was based on the message.
“Keep the front door unlocked for me.”
A/N I wrote this during hurricane francine when my power went out, I think she gave me superpowers. Idk I'll start flying tmr!!
P2 here
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taylorswiftdebut · 11 months ago
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‘i forgot that you existed’ song of all time i’m sorry everyone is always so mean to you 🫶
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fruit-teeth · 1 year ago
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I think I may have just been scammed by an EBay seller 🫠
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